#sure and i’ll eat glass while i’m at it
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theslushiestnoob · 16 hours ago
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THE BOY NEXT DOOR (pt4)
Word count: 2k
Hamzah x reader
————————*:・゚✧*:——————————
The next few days passed in a blur - some more interactions with Hamzah, some more errands to run, and ,somehow, it was the night before we left for Croatia.
I was neatly stacking my clothes into my suitcase, my feet folded under me as I sat on the floor, when I heard the knock. I trudged to the door, shielding my eyes from the late afternoon light streaming in through the open window and casting a golden hue throughout the apartment.
Opening the door, my eyes fell upon a tall, curly-haired boy. A beanie was pulled low against his brow, a few loose curls escaping it and framing his angular features. He scrubbed a hand against his firm jaw, smirking as he locked eyes with me.
‘Oh. It’s you.’ I turned, beginning to walk back to my room and continue packing.
‘I just love your enthusiasm to see me, girlfriend!’ Hamzah said chirpily.
‘Nope! None of that, please. Not when it’s just us,’ I called over my shoulder, waving Hamzah away as he followed me into my room. As he crossed through the doorway, his gaze darted from wall to wall, taking in all of the decor. He seemed awed, looking at the trinkets on my desk to the spines of the books on my shelves.
‘First time you’ve been in a girl’s room for a while, huh?’ I teased, settling back down on the floor. Hamzah chuckled, crossing his hands across his chest and leaning against the door.
‘First time I’ve been in one this chaotic, that’s for sure.’
‘Unfair. I’m packing. Why are you here, anyway?’ I asked, agitated and unsure how he had found his way into my room.
‘I wanted to ask you on a date, he replied coolly, spinning the ring on his finger.
I almost dropped the pair of sandals I was holding in shock, before I remembered our arrangement.
‘As practice?’ I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
‘Obviously. I just think we should go on a proper date, it’ll probably be better practice than anything else we’ve tried.’
I thought about it for a second.
‘Fine. But help me pack, first.’ 
*
After a short car ride of bickering over the radio, we finally reached the restaurant Hamzah had wanted to come to. I had changed before we left - ditching my boy shorts and hoodie for a pair of dark denim jeans and a fitted blue shirt. Standing on the pavement outside, I looked up at the building, a cursive sign denoting the place to be Enzo’s italian ristorante. Fairy lights draped from the branches of two blossoming trees cast the facade in an ethereal glow against the dim, pale light of the moon.
It was beautiful. I was slightly surprised that Hamzah had taken me here, I had honestly been expecting a fast food place where we’d eat in the car. I began to walk toward the large double doors of the restaurant, Hamzah beside me. As we reached the entrance, Hamzah pushed open the door and pressed his other hand to the small of my back to guide me inside. I instinctively flinched away from him, swatting his hand away and scrunching my brow in distaste.
He leaned into my ear, whispering in a hushed voice, ‘Nuh-uh. As far as anyone knows, we’re dating. You have to act like it, not how you normally do, you have to sell it.’
I raised my eyebrows. Was that a challenge?
‘Oh I’ll sell it alright,’ I murmur, pushing my way through the door and striding up to the desk.
‘Hi there!’ I greet the waiter, turning to face Hamzah beside me. ‘Honeybuns, do we have a reservation?’ I asked, looping my hands around his bicep and resting my head on his shoulder. I plastered a cheesy smile onto my face, turning back to the server. Hamzah stammered for a moment, his eyes darting between my face and my hands.
‘Yes, we do,uhh… baby,’ he said, turning to tell the server his reservation. The man nodded, and led us to our table.
‘Can I get you started with any drinks?’
‘Ooh,’ I say, ‘I’ll have a glass of wine, please.’
‘Which o-’ the waiter begins before he is interrupted.
‘Hold on, sugar. Are you sure you should be drinking, you know, with the baby?’ Hamzah said, resting his hand on mine outstretched on the table. I gritted my teeth, shooting him a lethal death stare.
‘Of course, you’re right, babe,’ I managed through my scowl. ‘Just two cokes then, please,’ I asked the waiter, who promptly whisked away with our order.
I threw my hands up in the air and glared at Hamzah, who was laughing to himself.
‘Great, so now I have to get through this sober, too,’ I grumbled.
Hamzah’s smile stretched further into a grin. ‘Two can play at your game, y/n.’
*
After placing our orders, the conversation flowed somewhat freely. It didn’t feel like a real date, the tension that always hung between us was ever present, yet I could somewhat relax in the ease of conversation. Hamzah was talking about cats when I spotted the waiter coming towards us with our food, and I decided to swiftly change the topic.
‘Oh, baby, my legs are still aching after last night. I could hardly stand after you-’ the waiter reached our table, a mortified expression on his face. ‘Oh! Thank you!’ I said innocently, shooting a smug grin at Hamzah, who seemed equally as shocked. 
‘Sorry if you overheard that,’ I said to the waiter, ‘but can you blame me? Look at this handsome face!’ I reached across the table and took Hamzah’s face in my hands, squeezing his cheeks into a pouty expression.
‘If you think that’s impressive, you should see his-’
‘Okay!’ Hamzah interrupts. ‘Thank you, everything looks perfect.’ He nodded curtly at the waiter, who seemed extremely relieved to be dismissed.
‘Christ, y/n, you’re going to get us thrown out,’ he whispered, a simultaneously amused and shocked expression on his face. 
I laughed in response, turning my attention to my meal and plotting how I could one-up his antics. 
‘So…’ Hamzah started, breaking the silence that had settled between us. ‘Do you really think I’m handsome?’
I rolled my eyes.
‘I hate you,’ I said with a sigh.
*
We had enjoyed our meals, and the lateness of the evening combined with the amount of food we had eaten was beginning to take its toll on both of us. I yawned, and Hamzah took that as an indication to get ready to leave. I looked up at him, a glint of mischief in his dark eyes, and sighed in anticipation.
‘My angel honey bear, I love you so much, and there’s something I have to do before we go.’
I watched intently through narrowed eyes as Hamzah rose from his seat and moved to stand beside me.
‘I have loved you since the moment I saw you, my pretty princess.’ He placed a hand on my knee, lowering himself to the ground. My mouth dropped open in shock, not believing that he had taken it this far.
‘y/n, will you ma-’
‘Get up.’ I whispered through gritted teeth, a faux smile plastered on my face as I looked around at everybody watching us. Hamzah conveniently ignored me, reaching into his jeans pocket. He pulled out a silver ring, one which I had noticed on his hand earlier. Bastard.
‘Will you marry me?’ He continued, looking up at me in a display of faux apprehension.
I glanced around at the room of expectant people watching us, and almost kicked Hamzah right in front of them. I had to play along, to win the challenge he and I had almost wordlessly set ourselves. I couldn’t let him win.
‘Yes!’ I exclaimed, in far too high a pitch. 
Cheers erupted throughout the room as I offered Hamzah my hand. He slid the ring onto my finger and it was, of course, far too big. He rose to his feet, sweeping me up into his arms and whisking me out of my seat. He laughed in my ear as he swayed me from side to side.
‘I think I won,’ he taunted in a sing-song voice.
‘I’m going to kill you.’ I threatened. ‘I don’t even wear silver, you dick.’
He set me down on the floor, pressing a kiss to my temple as he waved to the onlookers. I buried my head in his shoulder, giggling. In this moment, the euphoric high of deception and good humour tethered me to him - our joint laughter intoxicating and joyous. He wrapped his arms around me, encircling me in an embrace, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged.
*
‘Definitely worth it for a free dessert, I have to admit,’ I said through a mouthful of fudgy brownie.
‘Mhm,’ Hamzah replies, chewing on a spoonful.
After the fake proposal, our waiter brought over a huge plate of dessert, which we had already demolished.
‘Okay but seriously, be at mine at 5am so we can go to the airport. Mandy and Martin are going to pick us up from the airport in Croatia, so as soon as the plane lands we need to be locked in,’ Hamzah told me, an intensely serious look in his deep brown eyes.
‘Right. Haven’t I proven tonight that I’m good at this?’
‘I have to admit you are, but when you’re not acting you give off this repulsed vibe that won’t help our case.’ He said, pursing his lips in thought.
I raised an eyebrow at him.
‘Girl, you know I’m right.’
I scoffed and shook my head, muttering ‘Sassy man apocalypse…’ under my breath.
*
Trudging up the stairs to our floor, a comfortable silence settled over Hamzah and I - slightly breathless from the steps but also not feeling the need to speak. I trailed behind him as he stepped onto the landing, pausing to turn back at me.
‘I had a good time tonight, you’re actually not unbearable,’ I told him.
‘You’re so nice to me,’ Hamzah replied sarcastically with a cheesy smile. I giggled into my hand, reaching into my bag to grab my keys.
‘Hold on,’ Hamzah interrupted, closing the distance between us in a single stride. He took my hand in his, lowering it to my side, and placed the other on my jaw. I almost recoiled from his searing hot touch, but something in his eyes rooted me to the spot, transfixing my gaze onto his.
‘I think we should practise one more thing…’ he whispered, almost inaudibly, as his gaze flitted to my lips.
‘Hmm? And what’s that?’ I said coyly, widening my eyes as I wetted my lips with my tongue. Hamzah’s gaze fixed onto the action, swallowing a lump in his throat as he watched. He pressed himself closer to me still, further entangling his fingers with mine. He looked into my eyes for a moment before pressing his lips to mine. He cradled me against him, his large hand roving up my back and pulling me in even tighter. His mouth moved against mine with experienced skill - he was clearly well practised. Something about this realisation caused a tightening in my gut. Jealousy? Attraction? My mind was becoming more like mush every moment his lips were on mine, making it impossible to identify. My fingers tangled in his unruly curls, gently angling his head to fit better against mine. He let out a soft grunt as I ran my hands across his scalp, causing the fire in me to burn even brighter. Just then, Hamzah broke the kiss, dropping his hands from the embrace and returning his gaze to my eyes. His slightly flushed face and swollen lips made my stomach flutter, his hooded eyes on mine unbearably attractive. 
‘How was that?’ He whispered against my face, slightly breathless.
‘Actually not unbearable,’ I replied, biting my lower lip and smiling up at him mischievously. 
The grin he gave me confirmed everything I had been doubting. This boy would be the death of me.
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lucky-clover-gazette · 9 months ago
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i’d be such a girlfriend. like i’d go so hard on the girlfriending. absolutely tragic that no one is currently girlfriended by me
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indulgentdaydream · 7 months ago
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headcanons with attractive things jason does 😭🫶
anon i have GOT YOU
When he sits on a couch, no matter if you’re on too or not, that man is SPREAD
Arms wide and resting on the back of the couch. Manspreading his thighs wide open. A relaxed expression on his face. Maybe a book in hand.
When moving in for a kiss, he cups your face with his left hand first. Then strokes his thumb on your cheek twice while actually kissing you.
Every. Single. Time. Doesn’t matter where or when. If it’s just a peck or y’all are making out, that’s what he starts it with.
Kisses on the back of your neck if he’s walking past you and you’re looking down.
Also will keep his hands resting on your hips if standing behind you.
He’ll swear UP AND DOWN that he means nothing by it. That it’s just a habit. But will keep a hand on your thigh while driving a car. Not even sexual. Just comforting.
Opening doors for you and guiding you through with a hand on the small of your back
You’re both sleeping in the same bed? He’s dead asleep. Usually isn’t. But with you, for sure he is.
And if you slip out of his reach while he is dead asleep, he’s reaching out and dragging you back like a lost teddy bear. And he’s asleep the whole time
When you’re out eating or at a bar and he’s getting a bit anxious with all the people around, he’ll play footsies with you under the table
Got so intense once he accidentally knocked the table over and you two got kicked out
This man LAUGHS
No one talks about how Jason’s laugh (may have a fic in the works about it. I’ll finish it if y’all ask)
I’m not talking “he chuckled” or “he grinned” or “his shoulders shook with silent laughter”
I’m talking about how this man tosses his head back before leaning forward, clutching his stomach with one hand, the other reaching for some part of you to grasp as you laugh along with him. How his laughter is deep and BOOMING. It takes up a whole room. Echoes across the street. Enters your ears and melts into your blood stream and goes immediately to your heart which picks up its beating to make sure to get it to the rest of your body. How he straightens up again, his face split in a grin, eyes opening again while he has to wipe away tears of laughter, his body still shaking with it.
I want to make jason todd genuinely laugh and if the sound makes me go deaf then so be it because at least i was able to hear the most beautiful sound in the universe
I’m sorry this got off topic but
He wears glasses when he reads and that’s hot too i guess
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chlorinecake · 1 month ago
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A SUCKER FOR THE TASTE ✦— 𝐋.𝐇𝐒
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▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader
▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au
▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…
▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all
▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1
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YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.
Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.
“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”
“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”
Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…
… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.
Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…
Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.
Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—
“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.
“Did you just… growl at me!?”
“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.
Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.
“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.
“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.
“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…
Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.
“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”
“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”
You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—
“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.
“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.
The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—
“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.
You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.
“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”
“Really?”
“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.
That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”
“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—
“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”
Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now
“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”
“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.
And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…
The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.
But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.
The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.
“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.
You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—
“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.
And that’s when you felt it…
The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…
You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.
Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…
You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.
“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.
You knew what was happening right now..
Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…
FLASHBACK —
“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”
“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.
“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”
“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”
His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.
“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”
“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.
He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.
“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.
“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”
What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…
Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.
But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…
Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…
“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—
“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.
“So what?”
“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”
“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”
“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”
Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”
You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”
“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.
“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips. 
Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.
“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.
Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.
“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.
“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.
And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.
The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.
He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.
Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...
Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—
“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”
“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”
All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.
“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”
“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.
But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.
And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.
It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.
His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.
You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.
You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…
“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.
“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”
“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.
Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…
Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.
He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.
He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…
Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.
Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.
“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”
“Love it when you come all over my face.”
“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”
“So so beautiful, and just for me.”
“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”
“You taste so fucking divine...”
“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”
He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”
But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.
A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”
“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…
That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.
“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.
“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”
“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.
“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.
Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.
“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.
“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”
It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…
You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…
You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”
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⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!
⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:
@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash
@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl
@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr
⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:
@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs
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@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings
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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months ago
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angel of a daughter
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words: 2.2k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, stepcest, stepdad!rafe, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, female receiving oral, fingering, breeding, fertility issues (from mother), reader is described as having big boobs, kinda pregnancy kink from rafe but more talk of sex while pregnant, cheating (no daddy kink)
“i got the results back.” your mom says, her voice low and sad, revealing her results with her tone alone. “the doctor says theres no way.” “i’m sorry, mama.” you pout, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. you hate that you feel a bit of relief. your mom had you young, a teenager knocked up by another teenager who ran off the second he heard his girlfriend got pregnant.
your mom raised you until you were a teenager yourself, doing everything by herself until your stepdad came into the picture. he inserted himself perfectly into your life, but expected to have kids of his own.
“whats the plan then?” you question as your stepdad comes into the living room, setting a glass of water down in front of your mom. you sit on either side of her, showing your support. “adoption? surrogate?” 
you like being an only child. you like it just being you, mom, and rafe, but at the same time, you want your mom to be happy, and if a baby gives her that, you'll adjust for her.
“actually…” rafe clears his throat. “we were hoping you’d be willing to help out.”
“yeah, of course.” you nod. “anyway i can.” 
you don’t realize what rafe means until later. you assumed it was just help researching adoption agencies, or finding a surrogate, but as rafe hovers over you, you realize he means to breed you.
“m-my mom can’t be okay with this.” you stutter out, body stiff against the bed, trapped as you blink up at rafe, body caging you over the mattress.
“she thinks you’re going to get inseminated.” he huffs out, breath warm against your face. “and in a way you are. a natural way.”
“i-i-” you stutter out. “i don't know about this.”
“come on, i see the way you look at me.” rafe shifts his weight to one hand, gliding down the other down your torso, squeezing your hip gently. “i know you want this.”
“you're married to my mom!” your eyes are wide, but a spark does ignite inside of you. “you're my stepdad!”
“and you’re going to be doing both of us such a big favor, pretty girl.” rafe coos, his fingers running along the material of your shorts, stroking closer and closer to your center every time.
“i-i guess it would be easier than going to a doctor.” you’re sure it involves waivers and legal shit that your mind just can’t even wrap around.
“exactly!” rafe smiles down at you, glad for your naivety. “besides, im making you feel good... you’ll get pregnant, and both of us will feel real good.”
“how many times will we get to do it?” you whisper, hands reaching up to touch rafes cheeks, running your finger down the smooth planes. “like, it probably won’t take the first time.”
“as many times as we have to babygirl. and i’ll take real good care of you during your pregnancy. rub your feet, buy whatever you are craving, eat you out.” rafe loves the way your eyes blow wide.
“thats not appropriate!” your mom has lectured you long and hard about sexual experiences and above all how important it is to wait so you don’t become pregnant young like she did. and now she is asking you to allow your stepdad to breed you when you’re freshly out of your teen years.
“its okay, its just you helping us out so im helping you back out in return.” rafe moves his hand up to cup your cheek. “let me show you.”
he leans down to press your lips together in a kiss. you lay frozen for a moment before beginning to move back, reciprocating the kiss as your hands fist into his shirt, tugging him lower.
you let out a moan into his mouth and rafe has to pull away to chuckle. “see, i knew you wanted me babygirl.”
“yeah.” you nod. “okay, lets do this.” damn the consequences, you can think about them later.
“good.” he coos out, lips back against yours quickly as his hand gropes at your breast, rubbing them through your tanktop. you’ve always been insecure about the size of your chest, but as rafe lowers down to look at them, you think about them in a whole new light.
“these are gonna feed our baby so well.” he says, tugging at the hem of your shirt, lower and lower until it breeches the swell of your breasts and they pop out the top. you don’t ask who he means by ‘our’. you can indulge in the fantasy that it’s just you and rafe. that your mom is still in the picture, but only in the role as your mother, not the one of rafes baby. 
rafe wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking deeply into his mouth, so in contrast to what it must feel like to have an infant feeding.
“i-more.” you gasp out as rafes fingers play with your other nipple, rolling and pinching at it until they’re both stiff peaks.
“i can’t wait to fuck you baby.” rafe says, helping you sit up just slightly to pull your shirt off, the small pajama shorts the only barrier you have left on your body. rafe also tugs his shirt off. you’ve seen him shirtless before in the pool or on your boat, but its different in this low lighting, so intimate and close. 
“gonna eat your pretty pussy first though.” rafe tugs your shorts down, your thighs pressing together to allow you to keep that part of yourself hidden for a moment longer, before rafe is pushing at your legs and slotting himself onto the bed in between them.
“aww.” rafe smiles, looking much more like a boy your age with his grin rather than your stepfather. “i knew she’d be cute.” his hands stroke over your inner thighs. “have you ever had a guy eat your pussy before?”
“no.” you shake your head. “never done anything with a guy.” you’ve kissed past boyfriends, but it never went beyond that.
“im gonna be your first?” theres a spark in rafes eye when he realizes that you’re a virgin. that he’s going to deflower you, fill you up. 
“y-yeah.” you nod. 
rafe wants you to cum once with his mouth and fingers first to open you up and get you wetter before he fucks you, so he wastes no more time, pushing his face forward between your legs, tongue swiping over your folds as you scream out in pleasure. 
rafe is glad as your moans increase with every flick of his tongue and glide of his lips that he chose to sneak into your room in a time when your mom was gone, off to the spa with her girlfriends, no doubt sharing to them her recent doctors trip and how her angel of a daughter agreed to be a surrogate so her and rafe could have a baby of their own.
“you taste so good.” rafe says. he isn’t one to enjoy giving head often, but you really are the sweetest taste on his lips. he focuses in on your clit as your entire body stiffens before relaxing, sighing out as your head becomes fuzzier and fuzzier with every touch of rafes mouth.
“do you touch yourself here?” rafe asks, pressing kisses to your clit, making out with it just like he did you mouth.
“no.” you shake your head. you occasionally grinded yourself into a pillow stuffed between your legs to get off when you got too overwhelmed, but you never reached your hand in your pants to feel yourself.
“what about here?” rafe brings his hand to your cunt, finger circling around your entrance.
your eyes widen again, that gloriously innocent startled look that has rafe grinding into the bed to give his cock some sort of relief.
“never!” you shake your head.
rafe just smiles, going back to focusing on your clit as his finger pushes in. you’re so wet it’s not difficult at all, but he can feel the way you squeeze around his digit, getting used to the feeling of the intrusion.
“relax for me, princess.” rafe says, sucking at your clit as he begins to move his finger in and out until he’s able to easily pump, the delicious squelching of your wetness filling the room with his every movement.
“gonna add a second, okay?” rafe talks you through the process, not wanting to do something to scare you into changing your mind. “gotta open you up for my cock, baby.”
rafe pushes a second finger into your entrance, working you open until he feels your body stiffen, his concentration going to your clit as he works you through your orgasm, your high so suddenly breeching that your body locks up and you let out a scream.
“shh, i got you.” rafe kisses along your mound as you work through it, pussy clenching around his fingers as he scissors them, knowing he needs you looser to fit inside.
“that-” you gasp out, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “that was so good.” “yeah?” rafe smiles up at you. “i can keep helping you feel that way, baby.”
“mhm.” you nod, not sure how you’ll ever go without now that you’ve felt the high that rafe can get you.
“can i fuck you now?” he questions. as much as he’s ready to go right now, if he has to build you up to allow him inside bare, he would wait.
“yeah.” your voice is dripping with eagerness. “yeah, yes please. just need a drink of water first.”
you sit up slightly, going to reach for your water bottle on your bedside table, but rafe moves quicker, helping you bring the bottle to your lips and suck the water down, pulling away with a gasp as a drop of water glides down your chin, reaching your throat before rafes tongue is on your skin, tasting the sheen of sweat as he follows the wet trail up to your lips, kissing you to keep your mind occupied.
he works his pants and underwear off while you’re wrapped up in the kiss, your hands stroking through his hair, playing with the strands. 
rafe moves your legs to wrap around his hips as he holds onto his cock, swiping it through your folds. he taps the head against your sensitive swollen clit, making you pull away with a gasp.
“stay nice and relaxed for me, baby.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your jaw as he lines up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, your eyes clenching shut as your chest moves up and down with each breath, trying to keep your body relaxed like rafe said.
“there ya go.” rafe says, halfway inside your cunt. “good girl.”
he pushes as far in as your pussy allows, both of you sitting in that moment, relishing in the feeling of being joined together as you stretch to accommodate his large length, shifting your hips side to side and up and down to get used to the feeling.
“i gotta move, baby.” rafe says, his voice sounding strained.
“yeah, go ahead.” you nod. despite your affirmation, rafe continues to move slowly, his hips swinging back before pressing forward, carefully building up a rhythm.
“it feels really good.” you tell rafe, your cheeks flushed bright pink, hair fanned out on the pillow around you like a glowing halo.
“yeah, yeah.” rafe nods rapidly, his grip on control quickly loosening. “you feel so good too.”
rafe knows he should stop, but he loves the way your body reacts to his dirty words. “you’re so tight around me. i love this pussy. so much better than your mamas. gonna give me a baby, right?”
“i-yeah.” you nod. “fill me up.”
rafes loosening control shatters, his hips swinging forward fast, burying his cock inside of you as the pace instantly triples. you let out a squeal, the sheets gripped in your hands as he pounds into you.
“gonna fill up your pretty little cunnie, baby.” rafe grunts out, his own forehead sheening with sweat from his effort, his muscles straining as he pushes up then down, up then down.
“want it so bad.” you whine. 
“fuck.” rafe gasps out, mouth dropping open, his lips shiny from eating you out. “can’t last much longer. gonna cum.”
you experiment, clenching your pussy around his cock, and judging by rafes reaction of a loud moan and curse, you can tell he likes it. you continue, squeezing every time he pulls out, wanting to keep his cock wrapped in your warmth.
“i-im cumming.” rafe gasps out, his cock growing inside of you before your eyes widen, suddenly feeling warmth spreading as his cum fills you, his cock pressing in even harder, hoping it reaches your womb.
“god.” rafe groans, lowering his body on top of yours, but you don’t care about the weight as you smile.
“we’re gonna keep doing that?” you ask, running your hand down his back.
rafe looks up at you. “oh, of course baby. gonna keep fucking you while you’re pregnant too, maybe you’ll give us twins.”
you roll your eyes and giggle at rafe. “thats not how it works, silly!” “oh, what do you know?” rafe smirks at you. “you haven’t even had sex before!”
“well… i have now.” you mumble, shifting your hips from side to side, rafes cock still lodged deep inside of you.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra
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lotusunique · 1 month ago
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Kiss & Makeup
The reader and Nicholas get into a petty argument they decide to squash one way or another.
Nicholas Chavez x Fem! Reader!
Smut Warning, Praise Kink!
You silently held your breath ,seething with rage. You knew Nicholas could tell you were pissed off. The silence that consumed the black suburban truck on the ride to you guys shared house was obvious enough.
“Are you gonna talk or just continue with the silent treatment ?”, he asks following you into the house.
“Depends. You gonna pretend like you weren’t eye fucking the waitress back there?”, you say, not looking at him and placing your bag onto the counter top of your kitchen .
“Oh my god. Here we go with the jealousy.” , He rolls his eyes. “So I’m jealous because you like to eye fuck waitresses while I’m sitting right across from you?”,You let out a loud cackle. Stunned at the audacity he had.
“Y/n. She was taking our order. All she did was bring out our food. You’re always acting crazy”,He groans. “Now you’re saying I’m a crazy bitch. Got you”,You nod before giving a tight lipped smile and grabbing a bottle of wine from your liquor cabinet. The only thing that might make you calm down was a glass of red. He lets out a scoff
“I am so sick of this petty bullshit Y/n.”,He yells over at you. “And you don’t think I’m sick of your bullshit. You think cause you’re soooo’ fine you can do whatever the fuck you want”,you yell back before chugging the wine.
“I never said I can do whatever I wanted. You really think that just because girls flirt with me that it means I’m gonna go be with them?”, he runs his hands through his hair, obviously stressed by the conversation.
You make your way over to him, “And I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”, you step into his space. You see him go to open his mouth with a smile on his face before he closes it. “Don’t”,you warn him.
“All that jealousy shit is just rooted in the idea that you don’t think anyone can love you.”,he fires back. You eye him, letting your mouth drop open.
“You know what Nicholas. Fuck you”, the bitter words drip off your tongue . “No, Y/n. Fuck you.”,he shouts. It only takes a second for you to realize how attractive he looks. You forgot he was sexy when he’s mad.
The air thickens as the tension between you two surrounds you. Within an instant he smashes his lips against yours, your hands making their way through his hair as his make their way down your body.
You feel his hands at the brim of your thighs and a loud rip at the bottom of your dress. You pull away from his kiss before raising an eyebrow.
He leans into you, his lips brushing softly against your ear and cheek.“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll buy you a new one”,He says before making a trail of soft kisses down your neck while ripping up the dress again.
He softly rubs his fingers against your pussy lips before entering two into you, causing you to let out a loud moan. He quickens the pace, watching you become a mess all at his hands.
He picks you up, and lays you on the granite kitchen island before starting the process all over again. “Mannn nobody eating on here for weeks”, you think to yourself, internally chuckling.
This time he attaches his mouth to your clit, sucking whilst putting two fingers into you like before. It drives you crazy and causes you to scream out in pleasure. “Fuck! Yes oh Yes!”,you yell out as your orgasm comes to a crashing high.
“You okay baby?”,he laughs at the state your in. “Un huh. I’m great”,you breathe heavily. “Okay good”,He smiles a mischievous look spreading across his face.
He lines himself up at your entrance, flashing you a look to make sure you’re ok with this.
You nod, giving him an “I’m sure” look.
He traces his tip up and down the opening your pussy.
“Please stop teasing me”,You plead, impatiently wanting him. “You’re so pretty when you beg”, he smiles looking down at you. “Let me hear it one more time gorgeous and I’ll consider it.”,he flashes those perfect teeth of his down at you.
He enters you slowly at first before picking up the pace,causing you to let out multiple moans as he lets out a few groans.
You arch your back as the pulsing sensation overtakes your body, your pussy clenching at the rough yet amazing feeling. The feeling seemed to be over taking your body as every inch went further and further inside you.
“This is what you wanted right baby?”,he says sensing you’re getting closer and closer. “Yes Baby.”,you struggle to voice. “It’s okay gorgeous you can let it out”,he smiles down, watching the sight of you.
“You look so pretty when you take it”, He places a kiss upon your lips and that’s all it takes to send your orgasmto screaming high.
His does the same as the two of you pant and attempt to catch your breath.
“Whew”, you sit up, hugging him tightly. “Bet you the waitress wishes she was me just now because damn”,You laugh aloud.
“Would you hush and kiss me woman.”, Nicholas smiles at you before you lean up to kiss him.
Hey guys! I have 2-3 more coming out! I hope you guys liked this one ♥️🙂
Taglist: @penny44224 @luv-alicia @syraxnyra @piscesprincessworld @vdotcom @aaliyahsroses @tragicdiary @scknights @aegonsslxt @kingdomswifft @jaylalolz @elthoughtzos
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pastryfication · 2 months ago
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oscar taking care of his girlfriend who’s suffering with nausea and dizziness. like he helps her around the house, brings her food, turns into her personal blanket… i am a sucker for sweet bf oscar piastri
i’ll always take care of you
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pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: haven’t proofread this so i apologise for any mistakes!! hope you like it <33
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oscar had always been attentive—the most observant and caring boyfriend you’ve ever had—but today he seemed to have turned his attentiveness into a whole new art form.
you’d been feeling unwell since the morning—waves of nausea and dizziness that left you unsteady on your feet and far too tired to do much more than rest on the couch. he noticed the moment he saw you, a concerned frown creasing his brow as he knelt beside you.
“hey, you okay?” he asked softly, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.
you managed a small smile, though it was weak. “just feeling a bit off. dizzy and nauseous. i think i might need to rest.”
oscar’s frown deepened as he nodded immediately. “okay, you stay right there,” he said firmly, standing up. “i’ll get you some water and maybe something light to eat, just in case.”
he moved around the kitchen with a quiet efficiency, fetching a glass of cold water and preparing a small plate of plain toast. when he returned, he set everything down on the coffee table beside you and sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your face.
“here,” he murmured, holding the glass to your lips. “just sip a little, don’t force it.”
you did as he said, taking small sips of water, grateful for his patience. oscar watched you with that focused expression he usually reserved for the track, like nothing else mattered but making sure you were okay. after a few sips, you leaned back, closing your eyes as another wave of dizziness washed over you.
“this feeling sucks,” you muttered, frustrated with how your body seemed to betray you. “i can’t even stand up without feeling like i’m going to fall over.”
oscar shook his head and slid an arm around your shoulders, gently guiding your body to rest against him. “you’re just not feeling well, love, and that’s okay. i’m here to help, alright?”
you sighed, leaning into his warmth, your head resting on his shoulder. “don’t you have something better to do?”
oscar’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. “you’re not a burden if that’s what you think.” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “i want to take care of you. it’s what i’m here for.”
he rubbed your back soothingly, his touch light and comforting. he held you like that for a while, his body warm against yours, his steady breathing helping to calm the spinning sensation in your head. you felt a little better, enough to open your eyes and look up at him.
“thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft. “you’re too good to me.”
he smiled, his hand moving to gently stroke your hair. “you deserve it,” he replied. “and besides, i kind of like holding you like this.”
you laughed softly, the sound weak but genuine. “oh, yeah? planning to keep me warm and cozy forever?”
oscar’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with affection. “that’s the plan,” he said. “but first, let’s get you to the bedroom so you can lie down properly.”
he stood up slowly, snaking his arms around your body to lift you bridal style. his touch was gentle, as if you were made of glass, and when you held onto his bicep for safety when he started moving, he smiled softly down at you.
when you finally reached the bed, he helped you sit down and then guided you to lie back, adjusting the pillows behind you. he pulled the blanket up over you and tucked it around your sides, his hands smoothing the fabric with a tenderness that made your heart swell.
“do you want anything else?” he asked softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “more water? a different snack? i can get you whatever you need.”
you shook your head. “just . . . stay with me?”
oscar’s expression softened, and he nodded immediately. “of course,” he said, climbing into the bed beside you. he shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest.
his warmth seeped into you, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm beneath your ear. he held you like that, like you were something precious and fragile, his fingers tracing light patterns along your arm. every so often, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring softly about nothing in particular—little stories, jokes, anything to distract you from the discomfort.
you felt yourself relaxing more, the dizziness fading slightly with the comfort of his touch and his presence. you closed your eyes, breathing in his scent, and felt a small smile form on your lips. “i’m so lucky to have you,” you murmured sleepily.
oscar’s arms tightened around you just a little bit more, his lips brushing against your hair. “no,” he whispered back, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “i’m the lucky one.”
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rynbutt · 7 months ago
Text
pierced. pt. 4 | spencer reid.
"Focus here, sweetie."
you can find the other parts on my masterlist.
cw: fem!reader, 18+ content, suggestive as fuck, making out, nipple stuff (my finger slipped), fluff
a/n: this made me feral
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He had been gone for weeks. 
You hadn’t seen Spencer in almost four weeks after your little date at his desk. Case after case came through and he and his team were sent all over the country. You came to understand that Spencer’s job was hectic, wondering how any of them had social lives at all with how often they were called into work only to disappear for days or weeks at a time.
Spencer had called you a handful of times while he was in Illinois, telling you all about the UnSub they caught while you were half asleep working late at your desk. But after that, it was radio silence from Spencer and you could only assume he was neck deep in work just like you. 
You sat at your desk, leaning back in your chair with a loud sigh. You were sure your boss had it out for you, given how you were basically the last one in the office trying to finish up a project. You tried to take it as a compliment that they trusted you to handle these things but god you just wanted to go home, pour a glass of wine, put on a face mask and pretend to have your shit together.
The exhaustion made your eyelids feel heavy and your vision blurry. You let out a tired yawn, attempting to blink away the deep desire to crawl under your desk and nap. The sudden buzz of your phone kept you from nodding off at your computer.
Spence: Are you home?
You: Nah, I’m at work, sorry :(
Spence: Still? Isn’t it a bit late?
You: What can I say, I’m an ass-kisser
Spence: Have you had anything to eat?
You: Not yet, I’ll worry about that later
Spencer read your message but didn’t reply. You turned your focus back to your work, sipping on your cold coffee to hopefully bring you back to earth. After forty-five minutes and another two cups of coffee, you finally finished your project. You were in the midst of sending a half-assed email to your project manager when you heard the elevator ding.
“Is Y/N still here?” You heard Spencer’s voice and your heart fluttered.
“Oh yeah, she’s just around the corner,” one of your coworkers replied. You rolled your chair back from your desk, peering around the corner as a lost little Spencer looked around.
“Spencer?” You called softly. His eyes darted to the sound of your voice, his face lighting up at the sight of you. He looked so precious in his sweater, with his messy hair and mismatched colourful socks. He did a little run down the row of cubicles to your desk, holding a plastic bag of what you assumed was takeout. 
You stood up to greet him, the exhaustion suddenly dissipating, “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to bring you dinner,” he replied, holding the bag of the best smelling food out for you. 
You pouted at the gesture, “Spencer, you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to. As a thank you for bringing me dinner the other week,” he said with a smile. 
“Wait… how did you know where to find me?” You raised a brow at him, staring at him sideways. Spencer’s face went red, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“I’m sure you told me,” he lied.
“You’re a bad liar.”
“Garcia maybe… did some digging,” he replied under his breath, staring at everywhere but you.
You playfully punched his shoulder, “you stalker,” you laughed. 
You pulled another chair over for Spencer, sitting down at your desk and finally pulling your dinner out. You don’t know where Spencer found this food but it was probably the best thing you’d ever eaten… but you also hadn’t fed yourself in 12 hours so maybe your judgement was slightly skewed. 
“When did you get back?” you asked, mouth full of food.
“Two hours and four minutes ago,” Spencer replied, playing with the little Hello Kitty figurines on your desk. 
“Spencer!” you scolded. “You must be exhausted!”
“I’m okay, really,” he quickly said. He let out a breath, shyly avoiding your gaze, “and… I wanted to see you.”
You smiled softly at his confession, reaching over to move some of his messy hair out of his face, “you’re cute.”
“Thank you,” he beamed.
The two of you sat at your desk for another hour as you ate your dinner and finished up your passive-aggressive email to your manager. Spencer helped you clean up your small collection of mugs and carried your bag for you while you cleaned up your desk. You walked to the elevator together, reaching up to gently grasp Spencer’s hand in your own.
“This okay?” You asked.
“Y-yeah, of course,” he replied quickly, feeling his hands going clammy and praying you didn’t notice.
You were lucky you lived within walking distance to your job, it proved to be very convenient for exercise and the price of fuel didn’t murder your already dusty bank account. Spencer opted to drive you home since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. You tried to offer him cash for fuel but he waved you off (you hit twenty dollars in his glove box). 
Spencer pulled up outside your apartment building, the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence for a moment before you spoke, “you… want to come up?”
“Oh… yeah, yeah, sure I can,” Spencer replied nervously, clearing his throat.
“You don’t have to,” you laughed.
“No, no, I want to,” he said quickly, putting his car in park and taking his keys out of the ignition. 
The two of you walked up to your apartment, Tofu rubbing against Spencer’s leg upon his arrival. Spencer was delighted by this revelation (he’d done a lot of research on cats after finding out you had a cat).
“Did you know cats rub up against you like this as a way of putting their scent on you?” Spencer said, running his hand along Tofu’s back, “so other cats know you’re theirs?”
“I didn’t know that,” you lied, of course you knew. But you would never let Spencer stop talking. You shrugged off your coat, tossing it over one of the chairs at your kitchen table. “Make yourself comfy, I’m just gonna go change.”
Spencer watched as you walked to your bedroom, Tofu trotting behind you. He awkwardly shuffled around your apartment, admiring the polaroid photos stuck to your fridge of what he assumed was your friends from your hometown. He smiled softly at how happy you looked. A particular photo of you at a halloween party made his face heat up. You were wearing a white lacy bralette, a white skirt and angel wings. Your friend next to you was dressed like the devil and your other friend dressed as… the Pope?
But that’s not what caught his eye, it was the fact he could clearly see your breasts through your see through top. He could see the little gold studs on either side of your pert nipples, truly juxtaposing the whole angel costume. Spencer had honestly almost forgotten you had your nipples pierced (no he didn’t).
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” you almost scared Spencer out of his skin. He was so distracted by your… assets, he didn’t hear you leave your room.
“Uh, nothing- nothing… just this,” he grabbed the closest thing to him, which happened to be your toaster.
“My… toaster?” your eyes narrowed.
“Yup, love this model,” Spencer nodded, putting your pink toaster back down on the counter. 
You glanced at the polaroids on your fridge, deciding not to embarrass him further, “you want a drink? I have wine, wine and… wine?”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I need to drive home,” Spencer waved you off before shoving his hands in his pockets. Spencer glanced at your outfit, the baby blue tank and grey shorts made a comeback and now he was rethinking the whole ‘wanna come up?’ scheme. 
“How bout a coffee?” you asked.
Spencer gave a tight-lip smile, “Sure.”
You made Spencer his coffee and watched as he almost emptied your sugar jar. You poured yourself a glass of wine before sitting down on your plush couch, patting the spot next to you for Spencer. He sat down next to you, taking a sip of his sugar drink. He looked positively adorable drinking coffee from your Kirby mug.
“You should tell me about your recent case,” you said, tucking your legs under your butt, giving Spencer your undivided attention. 
“...You want to hear about that?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“Duh, of course,” you retorted. “I like listening to you talk, Spencer.”
Spencer’s heart quickened at your genuine words, making him beam internally and his brain turn to mush. Spencer proceeded to tell you about the BAU’s most recent case, a string of seemingly unrelated murders of college students at house parties. Your heart leapt to your throat when Spencer told you how the UnSub started shooting at him and Emily before he was arrested. 
“If you get shot, I’ll be so mad,” you told him after he finished his story.
“Okay, I’ll try not to get shot,” Spencer grinned, “so you won’t get mad.”
“Correct answer,” you nodded, downing the last of your wine. Spencer watched you as you stretched your arms over your head, a yawn pulling from your wine-stained lips. His eyes darted to your blue tank top, one of the thin straps falling off your shoulder. Your apartment was cold and your nipples pressed against the thin fabric of your top.
Spencer reached a hand over, gently lifting the strap of your top back over your shoulder, his warm hands making the hairs on your skin prickle. You glanced up at Spencer as he retracted his hand, quickling reaching your own hand out to grab his wrist.
Spencer stared at you with wide eyes, so beautiful and brown.
“Do you… want to see?” You asked quietly, your voice low.
Spencer looked at you, unsure of what you meant, “See what?”
You smiled, “My piercings,” you clarified.
Spencer felt like he exploded. His cheeks went red at the idea of seeing your breasts and the tiny intimate piercing he had only seen through your shirt and in his mind late at night. Sure, he had seen breasts before but he had never seen yours and that’s what made him nervous. 
“I know you must be curious,” you said after Spencer didn’t reply. Spencer opened his mouth, attempting to form a single coherent thought. “Earth to Spencer?” you sang softly.
“I, uhm-”
“You don’t want to?” You asked.
“No, I do!” He quickly said before the weight of what he said hit him, “Wait, no… Y/N, I like you and I don’t want you to think that I’m only here to see… that,” he gestured vaguely.
You grabbed his hand gently, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly, “I like you too, Spence,” you muttered, his eyes finally meeting yours, “and I don’t think that you’re only here for that, trust me, guys have before and you’re not them.”
Spencer felt jealousy at the thought of other men seeing such an intimate part of you nag at the back of his mind. You watched his expression change, knowing his big genius brain was in overdrive. You reached a hand up to cup his face gently, bringing his attention back to you.
“Focus here, sweetie,” you whispered with a smile.
“Sorry,” Spencer whispered back.
“I don’t have to show you if it makes you uncomfortable-”
“I am curious,” Spencer interrupted, his voice nervous and quiet. You let out an airy laugh at his sweetness and let go of his face, sitting up straight.
Spencer swallowed the painful lump in his throat as you crossed your arms, fingers grasping the hem of your tank top. His eyes never left yours as you lifted the fabric over your heart, your breasts fully on display for him to see.
It took all of Spencer’s courage to glance down.
And god you were perfect.
Your breasts were smooth and soft, your nipples hard against the chilly air of your apartment. If Spencer were any less respectable, he would be drooling. His eyes stared at the gold jewellery threaded through your hard nipples. He had never seen anything quite as attractive as this and he was sure that nipple piercings were the single greatest thing to ever exist.
“...You’re giving me the wrong idea, Spence,” you chuckled after he stayed quiet for several minutes, simply admiring your beauty.
“I-I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “You’re just…”
“Bit weird, you think?”
“Perfect,” he said, looking up at you again. “You’re just… perfect.”
A small smile graced your lips, “Do you… want to touch?”
“I-I’m not very good at… any of this,” Spencer quickly replied, all he wanted to do was impress you and this was sending him spiralling. 
“I don’t care about that, Spencer,” you grabbed his hand, “I like you, I trust you and I want it if you do.”
Spencer kept his eyes on you, “I… Yes. I want to.” He let you guide his hand to your breast. His hand was warm and large, cupping the soft plush skin gently. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt your soft skin, curious and nimble fingers exploring your skin. His thumb came up to touch the cool metal of your piercing, your breath catching in your throat at the feeling, “Sorry,” he quickly said, pulling his hand away.
“No, no, it’s okay… they’re just sensitive. An added perk of nipple piercings,” you replied. Spencer nodded, taking a mental note as his hand reached back out to touch your skin again. 
You wrapped your hand gently around his wrist, catching his attention. Spencer’s beautiful eyes stared into yours and you lost it. Your hands reached out, pulling him in by his tie to plant a hard kiss against his lips. Spencer’s hand cupped the side of your neck, tilting your head back to kiss you deeper. Your hands came to hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in his soft hair.
He pulled away to breathe, thumb stroking over your cheek, “are you okay with this?” he whispered slowly.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Then so am I.”
That was all the encouragement Spencer needed to kiss you again, pulling you closer until you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling his waist as you kissed him. You tasted slightly of wine and sweetness, the smell of your perfume sending him dizzy. Spencer’s hands came down to rest on your waist, his thumbs resting against your ribs. 
“You want to keep going?” You asked breathlessly against his lips.
“I don’t want to stop,” Spencer replied just as breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You whined softly as one of his hands reached up to grasp your breast again, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your pert nipple. 
“Spencer,” you whined, your hands grasping at the hair on the back of his neck. He planted a kiss on the column of your throat, then another to the small divot of your collarbone, and another to your sternum. His fingers gently pinched your nipple, making you whine softly. “Not good at this, my ass,” you breathed.
“I have an IQ of 187,” Spencer retorted, “I remember a lot.”
“Clearly,” you replied, lifting his head back up to kiss him again.
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a/n: i hope everyone is okay with the lack of smut, i just want everyone to feel comfy (i'll totally write it in a future chapter ;) if you want tho)
taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black
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ennabear · 3 months ago
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I really liked mean!abby, what would it be like shopping with her?
ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ EEEE i’m glad u liked mean!abby cause i crave this validation!!!! i’m making this about the kitten because i know she secretly loves it, but if you want something else lmk!!! 100% projecting here because my cats are fucking FREAKS. anyways enough yap i’ll let you read now!!!
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“aww, abby, look at this one!” you coo, the small white kitten sleepily stretches it’s arms out at the sound of your voice. abby shakes her head, “we don’t need another one.” she says coldly. the kitten rolls over with it’s stretch, showing off it’s soft white tummy. you reach out to grab abby’s shoulder in excitement, only to find her halfway down the aisle, eyebrows furrowed as she stares at her shopping list.
you give the kitten one last smile before turning to follow her, stopping to gaze at her beefy arms effortlessly lifting a heavy box of cat litter. she catches you staring, mumbling an annoyed “cmon. we have places to be.”
“what, you’re already antsy to get home and see your favorite kitten?” you tease, elbowing her in the side. surprisingly, she chuckles at this. “sure, whatever you say.” you turn the corner, eyeing a jar of catnip with a ribbon tied around it.
“fuck no.” she spits, your hand awkwardly halfway in the air as you reach for it. “oh, stop.” you roll your eyes. of course she has to say no to everything, she’s fucking glued to that damn list. “i’m serious, don’t you remember what happened last time? she jumped on top of the fridge and spilled the whole container, there was glass everywhere.”
“okay?” you laugh. “don’t you think our daughter deserves to get a little zooted from time to time? you do it practically every night, such a hypocrite.” she sighs deeply, debating the pros and cons quietly.
“fine. but if she pisses me off one more time, i’m sending her to rehab.”
“what’s that cat’s name?” you ask the cashier.
“the white one?” he gestures to the glass box behind him. “she’s meowrie catoinette, it’s here last day here before she gets sent to a shelter.” god, you’ve never heard a more perfect name. the stars are all aligning.
you grab abby’s wrist before she can swipe her card, using almost all of your upper body strength to hold it in place. “no. and i’m not gonna say it again.”
“what if they kill her, abby?” you plead. she’s not sympathetic at all, instead shrugging and wrestling against your grip on her wrist. “do they do that at the shelter?”
“there’s really no way of knowing.” the cashier answers. “once they leave here, it’s completely out of our hands.”
the kitten wakes from it’s nap at the perfect time, stretching it’s pouty mouth with a big yawn, then looking up at you and meowing. abby breaks free from your grip, swiping her card and quickly shoving it back into her wallet. “how much is she?” you ask.
“any adoptions within the last week of their residency are free. we wanna make sure these animals go home.”
“great!” you beam, “we’ll take her.”
abby’s mouth falls open at your audacity. no matter how much she says no, how hard she puts her foot down, you always find a way to beat her. she doesn’t say another word to you, not as the young man hands you a small meowing kitten in a cardboard box. not on the drive home. not while you eat dinner, your girls next to you slurping at a plate of fancy feast. not in the shower as you massage her scalp.
and it isn’t until you’re both in bed, half naked and half asleep, that she mumbles a grumpy “so this is our destiny now? to be cat moms?”
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 8 months ago
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It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[ Chapter 9 ] || [ Chapter 11 ]
Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.7K~ Tags: NO SMUT, simon is a flirt, first kiss, simon has a PIERCING, simon needed to be held okay? Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost HAS MADE THE MOVE.
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Chapter 10: SIMON?!
You had entered the pub looking for someone who you didn’t know. Unlike with John, you didn’t even have a picture of Simon’s face to go off of.
Not that you had needed one. Going inside and scanning the room, you immediately spotted a tall, blond man with a black mask holding a tumbler of whiskey. He was leaning against a back wall by the dartboard, one foot propped up on the wall behind him.
Tall, blond, and a fan of Bourbon. Check, check and check.
You had made your way over almost immediately, being greeted with a squinting of his eyes and a dipping of his head off to the side.
“You look good.” He had said before raising a finger in the air and spinning it, beckoning you to give a little spin. Which you did.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You had retorted as he pulled away from the wall and guided you to the bar, one hand on your shoulder, so he could pay you for the drink, as you had so salaciously demanded on Tinder.
After that, he took you outside, to a table in the corner of the outdoor area of the pub. He parked himself on a lone armchair, legs spread and his position relaxed, spine curled ever so slightly, to make him take up less space. As if that’s somehow possible.
Then, Simon tapped his palm on his lap, beckoning you to sit, which you did without question. His hand circled around your waist, pulling your back to press against his chest.
He felt you press your ass back against his bulge, which earned you a dark rumble of a chuckle right into your ear. “Not as shy as I expected you’d be.” He had whispered.
“You’re the one who made me sit on your lap.” You had retorted as you looked back at him, only to get your head swiveled forward once more by his firm hand on your jaw.
“Eyes forward.” He had demanded. “I wanna drink in peace.” He had told you. He was bossy, but not exactly in a bad way.
“I guess that answers my question.” You had told him as you sipped from your own glass. Behind you, Simon did the same. You could hear the ice clinking against the glass as he dipped the tumbler back to sip from.
“Which one?” He had asked after a wet swallow of his drink and smacking his lips lightly.
“If you were going to wear the mask.” You had answered.
“It’s for your own benefit.” He had retorted.
“How’s that?” You had asked, daring to turn back to look at him, only to be stopped by his firm hand on your jaw, correcting your gaze away again, wordlessly.
“I’m not exactly a pretty sight under this.” He had told you. “Would rather not scare you off.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” You had retorted. “And I doubt you could scare me off.” You added. “Though…” You had trailed off, thinking for a moment. “I won’t deny that if you’re like… super disfigured I might have a bit of a reaction to it at first.” You had told him sincerely.
That had earned you another rumble of a laugh behind you as he leaned in, pressing his chest a bit more against your back.
“Tell you what.” He had said softly in your ear. “I’ll let you have a glimpse soon enough, if the night ends up going the way I wish for it to.”
-
After a few hours getting to know each other, in which Simon kept up his promise of being honest within reason, you ended up at a McDonald’s parking lot, eating greasy food in the front seat and talking some more about all sorts of things. 
You told him about your ex, about your family, about work, about your current obsessions in a certain TV show, a certain videogame, a certain actor… And he returned with his own. Who would’ve thought that this mysterious, sort of strange, guy would like Pedro Pascal?
He made you laugh, his sense of humour extremely morbid and sarcastic and his deliveries deadpan, but just smart enough to draw laughter out of you… And whenever you retorted with a smartass comment of your own, you swore you saw him smiling… Even if the mask was in the way, the corners of his eyes crinkled.
And you made sure to dutifully look away when he loosened his neck gaiter at the bottom, in order to stick fries and nuggets and his drink straw under it…
At midnight, you found yourself being dropped off at home… And just like it happened with John, you found yourself not quite wanting the night to end…
So you invited him upstairs.
-
It’s 5 A.M. when you find yourself waking up in his arms, stirring awake ever so slightly by his movement.
The sun is starting to rise, lighting the room ever so slightly, and making it so you can kind of see a few shadows of your furniture around the room.
Bleary-eyed and groggy, you rub your eyelids, finding Simon’s silhouette still next to you and looking at you.
“You alright?” You ask him softly, receiving a soft ‘Mhm’ in return. You pull yourself away from his arms, leaning up on one of your elbows to look at him.
“Had fun last night.” He tells you as he stretches a bit. “Should probably be heading back to base in a minute, though.”
Your bare leg rubbed lightly against his thigh which was still clad in denim, a consequence of the two of you having had some sort of… sleepover. That’s the best way of putting it.
“I’m glad. I had fun too… Weirdly enough.” You reply as you start to sit up in bed as well. “Never did think I’d end up getting… laid but… not. ‘Laid together in bed’, I guess?” You joke a bit, still too groggy to really make a joke.
“Can just call it cuddling.” He replies as he pulls the covers back a bit in order to sit up and turns on your bedside table lamp, lighting the room in a warm-toned orange-y light and casting shadows further toward the door and the hall.
He still has that neck gaiter of his on over his features, or… maybe he took it off and put it back on? You can’t be sure, you were asleep.
After coming home, you talked some more, played Mario Kart on your switch, watched a horror movie, during which he complained way too much about the realism of the blood splatter and the injuries… And then you kind of… cuddled to sleep.
“I think we both needed this.” You tell him as he nods his head. “Haven’t gotten a good cuddle in… well, ages… And you’re surprisingly comfortable.” You add.
“Definitely.” He tells you, his eyes squinting a bit again. “I… like you.” He admits.
“I… Thank you?” You reply as you sit up in bed next to him, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“That felt wrong to say aloud. Felt a little bit like a little boy in the playground.” He admits and chuckles at himself.
“Yeah… Well… I like you too.” You reply and chuckle as well at how silly it feels to say it so openly.
“Of course you do.” Simon retorts, his tone still flat and deadpan even as he spoke himself up and acted cocky.
“Oh piss off, Simon… It’s too early to deal with your shit right now.” You grumble and nudge at him with your elbow.
“Oh, c’mon… You dealt with it all night last night.” He tells you as he leans over, getting his face close to yours, the neck gaiter just softly grazing against your shoulder.
“Shut up.” You reply, a smirk on your lips. His eyes crinkle into a smile as well, which makes your smirk soften into a little smile.
You gently grab his face with his hand which makes his eyes widen and, as a reflex, he grabs your wrist and stops you from pulling down/up his untucked neck gaiter and show you his face.
This had happened a couple times last night. One of which was you trying to tuck a corner of his mask into his neck had earned you a grab from him, that only relaxed when you explained your intentions.
He’s a deeply mistrusting person, you’ve noticed… And you are strangely intrigued by it.
“Relax.” You tell him. “I’m not going to pull it off.” You assure him once more, which makes him relax.
Instead, you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, right on the edge where the mask meets his cheek, your lips softly brushing the stitching of the top of the gaiter. 
His breath hitches and his eyes close for a moment, seemingly basking in the warmth of your little kiss.
As you pull back, his eyes snap open again and he rushes forward, grabbing your whole jaw with his large, rough hand before pulling your whole face toward him once more.
His other hand moves the gaiter up just enough to capture your mouth in his, but not enough to earn you a glimpse of his features. 
His mouth is warm, his lips chapped and dry to shit, and his tongue is… Is that a piercing? Your eyes double in size when your tongue rubs against the cold metal nubs of his barbell piecing.
Simon’s eyes are open too, the corners crinkled in amusement at your shocked reaction. He keeps his grip on your jaw as your eyes slowly fall closed, giving into the kiss.
It’s completely different compared to John’s kisses, or Ethan’s back when you were together. Simon kisses like he wants to take your breath away.
After a moment, he pulls back, the neck gaiter quickly falls back down to cover his face and when your eyes open, it’s as if nothing happened. Simon is up on his feet, putting on his boots and leather jacket.
“We should do this again.” Simon tells you. “I’ll text you.” He adds and winks at you before turning and walking out of your room.
After a moment, you hear the front door of your apartment close and there you are, left sitting in bed, blinking away the shock.
taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur
@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket
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writtenfangirl · 8 months ago
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Hungry For You
Another TikTok trend has sparked an idea in me.
Another (short) Charles Leclerc Fanfic
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Y/N spooned the food carefully on to the two plates, casting the hidden camera a wide grin as she did so. While the plates were similar in size, one had a significantly larger portion. The grilled chicken on one of the plates was practically the size of her palm, the pesto pasta still steaming as she dumped it on the plate. On her own plate, she placed barely a handful of food, the chicken cut into three small strips and the pasta’s serving size so tiny, not even a small cat would feel full.
“Babe, it’s time to eat!” Y/N called out as she shot her phone another wink. She’s placed the devise inside one of the cups of utensils, hidden away from Charles’ keen eyes. The camera had a full view of the kitchen island, where she and Charles frequently ate their meals when they were alone.
She heard his footsteps bounding towards the kitchen, the door to his gaming room slamming shut behind him.
“I am starving and it smells delicious.” He practically beamed at her as he took his place on the kitchen isle, oblivious to the camera that was filming his every move. “I don’t know how you manage to impress me with your cooking every time, cherie.”
“You haven’t even tasted it yet.”
“It’s pesto. I already know I’ll love it.”
Pesto pasta was one of his favorite dishes and with the aromatic smells of the basil and garlic hanging in the air, Y/N had no doubts about his statement.
She circled around the isle taking her seat next to Charles, placing the plate with the larger portions in front of him and the smaller sized portion in front of her. But Charles paid the food no heed.
He grinned up at her, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for cooking for us, cherie.”
He did this every time she cooked. Thanked her for her efforts and grinned up at her like she hung the moon and starts. And every single time, without fail, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of that smile.
She handed him his utensils, his food finally snagging his attention before his eyes wandered to her plate. He frowned at the sight of it. “Why is your food so little?”
“What do you mean?” She asked innocently as she took the pitcher of water she had set and carefully filling their glass.
“Your food, it is so little.”
“Yeah, this was all we had,” she shrugged. “I forgot to stop by the grocery store this week and this was the last of the chicken and the pasta.” She took her utensils, getting ready to dig in when all of a sudden her plate disappeared. 
“Charles? What are you doing?” Bewildered she watched as her boyfriend dumped the contents of her plate on to his already full one.
“Eat,” he said as he pushed the fully loaded plate in front of her. There was no annoyance in his eyes, no hint of his previous hunger as he looked at her in earnest, waiting for her to dig in.
“Babe, I’m not even really that hungry,” she protested. “Come on, you need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry either,” he shrugged.
Liar. He’d been complaining the whole time she was cooking about how hungry and excited he was to eat. He always got that way after a training session and he’d been training since 9AM. Whatever lunch Charles ate during a training day was usually only enough to get him going and by the time he found his way home, he was always positively starving. And Y/N knew today was no exception.
“Just five minutes ago you said you were starving,” she deadpanned.
“You spent two hours on your feet, cooking. I know how tiring that is. I really am not hungry.”
She rolled her eyes, even as love bloomed at her chest. “You came from training.”
He waved off her concerns. “I promise, I am not hungry. And tomorrow, I will go to the grocery, buy our stuff and cook you a meal.”
It was a true miracle that Y/N didn’t grab her boyfriend right then and there and drag him to the bedroom. How she managed to snag a boyfriend so thoughtful and so selfless was beyond her. “You’re sure you’re not hungry?”
He grinned at her, his voice going deep and husky as his eyes darkened. “I’m hungry for you.” He gave her what he probably thought was sultry wink but that only served to have Y/N howling in laughter.
There was no denying how in love she was with her boyfriend but she had always been immune to his attempts at flirting. His charms would no doubt have worked on other girls but Y/N only found them cute. 
She was shaking her head as she took the other plate and dumped half of the food onto it. She ignored his protesting as she pushed the other plate towards him. She had given him the bigger chunk of chicken and the bigger half of the pasta but the piles of food were still more or less equal to each other. She doubted he even noticed the slight difference, especially since she pushed the other plate far away from him. “If we’re still hungry at the end of the meal, we can go to the cafe down the street.” 
He raised a brow at her, a smirk pulling at his lips. His face was barely an inch away from her, his green eyes practically glittering as he spoke. “Is that your move, cherie? Starving a man so you can take him out on a coffee date?”
She didn’t even try to stop her laughter, not as Charles pulled her chair closer to his own until she was pressed flushed against him. His arm automatically pulled her to him, his own lips pulled into a smile before he lowered himself on to her mouth. Their kiss was sweet, as sweet as this moment was. A moment that Y/N was sure she would never forget.
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pucksandpower · 8 months ago
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Blackmail Material
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: you love your boyfriend more than life itself but who can blame you for keeping a folder of all the blackmail material he has given you over the years … just in case
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You hear a bloodcurdling scream from the other room. “Y/N! Come quick!” Charles yells.
You rush over to find him standing on top of the couch, a look of sheer terror on his face. “What’s wrong?” You ask.
He points a shaky finger at the floor. “Sp-spider!”
You look down to see a tiny little spider no bigger than a blueberry crawling across the hardwood. You have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of your brave Formula 1 driver boyfriend absolutely losing it over this tiny critter.
“Really? That’s what all the fuss is about?” You don’t bother to keep the amusement out of your voice.
“Don’t laugh!” He says indignantly. “It’s a monster! Kill it, please!”
You kneel down and take a closer look at the offending arachnid. “Aww, it’s just a little jumping spider,” you say. “It’s actually kind of cute.”
Charles makes a strangled sound of disbelief. “Cute? It’s a beast from the depths of hell! I want it gone!”
You roll your eyes affectionately. “You race cars at over 300 kilometers per hour, but you’re scared of a little spider barely bigger than a piece of lint?”
“Yes! Spiders are my worst fear. Now stop teasing me and get rid of it!” He gives you his best pleading look from his perch on top of the couch.
“Alright, alright,” you acquiesce, grabbing an empty glass from the coffee table. You gently trap the spider under it and slide a piece of cardstock underneath, trapping the spider safely.
“Is it dead? Please tell me you killed it,” Charles asks hopefully.
“Of course not, I’m just going to let it go outside. Spiders are good, they eat other bugs.”
Charles visibly shudders. “Well get it out of here! I don’t want to see it ever again.”
You carry the spider carefully to the sliding door and release it on the balcony. When you come back inside, Charles is still standing on the couch looking suspiciously around at the floor.
“The horrible beast has been banished, you can come down now,” you say.
He hesitantly steps back down onto the floor. “Are you sure it’s gone? You didn’t just give it free reign to run wild in the apartment?”
You try and fail to hold back a laugh. “Yes, I’m sure. Your life is no longer in peril.”
He narrows his eyes at you. “This isn’t funny! Spiders are evil creatures with too many legs and eyes. They should not exist.”
You go over and wrap your arms around him comfortingly, though you’re still struggling not to giggle. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. But you have to admit, it’s kind of silly that someone who races cars at death-defying speeds could be so terrified of a tiny spider.”
He huffs indignantly. “It’s a completely rational fear. They’re all legs and eyes and they move so fast and erratically and some of them can be venomous. Absolutely horrifying.”
You smile indulgently and kiss his cheek. “Okay, I get it. I promise I’ll protect you if any more evil spiders invade our home.”
“Thank you,” he says, finally relaxing into your arms now that the threat has passed.
But you just can’t resist teasing him a little more. “It was just so small!”
He pulls back and gives you an unamused look. “You’re not going to let this go anytime soon, are you?”
You grin impishly. “Letting my big macho boyfriend stand on the couch and scream because of a teeny tiny spider? Yeah, probably not gonna let you live this one down for a while.”
Charles groans. “This is so unfair. The guys will never let me hear the end of it if they find out.”
You pat his shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone that Charles Leclerc is terrified of itsy bitsy spiders.”
And if you happened to save evidence of his freak out just in case? Well … it’s not technically telling anyone unless you share the video.
***
You can’t help but grin as Charles paces back and forth in your New York hotel room, running his hands through his hair in distress.
“Chill out babe, I’m sure the airline will find your luggage soon,” you try to soothe him.
Charles whips around, eyes wide. “Chill out? How can I chill out when my La Mer is missing? Do you have any idea how long it took me to perfect my skincare routine?”
You stifle a laugh at his dramatics. “I mean, it’s just skincare products. Not the end of the world.”
“Just skincare products?” Charles looks at you in horror. “That’s like saying a Ferrari is just a car! La Mer is the cream of the crop, the holy grail of skin care! My face needs it to survive!”
You can’t hold back your grin anymore. “Wow, didn’t realize I was dating such a high maintenance diva,” you tease.
Charles huffs, crossing his arms. “I am not high maintenance, I just have discerning taste and an appreciation for quality.”
“Uh huh, sure,” you say. “Is that why you made us stop at three different Whole Foods on the way here from the airport until you found your favorite protein shake?”
“That is completely different,” Charles protests. “My skin is very sensitive, I can’t just use any old drugstore products.”
You laugh and pull Charles onto the couch next to you. “You’re cute when you pout.”
He tries to keep a straight face but ends up cracking a smile. “I can’t help it, I’m freaking out! Do you know how dry airplanes are? My skin is going to be a flaky desert by tomorrow.”
You run a hand through his hair. “Aww poor baby. However will you cope without your six hundred dollar moisturizer?”
Charles narrows his eyes at you. “You joke, but this is serious stuff. Do you want a boyfriend with wrinkles and acne?”
“I mean, a few wrinkles never hurt anyone,” you say, kissing his cheek.
He gasps dramatically. “Don’t even joke about that! I’ll be twenty seven soon, wrinkle prevention needs to start now.”
You shake your head in amusement. “Most twenty seven year olds aren’t this worried about wrinkles. But I guess Formula 1 drivers really are high maintenance.”
“With good reason! We can’t have crows feet interfering with our vision,” Charles says matter-of-factly.
You give him a look. “You’re just making things up now.”
Charles holds your hands, looking deeply into your eyes. “Mon amour, you must understand. Athletes age in dog years. We need anti-aging products just to keep up.”
You burst out laughing, shoving him playfully. “You’re so full of it!”
Charles grins cheekily. “But you love me anyway.”
You lean in and give him a soft kiss. “Yeah I do. Even if you are a high maintenance diva.”
Charles puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I thought girlfriends were supposed to be supportive! My skincare is obviously very important to me.”
You snuggle up next to him, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Tell me all about this super special moisturizer.”
His eyes light up. “Well first of all it contains like crushed up diamonds or something. And they freeze each jar before shipping it to keep the ingredients ultra fresh.”
You make a mental note to Google this later, since it sounds completely absurd that diamonds would be an effective skincare ingredient. Though with Charles, you can never be too sure.
“Uh huh, diamonds. That’s totally normal,” you say, playing along.
“Exactly! And the founder makes sure each jar charges under the energy of a full moon before it’s sold. It’s really an intricate artisanal process.” Charles sighs longingly.
You smile and kiss his pouting lips. “You’re cute. I promise your skin will survive one night without magic moon diamonds.”
Charles snuggles against your shoulder. “I know, I know. Skincare is just part of my routine, it makes me feel relaxed and put together. And smelling like citrus blossoms is an added bonus.”
You kiss the top of his head. “I get that. Hopefully the airline finds your stuff soon. But in the meantime, want me to see if anyone sells La Mer nearby?”
Charles perks up. “Ooh yes, let’s check! I saw they have a Dior down the block too.”
You laugh and take his hand. “Of course they do. Come on, let’s go spoil you with new overpriced skincare products until yours turn up.”
***
You walk into the kitchen and see your boyfriend standing at the counter, a pile of uncooked spaghetti next to him. He takes a portion in his hand … which he proceeds to snap in half before dropping it into the pot of boiling water on the stove.
“Charles! What are you doing?” You exclaim in shock.
He turns to you, confused. “What do you mean? I’m just making sure the pasta will fit better in the pot.”
“But you can’t break spaghetti before cooking it!” You say incredulously. “That’s like a cardinal sin in Italy!”
Charles laughs. “Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal. The pasta will cook just fine this way.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Il Predestinato is out here breaking pasta. Do you have any idea how offensive Italians would find this?”
“I’m sure they will survive the absolute tragedy of some broken spaghetti,” he jokes.
You nod to your phone. “It’s a good thing I’m recording this for posterity then. The whole country needs to know about this travesty.”
Charles’ eyes go wide. “What? No, don’t record me!” He reaches for your phone but you spin away, giggling.
“The people of Italy deserve to know the truth about their hero!” You declare dramatically.
“Mon ange, please give me the phone,” he pleads, trying to grab your arm. You dance out of reach.
“Truth and justice will prevail!” You continue recording as Charles chases you around the kitchen island.
“Come on, delete it! This could start an international incident if it gets out!”
You pause to catch your breath, phone held high. “An international inchident? Wow, look at you being all dramatic now. I thought it wasn’t a big deal?”
Charles runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I didn’t think you’d actually record it as blackmail material! Please, mon amour, I’m begging you, delete the video.”
You pretend to think about it. “Hmm I don’t know … this seems like prime viral video content. Scuderia Ferrari Driver Destroys Pasta, Enrages Italy. Can you imagine the views it would get?”
“Y/N!” Charles lunges forward and tackles you onto the living room couch. You shriek with laughter as he tries to pry the phone from your grip.
“Noooo my video!” You yell dramatically.
Charles pins your arms above your head with one hand and reaches for the phone with the other. “Give it to me!”
You squirm underneath him. “Never!”
He leans down until his face is just inches from yours. “What’s it going to take for you to delete that video, huh?” His voice is low and gravelly.
You catch your breath, hyper aware of his body pressing against yours. “I don’t know, what are you offering?” You ask cheekily.
Charles brushes his nose against yours. “What if I made you your favorite dinner tomorrow night?”
You tilt your chin up in defiance. “That’s all I get for deleting potential internet gold? I don’t think so.”
He moves even closer, his lips just barely grazing your cheek. “Okay, what if I take you out for a nice date too? Dinner and a show at the opera, your choice.” His breath is warm against your skin.
You close your eyes for a second, affected by his closeness but not ready to give in yet. “Tempting, but I think this video is worth even more than that.”
Charles makes a small noise of frustration before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You melt into it for a blissful moment before pulling back slightly.
“Well that’s certainly a start,” you murmur, your heart racing.
Charles lets go of your hands to cradle your face tenderly. “Mon cœur, please delete the video. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”
You search his eyes intently. “Anything?”
“Anything,” he confirms fervently before kissing you again, deeper this time.
You wrap your arms around his neck and give yourself over to the kiss. After several heated moments, you gently break away.
“Okay fine, I’ll delete the video on one condition.”
Charles looks at you warily. “Name it.”
“You have to let me drive your Ferrari.”
Charles groans and drops his head against your shoulder. “You’re killing me, you know that?”
You laugh and pat his head consolingly. “Those are my terms.”
He lifts his head to grin ruefully at you. “You drive a hard bargain. But for the sake of Italian nonnas everywhere, I accept your deal.”
You lift up your phone and pretend to wipe away a tear. “The souls of broken spaghetti can finally rest easy.”
Charles just shakes his head before leaning down to silence you with another deep kiss. As you lose yourself in the feeling of his body against yours, you quietly move the video into an encrypted folder. After all, you never know when it might come in handy.
***
You raise an eyebrow as you watch Charles carefully pour Red Bull into his Ferrari water bottle. “Do you buy those in bulk?” You ask with a laugh.
Charles gasps in exaggerated outrage. “Buy from the enemy? Never!” He screws the cap on tightly and gives you a sly grin. “Max and I have an arrangement.”
“An arrangement?” You echo in surprise. This is news to you.
Charles nods, looking pleased with himself. “Yes, a secret trade deal. I provide him cappuccinos from the Ferrari cafe and Max supplies me with as much Red Bull as I need.”
You burst out laughing. “Are you serious? You and Max smuggle each other contraband caffeinated drinks?”
“Shh, not so loud!” Charles glances around furtively, but the motorhome is empty except for the two of you. “It must remain a secret.”
Still chuckling, you lower your voice conspiratorially. “So the great Charles Leclerc betrays his team for energy drinks. The Tifosi would riot if they knew!”
Charles winces dramatically. “Do not say such things! It is not betrayal, merely … creative problem solving.” He takes a long swig of Red Bull and grins. “The taste of the enemy is sweet.”
“I can’t believe you drink that stuff. And I can’t believe Max is your supplier!” You shake your head in amusement. “Does anyone else know about this arrangement of yours?”
“Only Lando. We needed a neutral third party to broker the deal and make the exchanges.” Charles leans in with a playful smile. “So do not be getting any ideas about exposing our scheme, yes?”
You mimic zipping your lips. “My lips are sealed … as long as you share some of that!”
Charles pretends to think about it for a second before breaking into a grin and handing you the bottle. The carbonated liquid fizzes pleasantly on your tongue, the familiar flavor mingling with the surrealness of drinking Red Bull from a Ferrari bottle. You take one more sip then hand it back to Charles.
“Just don’t let Fred or Christian find out,” you warn teasingly. “Pretty sure this counts as treason.”
Charles just laughs. “They turn a blind eye. The team knows I perform best when properly caffeinated.” He caps the bottle and adds, “But no more for you, ma belle. I only have a limited supply!”
You pout dramatically. “Fine, keep your precious Red Bull. I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone what’s really in your water bottle!”
The can of Red Bull that Charles rushes to give you tastes even sweeter than usual.
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houseofceline · 11 months ago
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My Pretty Girl - T.N.
Foreign Touches and Breakfast in Bed
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Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott
Warnings: Asshole Theo?
Summary: You wish you never woke up.
Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while, sorry for the wait but here it is!
< 6
__________________
“How much did you even drink last night?” Cho cringed holding your hair back as another round of vomit spewed out of you and into the toilet. You could feel your head pounding as you sat on the bathroom floor trying to calm yourself down. Waking up to a hangover and your period may be the worst combination known to man, or really women. Thankfully there were no classes today. 
“Too much,” you breathed in and out, making sure there was nothing else coming up. 
“Come on, we need to go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Cho tried helping you up as you gripped onto the sink for support. 
You were not ready to go out in public like this. Bed hair, snippets of last night makeup look in the form of smothered mascara on your cheek, and a million knives stabbing your uterus. Definitely not a pretty sight. Plus, you did not want to see any of the boys after last night incase of something embarrassing you might’ve done while out of it. 
“I don’t wanna go,” you groaned as you flopped on your bed and curled up into a fetal position. 
“You have to eat something Y/n,” Cho spoke softly as she ran her fingers through your hair, trying to flatten it. 
“I’ll eat later.” You grumbled closing your eyes, menstruation already tiring you out. 
“I’ll be back,” Cho said as she left the room, but you were too tired to say anything as you slipped away to dreamland.
___________________
A foreign touch on his chest causes Theo to stir awake in confusion. 
What the hell.
He blinked a few times, allowing his vision to clear up.
Seeing the fake blonde from last night he groaned. 
“Why are you still here?” He mumbled, swatting her hand away from him as he scooted further away from her. 
“What do you mean baby? We don’t have classes today silly,” Hannah replied as she sat up, still nude from late night activities. 
“Right, so the last thing I want on a free day is to see your face. Get out.” Theo mumbled hoping she’d leave so he could sleep so more.
“Theo baby, don’t be so mean,” she spoke, reaching out for him again causing Theo to sit up in a huff. 
“You know the deal, you were supposed to be out before I even woke up,” he ignored the nasty feeling of her calling him cringey pet names. 
“Theo we don’t have to be like this.”
“My name is Theodore,” he stated as he got up and got dressed. 
He sighed as he picked up her clothing items off the floor and threw them at her. 
“I’m leaving since you won’t. But I advise you to wake up before Malfoy does, you know he doesn’t like you.” Theo said as he walked out, ignoring the gasps of surprise when her bra landed in her face. 
What an annoying girl. 
He walked to the Great Hall, deciding that he might as well grab breakfast since he was awake. 
“Did you fuckers seriously eat all the sausages?” Theo scoffed as he took a seat in front of Mattheo. 
“What the fuck did you want me to eat? Those nasty ass muffins?” Blaise replied as he passed a goblet of orange juice to him. 
“HEY! They’re not nasty,” Lorenzo spoke up with crumbs falling out of his mouth. 
“Buddy you’re getting it all over me,” Mattheo shoved the boy next to him with a scoff before glancing over at Theo. 
“Fun night huh?” Mattheo raised a glass towards the bruise-like mark on Theo’s neck. 
“Fuck are you serious?” Theo groaned as he rubbed the side of his neck. 
“I knew I’d regret it, she’s been so possessive lately,” Theo rolled his eyes as he continued eating breakfast. 
“Well I mean you’re always going back to her, maybe she thinks something will happen between the two of you,” Mattheo responded while Theo laughed in response. 
“She’s a Hufflepuff, you know only Slytherin girls are worth dating.” 
Mattheo frowned as Lorenzo looked up from his breakfast.
The whole table fell silent as Lorenzo finished chewing his muffin, “Y/n’s a Ravenclaw. I don’t think she lacks anything compared to Slytherin girls.” 
“Yeah in fact I think she looked better than any Slytherin girl last night,” Mattheo mumbled, causing Theo to look up in surprise. 
“She was there?” He gaped, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up. 
Lorenzo rolled his eyes knowing that Theo had no right to even care if she was there or not. Mattheo and him had begun to care for the girl as if she was their baby sister and at first they were rooting for Theo, but now they weren’t so sure anymore. They had thought that she could be the one to make Theo better. After all it was him who had shown interest first, it was him who had begun to change because of her. She was the first girl Theo had ever described without using compliments that didn’t mean anything. Never spoke about how hot her body was instead ranted to the two boys about how angelic her face looked while she studied and how she smelled like flowers and vanilla. Not only cared about what was on the outside but on the inside as well, bragging to the boys about how talented she was and how cool her nail designs were. That is the same boy who had his eyes set on someone else last night, and the thought of it even made Lorenzo want to either cry or punch him. 
“Yeah but don’t worry, she didn’t need your company,” Lorenzo scoffed as he continued to eat his breakfast again. 
Lorenzo isn’t the type of person to show any resentment or hold any grudges, so Theo definitely knew he might’ve messed up. 
But before Theo could say anything, a familiar face approached up behind Mattheo and Lorenzo. 
Following Theo’s gaze the two boys turned around and greeted the girl. 
“Chang! What’s up?” Lorenzo greeted happily, a complete 180 switch in tone. 
“Hey boys, I’m grabbing breakfast for Y/n since she doesn’t feel well and I thought seeing your faces would cheer her up,” Cho explained as she showed them her plate of chocolate chip muffins. 
Theo furrowed his eyebrows, “Is she okay? Is she sick?” 
Cho rolled her eyes at the boy who caused her best friend to come back to the dorms sobbing her eyes out. She didn’t even know Theo that well but as she watched Y/n clutch her heart as she cried in her arms, she felt as if the boy had broken her heart as well. 
“She's fine as if it’s any of your concern,” Cho brushed Theo’s questions away as she avoided any eye contact with him. 
Lorenzo and Mattheo didn’t bother coming to his defense but instead got up and grabbed some juice and fruit before following Cho. 
Theo looked down at his plate and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. Blaise sighed before patting his mate’s back in comfort while Theo pushed his food around. 
Maybe he deserved that. 
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a-simple-gaywitch · 17 days ago
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A Healing Light
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: When Aaron Hotchner's little sister comes running into the BAU, Spencer doesn't expect her to take up such a large part of his heart
Warnings: referenced/heavily implied domestic violence, referenced child abuse, PTSD, other canon-typical violence
Word Count: 9413
Author's Note: my life has been a total shitshow lately so here’s a fic I made to cope. Disclaimer, all of my knowledge of medical education comes from TV shows and brief Googling. Also I could easily write a part 2 to this I have so many ideas with this concept
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“Nothing can dim the light that shines from within.” ~Maya Angelou
~
When Spencer heard the BAU’s glass doors open, he looked up to see a young woman rushing in. She was dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and long pants, unusual for the warm weather the northeast was currently experiencing. 
“Ma’am, can I help you?” one of the agents asked, reaching a hand out towards her. Spencer saw her flinch back a bit. 
“I-I need to see Aaron Hotchner,” she said, her voice shaking. 
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but-”
“(Y/N)?” Hotch said, stepping out of his office. 
“Aaron!” The woman ran over and wrapped her arms around Hotch in a tight hug. Aaron hugged her back. 
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but-” Aaron froze as he took in your face. Makeup was caked on and there were obvious tear tracks cutting through concealer on your cheeks. Your mascara was also severely smudged under your eyes. Aaron brushed his thumb across your cheekbone, revealing a large, dark bruise. “(Y/N), what happened?”
“He showed up at the restaurant, Aaron. He showed up while I was at work. I-I’m just lucky Lucy saw him in the parking lot from the hostess stand. I ran to the back and Joey gave me the keys to his truck, told me to go somewhere safe, so I came here.”
Hotch looked over at the team, who were not-so-sneakily eavesdropping. “Let’s go talk in my office.” He gently led you through the door and pulled his blinds shut. 
Meanwhile, the team, minus Gideon, gathered in the bullpen. 
“Who was that?”
“His sister,” explained Derek.
“I didn’t know Hotch had a sister,” Garcia said.
“Oh, yeah. Sean and (Y/N) are both younger. I only met (Y/N) one other time.”
“She definitely looks more like Sean than Hotch.” 
“Wonder where they get their looks from, mom or dad?” Emily chimed in. 
Spencer’s eyes drifted to the windows of Hotch’s office, where shadows were moving around. “Guys,” he said, nodding toward the opening office door. The team scattered back to their respective desks, Garcia perching herself on Emily’s. 
“Garcia!” Hotch called. 
“Sir!” She scrambled off the desk. 
“I need you to find everything you can on Nathaniel Walker. Credit card purchases, social media posts, everything. And if he comes even 50 miles from the city, you tell me immediately. Understood?”
“Yes sir,” she said, grabbing one of Emily’s sticky notes and jotting down the name before slipping off to her office. 
“Anderson!” He called. The blond man popped his head up from his desk. Hotch held up an envelope. “Take this to the DA. Tell her it’s a rush order from Agent Hotchner.”
“Yes, sir!” Anderson took the envelope and scurried off. 
“Reid, take (Y/N) to the cafeteria. Make sure she gets something to eat.” Hotch rested his hand on your shoulder. “I have to go call Haley, let her know what’s going on.”
“Oh. Uh, o-okay,” you said. 
“Go with Spencer, get something to eat,” he said, his voice soft in a way the team rarely heard. “I’ll come get you when I’m ready to go, okay?”
You nodded and walked over to the man indicated as Spencer. You followed him through the glass doors and onto the elevator. 
“So,” Spencer said, trying to break the awkward silence that had settled around you, “I heard you work in a restaurant?”
“Oh, yeah. Just to work my way through med school. Sean pulled some strings and got me a waitressing gig in Boston.”
“Medical school? Which one? Emerson? Suffolk?”
“Northeastern, actually,” you said. Spencer saw a hint of a smile on your face. “I have one semester left.”
The elevator doors opened to the cafeteria. Spencer gestured for you to go first. “So, uh, what are you planning to specialize in?”
“I want to go into Pediatric Oncology,” you said. 
“Wow, that’s-”
“Ambitious? Crazy? Unattainable? Believe me, I’ve heard it all,” you said with a dry laugh. “Mostly from Nate,” you muttered.
“Actually, I was going to say that’s amazing.” The two of you slipped into the cafeteria line. “So, last semester. You have a residency program picked out?”
You cleared your throat. “So, uh, what’s good to eat here? Aaron’s always complaining about the cafeteria’s food.”
~
Aaron sat at his desk, rubbing his temples. He’d just gotten off the phone with Haley. He sighed when there was a knock at his door. He looked up to see Gideon standing in the doorway. 
“You okay?” he asked. 
Aaron shook his head. “I’m about ready to drive up to Boston and give (Y/N)’s no-good piece of shit boyfriend a piece of my mind.”
“Hotch.”
He looked up. “She’s my baby sister, Jason. The bastard beat her to hell and back, and I wasn’t there to stop him.” 
Jason sat in the chair across the desk. “Aaron, she’s an adult, she can make her own choices. And she chose to drive hours to come see you for help. The best thing you can do right now is help her through the aftermath. Did you call Sean?”
“Not yet. I just got off the phone with Haley. She agrees, (Y/N) should stay with us until this is all settled. I just sent an emergency protective order to DA Martinez. Garcia’s watching Nate’s movements, making sure he doesn’t track her down.” He sighed. “I don’t know what else to do. I mean, when it’s a case we’re working it all seems so simple, so obvious. But when it’s your own family…”
“I get it,” Jason said. “Look, why don’t you head home. Take a day or two, help (Y/N) get settled. If there’s anything major, I’ll call you.”
~
“Did you know that in the late 19th century, a surgeon named Robert Liston  was responsible for a 300% mortality rate in a single surgery?” Spencer asked as the two of you picked at the food in front of you. 
“Oh, that was only one of the crazy things Liston did,” you laughed. “The man was crazy egotistical. To be fair, he was considered the best surgeon in the world at the time.” You took one of the fries in front of you. “I mean, he cut off a man’s balls on accident, but he’s still legendary.”
Spencer couldn’t stop the laugh that erupted from him. When he saw Hotch walking over, he cleared his throat. “Sir.”
“Reid,” Hotch said with a nod. “(Y/N), you ready to go?”
“Sure. It was nice talking to you, Spencer,” you said. 
“You, too.” As you walked away, Spencer felt the butterflies in his stomach finally start to settle. 
The drive home was mostly silent. You knew Aaron was thinking, and you were coming down from the adrenaline rush. You felt your eyes drooping as you rested your head against the cool window. The radio played softly in the background. Aaron knew any real conversations about what happened would have to wait until you rested.
As the two of you pulled into the driveway,  Haley came running out, baby Jack on her hip. You and Aaron climbed out of the car. 
“Oh, (Y/N)!” She gave you the best one-armed hug she could. “Aaron told me everything. Come on, let’s get you settled in.”
You were steered towards the house when the realization fully hit you like a freight train.
“I only have my purse. I don’t have any of my stuff.” Your breath started coming in heavy puffs. 
“(Y/N). (Y/N), look at me,” Aaron said, his hands heavy on your shoulders. “Breathe. Follow me. Deep breath in, count to five, deep breath out.” He coached your breathing back to normal, continuing to model deep breathing. When you were breathing normally again, he said, “I called Sean. He’s driving to Boston to clear out your apartment. He’ll bring your car down with him. And for now, we have plenty. If there’s something you need, we’ll get it, okay?”
You nodded, tears falling again. “Okay.” 
You walked into your brother’s house and were immediately met with the warm smell of Haley’s cooking. Even though you didn’t visit often, you always enjoyed Haley’s home cooked meals. 
“I made a roast. I hope that’s okay,” Haley said as she set Jack down in his pack-n-play. 
“That sounds lovely, Hales.”
After dinner, Haley ushered you upstairs and led you to the spare room. 
“This is your room for as long as you need,” Haley said. “I put some fresh towels and some soap in the bathroom for you. Help yourself if you need anything, okay? Our house is your house.”
~
It didn’t take you long at all to fall asleep. You’d taken a nice, long shower and Haley had given you a pair of extremely comfortable pajamas to sleep in.
You ended up sleeping for nearly 20 hours. When you did wake up, it was to the sounds of Aaron and Haley arguing. You followed their voices toward the home office. As you got closer, you were able to make out their words.
“She’s your sister, Aaron!” Haley hissed. “She needs your help!”
“And the team needs my help, too!” Aaron shot back. 
“So they’re more important than family?”
You cleared your throat and they spun around. “Sorry to eavesdrop,” you said, “but I don’t want to be a point of contention. If Aaron needs to leave for work, it’s okay. Really. I need to call the university and handle stuff with them anyway.”
“See? She doesn’t need me,” he said. “And we’re only going to Philadelphia.”
Haley sighed and rubbed her temples. “Fine. Go. We’ll be here. Like always.”
“You’re the best,” Aaron said, giving her a quick kiss and grabbing his bag. “Love you.” He kissed your forehead. “Love you too.” He practically ran out of the house. Haley glared out the window. If looks could kill…
~
You sighed, looking up at the ceiling in your new temporary bedroom. Your phone was on speaker, playing mildly annoying music from where it rested on your bed. 
Haley popped her head in, a basket of laundry in her arms. “That music’s been playing for like half an hour.”
You groaned. “I know. I’ve been on hold with the dean’s office.”
Haley clucked her tongue. “Unacceptable.” She walked over to the house phone sitting on your side table and dialed. When whoever was on the other end picked up, she said, “Julia, hi, it’s Haley. Tell your husband to get off his ass and call me on his work phone. Why? Because my sister-in-law has been on hold with Dean Wilkins for almost an hour. Yes, I know, she’s horrible.” Haley laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re so right.” She laughed again. “Okay, thank you Jules. I’ll see you at the next fundraiser. Okay, bye.” She turned to you. “My sorority sister is married to the president of the university. He’ll be calling us soon.”
As if on cue, the phone began to ring. 
“I’ll leave you to it. Holler if you need anything.”
The call went better than you were expecting. After explaining the situation, the president practically bent over backwards to find a solution for you. 
“Let me put in some calls. You might be able to finish up down there.” Was what he had said. 
When that call was finally over, you sat staring at your phone for a while. You knew you needed to call the restaurant, let everyone know you’re okay. But for some reason, that was the call you had been dreading. 
With a couple deep breaths, you picked up the phone and dialed. 
“Park View Bistro, this is Lucy. Dining in or carry-out?”
“Hey, Luce, it’s me.”
She gasped. “Guys, it’s (Y/N)!”
“Are you okay?”
“Where are you?”
“Are you safe?”
You heard your coworkers chime in. You couldn’t fight the smile crossing your face. 
“I’m okay, I’m safe,” you said. “I’m at my brother’s.”
“Which brother?” Tad, one of the busboys, asked. “New York or FBI?”
You rolled your eyes but laughed. “FBI.”
The response was a chorus of “that’s good” and “smart choice” and other positive comments. 
“Well, we gave you a bit of a head start,” Lucy said. “I called the police. They, um. They found a gun on him.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Oh.”
“Are you okay?”
You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, fine. Is Jerry there?”
“Right here,” you heard your manager’s voice. 
“So, kind of obvious, but yesterday was kinda my last day. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, kid,” he said. “Just stay safe, okay? Don’t be afraid to reach out if you need anything, though.”
You were laying on the living room couch, flipping through the flashcards you kept in your purse. Jack was happily playing in his playpen and Haley was grabbing a quick shower. 
“Peripheral nervous system,” you muttered to yourself. “the sensory and motor neurons that connect the central nervous system to the rest of the body. Voluntary movement of skeletal-“
Before you could finish your thought, the doorbell rang. 
“I got it!” You called up to Haley. “Sean!”
Your brother scooped you up in a hug. When he set you down, he gripped your shoulders and looked over your face. “How are you doing? And don’t bullshit me. I know you’re not fine.”
Your chin started to wobble and your eyes started to sting. You started crying yet again, for what felt like the millionth time in 24 hours. Sean pulled you into another tight hug. 
When you finally calmed down, Sean asked, “Where’s Aaron?”
With a sniffle and wiping your eyes, you said, “On a case.”
Sean rolled his eyes. “Of course he is.” He walked over to his car and opened the trunk. “I grabbed some essentials. Your landlord was very understanding. He said he’ll send your stuff down, free of charge.”
“What? Why-why would he do that?”
“Because you’re a ray of goddamn sunshine,” he said. “You charm everyone you meet. You have a whole army of people ready to hunt down one man on your behalf. Everyone loves you, (Y/N).”
~
You were staring at the pile of envelopes on your bed. Sean had brought your mail in the boxes. He was helping you unpack them before heading back to New York.
“What’s up?” Sean asked, noticing your staring. “Did those letters personally offend you or something?”
“They’re internship offers,” you said. 
“(Y/N), that’s great! There’s like seven letters here!”
“Mmh.”
Sean’s brows furrowed. “What’s going on?” He gestured for you to sit with him on the bed. “This is all you’ve wanted since you were, what, seven years old? Why aren’t you more excited about this?”
You sat silently for a few moments, chewing on your lip. “Did you know that only 30% of interns make it through their residency?”
“What? (Y/N), what are you talking about?”
“What if I’m part of the 70%?” you whispered. “What if I fail out? What if I can’t do it?”
“Nate really messed you up, didn’t he? (Y/N), when people ask me about my family, you know what I say? Well, firstly, I say that my brother’s a jackass but we love him anyway.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. “But then I say that my little sister is a genius. She’s going to be the one to cure cancer. She’s so smart and talented, and works so hard. I couldn’t be prouder of her.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
“(Y/N)-“
“I’m not your little sister, I’m your twin, dickhead,” you said with a smile. 
~
“Why did you wait so long to open these?” Haley asked. “There are some really good offers in this pile. 
You chewed the skin around your thumb. “Nate. He wanted me to stay in Boston. I didn’t get an offer from Boston. He didn’t understand how internships work so he got mad. That, um, that’s actually what set him off this last time.”
“Oh, honey,” Haley said, pulling you into a hug.
Hours later, Haley said, “So, we’ve narrowed your choices down to Johns Hopkins Medicine-Sibley Memorial Hospital and George Washington University.”
Your leg was bouncing and you were chewing the skin around your thumb. “I don’t know. I mean, the peds department at any Hopkins hospital is world-class. But the research department at George Washington produces some of the most cutting-edge advancements. You rubbed your face with both your hands. 
“Hello?” came Aaron’s voice from the kitchen. “I’m home!”
“Living room!” Haley called. She turned to look at you. “Well, you want to help kids with cancer, right? Which place is going to allow you to do that the most?”
“What are we doing in here? Hey, Sean.”
Sean nodded toward Aaron as Haley explained, “Helping (Y/N/N) decide where she’s gonna intern in July. We’re down to two hospitals.”
Aaron looked at the letters on the table. “George Washington University and Johns Hopkins?”
“Yeah,” you sighed. “I can’t decide.”
He looked over the letters. “George Washington pays more. Go with them.”
Sean scoffed as Haley said, “Aaron!”
“What? It’s practical.”
“It’s not that easy, Aaron,” you said. “I need to think about how they can propel my future. Which one’s gonna offer me the better education.” 
“Okay, how about this,” Sean offered. “Close your eyes, no thinking, random questions.”
“Sean, that doesn’t work here,” you said. “Yeah, it’s a fun game for easy choices when we were kids, but-”
“What about a pro-con list?” Aaron suggested. “I’ll get paper, we’ll write it out.”
You scoffed. “You sound like Dad.”
“Hey!” He gently punched your arm with a huffed laugh. “Uncalled for.”
In the end, after hours of debating, you decided on Hopkins. It was a short train away from the house, and it was going to help you get where you wanted to go better than the university hospital. And simply making that decision lifted a huge weight you didn’t even realize was sitting on your chest. 
Penelope rushed down the hallway from her office to the bullpen. 
“Hey-“ Morgan’s greeting was promptly ignored as she raced up the steps to Hotch’s office, “-babygirl.”
She knocked hurriedly on the door. 
“Come in!”
“Sir,” Penelope panted out, clutching her tablet to her chest. 
“Garcia? What’s wrong?” 
“You told me to tell you if any of Nathaniel Walker’s information changed. Well, his credit cards show he stopped at a gun shop in Maryland and he just got gas in Baltimore.” Hotch’s stomach dropped when she continued, “It looks like he’s heading for here.”
“Thank you, Garcia,” Hotch said, doing his best to hide is panic. “You can go.” He reached for his phone and dialed. 
“Hello?”
“(Y/N), where are you? Please tell me you’re at the house.”
“Um, no,” you said. “Haley and I are at the mall. Why?”
“Don’t- don’t worry about it. Just, stay there, okay?”
“Aaron, what’s going on?” you demanded.
He sighed and said, “Might as well tell you. Nathaniel is looking for you.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry. I have someone tracking his car. And, you have a protective order which means police have to intervene if he comes within 50 feet of you. Besides, it looks like he’s coming here first.”
“Is he really stupid enough to show up to a federal building?” Haley asked. The two of you had taken a bench in the mall, and you’d put Aaron on speakerphone. 
“He’s stupid enough to follow (Y/N). I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“What-what do we do if he finds us here?” you asked. 
“He won’t,” Haley assured you. 
“He doesn’t know where the house is. Go home, it’s the safest place right now.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Haley said. “Besides, Jack is starting to get cranky.”
When you got back to the house, you sat by the phone, staring, waiting for it to ring. What if he attacked Aaron? What if Aaron attacked him? He may be horrible to you, and you were definitely broken up, but a part of you still loved him. After all, you were together for over three years. You’d even discussed marriage with him. 
Finally, after what felt like years, the phone rang. You scrambled to pick it up. 
“Aaron?”
“Hey.” He was panting on the other end of the line. 
“What happened?
“Well, you won’t have to worry about him anymore.” 
“What? Is he-“
“He’s alive,” your brother said. “Probably wishing he was dead, though. He probably has some broken ribs and he definitely has a concussion. He’s also facing up to 20 years in federal prison.”
“What happened?” 
“Do you really want to know?” You heard him mutter “thank you” to someone in the office. 
You chewed your lip. “I guess not.”
July came much faster than you were expecting. Maybe that was because your spring was so busy - testifying in court about Nate, finishing your last few tests, and 
“Okay, what do we think?” You asked Haley, slowly spinning with your arms held out. “Too casual? Or too formal?”
“No, it looks nice,” Haley assured you. “Professional without being too stuffy. And your makeup is lovely.”
“Why are you bothering?” Aaron asked. “Aren’t you just going to change into scrubs anyway?”
You sighed with an eye-roll as Haley said, “Aaron!”
“What?”
“It’s about making a first impression,” you said. “I’m going to be working here for at least 5 years, I need to start on the right foot.” You straightened out the blouse you had chosen. “Besides, they’re making us sit in a bunch of meetings for most of the morning, I won’t get my scrubs until later.” You took a deep breath before slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Today’s the day.”
It didn’t take long for you to make friends at the hospital. You clicked well with a few of the other interns in your class: Austin, Syd, and Ella. By some miracle, you were all scheduled off at the same time, after a long and grueling day. Syd suggested going to the bar down the street, and you all thought it sounded like a good idea.
“What are you guys drinking?” Syd asked, shouldering her way to the bar. “I’m thinking we start with a round of shots.” She started pointing around your small group. “Shots? Shots? Shots?”
You laughed. “Sure. Set me up. Ella?”
“I’m down.”
“Well, if we’re all doing it…” Austin joked. 
“Awesome! Four tequilas,” she said when she flagged down the bartender.
Before you knew it, you and your friends were loosened up and laughing around a table. 
“No way, you were totally ready to jump over Ness to scrub in,” Austin laughed. “I have never met anyone more competitive.”
“Ah, well, when you grow up with two brothers and a father who uses love and affection as a reward for achievement, you learn to fight for everything.” You took a sip from your run and coke before noticing the table went silent. “What?”
Syd cleared her throat. “Nothing. Did, uh, did any of you sit in the gallery for that transplant?”
“Oh, yeah, so cool,” Ella said. “Kidney transplant on a 5-month-old.”
Austin finished the rest of his drink. “Anyone want to dance?”
“I’ll go,” Syd offered, standing up with him. “There’s some cute guys on the floor. Ella?”
“Sure. How ‘bout you, (Y/N/N)?”
“No thanks,” you said. “I am gonna get a water, though.” After you flagged down the bartender for your drink, you felt someone step up beside you. 
“Looks like residency is treating you well.”
Your head whipped around. “Dr. Reid?”
“Spencer. Please, just Spencer.”
You smiled at him as the bartender placed your drink in front of you. “Is the whole team here?”
“Most of them.” He nodded over toward the dance floor where Morgan was clearly flirting with your girls. “Gideon and Hotch chose to go home. JJ and Garcia are over at our table with Emily.” He was about to say something else when his phone started ringing. “Damn.”
You chuckled. “Isn’t that how it always goes?” 
He smiled and you felt your stomach flutter in a way it hadn’t in years. Your eyes followed him as he met back up with Derek and the girls. 
“I’m telling you, he’s married!”
“Wouldn’t he have a ring if he were married, Syd?”
“No, he would take it off. Besides, what other reason can you think of for a guy suddenly needing to leave after getting a text?”
“You guys talking about Derek?” You asked.
“Wait, how’d you know his name? We didn’t tell you!” Ella said. 
“He works with my brother. They just got called for a case.”
“Ha! He’s not married, Syd! Take that!” Ella said. She turned to you. “You think he’ll call?”
“Probably,” you shrugged. 
“Wait,” Austin said. “You’ve known this guy for how long, and you’re not showing any interest in Mr. Muscles? What’s wrong with him?”
You scoffed. “Nothing’s wrong with him. He’s just… not my type.”
Austin crossed his arms over his chest. “Really? Adonis isn’t your type?”
You shrugged in response. 
“Okay, so what is your type?” Syd asked. 
Your eyes were still tracking Spencer where the team was gathered. “Tall and lanky,” you said. “Kinda nerdy and dorky. Someone with a heart of gold.”
You were at the library, pouring over a stack of books. The intern exam was coming up quicker than you thought, and you were trying to be as prepared as possible. You marked down some notes before shifting back to the book. 
“Little light reading?” someone asked. 
You looked up, prepared to tell the person off, but the words died on your tongue when a familiar mop of brown hair and hazel eyes came into your line of sight. “Dr. Reid!” Your cheeks flushed and you mentally cursed yourself. “It’s uh, it’s good to see you.”
“You too.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So, is this your idea of a fun night off?”
You laughed and bookmarked the page you were on. “Kind of,” you said. “Intern exams are in 8 weeks so it’s cram time.”
Spencer hummed. “You want a study-buddy?” he offered.
“Dr. Reid-”
“Oh, Spencer, please. Just Spencer.”
You cleared your throat. “I don’t want to take up your night off.”
He scoffed as he slid into the seat across from you. “I didn’t have any plans. I was gonna check out some books and hide myself away in my apartment. This is definitely an upgrade.” 
You smiled and ducked your head to hide your ever-flushed cheeks. 
“Mind if I take a look?” he asked, gesturing toward your notebook. 
“Oh! Um, sure.” You slid it across from him. “My resident wrote down some practice questions for me and I’ve been drilling the answers.”
After looking through your notes, he said, “So, just out of curiosity, why pediatric oncology?”
You took in a big breath. “I’ve known a lot of people who’ve suffered from cancer. My dad, my grandmother. But the one that affected me the most was my best friend’s baby sister.” Your eyes started to glaze over as you thought back. 
“Sophia lived two streets away from us. We spent just about every day together. When we were four, her mom got pregnant. Lindsey was born severely underweight and had a bunch of health issues from the beginning. She was barely four pounds. Because her parents were practically living in the hospital, my mom let Sophia stay with us. It was actually pretty fun for a bit. It was like we were sisters. And, you know, having two brothers, all you really want is a sister. But then they took us to meet Lindsey. It was rough. She was so small and so pale, hooked up to so many machines. I remember there was this light shining on her. I didn’t know then but it was for her bilirubin level. They didn’t know what was wrong so they were trying everything in the book. But after months of testing and testing and testing, they finally diagnosed her. Leukemia.
You wiped at your eyes. “We didn’t really know what that meant, of course. But we knew our parents were really upset about it.” You took a shuddering breath. “They tried everything. Chemo, surgeries, different radiation treatments. But nothing helped. We lost Lindsey before her second birthday.”
“I’m sure that was really hard for your families. It sounds like you were really close.”
“Yeah. We were. That was really my first real experience with death. And I just remember thinking, this is a brand new person. Why would the universe let her get this horrible, horrible disease? And why does no one know how to stop it? Well, anyway, that was when I decided I wanted to be a doctor and find a cure. For Lindsey and the McDermott’s.”
“So you’ve known what you wanted to do since you were six?” Spencer asked, his admiration for you growing.
You shrugged. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“The only other person I’ve known who’s known what they wanted to do since they were that age is well… me.”
“Seems like we have a lot in common then,” you said with a smile.
You had a great time studying with Spencer. He had some great memorizing techniques, and he knew when you needed a break from cramming before you did. He made the time fly by, to the point the librarians had to kick you out so they could close.
You and Spencer were laughing together as you walked to the metro station. 
“Wait, so Sean thought zebras were fake until high school? How is that even possible?” Spencer laughed. 
“Well, it’s not like our dad ever took us to the zoo,” you said. “His idea of a fun family outing was making us sit in the gallery of a courtroom watching him prance like a peacock.”
“At least yours didn’t leave you to take care of your chronically ill mother before you hit puberty,” Spencer said. He then bit his tongue. He barely knew you, why was he compelled to tell you something so personal?
“Hey, fellow member of the Shitty Dads Club, high five!” You held up your hand and laughed as Spencer tentatively clapped your hand. Spencer felt the knot that formed unfurl. “Tonight was fun,” you said as you got to your platform.
“It was. I, uh, I had a good time.”
“Well. This is my train. See you around?”
“Yeah. Yeah, definitely! Oh, uh, let me know how you do on the exam.”
“Sure. Yeah, I definitely will.”
~
Aaron was on the plane with the team when his phone started ringing. “Hello?”
“I passed!” you yelled down the line. “Actually, I didn’t just pass, I got it perfect!”
“Hey, that’s awesome!” He turned to the rest of the plane. “(Y/N) passed her intern exam!”
“Hey!”
“Alright!”
“Good for her!”
“Okay, that was it,” you said. “I have to get back to work.” You whooped, “I passed!”
Aaron laughed. “Okay, I’ll see you when we get back.”
“Oh, okay, bye!”
~
Spencer was distracted. Usually on the plane to a new case, he was pouring over the file. But this time, he was staring out the window, lost in thought. 
“Alright, Pretty Boy,” Morgan said, plopping down next to him. “What’s on your mind?”
“Hmm?” Spencer snapped away from the window. “Oh, hey, Morgan.”
“What’s going on with you?”
“What? Nothing.” He looked around the plane, briefly making eye contact with Hotch. “No-nothing’s going on.”
Morgan looked at him for a moment. “Fine. Don’t tell me now. But I’m not dropping this, kid. I’ll find out what’s got you all distracted. I’m bringing this up again.”
Unfortunately, Morgan didn’t get a chance to bring it up again until much later. The case went off the rails faster and harder than anyone could have expected, with both Spencer and JJ disappearing. As the case continued to unfold, the team knew Tobias Hankle wasn’t going to come in easy. 
The team fought, and fought hard. They stayed awake for over 24 hours trying to rescue Reid. Finally, finally, the team succeeded. After what felt like hours of debating, Hotch convinced Reid to go to the hospital to be examined. 
“This is ridiculous,” Spencer said from the ER gurney. “I’m fine.”
“Kid, you’re not fine,” Morgan said. “You were held captive for two days and tortured. Let the damn doctors examine you.”
He sighed and flopped himself back on the bed. 
Derek leaned closer to the bed. “So, can we finally talk about this girl you got on your mind?”
Spencer’s head snapped over to him. “You-”
“You really thought I wouldn’t piece it together? C’mon, kid, we’re profilers. So, who is she?”
Spencer glanced around before finally admitting, “(Y/N).”
“Wait, wait, as in-”
“Hotch’s sister. Yeah. We, uh, I ran into her at the library a few nights ago, and we had a good time. Did you know she skipped two grades? Second and tenth. And she was valedictorian at her undergrad.” Spencer smiled up at the ceiling. “And she’s funny. She made me laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe.” He grew quiet. He whispered, “Thinking of her helped me get through it. Her smile, her laugh. When I thought about just giving up, I thought about how she lights up the room. She gave me hope.”
~
You were having a terrible day. You’d woken up late, meaning you nearly missed morning rounds. Then, you got stuck doing scut work for being late. Then, while you were working on some papers, you knocked your coffee all over the file and yourself. 
“Hate this damn day,” you muttered, grabbing the box of tissues nearby to mop up the papers. “God fuckin-”
“Well,” Ella drawled, sidling up to the counter, “I have something that might cheer you up.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“There’s a very handsome professor guy asking for you,” she said. “Says he wants to talk to you.”
You looked up from the desk, prepared to yell at whoever was interrupting your already terrible day. Whatever vitriol you were about to spill died when you saw who Ella was talking about. 
“Spencer!” You jumped up, completely forgetting about the coffee seeping into your scrubs. You ran around the desk. “Aaron told me what happened in Georgia, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, no, I-I’m okay. I, uh, wanted to talk to you, though.”
“Sure. What’s-what’s going on?”
“Actually,” ‘he said, dropping his voice to a whisper, “can we talk somewhere private?”
“Oh! Sure.” You led him to a nearby exam room that was empty. “So, what’s up?” He was looking everywhere but at your face. “Spencer?”
He took a deep breath. “Look, I had a really great time with you at the library. I loved getting to know you and-and I would love to get to know you better.”
You started smiling. “Spencer Reid, are you asking me out?”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I am. Or, well, at least I’m trying. I’ve never really been good at this kind of stuff.”
You were smiling so hard your cheeks were starting to hurt. “Well, I’d love to go on a date with you,” you said. “And I promise, I won’t be wearing coffee-soaked scrubs.”
Spencer laughed and said, “Well, I still think you look great. You always do.” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as Spencer gazed at you. “So, uh, I know you have a crazy schedule. Are you free Friday at 7?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I actually get done at 6. Meet here?”
“Absolutely,” Spencer said. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you then.”
“Bye.”
Your day went a lot better after that.
~
It was almost 3 in the morning when you got to the door. Your heels were in one hand, and you tried to quietly unlock the back door with the keys in your other hand. You winced as the door squeaked open and you started tiptoeing across the kitchen floor. You were halfway to the stairs when the light flicked on. 
“Shit!” you hissed.
Aaron was sat at the kitchen counter. “So, you want to tell me where you’ve been all night?” he asked.
You cleared your throat. “I plead the fifth.” Aaron looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Look, I’m an adult, I don’t need to tell you where I was or who I was with! I’m not in high school anymore, Aaron. And you’re not Dad.”
“So you were on a date.”
“Maybe.”
“With who?”
“Not telling.”
“(Y/N)-”
“Look, I get that you’re looking out for me, I do. But I’m not a teenager, and you’re not my legal guardian anymore. You have to let me live my life. Make my own mistakes”
“(Y/N), this is your first date since Nathaniel-”
“That you know of.”
“-are you really so surprised I’m worried about you?”
You sighed and sat down next to him. “No, I’m not surprised. But I really like this guy,” you said. “I don’t want you scaring him off by going all Scary Big Brother on him. If it helps, I know you’ll like him.” Aaron just hummed in response. You leaned your head on his shoulder and the two of you sat in silence for a bit. “For the record,” you said, “I’m glad you’re not Dad. You care more than he ever did.” 
~
Spencer hummed happily as he added sugar to his morning coffee. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, smiling at the message on the screen. 
“So, I take it the big date went well,” Morgan said, walking up next to Spencer and pulling his own cup out of the cabinet. 
Spencer hid his smile with his mug as he took a sip of his coffee. 
“Wait, wait, did I hear the word date in relation to Reid?” Emily asked. 
“You sure did. Pretty Boy’s got game. So, is there a second date in your future?”
“Possibly.” Spencer felt his face flushing and he took another sip of coffee to hide it.
“So, what’s the name of this girl that’s got you all starry-eyed?” Emily asked as they walked back to their desks. 
“I think I’m gonna keep that to myself for a little longer,” Spencer said, his eyes tracking Hotch as he walked from Gideon’s office to his own. 
“Okay, well, if you won’t tell us her name, can you at least tell us where you took her?”
“Well, we started at an escape room, like Morgan suggested, but we beat it way too quickly. They said we set a new record.”
“Wow. How long?”
“Five minutes. Then, since we couldn’t make any reservations, we just walked around the city, seeing what looked interesting. We found a bar hosting a trivia night. And then we just spent the rest of the night… talking. We just sat there, getting to know each other. It was- it was actually really nice.”
“Sounds like all that worrying was for nothing,” Morgan said. 
“Well, not for nothing,” he said. “There’s still that big elephant in the room.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?” Emily asked. “Morgan knows who it is?”
“Well, yeah. He’s the one that convinced me to ask her out.”
“And it’s more like the elephant in the big office,” Morgan quipped. “You’re gonna have to tell him eventually.”
“And we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. But for now, she doesn’t want to tell him and I’m certainly not going to be the one to tell him.”
“Reid, please tell me you’re not seeing a married woman.”
“What? No! Emily, no!”
“Let’s just say she has a pretty protective family,” Morgan said. “Someone who’s known to flip his lid if his family is hurt.”
“Wait a second…” Emily took in how Spencer was avoiding eye contact and Morgan’s eyes flicked between him and Hotch’s office with a smirk. She gasped. “No way!”
~
“So, how’d date night go?” Syd asked the next day at work. 
“It was great. Until Aaron caught me sneaking back into the house.”
She barked out a laugh. “What are you, 15?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, Abbot,” you joked as you lined up for your morning rounds.
“So, is he taking you out again?”
“Yeah, next Wednesday. We’re going to see a show at the Kennedy Center.”
“Ooh, which one?”
“Abbot, Hotchner!” your resident snapped. “Something you’d like to share with the group?”
You cleared your throat. “No, ma’am. Sorry. Won’t happen again.”
“It better not, or you’ll be buried to your eyes in scut. Now, who’d like to present?”
~
“You sure you’re ready to do this?” Spencer asked you. The two of you had been together for four months, and had decided to make things official by telling your family. 
You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, besides, I think he already knows and he’s just waiting to hear it from me.” You took a deep breath and unlocked the door. “Aaron? Haley?”
“Kitchen!”
You motioned for Spencer to wait as you walked in the room. “I, uh, I have someone I want you to meet,” you said. “Or, well, you’ll see. Uh, I want to introduce my boyfriend. Spencer.”
You motioned for him to come into the room and you gripped his hand. He gave yours a squeeze in reassurance.
Aaron smiled. “I was wondering when you’d finally admit it.”
~
Date nights with Spencer were probably your favorite nights. The two of you had decided to have a night in rather than go out. Dinner was simple: just pasta with some frozen garlic bread. Neither of you was a very talented cook. 
You were helping clean up, putting dishes back in the cabinets, when a plate slipped from your hand and smashed on the floor. 
Suddenly, you were back in Boston with Nate. He was yelling, cursing at you, and you were just standing there. 
You jumped when an arm landed on your shoulder. You cried out and scrunched in on yourself, expecting Nate’s harsh slap. 
Instead, you were met with Spencer’s concerned eyes and soft, “(Y/N)?”
You snapped yourself out of it. “You know, I-I just remembered, I have an early shift tomorrow. I-I should probably go,” you stuttered out before grabbing your purse off the counter and rushing from the apartment. 
“(Y/N)-”
The next day in the office, Spencer went to Hotch’s office. He sat down in the chair across from his desk and said, “(Y/N) made it home last night, right?”
Hotch looked up. “What’s going on? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Spencer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. She, uh, she dropped a plate and it broke. Then she just stood there, staring at it. I wasn’t thinking and touched and she freaked out. She got all defensive, her breath started racing and she rushed out of my apartment. She claimed she had to work but I know she has off today.”
Hotch frowned. “She had a flashback.”
“I think so. I want to fix it but I don’t know how,” he admitted. “I mean, what am I supposed to say? I promise I’m not like your psycho ex, I care more about you and your safety than a piece of porcelain?”
“Well, I would leave out the psycho ex part,” Hotch said, giving Spencer a small smile. “But sincerely, give her a little bit of time.”
“She seemed really distressed, Hotch.”
He sat for a moment before saying, “Okay.” He picked up his phone and dialed. “Hey. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I need a favor. It’s for (Y/N).”
You were sitting on the living room couch, bundled in a blanket. You were staring absently at the blank TV, your mind filled with what felt like static. When you heard keys in the door, you jumped. You let out a sigh when you saw Haley’s familiar blonde head peak in the door. 
“(Y/N)? Hey.” She walked over and sat on the coffee table in front of you. “You okay?”
You let out a dry laugh. “Do I look okay?”
Haley gave you one of her sympathetic smiles before saying, “Do you want to talk about it?”
You found you did. So you told her everything. “It was like I was right back there,” you said. “I was back in that Boston apartment and Nate was breaking things and throwing things because I wasn’t doing what he wanted.” Tears were running down your face. 
“Oh, sweetie,” Haley said, moving to the couch to pull you into a hug. “I’m so sorry. But you know, you weren’t back there. You were with Spencer, one of the most gentle, caring men I know.”
“I know, I know. Logically, I know that. Logically, I know Spencer wouldn’t hurt me. But in that moment, I couldn’t think logically. I was back in fight or flight.” 
After a few days, you decided to sit with Spencer and talk it out. You explained where your head was, and Spencer assured you the episode didn’t scare him away; he was in it for the long haul with you.
~
“You ever notice how we’re always at my place?” Spencer asked, breaking away from where the two of you were making out on his couch. 
“What?” You brushed some hair out of your face. 
“Not that I mind,” Spencer rushed out. “I mean, I-I get it. You’re still living with Hotch, he’s my boss, it’s awkward.”
“Yeah? Spence, where are you going with this?”
“You spend most of your nights here anyway. I think my closet is more your clothes than mine-”
“Spencer.” You gripped his hand. 
“Right, right. I’m rambling.” He cleared his throat. “Um, I was thinking. What if- what if you moved in here? With me?”
Rather than a verbal answer, you tackled him down on the couch, kissing him again.
When you finally broke away, Spencer laughed, “I take it that was a yes?”
“Of course it’s a yes! I love you.” You froze. That was the first time either of you had said those words. A knot of panic was starting to form in your chest.
Spencer must have noticed because he gently took your hands. “Hey, hey, breathe. You’re okay.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you, too.”
~
You groaned as you unlocked the door. “You would not believe the day I had,” you said, kicking your shoes off by the door. Your boyfriend looked up from where he was reading a book on the couch.
“First, the coffee machine in the lounge was busted. Then, I was put in the ER which, you know, fine, whatever. But this group of drunk college girls come in because their friend passed out and we had to pump her stomach. Normal Friday night, right? Well, as we’re taking care of this girl, one of her friends vomits all over me. But, before I can go change my scrubs, an emergency trauma comes in. Apparently, this guy collects Civil War memorabilia and he and his buddy thought it would be fun to play with the musket. So this guy has a bayonet stuck in his abdomen and a bullet wound that’s stuffed with a sock that had clearly been worn recently so we have to worry about infection on top of him bleeding out. All over me, by the way. Then, finally, I get a chance to change my scrubs because they need me in L&D. So I’m helping with this geriatric pregnancy, which by the way is a term I hate, and the mom starts coding. So we’re rushing, trying to get a crash cart, prepared to resuscitate, and then we see the DNR order on the chart. At least the baby was healthy. And nearly 9 pounds.”
You huffed and plopped onto the couch. Spencer pulled your legs up into his lap. “I’m sorry, baby. Hey, you know what might cheer you up? Morgan got yelled at by the accountant for kicking down an unlocked door on our last case. And Penelope totally embarrassed herself answering the phone.”
You snorted a laugh. “Course she did.”
“Oh, and she invited us on a double-date with her and Kevin. Movie night. It might help you destress a bit. Take your mind off that chief resident decision I know you’re constantly thinking about. Which, by the way, you’re gonna get. You’re perfect for the job, they’d be crazy to pass you over for this.” He lifted your hand up and kissed the back of it.
~
Spencer was right, they’d chosen you as chief resident. And you loved it. It was stressful and difficult, but it was what you’d been waiting for. It came with unexpected challenges, like when an emergency trauma came through the ICU. 
You were on your way to check on the unconscious man when you noticed a crowd gathered in front of the room. 
“What is this?” You asked, pushing your way through the crowd of mostly interns and first-year residents. “Out of the way. Move.” When you finally made your way into the room, you saw a familiar group talking to the intern sent to check vitals. “Agents.”
Your brother was standing next to the bed, and you noticed handcuffs around both the patient’s hands. You pursed your lips before turning to the gathered crowd. “I know you all have somewhere to be. Go!” Finally, you turned back to the team. “Can I help you gentlemen?”
“When will Mr. Holsten be awake?” Aaron asked. “Your intern here didn’t seem to have an answer for us.”
You raised your eyebrows at him. “First of all, don’t talk about my intern in that way. Dr. Lester has only been here a few weeks, the new class just started. Secondly, we can’t say for certain. He had significant trauma, so he’s pretty heavily sedated at the moment and-“
“Can you wake him? We have some questions he needs to answer.”
“No, we cannot wake him, Agent Hotchner. Waking him could prove detrimental to his healing. Over the course of his treatment we will start to decrease the medications, but we will not forcibly wake him.”
“You don’t understand, Dr. Hotchner, this man killed-“
You held up your hand. “Right now, at this moment, I don’t care who he killed. He could have slaughtered a convent full of nuns and I would not provide less than adequate care. Within these walls, he is just a patient in need of medical attention. I refuse to violate my Hippocratic oath for your investigation. So, you have two options. One, let us care for him as our team seems fit and you can ask all your questions after he wakes up. Or two, you leave this hospital and wait for him to be discharged. The choice is yours.”
As you stared down with your brother, the team could clearly see the family resemblance. It was in your eyes, in the stubbornness you both exhibited. 
Finally, Aaron took a step back. “Fine. Call us the second he wakes up. But the cuffs stay on unless absolutely necessary.”
“Deal.”
~
It was a rare night when you and Spencer were both home, at a normal time, and at the same time. You’d had a nice dinner together and were laying in bed. Spencer was reading a book while you were working on a report for the research grant team. 
“(Y/N)?”
“Hmm?”
“We should go to Vegas,” he said. “To see my mom.”
You froze. “You want me to meet your mom?”
“Well, yeah.” He set his book on the side table and turned to face you. “I’ve already told Mom all about you. She loves you already and she hasn’t even met you. She’s been doing really really well on this medication and I really want the two most important people in my life to meet each other.” He took your hand and squeezed it. 
You gave him a small smile. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, might as well get the hard part over with, right?” You took a deep breath. “I have to meet her sooner or later, why not make it sooner?”
The next day at work, you were telling your friends about the conversation. 
“So it looks like I’ll be cashing in some of my PTO.”
“You’re really going to meet his mom?” Syd asked. “That’s, like, practically a step away from getting married. You sure you’re ready for that?”
“Definitely not,” you said. “From what Spence has told me, she’s, like, Superwoman. She was this awesome English professor for years and raised Spencer on her own after his dad left.”
“So you’re totally intimidated,” Ella said. 
“Oh, absolutely.”
“Hey look on the bright side,” Austin chimed in. “At least he doesn’t have to meet your parents.”
You laughed. “Yeah, just one of the many reasons I’m glad my father’s under the ground. Think I would have wanted my mom to meet him, though.”
The end of your residency was quickly approaching. Offers for fellowship positions were starting to come in, meaning your class had to finalize their specialties with the head of the program. 
“Dr. Hotchner,” the director of the program said, looking over your file, “you’ve shown much interest in pediatric oncology. Are you sure that’s the specialty you want?” 
“Absolutely.”
He set the file down. “You do know that specialty’s not easy? Not from a technical perspective, but from the very nature of who your patients are and what they’re facing.”
“I know, sir.”
“You show great promise as a trauma surgeon. Are you sure-”
“Sir, with all due respect,” you said, scooting the chair closer to the desk and straightening up in the chair, “I’ve wanted this job since I was a child. I know what I’m getting into. This is not something I’ve decided on a whim.”
He sighed. “Alright. In that case, I should let you know, I received a call from the chief over at St. Jude’s. They wish to extend a fellowship offer to you, of course with the condition that you pass your board certification.”
~
That night, Spencer came home to find you pacing and muttering to yourself. 
“(Y/N)?”
“Good, you’re home,” you said. “I, uh, I need to talk to you.”
Spencer’s brows furrowed in concern. “Okay?” He sat down on the couch with you. “(Y/N), what’s going on?” You were fidgety, looking everywhere but at Spencer. “(Y/N)?”
Finally, you took a deep breath and said, “I got some big news today. I, uh, I got a fellowship offer from St. Jude.”
“What? (Y/N), that’s fantastic! That’s, like, your dream to work there.” He took in how distressed you seem. “What’s wrong?”
“Spencer, fellowships are three years long. I’d be living in Memphis for three years. I don’t know if I want to live that far apart from you for that long.”
“So you’re torn between your professional dream and me.” He turned his body to face you. “(Y/N), I wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back from your goals because of me.” After a few moments of silence, Spencer said, “I could go with you.”
“What?”
“Yeah! There’s an FBI office in Memphis, I could transfer there,” he said. “If you’re turning this down because of me-”
“Spence, it’s not just because of you,” you said. “I love working at this hospital. I love the team I work with, and I feel like I can learn just as much from Hopkins as I can from St. Jude. Plus, Aaron and Jack are here. I can’t leave them after they just lost Haley. And you can’t leave the team here. They’re your family.” You gripped his hand in yours. “I promise, I thought this through. It’s all I’ve done all day.”
After the end of your conversation, Spencer spent some time thinking. He impulsively offered to uproot his life so that you could follow your dream. Never did he think he would be the kind of person to do that. He thought back to six years ago, when you first walked through the doors of the BAU. If only he knew then how absolutely head over heels he was for you, While you were on the phone with your brother, telling him about your decision, he decided he needed to call Penelope. 
He needed help picking out a ring.
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mischievousmoony · 2 months ago
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Omg I love ur James fics. You think you could do one where reader finally feels comfortable getting drunk while going out with their group because she knows James is there to take care of her. Ur drunk reader x James interactions are too cute. I feel like I always have a hard time letting go cause I’m afraid I’ll need to take care of my other friends haha. Love your work!
thank u love! i have fun writing them, i just know james would be so caring! ps thank you for being patient ik this request came in a while ago
𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍
⟢ james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.0k ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (i think that’s it but lmk if i missed any pls)
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"But what if Sirius tries to get a new tattoo again?" you ask, twisting back and forth with a steady squeak, squeak, squeak of your barstool.
James clasps his hand on your shoulder, turning you one last time to face him. "Remus is watching him."
"What if Marlene tries to go on another one of her adventures?"
Marlene has a knack for getting herself into precarious situations when she gets drunk, which she likes to call her “little adventures.” Usually, this means going home with a stranger, whether it’s for a hookup or to steal their lightbulbs because they looked at her wrong.
"Lily’s got her.”
"What if I do something stupid?" you ask, now swinging your legs. The nerves eating away at you just won’t let you sit still.
James puts his other hand on your knee, soothing you with a gentle squeeze. "I'm watching you," he says. After thinking it over for a moment, he adds, “And I don't think you'll do anything stupid. Even if you do, I'll do something more stupid so that nobody notices."
This earns him a giggle from you, and he’s happy to see you smiling. He picks up your glass, which is now covered in beads of water, plenty of time having passed for condensation to run its course. He dries what he can with a napkin because he knows you hate when the droplets land in your lap.
You once asked him why it happened, even though you knew the answer. He simply told you it was science.
“Science is stupid,” you had said, eyes fixating on several small spots of water soaking into your jeans.
Now, James wraps your glasses with napkins. He holds out your drink, a black napkin enveloped around it, as he asks, “You want to do this, right?”
You peek into the glass and watch the dwindling ice cubes swirl around in a vodka cran; a drink that James had called “beginner friendly.”
“Yeah,” you answer shyly.
James frowns. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.”
You chew your bottom lip, thinking it over. A part of you wants to forget it, but another part of you knows you’d be disappointed in yourself for chickening out again.
You wrap your hand around the glass, cringing at the squish of the soggy napkin beneath your fingertips. You don’t know what’s worse: this feeling or the water dripping all over you. But James’ attempts to help make you feel warm inside, so you don’t complain.
“No, I still want to do this.”
“Then I’m here for you. Promise.” James gives your knee another squeeze.
You cast a look toward your friends. For years, you've nominated yourself as the designated driver. Or you've claimed to have early morning obligations. You've always felt better knowing someone sober was around to deliver plenty of water and carb-rich snacks to your incapacitated friends.
That was your excuse, anyway. Not that it isn't one of your concerns, but truthfully, something about drinking makes you feel uneasy. You always knew your friends were safe because you've been there, ready to hold back anyone's hair or stray them away from bad decisions. If you drank too, how could you be sure your friends would have someone to depend on? How could you be sure you would have someone to depend on?
Then, you started dating James, and you found a level of trust you never knew was possible. You know you can depend on him for anything.
When you admitted to him why you never drink when you go out, he swore up and down that he would be there for you.
Remembering his promise summons a wave of courage. You shoot James a nervous smile, and take your first sip, scrunching your nose as it burns your tongue.
"This is kind of gross."
James barks a laugh, "We can try to find something you'd like better next round. That is, if you decide to have another."
Feeling brave, you do have another. That's when you discovered something called the Cosmic Lemon Fizz; a drink that sparkles with edible glitter and manages to be blue, green, and yellow all at once. You laughed when you saw it, not knowing how in for it you were.
"Jamie!" you exclaim after taking a sip of your third Cosmic Lemon Fizz. "This tastes like happy feels!" you gasp as if the thought had just occurred to you, despite this being the fourth time you tell him.
"I bet it does!" James cheers. His eyes wrinkle in the corners as he beams at you.
"You should try one!" you declare, and immediately try to flag over the bartender.
James smoothly takes your hand, stopping you as he says, "No can do. Made a promise to a pretty girl that I wouldn't have a drop tonight."
You whip your head around. "Who!?" you ask, eyes wide.
"Who do you think, pretty girl," he says, poking you in the side.
Giggles escape you and you swat his hand away. He doesn't go far, lifting his arm to brush some stray hairs out of your face. His hand lingers on the side of your face, soothing the pad of his thumb against your cheek.
You lean into his touch, gazing up at him with an affectionate glaze in your eyes; a look that gives him butterflies.
"Wowww," you say dreamily. "You're handsome."
James feels his heart flip in his chest. "Thank you, love," he says, a soft smile playing at his lips.
"Hey," Sirius says, appearing out of nowhere as he lazily throws an arm over your shoulders, "How's it going over here?"
While you're distracted with Sirius, James waves over the bartender and replaces your drink with water. The next time you reach for your glass, you hesitate.
"Where's my cosmo magic fizzy thingy?" you ask, an eyebrow raised as you glance at James.
"You must've finished it," he shrugs, acting clueless.
"That's like the oldest trick in the book. You replaced it with water and now you're trying to be sneaky!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," James feigns innocence.
You giggle, bringing the straw to your lips. "I knew you'd take care of me. I love you," you say, happily sipping your water.
James feels another eye-wrinkling smile break out on his face. "I love you too, pretty girl."
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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tadpolesonalgae · 3 months ago
Text
Bound And Discarded To Be Treasured And Known[*]
Azriel x reader
Day 3 of @acotar-omegaverse-week — All Tied Up: Oh, you’re tied up so you don’t do anything you’ll regret during your heat? Would be a shame if someone… came along and messed up that plan for you :)
a/n: my eyelids are so heavy—most of this is proofread but there are sections I’ll be checking over come morning
Warnings: smut; pussy-eating; technically dubcon since reader’s in heat; overstim?; bdsm themes; cockwarming; knots; soft Dom Az?; fluff; they’re kinda adorable; very light breeding kink; implied incorrect use of a dagger’s hilt
word count: 6,507
——————————————————————————————————————————————
“I could show you, if you’d like…?” 
Pause. 
Steady…
Deep inhale.
Okay, resume. 
Your throat rolls, wetting parched lips with a flick of your tongue as your eyes momentarily drop away from the alpha’s hazel set. There’s nothing inappropriate about what he’s offering, and yet… 
And yet.  
And yet your toes are curling in your boots and there’s molten syrup stirring in the pit of your belly. Any kind of heat is far from normal, living up here in the desolate Illyrian Steppes, and the kind that’s gently simmering within your abdomen is as normal as spotting two suns in the sky.  
“You mean…now?” That’s definitely a hint of breathlessness in your tone. A puff of mist uncurling from your lips and carried away on an icy wind slicing between you. 
Azriel rolls his shoulders carelessly, though you doubt he so much as glances about without intention. Pointed; decisive; certain. Centuries worth of lived experience and warrior training under his belt. Is there space for you to slip in, too? 
“We could meet tomorrow, if that would work better for you?” Hazel eyes rest over your features, his irises set and still. Taking you in like an expert sommelier, savouring his time distinguishing the floral notes from the bitter or sweet undertones. Swishing you around in his glass before tilting the flute upright and letting you flow across his tongue. He clears his throat. “After training, I mean. One requires a flight back up, so I’ll be here anyway.” 
“I’m not sure,” you hedge, teeth clasping at the interior of your lower lip, glancing away from what feels like an all-knowing gaze. “Starting next week I’m going to be pretty busy…”
“Busy?” Something in Azriel’s eyes changes. 
“Right.” You nod. “Baeril is flying North for a week so I’ll be cleaning things up while I have the chance.” But there’s no way he didn’t already know that. It was the General who gave him that task. Also the reason his mood has been so poor lately, given your heat is supposed to… 
You swallow, pushing the thought away. 
“I see.” The alpha before you dips his head once. “Another time, then.” He takes it smoothly, without complaint; you wish Baeril was more like him. If only he could have half the composure Azriel has, things would be significantly better. As it is though Azriel’s head dips slightly, lowering his chin to look properly at you, a smile softening the edges of his mouth. “May I walk you back?” 
You allow yourself to return his smile but it lasts for less than a second, realising where you’re going back to. “Thank you. That would be lovely.” 
“My pleasure.” 
————
There are no lingering touches on the doorstep of your home. No wash of heat where he’d usually wrap you to his chest, nor a last surge of warmth before the cool creeps in and you’re returned to the dim dampness of your house. Instead you give less than a tight smile, and it seems even Azriel’s lips contain ounces of strain as he yields you once again. 
Returning you to your husband’s uncaring grip. 
————
Busy, she had told him. Busy cleaning the house. 
Azriel knows her husband has been sent off to check in on his relatives throughout the inner camps, so by all means she should be going with him. Not that he’s complaining that her husband might be loosening his grip on the treasure that is his wife. Azriel’ll happily swoop in the moment he senses an opening. It’s not like he’s made it this far through hesitating. 
Though it is out of character for her husband to leave her. While there’s little romance between them, there is still possession. So why leave her? 
————
It’s been two days since her husband had initially set off, and three days since he’s last seen her. Ordinarily Azriel would have no cause for concern—there are days when one of them is busier than usual—but this is preciously unregulated time with her husband entirely out of the picture. 
Not that he’d had plans. The closest he’s gotten is a late night a month and a half ago, the sky having fallen to a dusky blue and the air containing the evening scent of woodsmoke. There’d been a celebration amongst the male Illyrians, cause for bonfires and ale and mead, salted meats with rosemary and indulging in crisped potatoes the size of one’s fist. Her husband had been out and both of them had known he wouldn’t be back for while. 
His fingers had found their way to her cheek, pushing at a stray hair, and then her eyes had fluttered shut. Her hands had been clasped before her chest and her chin had lifted ever so slightly. Then his head had dipped but their mouths barely even touched before a stray breeze had her eyes snapping open, a look of peril on her features. She’d taken a step back, and then another, and then she’d been muttering an apology under her breath and turning for her house. 
They haven’t spoken of it since. 
Azriel had thought he might have a chance to bring it up when he saw her next… Is she avoiding him? The thought doesn’t sit well in his gut. Surely she would have no reason to. And yet, as far as he can tell, she would’ve had no reason to pull away the night he almost kissed her. 
Wings shifting once at his back, Azriel steers his course to pass by her house. Evening is swiftly setting in, and if he isn’t quick he’ll miss his chance for the day—even he can’t deny it would be inappropriate to call in after dark, knowing she was on her own, and Azriel doesn’t want to bring any more trouble her way. Light is fading, the temperature steadily dropping with the dwindling of the sun, and the war camp is quiet as it hasn’t yet reached time for the males to sojourn down to an inn for post-dinner chatter. 
Her house is the one at the end of the street, plenty of space kept between builds to allow room for gardens where veg will spring in the summer. There are no lights on that he can see, windows dark and seemingly empty. His brow furrows. Did her husband have a change of heart and bring her along as a last minute decision? Surely he would have known. 
Keeping his pace steady, Azriel sends his shadows far on ahead, letting them curl around the back of the house, peering in dark glass to a darker interior. Empty. Strange. Surely, Azriel would have known if she’d ended up going with him… That’s her dressing robe hanging from the door; all her shoes by the front entrance, tucked between her husbands boots; the fleeced cloak she would take if she really was to travel deeper into the brutal terrain further north. Hair prickles at the nape of his neck. 
Azriel allows his shadows to sweep the area, senses on high alert as he scans for any watchful eyes. When he finds none, he walks to her front door. 
Locked. That’s fine.
Keeping his shadows aware, he calmly walks to the side, finding the large windows that let light into their living room—large enough for him to climb through, once the latch is…perfect. Shadows slip between the wood holding the glass and flip the latch open, pushing the windows ajar. 
No sooner than he’s inside, a thick scent nearly chokes him, so concentrated and sweet he has to cover the lower portion of his face at first. The window clicks shut, and hazel eyes scan the vacant interior of their sitting room. Nothing is out of place, no shattered vases or broken plates, no blood stains on the floor, but that scent. Cautiously, Azriel sniffs once, bringing it into his lungs, filling them up and spreading into his bloodstream. Whatever is producing that smell, he can feel as it courses through his body, pulse kicking up. It’s unusually hot for a house built in Illyria. It should be much more draughty, not toeing the line of sweltering. Where’s all this heat coming from? 
Not hearing any approaching footsteps, Azriel enters further into the enclosure, keeping his shadows ahead of him, patrolling corridors and doorways to keep himself hidden. 
The scent builds, so dense he wonders if he’s even breathing air anymore or whether it’s pure… His tongue shifts in his mouth, throat rolling. His mouth is watering. 
Azriel stiffens. 
An increase in temperature. Prickling skin. Excessive working of salivary glands. Blood rushing with increased fervour. …This strangely sweet scent. Azriel inhales sharply, a faint tremble in his knuckles as he wraps his hand around the bedroom’s door handle. The door opens. 
Azriel’s spine turns rigid…the scent is so much stronger. So strong his head is hurting.
But then his eyes find the bed, and his thoughts eddy away. 
Her wings are bound at her back, rendered immobile and useless; coarse, thick rope has been tied around her wrists, wrapping around her forearms so they’re pulled together at the base of her spine, so tightly snared her shoulders are taut where they’re being wrenched back from her chest; darkened fabric has been tied at the back of her head, biting into her cheeks where it’s been slipped through her mouth, wet with saliva; rope has been wound around her ankles, knees, and thighs, making it impossible for her to move save for light circles of her hips. 
The scent is coming from her. 
She’s gone into heat. 
————
How much longer? How much longer until it’s over? 
You can’t even rub your thighs together from how closely they’re bound, not even an ounce of friction to soothe the aches riddling your body. Your arms have long since turned numb, though the edges of your mouth are rubbed raw and sore. Heat swelters beneath your skin, temples dewy and a thick gleam coats your body where sweat has permeated through the pores of your flesh. 
It’s pure hell. 
Exactly what Baeril had intended when he’d tied you up before departing for the innermost camps set up in the frozen mountains of Illyria. After all, he wouldn’t be able to be with you after the task he’d been assigned with would take up almost all of his time, and if he was going to have to suffer through the absence of sex, then he was going to make it ten-times as torturous for you. No romance, no love; just pure possession. Your pleasure is something of his—something he wouldn’t allow you to have unless it was from him. 
A floorboard creaks behind you, and you whimper into the rag. Is he finally back? 
Your hips wind in a circle, weakly shifting in the bed as you try to do whatever you can to lure him closer, to relieve you of the ties, or at least remove the ones from your legs so he can slide between them. With the angle of your head on the pillow you can’t see him, but you try to lift onto your knees only to find yourself too weak to manage anything more than raising an inch from the mattress. 
The slicing of steel through coarse strands of rope snickers through the room and you find your ankles free, circling your feet as they tingle with feeling. You whine into the rag, squirming desperately beneath your bonds. Your knees part next, and the waves of heat increase the more freedom you’re allowed, the closer you come to being able to move and receive. A rough hand wraps around the top of your thigh, holding you in place as the blade slips beneath the rope, severing the final tie.
With a pained whimper, your legs press together, managing to half-roll onto your side, thighs rubbing against one another to invite more of that delicious heat to gather. A calloused palm wraps around your upper arm, probably to sever the ropes binding your upper body but you shift before he can continue. 
You don’t need any more freedom—you just need him to fuck you. 
————
Azriel’s back teeth might split beneath the tension that’s clenching in his jaw. 
Now her legs are free, she’s managed to work herself into what she deems an ample position: knees pushing into the cushioning of the mattress a little further than shoulder width apart, her spine curving to invite him closer, face pressing deeper into the pillows. He can’t imagine the rope around her wings or arms being anything less than painful, but it seems her heat is taking priority. 
He could instruct her to lie down, to let him cut the ropes on her body, but he doesn’t want to alarm her. She’ll be expecting her husband, not him. What if she doesn’t want him now she’s in heat? Fuck, they haven’t even had their first kiss, and yet he’s on his knees behind her and trying not to think about how perfectly they’re aligned. All he’d need to do is push her dress up, loosen the ties of his leathers, and that would be it. 
The only problem is that it would be unforgivably wrong. 
Her legs are open, her hips circling faintly, needy sounds pouring into that gag, but none of it is for him. He needs to cut her free. 
Gritting his teeth tighter, he leans over her enough to slide the cold steel of the blade between the first three coils of rope, severing them like fabric scissors through silk. No sooner than her arms are freed, her legs have wrapped themselves around his hips, her left shin and foot wrapping around his back so she can haul her right to lock at his back. Muscles flex in her wings as her arms push beneath her, lifting herself up as she squeezes with her legs, aligning his hips with her centre, thighs working to keep them flush tight together. 
Azriel exhales harshly, his palms working to disentangle her legs from his waist but it’s like she’s locked in, having grown impossibly strong in order to gain what she wants. She squeezes him once more, and her grip is tight enough he’s pulled forward, hands slamming down either side of her in the mattress, narrowly avoiding knocking her wings. 
He can hear the whimpers stuck in her throat, the way her body is shifting beneath her own, and he forces himself to get a grip. He has to keep steady. He’s working to help you, not take advantage of you. Shadows curl, and he retains enough control over himself to have the steel blade slicing through the ropes around your wings before pushing himself away, ripping from your grip. 
A pained noise moans from behind the rag, and Azriel watches as she tries to weakly shift upright, her upper arms shaking as pheromones filter through the already thickly sweet air. His mouth opens in preparation to explain, but she’s already turned around on her knees, fingers splayed delicately between the sheets, her pupils dilated and lips parted as they try to work around the gag. 
Both of them freeze when their eyes lock, neither having been prepared for the current situation. 
————
Azriel. 
His name alone provides more comfort and relief than you’ve received in the past week, a cool sweep of lightheadedness coursing through your body. 
It’s Azriel, and everything’s okay. 
You manage to sit back on your knees, hands trying to release the gag from your mouth and you could cry from frustration when your fingers fumble, being unfamiliar with whatever way he’d tied the pieces together. 
Azriel’s throat rolls once. “Here.” He says. “Let me.” 
Your hands fall away, shuffling closer so he can work on the tie. Your chest rises up and down, eyes flitting from his dilated hazel set to the inviting heat of his soft mouth, how good his lips will feel. 
The gag loosens, and Azriel meets your gaze, a deep apology already held on the tip of his tongue. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice thick and heavy, scratching at your ears, “I’ll find you some medicine, just—” 
Your arms lock over his shoulders, flinging your weight into his chest, mouth colliding with his own. Gods, if your eyes were open they would have rolled to the back of your skull, indulging in the heaven of his hair between your fingers, soft and smooth and silky. Clean and taken care of. Need pounds between your legs, pressing your hips tight to his front as your nails scrape up the nape of his neck, scratching just beneath his jaw as your teeth tug on his lower lip, dragging on it sultrily. 
Hazel eyes widen by an almost imperceptible margin, fingers enclosing around your wrists but not yet making any moves. Caught between pulling you away and pushing you into the bed.
“Azriel,” you pant, retracting enough for words to narrowly fit between your mouths. A shudder of pleasure zips up your spine from the taste of his name, a flutter of arousal spasming in your lower belly. “Azriel…” It comes out more high-pitched the second time, more desperate and hoarse. What a state you must be in. How long have you even been lying there? 
You don’t think about it. You just want to taste his name once more. 
But, “Wait,” he instructs, forcing himself to retreat. A noise of pure pain breaks from your chest, nails finding purchase in his well-muscled shoulders, trying to keep him from leaving as you shake your head. “Azriel, please. Please don’t…” You stare up at him, palms gripping onto him in supplication. “Please…” Hot water drips down your cheek, overwhelmed by wild hormones gushing through your bloodstream, making everything too much and so, so, confusing. 
“I just need to find you medicine,” he tries to reason but you can hear the unsteady inhale of breath, the heightened staccato of his pulse. “Then you’ll be thinking clearly again. A little.” 
“Fuck me,” you breathe, ignoring what he’s trying to tell you. “Please.” You push your bodies closer, certain he’ll be able to feel the full press of your breasts to his chest, the inviting softness of your body and… Your mouth opens in a moan when you feel the hard outline of him digging into your lower stomach. That needs to be inside of you. Right now. 
“I can’t,” he whispers, his eyes shining at the hurt you’re clearly experiencing. “I— That would be wrong. Let me find you—”
“There’s none in the house. No one will have any up here. It’ll take hours. Help me.” You don’t know where the reasoning comes from, but maybe the desperation is making your mind work more efficiently to provide a succinct, compelling argument. “You know me. I want you. I wanted you before this. I’ll want you after. Please.” 
“Are you—”
“Yes. Please.” 
His wings have lifted at his back—perhaps he’s not even aware of it himself—looming over the broad set of his shoulders, and you just know you need them to be flared while he’s on top of you. Holding you down in the bed. His weight keeping you pinned. 
Then you’re being forcefully pushed down into the mattress, his mouth atop your own, and heat bursts throughout your body. Your thighs part, legs eager to wrap around his hips, and you—ohh. That’s good. 
A moan spills from your lips when you managed to rub against him, the thick length of him pushing at the delicate part between your legs. “Azriel,” you pant, chest heaving up and down, “Azriel I need you. Now.” 
“Right now?” 
You swirl your hips, knowing it will feel torturous to him but he clearly needs the incentive of arousal to have him acting. “Don’t hold back,” you whisper, grinding up against him, already fantasising about how good he’ll feel inside of you. How full you’ll be. His wingspan alone is promising you pleasure, but he’s also an alpha, so… Your throat rolls, wondering if you might have bitten off more than you can chew. Alphas are notoriously…well off. 
Azriel pulls back as far as you’ll. Let him, looking down at you with colour high on his cheekbones. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he pants. 
“You won’t,” you assure, cupping his jaw, squeezing his hips. His throat rolls, and you want to bite him. Lick and nip and bite. 
“Give me a safe word,” Azriel demands, his voice rough and coarse. “You need to have… So I can be sure.” He’s just as breathless as you are. “Choose one.” 
You say the first word that comes into your head. “Knot.” 
Azriel’s head falls to the crook of your shoulder and neck, groaning audibly beside your ear, his hips lazily grinding against your clothed sex. Hot breath fans your bare skin, and you incline your chin for him to access your throat but his hands are fisted in the sheets, tension lining his powerful body. “Pick a different one,” he grits out. “You’re not having knot as your—”
Your hand has slipped between your bodies, cupping him before palming carefully at the large outline in his leathers. His tension rises, his whole body going rigid before he pulls far enough back to snarl, glaring down at you. Arousal floods between your thighs, squirming beneath the heated look. “Pick a godsdamned safe word or I’m tying you back up and getting that medicine.” 
The ropes had hurt. A lot. 
So why is your skin only growing hotter at the suggestion? 
“Rope,” you manage to get out. It doesn’t make much sense but as far as safe words go, it’ll do. Azriel seems to find it satisfactory, dipping his head once. “Say ‘rope’ if it gets too much then. I’ll stop.” 
“Mhmm.” You nod instantly, whimpering when he pulls back to untie his leathers. The whimpers turn into a moan when shadow crawl up your calves, looping around your knees to keep them spread, carefully pulling away the fabric of your skirts until you’re almost bare. 
Your head tips back into the cushions when the darkness swipes up the centre of your sex, flicking over your clit. They make to curl around the band at your hips but Azriel curses foully under his breath, hazel eyes so dark they’re nearly black as he gazes between your parted thighs. You’d gone into heat the day Baeril had left, cunt practically drooling slick every minute of every hour since then. The sheets are more than soaked, and your underwear is practically suctioned to your sex, strands of arousal webbing between your thighs. 
Azriel groans softly before both his palms are wrapping beneath your knees, allowing their underside to slot between his thumbs and second fingers. Your spine arches, thighs trembling as he buries his face between your legs creating a wild fluttering sensation in your lower belly, hips circling as you rub against whatever friction he’ll provide even if it means soaking his face in the process. If he likes it then you’re fine to adhere. Who are you to refuse pleasure?
The orgasm breaks across your skin with violent force, your breathing stuttering as your spine arcs off the bed, cunt fluttering around nothing as he licks up the wet mess between your thighs. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking tenderly on the sensitive part and you could cry from satisfaction. How relieved you are he innately knows where to touch. Even after the orgasm has finished washing through your body, it feels like only a few litres of pleasure have been released from behind a one-hundred foot tall dam. 
“Azriel,” you pant, tugging at his hair. “More. I need more. Please.”
“So quickly?” He drawls, though it comes out breathless. You squirm, trying to free your legs from his grip, your knees still practically shoved to your chest to make room for him. “You’re being cruel,” you cry, winding your hips, needing him inside. He seems to take pity on you there, releasing your legs to prowl up your torso, taking your dress with him, nearly tearing it clean from your body—you wouldn’t have minded. But now you’re naked and completely exposed save for the underwear at your hips, and Azriel’s looking like he might try and make you cum from licking and playing with your breasts alone. Then again with the aid of your heat, anything’s possible. 
Almost reverently, Azriel thumbs across one of your nipples, watching your reactions with a keenness that has a fire simmering in the pit of your stomach. But, “Azriel…” you whimper. “Not now…” 
Hazel eyes soften, then he’s nodding his head. Swallowing. “I’ll take care of you.” 
Breaths pant between you and your tongue wets your lips when you see his hand wrapped around his cock, the tip holding a bead of precum and your cunt aches as it swells with liquid before drizzling down his tip. You need to taste him. Gods he’s going to feel so good inside of you, and you hold your legs apart to make room for him. 
“You’re going to tell me if you need time, okay?” Azriel instructs, drawing your attention to his eyes. “We can go slower if it’s too much. Take as much time as you need.” 
“Put it inside,” you beg, hips shifting eagerly, ready to take him. “It’ll fit.” Azriel pauses, glancing at you doubtfully, “I’ve barely touched you. If it’s too much you’re taking my fingers instead. I’m not going to hurt you.” But you shake your head, need coursing through your veins, and he’s right there. 
“You wouldn’t have been made that big if you wouldn’t fit me.” 
Azriel groans, but it’s clear he’s struggling. Why is he struggling, he just needs to slide in. It’ll be fine. Why’s he waiting? What’s taking him so long? Why’s he not going in? 
His tip presses to your entrance and you freeze with anticipation. Almost there. 
Scar-roughened fingers lace with your own, gently pinning your hands to the bed as he leans his weight over you. 
He goes slowly as he’d told you he would. Inch by inch. Sliding deeper, and deeper. Air is pushed from your lungs, and even while he’s still you can feel his cock pushing upward against that spot. A few strokes of his thumb over your clit and you’ll be gone. Hazel eyes lock with yours, blinking before his brows raise, glancing lower as his hand slides between you. One. Two…
“Oh.” 
————
Azriel’s breath is trapped in his lungs as she flutters around him.
He hasn’t even moved yet and she’s coming on his cock. 
Her lips are parted and she looks like she’s in heaven right now. 
And she did say to not hold back. 
————
You don’t get a chance to hold onto anything when he draws his hips back and suddenly pushes back in before the aftershocks have even properly faded. 
You don’t have room to moan when he repeats the action but harder. 
You don’t have space for thought when he makes it a regular pace, fingers digging into your hips to angle them up from the bed so his cock can rub against that spot that had you coming so fast before. 
You don’t get a chance to fully acclimatise to the onslaught of pleasure. 
He’s perfect. 
Your hips lift in time to meet his thrusts, winding and bucking to take everything he can give, eager to have him filling you up until he’s making the sheets as wet as you are. Your spine arches as he holds your legs apart, roughly slamming into you over and over, hitting that spot again and again until you’re screaming with pleasure, head tipped back and mouth completely open, being fucked further up the mattress with every snap of his hips. 
“Is that better?” He asks and you’re astounded by the mild tone. He’s currently obliterating your world and yet he sounds completely in control. You manage a nod and he lowers his mouth to the hollow of your throat, halting the sharp thrusts but keeping you tightly pulled to his hips as he licks up the side of your throat. You feel more down-to-earth than you have over the past two days, and you’re approaching the peak of your heat right now. He’s keeping up with you. 
“Sit in my lap for a bit?” 
You hear the question but can manage little more than a series of dazed blinks. Then a vacant nod. 
His lips curve and hazel eyes twinkle, then his powerful arms are sliding beneath your back and hauling you upright, shifting the both of you so his back is against the headboard and you’re straddling his lap. Your knees sink down into the bed and his cock presses against your inner walls. 
“I can see you…you’re inside of me.” Your palm tentatively settles over the bump in your lower belly, shifting your hips faintly over his lap to feel him rub against you. “Az…you…oh.” 
His shadows wrap around your middle, stroking your sides soothingly as they squeeze your abdomen, the pressure having your eyes flutter with pleasure. “You feel so good,” you breathe, lips staying parted on the exhale, a blissed out heaviness to your half-open eyes. “So right, inside.” 
“You’re adorable,” he chuckles breathily into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning ticklishly across the intimate expanse, fangs dragging teasingly along. His lips curve against your throat, and a small, needful hum simmers in your chest. “So perfect.” 
Teeth prod into your lower lip, fingers tangling in the silky strands of his hair. He smells delicious. Clean but distinctly male. Distinctly himself. “You’re perfect,” you argue back, hardly louder than a murmur. You pull back to look at one another, your skin heating with the strange intimacy. 
“Why’d you stop?” You ask, playing with the ends of his hair. Azriel doesn’t avert his gaze, palms spanning the sweep of your hips, thumbs stroking faintly. “Lift up,” he tells you, softer than a whisper; a gently uttered command. You flush at his low cadence, but obey. 
Try to obey. 
You’re stuck. 
Azriel groans softly when you squeeze him, fingers digging into your hips when you try to start riding him, instincts urging you to have him releasing. 
“Az, why-”
“Slow down. It’s okay.” His palm settles atop the crown of your head, stroking gently. “I should have pulled out before it formed. Just wait until it goes away then I promise we can start again.” 
“But I want to take it,” you insist, leaning into his chest. “I want your knot.” His throat rolls but he doesn’t relent. “I don’t regularly take a tonic, pretty thing.”
“That’s fine. I still want it.” 
“You want it now,” he stresses that last part, still remaining steady. You don’t feel like he’s chastising you. “What about when you’re not in heat?” 
“I’ll still want it. Please.” 
Azriel shakes his head, eyes still soft despite their hunger. “When your heat passes we can talk more about…what will happen between us. For now…”
“Us?” You ask, pulse spiking. 
“Is that… Do you not want an us?” 
“I want an us. What about-”
“Please don’t say his name right now.” You flush, tightening around him, shifting in his lap. “Well, what about that? I’m married…” 
“It’s illegal to confine someone in the way he did to you. Especially since I’m assuming he knew you were going into heat?” You nod your head, choosing not to think about what could have happened had Azriel not shown up. A muscle feathers in his jaw before he continues. “Then that’s a kind of torture. More than enough ground for departure.” His throat rolls. “If you…?”
“Are you sure?” 
He stares at you. 
You glance away. “You aren’t-…I mean, this isn’t lust speaking, is it? You’ll mean what you’re saying once you’re done with me?”
“Done with you?” 
“Once my heat is passed…” 
He’s still staring.
“Have I said something wrong?” You ask, once again shifting in his lap. 
Scar-roughened palms cup your cheeks, hazel eyes shining as he pulls you closer. “I’ve been hoping to take you from him for the past three years.” Your heart flutters in your chest, leaning into the solid heat of his chest. “Once your heat is passed, it’s your choice what to do, but know I’d like to be part of it still. In whatever way you might let me.” 
“Are you…”
“I’m serious.” His thumb swipes across the crest of your cheek. “I can tell you this all again once your heat is passed, if that will help. I want to… I want to be with you.” 
You’re too stunned to speak, heart about ready to grow its own set of wings and fly far away. Flutter to the skies and float away on a warm breeze. 
You shift in his lap once more, still able to feel his knot inside of you—not as big as before but definitely still there. Your tongue swipes across your lips. “Emerie…will have something. To prevent pregnancy, I mean.” His throat rolls, and your teeth tug at the interior of your lower lip. “So, as long as I can take that within the next day…” You roll your hips gently over his own, tightening around him as your hands slowly glide up his chest. 
“When I leave to get…a tonic.” He seems to be having a hard time getting through this one. “Will you be okay?” You blink, averting your eyes as you consider. You’d rather he didn’t leave…you don’t want to endure any more of that heat without reprieve, but you so badly want to take his knot. To feel him spill inside of you. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive without that. 
Your eyes catch on a sheath strapped to his thigh. The smooth metal handle of the dagger he’d used to cut you free. Curved and cylindrical. 
You clear your throat, feeling the heat begin to return. “Is that clean?” 
Beneath you Azriel freezes. “…Yes.” 
“And…so…would you mind if I…” 
“No.” He tries to clear his throat. Swallows. “No, it’s fine. You can use it.” His voice strains over that last part. “I’ll clean it again, before leaving you. But yes. You’re more than- I mean, I don’t mind. If it will help you, then please-”
Your lips press to his, and the rigidity begins to thaw. Gently circling your hips, you want to entice him to make you move, to angle and direct you as he pleases. The thought alone of having him guide you has wild butterflies coming alive between your legs.
“Give it to me,” you whisper, nails scratching lightly beneath his jaw. “Let me take it.” Azriel nods, looking up at you as though dazed. His eyes are glazed, lips parted, fingers skimming over your skin. “I want…I want you to use me to get there,” you utter softly, unsure whether to be embarrassed over the admission. When he twitches inside of you, you decide you’re proud of your decision.
“You want me…? To…?”
Teeth prod at your lip, and you nod your head. “I want you… To…”
Azriel swallows thickly but nods nonetheless. “Okay.”
Hands readjust their grip on your hips, fingers spanning up to your waist before he lifts you from his lap—as far as you can go—then sliding you back down. His breathing stutters and you try to vaguely follow his directions, lifting up, then down, using the muscles in your legs to ride him as much as you can.
He’s growing bigger inside of you. Swelling at the base of his cock. Locking you tighter together until it’s impossible to slide much up or down. Instead he inclines your body into him, breasts pressing flush to his chest, your fingers scrambling at the hem of his clothes, encouraging them away so he’s bare.
Powerful arms wrap around your back, minding your wings while keeping you plastered to his front. It feels good, to be held like this during sex. The tenderness is something you hadn’t known was an option, but now he’s so freely offering it to you you’re taking it with both hands, arms wrapping over his shoulders.
A moan is pushed from your chest when he bucks his hips, his arms keeping you strapped to his torso, shadows delicately snaring your forearms to bind them as they’d been when he found you.
“Is this okay?” He whispers, lips tickling the shell of your ear. “It’s good,” you reassure, too caught up in pleasure to really think.
Azriel bites his lip as he holds you upright, letting his shadows roam across your front, his palms playing with your breasts, thumbing across your nipples before trailing back down to your hips. Bucking up into you. Guiding you to rock back and forth, your clit rubbing over his abdomen.
“Azriel…I’m…”
He nods. “Good.”
“But what about you…?”
“I’m nearly there…just keep…” He cuts himself off with a deep groan, one you can feel vibrating through your own body, sending tremors up your thighs.
He twitches twice, then he’s filling you up, knot swollen to its full size so it’s impossible to lift off him, locked together while he empties himself inside. Your lips part with pleasure, another orgasm rolling through your limbs, spreading to your tip toes and fingertips. It’s the most powerful one yet, ecstasy heightened by his own orgasm, feeling as he fills you up so perfectly.
Azriel holds you all the way through it, shadows stroking tenderly up and down over your body, putting soothing touches into your skin before eventually unraveling from your arms, allowing you to reach out for him. Fingers interleaf with your own, squeezing faintly.
It’s different knowing this isn’t temporary. That it’s not just sex. That there is romance, and it’s not just possession.
Maybe it’s more than just romance. He had almost kissed you before you’d run away…
You’ll just have to trust that he’ll keep caring after this immediate heat is passed. That he really does want to take you away, and be with you. And looking at him now…feeling the gentle touch, the light patterns he’s drawing on your skin, waiting patiently for you to signal whether you want more or a break…
You smile, inclining your head until your noses are brushing. Close enough to feel the stutter of air his lashes send your way. “I want you to stay with me. After this is passed.”
Hazel eyes blink, his lips softening at their corners. “I’d wish for nothing more.”
Your toes curl, a fluttery feeling in your heart, and you press a small kiss to his mouth.
His knuckles graze your cheek before cupping you jaw, indulging in the sweet press of you lips.
Perfection.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
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