#i have been buried in work and each time I think there is a relief a surprise new project

[emerald-skies-art]

I will not be able to participate in reguri wk and it is devistating to me I’ve been so sad

Pls everyone enjoy it so much for me, we chose many beautiful themes for this season, I hope u all can enjoy creating for them! 😞🩷

[thedensworld]

The Moves | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: Suggestive, humour

Summary: Here's the plan, get you on the bed.

Title number 50!

Mingyu had been restless these past few days. He missed you, and all he could do was stare at his phone, waiting for any sign of life from you. Mingyu had never been the type to get desperate. In fact, he's always been a man full of ego and pride. But ever since you came into his life, all of that had been tossed in the bin. Now, you were the priority.

Sure, Mingyu could have just bought a ticket, hopped on the next flight, and come straight to you. But he knows you too well—he knows you’d hate that, and that’s exactly why he’s been so restless ever since you left for that business trip.

He grabbed his phone from the coffee table, his thumb idly scrolling through articles to distract himself. One caught his eye: "5 Moves That Will Have Women on Their Knees." He snorted, amused. Mingyu did love seeing you on your knees, but honestly, he'd probably be the one on his knees for you. Either way, it worked out.

As he kept reading, ideas started forming in his mind. Maybe he could surprise you when you got back, do these five things and drive you wild:

1. A strong-Proximity stare after a hug or kiss

2. Gentle touch at the right moment

3. Whisper sweet, sultry compliments—mostly about how irresistible you look, of course.

4. Pin your hands above your head and take his time with you during make out.

5. Lock eyes during… well, you know.

He chuckled to himself. Okay, maybe this was making him sound like a total perv, or a man with a serious sensual streak, but he couldn't help it. It’s been a week since he last touched you, and all the conversations between you had been through texts, calls, or video chats—if you weren’t swamped with work. And he'd be lying if he said he didn’t miss you in bed.

With a heavy sigh, Mingyu leaned back on the couch. He had to admit it—he was a desperate man now. Desperate for you.

A notification from his phone caught Mingyu’s attention immediately. He glanced down and saw it was your message, letting him know you had arrived safely in South Korea and were on your way home with your manager. A wave of relief washed over him, and without thinking, he kicked the air in excitement before quickly typing back, "See you soon, my love."

He didn’t waste another second—he headed straight to the shower, the anticipation of seeing you building with each passing minute.

An hour later, Mingyu stood by the curb, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, trying his hardest to resist the overwhelming urge to pull you into his arms. Your manager was still there, after all. But the second you stepped out of the car, his heart leaped. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like forever, and everything in him screamed to close the distance between you.

He busied himself with your luggage, exchanging polite goodbyes with your manager, before finally following you into the house. Once the door clicked shut behind him, he set your luggage down near the entryway.

"Hi. How are you?" You asked softly, turning to him as you peeled off your jacket and tossed it onto the nearby chair. Your eyes, though tired, softened as you opened your arms.

Mingyu didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and embraced you tightly, as if afraid to let go. God, he missed this. He missed your warmth, your familiar scent, the way you fit perfectly in his arms. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the faint scent of your shampoo, and felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. Your hugs weren’t just comforting; they were his sanctuary, a place where all his worries seemed to melt away.

"I missed you so much," you whispered against his chest, voice laced with exhaustion. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring back, "I missed you like crazy. I wanted to hop on a flight to LA so badly."

You let out a small chuckle, though he could feel the weight of your weariness. "How was the shooting?" he asked gently, his arms still wrapped around you, unwilling to let go just yet.

You shook your head slowly, the frustration clear without needing words. Mingyu's heart clenched at the sight of your exhaustion. He tightened his hold, his other hand coming up to rub soothing circles on your back. "It's okay, love," he said softly. "You can tell me all about it when you're ready."

You pulled him even closer, as though you wanted to meld your bodies together, to make up for every second of distance between you over the past days. Mingyu could feel how much you needed this closeness, the way you trembled slightly against him, and it only made him want to shield you from everything.

"Later," you whispered, your voice small and tired. He kissed your forehead, a silent promise of understanding. "Take your time," he said gently.

Mingyu held you a little longer, savoring the moment, thankful that you were finally home. Nothing else mattered as long as you were there, in his arms, where you belonged.

*

Mingyu sat at the dining table, a soft smile tugging at his lips as his eyes followed your every movement in the kitchen. It had been a while since he’d seen you in your element, confidently moving around and preparing a meal. Watching you cook brought back memories of all the times he’d admired your skill, but more than that, it reminded him how much he loved savoring the food you made with such care. There was something so intimate, so comforting, in the simple act of seeing you master the kitchen.

You came over with two plates in hand, setting one in front of him with a quick peck on his cheek—the sweetest finishing touch. Mingyu grinned, feeling warmth spread through him. Tonight’s dinner was pasta, and he was more than ready to devour it.

"Thanks for the food," he said, his eyes sparkling as he dug in.

After dinner, you settled on the couch, your eyes fixed on the TV as a Western drama played on the screen. Mingyu, however, couldn’t bring himself to focus on the show. Instead, his gaze lingered on you, admiring the way the soft light from the screen illuminated your face. He had missed this—missed you. It wasn’t just your presence he craved, but the small, quiet moments like this when the world slowed down and it was just the two of you.

You turned your head, feeling his gaze, and gave him a curious look. "Why are you watching me?" you asked, a hint of worry in your voice. "Is something wrong?"

Mingyu sighed, feeling a flicker of guilt for making you worry. He shook his head, rubbing his face as he mumbled, "I just missed you."

"You missed me?" You raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your eyes at his sudden confession.

Mingyu leaned back against the couch, feeling a slight heat rise to his cheeks. "Yes," he admitted, more confidently this time, though the blush deepened.

You stood up from your spot beside him and without a word, moved to sit on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a warm embrace, your love and affection evident in every movement. Mingyu’s hands instinctively found their place around your waist, as if they had always belonged there. It was second nature now, this closeness, this comfort. Every time you were alone with him, it seemed like you always ended up in his arms, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He held you tight, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back, while you rested your head against his chest. For a moment, neither of you said anything, content to just exist in the peaceful silence, the unspoken love between you filling the room.

Is it time to make a move? Mingyu thought, his pulse quickening as he gazed at you.

You pulled back slightly, but Mingyu’s hands remained firmly on your waist, keeping you seated on his lap. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with adoration, but beneath that was a simmering desire.

Number one: a strong, lingering stare after a hug or kiss.

You smiled at him, your hands gently cupping his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. Mingyu leaned into your touch, savoring the warmth of your hands. His fingers began to explore the contours of your body, tracing familiar lines as he slowly leaned in for a kiss.

Number two: a gentle touch at the right moment.

His lips met yours, soft at first, but as the kiss deepened, his hands moved with more purpose. He pulled away from your mouth just long enough to pepper your neck and shoulders with soft kisses, each one sending shivers through you. His mouth hovered near your ear, nibbling lightly before he whispered in a low, breathy voice, "You look so beautiful… it’s almost painful."

His fingers deftly began to unbutton your pajama top as he murmured, "I just want to make you feel good," his voice raspy and filled with desire.

Number three: whisper sweet, sultry compliments.

The kiss grew more heated, more urgent, as Mingyu lowered you onto the couch, his body hovering over yours. Your hands found their way under his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his toned skin, igniting the passion between you. The tension was palpable, each kiss more intense than the last. Without warning, he gently took your hands from his body and pinned them above your head, holding you in place. He paused, breaking the kiss just long enough to gaze down at you. His breath caught as he admired how breathtaking you looked, flushed and beautiful beneath him.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice full of sincerity and longing, before claiming your lips again.

Number four: pin her hands above her head and take his time during the make-out.

Everything was building to this moment, but Mingyu was patient, savoring every touch, every kiss. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, and as he hovered above you, he realized he was falling deeper in love with by every second.

The final move? It was just about a matter of time.

Mingyu took his time with you, showering you with compliments about your body and the effect you had on him every time you were together. He sighed in pleasure when your hand found his, loving how you made him feel.

"Babe..." you mumbled, but Mingyu couldn’t care less. He was too busy exploring your mouth and savoring your softness.

Then you dropped a bombshell. "I'm on my period."

Mingyu froze, a stunned silence enveloping the room for what felt like an eternity. "Seriously?" he finally asked, disbelief etched on his face. You nodded, heat rushing to your cheeks from the embarrassment of your confession.

He buried his head in your shoulder, laughter bubbling up. What kind of comedy was this? He had been mentally counting the moves he’d read about in that article, "5 Moves to Make Women on Their Knees." But how could he attempt the fifth one when you two had agreed never to go there while you were on your period?

With a heavy sigh, Mingyu shifted away from you, sitting up and leaving you still lying on the couch. "I’m sorry... I just couldn't control it. I really miss you," he said, frustration creasing his brow as he rubbed his face.

"No, don’t be sorry. I should be the one apologizing. I should have told you sooner," you replied, squatting in front of him and gently pulling his hands away from his beautiful face.

He sighed again, but you could still see a hint of a smile playing on his lips, as if he found the situation amusing. "Why are you smiling?" you asked, genuinely puzzled.

Mingyu shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "I’m still hard," he whispered, resting his head back on your shoulder.

What you said next took him by surprise. "Want me to take care of it?"

He couldn’t believe his ears. He didn’t need to deploy any of the five moves to get you on your knees. All the embarrassment and longing suddenly felt worth it. Mingyu's heart raced at the thought, and he couldn't help but grin. This was turning into an unexpected night, and he was all in.

He's glas he's married to you.

[butchcarmy]

let me love on you

Rating: Explicit (5.4k)

Summary: carmy makes you come once with each: his fingers, his mouth, and then his cock. That's it. That's the summary

Tags: smut, porn with NO PLOT, established relationship, fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, soft dom carmy, multiple orgasms, slow sex, sprinkling of praise kink, general sappiness

a/n: HIII this is just filth… first time smut posting yay!!! Also fun fact this doc is called “PUSSY EATING CHAMPION!!!!!” hope you enjoy this indulgence!!

You swear to him that you’ve nothing but innocent thoughts when he pulls you into his side. He’s just so warm, heat thrumming under his skin. It would’ve been impossible not to melt into him. Resisting is a futile effort. Besides, it’s not your fault that he has these gentle, long-lashed eyes, and when you stare at them, you have to kiss him. There’s little choice in the matter.

But maybe—just maybe—you’re the one that snakes your hands into his hair. Maybe you’re the one that curls your fingers and tugs, not too gentle, not too rough—just right. 

“Missed you today,” he whispers against your lips. He’s starting to press you against the cushions, but you don’t care. You like it when he’s on top of you. 

“Saw you this morning,” you tease, but with the way his callused hands are up your shirt, it comes out breathless. 

“Yeah,” Carmy acknowledges, “I know. Still.”

“Mm.” You can’t help the smile on your face. “Missed you too,” you admit, and you feel him smile back against your lips. 

“Stop smiling so much, I can’t kiss you,” he says through a laugh. He’s pulled back, so you can see the grin still overtaking his face. 

“You first,” you challenge, and he shakes his head with another short chuckle, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You laugh, too—you can’t help it, not after hearing his wonderful little laugh. You lean your head against his hair, freshly washed and soft. It smells like his shitty old spice shampoo you’ve been begging for him to replace, but you don’t mind the smell so much. Although today, it smells a little bit like a new conditioner of sorts. 

You’re about to ask him if he’s starting using a different conditioner, but then he’s pressing kisses to the side of your neck.  

“Wanted you so bad at work today,” he murmurs against your skin. His hands are roaming down now, playing with the edge of your waistband. “Kept thinking about you like this.”

“Like what?” You breathe out. It’s hard to think when he’s sucking hickeys into the tender skin of your throat. 

“Like this,” he says again, and his left hand snakes down the front of your pants. You bite your bottom lip as you feel his fingertips grazing over your clothed pussy. “Under me, letting me touch you…”

“Must’ve been distracting,” you say, trying to tease, but it comes out far too breathless to hold any weight. 

“So distracting,” he agrees. “Thought about you so much I had to take care of it.”

“You—” You imagine Carmy, locked in the bathroom fisting his cock, and arousal throbs in your gut. “Fuck, really?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. His cheeks are red, and heat flares through you. 

“Touch me,” you plead, suddenly filled with an urgent impatience.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers, dutiful and giving, and his fingers tug your underwear to the side. You let out what feels like a sigh of relief when you feel his fingers pressed against your folds. 

He doesn’t waste any time in rubbing your clit in the way he knows you like, a mix of slow circles and side to side. As he is with all things he cares about, he is efficient, excellent, and this is no exception. Your clit quickly hardens under his persistent touch. With each movement of his fingers, he drags little breaths out of you. 

“Good girl, getting wet for me,” Carmy murmurs against the tender skin of your neck. Two fingers press against your entrance, dipping into the leaking wetness. He rubs the pads of his fingers there to coax you further open, to get you wetter. 

You tuck your face into his neck and wrap your arms over his shoulders. You whimper at the sweet pleasure of his newly slicked fingers drag up your clit. Wetness quickly covers your clit, and it slides easily under his touch, making you shiver.

“Carmy,” you breathe. You’re unraveling, and the both of you know it. His fingers are insistent, taking what it wants from you. God, how you’ve thought about him like this—his broad, tattooed hands shoved down the front of your pants to tease your clit. 

“You like this?” He asks, a bit breathless. His breath is warm on your skin. “You like me?”

“Like you so much,” you get out between moans, and between the noise he makes at that and the growing bulge you’re seated on, you suspect that he likes you, too. 

“You want my fingers?” His voice is low, close in your ear. His lips move from your neck to the side of your head, pressing little kisses there. Each kiss makes you shiver. 

“I do, I want it,” you murmur, hips bucking when his fingers touch your clit in that way he knows makes you react. 

“Then look at me,” he says, and it’s a command.

Reluctantly, you untuck your warm face from his neck. His blue are dark, his pupils blown with arousal, looking at you with a deep hunger. His gaze is strong, unwavering in the way it grabs you. He has always been rather beautiful, you think, but he especially is now with his curly hair falling into his face, expression hungry.

You feel his roaming fingers sliding between your folds before nudging at your entrance. Your entrance pulses once, needy, and he makes a low, pleased noise.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he says quietly, drinking in your expression, and he pushes his two fingers into you.

“A-Ah—“ You bite back a moan, digging your teeth into your lower lip. Your eyes flicker away nervously, but return with Carmy’s soft words.

“Eyes on me,” he commands, gentle yet insistent. You struggle to with the way his two wide fingers gradually stretch you, and with how they just keep going. You guess they’re longer than yours.

“C-Carm,” you whimper, looking at his shakily through wet eyelashes. “Please.”

He smiles at you then, a warm and tender thing. It’s so full of affection it almost makes you want to look away, but you don’t, basking in it.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, and he presses his lips against yours. 

His mouth is urgent, almost as if he’s trying to map the feeling of your mouth with his. You reciprocate, rolling your tongue against his, and that’s when you feel him go down to the last knuckle. His fingers are nestled into you now, and your hole sucks at him once, twice.

You moan quietly against his lips, your hole suckling at his fingers nestled deep inside you. He makes a delighted noise of pleasure back, curling his fingers in you and gently stroking your walls. The pads of his fingers drag slowly across your squishy, wet walls, feeling slowly.

But then his thumb is at your clit, rubbing it from side to side, and you feel as if you’re finally unraveling.

“God, fuck,” you gasp against his lips, desperate for a chance to catch your breath, but you can’t. Not with the way he’s thumbing at your clit and rutting his deep fingers in you.

“Good girl, taking me so well,” he pants against your lips. “You’re so hot inside.” You let out a quiet, needy whine at his words, unable to say anything with the feeling of his fingers deep inside you.

Carmy keeps you here for a while, just fingering you and thumbing at your clit. Your composure is deteriorating quickly, unable to do anything but pant into his mouth. His fingers are so curious, so dutiful in the way he rubs you everywhere. You’re oozing onto his fingers, dripping down them and smearing onto his palm. 

“I wann’ come, Carm, please,” you beg, pulling back from his hungry kisses to hide your face again in his neck. “Feels good, s-so close.” 

“I’ve got you, baby, I got you,” he whispers. “But I wanna see your face when you cum.”

You clench around his fingers. Hard.

“O-Okay,” you stammer, reluctantly leaning back. His half-lidded eyes are taking you in, so hungry it’s making you want to look away, but another part of you drinks his expression in with delight.

“You like the sound of that?” His fingers are moving again, and this time, they’re quick, brutal. In and out, in and out, they thrust, and the way his fingers slide against your walls is making you tremble.

“Yeah,” you moan, because that’s all you can manage to get out.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Carmy says softly, like it’s a travesty, like it’s a gift from above. His other hand cradles your face, thumb stroking your cheek. It’s an unbearably soft gesture, especially compared to the other one pounding your pussy. The repetitive sound of his insistent fingers is wet and slick. The volume of it would typically embarrass you, but so you’re close you don’t even care.

“Oh god, I’m, I’m gonn’ come,” you gasp, legs beginning to tremble. The pressure, the tension coiling in your stomach is so tight it’s almost scary. Your legs tremble around him.

“I’ve got you,” he says again, as if sending your twinge of nerves. “I’m right here, so come on my fingers for me, okay?”

“Fuck me, Carmy, I—I—“ you moan, eyes momentarily squeezing shut as the heat crescendos, rising and rising and his fingers thrusting and rubbing and thrusting until—

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, and you’re gushing all over his fingers. 

You shakily keep your blurry vision on him, tears beading in the corner of your eyes as you come. Your whole body seizes with the effort, your hole sucking tight at his fingers which stroke you through your clenching orgasm. He leaves no part of you untouched, clit throbbing under his circling thumb. Carmy is nothing but dedicated and thorough.

Through the midst of your peaking orgasm, a sudden surge of wetness gushes out of you.

“Shit,” you gasp, a mixture of panic and arousal. You want to say something apologetic with the way you’re drenching his hand, but the pleasure is so immense you can’t form the words. 

Surprise flashes across his face, and his hand in your pants pauses. But the pause is brief, and then he keeps going, going, going. 

“Fuck, does it feel that good, beautiful?” Carmy murmurs. He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you, and maybe he does. You wouldn’t mind. 

“Mhm,” you affirm distantly, gradually riding the slowing waves of your pleasure. You’re shameless rutting into his hand, rubbing your pussy raw against his skin. The squirting was intense but brief, now tapering off into little spurts in his palm. 

He holds you there for a little while longer, stretching out your orgasm like a melty string of caramel. You’re panting, eyes fluttered shut as you catch your breath. He keeps his two fingers inside you until you stop squeezing around him. 

“Sorry for the mess,” you mumble, exhausted from how hard you came. You’re coming back to reality now, and you’re registering how wet the front of your jeans feel. “Did I get anything on the couch?”

“Don’t apologize. It was hot,” Carmy replies, and his honesty makes your chest feel warm. He looks down, checking the couch cushions before continuing. “I don’t see anything. I think your jeans got the worst of it.”

“No, I think that would go to your hand,” you laugh, a bit strangled with embarrassment. He just grins, unabashed in his pleased, almost smug expression. 

“Guess we’ll see.” That’s when you feel him removing his fingers, sliding out of you and your pants. He wasn’t wrong—you definitely do see it.

You’ve spent more time than you’d like to admit staring at his hands. His handsome hands, littered with faint burns and scars from over the years. One of your favorite things about his hands, though, is his tattoos.

A tattoo of a knife stabbing a hand sits on the back of his right hand, and SOU is written on his first three fingers on his left hand. Those are the letters you see staring back at you, glistening under your fluids that coat his fingers. 

“Um,” you start, but you don’t say anything else. Your ears feel hot. Your throat feels dry. Carmy’s staring at his fingers, and they’re shiny under the light. Very shiny. You can see thin rivulets trailing down his forearm, too. Fuck.

Without saying anything, his tongue drags up the fluid dripping down his arm. 

He does this once, twice before licking up his palm. His tongue travels up his fingers before sucking them into his mouth, eyes fluttered shut like it’s honey. You can’t look away, not even when he opens his eyes again, staring right back as you as he sucks your come off his fingers. 

When he drags his fingers out with a quiet pop, they’re completely clean.

“Can I take your pants off?” Carmy asks first before you can say anything. His voice is a little hoarse. 

“Please,” you whisper. You can feel yourself getting hot again. 

You both struggle with your wet jeans, the fabric uncooperative, but he manages to get it off of you. Your underwear is completely soaked, and it’s almost laughable how easily he yanks it off. He throws it somewhere to be found later.

“Mm, you look so fucking good,” Carmy mumbles, eyes glued to your pussy, and you swear you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. His praise sends heat up your chest and across your face, ending at the tips of your ears. 

“You gonn’ fuck me?” You ask, spreading your legs wide for him. He makes a noise of approval. 

“Yeah,” he says, “but not yet.”

You’re confused, but only for a moment. It clicks together when he gets off the couch and moves to the floor to sit. Then, he hooks his arms under your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. With your thighs bracketing his head, his hands grip them to spread them again.

“Oh,” you whisper, realizing. 

“After you come again on my mouth, I’ll fuck you,” Carmy promises. Seeing him between your legs like this is already reigniting your arousal. His curls are soft against your skin, a little ticklish even. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh. 

“But what about you?” You ask. You bring your hand to his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. “I wanna make you feel good too…”

“It makes me feel good to make you feel good, baby,” Carmy murmurs against your palm. “Don’t worry about me. I can’t wait to be inside you, but I need to taste your pussy first. Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” you repeat quickly. The heat in your stomach is growing, squirming as his eyes stare at you. 

“Good girl,” he praises lowly, licking his lips, and you have to hold back a groan. The things this man does to you.

“You really made a mess of yourself, y’know.” He drags his tongue up your inner thigh, licking up the slick that dripped down from earlier. “Drenched my fuckin’ hand.”

“I, I don’t remember the last time I’ve, uh, squirted like that,” you mumble back, because you don’t know what else to say. His tongue rolls over the junction where your inner thigh meets your crotch, and you can’t think. 

“Wanna make you do it again,” he confesses like a dark secret. Sucks a mark on the soft inside of your thigh. “Think you could squirt on my cock?”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” you groan, flustered by his words. He won’t stop kissing you down there. “M-Maybe?”

“I wanna see it, not just feel it.” You feel his hot breath ghost over your pussy, and you look down at him to see his eyes glued to it. “Need to see your pussy come next time, see how wet it can get.”

“Carmy, oh my god,” you groan, embarrassment white hot on your cheeks. “Sh, shut up…”

“I can do that,” he murmurs, devilish, and he sucks your cunt into his mouth.

“Ah,” you gasp, sounding like the air got punched out of you. The sight of his lips molded to the curve of your pussy is way too much, so much that you have to look away. It’s enough to feel the wet heat of his mouth enveloping you. 

He sucks, and then licks you as he keeps you in his mouth. You throw your head back, panting as his tongue weaves between your folds, pulling the remnants of your previous orgasm into his mouth. He’s also making these little pleased noises, like he’s delighted with the way you taste. 

He pulls back, mouth separating from your cunt with a wet noise. Pants over your pussy as you feel his fingers part your folds. Goes back in, nose buried in your pussy as his tongue buries itself in your hole. 

“Came so much for me,” he pants, retreating for just a second before going back in. His tongue is shameless, stubborn in the way it pushes into your hole. It’s times like this you remember how strangely long his tongue is. It swirls at your rim, pulling in and out to drag your slick out of you. 

“You’re gonn’ kill me, Carm,” you whine, a little delirious with how his tongue feels inside of you. He doesn’t quite respond, just making a low noise of approval you can feel against your pussy. 

One way to get him to shut up is to get him between your legs. He acts starved when he gets like this, focused on nothing else except your pussy like a goddamn animal. You’ve never had anyone go down on you like he does. He takes and takes and takes, licking endlessly into you. 

There’s a part of you that notes the feeling of wetness dripping out of you, but you’re not sure if it’s come or spit. Probably both, but you quickly forget about it. Carmy sucks once on your hole, an incredibly loud and messy noise, and does it again when he hears you whine.

“You taste so fucking good baby, you got no idea,” Carmy moans, sounding almost dizzy. He’s come up for air, hot breath ghosting over the skin of your thighs. You feel a little dizzy too, but in a different way. “You should see yourself. God.” He drags a finger through your thick wetness. 

“I should be the one saying that,” you argue breathily, an incredibly strangled sound. His pretty pink lips are glossed heavily with slick. It doesn’t just coat his mouth, instead also smeared on nearly the entire lower half of his face. Messy eater, you think hazily to yourself, the thought so potent you feel yourself throb. 

Carmy doesn’t respond, just smiles knowingly and gets back to work. 

He keeps you on the edge for a while, purposefully avoiding your clit to lap at you, slurp at your entrance. He goes from sealing his mouth where you’re leaking to languidly rolling his tongue against your pussy, squishing your folds under it. You’re really, really not sure how much more you can take of this. You swear you’re about to explode, between the wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy or his little, pleased moans. He can’t keep doing this, keeping you right at the edge like this—

Suddenly, his lips wrap gently around your swollen clit, and then, he sucks.

You can’t really register the noise that rips itself from your throat, but you do grip his hair with a desperate urgency, all in a plea to keep him there. He lets out a sharp moan when your fingers curl into his hair, and it vibrates deliciously around your clit. 

“Please, please,” you beg, even though his mouth remains at your clit, sucking dutifully. You’re not sure what you’re exactly asking for, but you know you need him. 

Carmy’s face is pressed deep into your pussy. With his lips sucking at the base of your clit, your folds bracket his chin. You’re throbbing, and you wonder if he can feel it. You’re close, very close. 

He definitely knows this, because he sucks your clit in a brutal, quick rhythm, and you’re done for.

There’s the sound of someone crying, and it takes a second too long for you to realize that that’s coming out of your mouth. Tears bead at the corner of your eyes, squeezed shut at the force of your orgasm. When Carmy feels you throb in his mouth, the suction grows gentle. He pulls back, but only for a second. He guides you, and he keeps your clit suckled carefully between his lips. 

Liquid drips out of you again, trailing out of your hole. With Carmy’s face still shoved into you pussy like this, it dribbles down his chin, down the front of his shirt. This time, you don’t care, fists tight in his hair to keep him there. As your grip tightens, you distantly register Carmy sharply moaning, almost as if he’s coming himself. You didn’t think you saw him touching himself, but maybe he was, with the way he sounds. 

You lay there with your eyes closed a little bit, drifting with the feeling. Carmy’s finally peeled his mouth off of you, leaving you to throb and drip in the open air. He always does this to you, that bastard. Wrings you out, sucks your soul out of your pussy and leaves you withered on the sheets. He’s always had an appetite, to say the least. 

When you open your eyes and look down, you see Carmy resting his cheek on your inner thigh. He meets your gaze, and his cheeks have a beautiful flush to them. 

“I saw it, this time,” he says. 

“Huh?” You react, instinctively, and then you remember. The sight of fluid dripping off Carmy’s chin, his tank top so drenched its transparent on his chest—it makes you realize. It must show in your face, because Carmy’s grinning, a small, yet proud thing. His lips are even more glossy than before. “Stop that,” you protest, but there’s no heat behind it. You’re too tired. 

“Stop what?” He responds, playful. He’s still smiling, though. He knows, so you roll your eyes. 

“Were you touching yourself?” You ask instead.

“No,” he admits, and your eyebrows raise. “Got close, though.” 

“Mm.” Wow, you think. The thought of him almost coming, completely untouched, gasping against your spasming cunt—it renders you speechless. “Let me see you,” you say, finally. “I need a minute. But…in the mean time…”

And because he’s Carmy, of course he gets a little embarrassed. You recognize it in the way he looks to the side, at you, and then to the side again before unbuttoning his jeans. 

If you hadn’t just came so hard you saw the pearly gates, the sight of him would’ve gotten you wet. Not to say that you don’t still enjoy it, though. As Carmy shimmies out of his jeans, you zone in on the wet spot on the front of his boxers. His boxers are so tented it looks painful. 

Well, maybe not quite as painful as how hard he is. 

It’s as if you had him in your mouth. His tip is flushed, reddened by nothing except eating you out. It’s dribbling with pre-come. You think you’re drooling. You’ve seen longer cocks, but you haven’t seen any quite as thick. His cock is heavy, and your gaze traces the vein on the underside of it. 

“I want you,” you say, before he can protest. He maintains this bad habit of dealing with his arousal himself after he’s wrung you out. You understand why—he can’t bear to ask much of you, not when he gets self-conscious. But, shit, you want him. You always want him, even if he doesn’t want himself. 

“You’re sure?” he asks, positioning himself above you. He’s so careful, even when you can hear the thinly-veiled arousal just behind it. 

“I’ll need a minute or two,” you elaborate, “but. Yeah.” You smile at him then, and although you mean for it to be more sweet, it’s definitely more salacious. “I want you to fuck me,” you whisper, spreading your legs for him. You snake a hand down to your pussy and spread your lips wide. You clench your hole, too, because you know he’s looking. 

Carmy doesn’t respond for a moment. His eyes are elsewhere, and it makes your smile widen. 

“Goddamn,” he mutters, mostly to himself. His eyes look back up towards you, blue reflected against brown. “You’re just…”

“Just what?” You run your tongue over your lips. 

“You’re way too fuckin’ hot,” he mumbles, like it’s sacrilege. He positions himself over you then, cock resting against the warmth of your pussy. He feels heavy against you and is equally as hot. His eyes flutter shut for a moment, soaking you in. “Shit…”

“Not yet,” you remind him in a whisper. His eyes flutter open again, half-lidded. “Kiss me for a bit instead?”

You barely even had to ask. 

Because he’s so lovely, he kisses you. His lips are hot and wet from eating you out, and you taste yourself on him. Your head is distant after coming viciously twice in a row, and you ride the wave of Carmy’s tongue in your mouth, slow and sweet. And all the while, his hard cock rests heavy against the folds of your hot pussy. It feels like a dream.

You can tell the arousal is getting to his head. Rather, it’s already gotten to his head. His kisses started sweet, slow, but he’s getting hungrier, unable to resist. 

“I’m not gonna last,” he admits, panting against your lips. You pull back to stare into his dark eyes, pupils blown with arousal. 

“That’s okay, I just wanna make you feel good.” You laugh breathlessly. You love seeing him all worked up like this. “Fuck me, Carmy… I’m ready for you.”

“When you say it like that…” Carmy’s amused smile poorly veils his arousal. 

He rubs his flushed head at your sensitive clit, grinding on it, tapping it. You keen, thighs twitching from the little jolts of pleasure. Then he drags himself down, tip of his cock nestled as your entrance, and he pushes in. 

The both of you let out a shaky exhale when the head pops in. Carmy’s panting into the crook of your neck, breaths hot and heavy. 

“Takin’ me so well,” he murmurs. “Fuckin’...shit…” He pushes in further, dragging slowly along your tight, wet walls. 

“Carmy,” you moan sweetly, arms linked around his neck to keep him close. “You feel so good inside me…” You let out a muffled moan into his shoulder when he bottoms out. He fills you up just right, the perfect amount of stretch…

“Dirty girl, fuckin’ squeezing around me like this…” He’s stopped moving, stilling in your contracting pussy. There’s beads of sweat in his hairline. “Fffuck…”

“Don’t you wanna come?” You whisper, and you grind down on his cock, making him moan into your neck. You trail a hand down to trace your stretched lips molded to the shape of his cock. Wetness gathers on your fingertips, and you drag it up to your exposed clit. It’s all so slippery, nothing left untouched.

“Not yet…I wanna at least fuck you a little.” This makes the both of you laugh. 

“Just use me, Carm,” you plead. “However you want.”

This makes Carmy untuck his face from your neck. His expression is nigh indescribable, a mix of animalistic, horny, and eager. 

“However I want?” He echoes back, quietly. 

“However you want,” you repeat, and warmth swells in your gut. As if you couldn’t be more turned on than you already are. 

You’re not sure what you expect from him after that. Part of you expects him to start ramming into you, skin slapping hard against skin. To fuck you so hard that you can barely breathe. To grab at your hips to slam you back down when he fucks forward. It…wouldn’t be the first time. 

So, you admit that when he does the opposite, you’re a bit surprised. 

He drags his cock out slowly, so slowly. It’s almost torture, the way he’s pulling back inch by inch. It forces you to feel every ridge of his cock, every vein and curve against the length of your walls. Your eyes flutter shut, heat surging through you in a new way. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble under your breath. His head is just about to pop out when he pushes back in again, slowly…

“You’re perfect,” Carmy moans. “Fuck, you’re so good…” His cock resheathes itself in you gradually. The slowness of it forces you to really feel how he carefully fills you up to the brim, really feeling the shape of his swollen head inside of you…

After he’s done this two more times, that’s when you realize exactly what he’s doing. 

He’s luxuriating in the feeling of you, taking in everything you can give him. He’s indulging in you like a sin. He’s taking his time to relish in every sensation, every little feeling, every little part of you that he loves. There’s no rush to orgasm, no hurry to finish, only taking the time to let the pleasure permeate fully through the both of you.

Emotion swells in your chest. 

“I love you, Carmy,” you moan all of a sudden. This slow fucking has you feeling a whole new type of crazy. You’ve never felt his cock like this before. 

“Baby,” he whispers. “I love you so much.” Fuck, he’s pushing in again. You just can’t catch a break. 

“Kiss me,” you whimper, and he obliges immediately. 

Although you wanted to kiss him, you’re having a time of it. With this slow fucking, the pleasure’s creeping up on you, and you can’t stop moaning against his lips. He patiently kisses you through it, although it helps that he’s somewhat the same. 

“I’m close,” Carmy moans, verging on a whine. “Can’t take much more…”

“I, I can’t either,” you stutter. The sneaking pleasure is swelling inside of you like a balloon, straining, about to burst. His even thrusts have become hastier, a bit jagged, but still slow. 

“Wanna feel you come on my cock,” he pleads. He’s pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth, your neck. “Then I’ll come inside you…please, baby…”

His fingers are messily rubbing your slippery clit from side to side, and that’s all that it takes for you to come. 

“I—I—oh my god—” You let out a high-pitched, wrecked noise as you come tight around his cock, pussy pulsing. Sharp pleasure tightens your body like a bow. You throw your head back, mouth open in a silent scream. He slowly fucks your contracting pussy through it, but not for long. 

“Fucking—shit—” Carmy moans beautifully as he comes, face tucked into your neck. His ragged moans are nestled right next to your ear, letting you hear every little breath and whine he fails to swallow. You feel him pulse inside you, filling you…

After three destructive orgasms, you’re on the verge of falling asleep on the couch. It doesn’t matter that Carmy’s softened cock is still inside of you, either. You’re exhausted.

“Baby,” Carmy murmurs. He’s spooning you, holding you in his arms. He kisses the side of your face, lips dragging tiredly. “We gotta get up.”

“Mmgh,” you grunt back. You’ve both been cuddling on the couch for a while now, but you still don’t wanna get up. 

“Baby,” he tries again, amusement coloring his voice. 

“How about you come three times and see how you feel after that,” you mumble, and that gets a laugh out of him. 

“That’s fair.” He moves carefully, gently slipping of you. The change in pressure makes you sigh, especially feeling him drip out of you. “C’mon. I’ll carry you to the bathroom.”

“Okay,” you mumble, begrudgingly moving to sit up. He scoops you, one hand behind your back and the other tucked behind your knees. The angle makes his cum drip out of you more. You squeeze your hand between your legs, sealing your hand against your pussy. 

“Maybe next time we’ll make it four,” he teases, and you slap a hand against his chest, making him smile mischievously.

“Maybe next time I’ll wreck you instead,” you say, leaning your head against his chest. You hear his low laugh right against your ear, and you smile. 

I love him, you think again, and you close your eyes. 

[cherrylovelycherry]

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and a pain au chocolat."

Trios never work

pairing. Aventurine x gn!reader x Dr ratio (poly) cw/genre. angst, some slow burn, anxiety vomiting, drink, being left out, slight addiction issue. synopsis. you couldn't stand to be left out any longer. full menu

You watched the television disinterestedly, not paying attention to whatever is on that channel.

You, Aventurine and Ratio have been together for a little over a year now. At first, it was great, you three were inseparable and you did almost everything together. Moved in, split chores and expenses, that sort of thing.

That is, until you started being left out by them. You've always known they're closer to each other as they've been in love for time, but why did they even want you there if they'd just… forget about you?

Today is no different, unfortunately. You're stuck beside them, having to watch them cuddle and talk to each other while you just sit by yourself. Finally having enough, you stand from your spot, making your way towards the door.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" Aventurine asks as Ratio buries his face into his neck gently, his arms around his waist. Ratio looks up at you as well, his eyes taking in your expression, "You look upset. Is something bothering you?"

Your shoulders slump, eyes not quite meeting theirs. "Nothing." you reply softly, shifting uncomfortably. A slight lie.

Your throat tightens, "I was just going to go for a little walk," you murmur, a forced smile on your lips.

Ratio gives you a slightly skeptical look before sitting up to properly look at you, his arms still around Aventurine. "Why do you need a walk? Are you feeling unwell?" He asks.

"No, I just…" You stumble over your words, your voice growing shaky. "I just need a bit of air. Fresh air." They're so focused on you, eyes scanning you with hints of worry and curiosity, and yet—you still can't help but feel left out. It's the way they're still holding close to each other, not making any effort to reach out to you instead. It stings a bit.

There's a bit of a pause, the air between you turning a little tense as Ratio seems to think over your answer. He nods slowly, resting his chin on Aventurine’s shoulder.

"Alright then. Go on." He says, turning his head to press a kiss to Aventurine’s neck.

Your heart sinks a little at his words. It was so easy for him to just tell you to go. No offer to come with or ask if he should come with, nothing. It made the ache in your chest worse.

You nod silently, not trusting your voice. "I'll be going now. I'll be back soon." You murmur, slipping your shoes on and opening the door.

Aventurine opens his mouth to say something, but you’re already walking towards the front door. "Be careful on your walk," he calls out, "Don’t be out too late." You simply nod as you open the door, a small sigh of relief escaping your lips as you step outside.

You walk aimlessly, taking in the fresh air and the peaceful night sky. Still, your thoughts aren't very positive. Your mind keeps running back on how close they were, how lonely you felt being right next to them. It's exhausting, really, and it hurts more than you care to admit.

Both are left sitting together on the sofa, looking towards the door that you'd just walked out of. Aventurine hums gently. "They seemed a bit upset, don't you think?"

Ratio lets out a thoughtful hum, his expression a little grim. "Yeah…" He mutters, his eyes glued to the door. "I noticed too." His fingers begin to trace patterns on Aventurine’s waist, his touch almost absentminded as he thinks to himself.

"They've been acting a bit strange lately as well," he points out after a few moments of silence. "More down or distant, I think."

You walked leisurely through the cheerful and welcoming streets of Penacony. Which, despite being so, you did not find at all amusing.

It felt more, shall we say, boring.

You went up to the highest rooftops, seeing how pretty the lights looked and people enjoying themselves.

You felt jealous when you saw a couple taking pictures of each other. You shook your head, pushing those thoughts away.

To tell you the truth, the flat they bought here is only provisional since your boyfriends are on some kind of; mission? assignment?

You didn't really understand.

And of course, you being their partner, you're always with them wherever they go.

You sighed, crossing your arms a little as you leaned against the railings of the rooftop, looking down at the people below and the lights. The cool night air blew gently, gently brushing your hair with it.

You stayed there for a while, simply taking in the sights and sounds of the city around you. For a while it's peaceful and pleasant, a temporary distraction from the thoughts in your head. However, after a while, your mind drifts back to Ratio and Aventurine, and the ache in your chest returns.

Your mind drifts back to what's happening at home. Aventurine and Ratio. They're probably cuddling each other right now. Or they're watching a movie together. Or maybe they are kissing each other.

The thought makes your insides twist uncomfortably.

The entire place came to view before you as a chilly breeze passes you.

You let out a tiny shiver and cross your arms, hoping that it would help protect you from the cold air.

You check your phone. How long has it been since you left? Thirty minutes? An hour? Maybe two? Should you be getting back soon?

Above all, no messages or calls.

Just a few more minutes, you convince yourself. Just a few minutes more.

You let out a frustrated sigh, burying your head into your arms for a moment. The thoughts in your mind becoming louder with each passing minute.

This was unfair. They didn't even try to contact you. Not even a word.

However, you tried to cheer yourself up, thinking that maybe they had just fallen asleep. And that they were worried about you.

…Yeah, that must be it. They are probably sleeping right now. They are probably worried sick.

You try to convince yourself that they are worried just as much as you.

How can they not care? They love you, right? They care about you, right? You've been together for so long. There's no way they suddenly don't care anymore. Right?

You push yourself up, letting out a shaky breath.

You started walking again, with slow, leisurely steps.

Not to the flat, but to the bar you once stumbled upon while exploring.

Once you reached the bar, you push open the doors, stepping into the dimly lit room. There was a soft hum of music playing in the background, and several patrons were seated at the bar or lounging in the booths.

You took a quick glance around, taking in the cozy atmosphere of the place. It seemed like a nice place to relax and think.

You made your way over to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools and leaning forward on the counter.

You didn't really realise how much time you spent there, at least you weren't falling or tripping over anything as you walked back to your temporary home.

However, you did have some alcohol in your veins.

You had fun, you met new people, including a Gallagher and a Siobhan.

And now you were slowly stumbling around the streets, your mind and body fuzzy from intoxication. The alcohol had definitely taken its toll on you, dulling your senses and affecting your judgment.

As you reached your temporary home, you fumbled with the keys, trying to find the right one to unlock the door. Finally, after a few failed attempts, you manage to open the door and stumble inside.

The living room was dimly lit, with just a few lamps lit around the room. Ratio and Aventurine were nowhere to be seen, and a quick glance around confirmed that they were probably in the bedroom.

You stumble over to the couch, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. You drop down onto the cushions with a soft thump, your body feeling heavy and tired.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath as you lean back against the couch. Your head was spinning slightly from the alcohol, but despite that, your mind suddenly became more clear.

All the thoughts you've been pushing down started flooding back in, and your chest clenches painfully as you’re reminded of why you went out in the first place.

Sighing deeply, you got up from the sofa, slowly taking off your shoes.

Then you made your way to the bedroom.

There you both were, sleeping face to face.

Without thinking too much and without changing your clothes, you climbed into bed, putting yourself in the middle of both of them, trying to make some space for yourself. Being careful not to wake them up.

Ratio stirred slightly as you settled yourself beside him, his arm wrapping around your waist unconsciously. Aventurine shifted closer to you, pressing his body against yours.

You were surrounded by them, their bodies warm and familiar.

For a while, you just lay there between them, feeling the rise and fall of their breaths, listening to the soft rustling of their limbs.

You felt a strange mix of comfort and pain at being here. Comforted by their presence, pained by how distant they felt.

You were tired, both physically and emotionally. Your body ached from the alcohol, and your heart ached with something else.

Lying there, between the two men you loved, you felt more alone than ever.

But, oh, the warmth they radiated made your eyes glaze over.

They were so close, yet so far away.

They clutched onto you, as if they needed you, but they didn't?

You couldn't help but watch them as they slept, Ratio's arm wrapped firmly around your waist, Aventurine's head resting on your shoulder.

Everything felt so familiar, yet so… distant.

Were you overthinking things? Were you making a big deal out of this?

They love you… right?

You watch as Ratio mumbled something in his sleep, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat at the action, a strange mix of warmth and pain coursing through your body.

You knew you shouldn't be feeling like this. You shouldn't be doubting their love for you. They've been with you for so long, they've said they love you so many times.

But still, the doubts linger in your mind, whispering and gnawing at your heart.

Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was just your own insecurities, but you suddenly felt the urge to cry.

Maybe it was just the alcohol.

You opened your eyes slowly, almost as if you didn't want to wake up from your warm and peaceful sleep.

You found yourself lying on your back, your head resting on a firm yet comfy pillow. There was a comforting pressure on both sides of your waist, holding you carefully but firmly in place.

As you opened your eyes more, you realized that you weren't alone in bed. Ratio and Aventurine's bodies were pressed against yours from both sides, their limbs tangled with yours in a way that you were completely encircled between them.

Ratio's head was resting on your shoulder, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm and slow against your skin.

Aventurine's arm was draped over your waist, his hand resting firmly but gently on your hip. His forehead was pressed against your shoulder, his messy hair tickling your face.

"Morning…" Ratio mumbled groggily as you struggled in their grips, his arm tightening around your waist.

Aventurine stirred as well, nuzzling his face into your shoulder and mumbling something incoherent.

You could feel the warmth of their breath against your skin, the way their bodies were still pressed against yours with no signs of moving.

You groaned again, feeling like you were trapped in a warm, loving cage.

But despite the comfort, you felt frustrated.

"Stop…" You muttered, trying to push them off.

The two men responded with mumbled protests, their grips on your waist only getting tighter.

"Come on guys, you have work to do." You spoke, tiredly.

They both grumbled, starting to let go of you little by little.

"No offense," Ratio mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep, "But you smell like alcohol. Did you drink last night?" Aventurine opened his eyes slowly, looking up at you from his spot on your shoulder.

His voice was gentle but held a hint of concern. "Yeah, where'd you go?" He asked softly, rubbing at his eyes.

Great, just great.

You could already feel the hangover creeping in, and to add to your misery, there was a hint of concern in their voices.

You tried to brush it off, giving them a small smile.

"That doesn't matter…" You mumbled, avoiding both of their gazes. "What matters is you two have work to do."

Ratio sighed, letting his grip on you loosen completely. "We do have work, but we're more concerned about you," He said, propping himself up on his elbow.

Aventurine followed, propping himself up next to Ratio and looking at you with an expression that was a mix of concern and annoyance.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. At the time they worried.

"I just needed some space." You replied, feeling like a child getting scolded, shifting slightly to try and sit up.

"Space, huh?" Aventurine said, his voice still slightly hoarse from sleep. "You could have at least told us where you were going."

Ratio chimed in as well, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. "Yeah, a warning would have been nice. We were worried about you."

This time you rolled your eyes quietly, but tried not to show them any obvious annoyance.

"I'm a grown adult," you retorted, a hint of defensiveness in your voice. "I can handle myself."

Ratio raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes searching your face. "That doesn't mean we're not going to worry." he said, his voice firm.

Aventurine sat up as well, propping himself up with one arm.

"It's not about you being able to handle yourself," he said, his voice a mixture of annoyance and concern. "We had no idea where you were."

Ratio nodded in agreement, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Oh. When I got home, they were sleeping peacefully." You said, with a hint of bitterness.

They both exchanged glances, the annoyance in their expressions not going unnoticed by you.

Ratio sighed, running a hand through his hair once more.

"That's not the point," he said, his voice still firm. "You were gone for hours. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

Aventurine joined in as well, his voice slightly more gentle than Ratio's. "We thought something might have happened to you."

You let out a heavy sigh, not saying anything.

Aventurine's voice still laced with concern. "You could have at least texted us."

Then he reached over and touched your arm gently. "It's just… we care about you. We want to know you're safe."

You bit back the urge to scoff at the hypocrisy.

"Yeah, well… I'm fine. See?" You gestured to yourself, trying to show that you were indeed in one piece.

You could feel the guilt creeping in, mixed with annoyance. Why did they suddenly care now?

"I just needed…", you paused, trying to find the right word to describe your current feelings. "space," you finished lamely.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance before looking back at you.

"Space from what?" Ratio asked, his tone slightly colder now.

You were starting to feel frustrated.

Why was it suddenly such a big deal? Why did they have to make such a big issue out of you needing some time alone?

"Space from…", you started to respond, but then you hesitated.

How could you possibly explain it to them without sounding needy or clingy?

You wanted to tell them what's been bothering you, but something held you back.

Maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was the fear of sounding like a needy child.

But before you could find the words, Ratio spoke up.

"Space from us, I presume." He said, his voice cool. "You needed space from us, didn't you?"

You felt a pang of guilt at Ratio's words, your heart clenching in your chest.

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but you could feel the emotions starting to bubble up inside of you.

"No," you lied, immediately. "It's not that."

Aventurine raised an eyebrow at your denial, his grip on your arm tightening slightly.

"Then what is it?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Ugh, please don't do this." You said grabbing your head. The hangover was starting to affect you harder, combining with the stress you felt now.

Ratio chuckled quietly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Oh, so now we're being dramatic, huh?" he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Aventurine spoke up as well, his voice tinged with irritation. "We're not doing anything, we're just trying to understand what's going on with you."

Ratio leaned back, propping himself up against the headboard.

"You've been acting different lately," he said, his gaze focused on you. "More distant, less responsive."

You wanted to protest, to deny their accusations, but the words got stuck in your throat. They were right, and you knew they were right.

But you couldn't tell them why. Not yet, at least.

"I've just… been feeling a bit stressed," you replied vaguely, avoiding their gazes.

"Come on, don't give us that bullshit."

At Aventurine's words, your eyes widened slightly. He normally didn't say that kind of thing.

However, that didn't stop you from feeling uncomfortable and with a taste of pure bitterness in your mouth.

You proceeded to let out an unfunny laugh, as you got out of bed.

"My head hurts too much for this." You said, with some coldness in your tone as you left the room.

"You two should already be continuing with your work. That's why both came here." You raised your voice so they could hear you since you were heading towards the kitchen.

As they heard your words, Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance.

Ratio ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh.

"They are so damn… infuriating," he muttered, his annoyance evident.

Aventurine nodded, his expression mirrored Ratio's frustration. "I don't even know what's going on with them," he replied, running a hand over his face. "They are been acting weird for days now."

You could hear them both stirring in the bedroom, their voices lowered, but you knew they were talking about you.

"Probably bad things.", you thought.

You rubbed your temples as you entered the kitchen, the lights feeling brighter and only making your migraine worse.

You rummaged through the cabinets, looking for a painkiller or something, when you heard footsteps behind you.

"You shouldn't mix alcohol with pain killers, y'know," Ratio's voice was low and calm, but there was an edge to it.

You paused what you were doing, looking over your shoulder at him.

Ratio's face was set in a frown, and Aventurine's expression was stern.

He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.

You didn't respond, continuing to rummage through the cabinets in search of pain medication.

Ratio watched you silently for a moment, his eyes studying your every move.

"You're being stubborn," he said after a while, his voice neutral yet laced with annoyance.

"Thanks." You responded dryly, in a murmur.

Ratio rolled his eyes at your response, his annoyance growing visible.

"You know that's not what I meant," he sighed, running a hand through his hair once more.

It was becoming a tic of his.

Aventurine spoke up as well, his voice a bit calmer than Ratio's.

"You're acting like a child." He said, crossing his arms over his chest as well.

Oh, Aeons.

You felt frustrated by their words and by the pain in your head.

You slammed the cabinet shut with more force than necessary and turned to face them.

"Both should stop wasting time here and concentrate on your work." You spat, rubbing your head with both hands, you felt like it was going to explode at any moment.

Ratio raised an eyebrow at your sudden outburst, his expression slightly surprised.

"And there it is," he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "The real Y/N, finally decided to show up."

Aventurine watched you intently, his eyes scanning your face.

"Oh, because we're wasting time by trying to check on your well-being?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Aventurine stayed silent, simply observing your interaction with Ratio. He was probably trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation.

Ratio took a couple steps closer to you, his gaze not leaving yours.

"You should stop being so goddamn stubborn and just talk to us." He said, his annoyance growing more noticeable.

Oh no. You started to feel the sudden urge to vomit. That was bad.

Your expression went from irritated to slightly dizzy.

"Guys, stop it, we can continue later." You said, as you grabbed onto the kitchen counter.

The nausea was the effect of the hangover and excessive stress you were feeling now.

Ratio immediately realized something was wrong as he noticed your expression changing. His annoyance was quickly replaced by concern.

"Y/N?" he asked, taking another step towards you, his eyes watching your hand clutching the counter.

Aventurine also moved closer, his gaze shifting between you and Ratio. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the nausea that was rising in your stomach. "I'm fine," you said weakly, but your trembling voice betrayed your words.

"Maybe I need—" Your words were cut off by the urgent need to throw up, causing you to cover your mouth, running towards the bathroom.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance before following hot on your heels. They hurried into the bathroom, just in time to see you hunched over the toilet, vomiting.

Ratio gently placed a hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles as you retched.

Aventurine appeared again in the doorway with a glass of water in hand.

"Here," Ratio said, grabbing the water from Aventurine and handing it to you. "Drink slowly."

You gripped the glass of water with trembling fingers, taking a few small sips as Ratio instructed. The cool liquid helped to soothe your burning throat.

After a while, your vomiting subsided, leaving you feeling even more weak and tired than before. You slumped back against Ratio, feeling completely drained and miserable.

"Sorry," you whispered, your voice raspy and weak.

Ratio shook his head, his hand still rubbing slow circles on your back. "Don't apologize," he said softly.

By the time you turned to look at Aventurine, he was gone.

You did the same to see Ratio who was next to you, he wasn't there either.

Oh, right. They were never here with you, they stayed in the kitchen. You never drank water, you never had your back rubbed.

You really wondered what the hell was wrong with you.

You stood up heavily from the ground, rinsing your mouth with the water from the tap, and flushing the toilet. Then with slow steps you returned to the bedroom.

You didn't care to know if they were still in the apartment.

You hated it when your body reacted to your stress.

They were engaged in hushed whispers, their voices too low for you to hear. They stayed in the kitchen, just like you thought.

When they saw you walk in the bedroom, they immediately stopped talking and turned to look at you.

Ratio's expression was a mix of concern and annoyance, his arms crossed over his chest. Aventurine, on the other hand, had a troubled look on his face, his brows furrowed in thought.

At least you would feel calm being alone in the apartment. Without showing each other affection every minute, in front of you, without giving you anything like that.

You climbed into bed, covering yourself with the covers, trying to relax.

A few minutes passed before Aventurine spoke out loud.

"Uhm, we're leaving, we'll be back soon." He said.

You heard the door open and close.

You were glad to hear the sound of the door closing behind, signaling that they were leaving. At least you could finally have some peace and quiet.

You closed your eyes and attempted to fall asleep, hoping to get some rest and recover from the hangover and the previous encounter.

You rested a little more, after a few hours you got up and tried to distract yourself.

You watched television, you played games on your phone, you ate the odd snack. That is until it got later.

While you were on the couch, you heard the door open. They had returned.

Ratio and Aventurine walked through the door, their expressions serious.

Aven, as usual, was the first to speak up. "Hey."

Hey, is that all they could say? It was as if they didn't realize that they were being insensitive.

But suddenly you were doing it too, so you ignored it.

Ratio spoke up as well, his expression slightly softer. "How are you feeling?"

You shrugged, not meeting their gaze. "Good." You replied coldly, trying to hide your annoyance.

Aventurine gave you a quick glance before sighing. "We brought food." He said, holding up a bag containing takeout food.

"Oh, uhm." You blurted out, feeling uncomfortable.

"Thank you, but I'm not very hungry." You got up from the couch, leaving the television on, while you stretched.

"I'm going out for a while again." You said, walking into the bedroom, and changing out of your sleepwear into something simple.

Ratio and Aventurine exchanged a quick glance as you left to change. They were both aware of the tension in the air and your mood.

Ratio let out a sigh.

"This is hopeless," he muttered, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Aventurine looked at Ratio, understanding his frustration.

"We just have to keep trying," he replied, though his voice had a tinge of uncertainty.

You left the room, going to put on your shoes, passing them.

"Well, I'll be right back." You said calmly.

Ratio couldn't help but roll his eyes at your words.

"Yeah, we'll see about that." He muttered under his breath. Aventurine gave him a stern look, silently warning him not to push things further. They both knew that this situation was quickly becoming a headache for all three of you.

You finished putting your shoes on and grabbed your keys, leaving the house without saying another word.

They watched as you closed the door behind you. The silence in the apartment became thick and uncomfortable. The television was on, being the only sound that could be heard.

This type of situation happened, once, twice, three times. And more.

A little routine of yours, like you try not to be in the apartment when they are there too.

Waking up tired and dizzy, saying cold and boring words between the three of them, waiting for hours for them to return and once they did, you went to the bar, returning hours later, tripping over things in the apartment, falling asleep on the couch or in bed.

And it was repeated, again.

Again, and again, and again, and again.

The cycle seemed endless, caught in a loop that seemed impossible to break.

Ratio and Aventurine were frustrated, frustrated by the walls you had built around yourself and the communication issues that prevented you from opening up.

They wanted to help you, but they didn't know how to approach the situation. They couldn't help but feel like they were doing something wrong.

But no, that couldn't be, they knew they weren't doing anything wrong. Right?

Ratio and Aventurine sat in silence for a while, both lost in thought. They knew they needed to address the situation, but it was hard, especially since you were avoiding them.

"I hate this," Ratio finally spoke up, breaking the silence. "I hate that they are behaving like this."

Aventurine nodded, a frustrated expression on his face. "I know." He said, holding Ratio's hand.

It was already nearing midnight, and there was no sign of you returning home, again.

The atmosphere was thick with tension and frustration. They had been talking about you, again.

This time they would wait for you, they were not going to rest until they could talk to you once and for all and stop making you avoid the conversation.

"I feel like we're going around in circles." Ratio spoke up again. "Every time we try to talk to them, they shuts us out. It's like they are not even trying."

Aventurine squeezed Ratio's hand, trying to comfort him. "There must be a reason why they are acting like this," he said, although even he seemed doubtful.

Ratio let out a bitter laugh. "Is there? Because I can't think of one that makes sense."

They waited, and waited, and waited.

Time dragged on slowly, tick, tock, tick, tock, the clock seemed to move slower every second.

They waited with anticipation and expectation, sitting motionless on the couch, their eyes fixed on the front door.

And then, finally, they heard the jingle of keys, the sound of the door opening, and your footsteps entering.

Ratio and Aventurine immediately sat up straight, turning to look at you as you stepped inside.

As a matter of course, you were drunk.

Ratio and Aventurine couldn't help but notice the way you swayed slightly as you walked, a slight flush on your cheeks betraying your intoxication.

Ratio let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you. "Where have you been all night?" he asked, his voice betraying his annoyance.

Aventurine, sensing the tension in the room, stayed silent but placed a calming hand on Ratio's arm, hoping to soothe the situation.

"Having fun." You said, smiling a little.

Ratio's eyes narrowed at your response. "Having fun? Is that what you call it? Drinking yourself into oblivion every day?"

Aventurine shot Ratio a look, silently urging him to calm down. Him speaking this time.

"We're worried about you, you know that?" he continued, his voice rising. "We—"

"Hah, like you said—don't give me that bullshit." Your voice came out almost with spit words.

Your mind was fuzzy.

Ratio clenched his fists, his irritation growing. "We're not giving you bullshit. We care about you, damnit."

You chuckled bitterly, your words slurring slightly. "Yeah, I'm sure you care, but only when it suits you both."

Ratio's eyes widened at your response, his anger rising. "Excuse me?"

"We're the ones who should be getting pissed off here. You're the one who's been acting like a complete mess."

Aventurine tried to interject again. "Ratio, this isn't—"

But Ratio wasn't having it. "No, Aven. They needs to hear this." He turned back to you. "You've been avoiding us, avoiding everything, and for what? So you can go get drunk every night?"

"Yeah, exactly. Because being around you two is so damn great." You retorted, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

Ratio's expression darkened even further, his next words cutting through the air like a dagger.

"Oh, is that right? I guess being with us is so unbearable that you have to go out and get drunk every night instead of staying here and facing your own damn problems."

Your eyes narrowed at Ratio's words, your own anger starting to boil over.

"Yeah, because it's better than dealing with your bullshit all the time."

Ratio let out a bitter laugh. "Bullshit? You think we're bullshitting you? We're the ones who've been putting up with your crap, your avoiding us, your reckless behavior."

Your eyes widened at Ratio's harsh words, hurt flashing across your face.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," you said angrily, your voice shaking. "You have no idea how I feel."

Ratio scoffed, his irritation reaching a boiling point. "Oh, really? Then why don't you enlighten us? Why do you feel the need to drink every night?"

"Seriously, you can tell us." Aventurine said, his brow now furrowed, a mix of worry and frustration on his face.

You let out a scoff, your words coming out in a rush. "And what, you want me to spill my heart out to you two, like it's some kind of therapy session? I didn't realize I was dealing with a couple of psychologists here."

Ratio let out a bitter laugh. "Well, it's not like you're giving us anything else to work with. You just keep drinking yourself into oblivion every night, avoiding us, avoiding any kind of conversation."

You clenched your fists, your frustration turning into anger. "Oh, aren't both of you so perfect?"

Ratio's expression hardened. "Don't try to turn this around on us. We never said we were perfect, but at least we're trying to communicate and have a conversation. You're the one who's refusing to listen or talk to us."

Aventurine interjected, his voice laced with concern. "Y/N, please. We just want to help you. We don't—"

"Help me?" You snapped, again cutting Aventurine off.

"Hey, watch your tone." Ratio said, at the shout you gave to Aventurine.

"Hah, just that.", You thought, looking at them with anger and irritation.

Your anger flared, your words coming out in a frustrated hiss. "Oh, and I'm supposed to believe that you really want to help me? Please. You're both probably just worried that I'm gonna ruin your perfect little lives."

Ratio's eyes widened at your accusation, stung by your words. "Is that really what you think of us? That we only care about ourselves?"

Aventurine spoke up again, his voice pleading. "No, that's not true at all. We care about you. We care about us."

"Yeah, right." You replied bitterly, crossing your arms.

Ratio's face twisted into a scowl. "We're just as messed up as you are. We have our own issues and problems to deal with. We don't need you acting like this, avoiding us, drinking excessively—"

"Yeah, because I'm the ONLY ONE who's being problematic, right?" You interrupted, sarcasm lacing your words. "Just because I don't sit next to both of you and start to fucking endure how both are so loving and happy between ONLY the two of you, I'm wrong here, huh?"

Ratio's jaw clenched tightly, his temper rising at your accusations.

"That's bullshit and you know it. We're a team, a relationship. We're supposed to be in this together, working through things together."

You felt the growing lump in your throat. "Fuck, no. We're not a team anymore, it's just you being a fucking couple."

You clenched your fists, trying to calm the wave of emotions that was washing over you.

Ratio's expression hardened at your words, his own emotions warring with his irritation.

"What the hell do you mean we're not a team anymore? We're still together, we're still—"

You cut him off, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "No, we're not. Not really. Not when you both spend all your time together, sharing moments, laughing, even in sex."

Ratio's eyes widened at your words, hurt evident on his face.

"Is that really what you think?" he asked, his voice low. "That we're just a couple and that you're not a part of us anymore?"

Aventurine's face fell, his expression pained. "No, that's not true. You're just as much a part of this relationship as we are."

"I'm just a third wheel," you said bitterly. "That's what I've always been."

Even though your words affected them, Ratio couldn't help but get more frustrated.

"And whose fault is that, huh? Whose fault is it that you keep pushing us away, that you keep avoiding us, that you keep getting drunk every damn night instead of dealing with the problem?"

You clenched your fists even tighter, your nails digging into your palms.

"Oh, so now it's MY fault, huh? It's MY fault that I feel left out, ignored, and sidelined?"

You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or cry at what he was saying.

"Yeah…maybe it's my fault." You spoke again, feeling your eyes sting. At any moment they would be filled with tears.

"It's my damn fault that both have sex secretly from me, it's my fault that both knew each other before, it's my fault that both are more affectionate with each other, it's my damn fault that both know each other much more than you two know me!"

And that's it, with that, your voice cut off. Being unable to see both men's faces as tears clouded your vision.

Ratio's expression softened at the sight of your tears, his irritation momentarily forgotten.

It was true, he and Aventurine had been more affectionate with each other lately. But that wasn't because they didn't care about you, it was just…

No, there really were no words to deny or defend the accusations.

He sighed, trying to find the words to explain themselves. "Look, we didn't mean for it to be like that. It just happened."

Aventurine spoke up, his voice soft. "We never wanted you to feel left out or ignored. We care about you, we really do."

Ratio stepped closer as well, his expression conflicted between anger and concern. "Y/N, we never wanted you to feel left out. That was never our intention."

But your emotions were running high.

"Then what was your intention, huh? To make me feel like an outsider in my own relationship?"

They both stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to that.

"That is what I thought." You blurted out, in frustration.

Ratio pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression shifting to frustration and guilt.

"That's not what we wanted, that's never what we wanted."

You let out a bitter, unfunny laugh, "Oh, shut it."

You were shaking, you really wanted to just not feel like that.

"It's always you two. Always Aventurine and Ratio. Always Kakavasha and Veritas."

"Fuck all that." You spat, as your tears began to come out like waterfalls.

"Where the hell was I there?" You sobbed, covering your face with both hands. You felt humiliated to be seen crying like that.

"I hate it so much." You mumbled, without a hint of stopping your crying.

Ratio's heart ached at the sight of your tears, realizing the depth of your emotional pain.

Aventurine stood beside him, visibly upset as well.

"Y/N, please…" He tried to reach out to you, his hand hovering in the air.

But you flinched away from his touch, your body shrinking back as more tears streamed down your face.

"Don't." You warned, your voice choked with sobs. "Don't touch me."

Ratio and Aventurine stood there, feeling helpless as they watched you cry.

"We never wanted to make you feel like this."

"You're lying." You retorted, your voice raw from crying.

Aventurine shook his head, his expression pleading. "No, that's not true. We love you, we truly do."

Ratio's hands were shaking slightly, torn between wanting to comfort you and respecting your wish not to be touched.

Aventurine looked like he was on the verge of tears as well, his shoulders slumped with guilt.

Ratio said softly. "We never meant for it to be this way."

But your words cut through the air between you all.

"Then why did it happen?" You asked, your voice laced with pain and anguish.

Ratio's jaw clenched as he struggled to find the words to explain.

"It just…happened." He said weakly. "We got caught up in our own relationship and didn't realize that we were neglecting you."

Aventurine nodded alongside him. "We messed up. We should have paid more attention to you, made more of an effort to include you in our activities."

Ratio winced, knowing how hollow those words sounded.

"But just because we made a mistake doesn't mean we don't care about you." Ratio was quick to add.

You let out a bitter chuckle through sniffles and sobs.

"…That 'mistake' is 3 fucking years old." You spoke in a muffled manner. Breathing heavily.

How they left you aside is not recent, it had been years. The bomb was accumulating until today it exploded.

The reality of the situation hit Ratio and Aventurine hard.

Three years. Three years of ignoring your emotions and needs. Three years of putting their own relationship before you, despite claiming that you were all equal in this relationship.

Both felt a pang of guilt and shame in their chest. How could they have let it go on for so long without realizing the harm they were causing you?

Aventurine looked equally devastated, his face pale and his eyes downcast.

"We…we never realized…" He began, his voice choked with emotion.

Ratio, seeing Aventurine's almost tearful state, rubbed his back slowly.

Ratio's head was spinning, trying to figure out how it had come to this. They had always thought that they were in a healthy and happy relationship. But clearly, they had failed to consider the impact their actions were having on you.

He looked at you, still crying and curled up on yourself. The guilt and remorse gnawed at his insides. He and Aventurine had been fools, blinded by their own selfishness and neglectful behavior.

Aventurine spoke up suddenly, his voice shaky. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell us how you felt?"

Ratio's eyes widened slightly. That was a fair question. Why hadn't you spoken up before now?

But he immediately realized the answer to that question. If you had tried to bring it up, how would they have reacted? Would they have dismissed your feelings, or maybe gotten defensive?

With your breath coming in ragged gasps, your body trying to catch the air lost through crying, you let out slight hiccups.

With one of your hands you wiped your wet cheeks.

Your head was beginning to ache from the alcohol in your veins and the dehydration from crying.

"Ah…it doesn't really matter anymore." You said, your voice hoarse.

And you were right, there was no point in questioning why, if you'd finished getting everything out that you'd been holding in for so long.

You felt their worried and trembling looks, you felt ashamed and humiliated for having exploded in such a way, your sobs had faded into sniffles and deep breathing.

They both listened to your words with a sinking feeling in their stomachs. Your voice was hoarse and strained, but the message was clear: you'd given up.

You stretched slightly in your seat, starting to walk towards the bedroom.

You wanted to simply rest from it all.

"I'm going to go to sleep now." You said, passing by both of their sides.

The conversation, or rather argument, had not ended well and just expressing yourself left you completely exhausted.

They both knew that they hadn't solved anything, that they'd done nothing more than reveal just how distant they had become from you.

Before you disappeared from his sight, Aven called out to you, making you turn around for a while.

"We love you, sweetheart."

That simple phrase made you let out a silent sigh.

As much as you wanted to smile at least a little, it only came out as a grimace.

"Uhm…okay, I guess." You said, not really feeling his words.

They felt totally empty.

You turned your head again, walking into the bedroom. Your mind was spinning, your thoughts were varying, the same with your feelings, they were all jumbled.

But at least one thing was clear to you; trios never work and never will.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[reidmania]

ILL ALWAYS COME GET YOU | SPENCER REID

description ;

Drinking your feelings after a bad day isn’t always a great idea, good thing your boyfriend, Spencer will always come get you.

Warnings ;

Fluff, slight angst but nothing crazy I dont think there is any gender mentioned, but let me know if there is, Mentions alcohol consumption, bad day at work, crying, basically spencer just comforting the fuck out of drunk reader. I think thats it.

a/n ;

i need spencer reid to comfort me when im drunk. NOT MY GIF!!

There was heavy blows of cold air that passed through the streets, the ones which were only being lit by the half broken street lights on every corner.

You could hear the faint sound of the music playing inside the bar that you had just stumbled out of, mixed with the cars driving past on the street. After maybe 5 drinks too many, everything was a little bit blurry, everything sort of sounded the same all at once.

Shaky hands reached for the phone that was buried somewhere in your big jacket pockets. The jacket was big and warm — not enough to shield you from the cold air.

Was it a smart decision to go to the bar and drink your body weight in alcohol — no, but emotional and stressed, you weren’t completely thinking straight when leaving work at merely 5pm, it had been hours, nearing 11.

It was meant to just be a couple of drinks to take the pressure off, then when the bartender asked you if you were okay, and the tear-flood started, every drink after that was a no brainer, soon enough you had enough to no longer worry about the damage the amount of alcohol you were consuming would do to your bank account.

Your hands fumbled with your phone, grateful for face ID since you doubted you would be coordinated enough to type your password without messing it up countless times and ending up locking yourself out of it.

It was a slight struggle trying to press on your contacts, when a few — probably just as drunk people, walked out of the bar behind you, reminding you that you were still stood in the doorway. After you shuffled over slightly, now out of the way. Your eyes stared at Spencer’s contact through blurry vision, considering whether or not it was worth calling — He was still working when you last spoke, maybe he was still at the office, busy, or better yet in bed asleep.

After a small sigh left your lips, the warm air from your mouth contradicting the cold air on the streets, a stem of steam followed your breath, which you found fascinating in your drunken state for a moment, before your attention was pulled back to your phone by the ringing sound.

Seeing Spencer’s contact light up your phone brought a small smile to your sad face, you were quick to answer, yet it took a minute to realise you had to put your phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You heard Spencers voice, softening a piece of your chest slightly. You assumed maybe he had been saying hello for the few seconds it had taken for you to pull your phone to your ear.

“Hi” You muttered back, drunk feet shuffling slightly as your words slurred. There were a few people still wandering around, going in and out of the bar, talking to each other or giving you strange looks which would’ve made you a little more insecure if the alcohol didn’t influence that part of your mind.

“Hey angel.” Spencer said, letting out a soft sigh of relief hearing your voice. “Where are you? You aren’t home” He said, voice itching with slight concern.

Your lips parted as you realised he had come home and you weren’t there — which would’ve been confusing because he knew you finished work hours ago, maybe you should have told him beforehand that you were planning on drinking your feelings in tequila shots.

“Im drunk” You said, not quite processing the question you had been asked.

You could hear Spencer chuckle on the other side of the phone, “I can tell baby, Where are you?” He asked, his voice was so soft and gentle, it almost made you emotional.

“Um” You hummed, spinning on your heels which only caused you to stumble slightly over your phone feet as you looked at the bar, which had its name written across the top, only that was a bit harder to read within your blurry vision.

“I dont know.” You pouted slightly, “That one bar” You muttered, hoping maybe he would know the exact one you were talking about. You assumed he would — it was the closest bar to your shared home, and the one you two went most often.

“Yeah?” He muttered, you nodded. Yet he couldn’t see that. There was a sound of slight shuffling on the other side of the phone, before you heard a door open and shut.

“I don’t think I can drive” You frowned as you looked around to try and find where your car was parked, you had come straight after work.

Spencer chuckled again. The sound was so comforting to you in your drunken state. Maybe it was silly how it made your downturned lips shift upwards into almost a smile.

“Im gonna pick you up, Angel. Just stay where you are for me okay?” He said. You heard another door open and close, which you assumed was his own car door. You hummed softly in agreement.

For the course of the next few minutes there was no conversation had between the two of you, you sat silently watching the cars on the street, while Spencer drove the few minutes down the road to the bar.

Soon the call ended, leaving you to frown as you stared at the phone, seeing it go back to where it was before you answered the call — on his contact. Before you even got the chance to call him back and cry about how rude it was for him to hang up on you like that, you heard your name being called.

Your head turned to the sound of his voice. He was standing there — still in his work clothes, making your frown only deepen, he hadn’t even had the chance to relax or change before he had to come pick you up.

“Hey baby” He cooed, taking your face in his hands as stood in front of you, taking in your puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. His thumb rubbed soothingly over the soft skin on your face.

You subconsciously leaned into the touch of his warm hands as you looked up at him, “You’re here” You said, sighing softly as you relished the warmth his body radiated.

He nodded, “Of course Im here. You wanna get home? You’re freezing.” He said, shaking his head softly, moving his hands from your face to your hands — which were seemingly colder.

You nodded wordlessly, he took that and wrapped his arm gently around your waist, leading you to his car. You tried not to stumble but it wasn’t working, without Spencer there holding your body tightly against his own you probably would’ve already fallen flat on your face. If he noticed your stumbling — he didn’t say anything.

He helped you into the passenger seat, before leaning over you slightly to pull your seatbelt on, despite your best efforts to do it yourself.

“But my car—” You muttered, sitting up a bit straighter as the realisation dawned on you that your car would be left here, your head turned slightly as the passenger seat door closed, Spencer didn’t say anything, before walking over to the drivers seat.

He got in. He must of noticed your distressed eyes staring at him when he looked over at you, pulling his own seatbelt on. “Your car is fine honey, we can come get it in the morning.”

You chewed at your lip as you looked down, nodding wordlessly at his solution. He drove without saying anything, but his hand sat warmly ontop of your thigh, thumb rubbing up and down gently as your head laid back against the head rest.

When you arrived outside your shared home, Spencer was quick by your side helping you out of the car and into the house, where he sat you down on the couch. The house was warm, which lead you to believe he had turned the heater on when he got home — or before he left to pick you up.

He returned to the living room with a large glass of water. “Drink” He hummed, handing you the glass. His hand stayed holding it till he was sure you had it tight in your grasp.

You nodded, taking a few small sips of it, before lowering it slightly. He shook his head dismissively, “All of it, Honey.” He said, two of his fingers brushing under the glass, encouraging it back up towards your lips.

You sighed, before obeying. Taking a few larger sips of water before the glass grew empty. Spencer hummed approvingly, taking the glass from your hands; standing up.

“Where are you going?” You pouted, looking up at him with a small hitch in your eyebrows. You could feel the heat blowing down from the ceilings, onto your bare legs.

Spencer paused in his movements, giving you a soft smile as he noticed your concern — as if you believed maybe he was leaving. “Getting you more water” He said.

“Spence.” Your tone was warning, dismissive of the idea of having to drink another large glass of water. He just continued walking to the kitchen. You heard the tap turn on and off before he returned, placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you rather than in your hands.

“You don’t have to drink this one all in one, you can just sip it” He said, before taking a seat next to you again, watching your head nod up and down softly.

You chewed at your lip, avoiding his gaze as even in your drunken state, your mind couldn’t seem to stop working over time — which was what got you in this position in the first place.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly, his body turning more towards your own. You looked up at him for a moment. It was a dangerous question he was asking, especially in your current state.

“I don’t know” You shrugged. It was the best you could muster up without spilling every little doubt in your mind. You didn’t know. You guessed that drinking your emotions automatically meant you weren’t okay, but it wasn’t like you were dying, or anything you wouldn’t get over.

Spencer sighed, a frown tugging at his lips as he watched you in your own world, living in your head. He knew you did this — overthought everything, worked yourself up.

“Why did you drink?” He asked, realising this may get more of an answer out of you to what was actually the matter — what the cause of your drunken state was.

You leant into his shoulder slightly, head resting on his chest, under his chin. His arm wasted no time wrapping around you shoulder, only pulling you in closer.

Your voice was quiet, words still slight slurred as you spoke — but they had been the whole time. “Work sucked” Your voice was barley audible — Your boyfriend would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been paying you his full attention.

That was a rare occasion anyways.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asked, hand rubbing soothingly over your clothed arm. You were quiet for a moment as you felt the tears reoccur in the back of your eyes. It seemed they had been there all day.

You shrugged, only making his frown deepen. He realised quickly — talking about it was not what you needed right now, what you did need in this moment — he was unsure of.

So he asked; “What do you need honey?”

You felt a hot tear against your cheek at the question. You were quick to wipe it away, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, he could hear the sadness in your voice, the need and desperation for some sort of comfort.

He places a gentle kiss to the top of your head, humming in response. “Course I can. Do you want to go change? Get into bed?” He asked softly, pulling you slightly away from his chest to look at your face, his own falling slightly as he noticed the big wet tears on your cheeks.

You nodded as a soft sob rippled from your throat, making his frown deepen. His thumb was instantly wiping your eyes softly. “Oh sweetheart” He cooed at your sad eyes. “Come on, lets go to bed”

Before you could even move to stand, his arms were around your waist, lifting you up gently. His hands holding you close to his chest as he walked to your shared bed room.

The entire way he was muttering sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you that everything was okay, that he loved you.

He placed you gently on the bed as he walked towards the wardrobe, He changed himself quickly into his pyjamas, any other time you would’ve cooed and adored the way he looked.

“Your clothes or mine?” He asked. It wasn’t an uncommon question, sometimes after showing together he would ask you if you wanted to wear his clothes or your own. It was a cute nothing.

“Yours.” You muttered, hand pulling to brush strands of hair out of your face as you watched him nod, grabbing out a pair of your own sweatpants, his t-shirt, and your favourite hoodie of his.

It was funny at first when you discovered he actually owned hoodies.

He was by your side moments later, gently pulling the big coat off your shoulders, before undressing you from the business attire you had been wearing all day, helping you into the clothes he had brought out for you.

Only minutes later your head was resting against his chest — the tears had officially stopped, his arms wrapped around you as your legs intertwined with his.

“Take the day off tomorrow” He whispered softly into your hair. You could feel the alcohol slowly processing away, not enough to be sober but enough to be a little more there.

You would’ve argued any other time, but you just nodded against his chest, before leaning away slightly, reaching over to grab your phone from where Spencer had plugged it in on your beside table.

He chuckled, grabbing your arm, “Tomorrow baby, not now.” He said softly.

You again didn’t argue, returning to your position before, hand scrunching into the fabric of Spencer’s pyjama top gently. “Thank you for coming to get me” You muttered tiredly as your eyes closed, breathing in his scent that only soothed every muscle in your body.

“I’ll always come get you.”

[luvzshy]

Hi, how are you? Hope everything is alright 😊

I've been out of work for a few days because I've had no power or signal at home since Friday due to a storm. I took advantage of the fact that I came to work today to check Tumblr.

This power outage gave me an idea (that you don't have to write if you don't feel like it): imagine if Billie is on tour and talks to her girlfriend every night after the show, but one day she can't get in touch, she gets worried and insecure. After a while, her girlfriend calls her and explains that she had no power or signal and that's why she couldn't tell Billie what was happening.

Have a great week!

a/n: hi my love, i am so so soooo sorry i didn’t answer to this before, i have been really busy:( but here u go baby, i hope ur okay, i love u smm!!!💕

Reconnected

Billie sits on the edge of the bed in her hotel room, staring at her phone for what feels like the hundredth time that night. It’s been a long, exhausting show—the kind that leaves her breathless and sore—but usually, the thought of hearing your voice makes it all worth it. She’s tried calling, texting, FaceTiming—anything to reach you. But each time, her attempts end the same way: a ringing tone that eventually goes silent, a voicemail that never changes.

“Hey, it’s me again,” she whispers into the phone, leaving yet another voicemail. “I’m just… I’m worried, okay? Please call me back when you can. I miss you. I love you.”

She hangs up and stares at the screen, hoping that this time it might light up with your name. But minutes turn into hours, and Billie’s mind starts to wander to dark places. What if something happened? What if you’re hurt, scared, alone? Or worse—what if you’re pulling away from her? The thought twists like a knife in her chest, her insecurities bubbling up to the surface.

Her hands tremble as she clutches the phone, biting back the urge to cry. She buries her face in her hands, whispering to herself, “Come on, Y/N… just pick up. Please. I need to know you’re okay.”

Finally, when she feels like she’s on the verge of breaking down completely, her phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with your name. Relief crashes over her, and she nearly fumbles the phone in her haste to answer. “Y/N? Where have you been?” Her voice comes out rushed, thick with all the fear she’s been holding back. “I was so scared—I didn’t know what happened to you.”

On the other end, your voice is warm and apologetic, but it’s the sound she’s been aching to hear. “Baby, I’m so, so sorry. The power went out, and I had no signal. I’ve been trying to reach you, but nothing would go through. I’m so sorry I made you worry.”

Billie’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping the phone tightly as her tears finally spill over. “God, I thought… I thought I lost you or something. I know it’s silly, but I just kept thinking the worst.” She lets out a shaky laugh, trying to collect herself. “I couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I should’ve said to you. Like how much I love you, how you’re my whole world… I don’t know what I’d do if—”

You interrupt her with a soft, gentle reassurance. “Hey, hey, baby, I’m not going anywhere. I love you so much. I promise I’ll never leave you like that.”

Billie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, a relieved smile tugging at her lips as she leans back against the headboard. “Just hearing your voice… it’s like I can finally breathe again. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, okay? I need you safe.”

“I promise, baby. I’ll be extra careful next time,” you say softly, and she can hear the warmth in your voice, the love that mirrors her own. “Now, let’s just stay on the phone for a while, yeah? I don’t want you to feel alone tonight.”

She nods even though you can’t see her, letting herself relax into the comfort of your voice. “Yeah, let’s just stay like this. I’ve got you, and you’ve got me.”

[bobluvbot]

someone you loved

pairing: sirius black x f!reader  summary: your relationship with sirius hurt so much, that the only way forward was to forget. wc: 3k a/n: angst angst angst!!! lots of negative self talk and low self esteem, allusions to a bad childhood (not stated directly), implied emotional abuse & cheating, both sirius and reader are going through it.

snippets of his voice echo in your head like a haunting lullaby that doesn’t seem to end. its funny how the mind is known to block out the traumatic memories, but for some reason, yours kept record of the most painful ones that left his lips.

you’re just too much. 

i can’t love you the way you expect me to.

i’m ending this.

i’m sorry, but i can’t deal with this, with you, anymore.

it keeps repeating like a song once loved, now loathed left on repeat, and a stop button might be somewhere but you can’t bring yourself to turn it off. it reminds you of that habit you secretly developed when you had two large bruises on both your knees after a nasty fall, bone hitting pavement. nothing bled, which was a relief to the new babysitter as no bright band-aids would be blatant proof of her lack of attention on the kid she was supposed to keep watch on. blood kept within the skin, nothing left to do but to watch your body slowly take it back. you were curious of how the color changes each day, the angry reds bleeding into dark purples that resemble galaxies that you’d see on your astronomy books. one day spent examining your bruises again, you pressed on the reddish purple one too hard and tears spring up your eyes when the sting hits. but as it lingered and faded, a strange feeling of satisfaction replaced it, and you felt the urge to press on it again, curious to see if the same unknown feeling makes an appearance again. It does, and the fascination as you play in between the lines of pain and pleasure follows you as you grew up. Curious, you once read up on it from those muggle books, where you learn that the body itself releases pain-killing hormones that help relieve the perception of pain, leading to a temporary feeling of relief. 

you knew thinking about sirius’ words will never not hurt, will continue to bury you in a deepening hole that you have to fight to the nails to crawl out of, but you couldn’t stop. 

It gave deep seated satisfaction to that green monster in the back of your mind, responsible for only seeing the negative in each situation you find yourself in. ‘i told you so,’ it says in a tinny singsong voice, clearly pleased with each iteration of sirius’ words and the raw metal stabbing your heart each time.  

it also serves like a constant reminder of your failure. Failure to love like a decent person, failure to be the person that sirius needed, failure to gauge what was too much that the other person drowned without you knowing, failure to protect yourself and your dignity from being trampled on like nothing, and failure to just simply accept the fact that love just wasn’t made for people like you. 

being friends with lily made you forget a lot of things, fundamental parts that you realized so young. you knew better, should have after everything you’ve gone through, but somehow with her, anything seemed possible, achievable, tangible when you’re a kind person. marlene would always say, doing good things meant you can expect to receive good things back from the universe.

and for the most part it seemed to always work that way. you’d witnessed james nurture the simple appreciation he had on lily’s genuine smile at him that eased his nerves while they were in line to get sorted into houses throughout the years, growing as he’d gotten to know her innate kindness and wit, and finally erupting from him like rays of sunlight until he became brave enough to speak it out loud starting fourth year. 

Even though the marauders had acted questionably during their early years of exploring their pranking abilities, james had always been full of love. Never hesitating to share it to those he truly cared for. it took lily years to accept this, and more to gain courage and let herself experience it. 

by 7th year, you never believed a love could thrive like that whilst cradled with such young hands until you saw james and lily do it effortlessly. 

so what part of this could’ve made you think otherwise? 

were you to blame for believing in that fantasy, that something like this could be attainable for someone like you, too? 

you had always housed deep adoration and awe for sirius black, like many others, despite his wild reputation and scandalous rumors that seem to always follow when his name gets uttered.

why? Because he was once the raven haired boy who slipped the trolley witch a few sickles when he saw you return the pumpkin pasty after realizing you couldn’t afford it. 

it had been a gloomy tuesday. the trolley witch was supposed to go compartment by compartment, but the bumbling first years seemed to miss that memo and started piling up close to the cart to see what was being sold that she had to force them all in a line. you were quiet and unobtrusive as you stood patiently in line; which was nothing compared the boys’ raucous laughters and animated chatter behind you. sirius would’ve accidentally pushed or stepped on you if he didn’t see your figure. the train was loud and so was james’ mouth, so excited to be away from his parents and to have his first official Hogwarts friend, but sirius also stood close enough to you that he could hear your stomach grumbling and see your arms crossed over your midsection. he admitted once that he found the gurgling sounds funny (like an eleven year old would do) but he didn’t have the heart to poke fun at you because he remembered he’d hear the same thing from his own when his parents would send him to bed without eating. 

even before your turn, you were already overwhelmed at the amount of food and candy available, none of which sounds or looks remotely familiar to what you’ve had growing up. your heartbeat picked up when you heard loud sighs, feet tapping impatiently (both James) snorting and shushing (sirius), and just grabbed something that resembled bread, quickly apologizing to the witch that gave you a kind smile. you hadn’t eaten anything as you rushed to pack the mismatched, secondhand supplies that the headmaster had sent you, and you were dropped off to the station just in time before the train left. your fingers trembled in excitement to finally eat and in hunger as you fished out your coin purse. It took a few seconds before it sunk in that you don’t have enough to buy your pasty. How embarassing. 

You swallowed your tears back, willing the hateful voice in your head to keep quiet for a minute or two, just enough time to put back the pasty and run to your deserted compartment, where you could freely go to town beating yourself up for your stupidity. Just quick enough so no one will notice. 

It took three deep breaths before the dam opened, for the tears to run uncontrollably down your cheeks. You couldn’t even wipe it off because your hands were still clutching your stomach, trying to ease the growling, gnawing pain. Pathetic.

The compartment door opened and you didn’t even hear someone clearing their throat, only looking up when a hand dropped three pasties, a chocolate frog, and a bottle of pumpkin juice on your lap. Barely balancing it, you looked up to see who took pity on you, but only caught a glimpse of stark raven hair and alabaster skin.

you’d find him later during sorting, squeezed between three boys that couldn’t seem to shut up about what house they thought the other would go. not used to kindness, much less from a complete stranger, you hesitated approaching him. but fate always had a weird way of showing you it does listen to your wishes once in a while and you found yourself later on, scooting a bit to your left to make space for him on the bench of your shared house. you both exchanged a knowing smile, and you’d always remember him like that. The kind boy who gave you a feast even without knowing who you were. 

you’d remember that boy when the pouring rain had finally soaked through your thick coat as you waited patiently for him at madam puddifoot’s on your first Valentine’s day. Despite the fact that he was already two hours late and the cafe would be closing soon, you chose to wait. 

you’d remember that kind boy when some mean ravenclaw girls in class would pick on you for the most absurd things, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you looked back at him desperately for some reprieve, only for him to avoid your gaze and continue to guffaw at something James said, effectively ignoring your existence. 

You once asked him why. It was embarrassing how quick he figured out what you were really asking. In fact, he knew a lot of things: that he didn’t deserve your love (or anyone’s for that matter), that someone as pure and selfless as you shouldn’t even associate with the likes of him, and that he was aware of every single thing he does that shatters you whole. He knew that he should tread this conversation gently, to not let his claws rip further skin more than he already has, but the Black darkness has its way of slithering out of the deep recesses he tries to bury it in. 

Words leave him exasperatedly, like he’s not spouting words that cut through skin. “I’d been clear to you right from the start, of what I can give you and what I can’t. You knew what you were getting into, Y/N. you put this onto yourself.” 

He storms back into his dorm before he could hear your quiet sobs echo through the empty common room. 

—-

lily knew in the back of her mind that this wasn’t just a simple, silly request now, but more of an obligation to her closest friend. 

it’s been three weeks. three excruciating weeks to be handed and given and filled with so much love she didn’t need to ask for, whilst seeing her best friend chip away with the lack of, like a once-bright porcelain doll that was abandoned and exposed to the direct heat of the sun. 

you had finally gone silent by last week, like a shut door. refusing to eat, go to class, speak—- hell, lily bets, if you could also not breathe by choice, you wouldn’t. It’s like youre keeping everything you once had given to the world thoughtlessly, close. Dorcas thinks you were keeping close to heart the mundane things that make you alive, to remind yourself that you still are. She had said, like air to a balloon. lily cried herself to sleep that night, the thought of losing such a fundamental part of her life, you, inch by inch, day by day, in front of her very eyes was a haunting, damning thought. Something that she and you both thought would come so much more years later, with unsurmountable memories, many glasses of champagne and slices of cake, wrinkles and smile lines, more laughter and loving hugs exchanged. 

she had thought the silence was a welcoming sign of change. A necessary step towards acceptance and moving on. she was relieved when your crying stopped, tremors leaving your fingers, and there was a chance again for the redness to vacate the whites of your eyes. She held hope that she and the girls can start working on instilling your light back, hopeful that a few months from now their star can find its way back to its rightful place in the sky and everything could be okay once again. 

Lily looked forward to nights that were filled by snores and shuffling of sheets, not the unmistakable sound of your feet on the wooden floors, misjudging that everyone was asleep, the muffled creak of the dorm room door opening and closing, and your footsteps fading in the dark. She’d wait fifteen to thirty minutes (the longest was an hour or two on the first night) before she’d hear you return, footsteps still light but she could hear the slight drag in each step, almost as if it was taking so much of your might to even make it to the bed. the quiet whimpers would start, followed by muffled hiccups lily knew only happens when you cry too hard. it took so much of her to exercise self-restraint, to keep herself on her own bed and not lay beside you and hug you as if it’s something that could put you back together. 

She has to turn her back on you even if it felt like raw betrayal. 

Because that one time she didn’t, she couldn’t forget the look of horror, dejection, desperation, and pure unbridled embarrassment on your face when you realized she knew what you were up to late at night. She knew you came up to the boys’ dormitory, crawling into sirius’ bed, where you begged and begged for him to take you back, that you’ll be a better more doting and loving girlfriend this time around, that you won’t be too attached this time and will give him the necessary space and time he needs so he doesn’t feel suffocated, that you’ll be anything, do anything just for him to welcome you back into his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear until your throat was raw, and sirius has to physically take you back to the start of the staircase to your dormitory. 

this happened for days and days on end until the boys had to lock their door at night, or whenever sirius is in. 

james couldn’t meet lily’s eyes when he’d ask for her help to keep you apart from Sirius as it would do you no good. they had gotten into a fight because of this, because lily heard nothing but  ‘stop her from making a fool of herself’ and her best friend is the smartest intuitive empathetic kindest witch she had ever met; the farthest thing from a fool. 

But one day those very words came off your lips with a hollow laugh. “But I am a fool, Lily. No one in their right mind would even do half the things I do.” It would be hypocritical for lily to deny sneaking out at night and crawling into your ex’s bed and begging for him to take you back as something of a desperate fool would do. A girl once had chased and pined for Remus during the entirety of fifth year and the things she did to get his attention were laughable at that time. But she didn’t plan to see the same, even worse, done by her best friend, and she still couldn’t wouldn’t call you a fool.

After all, your only fault was that you loved. And that shouldn’t even be a fault because that’s what she did with James, marlene with dorcas, her father with her mother. even someone as selfish as petunia could find love and be loved right back. 

you of all people deserved to love and be loved right back after everything you’d been through, and james would say the same thing for sirius as well. 

but sirius was a complex person, lily could recite this on top of her head from endless times where you stood your ground, defending sirius’ honor like he’d see your great martyrdom and suddenly consider you once again worthy of his love and affection. Before, she knew of sirius as a friend and James’ brother— but she knew more than what she signed up for because you’d fill in the gaps for her when she’d try to beat some sense into you during the unacceptable treatment you’d accept from sirius. 

You’d say with such confidence “he loves me, he’s just going through a lot right now, especially after that howler his mother sent him a few days ago.”

You didn’t have to elaborate, lily remembered that day vividly, not because of the way sirius’ face fell when the howler began its assault had reminded her so much of how she’d react after getting bitter letters from petunia, but because that same day she saw sirius being manhandled by a hufflepuff, both kiss sick and all over each other, into a secluded broom closet. 

It was years worth of push or pulls, of moral dilemmas that would get the outspoken redhead to choke on her words, and dejectedly sweep them under the rug out of your sight. Because the beaming smile and flushed cheeks you’d sport when Sirius murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, the weight on your shoulders dissipating when tucked in his arms, the jump in your step whenever he’d kiss you on the forehead and wish you good luck for the day— Lily couldn’t bear the thought of robbing you with those moments of bliss, even when it’s all done in private. 

So in an empty classroom on a gloomy Tuesday afternoon, she points her wand at you, fingers trembling and tears trailing down her cheeks, but you don’t see any of these. Instead, your beautiful features wear a serene expression that weakens lily’s knees. Oh how she missed her dearest friend. She’d do anything in the world to get you back, hold your hand, and dance with you in the autumn rain. 

So she does the wand movement like she practiced for days and takes a breath. She pictures you and Sirius happily dancing barefoot during the yule ball, your blushed cheeks when you told her about the feel of his lips on yours for the first time, you on sirius’ shoulders as you carried the quidditch cup, both smiling big as remus snaps a picture from the muggle camera, you drifting off to sleep on sirius’ shoulder while your hands were laced as you rode the train back to hogwarts.

Before mumbling the incantation, obliviate.

[kingkatsuki]

— mean

It’s been so long since I wrote any Kiri I missed him sigh!!

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, Dom!Kirishima, spanking, ruined orgasms (f!receiving), mentioned assplay, fingering, creampie.

Word Count: 0.6k.

No one ever believes you when you tell them that Kirishima Eijirou is mean.

“Oh, he’s so nice.”

“You’re so lucky you’re dating Red Riot.”

“I wish my boyfriend was as nice as him!”

But they don’t realise what he’s really like— not when he’s got you on your hands and knees behind closed doors, smoothing a large palm down your spine as he drives into you with force. His hips bruise your ass with each forward motion as he fucks into you with vigour, your fingers fold into the sheets as you cry out when the blunt head of his cock presses up against your cervix every, single, fucking time.

He’s mean when he asks you if you think you should cum, if you deserve it. Fat tears clump in your thick lashes and blur your vision as you try to respond— it’s like he knows how difficult he makes it as he begins to increase his pace, the crude slap of skin against skin echos in the room as he pushes you forward. His huge, hulking frame practically on top of you as he chases his own end. Because nights like these were for him, not for you.

“Tell me,” He spanks your ass hard, “Tell me if you think you deserve it.”

And it’s all you can do to babble and beg him to let you cum, your cunt clenching pathetically around his cock as he works you towards it regardless of your answer.

“See, I’m not sure you do, sweetheart. Not really.” He disregards you, his balls already seizing as he he gets himself closer and closer to the edge. Using your pliant body for his own needs as he presses the pad of his thumb against your fluttering asshole, “I remember saying only good girls get to cum. Have you been good?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You chant with each thrust of his hips, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your bliss. You were so close now you could feel the dopamine begin to seep into your veins, the pleasure ebbing at your core as you heard your lover howl out behind you.

“Best fuckin’ pussy, I swear!” He grunts as he cums, forgetting everything as pleasure captures his consciousness. Strong hands dig into the plush skin of your hips as he spills white hot ropes of his spunk against your velvety walls, canting his hips to fuck it deeper inside you. Panting as he continues fucking you through his release, intent on getting you there too.

And you think he’s taken pity on you, because you feel yourself falling into bliss. His name spills from your lips as the pleasure hits you like a freight train, and as soon as he feels the telltale tremble of your cunt clamping down around him you’re derailed.

Kirishima pulls his cock from your gaping hole as you cry out in frustration, his thrusts enough to get you to the edge and push you over but it’s not enough. It’s not the same pleasure that usually racks through you as your entire body cries out for relief. Your puffy clit pulses with neglect, an almost painful twinge swirls in your abdomen and you don’t even realise tears are streaming down your cheeks until they soak the sheets beneath you.

“You’re not nice,” You pout, burying your face in the sheets as he grips your hips, “You’re mean.”

“Oh my poor little baby,” Kirishima coos, full of condescention as he thumbs your oversensitive clit, reveling in the way you try to scoot away from him “I’m mean? Was that not enough for you?”

The pleasure barely enough to satiate you as you succumbed to the disappointing climax, the dull throb between your thighs even more evident as your thighs began to tremble.

“I’m not mean,” He coos, “I was doin’ most of the work so I get to cum the hardest, fair is fair right?”

You mewled at that, a needy pathetic whimper pulled from deep in your throat that had Kirishima’s cock kicking in response. His thumb pushes inside your abused hole to feel his warm cum plugging you up, squelching it unkindly as he begins to finger fuck you. Grinning at the pathetic way you start to fuck your self back against him in an attempt to fix your ruined orgasm.

“This pussy’s so fuckin’ greedy ain’t she?” He presses, catching you by surprise as he pulls back to land a harsh smack against your needy cunt, “Show me how much you deserve it, and maybe I’ll let you cum properly this time, babygirl.”

[felibrary]

╭──╯ POUR THE ALCOHOL HEART OUT !

PAIRING: aventurine x reader

SYNOPSIS: they say love comes when you least expect it — does that also apply to former romantic relationships?; alternatively: in which a drunk aventurine gets dumped onto you by his colleagues for you to take care of. 

wordcount: 4.3k (IM CRYING WHAT THE HELL) | content & warnings: consumption of alcohol/drunk aventurine, unestablished relationship (exes), angst if you squint, topaz is referred to here by jelena (her real name), reader is mentioned to wear jewelry, hints/implications of starvation/ed (?)- not eating, insecure!aventurine, kind of rushed and open ending - interpret it however you'd like :-) ; oneshot

tags: @azullumi (hi pookiemon who def wont read this also its 4:20 rn and I'm writing ur note before my synopsis. send help pls)

AUTHORS NOTE: someone praise me for the creative title :p and sorry that this took so long i'm currently experiencing writers block or whatever also just because this is long doesn't mean its good - don't get your hopes up too high 😭 if i said id like this, id be lying. but still that doesn't change the fact that id be crying if this flops..like all of my other recent works..

ding, ding, ding

the shrieking noise of your doorbell invades your ears, ringing continuously. it's annoying — unbearable even, and to worsen things you've been stuck in this predicament for the past 2 minutes now. 

with your head buried in between your fuzzy cushions, you try to drown out the noise thus completely ignoring the way your phone buzzes on the nightstand next to you. 

hopefully, your neighbors won't file a complaint about loud noise against you, but that's a problem for tomorrow. right now you're faced with a worse matter: making those who interrupted your sleep leave. 

do these people not know what a peaceful slumber is? (apparently not when they have the time to pay you a visit during this time.) 

almost as if your prayers were heard, the noise dies down and you sigh in relief. lazily you shift around in your bedsheets to be in a more comfortable position, nuzzling your head into the cool pillows once more.

but just when you think that the people have finally left, the agitating noise starts once again, and you have to stop yourself from letting out an irritated groan.

slowly you roll yourself out of the comfort of your bed. now sitting on the edge of your bed you’re contemplating; dwelling if you should really stand up now and open the door. 

it could be a bunch of strangers, and who knows which danger will encounter you.

you let out a defeated sigh. whatever it may be, it can't be that bad. turning sideways you try to search for your phone, and upon finding it your lips curl up into a small triumphant smile.

your fingers hover over the buttons on the side before pressing a finger onto the power button. upon seeing the bright light you blink a bunch of times, lashes pressing against each other in a repetitive motion to get used to the light first.

(2) missed calls by an unknown caller ID +xxxxxx: mx. [name] please be so kind as to open the door. thank you.  +xxxxxx: it’s urgent, please.  +xxxxxx: would you be so kind as to do us this favor, for his and our sake? 

a bunch of notifications light up on your screen but you decide to ignore them. instead, you use your phone as a flashlight to guide you through the dark of your apartment. 

who in the right mind decides to ring your doorbell at this time? and who in the right mind chooses to open the door despite the possible dangers? (you.)

despite the door serving as a separation between your apartment and the hallway, you can clearly hear two people bickering outside your apartment door.

“..ritas, hold him tighter. you're letting him fall,” the voice belongs to a woman, and she seems to be concerned about someone, that's the most you can tell.

“i am not. it's not that dark to tell that that is clearly your arm which is slipping from his body,” this time a man speaks up. his voice is hoarse and stern as he corrects the woman. 

well, this is going to be fun. you take a deep breath before opening the door, let's just hope for the best.

as you open the door, you're met with two unfamiliar faces. 

amidst the dimly lit hallway stands a woman with white hair and a red streak on her bangs. her eyes look like shards of crystals that have been puzzled together, simply magnificent. 

next to her stands a tall man, his golden eyes are hidden beneath his dark bangs which stick to his forehead, nevertheless, the warm light that radiates from the pair of honey-colored eyes shines through the depths of the night.

and squished in between them is someone else. hanging from above the ceiling there are a few lamps that adorn the hallway. the warm light that they shed lands upon the back of the person's head making their golden hair look like a shiny coin that swims amidst the ocean.

from the clothes and their silhouette, you'd figure that they're a man, however, you can't be sure due to their face being hidden.

so many questions race through your mind, who are these people? do they know what time it is? and what are they doing in front of your door? 

but the only thing you can utter at this moment is a curt and groggy: “sorry, how can i help you?”

an apologetic smile finds its way onto the woman's lips, and this time you're able to take a proper look at her. 

there are dark circles surrounding her colourful eyes and you can only wonder why she's up so late when instead she should be getting well-deserved sleep.

“apologies, how rude of us to not introduce ourselves. you can call me to- jelena. and next to me is doctor veritas ratio,” 

the man she tilts her head towards only nods in acknowledgment which you can only return. “well, it's nice to meet you, jelena and veritas. is there something you need from me?”

both names feel familiar to your ears as if you've heard them once or twice before, although you're not sure where you've heard them.

“and, that in the middle might be who?” your eyes drift over the person whose arms are draped around the backs of topaz and veritas.

“that's exactly why we're here,” hearing veritas’ voice makes you look up in surprise. “we're aventurine’s colleagues and we brought him here for you to take care of him,”

this has to be some sort of dream if not a nightmare at worst.

you're completely awake now, with furrowed eyebrows and an awkward smile on your lips you stare at the person — well aventurine as you now know, in utter disbelief. 

the only thing you're able to choke out at this very moment is a strained. “i’m sorry?” 

“you've heard me the first time, i don't like repeating myself — you're supposed to take care of that guy of a nuisance here.” veritas nudges aventurine’s shoulder to make his point clear. 

your ex and his colleagues standing in front of your door at maybe like two am in the morning had to be some sort of torture-like fever dream. 

“no, with all due respect: no.” you quickly mutter with gritted teeth before trying to slam the door shut as soon as possible. 

jelena, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be a fan of your idea and quickly puts her foot into the space between your door and the hallway as a way to stop you from closing the door.

“i..” she starts, but you notice the heavy side-eye she receives from veritas that makes it known that she's not the only one who's tired of aventurine and his shenanigans, and thus makes jelena quickly correct herself. 

“well, we know that it's unbelievable — unbelievably stupid if you might even say so, but hear us out okay?” she pleads.

she's making it hard for you to say no, so the only thing you can do is lean against your doorframe and listen to her. 

(what other choice do you even have when veritas is shooting burning stares right through you.)

jelena sighs embarrassedly. “aventurine invited us out to drink today, i’ve — no, we have found it suspicious and weird right off the bat, but he insisted and the tab was on him so it would've been rude not to go.” 

“well, our instincts were right because he kept mourning and babbling our ears off about how he'd be drinking this glass of wine with you on your guys' anniversary today instead of this bar,” jelena begins before taking a small pause as if contemplating what to tell you next.

her eyes take the shape of crescent moons and she proceeds to press her lips into a strained smile before continuing. “it was kinda endearing to watch at the beginning but over time it became unbearable,” she murmured more to herself than to you.

you can only try to imagine the scene. aventurine with red-tinted ears and a flushed face babbling about how he misses you. 

great, how dreamy.

veritas coughs to bring the attention to him, snapping you out of your thoughts “well, after that he fell flat onto the counter and we thought that he had suddenly fainted,” he adds. “until he then started whining about how he wanted to go home. so here we are.” 

now you're just confused. now, why is he here again?

“how does home refer to my place now? his place is or at least was much bigger than mine,” you scoff skeptically before realizing that that have might come over as rude. “sorry, i’m just confused and don't see any connections here. also, how'd you know where i live oh, and my number?”

jelena mutters out a small it's fine and veritas only sighs. “so you see, we tried to drive him back to his place but when we arrived he started complaining that he wants to go home — you.” 

“he started pulling out his phone and set your address on the GPS before demanding or well ordering us to drive him to your place,” he lets out an exasperated sigh upon explaining. 

“as for your number, due to his phone still being on we went through his contact list and found you right on top — saved at his emergency contact. endearing, really, ” veritas remarks sarcastically.

you're surprised — pleasantly surprised. aventurine still thinks of you? 

“correction: i was the one who drove.” jelena suddenly objected as she threw veritas a heavy side-eye.

“yes, but it's still us — we were the ones who brought him here and drove together to this place despite you being behind the wheel,  jelena,” veritas scoffs. 

“in whose car did he purge into? correct, mine. my whole car reeks of vomit now,” jelena shudders upon remembering the sight of aventurine throwing up. 

“well yes but that doesn't change the fact tha-” veritas isn't able to finish his sentence, you stop him from doing so. interrupting his complaint with one of your own.

“okay, if bickering is the only thing the both of you came here for, i don't wanna hear it. i’ll take him in, but just for tonight, is that clear?” your offer is simple. you take care of aventurine and they stop their banter so you can continue sleeping. 

it honestly benefits them more than it benefits you. 

“a nice compromise which went easier than i thought.” jelena’s face lightens up with a triumphant smile. “we'll leave him in your care then.” 

they dump aventurine onto you and he slightly topples before landing in your arms, head buried in the crook of your neck and arms tangled over your shoulders.

his warm breath fans over your neck and the close proximity makes you stiffen in place. it's not like you haven't felt this sensation before, but this time it's under different circumstances.

it's not the same as back then.

as soon as they leave aventurine in your care they bid their goodbye and leave. 

aventurine’s flushed cheeks gleam pink in the warm light, his breath tickles the exposed skin on your collarbone which almost makes you drop him.

but your arms cling onto him. grip firm and steady as you claw your hands over his clothed back, steadily holding onto him as if scared that once you lose hold of him, he'll slip out of your grasp (once more.) 

anxiety cowers at you like a child who's lost their parents and is helplessly seeking for them in a crowd of people. 

hand scarily empty as its eyes sway through the sea of people, blurred faces who will never hold one’s hand like your parents once did.

despite meeting several people who could hold your hand, whisper sweet nothings into your ear — love you; teach you what love is.

his hand is the only one you'd wrap yours around, no matter the stains and scars it leaves.

you continue to cling to him — you always did. 

well, this is certainly going to be a fun night to remember.

———————

golden rays of sunshine that beam with warmth seep through the curtains and proceed to bathe aventurine’s lying figure in the warm essence.  

the sensation tickles his skin and he lets out a muffled groan, shutting his eyes several times before eventually indulging in the morning tenderness. slowly (and after many attempts) his lilac eyes are used to the brightness. 

he’d be lying if he said that being engulfed in the luminous light wasn’t overwhelming — especially as someone who’s gotten it taken away early on and has only later been introduced to it once again. 

(although the sparkle that once resided in his eyes was long gone, there was no longer a child whose eyes once glimmered in joy upon being caressed by the sunlight.)   

being embraced by the warmth and its radiating light, he can’t help but feel like a trapped and helpless stage actor. one who despite fleeing and running away, continuously gets followed by the spotlight, thus standing in the limelight and having to perform a show for the people who are seated together in the rows below.

regardless of the people watching him, applauding for him, praising him, he feels utterly empty — empty and alone. 

although there were people to assist him on stage, co-workers around him who offered help which he reluctantly also somewhat relived accepted.

the emptiness that houses within him remains.

(perhaps he has become so accustomed to the feeling of being alone that it has been a while since he’s ever felt lonely.)

as soon as his eyes have adjusted to the brightness of his surroundings, they widen in shock. 

this surely must be a dream, right? he promised himself that he’d never return to this place despite longing to see it you again.

his eyes quickly flicker around the room in confusion. how’d he get here? this wasn’t his room or well it technically was. it’s the room he once shared with you.

it’s no wonder he’s slept this well. 

his once sleepless nights which were haunted by nightmares and resulted in hourless sessions of just staring at his ceiling, eyes trailing after the fan as it spun around in circles until the chirping of the birds outside awakened him, turned into calm nights after moving together with you.

a cloud of nostalgia fogs his mind as he recalls how you never understood why he insisted on moving into your apartment despite his being much bigger. (he supposes his place never gave him that certain sense of belonging that he sought after.)

aventurine’s eyes dart through your room to search for any changes that might have occurred.

the books you always read before going to sleep (sometimes even reading him a snippet of the part where you’re currently at) are still messily stapled on your nightstand. 

he smiles fondly before continuing his search, eyes wandering through the room and halting as he sees all the jewelry he’s bought for you, all tidily arranged on your vanity.

which contrasts with all the sticky notes that are loosely hanging off your mirror and the trinkets he's brought you from other planets that are messily splayed out on your desk.

his pink eyes pause as he catches sight of the chair next to the bed. his clothes that you “borrowed” (he always found it endearing how you walked around in his clothes as if you owned them — not like he minded) once and never gave back even after the breakup, sit neatly folded on the white chair next to your bed. 

everything is kept in place and remains the same as before: the books, the trinkets, the jewelry, and well.

his eyes drift from the chair down to his body. you changed his clothes for him.

the uneasiness that lingers in his chest slightly melts away, slowly and torturously like wax dripping off a candle.

you didn’t throw the things he gifted you away.

aventurine slips out of the covers that were once his, the sheets slightly rustle and leave behind creases as he sits at the edge of your bed. with the amount of force that aventurine uses to press his elbows against his knees it almost feels like daggers piercing into his flesh, and with his head buried between the palms of his hands, he can only laugh — a mocking grin plasters itself on aventurine’s face.

it’s ridiculous, almost pathetic the way he’s relieved. he has no right to feel so after being the one who suggested the breakup. 

he doesn’t even understand how he ended up here. jelena and veritas insisted on bringing him home, so why’s he here? everything from the former night is mushed up and blurry, he doesn’t recall the reason why he was brought here. 

neither does he understand why you offered him a place to stay, he feels like a dirty pup shamelessly returning to its owner after choosing to abandon them.

aventurine sighs before slipping into the pair of clothes that have remained untouched in the past few minutes. the shirt is a bit bigger than expected and the pants hang loosely off his hips but the scent remained the same. from the moment he let you borrow his clothes to now, the present the smell is one he’s all too acquainted with — his own. 

the only thing that he can picture at this moment is his clothes rotting in the depths of your closet, long forgotten as they get engulfed by the scent of your clothes.

his hands are hidden in the pockets of the pair of pants to conceal the way they’re trembling, fingers itching as they anxiously tap against his thigh. 

he’s nothing but a coward. 

he takes a deep breath before getting up, the goosebumps that prickle on his skin, the clenching of his teeth, and the constant urge to just storm out and leave now — they’re all suffocating him. gnawing at his skin like a rabid animal chewing the remaining flesh of a dead body.

as he enters the living room, his coat draped over the chair he’s standing in front of and you are the first things he spots. 

(as if you haven’t occupied his mind the entire time whilst being away from you — there isn’t a single day in his entire life where he doesn’t mourn after people. it’s pathetic, really, the way nostalgia torments him, but he’s a man with nothing on his hands other than the scars of the past. so what other choice does he have?)

you look up from your phone, eyes flickering around the small room before landing on the end of the dining table but aventurine’s eyes are glued to the neatly wrapped flower bouquet lying in the middle of the desk, perfectly lying there on the white table cloth.

nausea bubbles in his stomach. have you already moved on? he shouldn’t care — he’s not supposed to care, but he can’t help it. 

he exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and a wave of relief washes over him, he snaps out of his thoughts and follows your gaze, and only then does he notice the plate of assorted fruits and the bowl of steaming soup, standing on your dining table. 

as if noticing his hesitance you reluctantly speak up. “you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, i won’t force you to,” the smile you give him is somewhat strained and the way your eyes quickly fly down his body doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

his eyes widen in surprise and his immediate response to that is to quickly seat himself on the chair. “no..it’s fine,” aventurine gulps. “no need to check me out either. i’ve always liked your homecooked meals a lot, no?” he chuckles as if trying to throw a joke into the room that’ll lift the tense mood that he’s created.

(he hopes that now his body is at least somehow concealed by the table so you won’t have to stare at him any longer. he’s not worth looking at.)

“thank you for the food,” he mumbles under his breath and if you hear it you don’t acknowledge it. aventurine stares down at the food, contemplating what to do. he picks up the metal spoon lying next to it and dips it into the soup. 

breathe in, breathe out.

breathe in, breathe out.

breathe in, breathe out — you’ll be fine.

aventurine continues to stir the soup inside the bowl, sometimes lifting its contents only to let it droop down into the soup again. “so, mind telling me what happened yesterday?” 

your eyes lock from across the table and you give him a deadpan expression. “you seriously don’t remember?” the little smirk that quirks at your lips is contagious and he can’t help but smile a bit himself.

“well obviously not, when i’m asking,” he remarks back sarcastically. 

he missed bickering with you. it felt so familiar, so nostalgic — so right.

you put your phone down on the table and start explaining. “well to put it short, your colleagues, jelena and veritas if i recall correctly, brought you here because you were drunk since you kept whining about wanting to go home and well considering me as your home.”

oh.

“right and as soon as i brought you into my place you purged all over your clothes and my floor” you quickly add. “but don’t worry i washed it for you, it’s behind you.” 

“ah really? how rude of me,” he utters bashfully. “apologies then, as compensation, i’ll head home now and send some credits to your bank account although perhaps that might not be a good idea. seeing your partner’s ex (the word lies bitter on his tongue) still lurking around in their home and even sending them credits — that’d be shameless of me. apologies.”

you let out a small laugh that slightly lifts the uneasiness that has been resting on his shoulders. “aventurine, what are you even talking about?” although you seem to find fun in this, your voice is filled with confusion.

the metal spoon he has been firmly gripping for the past few minutes sags against the bowl as aventurine points at the flower bouquet sitting on the neat tablecloth. “the flowers,” he murmurs to himself more than to you.

“oh,” you laugh. “i bought them for myself,” you admit sheepishly before getting up to unwrap the bouquet, revealing a beautiful arrangement of colorful flowers.

you quickly scurry into the kitchen to fill up a vase with water before gracefully setting the flowers down into the now with water-filled vase. “they’re pretty, aren’t they?” you admire the flowers with a smile on your face. “very pretty indeed.” aventurine smiles as his gaze is focused on you.

only then as you rearrange the flowers, making sure that they won’t sag over the rim of the vase, he notices the ring you’re wearing. a promise ring.

aventurine blinks a few times to assure himself that he wasn’t dreaming, but he’d recognize this ring everywhere. how could he not when it’s the same ring that adorns his ring finger? 

“is there any particular reason you kept the jewelry i gifted you?” his gaze drifts to the ring that is in full display and which is glowing under your living room light. 

your eyes that were focusing on the flowers just now, suddenly look down to peek at the ring. “well, it’d be a shame to throw it away. it was expensive after all,” you express truthfully.

“but you also kept the sticky notes i wrote for you every morning in your room — you kept everything i gifted you. the pressed flower bookmarks, the shitty handmade bracelet, my clothes — everything,” he notes.

your response is nothing but short. “oh, uh yeah.”

why? he wants to ask but he knows that trying to force an answer out of you is no good, if you don’t want to respond you needn’t.

“i guess i missed having you around. the things you got me served me as a reminder that you're somehow still with me,” despite your admission being no louder than a whisper it clearly reaches aventurine’s ears.

but he’s in no position to tease you — he’s way too stunned for that, as if not being able to believe your words.

he feels like a small child who discovers that the fables and tales adults tell aren’t real, that those were made-up stories with made-up people which he so desperately tries to deny.

“i see,” he mumbles. “yeah,” you nod your head and look away. 

the awkward silence that follows is unbearable — it’s killing him. 

to know that you still think about him, he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t at least the tiniest bit happy but he also knows that it’s ironic and that he shouldn’t feel like this.

as if you’re able to read his mind you snap him out of his thoughts with a mere question. “aventurine, what’s on your mind?”

“you always knew me too well for my own liking,” he chuckles in defeat, and in return, you can only smile.

“but, i suppose, i’m just..relieved?” he admits while staring down at the untouched soup that reflects his pleased expression.

“relieved about what exactly?” you ask curiously, head tilted to the side as you await his response. “relieved that i’m not the only one who thinks of the other,” he smiles, letting out a small sigh when doing so.

“so you were jealous or what?” you jokingly scoff. the smirk on your lips is mischievous, but your eyes deceive you. they’re soft as they stare down at him.

“don’t ask questions to which you already know the answers to.”

END NOTE: as yall can tell i seem to enjoy writing aventurine and alcohol together (ref. wyws & ttol) does the "a" in aventurine atp stand for angst or alcohol...(both) /lh

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[reidmotif]

Not-Friends with Benefits

Summary: Reader and Spencer have been hooking up with no strings attached just fine, until a singular bed threatens to change that.

Prompt: Reader and Spencer are JUST hooking up. Then, one bed. Forced to be more intimate by sleeping together, than actually sleeping together.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Angst (Happy Ending)

Content Warning: Reader POV, friends-with-benefits, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, he picks her up, heavy making-out, unprotected sex, Idiots in Love

Word Count: 7.1k

The first time I met Spencer Reid, I don’t think I really got him. 

It didn’t matter though, because in these moments where my hands are knotted in his hair and he’s pushing me up against the wall, kissing like a man starved, I understood everything about him perfectly. My hands went to wrap around his neck, pressing his body flush against mine. 

“Eager, Reid?” I ask, in between hungry kisses, a smirk lingering on my face. 

“Could say the same about you.” He replies, equally as cocky, his hands sliding to the backs of my thighs in an instant.

I yelped as he picked me up, my legs immediately wrapping around his waist. I could feel a deep kiss being pressed against my lips for my implicit understanding of the action, and registered the movement of his legs working away from the motel door that I had just been at, and towards the cheap bed in the middle of the room. He threw me down, and immediately caged me in between his arms, giving me another fervent, heated kiss. 

If you’d told me six months ago that I was not only sleeping with a coworker, but just sleeping with a coworker, I’d probably laugh in your face. If you’d added on and told me that the coworker I’d made that arrangement with was none other than Spencer Reid, I’d have probably keeled over with laughter. But here I am, being fucked in a cheap motel bed with his face buried in the crook of my shoulder, pressing wet hot kisses over the expanse of my skin. 

And fuck me, was he good at that. 

I could feel my moans reverberating around the room, as he removed himself from his place on my shoulder and placed a hand over my mouth, never once faltering with his deep, hard strokes into me. 

“Mm. Gotta stay quiet, right? Don’t want the team to know how much you like being fucked like a whore.” He taunted, looking at me with those goddamned hazel eyes that drove me insane with lust. 

I attempted to roll my eyes at him to show my displeasure at him for covering my mouth but at a particularly harder thrust than the others, they simply rolled into the back of my head and I screwed my eyes shut at the sensation, hearing him chuckling lowly at my reaction above me. 

“Like that?” He baited, and I could literally hear the smirk in his voice.

I also, however, could feel the twitch of his cock, and his impending release and simply nodded, opening my eyes and giving into his provocations. I was implicitly begging him to go faster and harder with a simple gaze, and thankfully, the genius understood. 

In a few moments, we were both unraveling in each other’s arms, Spencer’s thumb brushing over my clit to guarantee my release before his, and as soon as he caught wind of my shaking thighs and the blissful feeling of my climax around him, he shortly followed after, and I breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar warmth pooling inside my deepest point. 

He pulled out, sweaty and panting, moving to the other side of the bed and lying on his back. “You good?” He asked, as I slowly started to regain some semblance in my post-orgasmic state. 

“Mhm.” I nodded, completely fucked out. I turned over, starting to leave the bed. “I’m gonna go shower.” 

He nodded back, not questioning the lack of spoken word that was being passed between the two of us right after we’d just had sex. 

I hopped into the shitty motel shower, washing away the evidence of what we’d just done. The warm water allowed me to revel in my thoughts for a few minutes, my eyes closing as I felt the droplets hit my skin. 

Spencer and I didn’t have, by any standards, an “ideal” relationship. However, for our particular circumstances, the agreement we’d settled on worked completely fine. Pure sex, nothing else. No talking. No feelings.  Nothing that could lead to something beyond the physical pleasure we shared with each other after a long, hard day at work. 

The first time it’d happened, it was entirely unexpected behavior from the both of us. I’d come to his hotel room in search of a file I’d loaned him for the case we were working on. At this point, Spencer and I weren’t exactly what you’d call close friends, but we weren’t exactly just co-workers either. The trauma of each case presented to us and being subjected to the other for most of our time led to a strange bond of understanding and acceptance of the other. A relationship that was probably incomprehensible to outsiders, but made perfect sense to either of us.

Underneath that, however,  was an underlying tension neither of us could deny. I wasn’t dumb.  We were both young, attractive and single, and I couldn’t lie and say that I hadn’t, on occasion,  imagined his long fingers working relentlessly at my core, bringing me pleasure in a way mine couldn’t. I know he’d most likely fantasized about something in a similar context, given the way he’d stare at me just a split-second longer than he should have when I'd wear a lower-cut blouse, or a short skirt. His actions weren’t unnoticed, and it wasn’t like I didn’t want that either, but I’d always been exceedingly realistic with myself. We were both agents in the FBI, in the same unit. Besides the headaches we’d cause HR if we were to present ourselves as a couple, there were emotional boundaries we’d cross if we were to be romantically involved. Emotional boundaries I was simply uninterested in crossing at all with anyone at all, especially Spencer Reid.

That night I visited his room, it seemed (in retrospect) that both of our inhibitions were low. I watched him dig through his satchel on the floor, attempting to locate the file I’d come there for, and in a moment of weakness, I had watched those damned hands of his again. I couldn’t help it. His fingers were just so, so long. Even if he wasn’t so attractive, I think any person would be eager to have those inside them. Just from a physical standpoint, you know? When he looked up, his gaze caught me off guard and I couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it’d feel to have him at his knees for me. He cocked an eyebrow as he rose from his position, now handing me the file. 

“You okay?” He asked, his arm stretching towards me as I went to intercept the file from him. “You look a bit.. warm.” He said, his voice quipping a bit at the last word. 

Fuck. 

“Fine, you know how these motels are.” I replied quickly, hoping to offer some logical explanation for why I was so flushed, other than the fact I’d just been imagining him fucking me. “Shitty aircon.” I added, hoping to not seem suspicious. 

My body seemed to give me away though, as when I went to meet his outstretched arm, some slip of my finger made it so the contents of the file tumbled out, leaving a mess of papers at our feet. We both instantly sunk to the floor, trying to gather them as quickly as we could. We were both bent at the knees fully focused on collecting the documents, unaware of our proximity until he handed the papers to me. I looked at his hands, then his eyes, and realized our faces were approximately five inches apart. I could see his gaze drift to my lips, then back to my eyes. 

“So, I’ll um. I’ll take the papers.”  I said, my voice almost a whisper, beginning to rise. 

“Yeah, you should.” He said, his voice restrained as we both got up together. 

As he handed the last bit of papers, his fingers brushed over mine and we both felt it. That jolt, that itch, just begging to be relieved. I looked up at him, his figure looming over me, and in an instant, something seemed to pass between us and his mouth was on mine, kissing me with overwhelming passion. I could feel my knees colliding with the foot of the bed as he guided me towards it, feeling him pushing me into the mattress. He’d asked feverishly if I’d wanted this, and I nodded eagerly. 

And that was that, and after we’d finished our act of spontaneity, still panting and breathing heavily, I could feel the regret seeping in. I’d slept with a coworker, friend .. whatever he was, I’d slept with him and couldn’t take that back. Flashes of awkward conversations came to mind, ones filled with ‘what-are-we’s’ and ‘it’s-not-you-it’s-me’ and in my anxious stupor, I blurted out, “I don’t want to be in a relationship with you.” I looked at him a little wide-eyed after my outburst, surprised at myself for saying it like that.  How stupid could I be? It was blunt, stupid, and definitely not something you said right after sex.  I waited for him to call me a cold, heartless bitch, or to yell at me to get out of his room, but to my relief, he didn’t. He agreed. 

“Wait, what?” I asked, unsure if I’d heard him right. 

“I’m not really looking for a relationship either.” He repeated, but then slowly added. “But I’d also be an idiot if I didn’t tell you that was one of the best hookups I’ve ever had.”  He looked at me, expectantly, as if I was meant to understand something from his words alone. 

I narrowed my eyes, biting my lip. “What are you saying?” 

Spencer turned to me, running a hand through his hair, made messy by my incessant pulling on it just a few minutes ago, breathing out.  “I’m saying we’re both detached and clearly want the same thing. An outlet.” He paused, and looked at me.  “And I mean, do you really want this to be a one-time thing?” He tacked on, cracking a bit of a smirk at that final remark. 

“I mean..” I started, then paused. “So, this would be just sex. No feelings on either of our ends, no ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ stuff, just .. sex.” I asked, trying to make sure I understood his intentions perfectly. 

“Yeah.” He replied, nodding. “Just sex. I mean that.” 

 I looked at him, and something passed through us once again, but this time it wasn’t lust. It was the unstated trust that we held between each other, that neither of us was going to violate the other’s wishes, and this was truly what the both of us wanted from the other. I nodded wordlessly, agreeing, and he cracked a stupid, boyish smile. 

“Really? You’re actually agreeing to this?” He said, incredulously. 

“What, you want me to fight you on it and leave?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You make a good point. There’s no use in denying ourselves a good time, especially if we’re so clear in what we want.” I said, reiterating what he’d said to me. 

“Alright then.” He said, nodding slowly. “In that case, and I hope you don’t take offense to this. You should probably leave my room before-” 

I was already getting off the bed, grabbing my clothes and flashing him a soft smirk to let him know that not only did I get the message, I was already planning on doing so long before he even opened his mouth. 

“Don’t worry. I know.” I said, slipping on my shorts and t-shirt that I’d previously been wearing. “There are rules to what we’re doing, and I think sleeping in the same bed would definitely violate those.” 

“Glad you understand.” Spencer replied, watching me from his place in the room. He awkwardly called out as I started to leave.  “So, uh. Take care?” 

I laughed at that. It was clear he had no idea what to say, and I opted to give him some grace in my reply.  “Yeah. Sure. You too.” I said, before cautiously approaching the door of his room, checking the hallway for any of our team members, and slipped out quietly without another word to him and into my own bed, the aforementioned file being forgotten as I fell asleep in my hotel room alone, feeling more than okay with the terms we’d come to.

We’d continued this regimen with no problem for the six months following that initial encounter. If there was one thing Reid and I excelled at (besides the sex), it was following the rules. We were careful to never cross any lines with each other. No innocent, lazy makeouts in hotel rooms, no whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, no longing stares or subtle brushes when we were with the team, nothing that could break the bubble between us that could lead into any possible intimacy at all. This is what we wanted, and we made that abundantly clear to each other through our actions, or more accurately, our inactions with each other. 

Our ritual, however, seemed to be put on halt when Hotch came into the lobby of the motel we were staying at for a case, addressing our team as one. 

“It looks like this place is mostly booked, so we’re going to need a few of you to double up.” Hotch announced to the team.

I internally groaned, realizing that if everyone was paired up, there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to sneak to Spencer’s room, or vice versa. Whatever. I can go a night without sex from him. Derek and Hotch were an obvious choice when it came to sharing a room. The two of them were surprisingly neat, considering they packed lightly. Emily and JJ too. They’d been friends for much longer than I’d ever even been on the team, and it didn’t surprise me that they’d choose to room together. Everyone paired off quietly, leaving Rossi, myself, and Spencer. Rossi shot a look at the two of us, and shot me a particularly apologetic one. 

“I don’t mind you all that much, but I’m drawing the line at sleeping with the kid.” Rossi said, with an air of finality in his tone, indicating he’d end up being the one to get the one solo room amongst us. 

I gave a look to Spencer, shrugging. To the rest of our team, our bond seemed as normal as it could be. I never treated him differently than I did any of them, and even in a room full of skilled profilers, I doubt any of them could sense that it didn’t even cross my mind that Spencer and I could end up sharing a room. It already felt intimate. More intimate than I wanted. We had a strict rule about not falling asleep together in the same bed after sex, and even if there were going to be separate beds in our motel room, the idea of being able to watch him sleep, hear him breathe five feet away from me triggered a strange sensation at the pit of my stomach, something I could only chalk up to a bout of nerves since I was unsure on how to navigate the situation. 

As we approached the door, the two of us were a little stiff. I could tell he was probably thinking the same thing as me. I stopped right in front of the door, turning to look at him, and realized I’d gravely misjudged the distance we’d been walking apart, as my sudden halt nearly caused him to collide with me. 

“Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard there.” I said, quickly, placing my hands palm-up against my chest to avoid a head-on collision. He nearly tripped, but balanced himself before shooting me a confused look, wondering why we’d stopped just in front of the door. “I just..” I started to speak, and then paused, wondering how to phrase this. Meaningless hookups are what we excelled at. It was natural, it was easy- but somehow the idea of us sharing a hotel room just felt a bit .. much to me. I wanted to somehow abridge the idea of us maybe not having sex that night, but before I could even formulate my words, he interrupted me. 

“Look, (Y/N), it’s been a long day. How about we just go to bed tonight?” He said, looking right into my eyes, making the intentions behind his words incredibly clear. It’s like he’d read my mind, and I suppose in a way he had. We’d become so attuned to each other’s needs in the months we’d been having sex, a natural byproduct of how our time together was spent, and I think he could tell I was already nervous about the situation we’d found ourselves in. 

I nodded, gently. “Yeah. My thoughts exactly.” I gave him a small, reserved smile before taking my keycard and swiping it against the door. I  walked into the room, only to knit my brows in confusion at the sight laid out in front of me. 

“Aren’t there supposed to be two beds?” I asked, moving deeper into the room to look for the aforementioned second bed, instead of the singular king that stared us right in the face. 

He looked equally as confused, running a hand through his pretty curls. He instantly saw my discomfort, reading me like a book.  “Hey, look. It’s okay, I can take the floor.” He said, already starting to move away from the bed to look for a way to make a make-shift bed on the floor. 

I looked at him, rolling my eyes. “Reid, you have a bad knee. I should take the floor.” I reply, trying to get in his way, while flashing him a look of incredulousness, as if the idea of him taking the floor was absolutely ridiculous. 

He flashed me a similar look, shooting back his own response.  “Well, you can’t sleep unless it’s on a bed.” 

I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know that?” I shot back, a bit confused how he knew that about me. He shrugged, looking at me as if it was the simplest thing to figure out. 

“You never sleep on the jet, like ever. Or the breakroom, or at your desk.” He says, looking at me. “Even if you’ve been up an unreasonable amount of time. I suspect it’s because you pretty much exclusively fall asleep in beds.” He finished off, looking a little too smug for his own good. “Am I right?”

I sigh. Profilers could be so fucking annoying sometimes. “Yeah, you are, but it isn’t a big deal.” I say, biting my lip. “We both can’t sleep on the same bed.” I reasoned, looking at him. 

He looks at me, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean..”

I immediately shook my head, crossing my arms. “Spencer, no.” 

He takes a breath. “We’re not having sex tonight.” He points out, reminding us that we weren’t technically breaking any of our rules by sleeping in the same bed tonight. “And we both know each other well. We’re both too stubborn to let the other sleep on the floor.” 

I pondered his words, knowing he was right. And his reasoning was sound too. And God, it was late and I could feel myself already drifting towards the king-sized bed that beckoned me towards it. 

“It is a big bed..” I reasoned out loud. 

“Exactly.” He said, nodding. He yawned, and the exhaustion was clear as day. “It’s been a long day and I’m ready to just crash, aren’t you?”  His voice clearly marked with the same tiredness I was feeling at that moment. 

I nod, already moving to my go-bag to change into something more comfortable. I suppose this was one perk of sleeping with Spencer Reid, I really didn’t  care if he saw me changing. The man had gone down on me more times I could count, I think the sight of my bra was probably one of the more tame things we’d end up sharing between us. He was about the same, unbuttoning his dress shirt in favor of a plain cotton t-shirt with no regard for what I’d see whilst he changed. We both naturally went to our own respective sides of the bed, looking up at each other before beginning to climb in. 

“So, I’ll see you in the morning?” He asks, beginning to pull the covers over his body. 

I nod. “Yeah. I’ll see you in the morning.” I pause, before playfully adding, “stay on your side.” I flashed him a small smirk, which he returned with a coy, “Do you even have to ask?” 

I smiled at that, finding myself rolling my eyes fondly at him. “Night, Reid.” I say, turning my back away from him. 

“Sleep well, (Y/N).” He replies, shutting the room’s lamp, enveloping us with darkness and the way his final words hung in the air between us. I kept my eyes open for a moment, and couldn’t hear anything besides the sound of him breathing less than two feet away from me. His breathing was rhythmic and soothing. I don’t think I’d ever realized it up until this moment, but Reid’s presence simply had a way of making me feel safe, even outside of the context of having sex. He was always so good at responding to my sexual needs, that even in a situation that wasn’t related to that, some subconscious feeling inside of me reassured me that he’d keep me protected. The thought provided me a feeling of comfort and dread all at once, knowing that even just sharing a bed was somehow becoming more intimate than us having sex ever was. I shook my head, almost hoping to erase the thought from my head altogether. I closed my eyes more definitively, and slowly, I fell asleep to the sound of Reid’s light breathing, the sound lulling me to sleep like the sweetest lullaby. 

When I groggily came to in the morning, I quickly realized I was in an entirely different position that the one I’d fallen asleep in. When I’d closed my eyes, I was on the far-right side of the bed, curled away from Spencer, making sure to obey my own sentiment of staying on our respective sides. However, as of right now I found myself nestled into the man’s chest, an earthy and light musk permeating from him. My legs were entangled with his, and his arm had somehow found its way to lazily drape across my waist. My shirt had ridden up in the night, and his fingers touched the expanse of my bare skin, providing a warmth I never knew I could receive from him. 

I slowly moved away from him, careful not to disturb his sleeping figure so that our faces were an inch or two apart, and from this angle I could take in every pretty feature on his face. I watched the way his chest rose up and down in his sleep, and the straight peak of his nose. The way his eyelashes fanned out when his eyes were closed. His face looked softer when he slept, an entirely different sight than I was used to when it came to him. My memories of Spencer were filled with passion and lust, and until now I believed that was all he could make me feel. But at this moment? I could only recall the absolute tenderness in my heart, and the sensation of fondness blooming all throughout me for this man. 

I felt myself focusing on his lips, the way they parted in his sleep. They were a light shade of pink, and had a certain plumpness to them I’d never really noticed. When we kissed in the past, it was heated and rushed. Right now, though, I wanted to lazily kiss every inch of the skin, reveling in the slow movement of his lips against mine. I was so lost in my own fantasy, looking at his lips, that I didn’t even notice when the man stirred, until I saw the slight curve of a smile, causing me to look up at his eyes, which had been watching me for God knows how long. 

“Good morning.” He murmured, his voice deep from just waking up. 

God, did his morning voice have to be so attractive? 

“Reid!” I said, attempting to move away, but his hand that had been lazily draped over my waist gripped me a bit more firmly. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “Good morning. Um. How long have you been up?” I ask, biting my lip a bit nervously as I felt a blush creeping over my cheeks. 

“Long enough to know you make it a habit to stare at sleeping men you share beds with.” He says, his voice light, a small chuckle in his tone. 

I squeezed my eyes, visibly embarrassed. “Sorry, I woke up and realized we were in.. this position, and I didn’t know how to move without waking you up. I must’ve gotten in my own head.” I said, using a combination of half-truths to hopefully sound as convincing as possible. 

He watched me, his hazel eyes scanning over my face, and I could feel myself getting smaller under his gaze. 

“It’s alright.” He slowly responded, as if not to scare me. “I don’t mind someone watching me if it’s you.”  His free hand rubbed circles on my exposed waist, sending a chill up my spine. I took in his words. Nothing about our position was sexual, but somehow his innocent touch resonated on a deeper level than any physical intimacy we'd shared before. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, nodding. 

“I’m still sorry.” I responded, my voice just above a whisper.

“Don’t be.” He said in return, his gaze a little more gentle now. 

I watched him watch me, and could feel that little voice screaming at me to just move away. But I couldn’t. That familiar bloom of fondness came upon me, and I realized in this moment I was feeling a lot more than lust for this man, and it terrified me. I gave a straight smile, realizing if I didn’t move this instant, I was going to give into my desires and kiss him in a way I swore I never would. If I didn’t move, I’d kiss him like I’d loved him from the start. And in a war between my heart and head, I made the decision to firmly move away, moving his hand off my waist and rising from the bed. 

“I’ll see you with the rest of the team.” I say, quickly. He looked a bit surprised by my sudden movement, trying to grab my hand before I could leave and sat up in bed. 

“(Y/N), wait.” 

I stopped, allowing his hand to envelop my mine,  attempting to ignore the feeling of how wonderful it felt to just hold his hand like this. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to seem as normal as I could. 

“We’re..” He paused, and then narrowed his eyes. “We’re good, right?” He said, looking at me carefully. 

I responded almost immediately. “Yeah, of course we are.”  I said the words as confidently as I could manage, because, no, we were not good. I was starting to catch feelings for the coworker I’d been hooking up with for the past six months, of course I wasn’t okay. This was against every rule, every boundary I’d set for myself, and I could feel the panic seeping in. “Nothing’s changed.” I add, to assure him. 

He let go of my hand as I said that. “Right.” He responded, a little more detached this time before quirking his mouth up. “I guess I’ll see you with the rest of the team.” He said, mirroring my words. 

I nodded, biting my lip, before turning around to grab my clothes for that day, getting ready as quickly as I could manage, leaving Reid in the room without even saying goodbye. 

That entire day, I could feel Reid’s eyes on me, and I’d be a hypocrite if I said I didn’t stare at him when he wasn’t looking. I couldn’t stop replaying the events of the morning. For a moment, I could almost imagine his gaze mirroring the same fondness I’d felt for him, but I’d quickly try to rid myself of those thoughts. Not only was it delusional to imagine Reid actually gaining feelings for me after all this time, it was even more deranged to imagine a universe where we’d work as a couple. I’d always prided myself on being exceedingly pragmatic, so why was I imagining a reality where I could wake up next to Spencer Reid everyday? 

Throughout the day, I found myself increasingly frustrated about my situation with Spencer. The case we were working on required quite a bit of collaboration and desk-work, and I found myself flitting between my team members, exchanging information and files, and coming into contact with Reid more times than I’d hoped for that day. Every time I spoke to him, I could feel my heart in my throat, struggling to make eye contact for more than 3 seconds without deteriorating into a blush. I’d been fucking this man for six months, and this, this is what ruins me? 

It’s not like Spencer made it any easier. His gaze was laser-focused on me, almost purposely brushing our fingers together when we’d exchange files. We were breaking every rule we’d set for ourselves, and with every glance and touch, I felt myself yearning for something I knew I could never have. And it was driving me fucking crazy. 

It wasn’t until much later, where the team was wrapping up for the night, where I’d finally had enough. I had been reviewing the last of the files necessary for our case,  when Reid strided over to where I was. I didn’t turn back, but I could feel him watching me. Slowly, I could feel him creep over, to the point where my back was nearly flush to his chest. He leaned over, his warm breath tickling my neck as he said, “I’m heading to the room.” That damned voice of his. I took a breath, and could feel myself getting antsy. Had I always been this hyper aware of Spencer’s presence? Had we always been like this, and I’d never even realized it? 

I gritted out a curt response, “Fine.”

I knew it was unfair. I knew he wasn’t privy to what I was thinking or what I was feeling, but a small part of me couldn’t help but blame him. It was childish, but I’d said it anyway. He heard it and stepped away, knitting his eyebrows.  

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, retracting his position to be slightly away from me, but close enough that no one else could hear. 

“Not here. Not now.” I said, holding back any visible emotion on my face. 

He nodded, and ran a hand through his hair nodding. We packed our things and walked together to the hotel room, silent. He opened the door for me and I walked in, turning to him as he closed the door. 

“What.. what are you doing?” I ask, crossing my arms. “This.. you’re being weird!” I exclaim.

“I’m being weird?” Spencer asks, dumbfounded, whilst raising an eyebrow at me. “You wanna talk about ‘weird’, (Y/N)?” He says, using air quotes. “You’re the one that left like that this morning- and you were lying to me!” He says, raising his voice, especially at the last part. 

I felt a muscle in my jaw twitch as he said that, and I spoke, trying to cover up my deceivement from earlier that day. “What? No- I wasn’t lying-” 

He interrupted me. “(Y/N). I know you. I. Know. You.” He says, pointing at my chest and emphasizing each word. He continued, looking right into my eyes. “That means I know when you’re lying to me.” He asserted, challenging me as he stepped closer. 

I took a step back. He took a step closer. 

“You know what, Spencer.” I say, trying to manage a tone of finality, while creating as much space between us by raising my hands in between us. “I’ll take the floor tonight.” I swallowed a bit, looking for an opening I could use to move away from this situation, to end it before we got messy. Instead, he stood firm as I was left watching his face morph into one of confusion and hurt. 

“Stop doing that!” He exclaims. “Stop.. stop pretending! I see the way you look at me!” He exclaims, seemingly getting defensive. 

I furrowed my brows. He was not about to pretend he was guiltless in the situation we’d found ourselves in. 

“And I see the way you look at me!” I yell back, not backing down. “So, what’s your point?” 

“God, you just never get it, do you?!” He bursts out, and I can’t even begin to discern the expression on his face. He looked wild, running his hands through his hair once more. 

“What don’t I get, Reid?!” I reply, breathing harder now as my voice rises, and I get closer to him. “Is this too much for you?!” I say, knitting my brows. “Do you want to stop, is that what you’re saying? Because I’ll have you know I am more than okay with shutting this thing we have-” 

Before I can finish my sentence, he grabs my face with both hands, pulling me towards him and pressing me into a knee-weakening kiss. But instead of being heated and rushed, it’s sweet. It’s languid. Like we had all the time in the world to kiss like this. His lips moved slowly against mine, savoring it in a way I knew he never had before. He pulled away slowly, his lips red, and his hands still firmly on either side of my face. 

“I don’t want to stop.” He says, breathless. “I don’t wanna get rid of a good thing just because we’re scared.” 

I looked at him, my face riddled with confusion as he looked at me, and I could finally see the fondness I’d felt that morning reflected in his expression at that moment. 

“But we said-” I began. 

“I don’t care what we said.” He shoots back. “And I don’t think you really care either.” He adds on, softly. “I think you’re scared of being hurt, and I won’t pretend like I wasn’t either.” 

My eyebrows scrunch as I look up at him, breathing out through my nose. “Why now then?” I ask, softly, my lips parting slightly. “What changed?” 

He sighed, caressing the smooth skin of my cheek, smiling slightly at me. “I’ve felt it before.” He murmurs. “When I see you work, when I see you laugh.”  He takes a breath. “But I think I felt it the most when I woke up and watched you watching me.”

 He gently lifts my chin, and I look up at him with possibly the most love-struck gaze I’d ever managed in my life. He continued, looking into my eyes. “And at that point, I couldn’t ignore it. I don’t want to go another second pretending what I feel for you isn’t real, or something we need to bury.” He fixed his eyes on me, looking at me with a new tenderness. 

I look up at him, biting my lip, holding back a smile. He sees the joy in my eyes, and I can tell he’s doing the same.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, his voice a whisper. 

I nod, already moving towards him. 

And he’s there again, kissing me slowly and affectionately, his hands wrapping into my hair, and pulling him closer to me. My hands wrapped around his neck, and I kissed him back in the same leisurely fashion. I could see lifetimes ahead of us. Lifetimes of happiness, of kisses like these, where we could take our time because for once, we had it. 

He guided me gently to the bed, and placed himself over me. It felt so different from all the times we’d shared our lust together. It felt like we were starting something entirely new. He kissed my lips, then my cheek, and then my neck. He knew my body as well as his own, finding the spot right below my ear that consistently made me moan his name. He grinned as he heard the noise escape my parted lips, rising to move the hair out of my face. He kissed my lips again, mumbling against them. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He says, leaning closer and I smile softly at the words.

 I bring him down for another kiss, and this time around, he’s slowly removing the buttons off my work shirt. With every button he removes, he kisses the newly exposed skin. I can feel his lips tickling the swell of my breasts, my sternum, and my stomach, eventually removing all the buttons and shrugging off the shirt. He then goes back all the way to kiss every place his lips hadn’t touched, and then some. It felt like an act of worship, of devotion. As if he was remembering me all over again, as if he couldn’t get enough of it.

He undid the buttons of my jeans, whispering sweet nothings all the way, and a pleasurable sigh escaped my lips, feeling his lips trail near my inner thigh. He pulled down my underwear, taking a breath in as he saw the glistening folds. He situated himself between my thighs, looking up at me. 

“Can I?” He asked, clearly eager. I found it adorable he asked, as if he could sense the newness in what we were doing as well. I nodded, and brought my free hand to his curls, the other laying on the sheets. I could feel his smile as he brought himself closer to my heat, and gave a long lap of his tongue against me. I moaned out at the feeling, and it seemed to spur him on. He hooked his hands beneath my thighs, and began to delve into the hot flesh like a man starved. I breathed out his name like a prayer. His tongue darted out and licked harshly against my clit, and I could feel myself devolving. Even in this moment of vulnerability, I trusted him enough to fall apart, knowing he’d put me back together, and that’s exactly what I did. With another movement of his tongue, I reached my peak, moaning his name as  my thighs nearly closed around his head, his strong arms holding me open. 

He smiled breathlessly, my arousal coating his chin as he leaned over to kiss me one more time. As he did so, I moved my arms to start undoing his belt, and to free his cock from his briefs, the tip already leaking pre-cum. I guided him to my wet heat, pushing him in slowly. I moaned at the fullness and could feel myself enter a stage of total bliss.

He began to thrust into me, slowly at first, but increased the pace. He cupped my cheek, jutting his hips against me like a man possessed. 

“You feel so fucking good around me, you know that?” He cooed,  looking down at me. “So perfect for me. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” 

I smiled, dazed at the words, feeling myself rapidly approach my peak as he pounded into me, and I could feel the same for him. I opened my eyes, looking up at him with an expression that was full of lust and love all at once. “You’re all… I ever wanted .. too'' I moaned, feeling him start to go even faster at my words. 

“Yeah?” He said, grinning again. “Then take it. Take everything I’m giving you.” He moved his fingers to begin circling around my clit, and moments later I was falling apart all over again. I came with a loud moan of his name, convulsing as he continued to thrust into me. 

“Just like that, pretty girl.” He said, smirking. “Come all over my cock.” 

I moaned at his words, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt him move faster against me, bottoming out inside me before I felt the stuttering of his own hips, followed by a warmth at my deepest point. He moaned at the feeling,  pulling out afterwards and leaving me so empty. The feeling didn’t last long though, as he moved over next to me on the bed, pulling me close and kissing my forehead. 

“You’re so amazing, you know that?” Spencer says, stroking my hair. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head whispering, “You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” 

I knew at that moment he wasn’t talking about the sex. We’d done that before. But this? This was different, and it was god-awful terrifying, but I think I could forget about the fear when Spencer was playing with my hair, treating me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever touched in his entire life. I nestled into his arms, allowing the warmth to envelope me. 

“You know you have to get up soon, right?” Reid muses, playfully.  “Peeing after sex, and all that.” 

“I know.” I murmur into the bare skin of his chest, sighing. “Just let me stay here a little longer.” I say, hoping he’d give in and just let me relax on him. 

“Mm.” He replies, and I could feel the vibration of his lips from where I was. “There are some words I never thought I’d hear from you.” He answered, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.

I playfully hit his shoulder, laughing as I pretended to move away in mock offense, but he wouldn’t even allow that, pulling me even closer.

“Stay.” He whispers. “You feel nice.” And so I did, pressing myself against him and breathing in his scent. 

He felt like a new person to me, and even now, I was absolutely insatiable for him. It’d never felt like this before, to feel so safe and loved for. We’d done that. We’d created that love for each other. 

I recalled a quote I’d seen a lifetime ago, smiling at my own thoughts.

“Do all lovers feel like they’re inventing something?” 

With Spencer, I think I truly was. 

aa! second fic. this one was long. i hope you all liked it. reblogs, likes, comments are all gladly accepted. my reqs are also open so! go nuts. thank you for reading :3

[rafeandonlyrafe]

three: barry

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, bi!rafe and bi!barry, established thruple, threesome, cock warming, dom!rafe, sub!reader and sub!barry, male receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, male on male action!!!, edging, cum play?

“r-rafe.” you mumble out, pressing your face further forward. “please.” 

rafe ignores your pleas, eyes focused on the football game playing on the television, occasionally eating one of the chips that was dumped into a bowl on the coffee table for all three of you to enjoy.

“i- shit.” barry curses, his dick twitching inside of you, causing you to cry out and push your face further into barrys shoulder, trying to muffle your noise, knowing rafe wants you silent.

“told you not to move.” rafe doesn't even glance over at the two of you, both stripped completely naked, barrys cock buried in your cunt while you sit on his lap, bound to listen to rafes command that he set as your punishment.

“should have just been good.” rafe finally glances over to you. “you're always my good girl.” he tsks.

it's true, whenever you get in any trouble, it's always barrys fault. just like earlier today when he dragged you into the bedroom when rafe specifically told both of you not to do anything until he got home.

“‘m really sorry rafey.” you pout, attempting to bat your eyelashes at him, hoping it would work, but rafe knows better than to look at you and break, snapping his eyes back to the tv.

“shit, how are you still so fucking tight.” barry groans, his hands gripping your hips so hard you know you'll bruise. “even having both of us fuck you, you're still squeezing-shit.”

barry curses again as he twitches, hips involuntarily moving slightly upwards. you cry out, knowing you should hold in your moan but unable to help it.

the sound reaches you before the pain does, rafe reaching over to land a hard spanking on your ass, a warning not to move again.

“it was barrys fault, please!” you whine to rafe, a red palm mark already visible on your ass. it was barry who drug you into the bedroom and shoved his tongue into your cunt, it was him who caused you to scream out and alert rafe.

“yet you were the one getting eaten out.” rafe points out. he knows you wouldn't disobey him, that it was barry who was planning to have you bounce on his dick next, but rafe likes getting to punish you, and even more getting to use you to punish barry.

“im so sorry rafey, ill never be bad again, i wanna be your good girl.”

“oh baby.” rafe finally looks over to you, running his thumb down your cheek. “i know. why don't you wait until the game is done, then your punishment can be over?”

“mkay.” you nod. “love you.” you glance behind your back, mouth gaping when you realize the game only just resumed after half time, and you have possibly hours of punishment left, sitting stuck on barrys cock without moving.

“anything you want to say to me barry?” rafe asks, tilting his head to the side.

“nah, man.” 

it's an interesting dynamic, both rafe and barry being obsessed with you, and infatuated with each other, but each being strong willed.

“okay, no cumming for you then.” rafe just shrugs, leaning over to give you a chaste kiss. “my good girl will get to when im done watching the game.”

“fine!” barry groans. “im fucking sorry. next time we'll wait for you.” 

“that's what i thought.” rafe smirks, turning back to watch the game. 

you bury your head back in barrys shoulder, trying to think of anything to distract yourself from focusing on his length buried inside you, on your pulsing clit just begging to be touched.

you listen to the sounds of the commentators, letting out a sigh of relief every time they say how much time is left in the game, as difficult as it is to remain still, you know rafe will make it all worth it.

“come here, pretty.” rafe pats your thigh. you blink your eyes open, letting out a sigh of relief.

rafe works his pants open, tugging them down enough to pull his cock out. you have to move slowly off of barrys cock, legs having cramped up and fallen asleep in that one position.

“you can just watch.” rafe says to barry as you switch to his lap, letting out a shudder when rafe touches you, even just his hand resting against your waist has you feeling close to the edge.

“ride me. make yourself cum.” rafe says. you waste no time lining up with his cock and sinking down, letting out a moan in relief. rafe helps you bounce up and down, doing most of the work lifting you by your hips and bringing you back down.

“so big, rafey.” you cry out, walls being stretched more than barry, both of them being around the same length but rafe has more thickness to his cock.

“such a good girl for me, come here.” rafe tugs you forward, your lips landing on his in a heated kiss, hands moving all over his chest, wishing it wasn't covered by the football jersey he put on for the game.

“‘m so sorry rafey promise ill be good for you forever and ever.” you glance over to barry, hands clenched and sitting on his thighs as his eyes are watching your cunt move up and down rafes cock, barrys dick hard and red, waiting impatiently to be relieved.

“i know baby.” rafe coos. he takes one hand off his own chest and moves it to your clit. you let out a squeal of relief, rubbing your fingers lower to gather some of your slick before moving back up to your clit.

“get yourself off, baby, come on.” rafe encourages you, pushing you down harder onto his cock with every movement, trying his best not to thrust his hips up into you, wanting you to do the work as a final punishment, even if it is his hands on your hips guiding most of your motions.

“barry doesnt get to cum until you do, you're making him wait so long baby.” rafe glances over at barry, an uncomfortable look on his face.

“come here.” rafe cocks his head to barry, who quickly moves closer on the couch.

“suck her tits, make her get off faster.” rafe says. barry moves to his knees, having to move his head up and down to follow your chest as you ride rafe, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking it into his mouth.

“that's good, barry.” rafe moans as you clench around him, your fingers moving faster on your clit.

“close.” you warn, barrys tongue flicking over your nipple, hand moving around your back to round your chest and play with the other one.

“cum for me.” rafe commands, pushing your hips all the way down as your back arches, rubbing yourself quickly to orgasm, your high rushing through your body, causing you to squeal out.

barry pulls away, hand twitching to grip his cock while you fall forward into rafes chest. he gives you a brief moment to relax, to let your cunt slow down it's intense pulsing around his length.

“thank you.” you gasp out, picking your head up to look at rafe. “thank you.”

“you're welcome pretty.” rafe smiles, picking your hips up to get you off his cock like you weigh nothing, setting your sloppy cunt on his thigh. “now why don't you and barry suck me off?”

rafe spreads his thighs while you both move to kneel in front of the couch, barry immediately leaning in to lick a stripe of your pussy juices off rafes cock.

you let barry focus on his length, moving up to suckle on the head of his cock while you kiss over rafes balls, knowing how much he likes when you both focus on him at the same time.

“touch him, y/n.” rafe says. “but barry, you don't get to cum until i do.”

you nod, wrapping your hand around barrys length. for his own sake, you keep your strokes unhurried and steady, not slow enough to piss off rafe, but enough to hopefully make barry last.

you glide your lips up rafes cock, tasting yourself on his dick as you meet barrys mouth at the lead of rafes cock, tongues meeting as you kiss over his tip.

“fuck.” rafe groans, hips twitching up slightly as he sees you making out with each other as well as sucking him off.

you switch places, barry moving down rafes cock to his balls while you swallow around his length, doing your best to deep throat him while keeping your hand stroking over barrys cock.

“so good for me.” rafe hums, hands coming to both of your hairs, barrys now cropped short but still long enough for rafe to grip, while yours is tied back in a ponytail.

you bob your head, ignoring your gag reflex the best you can, tears falling down your cheeks. you last as long as you can until you have to pull off and take in a large gulp of air.

“show her how it's done, barry.” rafe tugs on his hair, pulling him up to take rafes cock in his mouth next. rafe wastes no time pushing him all the way down, knowing how good barry can take his dick.

“close.” rafe warns, looking to you. you nod, not even needing him to use his words as you sink to your stomach on the floor, sucking barrys cock into your mouth.

you wait to hear the moans and grunts that signal rafes orgasm as he shoots deep into barrys throat to really suck at his cock, one of barrys hands moving off rafes thigh to keep your head down as he fills your mouth with cum, barely needing any stimulation after being teased for so long.

you pull off and move back to your knees, opening your mouth up to show barrys cum sitting on your tongue.

“such a good girl.” rafe leans forward, shoving his tongue into your mouth in a messy kiss, sharing barrys cum and each other's spit.

“love you.” you coo to rafe, swallowing barrys cum before leaning to him. “love you too.”

barry nods, his face slackened eyes closed, clearly too exhausted to say anything.

“and i love you both too.” rafe says, petting his hand over your hair. “why don't we get both of you in the bath then we can cuddle in bed?”

“mmm.” you nod. “sounds good.” you trail your fingers up rafes thigh, jealous that you didn't get to taste any of his cum. “as long as i can suck you off in the bath.”

barry perks up at that, his eyes opening as rafe laughs. “god, you two are such sluts.”

“your sluts.” you remind rafe.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @die4niyahhh

[soulofapatrick]

Nothing Changes - Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: You wake the next morning to an empty bed and panic

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: None; fluffy

Notes: I'm really sorry for writing so much Hotch, I'm rewatching criminal minds and all these story ideas for him have been on my mind

Waking up to an empty bed, I feel my heart sink as the realization hits me: Hotch isn’t lying beside me anymore. Panic flutters in my chest as my mind races through a flurry of thoughts. Of course, he left. He couldn’t stay, not without risking our jobs, our reputations, and maybe even our friendship. What if one of the team found out? What would they think of me? They’d probably assume I’m taking advantage of Hotch, especially considering it’s only been two years since Haley’s passing. The man seems to still be grieving, and here I am, complicating things even more.

The distant sound of the shower running breaks through my panic, and relief floods through me, mingling with a tinge of nervousness. Maybe he hadn’t left entirely. Maybe there’s still a chance, a hope that last night wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness, but something more. Last night was the first time we gave in to the building sexual tension between us.

His clothes are still strewn across my room, a tangible reminder of the intimacy we shared. I can’t help but replay the events of last night in my mind—the way his touch ignited a fire within me, the way his eyes held mine with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. The way he was so gentle yet so dominant, knowing how to work my body right.

As I slowly come to wakefulness, the sound of the shower grows louder, filling the empty space with its steady rhythm. Part of me longs to join him, to lose myself in the warmth of his embrace once more. But another part of me hesitates, afraid of what this newfound connection might mean for us both.

Before I can decide both of our phones are ringing, the shrill sound makes my head hurt and I’m groaning, burying my face in the pillow Hotch had previously slept on. The phones ring till they stop and I count to four before both start ringing again, ruining the peace this almost domestic moment.

I’m smacking the bed in faint protest before wriggling over to the nearest phone and answering, “Yeah?”

No one speaks for a second before I recognise JJ clearing her throat, “We need you in, we’ve got a case.” There’s amusement in her tone that has me frowning before my heart drops for the second time this morning.

“JJ…” I pause, swallowing thickly, “This is Hotch’s phone, isn’t it?” I groan, turning my head to look at the bedside table to see my phone sitting there, “Oh god!”

“I won’t say a word,” She pauses and I hear her stifle a small laugh, I won’t tell if you tell me all about it on girls night.”

“Deal.” I reluctantly agree before hanging up and throwing Hotch’s phone somewhere on the bed.

I climb out of bed, feeling the cool air against my skin as I pad to the bathroom, wearing nothing but Hotch’s button up I throw on haphazardly, not bothering to do it up.

Hotch stands under the shower, his silhouette obscured by the mist, like a figure emerging from a dream. The gentle stream of water traces the contours of his body, sculpting shadows and highlights that accentuate every line and sinew. Droplets cling to his skin, glistening like diamonds in the soft light filtering through the steam.

His shoulders, broad and powerful, bear the weight of countless burdens, yet in this moment, they seem almost weightless, as if the water washes away the weight of the world. The water cascades over his chest, tracing the ripple of muscle, each movement a testament to strength and resilience.

His jawline is sharp, chiseled, a portrait of determination and resolve. The water courses over it, tracing the curve of his lips, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners. There’s a vulnerability in that smile, a glimpse of the man behind the stoic facade, and it steals my breath away.

His eyes, closed in peaceful repose, are hidden from view, yet I can imagine them so clearly—deep pools of darkness, windows to a soul that has weathered storms and emerged unbroken. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and in that moment, I feel as though I can see straight into his.

Every inch of him is a study in contrasts—the strength and vulnerability, the resilience and tenderness—all wrapped up in one beautiful, complex package. And as I watch him, bathed in the gentle embrace of the water, I feel something stir within me, something deep and unspoken.

It’s as if with each droplet that falls, my heart beats a little faster, my breath catches a little tighter. In that moment, I realize just how deeply I’ve fallen for him, how every part of me longs to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and never let go.

I give in to that want, stepping towards the shower, the warm water enveloping me like a comforting embrace. With a quick motion, I shrug off his shirt, feeling the fabric slip from my skin, and I step under the water next to him. Droplets cascade over us, mingling with the steam, as I close the distance between us.

My fingers tremble as I reach out, brushing lightly up his toned bicep, tracing the contours of muscle beneath his skin. A small sound escapes him, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, as he looks down to meet my gaze. His cognac eyes soften as they meet mine, warmth and affection swirling within their depths.

His hands find my hips, fingers tracing patterns against my skin, as if mapping out the curves and contours of my body. There’s a tenderness in his touch, a gentleness that belies the strength of the man before me. With each caress, he stirs something deep within me, igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment.

I feel a surge of longing, an ache that resonates deep within my soul, as his touch sends shivers coursing through me. It’s as if every nerve in my body is alight with electricity, every sense heightened by the intensity of his presence.

And then, without hesitation, he pulls me flush against him, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss. It’s a collision of desire and longing, a meeting of souls bound together by the undeniable pull of attraction. His lips are soft against mine, a gentle exploration that sets my heart ablaze.

“Can we just stay here?” I mumble, pulling away from the kiss to rest my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my cheek. I don’t care if we’re late, if I have to dry my hair before we leave, if we miss the plane. I don’t care for anything except the safety of Hotch’s strong arms wrapped around me.

“I don’t suppose the only reason you came in was to shower with me, was it?” He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him, an eyebrow raise and an amused look on his face.

“No,” I can’t help but pout, drawing a chuckle from him and he ducks down to press a kiss to my forehead, “we have a case.”

“Well,” he brushes my now wet hair from my face, “We have about an hour.”

“It takes me 45 on a good day Hotch.” I grumble and his eyes widen a little in disbelief as I’ve never told anyone where I live let alone how long it takes me to get to work until now. Until the very man I’ve been dreaming of for months is standing, very, very naked in my shower.

“Alright sweetheart, we’ll pick up some coffee on the way in.” My heart flutters at the pet name, my cheeks heating up and I’m burying my face in his muscular chest, “Sweetheart?”

“What happens when we enter the office?” I mumble against his chest.

“Nothing has to change.”

“Nothing has to change?”

“I promise”

Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

By moonlight

Adar x Fem!Elf!Reader

Part one, two Three- My heart

Summary: Adar steals moments from his Sunset before heading to battle.

His Andúnë remained, her soft light illuminating the depths of Adar's heart. She stayed far from the tunnels edge, away from the men who swore their loyalty. He missed her warmth when there and found himself often trudging through the uneven mud to the children's tents.

This day she lay on their soft bedding. Spread like he had been on the breaking wheel. But there was no pain to be had here. Instead each limb had one or more Uruklings curled around them. Atop her breast lay the baby she'd saved, drooling into her clavicle. He smiled gently down at them, leaving her to rest.

He walked with her when he could. Into the sun to watch over her while she gathered herbs. He knew he didn't need to, that the Uruk scouts in the trees would've protected her. Still the stolen moments were irresistible to him. Her hair catching the light, her laughing with the children. Sweet as bird song. He longed for her to look softly at him. To bend her lips into that perfect smile just for him.

It was a foolish dream. He was a broken and twisted thing. She was not bound to him and never would be. Her light was meant for someone better.

...

You felt Adar's presence for a moment before that shadow passed. You couldn't move, so covered in the Uruklings as you were. It was warm, suffocating even but pleasant. They all slept in a pile together when their parents were gone. It seemed they felt the cold more keenly than their mothers.

Uruk women were hard working. None would dare put in less than their men. A deserved pride, you saw how strong they were yourself. You admired them greatly. You'd been a passive thing in your home. Never given the same opportunity for greatness as your male kin. Your small skill with a sword had been behind your father's back.

Glüg's mate, Vusha, and other pregnant women stayed with the children and the wounded. Still there were no idle hands here. They worked mending and healing alongside the children. Building supports and covers if their stomachs weren't too swollen. Vusha swiped the tents flap open. She chased the little ones off, with a bark of laughter and brought you out to the tunnels beyond for the day.

Vusha was a brash, vulgar tongued women and you liked her greatly. Often her jokes and stories brought a fierce blush to your ears. Of late she'd focused much of her energy on your own lack of relationship experience.

"Far too pretty a thing not to get a little messy in your bed roll." She said with a wink. You'd buried your face behind the tunic you'd been sewing.

"What about the men-folk. Not too bad to your eye I'd imagine." She nodded to the group beyond.

You followed her eye to the men. They came from a village that Adar had taken a day ago. Most were barely out of their childhood and the ones that were, tended towards harsh and unfriendly. One looked to you both with a curled lip.

"I think not." You said, drawing your eye to the baby. He was large now, able to toddle on fat little legs between you and the other children.

"Suit yourself." She huffed and you breathed a sigh of relief. "You know Glüg's brothers' meant to be a good ride?"

When night fell you felt a shadow pass by the tents. A familiar shiver ran up your spine and you fought the smile threatening to split your face.

"Andúnë." Adar's gravely voice spoke. You turned still crouched by the children. He bowed his head to you his bare hand over his heart. He did this each time and still it made your heart flutter. He greeted you so softly, like you were a Lady and not a lowly Elleth in the muck.

"How are they." Adar spoke, turning to the tent and away from your gaze. You blinked, shifting your own too. You hadn't realized how intensely your stare must have been. You cursed how awkward you'd become in front of him now.

"Well, my Lord. The baby has a tooth now." You smiled, rubbing your ankle absent mindlessly.

Adar turned back to you, his brow furrowed a moment before he reached his hand to you. You savored the roughness of his skin against your own.

"Ah yes, fret not." He rasped as you stood. His hand left yours cold. "They set one another right in time."

You watched where he did. The baby toddling, falling and crawling quick after giggling children.

"Their skin is tough, yours however..." Adar turned back to you. You pulled your lips tight, he had broken skin but it was healing well. Likely to scar however given your resources.

"I am fine Lord Adar." You said.

"If you won't tell me truthfully, I'll check myself." He hummed.

You didn't respond right away. His gauntlet shifted on his swords pommel and Adar dropped to his knee. You frowned, his hand touching the torn edge of your dress. Adar's rough fingers barely touched your ankle when your mind returned to you. You shrieked, skipping back as your heard the children laugh. Staring back at Adar's wide eyes you flustered.

"I'm fine! I swear!" You urged.

"Are you in pain?" Adar's rough voice spoke gravely. Your heart thundered in your chest. His eyes darkened, baring into your own as he stood.

"No! No, no. I just." You fumbled, fingers tightening on your dress as he approached. The room felt silent as you cast your eyes from his. That soft meadow green that felt like it could swallow you whole. He paused, before you saw him bow in your peripherals.

"Please, forgive me." He whispered. "I didn't mean to... impose."

"Oh, please my Lord rise." You gasped, placing a hand to his armored shoulder. "I'm well, everything is well."

He rose, your hand slipping from where it had rested on his chest plate. You felt your heart in your throat, your face was so hot. There was tightness in your chest that felt for all the world like it could crush you. Your eyes left his, traveling over his scared skin. Your finger tips buzzed, a desire so deep in your soul to reach out. Too feel him beneath your hand, beneath you.

A sudden giggling shout broke what spell had been cast on you. Adar too stiffened his face turning to the baby as his nails dug into your skirts. Your face burned as you stooped to him, lifting him up to your chest.

"I must go." Adar rasped, rushing out before you could speak a word.

...

There was much at hand. The last of the Southlanders gathered in the Eleven watch tower. The hilt among them, the key to his Uruk's home. Adar couldn't let his mind wander, couldn't imagine her flushed face, the heat of her skin on his fingers.

He gripped the pommel of his sword tighter in his hand. Even through his gauntlet he could feel the spiked end digging in. The sharp bite to his skin grounded him in the moment.

He laid out the plan ahead to his most fearsome warriors. Glüg had been disappointment not to be amongst them. Adar hadn't thought less of him as a fighter, he merely wished he would stay to look after the others. He was sure at least his mate would be appreciative of his task and there were few others he trusted his Andúnë to.

He wished to see her. To ensure she was well, to see if he was truly forgiven for his trespass. Adar cursed himself. It was a foolish act, a bold move he'd intended as playful fueled by a fear she was actually injured.

Adar also wished to look upon her just in case. If he were to fall this night, he wished to do so with her face in his minds eye. He was so certain she held no real fondness for him but he swore he saw something. Just a glimpse when their eyes met. A flicker that could be fanned if it weren't for his ruined form. Her eyes had moved to his scars and he'd bit back hope.

Instead Adar dug his fist into the dirt. Softly planting seeds and covering them with care. Tomorrow his children would have a home.

...

You waited with the children, with the pregnant. You felt an anger rising in you, burning behind your eyes. How could he leave without saying anything? Without giving you a chance to raise a sword. You didn't relish the idea of taking the villages lives but to protect what you had?

"You named him yet?" Glüg spoke from your side. He sat on the hill with you, looking towards the tower.

"Gurbaur. Though it feels wrong for it to be my choice." You spoke softly. He rested in your arms, his scars paler and pinker than the ashy complexion of his skin. They'd shift with age, maybe it wouldn't cover so much of his face then.

"He's yours now. Far as any are concerned. Gurbaur? Vusha give you that one?" Glüg asked.

"She's been teaching me yes and she said it meant stone son. Thought he deserved a strong one after all he's survived." You smiled despite yourself.

"You see far too right?" Glüg asked again.

"Beyond the horizon if I like." You answered. Elven eyes were keen and yours were focused on the village now.

"Do you see him." Glüg said, leaning forward to try and look himself.

"The fire in the village there..." You pointed, sure he could see the glow at least. "Lord Adar is there, he walks towards a large building at the center."

You watched still as the sun began to rise. Glüg wordlessly took the your Gurbaur before the sun could reach him. You watched still as a shadow of a fear began to grow in your mind. Something was wrong, something was very wrong.

...

Adar sat in the barn, bloodied but alive. The chains kept him to the post, kept his wrists together. Outside his children huddled under cover, guarded by the men from the sea.

If that man was true to his oath, if he wouldn't be discovered, it wouldn't be long now. He was far closer than he'd imagined, not nearly in a safe path. From what he'd read the mountain's peak would explode. Rock and fire would rain upon the land and a great smoke would blot the sun for millenniums to come. He closed his eyes, Adar could rest. His work was almost done now.

He didn't do so for long. There was a creak on the boards above him, the hayloft. Some man to slit his throat no doubt, taking a hidden entrance to do the deed. He prepared to counter, to kick out their legs. He would see his children's new home, this would not be robbed by the likes of them.

"Adar...?" A soft voice called. Sweet and filled with a fear that cut through him.

He opened his eyes. Past the rays of sun and dust floating in the air. She was here, his heart, Andúnë. Perhaps his wounds had been worse than he'd thought. That something beyond had taken pity on him and sent this vision to guide him into the darkness beyond. His eyes slipped closed, ready for her to take him away.

"Adar... zo zemar. Come back to me." Her voice grew closer, a soft warmth encompassing his cheek.

"My heart, I am with you." Adar rasped in return to her black speech. The apparition was so real, so soft. Even past the horse he could smell her, her scent so close it had him dizzy.

Adar opened his eyes again. She was knelt between his legs, her face close and tight in concern. Against his chains Adar lifted his hand to her, brushing his knuckles against her temple and down her cheek. Her face broke into an uneven smile, real and more beautiful than any sunset. Tears like stars glistening on her lashes.

"How are you here?" Adar breathed. She was real, solid in his vision. She wore a soldiers cloak, stolen and pulled over her ears and an had a hatchet in hand.

"I saw from the hill. I cannot leave you here. Oh what have they done to you." She fretted over him. Her hand came away from his cheek to run across the river patterns on his armor.

"Nothing that cannot be mended but..." Adar paused. Your face turned to the sound, a great cracking and rumble. He saw your face pale, fear setting in as the rumbling grew near. You took your hatchet to the metal, swinging down at the chain that bound him. Adar didn't think you had it in you but your strike was strong and true. It hit a weak point and broke away.

"Lay with me, listen." Adar sighed. He shifted to the wooden boards, ear pressed and hearing the water rush bellow. You followed, facing him as you did so. He saw your brow furrow at the sound, laying so close to him. He felt your breath against his cheek and smiled.

"Come, we must move." He said. Again you followed him, hands at his elbows to brace him as he stood. He didn't need your support but he let your hands grasp him. Let an arm wind around his middle and take his injured hand in your own.

Adar let you guide him to the doors, you moved ahead pulling with a grunt to open them for him. Chaos sounded, a clamor of soldiers rushing past not even paying either of you any mind. Adar pulled you back to him, a hand wrapping around your arm.

Your eyes were far, fixed on the mountain. A great clap sounded out, louder than any thunder. A bright light erupted with it and a force rushed out. Adar turned then, taking the blast to his back with you pressed now against his chest. You yelped but covered your mouth quickly, looking up to him through your eyelashes.

Adar kept his arms around you, turning back to the great mountain as it spewed ash and rock into the sky. His children cheered and yelled, breaking free and running to him. Great rocks, flaming and bigger than houses soared through the skies.

"What... what is this." You whispered.

"Home." Adar answered.

[babyboydaniel]

Knock, Knock (M) | Part 2

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader | Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lando really needs to learn how to knock.

Smut, Fluff | Warnings: 18+, PinV, Fingering, Semi-Public, Oral (Female Receiving) | Word Count: 1.8K

“Lando, what the fuck?” you shrieked, yanking down your dress to cover yourself.

You would think that after walking in on something he should not have seen, he would have left, no. He was still standing in the cramped room with you, the door slightly ajar behind him. His pouty, pink mouth glistened from where his bottom lip had been tucked between his teeth. His breathing ragged, as if he was the one that was ruined. His eyes had not left yours since he walked in on you.

“Fucking close the door, would ya?” you asked, exasperated.

With a jump, Lando quickly turned to close the door, slamming it against the doorframe with a little too much force. The noise causes waves in the stifling room. Lando stood with his back to you, his muscles tight underneath his hoodie, and his hands in fists at his sides.

No longer being watched, you shifted on the couch as you attempted to pull up your underwear, but your actions brought his eyes back to you. Your hands stilled, debating whether to continue. Fuck it, you thought. He had already seen all of you, so with a snap, you arranged your underwear on your hips.  

A muffled groan passed through your lips as the material skimmed over your sensitive core. Lando whined in response.

“You should really work on learning how to fucking knock,” you seethed, standing up to face him.

Lando has not said anything at this point. His eyes were doing all the talking. The desire was evident in his now stormy blues.

Then he is walking over to you, crowding in your space. So close that his minty breath fanned over your heated skin, providing a bit of relief. Before you were able to react, Lando laced his fingers around your wrist, bringing the hand that had been buried deep in you and still covered in your essence up to his lips. His tongue reached out for a tentative lick, he moaned at the taste, and then he sucked each finger clean. Lando swirled his tongue around each one and released them with a soft pop. 

You stood there in shock, mouth agape. Your mind took too long to comprehend what was happening. Once you did, Lando already released your hand. A self-satisfied grin on his lips. You would be a liar if you said your pussy did not clench at that, making your underwear that much wetter.

You stepped back to put space between you two in the charged room. Trying to clear your head a bit, the scent of Lando’s cologne and your post-orgasm brain making it hard to think, not to mention the feeling of his tongue on your skin. It only made you want more. Shaking your head, you forced yourself to focus on Daniel. That it was him that you wanted and loved, not Lando. Lando was nothing to you, just some guy you barely knew. And you had to get him out of there before Daniel returned.

“Lando, you need to leave. Don’t say anything to Danny. Just forgot any of this happened, and we will call it even,” you offered.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Lando chuckled, “Though maybe I want to discuss with him how delicious his girlfriend tastes.”

You groaned in frustration. Lando was such a little shit.

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” you deadpanned.

“I mean, it might be the highlight of tomorrow’s debrief. So, everyone on the team knows how delectable you are,” Lando teased.

You rolled your eyes. Gosh, why did he insist on making this difficult?

“Alrighty then, time for you to go,” you stated as you walked over to the door, swinging it open so he would leave.

Lando finally gave in, crossing the room until he was at the doorway. He hesitated. Then Lando turned to you. With unbelievable boldness, he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. You squealed as your hands came to rest on his chest, and you could feel his hardened member pressed to your abdomen. Dipping down until his lips brushed your ear, he whispered, “Next time I taste you, I want it to be directly from the source.”

You shivered.

Lando let go of you, leaving you with your mouth hanging open, as he turned to leave. With a wink thrown over his shoulder, he was gone.

Once alone again, you felt as though you could breathe. You were so fucked. This weekend was going to be absolute hell.

It was not before long that Daniel returned. His ever-present smile graced his lips. His warm eyes provide a sense of comfort. You had missed him. You ran into his arms the moment you saw it was him walking through the door. He hugged you back with the same enthusiasm, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did my baby miss me?” he joked.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. If you opened your mouth, you would be tempted to confess what happened, but it wasn’t the time or place. It could wait until you were back in the comfort of your hotel room. 

“You ready to get out of here?” Daniel asked, pulling back slightly to look at you.

“Yes, please,” you rushed out.

Daniel laughed, “That bad, huh?”

A shy smile pulled at your lips, “I just want to get you alone,” flattening your body flush against your boyfriend’s.

Daniel tangled his hand in your hair, guiding your face to his so he could capture his lips between yours. Daniel, not waiting for your permission to push his tongue between them, licked into your mouth. The kiss was filthy. Daniel, biting and sucking at your bottom lip before diving back in for more. 

You were panting, breathless. Daniel chuckled. His lips leave yours to find a place along your neck. At first, the kisses were as light as a feather, just enough to have you grinding against Daniel’s body. Encouraged by your behavior, Daniel began sucking and nipping at the skin there. Much to Daniel’s pleasure, you were full-on moaning and begging for more. If you let him, you were positive Daniel could make you come just like that. You tipped your head back, giving Daniel complete access to mark you up. You loved it when he left hickeys on you, making it clear to everyone that you were taken. That you were his. 

The hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair wandered down your body, skimming over the thin fabric of your dress until he reached the edge. Slipping underneath, Daniel’s fingers brushed over your covered slit, the material soaked with your juices. 

A strangled cry came from Daniel, “Fuck baby, you are so wet.”

As if he needed to verify, he dipped his hand into your underwear. Covering his fingers in you, he lightly rubbed your clit. You rocked your hips against his hand, wanting more. Then his fingers were gone. 

He pulled away from your neck and lifted his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. Fuck, you thought. You instantly thought of Lando’s earlier action.

“Mmm, delicious,” Daniel moaned, winking at you.

You whined.

“Let’s go,” you said impatiently.

Daniel nodded and pressed a kiss to your lips before moving to gather his things. You did the same, which only took a couple of minutes. With everything packed up, Daniel grabbed your hand as you walked from the room and down the hallway. 

You were hoping to avoid running into Lando on your way out, and you almost accomplished that. But, as you rounded the corner, you came face to face with him. 

“You leaving?” Lando questioned, his eyes lingering on you.

You shifted under the weight of his gaze. He was anything but subtle, and the audacity to do it in front of your boyfriend was cocky.

“Yep, we are out of here. I got to get the missus into bed,” Daniel joked, the statement having a double meaning that did not go unnoticed.

“Ah,” Lando replied, “Gotcha, well I will see you guys tomorrow.”

Daniel, being the affectionate guy he was, pulled Lando in for a hug, “See ya, mate.”

Once Daniel released him, Lando turned to you and shrugged before wrapping his arms around you. You were expecting a quick platonic hug since your boyfriend was standing next to you. But  Lando held you just a little too tight, and his one hand wandered too far down your back to be considered appropriate. As he leaned back, Lando whispered, “I can still taste you on my lips.”

The almost inaudible gasp that left your mouth made Lando chuckle as he returned to his spot in the hallway. With one last goodbye, Lando made his way to his driver’s room. You felt as though you could breathe a little easier with him gone.

The drive back to the hotel was mostly quiet. Daniel hummed along to whatever country song played on the radio while his hand rested on your thigh.

Once in the safety of your room, Daniel was on you. He pushed you onto the bed, which he kept his promise and made up for earlier. He was unrelenting as he forced you to come over and over again on his tongue before pressing your knees to your chest and fucked you hard and deep. Not stopping until your cum was leaking all over his dick, and you were crying from the pleasure.

After he was satisfied that you were satisfied, he rolled over to order you two room service. You ate in bed while only dressed in the shirt Daniel was wearing earlier. The moment you finished your food, Daniel was all over you again. Coaxing two more screaming orgasms from you and filling you with his cum. 

After some much-needed cuddling, everything in you wanted to roll over and fall asleep. But Daniel made you get up, use the bathroom, and do your nightly routine. Knowing that you would regret it if you didn’t. 

Daniel joined you in front of the mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist as you washed your face and applied your skin care, pressing soft kisses to the back of your neck.

Once done, you sleepily shuffled back to the bed and snuggled under the duvet. After completing his own routine, Daniel joined in the comfort, slipping in next to you, tugging you against his chest, and burying his face in your neck. Within in a couple of minutes, he was lightly snoring. 

As you closed your eyes, images of Lando appeared. His curly hair, his teeth-bitten lips, his beautiful eyes. The way he saw you fall apart and heard the noises you made. If Daniel did not spend the night fucking you silly, you might have been tempted to sneak off to the bathroom to get off. 

You needed to tell Daniel about what happened sooner rather than later. 

Part 1 | Part 3

[janiehellion]

Fallen From Grace

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Caught between a loveless marriage and a past you can't forget, you return to LA, the City of Angels. As old flames rekindle, you're faced with the consequences of your choices. Would you still make a decision that could destroy everything you've built over the years to experience the emotions you've longed for? “For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” (Romans 7:19)

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HURT / FLUFF / ANGST

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.277

MASTERLIST

With your hands deep in the pockets of your jacket, your face buried in a thin scarf, and the warmth of your breath that was soaking into it, it was making you shiver, and your thoughts were thrown back to the ritual of smoking a cigarette. The need to smoke bit into you; thinking of lighting one was still addictive and punishing at the same time. It had been years since you quit smoking, right before you got married to your husband, because he had always hated the smell. Still, your husband was behind you and always had your back regarding your decision to turn your life around, and he became a shoulder to lean on in the change from a reckless young adult into a now responsible and mature woman.

But lately, this routine that you once liked so much seemed to turn into a cage with no way out. The fights with your husband had become more frequent, and his constant work stress added more to the high tension between the two of you. You both were too tired to talk openly to each other anymore and with the same empathy that used to exist. Last night was pretty much no different. A silent dinner, a few short words exchanged between the two of you, and some annoyed glances at each other, until he then got up and went to his laptop in the living room, while you went to the bedroom to read one of your books.

It was days like this, where you felt overwhelmed by your life, that your mind began to wander back to him, to Lucifer Morningstar. You had left Los Angeles almost ten years ago to chase your dreams, leaving him and everything else behind after you came to the realization that it felt more like a simple friendship to you, which had scared you more than it should have. Although you had kept in touch by texting each other every now and then, you hadn't talked to or seen each other in years.

The sun was now setting as you got into your car, and you knew that the decision to visit the City of Angels once again came from some deep, restless part inside of you, and you convinced yourself it wouldn't be a mistake before sliding off your wedding ring and letting it fall into one of your pockets.

Suddenly, a message from your husband appeared on your phone. Apparently, he won’t be home for dinner tonight. He was staying out late with a colleague. Relief washed over you as you replied with an excuse about having decided that you were going out with your best friends anyway before you set the car in motion and headed towards Los Angeles.

A few hours later, you saw the familiar evening lights of what you once called home. You aimed for the LUX, the spot that Lucifer owned. Soon enough, your eyes scanned the room, looking for the one person you hoped to see as you exchanged a few words with familiar faces, but your mind was solely focused on Lucifer.

And there he was. The presence of him hit you hard—the lights, the music... It was overwhelming, and you quickly made your way to the bar, where you sat down. The face beside you? Familiar. She hadn't changed a bit, still looking fierce and gorgeous.

Maze immediately looked at you, recognizing you quickly. "There's no way... is it? Is it really you?"

"Hello, Maze," you said, nodding in her direction and smiling at her.

"It’s been a while! Ten years?"

"Close enough."

She whistled. "Lucifer’s going to freak out when he sees you; you know that, right?"

You smiled again, taking a sip of the drink that she handed you. "Where is he now?"

"I don't know. Probably around somewhere and probably smoking."

Your heart raced as you tried to control your excitement and nervousness. You sipped your drink further, trying your hardest to distract yourself. Then the door opened, and you felt that familiar presence. The smell of cigarettes and cologne hit you, making you grip your glass tighter.

"Now, look who’s graced us with his divine presence," Maze announced almost sarcastically.

You turned around, and there he was—Lucifer Morningstar. His eyes met yours with shock before he tried to hide it like usual. He wore his trademark suit, the one that always made him look like he owned the world.

"What in the world are you doing here?"

"Hello, Lucifer. Have you lost your manners in the last decade?"

"I just didn’t expect you."

"You didn’t have to. I just stopped by."

Lucifer only grunted and sat down next to you for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. He took a whiskey Maze handed him and sipped it, his silence speaking volumes.

"I just needed to get away, you know," you started, but trailed off, knowing he would see right through you.

"Finish your drink. I don’t want to talk here."

You nodded, finishing your drink quickly. Lucifer was tapping the counter impatiently, and Maze gave you a knowing look as you left. "Good luck, babe," she mouthed, winking at you.

You followed Lucifer into the elevator and then to the parking lot. Right now, his attitude annoyed you, since he used to be so different with you back then, and as soon as you were outside, he stopped and turned around to you.

"Where's your car? I will hold the door open for you."

"What? Excuse me, please? What did you just say?"

He only smirked slightly instead of answering you as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. So you approached him slowly, placing a hand on his arm and feeling his muscles through his suit.

"I just thought you might want to see me again," you said softly, looking down to the ground.

"Do you think I’m not happy to see you?"

"The way you’re reacting right now, wanting me to get into my car and leave? No, not exactly."

"I just didn’t expect to see you again in LA. You simply surprised me."

You continued holding his arm, squeezing it a bit. "I simply missed you. Is it that wrong?"

"Your fault," he mumbled, finally lighting a cigarette. He took a drag and offered it to you. "Want one?"

"No, I quit years ago, don't you remember?"

He raised an eyebrow. "And do you still always do what your boyfriend wants? Do you follow his rules? Do you obey him?"

"Don’t be an asshole, Lucifer. It’s just complicated, okay?"

He handed you the cigarette anyway, and with a sigh, you took a drag. He leaned against your car, looking out over the city. The lights of Los Angeles twinkled like a thousand little stars.

"You’ve changed," he said after a minute, watching you from the corner of his eyes.

"I never changed. I grew only up."

"No, you’ve changed."

"I’m still me, just... older."

You stood in silence. Lucifer had always been a man of few words around you, but he said so much merely by being there.

"Why didn’t he come with you?" he suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

"He’s busy, working on a case."

"How did you end up with a lawyer, I wonder?"

"If you knew him, you’d understand. He’s dedicated, passionate, even."

"He took you away."

"I know. And that wasn’t my intention."

"Aren’t you here to find yourself again?" Lucifer asked, looking at you for a moment.

"No…"

"Then why? Tell me."

"I'm here because of you, Lucifer. I needed to talk. To feel at home again."

"You can't just show up out of nowhere and expect everything to be the same as it was before."

"I did it without thinking."

"You, who plans everything down to the last detail, doing something spontaneous?"

"I just wanted to see my best friend again."

But Lucifer was right, and you knew it. It was strange to be back in Los Angeles without having really thought about it or thought of any consequences. But the feeling you had in your soul blurred every logical thought.

He suddenly grabbed your hand and walked you toward his car.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" You asked, but didn't fight him.

"It's a surprise. Just wait and see."

"A surprise? What's the plan?"

"Be quiet and sit tight." Lucifer grinned as he started the car.

After the silent ride in the car, you reached the outskirts of a familiar area, where he soon led you through a wrought-iron gate to a small, charming house with a great view of a lake. The very first things that caught your eye were a marble kitchenette and a leather sofa facing a TV that was mounted on the wall, but most especially so, the floor-to-ceiling window leading out to a terrace and the lake that looked nearly as big as the house itself.

"Is this a new place of yours?" you asked him.

"Yes, indeed, it is," Lucifer confirmed with pride. "But that is not the actual surprise. Follow me." He guided you out onto the terrace. "It's a little dark already, but can you recognize the view? Do you remember it?"

You furrowed your brow, following his gaze, and gasped as you finally realized and remembered. "Is this the place that I think it is?"

"Yes, the very spot where we spent that beautiful evening," Lucifer confirmed. "I simply thought you might appreciate the nostalgia and that I bought this place in the end."

"But how did you manage to rebuild all this?" you asked, quite overwhelmed.

"Hard work and a bit of devilish charm," he teased, turning to face you and smirking at your reaction.

You remembered that night clearly—with just Lucifer and yourself—when you were talking about your dreams and your future under the starry sky.

"This is incredible! I'm so happy for you, Lucifer," you admitted, though tears were forming in your eyes.

"You're happy for me because I bought this place?" Lucifer's eyes softened, searching for yours while he asked. "Then why do I think there's more to it than that? More than simple happiness?"

You turned away from him, blinking back tears. "Forget about it. I'm sorry; I didn't want to ruin your surprise."

Lucifer closed the distance between you quickly; his face was serious but still calm and composed. "Will you tell me why you really left back then? I don't really believe that your boyfriend could hold that much power to rip you away from everything that was so loved by you."

"You know exactly why I left," you finally said, looking at him again.

"Sure... Of course, I do. Because I always do." Lucifer answered with disappointment in his voice.

You nodded slowly, biting down on your lower lip, unsure how to proceed. "I think that I probably should go home," you whispered, the guilt creeping in, just wanting to drive back home to your apartment and forget about everything.

But Lucifer clenched his fists. "Perhaps you should, yes," he agreed reluctantly, taking a step closer to you. "But not before this," he mumbled, closing the distance between your lips.

Lucifer crashed his lips onto yours, pushing you back against the patio door. There was no denying at this point—this was so much more than just a friendly reunion. It was bringing back to life a love where the flame had never actually gone out.

He broke away slightly as he led you back into the house, his hands removing your jacket, and soon enough Lucifer loomed over you inside his bedroom, his eyes searching yours for permission and reassurance. You nodded, and he kissed you again—deeply and almost desperately.

His hands were touching your body as his lips nuzzled kisses down your neck, and you could feel your body arch into him, begging for more, which was enough for the two of you to quickly get rid of each other's clothes.

"I can't wait any longer," Lucifer confessed, his eyes locked with yours.

You met his gaze, your heart racing as you nodded, and he smiled, slowly guiding you onto the bed. His touch was almost soft as he positioned you beneath him.

For a moment, Lucifer looked at you, mumbling, "You are more beautiful than ever."

You blushed, goosebumps creeping onto your skin as his fingertips brushed along your collarbone and slowly down your arm until he kissed the inside of your wrist delicately.

"You're exquisite," he said softly before his lips traveled up your arm again, across your shoulder, and onto the curve of your neck.

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, before his lips finally kissed your own. His mouth moved slowly against yours, listening to each sigh that came out of your mouth. You reached for his arms, bringing his hands to your tits, where his fingers gently squeezed them, his thumbs lightly stroking your sensitive nipples and feeling them harden.

Once done, Lucifer's hands went down to your waist, pulling you up to straddle him. He slowly lowered you down onto his cock and pushed himself into you. His eyes didn't leave yours as he moved in very slowly, filling you up completely.

"You feel incredible," he groaned, his hands holding your hips tightly. "I've wanted this for so long."

You began moving, your body slowly going up and down as you leaned forward just a little bit with your hands on his shoulders for balance as you were riding him, and Lucifer's hands slid up your back until he pulled you close, burying his face in your neck.

"You're so perfect," he murmured. "Every part of you is."

You shivered at his words and moaned softly as his hands now moved down to your stomach from your breasts, then back to your thighs, and though the moments were stretching on, Lucifer's thrusts were still gentle instead of fast and rough.

"You're simply amazing," he whispered in your ear. "I want to make you feel everything."

His words only heightened your lust, and you rode him even more eagerly until both of you were breathless, wanting more.

But Lucifer's eyes stayed on your face. "I wish this would last forever," he whispered.

You moaned again and closed your eyes, your body quickening in time with his upward thrusts as you both felt your approaching orgasm.

His thrusts grew urgent, his hands gripping you a little bit harder to guide you through the final moments before you came, and Lucifer's body shuddered against yours.

As soon as your orgasms began to subside, Lucifer's thrusts did likewise. He embraced you tightly, stroking your back, and kissed your forehead softly. "I have missed you more than you know."

You clung to him, your racing heart only now starting to slow down. "I've missed you too," you whispered, your voice shaking, before tensing up as a certain thought inside your head started to form itself, your eyes narrowing.

"Protection! I... I didn't think of—" You started, but your words seemed to be stuck in your throat. "I'm sorry, Lucifer. I should have been more careful!"

"Don't worry about it right now, my dear. Focus only on us. and this moment," he simply answered without any care, but you ignored his words, and just then your eyes fell on something that lay on the ground beside your clothes; his eyes followed in the same direction—your wedding ring, which you had left carelessly in one of your pockets. His eyes went from that ring to you, and only then did he realize what was actually on your mind.

"Wait, wait, wait," he whispered quietly, furrowing his brow as he pushed you off, got up, and picked up the ring slowly from the floor. "You... you're married to him? What? You're actually still with him? Are you kidding me?"

Your face went pale, and you couldn't deny the truth, nor was there any reason to try to lie to him. "Yes, I am, but—"

"But what!" He cut you off. "Is this some kind of devil's bargain? Did you come here to light up an old flame, all the while you're still wearing another man's ring? Is this some kind of sick joke to you?"

"No, no! Listen, Lucifer! Listen to me! I didn't come here to hurt you," you tried to explain, your voice breaking. "I came because I missed you and—"

"Missed me?" He laughed out loud and shook his head. "You come back into my life, get me all worked up, and then this? Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I must be quite the fool for thinking that you actually came back for me after ten years. How foolish I am, indeed."

"Listen! You don't understand! Just calm down and listen to me, please!" you pleaded, your face now red with tears that started to roll down your cheeks. "I never meant for this to happen! You know that! It just happened!"

"Never meant for it to happen?" Lucifer scoffed, anger suddenly giving way to a mocking laugh. "Oh, please, my dear. You do think this is some kind of joke, don't you? Did you come back just to test my patience?"

He turned away from you—his hurt was obvious as he threw your wedding ring across his bedroom. "How very amusing," he said bitterly. "A married woman who seeks out the Devil."

You reached out to him, your voice desperate, but he didn't let you touch him anymore. "Please, Lucifer, don't be like this. I never wanted to hurt you, I promise!"

He turned toward you again. "Don't be like this, you say? What did you expect? Should I just take this as some cruel joke of, what, fate? You think I should simply forgive and forget just because you come at me with a few tears and your excuses?

He had picked up a cigarette from the package lying on the side table of the bed and grabbed a lighter. "Here's a solution for you," he said, lighting the cigarette. "Why don't you go back home to your husband? I'm sure he's just waiting for you to come crawling back into his arms, so you can do what he wants some more."

You winced at the mockery and sarcastic tone in his voice. "Lucifer, please don't—"

"Don't what?" he interrupted you again. "What is it, huh? Don't you want me to remind you of the mistake you've just made? Don't make you face the reality of your actions? Of our... situation?"

He took another drag from the cigarette. "How amusing," he said bitterly. "I've spent most of my time in Hell, and with you, I finally got a taste of Heaven again, only to have it taken away from me in an instant..."

He flicked the cigarette into an ashtray, letting it go out by itself as it continued to burn down. "I'm supposed to be the Devil," he said, his lips now showing a rather sad and hurt smile. "But right now, I feel like I am the biggest fool in all of creation there ever was..."

The silence fell between you, and there, in his eyes, was only hurt, pain, and pure anger.

"I'm so sorry for everything, Lucifer. I never wanted to hurt you, really! Just believe me! Please!" You pleaded and begged.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, his anger now replaced by sadness, especially given the look on his face. "So, now what?" he asked. "What do you think happens to us after all this?"

"I don't know," you said, your voice trembling as you took a deep breath. "I wish things could be different, but they aren't. Believe me, I know this was wrong. I was wrong."

Lucifer took a deep breath as well to try to relax himself and calm down. "Well, wishing won't do anything, nor will prayers," he said, getting to his feet. "And if you want me to be completely honest, then I think you should leave."

You realized you were feeling regret—this was the end of what could have been all along, what could've been all those years ago. "I'm so sorry, Lucifer," you said again, through the tears that were now streaming down your face. "I wish there was a way..."

He smiled at you sadly and shrugged, handing you your clothes. "Here's to the past," he said bitterly. "May it stay there."

You took them from him, brushing your fingers across his while doing so, and began dressing quickly. "Goodbye, Lucifer," you said softly, your voice cracking again.

"Goodbye," he replied as his eyes watched you walk towards the door and into the living room. The taxi was called quickly, and you turned to go out of the front door, but you stopped for a second, turning around to the bedroom door again that he was about to close. "Go on and don't keep the taxi driver waiting."

After he closed the door, you quickly grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a note, tears falling onto the paper and smudging the ink. You left it on the coffee table and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind you. The street was already dark, with only a few lights on each side of the road, and you quickened your pace to the main road. After a few minutes, you could finally see the approaching lights of a taxi.

The taxi driver soon enough returned you to your car, which was still parked in the LUX. Once inside your car, you glanced at the time, which was approaching midnight, and then you noticed the three messages from your husband and some missed calls from him that you quickly opened nervously.

9:42 PM: "Where are you? I'm back, and you're not here."

10:39 PM: "When are you coming back? Why don’t you answer? I’m worried."

11:16 PM: "I called your friends, but they said you weren't even with them tonight. What's going on? Please call me!"

Tears silently rolled down your face again as guilt consumed you. How had things gone so wrong? Your life had been perfect—or so you thought all the time. You’d spent the last ten years forgetting about your feelings for Lucifer, pushing them aside, and now, in one evening, you’d destroyed everything.

With trembling fingers, you tried calling your husband, but there was no answer. The worst part of this whole mess wasn’t just that you’d probably destroyed your life, but how little you’d considered the consequences of your actions with Lucifer in the first place. If karma were real, you thought, you’d crash while driving back home. But two hours later, you found yourself standing in the parking lot of your apartment again.

Entering it quietly and closing the door behind you, you saw your husband asleep on the big couch in your living room, his mobile phone still next to him. With one hand, you covered your mouth to stifle a sob, not wanting to wake him up, and you paused, uncertain of what to do, then slowly removed your jacket, throwing it over a chair, and decided to lay down beside him.

You couldn't help but remember how you both had always been a great team, at least at the start of your relationship back then, facing the darkest moments and hours together and supporting each other through thick and thin. He’d always been there for you; maybe he's been too distant at times, but he's been there nonetheless.

And now your endless thoughts about your mistake kept you awake until exhaustion finally took over. Later, when you woke up, your husband was gone. You hoped it had all been a bad nightmare, but the note on the table proved otherwise:

"When I get back from work, you tell me what the hell happened! And don’t even try to call me today! We'll sit down and talk in person."

You stared at the note, rereading it several times before crumpling it and throwing it on the floor in frustration. You grabbed your coat and left, not even bothering to look in the mirror. At the pharmacy, you were quick, buying what you needed before heading back home. Once sitting down on the couch, staring at the morning-after pill on the table, you knew you should take it right away, but something inside you held you back.

Your eyes kept wandering around, seeking distraction, but just as you were about to scream, the doorbell rang, making you jump. You tried to calm yourself before opening the door, but it wasn’t your husband who you thought might have left his keys behind. Standing there was Lucifer, who decided to step inside your apartment without even waiting for an invitation.

"What in the world are you doing here?" you asked, staring at him while closing the front door.

Lucifer pulled a crumpled note from his pocket—the note you had left for him. "Why do I have to read such nonsense?"

He held up the note before reading it out loud.

"Lucifer, the heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? I wish I could."

"Lucifer," you began, but he cut you off.

"Well, isn’t this poetic? The Book of Jeremiah—17:9 to be exact!" His voice sounded neutral, but you could see the fire in his eyes. "I guess the Devil isn’t the only one who’s capable of deceit, isn't he? How charming that you choose to repent now, but I’m afraid it won’t absolve you of the choices you made, my dear... I do admire your attempt at biblical drama! Quite charming, isn't it?"

Your hands were now sweaty, and your heart pounded so fast that you thought it was going to explode. "Lucifer, please..." You managed to whisper, but he shook his head.

"I suppose that’s the true nature of humans, isn’t it? Always seeking redemption when it suits them." His voice relaxed slightly, but the intensity behind it remained, and only then did he grab something from his pocket again. It was your wedding ring. "I’m not a priest, my dear. You know exactly who I am, and I won’t be so easily fooled by your attempts at repentance. I'd say that you owe me more than that."

You had barely started to open your mouth when the sound of keys at the door made you turn around in shock. You looked over just in time to see your husband standing there, his face full of anger and surprise at the same time.

"What the hell is that man doing here?" he asked, staring at you.

"Listen! It's not what you think," you started, but your voice cracked, unable to find the right words to even explain yourself.

Meanwhile, Lucifer gave him an almost bored look and crossed his arms over his chest. "Ah, the husband has finally arrived! How very delightful," he said. "I'm Lucifer, and you must've forgotten about me, I see!"

Your husband glared at him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting to be welcomed with open arms by the man of the hour. But then again, I've never been one to shy away from a bit of chaos."

You took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on the situation. "Listen, we need to talk..."

But your husband's eyes were still on Lucifer, looking him up and down. "About what? How obviously you have been cheating on me?"

You winced at the accusation, but Lucifer merely laughed. "Cheating? Now, that's a rather strong word. I prefer to think of it as rekindling old flames."

Your husband's hands clenched into fists, and he let out a scoff. "You! You have no right to be here. Leave. Now."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed, and for a slight moment, he revealed what really lay beneath. "How quaint! I assure you, I'm only a catalyst. Or, let's just say, the devil's advocate, if you will."

Your husband took a step back, his face turning pale for a second. "What the fuck are you trying to pull here, huh?"

Lucifer stepped closer to him, his smile turning into a grin as he pointed to the pill on the table in the living room, which he had noticed all along. "That little token of affection over there might reveal more with its symbolism than you may realize."

The eyes of your husband went to the pill on the table and then back to Lucifer. "What... what do you mean? What the hell are you even talking about?"

Lucifer's smile widened as he leaned forward. "Why don't you take a guess? Or maybe you would prefer to leave it to your imagination?"

"My imagination? You're obviously fucking my wife, and now you are standing here like you have some right to her? As if you own her?"

Lucifer let out a dramatic sigh. "Well, I suppose you could say I am more of an old flame to your dear wife. But let's not get down to the boring details."

Suddenly, your husband stepped forward, his anger overflowing. "Get out of my house. Now!"

"Oh, such a fiery temper. Are you sure you're not harboring a bit of Hellfire yourself?" Lucifer said sarcastically and threw his hands dramatically in the air.

The eyes of your husband widened again, and he took a step back as soon as he could while he looked into his eyes. "I'm warning you. Just leave..."

Lucifer's eyes changed, his stare reaching deep into your husband's soul. "And I assure you that I'm not someone that you want to provoke."

He took a step closer, and your husband's confidence broke down as he looked him in the eyes. "You know what? I'm done with this. I'm leaving! Don't you dare touch me, whatever the hell you are!"

Lucifer's eyes followed him, and he smirked proudly. "As you wish."

The apartment was almost completely silent as the door slammed shut behind your husband, and you stood there, paralyzed, the realization of that moment and what had just happened finally setting in, but Lucifer snapped you out of it as he looked at the morning-after pill on the table once again.

"My dear, really? Do you think that this pill is going to undo what's done now?" Lucifer started. "Do you actually believe that some sort of pill will stop something divine, like... Oh, I don't know, my touch, as an example? I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, darling."

You looked at him with shame, lust, and regret in your eyes. "What now?" You asked him, whispering silently.

"What happens now will be entirely your choice," he said, moving closer to you and stretching out his hand to touch your cheek. "You see, I very much adore you, and I have for quite a while."

His hands were soft but strong, and a shiver ran down your spine. "You can either act like nothing happened, or maybe you can accept it and see where it takes you," he said, his eyes locked on yours. "You've got a choice to make."

He stepped closer, his lips touching your ear as he spoke. "You could try to forget about the night we just had, but you and I both know better. The seed has been sown, and the question is, at this point, whether you'll let it grow."

Lucifer took a few steps back and pushed the front door open, just enough to fit through. "Whatever you choose, I will be here, waiting. And trust me," he said with a smirk, "I have all the time in the world."

[randomshyperson]

Mess is Mine - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Being divorced from Wanda Maximoff implies never getting over her.

Warnings: (+18), language, brief smut, divorced ladies who are very still much in love with each other, unspecified age gap, marriage going wrong, hopeful ending, mild angst, fluff.| Words: 3.949k.

A/N-> There's this divorced couple in a Brazilian soap opera with so much chemistry in their scenes together because of the intimacy gained during marriage (even though that didn't work out) and they won't leave my tik tok ; at some point, my brain thought about this fic. I would love to write more of this trope in the future.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

Wanda had a persistent migraine, and the pile of work in front of her was not helping.

Still, all her stubborn brain could focus on instead of her real job was the stupid headline of the gossip magazine on her desk.

A cheap and badly angled photo of her ex-wife with colorful captions that read 'The newest business killer couple?" and dozens more insinuations about a secret high-society romance made her stomach churn.

Wanda tried not to be affected by the gossip, but you looked so happy in the photo that she couldn't help it.

The sudden opening of her door made Wanda jump in her seat, in one quick pull close the magazine and sigh with relief when she saw it was only Natasha.

"Why are you here?" Her long-time friend and co-worker asked. Wanda frowned in confusion.

"It's still my company..."

Nat rolled her eyes, walking into the office and taking long strides to her desk. "I meant in here, smarty-pants. The event is starting in an hour, the staff wanted some words of encouragement or something."

Wanda sighed wearily, massaging her forehead with one hand. "Can't you do that for me, Nat? I gotta make some calls."

Nat hummed in agreement, but her gaze caught the closed magazine on the table and she raised a brow at her friend. "One of those calls includes your ex-wife, I suppose."

Wanda chuckled dryly, taking the magazine out to one of the drawers and adjusting herself to reach the desk phone. "There's nothing else for me to say to her."

Her friend hid a smile that said that she didn't believe this one bit. "Okay, whatever you say. See you later, boss."

Wanda waved goodbye, with the phone to her ear. Her immediate instinct was to dial known numbers but she shook her head to push that ridiculous idea away and went back to work.

Several hours after the peak of the event when the company was filled with guests, from potential clients to journalists looking for any news like vultures at the carrion, Wanda was at her second glass of champagne, trying to keep the rest of her patience intact after having answered so many questions for gossip magazines regarding the headline from earlier in the day.

She absolutely did not want to discuss a possible romance between her ex-wife and the heiress of Bishop Industries. 

Years before, any of them would have been afraid to question her about something so ridiculous, but that was before you came along. And melted your way into the Business Ice Queen, the untouchable Wanda Maximoff, or whatever insensitive nickname they invented about her back then. Before breaking down all of Wanda's walls, making her a better person, and of course, before you left her.

It was definitely the alcohol's fault that she was thinking about this, and with these stupid tears welling up in her eyes. Wanda swallowed all the emotion, burying it deep and making sure that no one had noticed her broken expression. With an excuse to a group of investors who were boring her into a corner, she retreated to an area far away from the company's outdoor gardens, taking a deep breath to calm herself. The beautiful view of the state lake was most welcome.

So of course the reason for her almost minor breakdown had to show up wearing her favorite suit.

"Are you running away from your guests, Maximoff?" Your tone was casual, the smile provocative. She snorted to herself, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes on the lake. You didn't mind, walking over to her at a slow pace until you were beside her on the edge. 

"I just needed some air." She merely replies. With one hand in your pockets, you adjust your own hair, and Wanda hates that she can smell the shampoo, her body betraying her and shuddering as if your scent were addictive. 

"You're avoiding me today." You comment lightheartedly, studying her face. "I arrived an hour ago and it took me almost all this time to find you."

Wanda forced a smile, finally facing you back, but her angry look made you hesitate. "I thought your chaperone was keeping you busy."

You glanced back at the party, stealing a quick check on Kate at the food stand, chatting with a blonde girl, before turning your attention back to Wanda.

"I forgot how hot you get when you're jealous."

Wanda huffs away, her cheeks burning which she tries to hide by staring at the lake. "Don't even start." She warns between teeth. 

You chuckle, rolling your eyes, but don't insist. You turn your attention to the lake as well. "I wanted to let you know that the boys have already arrived in King Cross. I spoke to them and Charles on the phone."

"I know, Pietro texted me." She retorts more harshly than she meant to and bites the inside of her cheek as she sees you lower your head in upset. With a sigh, she mumbles, "I meant, thanks for letting me know."

You smile, nodding before turning your gaze back to the party. "What do you think of Miss Bishop?" 

Wanda locks her jaw; How dare you honestly. A list of curses lays ready on the tip of her tongue, but she remembers where you two are, and takes a deep breath. You were clearly trying for some kind of reaction from her, and she's not going to let you have this victory today.

"She's beautiful." Wanda replies. "As young as you were when I met you."

You chuckle shortly, raising an eyebrow at her. "What are you implying, Maximoff?"

Wanda shrugs her shoulders softly, turning to leave. "You're quite clever, Y/N, I'm sure you follow." She hits back, but you step forward into her path. You are suddenly too close, and Wanda finds herself holding her breath. She needs to take a step back to avoid stopping breathing for good.

Your eyes stare into theirs. "Not that this is any of your business, darling, but my relationship with Kate is strictly professional."

You assure her in a low tone, and Wanda swallows hard as your gaze moves down to her lips for a long moment before focusing on her eyes again. A smile forms on your mouth next. "Besides this, I've always had a thing for older women."

Wanda sighs heavily, using all her mental control to pull away at once. "Go pay attention to your chaperone, Y/N. Especially if she's a potential client."

You roll your eyes at the business tip; you already know them by heart, the vast majority learned from Wanda. And your ex-wife makes mention of leaving, so you slide your hand down her forearm gently, taking some amusement in seeing the way she shivers.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, Wanda." You let her know, with a serious tone but a tender look. The redhead swallows dryly at the closeness of your faces now that you're standing side by side, your hands connected. "Later, after the party, okay?"

"I-I..."

"It's important." You assure her, knowing her hesitation is so as not to break your agreement about relapses. With a gentle expression, you insist, "Please, it won't take more than five minutes."

She licks her lips, and you almost kiss her. Lucky for her she agrees and walks away because God knows you would have done it, right there in that garden for all the New York reporters to have a week's news about.

Without Wanda's perfume around you, you take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, having to wait a few more minutes in the garden for your heart to stop beating so fast.

As the event nears its end and Wanda needs to give a closing speech, you say goodbye to Kate before the parking area. You ignore all the journalists who try to insinuate something about you having taken the girl to the car and exchange a glance with Wanda in the small crowd before moving toward the elevator.

Wanda has always known you so well, and with a nod, she knows exactly where she has to go.

Her work floor is completely deserted as she makes her way to her own office. But she still closes the door as she enters, letting out a tired laugh at your figure sitting on her armchair.

Her smile fades when she sees what you are reading.

"Headlines nowadays are getting creative..." You wryly chuckle, laughing at your ex-wife's caught expression. "It says here that I might have an eye to the Bishop's fortune. How silly, you gave me almost half of yours in the divorce, why would I need more money?"

"Very funny." Wanda dryly retorts, reaching up to snatch the magazine from your hands with a tug, and raking the item into the trash afterward. She crosses her arms as she looks at you. "What did you want to tell me?"

You flashed a small, sideways smile. "You used to be more polite when you wanted to sleep with me. At least offer me a drink."

Wanda chuckled dryly, rolling her eyes and begrudgingly moving to the personal bar in the corner of the room. If she leaned over more than necessary to grab one of the whiskey bottles, aware that the position in the chair gave you a full view of her ass, neither of you said anything about it. She hid her satisfied smile as she heard your breath hitch at the image, and you hid your own reaction as you cleared your throat and looked away.

Shortly thereafter, two shots of whiskey were served on the glass table in front of you. But before the toast, you declared:

"I'm leaving."

Wanda frowned, and when you made mention of taking the glass, she placed her hand on your forearm. "Speak."

You chuckled, staring her in the eyes. "I closed a contract with the Ten Rings folks. They want me in Korea for the next four months."

Wanda lets go of your arm as if she had been burned and steps away from the table with an indecipherable, but very disturbed expression.

"B-but the boys.." She tries to formulate, but you rise from the armchair with a sigh.

"They'll be at school." You retort, even though firm, your gaze is almost pleading. For what, Wanda doesn't have the heart to wonder. "It's not as if they stay with us all the time, Wands. The boarding school takes up this time quite well. It will only be four months, and they've already invented the telephone and internet, you know?" You try to joke, but Wanda hugs her own body and faces you.

"Why are you here, then? You've traveled before."

"Not for that long." You say, taking steps toward her, and mentally thanking heavens that she doesn't pull away. "And not... not since we made the divorce official."

"Y/N..."

"I know, I know." You murmur with a sad smile, raising your hands to her arms uncovered by her dress. "Maybe it's stupid, but I wanted to make sure we're okay. That it won't be something...I don't know, that hurts us."

"More than a divorce? I find that difficult." She replies with restrained emotion in her husky voice. You sigh.

"Wanda..."

"No, you're right. It was stupid." She cuts off, pulling away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "Of course it's okay. But I appreciate that you respect the concept of shared custody. I imagine the kids already know?"

"Yes, I told them before I took them to the airport." You mutter upset, watching Wanda walk away to the window. "But Wands, I wanted to tell you in person..."

"And why is that, huh?" she retorts with an impatience that makes you flinch. And for this, Wanda loses it for good. "You know, I don't understand you! You left me! You filed for divorce, you wanted to break us up. But you keep showing up here, and at home, and everywhere, and now you want to come here and say you care-"

"I care, Wa-"

"Then why did you leave me?" she shouts back, almost regretting it when she sees the tears in your eyes. You laugh tearfully, shaking your head.

"We've had this conversation dozens of times, Wan." You say, much calmer than she is. "But you just can't accept that you're wrong, can you?"

"Right, I forgot that I'm the villain in your story." She sneers, wiping her face with the back of her hand. You give another sad laugh.

"I wish it were that simple, darling." You tell her, taking slow steps toward her. "If you were just the villain, the bad wife, the evil boss, everything would be easier. I could hate you, curse your names to all my friends, and spend all the divorce money on expensive, empty things out there, but it's not like that. You forget the part that I love you and tried to fight for us until the last second."

Wanda sobs quietly, looking down at the floor, "Don't do that, Y/N."

"But it's true, baby, you know. I'm not the one who broke any promises, Wands. I just got tired of begging for crumbs of attention from the person who swore to spend the rest of her days with me."

Wanda lifts her chin, and the determination in her gaze doesn't do justice to the tears. "You knew how much my career meant when you said yes."

You smile sadly, taking one last step to get close enough to hold her face. Wanda shudders as you wipe away her tears, as you have done so many times before, as if no time has passed and everything was fine.

"I am so proud of you, Wands, for all you have accomplished with your work. I only wish I had been as important as this building." 

You place a long kiss on her forehead, pulling away afterward. You offer her one last sad smile before closing the door on your way out. Wanda starts to cry as soon as you have done so, even though she tries very hard to keep her tears away.

–//–

You burned a pancake to answer the door, but all the irritation over the ruined dish vanished when you saw Wanda standing in front of you.

It had only been a few days since you had last seen her, and now all the furniture in your apartment was already packed away and covered with rags, prepared for the time you would be away. Wanda's party dress gave way to a casual suit that made you swallow dryly and become self-conscious of the sweatpants and sports top you were wearing. Wanda wouldn't have picked anything better.

"Are you going to let me in, detka?" Wanda asked with some teasing for your moment of shock. You immediately recovered, making room for her to enter and closing the door once she was in the hall. "Sorry for disturbing your breakfast. I wanted to see you before your flight."

"Oh, don't worry about it. And I'm not going until the afternoon." You clarified somewhat clumsily by her presence, one hand still holding a spatula and the other adjusting your hair. "I made pancakes if you'd like..."

"I would love it." Wanda assured with a smile that made your stomach twist. It wasn't fair that your ex-wife got more beautiful every time you looked at her, honestly.

Wanda followed you back into the kitchen, and to both your surprise, you fell into a light conversation about work and the boys while preparing and serving food, completely different from the tone of the conversation the last time you had seen each other. 

But it was a time bomb, of course, so you weren't surprised when Wanda suddenly bit her lip, assuming a more tense posture. 

Finishing chewing your pancakes, you asked:

"Why are you here, sweetheart?" 

Wanda raised her eyes to you, and you stared back at her, patiently for her to clarify. 

"I wanted to say goodbye to you properly." She said, spinning her own stool around first before tipping her hands around yours to spin you toward her. You raise a brow in curiosity, but the question of what she was doing dies in your throat as she leans in and brings your lips together. 

It has been exactly three months, eighteen days, and sixteen hours since you last kissed Wanda, and you only realize how much you missed the feeling when she does it again. It's as intoxicating as it is overwhelming, and you gasp into her lips, breaking the kiss at once as you stand up, taking good steps away from the countertop.

"Wanda, we talked about this." You remind her in a husky voice, pressing a hand over your face. It's ridiculous how much your skin is burning and your heart is racing for something that lasted less than three seconds. "No relapses. You promised-"

"It's not a relapse." She assured, reaching up and grabbing your hands to place them around her waist. You grunted at the sensation, closing your eyes as Wanda slipped hers over your shoulders, too close for you to think about anything other than her. "It's a parting gift. So you'll have a reason to come back."

"W-what...?"

Wanda presses closer and brings her mouth to your ear. "Just stop overthinking it and accept the gift, detka."

With encouragement, she bites the lobe of your ear, and you give up resisting.

With a tug on her waist, you bring your mouths together in a kiss much hungrier and more passionate than the first, which elicits loud, almost primal moans of need from both of you. Wanda pushes and pulls, and by the time you stumble to the back of the living room couch, your pants are already open and there's nothing covering your torso; much like the woman in front of you, who as soon as she throws you sitting up against the cushions, your breathing out of rhythm and your lips swollen from kissing hard, makes a show of removing the rest of her clothes.

She has time to smile mischievously at your look of pure adoration at her completely naked body in front of you before you pull her onto your lap by her thighs. Wanda climbs on you with a needy grunt, burning from the inside out in anticipation for you to touch her again.

Your touches are almost desperate, your kisses mark her skin. It is your gift, but you also seem determined to make sure that Wanda has the memory of this morning for quite some time. 

When your mouth closes around her nipples, she whimpers to the ceiling, arching her back and steadying her hands in your hair, a soft plea that you not stop.

"Yes, baby, just like that." She encourages over the stimulation on her nipples, breaking into an excited whimper when you simply use your free hand to masturbate her. At any other time, you would have taken your time to work her up until she was begging for your touch, but now, in the urgency you two were sharing, it wasn't necessary. She was ready for you. 

Your fingers penetrate her without delay, and Wanda digs her nails into your shoulder, breaking into a breathless moan. You give one last hickey on her hardened nipple before you move your face back up to hers, kissing her with intensity as your fingers dance inside her walls with the mastery of one who has done this a dozen times, one who knows her like the palm of the hand she so deliberately grinds against in the intention of relieving herself.

"G-god, detka! Right here!" She breaks the kiss into an affected moan, practically meowing as you repeatedly hit that sensitive spot inside her. The wetness grows in your palm, Wanda oozes into you, and to help her, you bring your free hand to her hip, coordinating her movements as she begins to fail. "I-I'm going to..."

"Don't talk, show." You interrupt her with a proud little smile, moving your mouth down to bite the sensitive spots on her neck. "Come to me, baby, I've got you."

That's all she needs to reach the first climax of the morning, and she is not surprised that you don't stop at the first. Or the second, or the third.

You are on your knees on the living room floor when your first alarm goes off. Breathing as out of breath as Wanda, on the couch with her torso exposed and her legs spread from which you against your will need to remove your face to turn off the alarm when you pull away.

She covers herself when you disappear to the kitchen because she knows it's because of the flight, and when you return, the cell phone goes on the coffee table and you sit on the floor next to her on the couch. 

There is a long silent pause, where only your breaths can be heard. Wanda skirts a hickey on her own thigh and you sigh.

"We shouldn't have..." But you can't complete, it because your voice fails you as if you are going to start crying. You look away, and Wanda lets herself fall to your side on the floor, where she reaches for your hand.

"Detka, look at me." She asks, and you have to wait a moment until you sniffle and do so with difficulty.

"I told you it hurts me, Wands. I can't-" You take a deep breath. "I can't heal if this keeps happening. There’s no getting over you if we keep doing this”

She shakes her head. "I don't want you to get over me." She says and you huff, trying to pull her hand away, but Wanda squeezes. "I love you, you know I do."

"Love is not enough." You retort bitterly, your eyes filled with tears. "Loving me doesn't mean you won't hurt me. Nor that you won't ignore me. Those are just words, Wanda. I haven't felt loved by you in a long time."

She releases your hand from the shock of your words, and watches you create a physical distance between you as you walk away. You slip away to the bedroom, muttering that you need to get ready for the flight, and she tries to make a decision the whole time you are in the shower.

When you return to the room, wearing a set of travel clothes, Wanda is wearing your sweatpants and her own dress shirt. Your chest aches to see her wearing your clothes again.

"Wanda, you'd better go, my flight-"

"I love you, detka." She cuts you off with eyes bright with determination as she stares at you. You swallow dry, but can't resist when Wanda reaches up to touch your face. "I will make sure you know it. You'll know it so deeply that you'll be able to feel it in your bones. And you'll never doubt it again."

You sniffle lightly. "Wanda..."

"Don't worry about it now, detka." She interrupts you more gently, caressing your face. "Have a great trip. I'll be here when you come back home."

You sigh, and Wanda doesn't let you say anything more, kissing you in a calmer, but somehow much more intense way than before. 

She leaves the apartment before you, with a wink and a request that you call the boys before and after the flight. 

And even before she gets to the first floor, Wanda has already texted Natasha about her early retirement procedure after her well-deserved family vacation.