#to get ready for washing and painting but :((

[sunflowerwinds]

new look | s.a

summary: your girlfriend surprises you with a new haircut and piercing while your babysitting isha for the night. with her new arm missing, sevika adapts to one arm. being as caring as you were, you try to help her as often as possible.

pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane

contains: nothing but fluff, tiniest bit of angst if you squint, isha & jinx being sevika and reader’s daughters <3

word count: 2.2K

a/n: TWO ONESHOTS IN ONE DAY??? i’m insane. also arcane ends soon and i’m genuinely so terrified omfg. enjoy MY LOVES!!!

It was a night when Jinx decided to swing by you and Sevika’s place to drop off Isha for a few hours when your girlfriend revealed her new look.

You were cooking a simple rice and chicken meal with Isha being your little helper for the night. She was perched up on the counter, bunny ears on the top of her messily blue-painted hair to match the girl she admired the most. Her head was tilted as her small yellow tight covered legs swung back and forth as she awaited your next instruction, golden eyes wide with curiosity.

“Okay now, my little sous-chef, can you pass me…” You hum as you stare at the raw chicken on the cutting board, thinking about what seasoning to add other than salt and pepper. “Oh! Cayenne pepper, please.”

Isha nodded with a determined expression, turning her body to look at the small rack of spices on the countertop. She reaches over to snatch the seasoning of your choosing, placing the container in your palm. You grin at her, bopping her tiny nose with your finger. She scrunches her nose back with a laugh under her breath.

“Thank you. Now I’m going to lather it to spread the seasoning around so every bite is delicious,” you explain to the child even though you were about 90% sure she was just watching you.

You place the first cutlet into the pan, watching it sizzle against the metal. Isha’s mouth drops with a soft gasp, holding onto her bunny ears as she leans over to watch the little bubbles pop in the oil. As you wash your hands to be rid of raw chicken and crumbles of seasoning lingering on your fingertips, you make sure to keep an eye on the adorable child.

You dry your hands on a soft gray beaten-down towel hanging off the stove, turning back to cooking the chicken. You’re so distracted with flipping the few chicken breasts over that you don’t even hear the front door open. It isn’t until Isha jumps off the counter, letting out an excited noise as she scurries to the front door.

“Hey! Isha, you need to be careful…” You trail off as your eyes follow to where she is running.

There stood your girlfriend in a dark gray tank top and her usual pair of low-waisted pants with a leather belt holding them up. You immediately noticed the extreme haircut your girlfriend had gotten, eyebrows raising as you made your way over to her. Her arm patted Isha’s back as the child snuggled her face to one of her meaty legs.

“Sevika?” You chuckle out of shock as you walk over to cup the sides of her face.

“You like it?” She asks timidly, her lips twitching into a grin at your bright eyes.

You nod slowly, eyes widening when you catch a glimpse of a small dot underneath her bottom lip. You tug her face closer, causing her to make a noise of surprise at the jolt.

“And you got a labret piercing?” You gasp.

“Thought I’d… get a new look, you know?” Sevika chuckles at how close you are examining the fresh piercing and haircut.

“You look…” You pause trying to find the right word. You glance down at Isha who was now staring up at the large woman, examining her new look as well. “Badass.”

You wanted to say she looked good enough to push onto your bed to take her right now but didn’t feel it was appropriate to say in front of the child. Isha nodded in agreement, signing ‘super cool’ to Sevika. You both chuckle in amusement at her words, rubbing at her fluffy hair.

“You ready for dinner?” You question the tall woman, kissing her cheek gently.

Sevika blinked as you didn’t freak out like she thought you would.

“Uh, yeah. How long do we get the kid for?” Sevika kneeled to hoist Isha up onto her only arm, letting her crawl over her shoulders.

Isha situates herself on Sevika’s shoulders, eyes widening at the sudden height change. She released soft noises of shock as Sevika made her way over to where you were now standing in the kitchen, setting all four dinner plates.

“Jinx should be here soon for dinner. She just dropped Isha off and said, ‘be back for dinner, Mrs. Lefty. Don’t wait up.’” You mimicked the blue-haired girl's voice.

Sevika hummed at your words as she grabbed her designated plate which you had carved her initial into. You beam as you feel Sevika’s lips delicately kiss your cheek, telling you thank you for dinner. Isha makes a noise along with a tap to Sevika’s head.

“What is it, kid?” Sevika questioned Isha as she set her plate down where she would eat.

Isha points to you and leans down to poke at Sevika’s cheek. You furrow your brows at her but when you realize what she meant, your heart softens.

“She wants to give me a kiss too, Sev,” you beam at her.

Sevika’s eyes soften as well as she holds her arm out so that Isha could climb off. She lets out a few soft grunts as she hangs off of Sevika’s large bicep, releasing her muscle to land on the wooden floors.

You lean down to her level, awaiting Isha’s kiss to your cheek. She places a hand on your shoulder and jumps a bit to give you a quick kiss, smiling satisfied now. You kiss the top of her head before motioning for her to wash her hands.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Go and wash your hands. It’s dinner time.”

Isha nods with an adorable grin as she marches to the bathroom. The second she leaves your view, Sevika turns to you with wide impatient eyes.

“Do you actually like it?” She questions, blinking her soft gray eyes at you.

You step into her with a small smile, cupping both sides of her face once again.

“Yes, Sevi. I love it. I actually like it a little too much,” you admit as you brush a few of the falling strands out of her face.

Her strong brows raise at your words, eyes flickering down to your lips.

“Yeah?”

Her demeanor switched from anxious and bashful to more self-assured. You playfully roll your eyes at her, placing a kiss to her nose as you knew you weren’t allowed to kiss her after getting the piercing.

“Mhmm, and in…” You trail off, not exactly knowing how long you had to wait until kissing her. “How long did they say you had to wait to kiss? Like a week?”

“Three.”

Your eyes widened at the time frame, scooping some rice onto your plate.

“Three weeks?” You deadpan to your girlfriend who simply nods along with you. “Well, they never I couldn’t kiss you in other places.”

Sevika’s smirk grows at your cheeky words, watching you leave her side to set Isha’s place setting. Her eyes shamelessly watch your ass and hips sway with every step in her pants.

Just as she was about to slap your ass, Isha comes running past her and you to eagerly sit at the table. Her small hands were a bit damp so you dab them dry with a towel.

“You wanna wait for Jinx to eat?” You question the girl.

Isha seems hesitant at first, the scent of the food tempting her. She nods regardless in agreement to wait for the elder.

“Good thing I’m already here!” You hear a familiar coming from behind you.

You jump, your body flinching at the sound. Sevika curses and grumbles at the blue haired girl somehow creeping her way into your home. You swore she was like a cat with how silent her movements were. Isha was the only one beaming at the sight of her, running over and hugging her striped pant legs.

“You two have to lock your door y’know? There’s some real weirdos out there.” Jinx leans down to fully hug Isha with a cheeky grin, winking at you two.

“Just wash your hands so you can eat,” you shake your head but smile at the girl regardless.

Jinx dramatically groans at your instruction but stands to her feet, her lengthy braids swaying behind her. When you give her a narrowed glare, you notice Sevika struggling with plating Jinx’s plate. She’s sighing as she keeps grabbing too much or too little meat or rice.

You frown and walk over to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Sev, babe, I got it. Go sit down and eat, okay?” You tell her softly, giving her a kind smile.

Sevika pauses her movements and she side-eyes you. The two of you had a talk about her taking a break from the mechanical arms. Jinx offered to build her another but Sevika refused; for now. You knew she would be hard-headed about getting help from you but you made sure not to make it a big deal. Little things like this in the comfort of your home made it easier.

She clears her throat with a sigh, nodding relectuanly.

“Okay,” Sevika’s hand comes up to cup your face quickly, needing to show a sign of affection as her kisses were put on hold for the time being.

You lean in it for as long as she’ll allow, which would be forever, but her stomach was betraying her. You chuckle at her rumbling gut and jerked your head to the table. Isha was already seated, spoon in hand as she waited (im)patiently for everyone else to sit down.

“Kid, you can eat. Don’t have to wait for these two lovebirds.” Jinx rounds the table from the bathroom as she plops down in her designated seat next to the golden-eyed child.

Isha, still hesitant, turns her head to look at you and Sevika. You press a couple more kisses to the woman's cheek before scurrying over your spot. Sevika followed like a puppy behind you to sit in her spot next to yours.

The second Sevika sat down, Isha dug into her food. You chuckle at her fast-paced eating before digging in yourself. You groan at the taste, nodding as you eat the meal you’ve prepared.

Sevika props her elbow up on the table as she digs into her food as well, humming at the flavor.

“This is delicious. Thank you, baby.” Sevika grins at you, nodding as she continues to eat.

“Well, thank Isha too. She helped me cook dinner tonight.” You turn to the child who was now washing some of her food down with water.

Isha set her cup down with a sheepish smile. Jinx raised her hand to brush her knuckle against her small cheek, a gentle smile on her face.

“Great work, kid. You might have to be the cook between us. Never been my strong suit,” Jinx shrugged as she devoured the meal in front of her. “I had other things to focus on.”

Isha grimaces at her words, causing you and Sevika to chuckle.

After dinner, you gave Jinx and Isha some leftovers as they left back to Jinx’s little hidden home. As you shut the door waving at the two, a new wave of silence settled over you and Sevika’s home.

You lock the door as a flash of Jinx’s face pops into your head, reminding you to do so. Sevika was washing dishes, her broad back tempting you to walk over and hold her. So you did just that.

You tip-toe over to her with a giddy grin, carefully wrapping your arms around her torso. Sevika, used to your addiction to clinging onto her, simply continued to wash the dishes to the best of her ability.

“You were a little quiet at dinner, baby.” You hum, placing kisses to the muscles decorating her backside.

She knew what that statement insinuated and she shook her head.

“I’m okay. Just… trying to get used to one arm,” she sniffs.

“I know you hate asking for help with pretty much everything but you can ask me to help.”

Sevika hums as you kiss all over her back, keeping them light and gentle. It only added to the domestic feel of your home.

“I know. It just feels—”

“Vulnerable?” You finish for her.

Sevika nods to confirm, muttering a curse when she slips up and drops a plate into the sink. You release her toned torso to scoot yourself right next to her, filling in the empty space of her left arm.

“You never have to feel hesitant to be vulnerable with me. I love being able to be that safe space for you.” You hum as you grab the plate and start washing it yourself.

Sevika turns to look at you, eyes rounded in admiration. She couldn’t believe how understanding and sweet you were considering where you both lived.

In her eyes, you were an angel in comparison to her.

“You feel safe with me, right?” You speak up as Sevika was again eerily silent.

Her gray eyes softened at your question before nodding as she rested her head on yours. You giggle at the feeling, being reminded of the height difference between the two of you.

“Always. You feel safe with me?”

“Of course, Sev.”

Standing in front of the sink, taking turns washing each dish as you spoke softly to one another. That was enough for you two.

TAG-LIST: @archangeldyke-all @theflyingforklift @strawberrykidneystone @prwttiestbunny @pumpkin-eater28 @yaeil @lunatakashi18 @caicreations @ayooooohush @lizzie2980

[asexualbookbird]

i think ive earned some big gate energy time

[dredshirtroberts]

y'know that post that's like everyone's got their special super power or whatever, it might just look a little different from the super hero movies? right?

yeah my bio family's version of that is Impeccably Bad Timing

[seventh-district]

hhhhhhh it is 9pm i just woke up and for the life of me i can’t remember if my dentist appointment is tomorrow or the next day so now i have to get ready tonight Just In Case

[scarlethexelove]

Can You Keep A Secret?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Romanoff!Reader

Word Count: 2560

Warnings: Smut, Wanda has a penis, Soft sex, Secret relationship, Reader get's pregnant, A bit of Angst, Comfort, Supportive Mom Nat, Supportive Wanda, Uhhhh idk haha

A/n: This was a little request from a friend that I've been trying to finish. Hopefully you enjoy it though. Just a little smut, so secret relationships and then having to tell Mom Nat about pregnancy and dating Wanda, while also telling Wanda your pregnant.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The sound of skin slapping with grunts and moans fill the room. Wanda has your hands pinned above your head, your legs are wrapped around her waist as she drives her cock into you. “Fuck you feel so good detka.” She buries her head in your neck as she continues thrusting. “S-so good.” You slur as the pleasure overwhelms you.It feels as Wanda is splitting you wide open as she presses her hips into yours. She is a lot bigger than anything you have taken before but she feels so good. Your bodies fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces.  

This is your first time with Wanda. She had always stopped you from going any further than kissing. She was worried that you might reject her due to her circumstance. Wanda had revealed that she had a penis. She was so scared that you might not want her anymore after finding out. While she has had hookups before in the past so their thoughts never really mattered to her but she cared more about what you thought of her which played on her fears of rejection. But once she told you all you could do was tell her how much you love her and that none of that mattered to you at all. In fact you found it pretty hot. 

So that’s how you found yourself in this position. Your girlfriend's hips slapping against yours as Wanda drives her cock into you. Your hips bucking to meet her thrust as she thrust deep inside of you. You tighten your legs that are around her waist pulling her impossibly close. Wanda moans when she feels your walls tighten around her length. A sound that you know you will never grow tired of as you do it again just to hear it from her. Your own moans echoing hers as she angles her hips perfectly to hit that sensitive spot deep inside of you. 

“So pretty.” Wanda mumbles as she leans up looking down at you. “Taking my cock so perfectly. Gonna fill you up, make you mine.” She grunts as she drives her hips harder into yours. “Yours.” You moan in response, throwing your head back and arching off the bed. Your hands grip the sheets till your knuckles bleed white. The pleasure burning through your whole body. Wanda moves her hands to your hips digging her fingers into the flesh. Both of your orgasms are quickly approaching. 

You can feel Wanda’s cock twitching inside of you ready to release her seed. You walls spasm around her ready and willing to take all that she gives you. “Please.” You whimper as you teetering on the edge. Wanda expertly brings you to the edge with every thrust of her hips. Wanda grunts as she thrust harder. “Hold it.” It takes everything in you to hold yourself on the edge. So close to falling over that you know you can’t hold it back for much longer. 

Wanda diggers her fingers deeper into your hip sure to leave a bruise later. “Cum with me.” She groans her orgasm threatening to wash over her. That’s all you need as an expertly placed thrusts hits your sweet spot making you see stars as your eyes roll back in your head. A loud moan escapes your lips as you release all over Wanda’s cock. Your walls spasming around Wanda’s length has her falling over the edge. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Wanda moans as she releases inside of you. She paints your walls white as her cum fills you up. Wanda watches in awe as a small bulge forms on your lower abdomen. She moves one her hands there and presses down where her cum has filled you up so much. You moan out from the overwhelming pleasure that gives you as more of your arousal leaks out around Wanda’s cock. 

Wanda’s thrust slows to a stop before she slowly pulls out. A whimper falls from your lips from how sensitive you are and the sudden empty feeling you now have. “Sorry sweetheart.” Wanda apologizes not wanting to cause you any pain. “Sokay.” You mumble sleepily. Now feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You hold out your arms giving Wanda grabby hands, beckoning for her to come closer and to cuddle. Wanda climbs off the bed and moves up to give you a kiss on the forehead. “In a minute detka. I’ll be right back.” Her words cause you to pout. “I promise I’ll be right back.” She pecks your lips before she makes her way into the bathroom. 

It doesn’t take long before emerging again. You can tell she has cleaned herself off and she has put on a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra. She has in one hand an oversize shirt for you and in the other hand she has a wet washcloth.  She comes over to you moving to clean you up. Cleaning you of the sweat before she gently takes the cloth between your legs and cleaning you up. Once she is done she tosses it into the hamper before she helps get you into her oversized shirt. You can’t help but bring it up to your nose and breathe in her scent. It brings you a sense of love and makes you feel safe. 

Wanda climbs into bed next to you pulling you closer to her as you lay your head on her chest. Her arms wrapping around you tightly. Her warm embrace makes you feel as if nothing else matters in the world except for the two of you. It doesn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep. “I love you.” Is the last thing you hear from Wanda as she kisses the top of your head. You mumble out incoherent words as sleep overtakes you. Wanda smiles before closing her eyes soon following you into the land of dreams.

You have felt off for what seems like weeks, but you haven’t been able to put your finger on it. You just feel off. You’re thinking of going to the doctors later if it doesn’t improve. But you go about your day as normal. You decide today would be a good day to clean so you started with the bathroom. 

You start cleaning and putting away anything that is left out that doesn’t need to be. As you open the cabinet you notice that your tampon box is empty. You think back to the last time you used one. You remember telling yourself that you needed to buy more but that seems like forever ago. A gasp escapes your lips as it all starts to make sense. “No, no, no, no, no.” You mutter as you quickly drop everything you are doing, grabbing your keys and heading to the store. 

It doesn’t take you long to get back from the store a pregnancy test in hand as you head into the bathroom. Your hands shake slightly as you open up the test. This isn’t where you thought you would be, hiding away in the bathroom a blank pregnancy test in hand. But this isn’t the time to overthink everything. So you pee on the stick and set the timer.

Time ticks by slowly as you hold the test in your hand, staring intensely at the little screen like it would make it go any faster. You know you only have to wait 15 minutes but those 15 minutes feel like an eternity. Your thoughts start to spiral as you wonder about what will happen. Your Mom is going to hate you, Wanda is going to hate you. How could you be so reckless and stupid to possibly get pregnant. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear your timer go off. Your eyes focus back on the test in your hands that you have been staring at. Pregnant flashes across the little screen, a tear slowly rolls down your cheek. You’re scared for what the future can hold now. Wanda won’t want anything to do with you after this. 

The sound of the front door slamming shut has you freezing in your spot on the floor. “Y/n.” You hear your Mom call out for you. You quickly wipe the tears that have fallen and pull yourself off the ground. The test is still in your hand. “Y/n/n.” You Mom calls out for you again. “C-Coming!” You yell back as you frantically try to figure out what to do with the test after you slide the packaging into the garbage can and cover it with the trash already in there. You shove the test into your hoodie pocket before exiting the bathroom. 

To your shock when you enter the living room Wanda is standing there with your Mom. “M-Mama, Wanda, hi.” You try to hide the fact that you are shocked. Natasha cocks her head to the side questioning when she looks at you. She can tell something is off with you. “What’s wrong?” She asks you. “Nothing.” You shake your head as you try to remain calm. Wanda gives you a concerned look but doesn’t say anything. 

Your Mom Natasha had you young and she had met Wanda a few years ago. Wanda's age is perfectly in between you and Nat. She is 8 years older than you and 8 years younger than Nat. Since the two of them started hanging out together almost 3 years ago you started to grow closer to Wanda. That was until six months ago Wanda confessed her feelings for you and you did the same. You both agreed it would be best to not tell you Mom until later. Wanting to make sure that this would work out before telling her anything. But here you are now standing in front of the two women pregnant with Wanda’s child and scared of losing everything. 

“Sweetheart, I know you are lying, just tell me what’s wrong.” Nat says softly. Your eyes flick to Wanda’s. You know you have to tell both of them but you were thinking that you would have more time than this. Time to figure out what to say. Tears slip down your cheek as you realize you just need to rip the bandaid off. You can see Wanda hesitate as her desire to comfort you is blocked by the fact that Nat doesn’t know about your relationship. “You’re going to hate me Mama.” Your voice trembles as you pull at the sleeves of your hoodie. “Detka I could never hate you.” Nat steps closer to you taking your fidgeting hands into hers to stop you. 

You let out a shaky sigh before looking up into your Mom’s eyes. All you can see is love and understanding in her eyes. “I’m pregnant.” You say quietly but it’s just loud enough that both women can hear you. You catch a glimpse of Wanda with a shocked face but your Mom’s is stoic. You can’t read her reaction. You’re an adult but right now you feel so small in front of the women, like this could somehow ruin your life. 

“I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone sweetheart.” Nat finally speaks. “I’m so sorry Mama I didn’t mean to.” You cry softly. Nat pulls you into her arms making you miss how Wanda’s face flashes with excitement. “Baby girl you’re an adult there is nothing to be sorry for.” Nat kisses the top of your head as she comforts you. It doesn’t take long for you to calm down in her arms before she is pulling you away so that she can get a good look at you. “Can I ask who the other parent is? Do I know this person?” You hesitate. You know that now you will have to tell Nat the truth about you and Wanda. Even though you’re still worried about what Wanda will think, you let your eyes drift to her. “Please don’t be mad.” Your eyes snap back to your Moms. “I promise I won’t be mad.” You take some deep breaths trying to calm your now racing heart. “Wanda.” You mumble. 

You’re not even able to comprehend what is going on at first as Wanda comes over taking you into her arms and lifting you up. She spins you around happily. “We’re having a baby.” You can hear the excitement in her voice. She puts you back down on the ground hugging you close to her and mumbling in your ear. “We’re having a baby.” 

Wanda’s excitement broke Nat out of her stupor as she looked at the both of you. “Wanda?” Nat’s voice is monotone. You look past Wanda now at your Mom. You can see as she runs through the different emotions of the situation. Her friend Wanda has gotten her daughter pregnant. “Mama you promised.” Wanda moves so that she is standing beside you but she has her arm wrapped around you protectively.

Nat’s mouth opens and closes a few times as she tries to find the right words to say. “Okay.” Was all she could settle on.”Okay?” You question. “Okay.” Nat repeats. “You’re an adult and you can make decisions on who you are with. I'm not going to stop you.” You breathe a sigh of relief as Nat’s eyes flick to meet Wanda’s. “If you hurt her I will kill you, you hear me Maximoff.” Nat’s voice is stern. “I would never want to hurt her.” Wanda smiles and looks at you. “I love her too much.” You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I love you too.” 

The world seems to fade away as you turn to really look at Wanda. Her hand moves to your hips holding you closer and your arms wrap around her neck. Nat takes this as the time to give you two some privacy so she slips away. “You’re not mad?” You look down as you question Wanda. One of her hands leaves your hip as she hooks her finger under your chin and makes you look up at her. “I could never be mad at you detka.” You search her eyes for any hint of a lie but you find nothing all you find is love and admiration. “But I got pregnant.” Your voice comes out small, still afraid of what she might say. “Oh baby girl, it takes two to make a baby. We did this together and I’m going to be with you every step of the way. I love you Y/n more than anything in this world. I have wanted nothing more than to have a family of my own and I can’t think of anyone better to start it with.” Wanda’s words bring more tears to your eyes, but this time they are happy tears. “I love you.” You mumble as you move your arms to wrap around her tightly and bury your head in her neck. 

You know this won’t be easy but you know now that Wanda isn’t going to leave your side. She loves you and you know she already loves your little one so much. You can’t believe you were so scared to share the news with her and even with your Mom. They both will support you no matter what life throws at you. It’s all you could have ever hoped for. 

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

roomies | s.r. x gn!reader

“i don’t think he’s gonna agree.”

“he’s gonna agree cause he promised me at least once.”

derek and penelope bickered outside the dark wood of spencer reid’s apartment. the said promise was going to a bar with a majority of the team, gideon and hotch declining. jj and emily were already at their usual bar, derek was sulking due to being dragged into this side mission, already expecting a lengthy no.

penelope rapped her knuckles to the wood, “well tonight might be the night he surprises you.” her toes giving a slight bounce while waiting about ten seconds.

there was the sound of footsteps on the other side and the twisting of a lock. the door swung open all the way and insteade of the slender doctor reid greeting them, they stood in front of someone unknown.

“can i… help you?” you asked the two strangers on your doorstep. their faces showing clear confusion and curiosity.

the chubby blonde open and closed her mouth before asking, “does- does a spencer reid live here?” twisting her rings. penelope was positive this was spencer’s address, but she didn’t want to come off as a stalker or something.

your body shifted a bit, from kinda loose to now more concerned. “who’s asking?” eyeing them both skeptically.

derek took the moment to mess around. he pulled his badge from his jacket pocket and flashed it, with a straight and serious voice he said, “the fbi. we need to ask doctor reid some questions.”

you called over your shoulder, “spence! the fbi is here!” keeping them outside the threshold.

there was quick steps from inside that grew closer and over your shoulder, spencer popped into view. he stood beside you, “what are you guys doing here?”

you looked at him, “you know them, right?” fingers messing with the shiny knob. spencer quelled yours nerves with a shy smile, “they work with me at the bau.” your mouth shaped into an ‘o’ at the information.

“you gonna introduce us, boy wonder? being a rude house guest.” the blonde reached an arm out to wack at spencer’s bicep. you and the other man chuckled at her antics.

“this is penelope garcia, our analysis. and derek morgan works in the field with me.” you outstretched a welcoming hand, “i’m y/n, his roommate.”

derek was the first to shake hands, “pretty boy never told us he shared a space with anyone. you know, with his thing about germs.”

“i’ve know him since high school. moved here for college, so it worked out. he’s more open to it since we’ve known each other for a while.” shrugging off derek’s assumption.

“oh!” a yelp from the blonde, penelope, “you should join us for drinks tonight. maybe it’ll convince this one to join us.” she’s pointed a painted finger at spencer, “i’m cashing in your promise.”

you cocked a brow, “promise?” asked for anyone to answer. penelope did, “this one promised that he would come out with us once, well more like forced out if it’s been awhile. and it has, so it’s now the two of you we’re dragging along.” she clapped her hands together twice, “come on. the night isn’t long for us.”

you weren’t gonna force spencer out, but it did sound promising. “i could use a break…” mumbled out the side of your mouth. you looked at spencer who locked eyes with you, he twisted his mouth then sighed, relenting to his fate. “fine, fine. we’ll meet you there.”

“oh! this is gonna be so fun! i can’t wait to chat with you.” penelope reached in for an impulse hug, one you reciprocated after a moment pause. you chuckled, “same here.”

your two guest shortly left and spencer closed the door behind him. you turned to him with crossed arms over your chest and a playful pout to your lips, “kinda hurtful they didn’t know about me.”

spencer licked his lips with a bashful smirk, “wanted you to myself for a while.” cupping into your cheeks and pressing a soothing kiss to wash away your puckered lips. “best get ready, they can get impatient very fast.”

[daycourtofficial]

Azriel’s Girls

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 2.6k | warnings: none

Summary: you overhear a conversation between Azriel and his brothers that has you second guessing your boyfriend’s faithfulness. What will you find when you follow him out one night?

Author’s note: two fics one day! This is crack lmao I wrote this in a blur this afternoon from a silly convo with @milswrites @prythianpages and @ninthcircleofprythian lmao

You and Feyre came into the River House giggling over the amount of paint that covered the both of you. The two of you stop laughing long enough to look at each other, before devolving into fits of giggles once more. One of the boys in the studio had insisted on today’s topic being finger painting, which led to the children essentially dipping their hands into paint before smearing it over all of your clothes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to shower here?” Her voice is soft and kind, a slight rasp to it from talking to the kids all afternoon.

“Thanks Fey, but I’d rather shower at home so I can slip into my pajamas and go to sleep.” You look away from her, as if you could see him through the walls. “Maybe I can even convince Azriel to rub my back. I shouldn't have given some piggy back rides.”

Feyre hums, a soft ‘told you so’ on her tongue, but you give her a pointed look and she keeps it to herself.

“Well, I’m going to go wash up. Good luck finding the boys.”

Her voice floats down the hallway she takes, and you start thinking about where to look - the most obvious place being Rhys’s study. Your feet pad through the halls until you start to hear three loud laughs coming from the cracked study door.

You keep moving towards the source, ready to make your presence known, when you hear Cassian say, “when will you see them again?”

Your boyfriend responds with a soft, “tonight”, eliciting raucous laughter from his brothers. You still, pressing yourself towards the wall, tilting your head in contemplation.

Azriel had told you he had plans tonight, that he was doing something important for Rhys. Had he lied to you?

Cassian’s voice cuts through your train of thoughts, “I’m sure the girls at Rosehall have been missing you.”

Rosehall?

You scrunch your eyebrows, trying to remember if you had ever heard of Rosehall. Was it somewhere in Velaris? Was it a pleasure hall? Who were these girls Cassian spoke of?

Had your sweet Azriel been sneaking around, and his brothers were aware of it? Had they been condoning it?

“I haven’t been able to see them in a while, they’ll be glad for the company.”

“I’m sure they’ll be crawling all over you, brother.”

Their laughs were knives in your heart. Did everyone know? Were you nothing more than a fool to them? Nothing more than a mere joke to these males? Your mind was racing, not paying any mind to the rest of the conversation as you ran down the hall into the kitchens, getting yourself a glass of water. You chugged it, the cool liquid giving your racing thoughts something else to focus on. Like a plan to figure out the truth.

After a few minutes of allowing yourself to seethe and panic, you retraced your steps towards Rhys’s study with your plan in tow: get to Rosehall, find out who these girls are, and yell and scream at Azriel and his brothers for playing you for a fool. As you approach, the males within were now speaking of some sporting event you were not the slightest bit interested in. Azriel’s face brightens as you knock and enter, pushing the door that was slightly ajar. You hate the way your heart picks up a bit at seeing him, at seeing how his face lights up at your presence, your cheeks heating at his attention.

He’s a lying, backstabbing, good for nothing-

“How was painting with Feyre?”

The attention from all three of them pulls you from your thought spiral and you choke on your own spit, coughing a bit. Azriel’s smile turns into a look of concern as he watches you, but Cassian chuckles. “Did you eat the paint by accident?”

Rhysand’s low tone chimes in, “I believe she’s wearing half the paint in Feyre’s studio, and I’m sure my mate’s wearing the other half.”

You chuckle, “uh yeah, Feyre was heading to shower when I left her.”

Rhys dips his head, “that's my cue to leave. BRothers, always a pleasure until better things come along. I’ll see you all later.”

Cassian laughs as Rhys disappears in front of you all, “horny bastard.”

Azriel glares at his brother, “and the pot calls the kettle black.”

Cassian scoffs, flicking his wrist in the air, “pish posh, Azriel. The past is the past.”

“Your past was last week when everytime I came back to the House of Wind for two weeks I got front row seats to your ass.”

“Well, it's our house. And I have a fantastic ass.”

Cassian flexes his thighs, as if Azriel just had to see it to mitigate his annoyance.

“I live there too.”

Cassian shrugs, as if this was a matter of opinion to just accept differences over.

Azriel looks back to you, his eyes making you feel warm, just as they always did. But the warmth was quickly devolving into a ball of anger and sadness, warming your stomach with jealousy and annoyance.

You slap a smile onto your face as you look towards Az, taking in his lazy grin as Cassian slaps him on the back. “I’m off to see Nes. You kids have fun!”

Cassian walks toward the balcony, taking to the skies. Azriel turns toward you, offering his hand so the two of you could embark as well. You accept his hand in yours, a little part of your mind telling you this is the last time you’ll do this. You laugh, pushing the thoughts to the side as you allow Azriel to pick you up, the two of you shooting up into the air.

Azriel flies you back to your apartment, his wings expertly moving over the streets of Velaris. You can’t help the smile on your face as you two fly through the air, watching the people below you until he lands right in front of your home.

You open the door for the both of you, and he follows closely behind. He chuckles at your paint covered clothes, and you fidget slightly, wanting him to make the move to leave.

The clock in your living room chimes, and his gaze moves towards it. “It’s getting late, I have to go. Will you be okay?”

You nod, your arms tightening around yourself. He takes your nervous energy as your hatred for sleeping alone, not wanting to upset you further by making you speak about it.

“How long will you be gone?”

He ponders for a moment, “I should be back tomorrow or the day after.”

He turns toward the door, but you shoot out your hand to grab his wrist. “Can I have one of your shadows? To keep me company? I like having them around.”

One shadow in particular dances at your words, coming from behind Azriel, practically spinning in the air as it immediately rushes to you.

“I hope you like that one because I don’t think it’ll let a different one stay with you.”

You giggle as it weaves through your hair, picking it up into a ponytail before dropping it.

“Perfect, so I’ll have someone to be witness to my antics.”

You giggle, but his face is solemn as he looks at you, something feeling so off about your behavior.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His words are so soft, and every part of you wants to tell him no, I’m not okay, because you are seeing other women who will be crawling all over you once you leave from here.

Instead you nod, making up an excuse about your eyes being tired from all the painting. He kisses your forehead, his lips soft and light against your skin before pulling away and stepping out of your door before winnowing away.

You count your breath for a few beats before turning to the shadow, “do you know where Rosehall is?”

-

Of all of your terrible ideas over the years, this one was perhaps the worst. You had asked the shadow where Rosehall was, expecting it to be somewhere in Velaris, likely in the parts of the city you were less familiar with. You did not expect the black wisp to wrap around your wrist and begin tugging you away from Velaris very forcefully.

You had started getting nervous when it kept pulling you towards the outskirts, but you were in it now, and you were going to see this ridiculous scheme through to the end.

The shadow had been pulling you for hours it seemed, across landscapes, your feet killing you as you walked, and somewhere several miles away from Velaris, the shadow’s hold loosened on your wrist, opting to move up and down your arm, as if telling you this was your destination.

“Are you sure this is right?”

The shadow danced all around you as if it were confirming your statement. You looked at the gated entrance, the estate so lush and green and not at all what you had expected, it took you by surprise.

This was where he brought women? To do scandalous things and have nights full of debauchery? Was this some beautiful and well-tended pleasure hall? Before you can debate going through the gate, the shadow moves forward, unlatching it and pushing it open for you.

You sigh, thinking to yourself no going back now.

You enter through the gate, preparing yourself to hear the sounds of females giggling, perhaps even moaning, but you are completely taken aback at the chorus of meows you hear, followed by a door opening, and Azriel’s soft voice calling out, “if you’re here for my mother, she has stepped out-”

His voice stops as he takes in the sight of you, the two of you standing before each other across the lush estate. His eyes swim with confusion, and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him at such a loss for words or the situation before. He continues to look at you, before realizing he’s carrying a tray of various raw meats and fish. He takes no notice of the dozen or so cats circling him, several trying to climb up his legs toward the food he carries.

“You- what are- how did you get here?”

You lift up the shadow that was entwined with your arm before it skitters off to join the other shadows playing games with the cats who weren’t paying attention to Azriel. You try not to wear the confusion on your face, hoping desperately to have some upper hand here.

“Is this Rosehall?”

Azriel sighs, setting down the food as one of the cats lunges to bite at his arm, missing and falling back into the pool of cats at Azriel’s feet.

“Yes.”

You puff up your chest, confusion seeping through your features as you ask, “and where are the females? The girls?”

“The girls?” His voice is incredulous, and you want to roll your eyes at it.

“Yes, the girls. The ones who wish to climb all over you because you haven’t been paying them attention.”

His long legs start to make their way across the front garden, the sea of cats at his feet parting as he makes his way through them. “The girls who climb over me?”

You sigh, exasperation evident, “must you repeat my words? Yes, okay fine. I overheard Cassian speaking of your plans this evening with ‘your girls’. Now why don’t you bring them out and show me to be a fool?”

A deep, belly laugh comes from his mouth, and you are utterly offended.

“Azriel, I came here to put you through the ringer for stepping out on me, and you find it funny?”

He steps forward, trying to put his arms around you but you step away from his embrace. His laughing continues as he asks, “you walked all the way here?”

“Yes.”

You stick out your chin, determined to look strong and confident.

“You walked all the way from Velaris to here, to find out I had cats?”

“Why yes, I did walk all the way here to find out-”

Your words die on your tongue as you look around, not seeing any other females anywhere. You picked up the scent of one, but the scent smelled so much like Azriel, they had to be related in some way.

He watches your nose twitch, separating out all the smells beneath the ever present smell of cat.

“My mother lives here.”

He coughs, the joyous look from his laughter gone, his hands moving behind his back. He rocks on his feet, and you found it quite endearing.

“With my cats.”

“Your cats?”

“Yes, but they’re not really mine. They just show up.”

“Your cats show up? What does that mean?”

“It means, if I spend any time in Illyria the cats seek me out. I’ve already fixed the stray cat problem in Velaris.”

He opens his arms wide.

“They’re all here. Problem solved, I suppose.”

You blink, slightly convinced Rhys had finally broken your mind and made up the most ridiculous scenario he could imagine. You feel one of the cats rub against your legs, and you bend slightly to nuzzle its face. It was pitch black with bright green eyes. It was so little, you couldn’t help but pick it up despite its verbal protests.

“You have cats.”

“Yes, and Rhys and Cassian despise the cats. Rhys says he’s allergic, but I think he’s just too worried about his damn furniture.”

“And Cassian?”

“Cats hate Cassian.”

He says this as if it’s an uncontested fact.

“How can all cats hate one person?”

“He likes to swing them by their tails.”

You nod, “okay, maybe all cats can hate one person.”

As the two of you spoke the shadows had lifted a cat up onto Azriel’s shoulders, where it stood meowing and pawing at the black wisps. You watched in bewilderment, unsure if the shadows were playing pranks or not, when the cat slid from his shoulder into the crook of his elbow, nuzzling into the warmth there.

You cross your arms, heat blooming in your cheeks at your rash decision making. “So there aren’t beautiful females here?”

“There’s one.”

“I knew i- oh. You meant me.”

You deflate once more, letting the adrenaline seep from your body. You were exhausted, well and truly. He nodded before putting the cat down, watching it scamper off into the grass. “I shouldn’t have lied about where I was going. Several dozen cats are just… a lot to spring on someone at once.”

You look to the ground, fingers scratching the ears of the kitten you were holding, “and maybe I got a little…. carried away.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “you picked the wrong shoes to hike out here from Velaris.”

You looked down at your sneakers, chuckling, “uh yeah, I definitely need to soak my feet for a bit.”

“Do you want to come inside?” He watches you hesitantly before asking, “Or I could take you home?”

You look toward the beautiful estate before peering back down at the wiggling kitten in your arms, before deciding that you did want to see Azriel’s mother’s home and to hopefully meet her. “Are you going to tell your mother about how I got here?”

He chuckles, slow and soft, “of course I am. She’d be endlessly amused.”

“Do you have any black felt? I’d love to make this little guy some wings.”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes as he puts an arm around your shoulder, leading you inside. “While you play arts and crafts, I can formally introduce you to all of the other cats.”

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @ninthcircleofprythian

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading ❣️

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Fall into me

pairing: monster!felix x afab!reader

genre: smut with horror elements hehe

word count: 2.9k

warnings: dubious content kind of, mentions of a panic attack, somnophilia, nipple play, clit play, fingering, monster cock, unprotected sex, creampie, pussy slap, spanking, squirting

a/n: a shorter spooktober experience while i work on the longer fics! hope y'all like this one too🫶🏻

~ divider by @riottsrph

~ Masterlist

Your bed.

The most comfy and safe space you can fall into.

After the most stressful and tiring days, it's a safe haven that doesn't judge you or scrutinize you for your decisions or deeds, even though it knows your deepest, darkest secrets and thoughts.

It has seen you sob uncontrollably when you're hurt, the pillow underneath you soaking up your tears as they fall down your cheeks, your body trembling in sorrow.

It has seen you giggle at the stupidest memes at that hour of the night when everything seems funny, when you can't sleep, no heavy tiredness weighing down your eyelids.

It has seen you in your most vunerable moments, moments of desire, when your hand would travel between your legs, sometimes with the help of a toy but never another person, just you all by yourself, whimpering quietly as you paint your fingers in white, reveling in the ecstasy you brought to yourself.

Yes, your bed has been there through everything. The feeling of wrapping yourself up in blankets and settling your head perfectly on the soft pillow could never be replaced, especially when it's raining out, and you know the day is done; no one to call you or bother your safety zone.

It might be silly to someone, but you look forward to falling into your bed every single day; it's everything to you, the most coziest space that exists and nothing can change that.

Today is one of those days.

Everything that can go wrong, does so. You're late to work, your boss is in a bad mood and yells at you, the customers are rude, you spill your coffee on yourself and it's just too much.

Overstimulated and tired you almost have a panic attack at work but somehow you manage to calm down at the thought of your bed, waiting for you at home, to keep you safe and sound.

That's the only thing that helps you get through your shift from hell, and before you know it, it's time to go home and finally unwind.

You can't kick your shoes off any faster than you do, stripping all the constricting clothes off of your tired body as you make your way to your shower.

The warm water is soothing to your muscles, your favorite body wash smells so nice and relaxing and you start feeling like you're finally becoming yourself again.

You decide to order out today and the food arrives just in time and you make yourself comfy in front of your tv, watching a funny show just to forget about everything that made you feel sour today, as the distant sound of rain hitting your window adds to the comforting bubble.

After a tasty warm meal, sleepiness travels back into your body and you decide that it's time for the best part of your day; diving under the covers in your soft bed.

After getting ready, you decide to strip to your panties, the feeling of the soft covers against your freshly shaven, smooth skin makes you feel like someone is caressing you as you lay on your back.

Your nipples perk up as they graze on the covers, the nice smell of your shampoo mixing with the fabric softener you use for your sheets has you feeling hazy pretty quickly; and you linger on that edge between sleep and awakeness.

Just as you're about to actually fall asleep, something moves under you.

You don't wake up instantly, thinking it's just that feeling of falling through the bed that your brain makes up before drifting off into dreamland.

You're calm again, until you feel fingertips graze your hips and you almost jolt a little too hard.

You should be waking up and panicking, screaming and turning the light on, but something feels familiar and comfortable about the touch and you relax.

The fingers slowly run on the side of your thighs, over your cute pink panties, to your stomach, where they stop and gently caress your skin, soothing you.

The hands are soft but strong and in your half asleep state, their touch is even more pronounced, making your arousal pool on your panties pretty quickly.

You squirm as the hands run up your waist to your chest, cupping your breasts and squeezing them.

Fingers find your nipples and pinch, pulling on them gently and that has you waking up a little, you blink confusedly before you feel a breath on the back of your neck, and a body forming underneath yours.

You slowly start freaking out, as you try to move but your bed grew hands and the hands grip your wrists, holding them down.

"I'm here for you.", a deep voice soothes.

It's like you're still unable to completely wake up and make sense of everything, but your body complies before your mind does as the hands slide on your arms, to your breasts again.

You gasp, arching into the touch, the hands gently massaging you and playing with your sensitive nipples, your panties are getting soaked just from that action, sticking to your folds as whatever is touching you breathes heavily down your neck.

A tongue darts out to lick at your sensitive skin and you moan quietly, squirming under the blanket that's pressing you down, further into the safety of your own personal monster.

One hand slowly slides down between your legs, fingers touching your wetness, sliding against it and making the fabric stick between your lips, before grazing your puffy clit and pressing into it.

You moan desperately as the fingers start circling your clit, playing with it, flicking it left and right, making your toes curl as you slowly open up your legs, inviting the monster in, letting it have its way with you.

Sharp teeth grazing against your neck have you gasping as you struggle again, but fingers press into your clit harshly, flicking it with passion as the other hand grazes your nipple, down to your waist and inner thigh, touching you everywhere where you're most sensitive like it knows your body even better than you do.

"Pretty~", the deep voice coos as plump lips nibble at your ear and you whimper, leaning back into the body that has now completely manifested behind you and it holds you in its embrace, fingers never tiring on your clit as your legs keep spasming, the sweet scent of your arousal prominent under the sheets.

"Ruin your cute panties for me~", the soothing voice coos again and you mewl as white explodes behind your closed eyelids, you cum and squirt in your panties hard, soaking the sheets underneath you as the entity grips your thigh and flicks your sensitive nub into overstimulation.

"P-please...", your voice is hoarse as you try to grip at whatever is holding you, your hands roaming behind you to find firm thighs.

The entity chuckles deeply into your ear, making you shiver as it continues to abuse your little clit.

"Shh.", it shushes you, pulling you flush with its body, your back on its chest and you feel the entity's cock press into your ass and the wet mess you made out of your panties.

You gasp again, trying to move, but your sheets wrap around your wrists, holding them down as the entity gently grabs your thighs and spreads them over theirs.

You finally manage to open your eyes, your vision is blurry and the room is almost completely dark, your blankets are still thrown over you and you can't move. Now you're too aware of the being breathing behind you, his chest rising and falling, the hot breath hitting the back of your neck as his fingers push your panties aside.

"Who- what are you?", you whimper as tears gather in your eyes but the way his fingers glide between your folds have you arching into his touch.

"I'm someone you know very well.", the creature says. "Don't be afraid.", he slowly pushes three of his fingers inside your heat and you moan, a tear sliding down your cheek. "I know how to make you feel good and relaxed."

"Okay", you've no idea what comes over you but you lean back as he pushes his fingers deeper inside you and starts fucking you at a steady pace.

You can hear the squelching sounds loud and clear as your pussy stretches around the fingers, and as your head leans on his shoulder, a tongue darts out to lick at your falling tear.

You shut your eyes tightly, afraid to look at what's holding you, it could be the ugliest monster ever, with sharp teeth and a dislodged jaw, its eyes a black hole but you don't care; the fear makes you even more aroused and you lift up into the fingers, eagerly meeting them as your pussy keeps dripping with wetness.

"That's it, fuck your little pussy on my fingers~", he coos at you as you moan and grip the sheets that bind your wrists, your legs shaking in tandem with the thrusts of his digits inside you.

Your orgasm builds up again and the sheets release your wrists to let your hands grip at the entity's strong thighs, as you moan loudly, giving into the way the monster knows exactly where your sweet spot is, at what pace you like to be fucked and how fast you love your clit being flicked.

You explode again, squirting for the second time, getting your thighs and the sheets soaking wet again.

"Yes, more! I need more!", the creature behind you growls and you whimper as his arm wraps around your waist, hand coming down to slap your wet pussy.

"Ah!", you jolt and the creature chuckles again.

"I know you love pain~ So you're gonna love being stuffed with my cock~", a tongue licks at your neck again, before sharp teeth graze against your skin, making goosebumps rise.

"C-can I see your face?", you whimper, your eyes snapping open as the being rips your panties off, making your middle jolt towards his hands again.

"All in it's time, little one"., his cock is now flush against your wet folds and you realize just how big and girthy it is then.

The monster presses his tip against your folds, somehow molding his body to fit yours, the feeling of him still gives you the same comfortable and safe feeling your bed does every single night you lay down.

"W-will it fit?", you whimper, nails digging into the creature's flesh.

"Worry not. I'll make it fit.", you can feel the smirk on his lips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, by the feel of it, it's not a monster with a dislodged jaw, the outline of the face seems handsome in your mind, making you want to see him even more.

Your thoughts get clouded as you feel him pushing inside you, forcing you open for his huge cock and you gasp, not understanding how your pussy can stretch so much to take him and not be painful, instead only pleasure and comfort course through your body.

"That's it. Fall into me.", he coos sweetly, filling you up more, your eyes roll back as your head falls back onto his shoulder, your neck exposed to his sharp teeth.

The teeth nip at your sensitive skin as his cock fills you up completely, your walls snug around it, making you feel like it's inside your womb but still not hurting you, only amplifying the pleasure that's building inside you.

"I need you to fuck yourself on my cock. Make yourself feel good just like you do with your toys.", the monster says and you gasp at the realization that the creature has been watching you all this time. "Can you do that, little one?"

"Y-yes.", you moan and adjust your position so that you can bounce freely on the big cock filling you up.

"Yes, just like that!", the creature growls deeply as you give it your all, your thighs burning as you keep smacking your hips down on his, his cock messing you up on the inside, making you unable to compute any coherent thoughts.

Your pussy never felt this full and you can't help but cum hard all over the monster's cock after only a minute of fucking yourself on him, the white cream visible on his length as the creature looks down where your ass is bouncing in his lap.

"Couldn't endure? Hold it in a bit more now, hm~"

Tears prick at your eyes as you grip the sheets beneath you and the monster groans deeply as you bounce on him even harder, making the whole bed vibrate and shake, your clit coming into contact with the creature's balls every time you lower yourself down to take his entire length.

"Wanna cum.", you whimper and the monster chuckles darkly.

"Greedy little pussy~", he smacks your ass hard, which makes you whimper loudly and bounce on him even harder, your cunt clenching around his girthy cock, making it painfully pleasurable for him. "Hold it in~"

You cry out as he releases an onslaught of slaps to your ass, no doubt leaving red handprints on your flesh but it only spurs you on to fuck on him harder, smacking your hips into his like your life depends on it.

"Please!", you cry, hot tears sliding down your cheeks as your pussy keeps clenching around him.

"Just a bit more, I promise it's gonna feel so good~", the creature whispers sweetly, his hands wrapping around you to grab your breasts and play with them.

You grip at his thighs again, determined to make him cum too, so he would let you finish because you were barely holding on at this point, your whole body shaking as you kept whimpering and begging for release.

Just as you get used to the torturous feeling of not being able to cum, the monster grips your hips and starts fucking up into you at an inhumane pace, making you scream out loud.

"Gonna ruin this little pussy~ Make it all mine~", his voice is even deeper than before and shivers run up your spine, as you become putty in his hands, letting him fuck into you and use you like you were just a toy existing for his satisfaction.

"I know what you fantasize about~", the monster chuckles, and all you can do is whimper and heave for breath in response as his cock keeps abusing your hole. "You want to be full of cum but without any consequences. Just a little cum dump who wants to be fucked and filled up to the brim all the damn time~"

At these words, you clench so hard that the creature digs his nails into your flesh and sinks his teeth into your shoulder and you yelp in pain, not being able to take anymore, you squirt so harshly, spasming around him and lifting up off of him as your orgasm shakes your whole body, you soak his cock with your release and he loses it.

Before you can even make sense of anything, he slams you back down on his length, making you cry out from the repeated intrusion.

"I'll make your fantasy come true, make you just a little hole~", he growls into your ear and his cock twitches inside you before you feel hot spurts of cum painting your insides endlessly.

You feel his cum seep out even while he's still fucking into you, riding his high and pushing his release deeper into you, with the intent of making you keep it all inside you.

You slump against him as he slowly pulls out, your fucked out pussy clenching around nothing as his cum keeps gushing out of you, down onto the completely soaked and ruined sheets.

"P-please." you beg in a small voice. "Let me see your face."

The creature sighs deeply, slowly helping you turn around, but in the dark you can't make out almost anything so he reaches towards your lamp and turns it on.

You gasp in the dim light, seeing the man you encountered in your dreams just about your entire life. The big dark eyes, the freckled cheeks, the heart shaped lips.

It's all there, the man who had been the subject of your daydreaming so many times, you wished you could meet him, wished you could be with someone like him, fantasized about kissing him and holding him.

"But- What? I don't understand- how? What- what are you?"

"I'm your fantasy. Your comfort. I'm always here for you~", he grins, the sharp teeth a contrast to his sweet face and you gulp loudly.

"W-why are your teeth so sharp?"

"Don't worry about such things, little one. You should sleep now~", he says, his sweet lips kissing your forehead as he slowly lays you down, turning off the lamp and pulling you into the safety and comfort of your bed which was now magically dry even though you're 100% sure it should be soaked.

"But-"

"Ah, ah. Sleep.", his hands caress you and it seems like he's melting back into your mattress whence he manifested from.

"Are you gonna be here again?" you ask sleepily.

"I'm always here.", there's something sinister in his tone of voice but you don't care.

"What's your name?", you slur, your head lolling to the side.

"You can call me Felix, little one~"

"Felix", his name slips from your lips and the monster smiles menacingly as you fall asleep, returning to his original form, much more closer to the terrifying things you had imagined before seeing him, the mask he wore not to scare you off completely dissolves, just like his body does into your mattress; where he'll be waiting for you every night as you fall into the safety of your bed.

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @lixies-favorite-cookie

[miley1442111]

clingy- a.hotchner

-----------------------

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summary: aaron acts quite differently with his wife around, which causes eyebrowns to raise and feelings to start getting hurt.

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: mildly suggestive, negative self-talk

-----------------------

You rushed around the corner, only to be met with your brick wall of a husband, Aaron Hotchner. 

“Careful there, sweetheart,” he smiled, his hands circling your waist and holding you to him. 

“Aaron I need to-” you huffed but he cut you off with a quick kiss. 

“You don’t need to do anything,” his hands ventured lower, until he was fully squeezing your ass. 

“Your team will be here any minute,” you sighed. The team had never met you, one of Aaron’s non-negotiables when you two got married, but nothing a year of married bliss and a lot of bribing him with sex couldn’t fix. 

“And everything is ready,” he smiled. “Stop worrying so much.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, well that’s helpful, thank you so much Sherlock Holmes,” you responded sarcastically and Aaron’s smile turned into a full-on smirk. 

“I love you too.”

You wriggled out of his arms with great effort, and a lot of elbowing him, then it was back to your frantic cooking and cleaning. 

-----------------------

The team was in shock. They knew that newly-wed SSA Aaron Hotchner was a lot more laid back then before, but when he was with you? All bets were off. His hands stayed firmly on you at all times,  much like his attention. You were clearly used to it, but to the team, your frequent flirty banter was bizarre. How could Aaron Hotchner be this… relaxed?

-----------------------

You noticed the weird look halfway through the dinner, and kicked Aaron under the table as a way to ask him if he would tune it down. He obliged, albeit confused, and kept his hands to himself for the rest of the night, much to his own dismay. 

Throughout the night, everytime someone made a look or whispered to each other, a sense of dread grew in your stomach. By the end of the night, it got so bad that you just left the room altogether and did the dishes instead. You had a dishwasher, there was no point in hand washing the dishes, but you had to get away from their prying eyes. 

They think you’re weird. They hate that you and Aaron are together. They think he can do so much better. 

Your thoughts were cut off by a hand on the small of your back. 

“Are you alright?” Aaron asked, pressing a kiss to your temple. Usually, his touch would ground you, but tonight it felt like a fire on your skin, one you wanted to put out. You quickly stepped out of his grasp and nodded. 

“Yeah, fine, just tired.”

“Well, people are heading out now, they wanted to thank you.”

“Sounds good,” you mustered up a half-assed smile and followed behind him as the team slowly filtered out of your house in a flurry of ‘thank yous’, ‘see you soons’ and ‘it was delicious’. 

-----------------------

You spent the rest of the night slightly avoiding Aaron’s touch. When you both sat down to watch a film, you decided it would be the best time to paint your nails, meaning Aaron should obviously sit on the opposite side of the couch, right? He did so without question, but not without a quizzical look. Next it was the bathroom, you sat on the closed toilet, brushing your teeth as Aaron stood in front of the mirror, his eye trained on you. 

Now Aaron was getting worried. Had he done something to annoy you? But then you’d surely talk to him, right? You’d never been one to not communicate, so he was left feeling completely bewildered by the predicament. 

-----------------------

In bed, he tried to wrap his arms around you, but you brushed him off, saying you were too warm.

“Did I do something?” He asked, turning back on his bedside lamp. 

“No,” you answered, your back still to him.

“Then why won’t you let me touch you?” he asked, rather blatantly. 

You rolled around to look at him, and immediately regretted it. This was so silly. You were getting upset about what a bunch of strangers (to you at least) thought about you and Aaron’s relationship. Fuck them. You started to laugh, embarrassment kicking in as you hid your face in the crook of his neck. He held you there, chuckling softly as he enjoyed the closeness of you after not being close for the past few hours. One thing you hadn’t expected from Aaron is that he was clingy. 

“It’s so dumb,” you giggled. “So you can’t laugh.”

“I won’t,” he smiled and you mustered up your best stern look. “I promise!”

“I was overthinking about what your team thinks of how much we touch each other,” you admitted. Aaron burst out laughing. You playfully hit him on the arm, but started laughing with him.

“That is dumb,” he chuckled.

“Hey!” You scolded, hitting him on the arm again. “That’s-”

“Do you want to know what they said when you were out of the room?” He offered and your interest was piqued. He pulled your hips and sat you on his lap, straddling him as he began to speak again. 

“They said that you were the nicest,” KISS. “Most lovely,”KISS.  “Most beautiful,”KISS. “Woman on the planet,” KISS. “And they could see how happy you make me.”

Your heart swelled. “So… they liked me then?”

Aaron laughed again. “They liked you a lot. Just like I do.”

-----------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part one ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

been thinking ab this post 4ever and need to get it out tbh.

**I’ve never done something like this b4 and I haven’t proofread so pls be nice 2 me ._. **

You have been divorced from your ex husband John Price for two years. Still, he comes over and shovels your driveway for you every time it snows.

He’s come inside and warmed up in the mudroom nearly every 15-20 minutes, puffing hot breath into his hands and rubbing them together for warmth before stepping back out and shoveling again.

You meet him in the mudroom for his fourth warm-up break and hand him a mug of hot coffee. Dash of cream, one sugar.

“Still how you take your coffee, right?” You offer a small smile, hugging your arms around yourself as John takes a sip from the mug.

“Still the same.” He nods before he takes another sip, the small smile that had appeared at the corner of his mouth quickly fading.

He leans up against the doorframe, the shovel leaning against the wall next to him. He peers out of the door's window, checking over his work.

“I'll get goin' soon enough. It ain't snowing right now, the drive's nearly clear.”

You thank him again, even though you never asked him to do this in the first place. You can’t help but look up at him, meeting his blue eyes for just a moment.

Before he could reply, your two children came running around the corner cheering and squealing when they saw their dad.

John's smile brightens at their presence, his body language immediately softening as he squatted down to their level.

“Hey, my little monkeys. Come give yer ol’ dad a hug.” He opens his arms out wide, inviting both of them to come to him. It doesn't take long before they both go crashing into him, squealing, smiling. Their giggles filled the small room.

You just smile. Even if you and John aren’t always on the best of terms, you can’t deny that he’s a great father.

“Daddy’s cold.” Your youngest shivers a bit from hugging their dad, who still had snow on his clothes and frost on his beard from shoveling.

John tries to shrug it off, but you ask him to stay and warm up for a while.

For the kids, of course.

Plus dinner is nearly ready, and you definitely made too much for just you and the kids, anyway.

More cheering, more squealing, more giggling as John finally agrees and kicks his boots off, hanging his coat on the hook.

John’s blue eyes scan the new decor and different paintings on the wall, but he doesn’t comment on how much the place has changed since he moved out.

After dinner, the two of you stand in the doorway as you watch the kids play together in their playroom, that used to be John’s “man cave”.

“They're gonna make you tuck them in.” You mention, sipping your glass of wine.

John smiles, a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“Maybe you can convince them to go up and brush their teeth?” You lower your wineglass and offer a fake, pleading pout.

He looks down for a moment, pretending not to see the gesture. Instead, he looks back to the children.

“Right then, you two little monkeys. It’s gettin’ late. Go on up and brush your teeth. I’ll come tuck you in.”

Both children protest for a while, but eventually give in without too much of a fight. That’s a new one.

John lets out a chuckle as the children roll their eyes and go up the stairs. He watches them disappear from view before turning and meeting your eyes again, still smiling for this small victory.

As if he had just realized he was staring, John’s eyes darted down into his now empty mug.

"Let me take that." You reach for his mug but he shakes his head.

"I haven’t forgotten where the kitchen is," He smiles a bit. "'ll clean up and then tuck the kids in."

John makes his way over to the kitchen, placing it in the sink and starting water. You follow, and notice that he was also washing the dishes from dinner as well.

“John, you don’t have to-“

“I know.”

And that’s that.

You chew your bottom lip. This looked too familiar. It felt too familiar.

"I'm... gonna go check on them and get them in their pj's." You gesture to the stairs in the hall.

He looks up at you briefly and nods; "Be up in a bit, love.”

Once the water is emptied from the sink, he starts loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Once completed, he starts to wipe down the counters and stovetop, wanting to make sure he left no mess behind. Then he trekked back up the stairs to tuck in the kids.

You’re downstairs again, on the living room sofa. You wanted to let John have a moment alone with the kiddos before he left again.

He makes his way down the stairs and sees you sitting there in the dim lighting. He clears his throat a bit as he walks through the living room and back into the mudroom.

“They're tucked in. Not a whisper from ‘em.” He mentions casually as he gets his snow boots back on.

You thank him, turning to watch him leave, but notice him looking out of the door window and pause. So you make your way over to the door to see what he’s seeing.

It's started snowing and the driveway is completely covered again. It looks like he hasn't even shoveled.

John lets out a grunt of disbelief and sighs, pulling on his beanie and reaching for the shovel once again.

“Don't-“ You shake your head, placing your hand on the shovel. “It's snowing hard, there's no point in shoveling it all up just for it to be covered again. Why don't you... stay on the couch or something tonight.”

He stares down at the shovel for a moment, debating it. After a beat, he sighs a bit, nodding.

“I... could do that.”

You go upstairs to the bedroom and bring John some extra pillows and blankets to make a bed on the couch with.

You set everything on the coffee table and the two of you sit on the couch for a moment, just catching up and chatting about the kids.

“The kids both want to do soccer in the spring.” You mention, your cheeks a bit rosy from the wine you had with dinner.

“Football.” He corrects with a small smirk. You roll your eyes.

“Let me pay for the lessons.” He says; not asking.

Of course you refuse.

Of course he insists.

You settle on splitting it.

Then it happens again. Your eyes meet his. Neither one of you speaks. Suddenly you’re transported back to the first night you met; you were newly 21 and already tipsy when your eyes met those of an older man in his fatigues as he sat at the bar. You remember drunkly telling the older man that he had the prettiest blue eyes, and that you wanted a hundred of his babies that looked just. like. him.

You have two, at least.

“Oh!” You sit up a bit straighter, snapping out of your daydream. “I was going to ask you to look at something on my laptop. It's doing that thing again. It's upstairs.” You get up and head to your home office, John right behind you.

You open your laptop and hand it to John. He knew how to fix it last time, so it should take him no time.

He sits in your office chair and you step away into your bedroom across the hall to get into a pair of pajama shorts and a hoodie, since it's getting late.

The laptop whirred softly before he got it running again. Only took a minute. He sets it on the desk, leaning back in your chair with his hands behind his head as he looks up through the open door where you can be found, changing in the bedroom.

You were his wife at one point, anyway. Isn’t something he hasn’t seen before…

After you’ve changed, you lay on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you wait for John to fix the issue with your laptop, unaware that he was watching. Unaware that the laptop has been fixed for a while now, and he was just wasting time.

Eventually, his voice wafts through the doorway.

“Think I got it, love-“ He pauses for a moment. “Er, Y/N.”

“Ugh, thank you.” You sigh and sit up, taking the laptop from him and setting it on your nightstand. “Stupid thing always acting up.”

John sits on the edge of your bed as you take the laptop back from him.

“Not a problem. It was a quick fix.” He offers a small smile, rubbing the back of his head.

He takes a glance at you, noticing the pajamas you had put on.

"...Is that my sweatshirt?"

You blush a bit sheepishly, looking down at the oversized, grey 2XL Special Air Service hoodie you’re wearing. "Um..."

Another small chuckle escapes his lips. He shakes his head a bit, trying to contain his amusement.

“S’what I thought. You look... comfy." He reaches his hand out towards your leg, running his hand lightly over your bare legs, exposed by the shorts you were wearing.

Without realizing what he's doing, he has his hand on your thigh, and he gives it a light squeeze.

Eventually his hand travels higher to rest on your sex over your pajama shorts.

Usually, you'd tell him off. Monologue about how this isn't how things work because it complicated things and you both need to set boundaries.

But tonight you don't.

Maybe it's because you had two heavy-handed pours of your favorite wine with dinner. Maybe it was seeing him with your kids again. Maybe it had just been too long since you'd felt anything other than a cheap bullet vibrator.

So you let him slip his hand down your panties.

But it's a bit jarring to feel his wedding band still on his finger.

You look down at his hand for a beat when you feel it.

You look back up and place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in and crashing your lips together.

John wastes no time in laying you back on your bed and tugging your shorts and panties off, tossing them somewhere behind him.

His lips are on your neck, his hands spreading your soft thighs apart. You can smell the musky scent of himself on him, mixed with that familiar cologne of his, and you breathe a sigh.

“Take this off f’r me.” He mumbles against your skin, sliding your his hoodie up your body.

Your body aches for this to continue, and John doesn't plan to disappoint, but he takes a moment to admire what's sprawled out in front of him. He lets out a satisfied smirk as he pulls you closer by your thighs. He's undone his belt and shrugged out of his jeans in no time.

You pull his shirt off over his head before you close your eyes and tilt your head to give him easier access to kiss your neck.

His scruffy beard tickles your neck, his calloused hands gripping your thigh and rubbing your slick, dripping pussy.

“So needy.” John observed as your back arched and your body squirmed at his touch. "Poor thing... No one's been keepin’ you satisfied, hm?”

You shake your head a bit. You hate that he’s right. You hate that he can tell. That he knows you too well.

But he’s right; no random Tinder hookup and no blind date that your friends have set you up with could ever compare to your ex husband.

“Should’a told me...” He murmurs as he leans lower, positioning his head in between your thighs, pressing desperate kisses to your aching clit.

He’s got you figured out completely. He’s always been good at that.

A smile forms as his hands move to grip your thighs. He lets out a quiet groan as your legs instinctively clamp around his head. The look of his veiny hands gripping your plushy thighs with that damn wedding band still around his finger is doing things to you.

His tongue slowly plays in circular motions, teasing you, loving the game. He takes his time, enjoying himself, as you continue to squeeze your thighs against his head. Hell, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could eat your pussy this one last time.

You try not to, but you let out a desperate moan of pleasure. He knew exactly what you like, exactly where to lick, exactly where to kiss, exactly where to nibble.

Damn him.

“You sound s’pretty, lovey. S’pretty f’r me.” He pants, his praise ending with a whimper.

Your eyes roll back. Fuck, he has you. He knows he has you. Your moans and whimpers are uncontrollable as he picks up the pace, all but slamming his thick cock into your pretty little hole.

You’re his, and he knows it, and in the moment, it’s true. Just him. Just you. The rest doesn’t matter right now.

John pulls out for just a moment while he swiftly flips you over, roughly gripping your hips and pulling your backside into him. He’s got the angle just right now, and your breath catches in your throat, followed by a needy whimper.

“Mine… All mine… Isn’t that right?” He whispers, more of a command than a question.

Your face is pressed against the mattress as John’s grip on your hips tighten. This angle, this position, John is so familiar with it. He knows what it does to you. He knows the way it makes you respond.

John lets out a loud groan as your whimpers and moans get more needy, desperate. He knows that you’re about to come.

He finishes right then and there, along with you.

You gasp a bit, surprised by the synchronization. Should you really be surprised, though? Only he would know your body like that. You’re his. He’s yours.

John slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, lying on the bed and pulling you into his chest. His hand grabs your thigh, draping your leg around his waist in an attempt to hold you closer.

He lets out a few deep breaths, letting the adrenaline and endorphins just fade away. Neither of you wants to move right now, both just content being in each other’s arms. Both content feeling the heat of each other’s bodies, just listening to each other breathing.

“Better than I remembered it.” John murmurs, his voice laced with a smirk.

You catch John’s left hand after he reached up to push your sweaty hair from your forehead. You hold it in yours, playing a bit with the wedding band.

next >>

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[luveline]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel assumes you're mad when you stop initiating kisses and tries to get back on your good side —featuring grumpy but lovelorn miguel and his head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 3k.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Gàn de piàoliang!" cheers the puppy at the bottom of your screen. Well done.

You smile at him and slide your finger across a lilac candy to make another three-match. 

The music playing from your phone quietens as a text lines the top of the screen. You click it as soon as you recognise the contact picture beside it, your handsome Miguel with a filter over his face that paints rosy pink hearts over his high cheeks. 

Finished. his text says. 

Miguel is a man of little words. Over the phone he talks even less, easier to draw blood from stone than harness a conversation with him that isn't in person. His text demarcates the wall of messages you sent him earlier, not wanting for a reply but bursting to tell him things as they happened. 

You put your phone down carefully. It's one of your most treasured possessions, shimmering and high tech, you can fold it down the middle to fit in your little spider suit pockets, though the amount of charms and beads hanging from it now impedes that particular functionality.

Miguel gave it to you as a gift without any fanfare around the time you started staying in his apartment in the society, and while your bunking with him was supposed to be temporary, the phone is for keeps. You've decorated it accordingly.

The best charm is a beaded translucent jellyfish, and not solely because it's beautiful: Miguel has a matching one that he showcases shamelessly. 

You rush into his neat bathroom and lean heavily on the counter, propping your hand on the faucet to hold your weight as you assess your reflection in the mirror. When you turn your face, your nose shines in the light. 

You decide it's best to wash up. Miguel will be back soon enough. 

You get distracted by skincare, toner pads resting on your cheeks when you hear the door opening. A waste to take them off prematurely, you pat them flat to your skin and meet Miguel in his bedroom half ready. 

"I can see why you didn't text me back," he says, giving you a quick glance from the corner of his eye as he walks past the bed and your waiting phone. He beelines for the kitchenette and disappears around the corner. "What do they do, the squares?" 

"They're calming, I think," you say, following his path from the bathroom to the small kitchen. 

His apartment is big but not huge. The main room is his bedroom, with enough space for a couch and a TV he never uses that comes out of the wall. To the right is a utility closet for storage and a walk-in wardrobe, and to the left lies the kitchen and the bathroom. It takes you all of ten seconds to be by his side. 

Bottles rattle as Miguel opens the fridge. He grabs sparkling water for himself and a fruit tea concoction for you. You hadn't followed him for that, but you accept it anyway. 

He looks tired. Tilting his head back to drink, you eye the stiff set to his shoulders and the way he rolls his arm out, orchestrating an offer for a massage in your head. 

Miguel squints at you. "What?" 

"What?" you ask back. 

He doesn't explain. He screws the lid back on to his water and closes the fridge. 

With his empty hand, Miguel reaches for your face. You stay very still in anticipation of his touch, imagining how he might take your cheek in his hand and pull you close, or perhaps curl thick, long fingers behind your neck and guide your chin up. He can be rough in odd ways, as though he's unaware of his strength. 

"It's slimy," he says in disgust, pulling a toner pad from your left cheek. 

"It's going to make my skin clearer." 

"There's nothing wrong with your skin." True or not, you know it's Miguel's way of being sweet. He takes the second toner pad too, tossing them in the trash with a huff. "That's better. You look normal. Or, as normal as possible." 

"Jerk!" you say through a smile, thinking now's the moment. 

But Miguel hasn't peeled away your skincare to kiss you. He pats a spot of dampness on your cheek away with the back of his hand and turns on his heel, gunning for a change of clothes and a shower, if you know him. "Drink your tea. Did you eat? Me preocupo por ti." 

You sigh and trail after him. "I was waiting for you to come back. It's Vietnamese week in the cafeteria, they're making cá kho tộ. Do you like that? It's sweeter than hake." 

"It's fish?" 

"Catfish. Caramelised catfish." You sit down on the bed, flipping your phone open to play your game while he decides. 

That, and to ignore the inkling of doubt blossoming like mould under heat in your chest. An achy sort of worry… 

Does Miguel not want to kiss you? 

"What's the other option? I don't like sweet foods." 

You knew that already. "You could make pasta?" you suggest. 

"You'd love that." 

"Are you teasing me?" 

Miguel pokes his head out of the wardrobe, and with it comes his naked chest. His muscles are insane, lean tanned stretches of cord pulled taut as he grabs a shirt. "I'm making an observation. You like carbs." 

"Everyone likes carbs, Miguel, especially Spiders." 

"I know, but I don't make anyone else dinner." He's definitely flirting now, his voice playful and soft. "I'll make you pasta if you want." 

Why hasn't he kissed you? Offering to make you dinner, smiling at you just as soon as his face has been pulled through his t-shirt. He's acting as affectionate as a man who'd like to kiss you without pulling through. 

Well, maybe you kiss him too much. Come to think of it, you initiate the vast, vast majority of kisses, and you must kiss him twice a day at least. Miguel clearly favours you, but it's possible he isn't interested in as much physicality as you and hasn't had the heart to say. He likes watching vintage movies at night and half the time you're not interested in those. You haven't said a word about it because things between you are new and you like his being happy watching the things he enjoys. Miguel could be doing the same, allowing hugs and kisses he doesn't necessarily want in order to avoid hurting your feelings. 

A favourite phrase of his cuts through your thinking, "¿Alguien en casa?" Anyone home?

"Oh, sorry, were you not getting enough attention?" you ask him, pretending to be more nonchalant than you are as you open the match game on your phone. 

The puppy barks hello. 

"Ah, you're a cómico now." Miguel sits on the bed beside you in sweatpants, reaching across the sheets to give your arm a shake. "I said, I'll make you pasta if you want pasta." 

"I want what you want," you say honestly. 

He stares at you. You're not sure what he's confused about. "Alright. Did you want it now?" he asks. 

"Yes, serf," you say, laughing when he knocks your phone out of your hand and stands in a dramatised annoyance. 

You play a couple levels of your game to give him space. He's quiet as he washes his hands and gets out the cookware, but he appears curious in the door, rag between his hands. "You're not gonna come and sit with me? I really am your maid." 

Eager for an invitation, you join him in the kitchen. You brace yourself behind you to hop onto the counter and find his hands on your hips, helping you up. 

Miguel meets your eyes as he does, not close but enough to beckon down for a kiss. You think about doing it. He might let you, his straight lashes pointed with his gaze, his eyes a heavy weight where they trace your features unhurried. 

"How come you didn't text me back earlier?" he asks. 

"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting me to. I'm sorry, handsome, I was kind of grody–"

"Grody? I doubt that–" 

"–I figured I'd wash up before you got back." 

"So you were busy?" he asks, returning to the chopping board at the left of the stove. He picks up a glinting-sharp knife. "Not something else?" 

"No, why? Was I supposed to do something today?" 

Miguel begins slicing into a tomato, red skin splitting to reveal greener insides. "No. No, just wondering." 

You lean back against the wall, crossing a leg over your thigh. He's being kind of off. Your first impulse is to try and kiss it better but that directly fights your new theory. Being nice physically is far from your only weapon. 

"Did you have a good day?" you ask, and here's where you'd pull him close or sidle up behind him and twist his hair around your finger. "I was thinking about you a lot. Did the strike mission go okay?" 

"Fine. You didn't come see me, but it was fine." 

You eye him from the corner of your vision. He's still cutting up tomatoes, a pan of olive oil and minced garlic simmering between you. 

"I sent you all those photos," you say. 

One of the Peter's you hang around with got his arm stuck in a window after he said, "Is that a bad idea, do you think? I really wanna try," and Hobie said, "They can't stop you." 

The 'they' being unknown, Hobie was right. No one could stop Peter once he started climbing, but the window could certainly stop him from getting down. You'd sent Miguel pictures of his dangling body up in the atrium like a dark splodge, as well as a blurry photo of your face when you'd accidentally turned the camera. He responded to that one with a heart but the rest he didn't touch. 

"They got him down eventually," you continue, "but I had to stay for moral support! And to feed him popcorn so he didn't starve. Was it peaceful without me?"

"You know I like when you visit me, right?" he asks carefully. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah?" he mimics, waving his hand at you. "Can't deal with you. Get the cream from the fridge." 

You eat dinner as you and Miguel tend to do —you talk your way through it happily, smiling and joking, and he puts extra helpings on your plate when you aren't looking. 

The alien quality of what you're doing rears its head briefly. He's trying to stop the quasi apocalypse. You're willing to help, though you'd been more interested in Miguel and getting to know his enigma than your responsibilities. Weird how love makes you want to be better. 

"What was your course like?" Miguel asks, when the dishes have been set aside for washing and you've showered for the night. 

He's talkative tonight. 

"They taught us how to wield a baton," you say, climbing into his bed with a tired sigh. "One girl was crazy about it. She kind of looked like me…" You yawn, looking for his waist as he settles in the sheets and pillows next to you. "You're lucky I got my claws into you when I did. At least I'm not murderous. Much." 

Miguel covers your hand on his ribs. He squeezes your fingers together gently like he's collecting them under his palm for borrowing. 

"You didn't get your claws in me. I'm not easily led." 

"Course not," you snort. You actually agree with him, but he said it too seriously for bedtime. 

Miguel abandons your hand to pull you in, encouraging your head and upper chest onto his, hand coasting up and down the length of your arm lovingly. Firmly, like a massage, but adoring nonetheless. You languish in his touches and rub your lips, still tingling from spearmint, against the collar of his shirt gently. As indirect a kiss as you can manage, practically sick with longing after a day unkissed. 

"Are you mad at me?" he asks into the quiet.

You pause, fingers with a mind of their own as you take a long strand of hair that curls under his ear between them, combing it flat. "Why, have you done something?" you ask, hiding your confusion with a delighted lilt. 

"I've been trying to work that out." Frustration seeps into his voice, roughened syllables drawn tight, "But you're evasive." 

"I'm evasive," you say softly, tilting your head back to meet his eye. "Miguel, why do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad." 

Miguel glares at you. Brows furrowed, an especially formidable downturn to an otherwise pretty mouth, he looks as though he wants to start a fight with you, and as though he doesn't believe it. 

"I'm not mad," you insist, sitting up a little. 

"Then…" 

You scrunch your brows at him. "You've been thinking I was mad at you all day? Why didn't you say something, handsome?" 

He might roll his eyes at your pet name if he weren't knee deep in relief. You didn't know being mad at him was something he'd be sad with, and yet there he is lying beneath you, blowing a big enough exhale to ruffle the hair from his forehead. 

Miguel takes your face into one hand. Your eyelashes flutter against his palm like a shuddering butterfly wing as you lean into his touch, more than happy to offer him whatever relief it is he needs while enjoying in the feeling of being close to him. 

"You haven't kissed me all day," he says quietly. "I thought I must've pissed you off, 'cos you're more piranha than girl sometimes, but you weren't acting any weirder than usual beyond that." 

You roll your eyes and hide your face in his hand. He's kidding around, and his thumb rubs over your skin tenderly to prove it. 

"You're not mad?" he asks again. 

You kiss his palm. You kiss his wrist, happy when he knows the moves like a well practised dance, his fingers sliding behind your ear to steady you as you dip down for a kiss. 

It's a good kiss. Warm mouths vying for one another but trying not to seem desperate, Miguel's hand behind your ear growing harsher as you pull a breath against his lips. You press your hand into his pec too hard. 

"Sorry," you murmur, stealing another fast kiss and pulling away. 

You barely feel how uncomfortably you're skewed, you're that happy. 

"Is there a reason you wouldn't kiss me?" he asks. 

"I'm, like, always the first one to initiate and I kinda got it in my head maybe you didn't want me kissing you that much…" You grin at him. "The whole time you're playing twenty questions with me wishing I'd lay one on you. You know you have a voice for more than yelling at people, right?" 

Miguel gets this look in his eyes then, rolling his jaw a touch at the supposed audacity of what you've said. The tip of his tongue works at his canine tooth, his eyebrows rising as he asks, "Oh, is that how you're talking to me tonight?" 

"How else should I talk to you, Miguel?" 

He doesn't bother with swiftness nor a show of strength as he rolls you onto your back. He settles above you with measured movements, a pleased smirk playing on his lips now. His eyes are dark, pupils wide as dimes.

"With compassion, mi cielo," he says.

"Have some sympathy for me," you implore him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It diffuses the tension, though neither party minds, evidenced by Miguel's easy relaxation and your ecstatic mood. Happiness bubbles up like carbonated bubbles, your chest awake with a fizzing excitement. "You really thought I was mad 'cos I wasn't kissing you?" 

He avoids the question. "You think you're the only one who initiates?" he asks genuinely. 

"Why didn't you kiss me, then? When you came home?" 

"Your face was wet." 

"And after when we were eating dinner?" 

Miguel smiles at you. No sarcasm, no stress. He leans down to kiss you chastely, pulling away to say, "I thought you were definitely mad at that point." 

"A kiss would've made me feel better." 

You realise how quiet your bubble of the world really is for that handful of seconds, Miguel holding himself above you, your hands loose behind the broad stretch of his back. 

"You know you can just ask me, yeah? You don't have to worry and wonder how I'm feeling. I'll tell you how I'm feeling if you want to know." 

"Cariño, I always want to know," he says. 

You breathe out slowly. Miguel takes your face into his hand for another kiss, or so you think —he pinches your cheek. 

"And I always want to kiss you," he says quickly, climbing off of you. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I need a drink." 

A break from sincerity. You don't mind that he needs to walk it off as long as he comes back. You stretch out on your back and cover your face with your hands. 

"People think I'm the weird one," you say into them.

A hand clamps around your ankle and tugs you down. You shriek with startled laughter and climb away from him as he lands on top of you, a cold water bottle held to your bare neck. 

"No!" you laugh. 

Miguel laughs in tandem and presses it further down. 

"I really am going to be mad at you if you don't quit!" You yelp as condensation wets your collar. "Miguel!"

"You're a wimp," he says with a bright smile. 

You push him with some enhanced super strength and manage to get the water bottle off of your neck, but Miguel makes up for any differences in strength with enthusiasm and muscle alike, shoving you down. 

You're laughing and pleading at the same time, "Please, Miguel, stop, it's sooooo cold." 

Miguel laughs, dropping the bottle somewhere above your head, covering the cooled stripe of your skin with his big hand. The sound is warming enough, but you let him sweat for a second, content to be doted on. 

He gives you a once over. "I'll kiss you first more," he promises. 

"Starting now, please, handsome. Mi cielo." 

Miguel groans and digs his arms under your back. You don't fight it as he drags you back to the top of the bed. In fact, you quite enjoy it. You lay back to receive his sorry pecks and his all encompassing hug, forgetting what you'd been worried about one damp crescent moon of a kiss at a time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!

[pellucid-constellations]

R&R

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: Cassian was tired and you were taking forever to get your ass back home.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: nothing! fluff <3

a/n: A little drabble as I ignore my homework.

~~

Cassian was tired. 

He felt it in his bones and the cracks of his skin.

Dirt was ingrained in every crevice of his leathers, dusting out as he shucked the articles to the ground and stepped into the steaming bath. Training didn’t usually take this much out of him, but there were a host of recruits that he needed to train, all so eager to be part of the troops after the victorious War with Hybern. 

All eager but so, so inept.  

And then you weren’t home when he got here, which pissed him off. 

All he could think about during the hours of training drills and conditioning and corrections was coming home to you, pressing his face into your neck, and falling asleep to the warmth of your skin. He had sent a spark down the bond when he started his journey home, which—to him—was a request for you to come home as well. 

You did not. 

Cassian dried himself off and threw on the closest pair of cotton pants he could find, falling into bed with a huff. 

Ridiculous. 

He was in bed and he was alone. 

He covered his eyes with the bulk of his arm. 

He’d sleep then. Fine. 

Only he couldn’t sleep. The bed smelled like you and he tugged at the bond again. This time, you actually did offer him a reply, and Cassian wanted to drown in the warmth you sent through his chest. 

Where the hell were you?

He flipped onto his stomach and shoved his face into a pillow. He should be able to sleep without you there. He was Illyrian; he had slept in far worse conditions. On rocks, in a tree, standing up against war-torn buildings—Cassian could sleep anywhere at any time. But then he met you and he fell in love with you and you weren’t getting your ass home fast enough.

Cauldron help him if you ever decided to go on vacation. 

Mor had tried something like that when you were freshly mated, posing a girl's trip to you and Feyre. That idea hadn’t gone far.

It had been more about sex and lust and being so enamored by you that he couldn’t breathe back then. Right now he just wanted to get some damn sleep. 

The bedroom door clicked open and unrelenting joy washed away the irritation he was harboring for you. Because how could he be irritated when you came into the room all soft and smiley and bright? Upon further contemplation, Cassian decided that no, he wasn’t ever irritated at you, actually. 

“Hi, Cass,” you called, the sound muting the headache that had begun to form behind the general’s eyes. “How were the recruits? Are they ready to charge into battle?”

You flitted about the room, taking off your coat and setting your bags down and not paying attention to him at all. Cassian fought the urge to tackle you onto the bed just to get you to stop moving. He couldn’t even get a good look at you like this, and he hadn’t seen you all day. He left before you woke up. 

“Yeah maybe in a few years,” Cassian grumbled, following you with his eyes as you started cleaning up the damn room. “C’mere, sweetheart.” 

“I will in just a moment. This place is a mess. You got dirt everywhere, did you know that?” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up later, just come here.” 

You tsked and ignored him. Cassian cursed at the ceiling.

“I was out with Mor earlier and we stopped by Nyx's school to surprise him,” you giggled, grabbing a stupid broom. “He was adorable, of course. He painted you and Az for one of his projects in art. You’ll have to see it when he brings it home. I swear, Cass, he is just hmph—” 

The broom clattered to the floor, forgotten along with the dirt that lined the wood. Your cheeks were encased by Cassian’s hands as he kissed you, and he ran one back to entangle it with your hair. Gods, you smelled good, like strawberries or apples or whatever fruity perfume you were trying while you were out shopping. Cassian deepened the kiss and relished in the surprised sound you made. 

“You didn’t even kiss me when you came in,” he practically pouted, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Or look at me.” 

You gripped at his biceps to keep yourself upright, his body pressed so closely to yours. “I didn’t mean to,” you whispered. 

“I know.” He nudged your nose with his. “Lay down with me.” 

“But the floor—” 

“Lay down with me,” he repeated.

A brief pause, a small nod; right now, it took very little to make Cassian so inexplicably happy. 

He gathered you in his arms the moment your body hit the sheets, burying his face in your neck like he was supposed to do about thirty minutes ago. And then you ran your fingers across his scalp and Cassian decided he was dead. There was no other explanation for this type of bliss. 

“Did you have a bad day?” you asked softly. 

“Day was fine. Long, but fine,” he grumbled, pulling you tighter, pressing his lips to your skin. 

You hummed. “Then why couldn’t I clean the room?” 

“Because I’m tired and you were over there.” 

“Not seeing the correlation, my love.” 

Tire was weighing heavy on Cassian’s mind. His body relaxed even more into the bed as his hands ran down the length of your body. 

“I need to hold you to fall asleep,” he replied as if it were obvious. Because it was. 

“Oh.” 

He grunted out a confirmation.

“Well, I’m not exactly ready for bed yet and I told Rhys—” 

“I love you,” Cassian interrupted. “Please stop talking.” 

And then Cassian was no longer pissed or annoyed or tired because nothing was out of place. Sleep found him quickly.

[actiniumwrites]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

synopsis: how they react when they find out you’ve never had a date on valentine’s day

based on the prompt: “you’ve never had a valentine’s date?”

characters: diluc, kaeya, mona, zhongli, xiao, kujou sara, kazuha, itto, tighnari, cyno, and childe x gn! reader (separately)

warnings: fluff, a bit of angst in some of them, these are meant to be pre-relationship but you can interpret them how you want

notes: releasing this a day early because i know i’ll forget about it tomorrow lmao. also i was gonna do more for this than just a bullet scenario, but then i realized there was only like a week left until valentine’s when i wrote this so i couldn’t do anything big 😭 but i did really like this prompt so enjoy!

diluc:

his facial expression contorts into one of confusion as he wipes the inside of the glass in his hand

you’re sitting in front of him, legs crossed one over the other as they dangle over the barstool you’re on. your head rests in your hand innocently, as if what you had just said hadn’t affected you at all

you’ve never had a valentine’s date?

no. diluc just can’t accept it, at least, that’s what he decides as he puts the glass down and starts to remove his apron

before you know it, his hands are gripping yours, pulling you out the door and into the now sunset painted city you called your home

valentine’s wasn’t over yet, and diluc was sure as hell going to make sure you got that date

kaeya:

he laughs, his smile wide and his eyes teasing as he blinks through his tears

but then he sees the way you grimace and your eyes look anywhere but at him. he sees a sense nervousness and embarrassment wash over every inch of your face

he feels awful

kaeya hadn’t meant anything bad by his laughter. truthfully, he thought you were joking with him because, how could someone so utterly beautiful in every which way, someone so full of life, someone so perfect never have been asked on a date on valentines?

you were all he had ever wanted and more, and yet you weren’t even his

apologies come flying out of his mouth for a solid two minutes before you assure him it’s okay and, as expected, that stupid smirk appears on his face again

his hand is latching onto yours as he leans in close, asking you to join him on a date so he could make it up to you

and although he seems rather nonchalant on the outside, his heart is beating rapidly on the inside, begging you to accept so he could finally make you his

mona:

her mouth falls open at the sound of your response to the question

then it shuts…and then it opens again

meanwhile, you have to keep yourself from laughing too hard because of the way she currently resembles a fish

she huffs as she ignores your muffled laughter and tosses the pen she had been writing with to the side and gathers her papers on her desk

you’re still laughing, but her face is as serious and determined as ever

and before you know it, you were getting dragged out of her room and into yours. and your best friend tells you to get ready, as glammed up or as comfortable as you want

she was going to take you out on the best damn date of your life and maybe, just maybe, finally confess her feelings to you

zhongli:

his eyes widen in shock and he immediately sets his tea down to clasp his hands together

he’s silent, thinking carefully about what to say to your response to his question. honestly, he looks like someone had just murdered his grandma

deep down, he wants to ask why

but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel bad never having a date on valentine’s

his hand aches to reach for yours and hold it tight in his. secure it with all his adoration and love for you, make you realize he’d do anything to take you on a date — valentines or otherwise

slowly, his eyes reach back up to meet yours and he stands, unclasping his hands and extending one out for you to hold

“if you do not mind, i would like to have the pleasure of being your first valentine’s date. and, perhaps if you enjoy it, you would consider allowing me to take you out again.”

xiao:

he scoffs — why were you even telling him this anyway? he didn’t even like valentine’s day so what does this have to do with him?

yet, he doesn’t miss the way his heart seems to skip a beat before pounding furiously against his chest

was he angry? upset? emotional? sad? he wasn’t sure but, whatever it was, it was not a good feeling

he masks whatever emotion it was and displays the most neutral expression he could come up with

because, no, xiao is not jealous and most definitely does not care

yet, as much as the adeptus claimed to hate valentine’s day, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit interested if it means he gets to spend the day with you

his eyes avoid yours and a small blush crosses his face as he offers a proposition:

“if you would like…maybe you could spend the day with me?”

kujou sara:

her arms cross as she leans sideways against the wall, staring directly at you as she scoffs

“who wouldn’t want to take you out on a date?”

shit

the general definitely did not mean to say that out loud

suddenly, she’s standing upright and stuttering left and right as you stand in front of her in shock

her hands are waving in front of her face sporadically as she desperately tries to explain herself

but then your silence turns into laughter and it feels like the world around her completely stops as you reassure her that it’s okay and that you’re actually quite flattered

embarrassed as she is, sara sighs and stares at anywhere but you, “i know it’s your favorite, so meet me at uyuu restaurant at 7 tonight. please don’t make me regret this.”

kazuha:

he offers a gentle smile and covers your hand in his own

“that’s okay, neither have i.”

you’re quick to ask him why, but he’s quick enough to ask you the same

you’re dumbfounded, but argue that you asked him first. and he explains, saying that he’s always preferred the wind and spending his time in nature rather than out on silly dates

and your eyes loose their shine a little, not only upset because you have to talk about the fact that no one had ever asked you on a valentine’s day before, but also because it meant you likely wouldn’t have the chance to ever go out with him

and he notices, because that’s just how kazuha is

“just because i said i don’t prefer to go on dates, doesn’t mean i don’t enjoy them. in fact, i would greatly appreciate it if you would join me at chinju forest later today. perhaps we could have a picnic and enjoy the scenery together?”

itto:

he gasps loudly, almost as if he’s in a horror movie and the killer just found him

it scares you at first, thinking that his sudden expression was not in reaction to your response, but then you realize itto was in fact reacting to you

it’s just his dramatic nature

his hand is over his heart and his eyes are shut, acting as if he’s in pain

“oh no! no, no, no! this just won’t do!”

and you laugh whole heartedly at him. a smile irresistibly tugs at your lips and your eyes are all wrinkled

and when you recover, itto’s looking at you with the brightest, most fondest look you think you’ve ever seen in your life

and it hits you: he was trying to make you laugh so that you wouldn’t feel bad

and then he’s all serious, but you can tell he’s really just nervous, “uh, hey listen, i can take you out…but only if you want! not that you have to or anything — no, no that would be uh…yeah!”

tighnari:

“valentine’s day is a rather trivial holiday. there’s no need to be so upset about never having had a date.”

your eyes fall to your hands as he says those words. not that he sees of course, seeing as he’s turned around at his desk, writing away at some papers

“yeah, no! i get it, you’re right,” you say. but your words don’t match your tone, and you hate how quick tighnari is to pick up on it

he sighs and turns around, still fiddling with the pen in his hand, but you don’t meet his eyes

you knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way, that’s just who he is, but you couldn’t help the hurt you felt when he spoke

and then he sighs again. although, this time a small, but genuine, smile graces his expression, “if a date is what will make you happy, then i would happily take some time off from work.”

cyno:

he’s hesitant to respond

not because he finds it appalling that you’ve never had a date on valentine’s day, but because he’s simply not well versed in relationships or emotional comfort in general

his eyes stay focused on the ground and his fingers tighten against the barrel of his polearm

he’s so quiet that you’re not even sure he heard your response

and he continues to think for a few more moments before huffing and just saying everything outright

overthinking wasn’t the mahamatra’s style

so he asks you out to dinner that night. not out of pity either, just simply because that’s what cyno wanted

sure he wasn’t a fan of the holiday, but his feelings for you are certainly enough to make him want to celebrate it

childe:

his hand is intertwined with yours as you walk together down the streets of liyue

“wait so, you’ve never had a valentine’s date before? as in, this is literally your first one ever?”

you don’t respond. instead, you stare at the buildings around you and all the other couples adorning the different restaurants and gift shops

childe isn’t stupid. he sees the way you get uncomfortable and instantly regrets making the comment

he speaks softly, “i’m honored, you know? besides, you couldn’t get a better first date than me.”

you’re slapping his arm in a matter of seconds, trying to hold back your laugh, but acting angry nonetheless

but then you’re laughing together and you realize, yeah, it really couldn’t get any better than him

[pucksandpower]

Man’s World

Charles Leclerc x Ferrari engineer!Reader

Summary: Charles refuses to just stand by and watch as you get disrespected

Warnings: misogyny and lewd comments

You’re admiring the sleek lines of the red Ferrari F8 Tributo in front of you, running your fingers lightly over the glossy paint. The showroom is quiet this early in the morning, just a few employees milling about getting ready for the day.

Charles had to stop by to sign some merchandise for a charity event and asked if you wanted to tag along. You opted to wait out front and enjoy the eye candy while he took care of business.

You circle around to the back of the car, appreciating the aggressive styling and massive rear diffuser. As an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari who often extends your expertise to working on their road cars, you know every detail of this machine intimately. Your hands itch to pop the hood and inspect that glorious twin-turbo V8, but you resist.

This isn’t your workshop back in Maranello.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the group of guys entering the showroom until one whistles loudly. “Hey baby, those legs look good enough to wrap around me real tight,” one calls out.

You freeze, feeling your heart rate pick up.

“Don’t be shy, we just want to get to know you better,” another says as they swagger over.

You press back against the car, sizing up the situation. Four of them, all clearly well-off based on the expensive watches and designer clothes. But their eyes are cruel as they look you up and down.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” The apparent ringleader asks. “Hoping to sink your claws into some rich guy and take him for all he’s worth?” The others laugh nastily.

You lift your chin. “Actually, I happen to work for Ferrari.”

The man snorts in disbelief. “Yeah right, and I’m Michael Schumacher. There’s no way a woman knows anything about these cars other than where the passenger seat is.”

You clench your fists, biting back a scathing retort. The thought of educating these misogynistic jerks gives you immense satisfaction, but you know it won’t do any good. They’ll never change their prejudiced attitudes.

“Don’t listen to him, darling,” one says, giving you a lecherous look. “I’d be happy to take you for a ride, show you how a real man handles power between his legs.”

You’re about to tell him exactly where he can shove his stereotypes when a familiar voice interrupts sharply.

“That’s enough.”

You look over to see Charles striding angrily toward you, green eyes blazing. The men surrounding you look irritated at having their fun spoiled.

“Can we help you with something, pal?” The ringleader asks sarcastically.

Charles ignores him, coming to stand protectively beside you. “Are you okay, mon amour?” He asks under his breath.

You nod, relief washing over you now that he’s here. “I’m fine.”

Charles turns an icy stare on the men who’d been harassing you. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to my girlfriend that way,” he says coldly.

The leader looks Charles up and down dismissively. But then a spark of recognition crosses his face. “Wait a minute … you’re Charles Leclerc!” He elbows his friends. “The Formula 1 driver!”

The others’ eyes widen as they take in Charles with new understanding. “Whoa, seriously?” One exclaims.

The leader chuckles, clearly trying to recover his bravado. “Well, what do you know? The famous racer has a pretty girl on his arm.” His lips curl in a smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s obvious she’s just using you for your money. No way she knows anything about these cars other than how much they cost.”

Charles crosses his arms. “As it so happens, my girlfriend is an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari, so I’d bet my entire net worth — and my car collection — that she knows more about the cars in this dealership than all four of you combined and then some.”

You have to bite your lip to hide a smile at the dumbfounded looks on the men’s faces.

“An engineer?” One sputters. “You can’t be serious.”

You level a challenging stare at them. “Deadly serious. I’ve personally worked on over a dozen projects for Ferrari, including the SF90 Stradale hypercar we just launched.” You point across the showroom. “There’s one right over there, in fact. Mid-front mounted 4.0L twin-turbo V8, delivering 769 brake horsepower combined with three electric motors. First plug-in hybrid Ferrari ever put into full production.” You smirk at the slack-jawed stares your technical rundown elicits. “So yes, I’d say I know a thing or two about these cars.”

Charles grins proudly and squeezes your hand. But the leader is not ready to back down just yet.

“Anyone can memorize a monologue,” he scoffs. “I don’t buy it. You’re clearly just clinging to this guy for his money.”

Fury rises in your chest. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Charles beats you to it.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” he snaps, green eyes blazing. “I’d be very careful with what you say next.”

The man smirks, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. “Or what, tough guy?”

Charles takes a step forward, jaw clenched. The man towers over him but Charles doesn’t flinch.

Right as it looks like things might get physical, you quickly take Charles’s arm. “He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Charles hesitates, nostrils flaring. After a tense moment, he relaxes his stance and turns his back on the leering man.

But it seems the group isn’t done provoking you yet. “That’s right, listen to your sugar baby,” one of them calls out. “Wouldn’t want you messing up that pretty face for the cameras.”

Charles whips back around, shaking with anger now. Heart pounding, you cling to his arm in an effort to hold him back. “Charles, please-”

“No, Y/N.” He shakes off your hand, stalking toward the men. “I won’t stand here and let them insult you.”

You watch helplessly as Charles gets right in the leader’s face, nearly nose to nose. “You need to apologize. Now,” he grits out.

The man narrows his eyes. “Apologize? For what? Stating the obvious?” He smirks coldly. “Face it, your little girlfriend is nothing but a gold diggin-”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence. With lightning speed, Charles’ fist connects squarely with his jaw. The man stumbles back with a pained shout, hand flying to his face.

“Charles!” You hurry to his side, alarmed. Charles is breathing hard, staring down at the man doubled over and groaning. The man’s friends back away nervously.

Chest heaving, Charles turns to you. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t listen to him insult you for another second.”

You meet his fiery gaze steadily. “It’s okay, I understand. Thank you for defending me.” After a beat, you add wryly, “And remind me not to get on your bad side.”

That startles a small laugh from Charles. The tension in his shoulders eases. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “No chance of that, mon ange,” he murmurs. “You bring out the best in me.”

***

“Ow, ow, ow!” Charles hisses as he gingerly holds his right hand. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding.

You sigh, grabbing the first aid kit to tend to your dramatic boyfriend. “I told you not to punch him, Charles. You don’t know the first thing about throwing a proper punch.”

Charles pouts, wincing as you take his hand in yours to examine it. “I was just trying to defend your honor, mon amour. That man was saying such crude things about you.”

You shake your head, amused by his protectiveness. “My hero,” you tease. “Next time just walk away. I don’t need you breaking your hand over some entitled idiot’s comments.”

Charles hangs his head. “I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just saw red when he kept insulting you.”

You smile softly, touched by how much he cares. You start cleaning the wounds on his knuckles with a disinfectant wipe.

“Ow!” Charles cries out dramatically. “That stings!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” you chide. “It’s just a little antiseptic. I have to clean it so it doesn’t get infected.”

Charles pouts some more but stays still as you finish cleaning the abrasions. You apply an antibiotic ointment carefully before beginning to wrap his hand with a bandage.

“I really messed up my hand, didn’t I?” Charles mumbles dejectedly.

You nod. “You definitely did some damage. Nothing serious, but you’ll be sore for a while.”

Once you’ve wrapped his hand securely, you bring it to your lips and place a gentle kiss on the bandage. “There. All better.”

Charles gives you a lopsided smile. “My own personal nurse. How did I get so lucky?”

You grab an ice pack from the freezer and hand it to him. “Here, put this on your hand to help with the swelling and pain.”

Charles sighs dramatically but does as instructed, holding the ice pack gingerly against his injured hand.

You glance at his wrapped hand, the knuckles already starting to bruise beneath the bandage. “Does it hurt terribly?”

Charles considers the question. “Honestly? Yes, it really does. Punching someone is not as easy as it looks in the movies.”

You laugh. “No kidding. That’s why you leave the punching to trained fighters, not Formula 1 drivers.”

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” Charles mutters. “What will the team say when they find out I injured myself in a fight? And I’ll never hear the end of it from Pierre.”

You pat his leg reassuringly. “Just say you hurt it working out. No one has to know about your misguided attempt at honorable combat,” you tease.

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Good idea. The last thing I need is for this to become paddock gossip.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Charles icing his hand while you snuggle contentedly against him.

"Thank you for patching me up and taking such good care of me,” Charles gently brushes the hair from your face with his uninjured hand. “Even when I do stupid things."

You grin. “It’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it. Especially since you did almost break your hand for me.”

You settle back against Charles comfortably. He may be reckless and impulsive at times, but you know he always has the best intentions at heart. And you'll always be there to care for him if those good intentions backfire.

For better or worse, this protective man is the love of your life.

[erajunex]

The House of Sin. (part 1)

Rating: 18+ MDNI. You read at your own risk.

Pairing: Father Charlie Mayhew x housekeeper!fem!reader

Summary: Your very religious family decides to preserve you from the evil of the world by entrusting you to Father Charlie as his housekeeper. You’re welcome in the House of Sin.

TW (for this part): NSFW. SMUT. blasphemy; mentions and references to catholic themes (some of them are prob inaccurate sorry); reader is very religious (but not innocent); mentions of blood; graphic description of self-inflicted flagellation; masturbation; voyeurism; swearing.

a/n: English is not my first language, so please be kind bc this took me so long to translate (lol), if you wanna be added to the tag-list for the next part lemme know with a comment pls

Enjoy xx

Father Charlie Mayhew had always been faithful and devoted to the promises he made before God when he decided to please Him for the rest of his earthly life, and with the same devotion he always made an effort to spread love for God within his parish.

In his whole life, he never felt the slightest desire to act in opposition to the Lord's word, he never succumbed to temptation, and his spirit never entertained the idea of sinning.

He was the perfect servant, the best guide for his parish, and for the faithful whom the Lord entrusted to him.

Or at least that was what everyone believed about him, including your parents, who thought that offering you the position of Father Charlie’s housekeeper would be the best way to protect you from the vices and dangers of the outside world.

Your father was a strict and religious man who raised you with rules and discipline, so you accepted his decisions without question.

Father Charlie knew your family well and recognized your parents' honesty and devotion, so he had high expectations for you, and you would’ve met all of them.

The initial period of living together at his house was quite peaceful, and being with him felt comfortable from the very first day. You spent your days peacefully working for him, cleaning his house and the church, doing laundry, and preparing lunch and dinner. Nevertheless, you always found a moment for prayer. You shared everything with him and you were grateful and respectful at the point you considered him a master despite his young age.

You recognized your parents' admiration for him, and you shared it too because he was a decent man who cared for all his faithful and his mission as God's servant. He was charismatic, persuasive, and seemingly flawless. To be honest, his personality intrigued you. You had to admit that sometimes you found him charming, but those were just fleeting thoughts that you quickly pushed aside— till tonight.

It’s late at night; all the lights are off, and Father Charlie has retired to his room about an hour ago.

You’ve just finished washing the dishes and are getting ready for the night. As you prepare to head to the room he had assigned to you when you first arrived, a flicker of light and subtle noise from his door catch your attention as you walk through the hallway.

At first, you think it’s just a perception, but as your feet slow down until they stop in the hallway, you realize your ears are not wrong.

Driven by curiosity you approach the door slowly, trying not to make a sound as you peek through the half-closed door to see out what is happening inside his room. But, you know, sometimes curiosity can kill.

You freeze. Your jaw drops, and your eyes widen as they look straight at the scene being etched in your memory.

Father Charlie sits at the edge of the bed, fully exposed to your gaze, the soft light casting shadows on his bare skin. His back is turned to the painting of Jesus Christ hanging on the wall, a watchful presence above him from which he is trying to hide himself.

He’s panting. He’s completely naked. With one hand around his cock.

His eyes are closed and his slightly parted lips release soft moans of pleasure, the rhythm of his breath filling the quiet room. A sheen of sweat glistens on his naked body as he keeps moving his left hand at a rapid pace, trying to set himself free from the lustful thoughts that had taken over his body as soon as possible.

Your breath breaks.

You can’t believe it. Father Charlie has succumbed to the desire of the flesh, his soul becoming stained by a sin he should never have committed. Not him. Not a priest like him.

And without knowing, he‘s pulling you into the Devil’s claws with him.

Because no matter how shocked you are, and no matter how hard you’re mentally cursing yourself for being overcome by curiosity, your eyes are glued to his magnificent body and cannot tear themselves away from it.

You are expected to go, but you can't. You don't want to.

For the first time in your whole yet short life, you hear it. That voice. The voice of temptation.

You continue to stare at him with bated breath, wishing that show will never end.

"Ah, fuck..." he groans and you shudder.

A shiver goes straight to your core, and you immediately feel an urge to clench your thighs together to hold back an unusual tickle that you had never experienced so strongly before.

However, it is not sufficient.

Forgive me, Father… you think. Your cheeks redden with shame as the last bit of reason fades away from you at that precise moment your right hand goes straight under the cloth of your sundress, and just as if it has been guided by a dark and sinister force it sneaks between your legs, right in your cotton panties.

For I have sinned.

You aren’t used to touching yourself, and even if you had done it on rare occasions you'd never imagined doing it like this— secretly watching your priest as he does the same thing.

Soon you realize that something inside you is changing rapidly. It‘s just a tiny spark, but it can set your whole body on fire in no time.

And it’s all his fault.

Your fingertips slide between your already-soaked folds, coating in juices that flow out of you like a river, and then you start teasing yourself shamefully, trying to focus on the scene in front of you to avoid those pitiful and lonely voices that keep whispering to you to stop.

“Yes…” he licks his lower lip and for a brief moment you imagine how good, how pleasant it could be the feeling of his wet tongue on your skin, exactly where your hand is. It’s so, so wrong and you know it, but you can’t control yourself. It’s overwhelming.

His nudity contrasts sharply with the solemnity of the image behind him. He looks so vulnerable, so…

“So good…” he says between moans. You want to know what he’s thinking, what kind of images are guiding his imagination— if you’re part of them too.

His forearm anchors on the mattress to balance himself, and his hips buck against his hand to gain more friction.

“Oh, God…” his broad chest is heaving with every breath that escapes his lungs as you try your best to swallow every squeak, careful not to get caught right there.

Sweat covers his forehead, small drops sliding down his ecstatic face and neck, igniting your deepest fantasies while your fingertips rub at your clit in circular motions, mimicking the pace at which he’s stroking his length.

You can’t help but look at it. Thick and veiny, the tip red and leaking with precum, your pussy throbs around nothing at the mere idea of putting his whole girth in your virgin mouth and knowing how good it could taste.

The man bites his lips and you do it too in reflection.

You are a mess. Your trembling thighs are soaked by the juices dripping from your aching pussy as you frantically touch yourself. Your entire being lies completely under the tight grip of the Devil, ensnared in a web of darkness that seeks to control every thought, feeling, and action.

His strokes become erratic, and his eyebrows knit together in a mixture of pain and bliss. He is close… and in such a short time you are too. Your teeth bite your lower lip until it bleeds, in a desperate attempt to hold back a whine. But you don't stop. You will not do it until he will too.

All of a sudden, his hand stops. A guttural sound of satisfaction slips past his throat reaching your ears as he throws his head back and the orgasm washes over him.

The tight knot in your belly snaps and thousands of shocks invade your body from head to toe. Your vision goes blurry, your mind goes fuzzy and your knees get weak like jelly.

You’ve just reached the peak without even knowing it.

Thick ropes of his white seed spill from his throbbing cock, falling right on his palm and stomach.

Your mouth waters at the sight, you can swear that if only it had been possible you’d walk into that damn room and kneel in between his huge thighs just to lick him clean and suck the soul out of him, making him cum again and again and again.

For God’s sake, those thoughts will send you straight to hell!

Silence takes his moans’ place, and his eyes open slightly as his breathing searches for a more regular pace, just like yours.

You pull out your hand from your soaked panties. A wave of post-orgasmic sense of guilt crashes over you. You have just sinned. Right now is time to go to your room and get some rest, forgetting what have just happened and never thinking again about it, and yet your eyes and your feet are stuck right here, quivering for his next moves.

Everything has been so tempting and your body wants more.

He suddenly gets up from the mattress and makes his way towards the antique dresser next to the bed. A bowl full of water is on top of it, and he quickly dips both his hands inside of it to his wrists, washing away every sign of the sinful act he had just committed—unaware it’s happened in front of you.

From that spot, his body is perfectly exposed to your gaze, and your mind takes advantage of this to explore new, undiscovered places.

He‘s tall, radiant, and huge. He looks like a classical statue. His broad chest and chiseled abs seem to be sculpted in marble, just like his thick thighs and the strong and muscular arms he usually hides under the vestments.

He’s handsome.

Only the Lord knows what those arms are capable of, how those big and veiny hands would be able to touch and grab a woman’s body- your body. How good his mouth would be able to kiss you, bite you, lick you, satisfying the most private parts of you like no one ever did. If only he didn’t have to respect the vows of celibacy and obedience... if only he didn't choose to refuse lust and resist temptation for the rest of his life…

He wipes his hands with a clean towel near the basin, heavy breathing releasing from his lungs as if he wants to get rid of that slamming weight on his shoulders. The weight of the mortal sin he has just given into, the reason why he deserves to be punished— and maybe you deserve it too.

You see him going through the drawer and picking something before he lifts the wooden kneeler to the side. And when he approaches the bed again, you recognize the scourge in his hand.

Your heartbeat down faster as soon as you realize what’s going to happen. Father Charlie places the kneeler in front of the bed, exactly where he was before, and turnes his back to you, revealing his broad shoulders and his back previously tortured by the hits he self-inflicted with the tool he’s now placing on the sheets.

A bunch of shivers flood your body from head to toe, trepassing your spine. You see the still-opened wounds and cuts on his pale skin, the clear signs of every time he sinned and begged for forgiveness.

He kneels and firmly takes the scourge in his right hand. Seven cords, seven barbs for the seven deadly sins, and seven virtues.

The mortification of the flesh.

It‘s the only way to deaden his sinful nature and bring back his focus to the only thing he pledged to honour even after his bodily death.

He rests his elbows on the board, with his back straight as he looks at the white wall in front of him, his eyes filled with certainty and confidence.

He stands right there unshaken, keeping you on edge for his next move before his lips parts and he speaks.

"Merciful Lord, I come before You seeking forgiveness and healing" with a rapid flick of his hand he whips himself violently, making you gasp in shock. You hear him holding his breath, trying his best not to cry and scream from pain, and then he spakes again.

"f-for the sin of lust that… dwells within me." another lash, another flinch from you. Cords are already leaving marks and bruises, you can feel how much they sting on his skin and on his previous wounds as the sharp edges sink on his back mercilessly.

"I confess m-my weakness in giving in to… impure desires" his stomach jolts in pain, and his dilated pupils stare blankly at the painting on the wall as his lips tremble with each syllable "and… indulging in lustful t-thoughts and actions t-that offend… You."

A lot of blood starts gushing out from his wounds, staining the cords with a bright red color.

You cover your mouth in shock. You can see the pained look on his face, pleasure has completely abandoned his now-suffering body that‘s writhing at the feeling of those rusty barbs tearing his flesh apart at every whipping, painting the cold floor with the spatters of his own blood.

Father Charlie is asking for forgiveness, pleading the Lord to save him and have mercy on his damned soul, because he is aware of the burden on his shoulders and he wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

And the only way to regain his purity is through suffering, through that physical pain that can purify both his body and soul, leaving him weak and miserable like a dazed sailor who lost his compass and cannot find the horizon.

"Purify my heart" he barely mutters, too exhausted "renew my mind" his forearms lost their grip on the rubbed wood of the kneeler forcing him to cling to it as strength slowly leaves his body. You watch him with an alarmed look on your face, worried about his state "and sanctify my body as Your temple."

A final statement spoken with a broken voice before Father Charlie immediately collapses on the wooden structure, visibly in a worn out state. Spurting blood stains his bare back, his eyelids squeeze trying to kill the pain of that one last whip that completely slashed his flesh.

You accidentally step back with your left foot, producing a nearly undetectable noise that forces you to lean your hand against the wall to keep balance in an attempt not to get caught. Too late.

Father Charlie turns around quickly, towards the door he previously left slightly ajar. His gloomy eyes meet yours even if shrouded in darkness. Your heart stops in your chest, becoming like a stone falling into a bottomless pit.

Shit.

a/n: part 2?