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morgana-larkin · 3 days ago

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Alrighty, I finally finished it as I kept getting distracted when writing it due to the holidays. But here it is, Worth It chapter 14. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’ll be writing Chessy ones next as I finished the Donna ones. If you don’t read Chessy then Happy Holidays and Happy New Year! ❄️🥳🥳🥳

Worth It - Part 14

Warnings: Smut, swearing in English and Italian

Words: 11.3k

You awake to the smell of breakfast being cooked downstairs and you put your robe and slippers on before going downstairs. You open the kitchen door and the sight before you makes you smile. There’s Melissa, happily making food while humming the song that’s playing from her phone. She’s in her robe and her hair is in a messy bun and she looks so happy right now.

“Good morning!” She says when she sees you.

“Morning.” You say and she goes up to hug and kiss you. “Why are you so chipper this morning? You remind me of Janine.” You tell her and she scoffs at you before going back to the food.

“I’m just happy this morning. I got 2 weeks off of work and can spend time with my girl without interruptions or responsibilities.” She tells you and you smile.

“No interruptions besides the Christmas party that’s today and the new year eve party that’s on Friday.”

“Well that’s beside the point.” She says and you smile at her. “You should eat up, we got a meal to make and things to put in the car before going to Marie’s place.” She tells you as she hands you a plate of food.

“A frittata with pieces of ham and peppers in it?” You ask her and she nods. “What are we tasked with bringing today again?

“Pasta alla Norma, it’s a Sicilian pasta with eggplant.” She tells you.

“That’s like 5 Italian dishes that I know of that use eggplant.” You say and she looks at you with a smile.

“Because it adds the right flavour.” She says to you and strokes your cheek. “Remember what I told you about today?” She asks you and you nod.

“Stick by the people that I know, don’t get angry if they insult you or the pasta, and watch out for Marie as she’s a total nightmare on Christmas.” You tell her. “I still have questions about those.”

“What questions?”

“I don’t get why they would insult you. Even though you guys are Italian, it still doesn’t sound right. Also Marie was so sweet and quiet last time I met her.”

“And your parents are from Vermont, they’re practically Canadian but your mom is a complete bitch.” She tells you.

“Not every Canadian is nice. I’ve met a lot of Canadians since we’re so close to the border, some of them are real assholes.” You tell her and then finish up your breakfast.

“Marie is always like this on Christmas, she’s the sweetest Schemmenti but on Christmas she’s the worst.” Melissa tells you. “Been that way since we were kids and we don’t know why.” She tells you.

4 hours later and the pasta is made and the both of you head to the bathroom to start getting ready. You both hop in the shower and start washing when you feel hands wrap around your waist.

“What are you doing Melissa?” You ask with a smile as you lean into her touch.

“What if I want my taste of you before we go to the party?” She asks as she starts kissing your neck.

“Why do you always want sex right before your family’s parties?”

“Because I like claiming you as mine.” She says before spinning you around, pinning you to the shower wall and kissing you with force. You begin moaning into the kiss when she starts playing with your nipples. She goes to her knees and immediately wraps her mouth around your clit and sucks hard.

“Do you not want me to last long?” You manage to get out between moans. Melissa gets back up to be face to face with you and brings her hand to your clit.

“Consider we have to leave in an hour and a half, probably best if it’s quick.” She tells you and plays with your clit the way she knows drives you crazy.

“Melissa.” You gasp out as you’re close and she kisses you. You gasp into the kiss as you come and she pulls back with a smirk. “You’re evil.” You tell her with a smile and she giggles.

“Come on, we have to finish the shower and then get ready.” She says and you grab her hips with both your hands. “Woah!” She says as you pull her to you.

“You haven’t come yet.” You tell her and she smiles before she brings your leg out a bit and places herself on your leg.

“Then hold this leg still.” She says before she starts grinding on it. You tense up your leg muscles and she moans out as she keeps grinding. “Do you feel how wet I am, baby?” She asks and you nod. She keeps grinding on your leg until she comes with a gasp and rests her forehead against yours as she calms down. “I want to wash your hair.” She says and you tilt your head after she pulls back. “Can I wash your hair?” She asks and you nod before she pulls you under the water.

You pull your leather jacket on over your red dress and look in the mirror. You check your makeup again to make sure there’s no mistakes and then you put both of Melissa’s gifts in the bag, one for secret Santa and the other one because you wanted too. You get out of your room and then go downstairs to where Melissa is putting the food in a bag.

“I see we both went with leather and red.” You say as you see her outfit and she turns around to see you and her jaw drops. “What do you think?” You ask her as you do a little pose and she has to swallow all the extra saliva in her mouth due to her drooling over you.

“You look beautiful.” She says when she finds her voice.

“So do you.” You say. Melissa went with leather pants, a red top and a little pin on the right side of her shirt.

“I can’t wait until we get home and I can ravish you.” She says with her seductive voice and you shiver a bit at her words.

“That depends on how much you drink tonight.” You tell her and then walk past her to put your coat on. “Last time you couldn’t stop flirting and tease me.” You tell her. “Well until I brought you into Janine’s bathroom, did a quickie and then threw freezing cold water at your face.” You say and her mouth drops as you bend down to slip on your heeled boots.

“You threw water at me?” She says and you nod proudly as you see her shocked face. “Well that’s rude.”

“It was a fair punishment for trying to have sex with me in front of our coworkers for 4 hours.” You tell her and she pouts. “If that happens again but with your family then I might see how far you’ll go, especially with your siblings there who will tease you about it after.” You add on and then walk outside.

“And you say I’m evil.” Melissa says while she follows after you and then locks the door. “Stellina.” She says while she’s driving the both of you to her sister's house.

“Ya?” You ask and turn your head to look at her.

“There’s something that I haven’t told you and it might show today as I usually get a lot of Christmas cards from my family.” She starts and you tilt your head. “I’m dyslexic.” She says and you smile.

“Melissa, I already know.” You tell her and she furrows her eyebrows.

“How?”

“I’ve seen you grade tests and papers many times, I’ve seen you read over the same sentence twice many times.” You explain. “I don’t care if that’s what you’re worried about. And I never brought it up cause I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready.”

“It seems like you were made for me.” She says and you smile.

“Maybe I was, I am 20 years younger so maybe I was born to love you.” You say and she giggles.

“You’re cute.” She says.

Melissa knocks on the door and her brother Tony opens the door.

“Hey sis and Eva!” He says and hugs you both. “Thank god you’re here. Marie has gone crazy as usual and she ain’t listening to any of us.” He explains as you both walk in and hear shouting in Italian from the kitchen.

“Well what makes you think she’ll listen to me?” Melissa says.

“You’re the eldest sibling, you basically have Ma’s power until she gets here.” He says and you take Melissa’s bags of presents.

“Why don’t you go and try to calm your sister down and I'll put these under the tree.” You tell her and she nods before she heads to the kitchen. You head towards the tree and Tony follows you.

“So is Carl coming?” He asks and you look at him before rolling your eyes.

“Yes he is. Is your boyfriend here?” You counter.

“He is.” Tony answers. “But like I said before, open relationship, just last week we both went to the bar and made out with other people.” He tells you.

“How do you not get jealous by that?” You ask him.

“Well it’s sometimes the point, the other gets jealous and it makes the sex hotter.” He tells you and you grimace.

“Ok TMI.” You tell him. “You think it’s safe to go into the kitchen. There’s not as much shouting.” You say and then Maria Christina runs out.

“I was banned from the kitchen.” She says as she walks over to you both.

“Definitely not safe.” Tony tells you. Then the doorbell rings and Maria Christina goes and answers it.

“Merry Christmas Ma!” She says and you see Teresa there and she hugs her daughter.

“Are all my Bambini here?” She asks her daughter.

“Yep, most in the kitchen. The two out here are the ones who got banned.” She says and Teresa smiles.

“Merry Christmas Tony and to you as well Eva. I’m guessing Melissa is in the kitchen?” She asks you and you nod.

“I believe she’s trying to keep the peace until you get here.” You explain and she laughs.

“Sounds like an Italian Christmas.” She tells you before heading into the kitchen. You hear all the shouting stop at once and then you hear Teresa shout out some orders.

“Why are only the siblings here?” You ask Tony.

“Most people don’t get here until 4 or 5.” He tells you. “We just get here early to help out.”

“Melissa warned me that this family is the worst on Christmas. But I’m confused, I just saw you all on Thanksgiving and you were alright.”

“Schemmenti’s and extended family get feisty on Christmas.” He says.

“But why?”

“Christmas has never been the same since Nonna died, now Christmas has to be perfect.” He explains to you.

You then see Melissa, John Anthony and Marie Camille come out and they’re all carrying dishes. They go and put them on the giant dining table and then Melissa walks over to you.

“Keeping all my siblings in line is tiring.” She says. “I already want to drink.” She adds on and you giggle.

“Well I’m driving home so drink all you want.” You say and she wraps her arm around your shoulders.

“Thanks for the reminder.” She tells you and then places a kiss on your cheek and then goes back into the kitchen.

An hour later all the food is out and people have been arriving non stop. Kids have been running past you and immediately head for the basement before you’re not going to see them again for the evening. You go and take a seat on a couch and just sit there with a glass of juice in your hand, watching everyone catch up with other people.

“Melissa, go keep your girl company.” Melissa hears Seamus say.

“Why? Is she ok?” Melissa asks.

“She’s sitting on the couch alone. I mean I could just tell the rest of our siblings and I’m sure they’ll run over to her.” He tells her.

Melissa scoffs before she picks up her wine glass and leaves the room to the living room. “No need to tell them.” Melissa tells her brother.

“Hey Stellina, what are you doing all alone?” She tells you and sits beside you.

“I don’t know a lot of your family and there’s a lot of people here. So I just decided to sit here.” You tell her and lean into her. She puts an arm around you and kisses the side of your head.

“You could have come to find me. Seamus told me that you were all alone here.” She tells you.

“Well I’m ok, I was alone but I was watching everyone converse with each other.” You tell her. “How many glasses of wine have you had?”

“Lost count after 2.” She tells you and takes a sip. She then turns her head to face you and you give her a kiss. She grabs your chin and keeps you into the kiss until you hear someone call your name.

“Hey Eva.” You turn and see Carl there followed by John, George and Anna.

“Auntie Eva!” Anna says excitedly and then runs to hug you.

“Hi Anna, and Merry Christmas!” You tell her and then she goes and hugs Melissa.

“Hi Melissa!” She says.

“Hello Anna.” She says and returns the hug.

“Anna, if you want you can go and join all the kids in the basement.” You tell her and she smiles before she runs down and joins the other kids.

“You know now I know what it’s like when you walk in on me and George kissing.” John tells you and you stand up to hug him.

“Ya, but it’s worth it to see you happy.” You tell him. “Merry Christmas.” You add on.

An hour later and you and Melissa return to the couch with plates full of food.

“So anything interesting happen since thanksgiving?” Toni asks everyone.

“Well Eva got jealous of a parent flirting with me.” Melissa says and everyone looks at her.

“Well Ms. Obvious here didn’t even know the parent was flirting with her all week.” You add on.

“So how are you two together if you don’t notice someone flirting with you for a week?” Marie Camille asks Melissa.

“Well I noticed Eva was flirting with me. But because I love Eva, I didn’t notice the parent’s advances.” Melissa defends herself with.

“So what did you do then Eva?” Maria Christina asks like it’s interesting gossip.

“Mostly ignored and got mad at Melissa.” You say and Melissa rolls her eyes.

“Ya, wasn’t fun being ignored all week.” She says.

“I was going to go shout at the parent but Barb stopped me and instead I went up to Melissa and kissed her in front of the parent.” You tell them and smirked at Melissa.

“And then on Monday she saw the hickeys you left on my neck from Friday and left me alone after that.” Melissa adds on.

“But she leaves you alone, that’s the important part.” You say and Melissa wraps an arm around you.

“Yep, you made sure she got the message.” Melissa tells you with a smile. “So anything interesting with any of youse?” Melissa asks all her siblings and yours.

After everyone eats then dessert is put out and everyone gets up to get more food.

“Please eat as much as you want.” Marie yells at everyone. “I do not want to be stuck with a bunch of food again.” She complains after sitting down with her siblings.

“Aw, don’t complain sis, it’s Christmas, lighten up.” Seamus tells her.

“Tell me to lighten up one more time Seamus and I’ll punch you in the face.” She tells him.

Melissa puts her head on your shoulder as well as a hand on your thigh.

“Alcohol starting to take effect?” You ask her.

“Nope.” She says with a smile and then runs a finger up and down your thigh.

“I think it is.” You say and grab her hand that was on your thigh and she lifts her head up and faces you.

“I’m not drunk, I just really love you.” She says and gets really close to your face.

“Well I really love you too.” You tell her and give her a kiss.

“Sis, do you ever think you might want to date a man again?” Kristen Marie asks Melissa.

“Why would I do that when I have her?” Melissa asks and points at you.

“I meant if it doesn’t work out.” Kristen Marie says and you give her a confused look.

“Why wouldn’t it work out? Are you wanting to break up with me?” She asks you and you shake your head.

“Of course not.” You tell her. “Kristen Marie what the hell are you trying to get at?” You ask her sternly.

“I’m just curious.” She says and puts her hands up in defence. Melissa then wraps her arms around your waist and you wrap an arm around her.

“Don’t leave me.” She mumbles out and you stroke her head.

“I don’t plan on it.” You tell her.

“Get yourself together Melissa.” Teresa says and you look at her mom. “If you’re too clingy then she’ll leave you.” Her mom adds and you glare at her mom.

“Glares don’t work with this family Eva.” She says to you and then walks away.

As if sensing the tension that happened, Marie suddenly yells out “PRESENT TIME!” She says and gets up to go to the Christmas tree that’s full of cards and presents. “Ok we’ll do secret Santa first. Eva, can you come help me? I know you’re not drunk.” She asks you and you peel Melissa off of you and walk over to the tree. “Ok you find presents for secret Santa and then hand them to me so I can give it to the person.” She says and you nod and then search through the gifts.

After everyone got a gift then they all proceed to open their gifts while you sit down with yours. You open yours and see it’s a vibrator and you quirk an eyebrow and see Maria Christina smirking at you.

“For when Melissa isn’t in the mood and you are.” She tells you and you look at Melissa who has no idea what’s going on as she’s opening her gift that you got her.

“Oh my god! A pink leather jacket! That’s so amazing!” She yells out and she looks around at everyone’s face to see who it might be. She looks and sees you holding your phone and telling her to try it on. “Wait a minute, this is our wrapping paper. You’re my secret Santa?” She asks you and you nod.

“Now get up and put it on so I can take a picture of you in it.” You tell her and she does as you say.

“You’re so obedient outside of the bedroom.” Toni tells her and Melissa flips her off and then puts the jacket on.

“Does it fit?” You ask her and she moves her arms around before nodding.

“It’s perfect!” She says with a huge smile and you take a picture while she poses. She then gives you a big hug as she sits back down beside you.

“Ok Eva, I need your help again. Get your ass over here.” Marie says and you get up and walk over to the tree. “Ok I need you to help me hand out the gifts.” She tells you.

“But I don’t know who everyone is.” You tell her. “Just your siblings, my siblings and your mom.” You tell her.

“I know, which is why if it’s someone you don’t know then hand it to me.” She tells you and you nod.

10 minutes later and all the presents are handed out to everyone. You go and sit back down and see 4 presents, and 8 cards there for you. You go and read who they’re all from. You see the presents are from Melissa, Kristen Marie, John and Carl. You open all the cards first and see all 7 of Melissa’s siblings gave you one as well as Teresa. You then go and open the gifts. You open Carl and John’s gifts first before you open Kristen Marie’s gift.

“Do I even want to know what you got me?” You ask her and she shrugs. You open it up and see she got you a shirt that says ‘I’m with stupid’ and coincidentally it’s pointed right at Melissa. You actually laugh at that and it gets Melissa’s attention and she looks at it and then glares at her sister.

“Rude.” She says before she goes back to opening cards.

You then open Melissa’s gift and see she gave you a framed photo of the 2 of you and you see there’s a little note attached to it and you take it and open it up. ‘For you to put on your desk in the library for everyone to know you’re mine.’ It says and you look at her and smile. “You’re sweet.” You tell her and she looks at you and smiles back at you. “You have no idea why I’m calling you sweet do you?” You ask her and she shakes her head. “You’re so drunk, my love.” You tell her and she goes back to opening Christmas gifts. She opens your gift and sees you got her a photo album and she opens it to see there’s already pictures of the two of you in it. “I hope to fill it with you.” You tell her and a tear runs down her face and she hugs you.

“Thank you, Mia Stellina.” She says to you and you smile.

“Merry Christmas Melissa.” You say to her when you pull back from the hug.

“Merry Christmas Evalina.” She says back to you and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

“Ouch a pity cheek kiss.” You hear next to you and turn to John Anthony there.

“Shut up, it’s not pity.” You tell him and he shrugs.

“It looked like it.” He says and you glare and then remember that glares do nothing to Schemmenti’s.

“Maybe you should shut the fuck up.” You tell him and Melissa looks at you as well as all the other siblings.

“Ooohhh, Eva is getting feisty.” Maria Christina says and you roll your eyes.

Half an hour later and all the siblings are visibly drunk and what Melissa said is true, they’re kinda assholes on Christmas and they’re getting on your last nerves as they’re picking on you and Melissa.

“Oh my god, Melissa, are you a homosexual?” You hear and you all look up to see Uncle Archie there and you notice the placement of Melissa’s hands, one is wrapped around your waist and the other is on your thigh.

“I’m bisexual.” Melissa tells him and gives you another cheek kiss. Uncle Archie then looks at you.

“Melissa wasn’t a homosexual before, did you convert her?” He accuses you and you get up and walk away to the bathroom. You ignore all the calls of your name from Melissa and her siblings, as well as your siblings.

You get to a free bathroom and you lock yourself in it and take a deep breath at the sink. You try to get control of your breathing and then you hear a knock on the door.

“Eva, you in there?” You hear John say and you unlock the door and let him in. “Hey, are you alright? You looked upset back there.” He asks you as he closes the door and locks it.

“No, I'm not ok. Melissa warned me that there’s always insults thrown to everyone especially on Christmas and then her uncle Archie was the last straw.” You tell him. “It reminds me of mom.” You tell him. “Except all in one night. I came to Philly to get away from the criticism and I’m in a relationship with someone who’s family does it on Christmas every year.” You add on and he hugs you.

“I know it’s not easy.” He starts with. “If it makes you feel better, when I left, her brothers were holding Melissa back from strangling their uncle. And I believe she was cursing, it was hard to tell as it was slurred and in Italian.” He adds and you snort.

“Sounds like her.” You say.

“Why don’t you talk to Melissa about this tomorrow? Obviously not tonight as she’s super drunk. But tomorrow tell her how you feel and she’ll definitely think of something to help make you feel better.” He tells you and you nod.

“Do you ever miss it? Home.” You ask him and he thinks about it.

“Rarely but there has been moments in the past 8 years. Why? Do you miss it?” He asks.

“A little. I miss the home we grew up in, the friends we made, the life we were trying to build and then realised we had to leave our mom.” You tell him and you let out a dry laugh. “But I would miss Philly more if I ever moved.” You say to him.

“Why would you ever leave Philly? Melissa is here and I don’t see her moving out of Philly as her whole life is here.” He asks.

“I know, but if it didn’t work out with her then I would move.” You say.

“Just ignore all the stuff that her family has been saying. I don’t see this relationship with her failing, this is the first mature relationship you’ve been in.” He tells you. “Even to that girl who proposed to you 5 years ago, she wasn’t mature enough for you.” He adds and you nod.

“Is the reason you came instead of Melissa is because she’s threatening murder?” You ask with a smile and he laughs.

“Pretty much.” He says and then you both hear a knock at the door.

“Eva? You in there?” You hear Melissa say, the words slurred. John looks at you and then you wipe at the tears that formed before nodding to him. He unlocks the door and opens it to reveal Melissa.

“Oh thank god I found you. Are you ok?” She says as she runs to you and gives you a hug.

“Ya, I’m ok. Just needed a break.” You tell her as she pulls back.

“We can leave if you want.” She tells you and you shake your head.

“I actually want some more dessert.” You tell her and she smiles while you both head to the dessert table.

“Eva, you missed Melissa threatening to strangle Uncle Archie.” Toni says. “Seamus and John Anthony had to hold her back cause she was actually going to.” She adds on and then laughs.

“Could you imagine if she killed him?” Kristen Marie says. “Would have made the party better.” She adds on and everyone agrees and then laughs.

Everyone stays for another hour and then people start to head out. You see Melissa start to get sleepy and then decide it’s time to head out as well.

“Melissa and I are gonna go before she falls asleep on me. I cannot carry her inside the house.” You say and you pull Melissa up from the couch. You both say goodbye to everyone before you get the containers back from Marie and then get ready before leaving to Melissa’s car.

Once you get home you grab all the gifts and containers and Melissa unlocks the door and you both go inside. You both go get ready, with you helping Melissa get dressed, and then you fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

You wake up to Melissa scrambling out of bed and running to the bathroom and you check the time, 7:47am. Melissa comes out a few minutes later and doesn’t look good.

“You look like hell.” You tell her and she groans.

“Why didn’t you stop me from drinking so much?” She asks and you shrug.

“I honestly didn’t see you half the time.” You tell her. “You were either helping out, chatting to family members, or I was helping hand out all the gifts.” You say to her and she falls on the bed and snuggles into you.

“Do you mind warming up the leftovers from yesterday?” She asks you and you nod.

“Sure, I’ll be right back.” You tell her and slip out of the bed, put your robe on and go downstairs. You come back to Melissa fast asleep and you go to wake her up gently. She blinks her eyes open and then looks confused before seeing you with food in your hands. She gets up and eagerly accepts one of the plates from you.

A couple hours later you’re scrolling on your phone with Melissa snuggling into you. You then think about what John told you yesterday and you look at Melissa.

“Hey Melissa, are you feeling up for a conversation?” You ask her and she looks up at you.

“Is everything alright?” She asks when she sees your face.

“What do you remember from last night?” You ask her and she thinks about it.

“Not much, I remember gifts, I’m definitely going to wear that pink leather jacket to school.” She tells you and you nod with a smile. “I remember little bits of conversations and threatening to strangle Uncle Archie for some reason, although knowing him he probably deserved it.” She says with a small laugh and then looks at you. “Did he say something to you?” She says and gets up slowly to not give herself motion sickness.

“He did, he told me I converted you to being a homosexual.” You tell her and you see a fire start in her eyes. “It’s fine, you already defended me by threatening him and you were held back by your brothers or else you would have strangled him, and you were cursing at him in Italian.” You tell her. “The truth is your entire family got on my nerves.” You tell her and she looks at you confused. “The way they were picking on both of us reminded me of my mom.” You explain to her and she gives you a sympathetic look. “I don’t know if I can be with someone who’s family is like the exact same person I moved away from to escape her.” You add on and she looks at you with a worried look as she sits up more and grabs your hand.

“I don’t want to lose you Eva. I can talk to my family and tell them to cool it or we won't go to family get togethers.” She suggests.

“I couldn’t keep you from your family, your family is everything to you, I know that.” You tell her.

“It seems as if you’re making me choose between you and my family.” She says softly. “And I can’t choose.” She says and you grab her other hand.

“I’m not asking you to do that. I’m saying that I can’t be around your family. So whenever there’s a family get together then I won’t be going to it.” You tell her and a tear slides down her cheek. “I’m still trying to heal from my past and my mom. And being around people that are like her isn’t helping. Maybe after time then I can be around them, but right now, I can’t.” You add and she sniffles.

“I don’t want to go if you’re not there.” She says.

“I don’t want to keep you from them and give them a reason to hate me.” You tell her.

“You’re not keeping me from them, I’m choosing to stay with my girlfriend.” She tells you. “Will you at least come to the New Year’s Eve party at my mom’s?” She asks you and you think about it before nodding your head.

“Ok, one more party.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

The two of you spend the day in bed as Melissa was trying to get over a hangover and you just happily read the new book to her that she got from one of her siblings.

During the day, when you went to the bathroom, Melissa sent a threatening message to her siblings group chat.

Melissa: Hey you stronzos listen up, you’ll have to cool it with your insults and picking on us or I will kill you. Got it?

Kristen Marie: where is this coming from?

Toni: I don’t think that’s possible in this family

Maria Christina: I don’t even remember last night

Seamus: Does this have something to do with Eva?

Tony: I also don’t remember last night

Marie Camille: We need more context Melissa

Marie: Were we too much for Eva last night?

John Anthony: I barely remember anything at all, the only thing I remember is Melissa threatening to strangle uncle Archie and telling him to go to hell in Italian

Melissa: The details don’t matter, just cool it or I will make do on my threat

Kristen Marie: I’m texting Eva

Melissa then goes to text Kristen Marie so she won’t text you but then sees you coming out of the bathroom with a confused expression.

“Why is Kristen Marie asking if I’m ok? Oh my god are you threatening your siblings?” You ask her as you get another text.

“Yes I am, I’m telling them to cool it or I’m gonna kill them.” She tells you plainly.

“You don’t have to commit murder for me.” You tell her.

“Family you kill for, even if you have to kill blood relatives.” She tells you. “Outside of my blood relatives, you and Barb are my family.” She tells you and rejoin her in the bed.

“That’s so sweet, no one has offered to kill for me.” You tell her and she wraps her arms around you while you place your head on her chest.

“If you’re not already feeling better from yesterday then my boobs should do the trick.” She jokes and you giggle.

“They are really comfortable and squishy.” You say and squeeze one of them. “Two giant pillows for me to lay on. And other times two nipples to suck on to help turn you on. Or even times they’re two big stress balls.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Glad they’re multi-functional for you. They’ve mostly been a pain for my back and just a pervert magnet at bars.” She tells you and you lift up her shirt and put your hand on one of her boobs. “What are you doing?” She asks.

“Playing.” You tell her and then you do a little kitten lick to the nipple. You feel her hips move slightly and you smile. “What did you say yesterday before the party? Wasn’t it that you want to ravish me when we get back?” You ask her.

“I did say that.” She tells you calmly but you can tell by her dark eyes that she’s turned on.

“Aren’t you going to do what you said or are you gonna be a liar?” You challenge her and she smirks.

“Maybe you should give me a reason why I should pin you to this bed and make you cum until you beg me to stop.” She says and your jaw drops and your brain stops working. “Did I make you speechless, my little sugar plum?” She says.

“Sugar plum?” You ask her and tilt your head.

“It’s the holiday season, seems appropriate.” She says and then you lean to her and kiss her. You pull back after a few seconds and you see her eyes are darker.

“You know I could always just take out that new vibrator your sister gave me last night if you’re not in the mood.” You say and you go to get out of bed but she grabs you and pins you to the bed.

“Which sister?” She asks you and you smile.

“Maria Christina.”

“Of course she did.” Melissa says with an eye roll and then she kisses you. She pulls back and then she takes her shirt off of you, one of her longer shirts that you love to wear to bed. “No matter how many times I see this body, I still love undressing you.” She tells you and you smile. She gets on top of you and then bends down to kiss your neck. She starts sucking and you start moaning and try to buck your hips but she’s on top of you. “Already turned on? I barely touched you.” She teases and you whimper. “Relax little Stellina.” She says near your ear and then she trails her mouth down to your nipples and takes one in her mouth. She brings her hand down over your centre and runs her fingers through your folds. “You’re so wet.” She says before easily sliding a finger in you.

You moan as you feel her finger inside of you, hitting all of the spots that make you feel good. “Melissa.” You moan out and she smiles around your nipple. You feel your orgasm building and you start squeezing around her finger and then she pulls out. You snap your head up at her and she smirks before she gets off of you and reaches for the nightstand. “What the hell? I was getting close.” You tell her and then she pulls the strap out and you blush.

“I know you were close but I need you needy and wet.” She says as she takes her shorts off and slips the strap on. She makes sure the dildo is placed at her clit before she gets in between your legs. “Now, I know you’re wet, but I don’t know how needy you really are. I don’t know if you really want this.” She says to you and you gulp. She then places her hands beside you and makes sure the dildo is near your entrance and leans down so she’s close to your ear. “How needy are you?” She whispers in your ear and then pulls back to look at you. You let out a whimper and she smirks at your reaction. “That’s not an answer, baby.” She says as she strokes your cheek.

“Please, Melissa.” You beg.

“It doesn’t seem like you really want it.” She teases and you grab her shirt and pull her towards you. “Woah!”

“Please mommy, I need to feel you inside of me.” You beg again and she smiles widely before she grabs the dildo and then slowly slides in you.

“You’re so needy for mommy.” She says before she’s all the way inside of you. “I know this would be much better if this was a real cock.” She says before she starts moving inside of you. “Where I can feel you all hot around me, squeezing me to make sure I stay inside of you, squeezing me dry to make sure I finish inside of you.” She says and you wrap your legs around her to pull her closer. “If I were to finish inside of you, then I would really claim you.” She tells you and then begins rubbing your clit. You start breathing hard as you feel your orgasm starting to build. You’re aware that hers is building as well, as her movements aren’t as steady, her breathing is heavy as well.

Your foreheads connect as you both get close and you have your mouth open as you're right at the edge and then she notices you’re squeezing the dildo as it got a little harder to push inside of you. You then gasp as you come out and then Melissa comes right after you. She pulls out of you and then goes and rubs your clit and you gasp.

“I told you, make you come until you beg me to stop.” She tells you and you put your hands in her hair and you grab a handful and squeeze as you’re already so close to your second orgasm. She kisses you and your arch your back slightly as you reach your second orgasm with a moan. She doesn’t stop as she immediately inserts a finger in your entrance while still rubbing your clit and you cry out.

“Melissa, Melissa please, it’s too much.” You tell her.

“I think I can get one more out of you.” She says as she rubs your clit faster and you unwrap your legs from around her and place your feet on the bed. You start bucking your hips as the sensation is overwhelming and she pins you to the bed and kisses you to help. “Take your time baby, don’t force it.” She says and you relax as much as possible as you feel your orgasm building quickly. You then squeeze her finger as your whole body tenses and then you come with a gasp. She pulls out of you and immediately lays beside you and cuddles you to help your body calm down. She feels your body shaking slightly and she kisses your cheek and brings you closer to her.

“You do what you say you will.” You pant out and she smiles as she rubs your arm. “Also, do you have a breeding kink?” You ask her after a second and she looks at you confused.

“What’s a breeding kink?” She asks and you have to think how to word it.

“It’s that you love the thought of breeding me but without me getting pregnant.” You explain to her and she hums.

“I guess I do.” She says. “It’s more the thought of you being mine though.” She adds on and you get more comfortable on her. “How about I run us a nice hot bath?” She suggests after a few seconds and you nod your head.

“Ok.” You say, a bit tired.

“Did those 3 orgasms wear you out?” She asks you, amused. You nod again and she giggles. She gets up and runs a hot bath and she gets you to follow her so you don’t fall asleep on the bed. She gets in the bath first and then you get in after her and lay on her chest. She places her chin on the top of your head and wraps her arms around you. After a minute she notices your breathing evens out and she lets you sleep for a few minutes before waking you up.

The next day she surprises you by teaching you how to waltz around the living room after moving the dining table into the kitchen.

“When did you learn how to waltz?” You ask her as you see she’s really good.

“Ma put me in dance classes when I was 7 after I asked.” She tells you. “As the golden child, I got my wish.” She says and you chuckle.

“I thought you only did enough to stay in her top five?” You question and she laughs.

“I did, but at this point there was only 4 of us. Marie Camille was just born when I went to dance classes.” She explains.

“What was your childhood like? I mean you have 8 younger siblings and you’re Italian. Must have been difficult.” You say and she thinks about it.

“It was more annoying having 8 siblings then it was having Nonna make sure I know how to cook properly.” She tells you. “It was difficult having to help raise my siblings, as I’m sure you know.” She says and you nod. “But it was also the 70’s and 80’s.”

“What’s the age differences?” You ask her and thinks about it.

“Let’s see. Well as you know, I’m 50.” She starts out and you nod. “Kristen Marie is 2 years younger than me so she’s 48, Marie is 2 years younger than Kristen Marie so she’s 46.” She continues and thinks about her other siblings. “Marie Camille is 3 years younger than Marie so she’s 43, John Anthony is 2 years younger than her so he’s 41. Maria Christina was born just 11 months after him so she’s 40. The terrible twins were born 2 years later so they’re 38. Pa died shortly after the twins were born and then Ma got married about 4 years later and then had Seamus who’s 6 years younger than the twins, so he’s 32. Seamus was born when I was turning 18.” She finishes explaining and you nod.

“Must have been a packed house.” You tell her and she giggles.

“Loud is the right word.” She says and then spins you around then continues to teach you to waltz.

“Would you want that many kids?” You ask her and she immediately shakes her head.

“I only want 1 or 2.” She says and you smile.

“I want that as well.” You tell her and she kisses you. “Have you ever thought of any names?” You ask her and she nods.

“I thought of the name Liliana for a girl and Luca for a boy. Liliana in a way came from the name Lily so it’s like the Italian version. I have thought of non Italian names but I don’t like them as much.” She tells you and you smile.

“I’ve seen Italian names and I like them too.” You tell her and she smiles.

“And which ones have you thought of?” She asks.

“I like a few E names for girls.” You start and she nods. “I like Emilia, Eleanora and Eliana.” You tell her.

“And the fascination with E names has nothing to do with your name beginning with an E?” She asks you and you giggle.

“I guess it kinda seems like that but there’s no relation.” You tell her and she spins you around. “I also like the names Veronica, Vanessa, Sophia and Diana.” You tell her and she hums.

“You have quite a list for girl names, what about boy names? Have you thought of those at all?” She asks and you nod.

“I liked the names Enrico, Pietro and Romeo. Romeo just because it reminds me of Romeo and Juliet.” You tell her and she rolls her eyes.

“No Romeo.” She immediately says.

“What?”

“Ma said that she was told there was a kid in Sicily named Romeo and he was made fun of in school because of Romeo and Juliet. And I don’t doubt the same thing would happen here, I mean I’m with second graders all day, someone named Romeo would more than likely get made fun of.” She explains and you pout. “Besides want to name a kid because of a story about star crossed lovers who both commit suicide?” She adds on and you think about it.

“I like Romeo and Juliet. The idea of a forbidden love and then two people who are willing to do anything to be together.” You tell her. “Wait, is Juliet Italian?” You ask her.

“No, it’s Latin.” She says and you pout. “Oh, stop pouting.” She says with a smile.

“But Romeo and Juliet takes place in Italy and Juliet is not an Italian name?” You question.

“I’m not the right person to ask that question to.” She says with a quirked eyebrow. “The right person would be Shakespeare.” She says.

“Well if I ever get the chance to meet him then I’ll definitely ask him.” You say and she shakes her head. She then spins you so that your back is to her front and has her arm wrapped around you while your hands are still entwined. “Is this part of the waltz?” You ask her and she hums.

“No, more of the Rumba but I just want to feel you close to me.” She tells you.

“Exactly how many styles of dancing do you know?” You ask her and she thinks about it.

“Well I know the Waltz, Rumba, Salsa, Samba, Tango, Quickstep and a small amount of the Foxtrot.” She says and you smile.

“Will you teach me all of those?” You ask her and she nods with a smile.

“I could teach you the Rumba next, the dance of love.” She says and you lean your head back and she kisses your forehead.

“I’d like that, we already got the love part done.” She says and she hums. “I know a bit of burlesque dancing.” You say suddenly and she spins you around so you’re face to face.

“Is that why you’re so good at giving lap dances?” She asks and you nod.

“So what are we doing for the rest of the week and are we bringing anything to the party on Friday?” You ask her.

“I thought we could bring cacio e Pepe.” She tells you and you smile.

“The first meal you ever taught me.” You say and she nods.

“It’s what helped bring us closer, I thought we could bring it to the end of the year party.” She says.

“You know some teachers think you’re not romantic and soft, and by some I mean all, but you are romantic and soft.” You tell her and she groans.

“Don’t go telling them that, I got a reputation and it keeps annoying ones away from me.” She says and you smirk.

“What would you do if I go around revealing your soft side?” You challenge her and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“If you did then I would have to punish you.” She says and starts walking forward and you’re forced to walk back. “I would have to punish you by edging you until you apologise.” She adds and you gasp as your back hits the wall and Melissa traps you. She pins your hands above you while she kisses you with force and places her leg between yours. You start grinding on her leg as you got turned on by her kisses. She presses her body right up against yours and you moan as you feel her boobs squished up against you. You get close to an orgasm and then she pulls back and then walks away. “That’s what would happen if you told.” She says as she walks to the couch. You gasp out in disbelief and then walk towards her.

“That was cruel.” You pout and she laughs. “I mean I haven’t told anyone.” You say and then you pounce on her and you both fall onto the couch. You’re straddling her lap and then you kiss her with the same force she was kissing you just moments ago. You then grind on her thigh until you come.

The week goes by quickly as you both relax and have sex for the entire week. It’s Friday at noon and you’re both making the dish to bring to the New Year’s party.

“I think you’ll find my family is tamer today. They’re only the worst at Christmas.” She says as you’re helping her with the dish.

“I already told you that I’ll see that for myself tonight. If it’s true then I’ll go to the Easter party and whatever other holiday you celebrate with your family.” You tell her and she smiles.

“That’s all I ask.” She says and then gives you a kiss before you both continue the dish.

You slip on a purple dress and then you walk outside and see Melissa in a sparkly gold shirt, leather pants and she’s slipping on the pink leather jacket you gave her.

“Nice outfit, that jacket really brings it together.” You tell her and she laughs.

“I hope you don’t get cold, you didn’t even put tights on.” She tells you and you shrug.

“If I get cold then I’ll just cuddle with you and steal your warmth.” You and hug her.

“So you’re gonna be a little Koala?” She says as she picks up her purse and the bag with the food.

“No, I’m gonna be your little Koala.” You say and she giggles.

“Well then my little Koala, how about we go to the party or I might want to just stay here and fuck you until next year.” She says and you shiver.

“Well I won’t say no to that.” You tell her and she snorts before walking to the door.

“Finally you guys made it.” Teresa says as you both walk into the house.

“Hello to you too Ma.” Melissa says and then she hugs her mom. “I made some Cacio e Pepe for today.” Melissa says and then hands her mom the container.

“Oh how nice, haven’t had that dish in a little bit.”

“It was the first dish I taught Eva how to make.” Melissa tells her.

“Count yourself lucky Eva, Melissa doesn’t reveal the family secrets of our cooking to just anyone.” Teresa tells you.

“Oh I already know how lucky I am.” You say and then kiss Melissa’s cheek.

“Eva, do you mind if I take Melissa for a second?” She asks you and you look at Melissa who nods.

“I’ll go talk with your siblings, I see them over there.” You tell her and she gives you a kiss before you walk over to her siblings.

“What is it Ma?” Melissa asks.

“How long have you two been together?”

“3 months, why?”

“The chemistry you both share reminds me of the chemistry between me and your Pa. Don’t let this one get away.” Teresa says and then walks away.

“What did your mom want?” You ask her once she joins you and her siblings.

“Nothing much, just said she approves of our relationship.” She tells you.

“I think that was clear as she keeps inviting me to family events.” You tell her and she smiles.

“So what are you and my troublemaking siblings talking about?” She asks.

“Troublemakers? Us?” Toni says in fake shock.

“Well we are.” Maria Christina says. “Except for the older boring ones.” She adds and giggles with the twins.

“Oh Eva, your brothers are already here but they got swept away by family members.” John Anthony tells you.

“Oh thank you, I’m sure they’ll circle back to here at some point.” You say and then you turn to Melissa.

“So who’s the designated drinker tonight?” You ask her.

“I still remember my major hangover from Sunday so you go right ahead.” Melissa tells you and you nod then go grab a drink.

You get swept away by Vinny and Annette after grabbing a drink and you stay and talk with them for a few minutes.

“So I heard there was some trouble at Christmas.” Annette says to you.

“At Christmas her siblings and mom act like my mom and I’m trying to heal from the trauma my mom caused me.” You tell her honestly and she nods.

“I get it, Italian families can be tough to adjust to.” She says. “A lot easier if you’re born into them so then you desensitize.” She adds on and you nod. Just then Uncle Archie joins and you glare at him.

“You’re that queer that turned Melissa into a homosexual.” He tells you and Vinny holds him back while Annette puts an arm in front of you.

“She was born like that.” You tell him and he scoffs.

“She married a nice man and now she’s dating a little girl.” He says and before you can think about it, you throw your drink at him and everyone turns to look at the scene. Melissa walks up to you, sees what happened and pulls you away.

“Just walk away.” She tells you. “What are all youse looking at like this doesn’t happen all the time?” She asks everyone and then they all go back to their conversations. “Are you ok?” She asks you and you nod.

“I just don’t like him.” You tell her and she smiles.

“No one really does. He’s too set in his ways.” She tells you and then takes your cup. “Looks like you can use a refill. Come on.” She says and then goes with you to get you another drink. “Here, this is a stronger drink.” She says and hands it to you. You chug it down and she laughs at you before handing you another one. “Better be slower with this one unless you want a major hangover.” She says and you nod before taking a couple sips. “A few cousins want to talk to you to get to know you.” She says and then brings you over to some people.

You get to know a few new family members of hers instead of just her immediate family members, and you quite like everyone you meet, except for Uncle Archie who stays away from you. You start to get quite drunk around 10pm and Melissa stays by your side more as she wants to keep an eye on you.

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.” Melissa tells you and you nod before she walks away.

“Look at her ass and boobs more and you’re no better than a perv.” Kristen Marie says as she walks up to you.

“Well I’m with her so I’m just a pervy girlfriend then.” You tell her and she smiles.

“So what happened at Christmas? You never told me why Melissa was threatening us.”

“You guys reminded me of my mom.” You tell her and she nods.

“I guess we’re a lot on Christmas.” She says and you nod. “We’re much better every other day of the year though.” She adds and you giggle. You then stumble and fall into Kristen Marie who catches you. “You’re quite drunk.” She tells you and takes your drink. “How many of these have you had?” She asks after sniffing it.

“4…?” You say unsure, then start showing fingers that definitely don’t add up to 4.

“They’re really strong.” She tells you.

“And tastes really good.” You say and giggle.

“Your girlfriend is really drunk.” Kristen Marie says and then pushes you to Melissa.

“Wee!” You say and then Melissa catches you. “Can I tell you a secret?” You ask her and she nods. “I have a girlfriend who probably won’t like how close we are.” You whisper to her. “You actually look a lot like her.” You say with surprise and you gasp. “Like twins.” You say and she starts leading you to the couch as you keep stumbling as you walk.

“I’m sure your girlfriend won’t mind if I take care of you tonight.” She tells you and then throws you on the couch.

“Ahh!” You say and then burst out into giggles as you hit the couch.

“I’ll go get you some water and food.” Melissa says and then walks away to the kitchen.

“What’s up Eva?” Maria Christina asks you as she sits down next to you.

“Don’t tell Melissa but I may have drank a lot.” You tell her “shh.” You say and do the ‘shh’ motion.

“I won’t tell her. But maybe you and your loose lips want to play truth or dare?” She asks you as everyone agrees.

“Ok, but don’t tell Melissa.” You say and then giggle.

“Eva, truth or dare?” Maria Christina asks you.

“Dare!” You exclaim and Melissa comes back just as you say that.

“I dare you to kiss-”

“The name you say better be mine cause she ain’t kissing nobody else.” Melissa cuts her off with.

“Well where’s the fun if I say your name? You two have probably already kissed 5 times this hour.” Maria Christina complains to her sister with. “Eva, I dare you to kiss Toni.” She tells you and earns a glare from Melissa.

“Which Toni?” You ask.

“Sister Toni.” She explains and you nod. You then get up and give Toni a quick kiss on her lips. You then sit back down and Melissa sits beside you with some food and water for you. You start eating the food as the game continues. The truths and dares get more scandalous as it goes on and then Melissa ends up before anyone gives you a lap dance.

You disappear on Melissa when a family member starts talking to her and she finds you with another drink and holding onto Annette for dear life.

“There you are.” Melissa says and takes you from Annette. “Sorry about that, she escaped from me.” She tells her cousin.

“That’s alright, kinda like a kid.” Annette tells her and then goes to talk to another cousin.

“Don’t go wandering off.” She tells you and you just stare at her in amazement.

“Am I in trouble?” You ask her as she leads you back to the couch with her siblings.

“You will be if you wander off again.” She tells you sternly.

“Is mommy gonna punish me?” You ask her and she quickly covers your mouth but all her siblings heard. They all have their mouths hanging open in shock before the twins and Maria Christina have giant smirks on their face.

“OH! OOOHHH!” Maria Christina exclaims.

“OH MY GOD!” Toni says.

“This is the best!” Tony adds.

“You guys have a mommy kink!” Maria Christina says loudly and Melissa glares at them.

“Keep your voices down.” Melissa scolds them.

“Why is mommy gonna punish us too?” Maria Christina teases and all her siblings laugh, even Marie.

“Seriously? All of you?” Melissa says as she throws you on the couch.

“Wee!” You say, completely unaware of what’s going on.

“It’s too funny.” John Anthony says.

“Your girlfriend keeps throwing you under the bus.” Marie Camille says as Melissa sits next to you and you wrap your arms around her.

“You’re my girlfriend, right?” You ask her and she sighs.

“At the moment that’s in question, loose lips.” She says and her siblings burst out laughing. “Oh all youse can shut it.” She scolds her siblings.

“Is mommy gonna spank us?” Kristen Marie teases and Melissa whips her head at her sister.

“Eva is definitely in trouble for this.” Melissa mumbles and then you plant kisses all over her face and then climb into her lap.

“Looks like mommy’s attention is wanted.” Seamus says and Melissa sighs loudly. Melissa puts her hands on her temples and you fall to the ground as Melissa wasn’t supporting you.

“Ow!” You say and then Melissa helps you up. You sit back on the couch with a pout, cross your arms and look away from her.

“Oh the silent treatment? Really? How mature.” Melissa says sarcastically.

“Looks like mommy is in trouble.” Tony says and all her siblings laugh again.

“Everyone shut it.” Melissa tells them all sternly. “Eva, quite it out.” She tells you.

“You pushed me.” You tell her and then quickly glare at her before turning your head back to not look at her.

“I didn’t push you, you fell by accident.” She tells you.

“Doesn’t look like she’s forgiving you.” John Anthony tells her and she sighs.

“Really? I didn’t notice.” She replies sarcastically. You then suddenly get up and try to make a run for it but the twins catch you and hold you back until Melissa grabs you and drags you back to the couch. “Where were you going?” She asks when you’re back on the couch.

“I don’t know.” You tell her and she sighs

“For fuck sake. Cazzo, you’re such an idiota right now Eva.” She tells you and you just blink while staring at her.

“You’re so sexy when you speak Italian. You tell her and straddle her lap and go to kiss her. She covers your mouth with her hand and you open your eyes to stare at her in confusion.

“Not the time or the place.” She tells you and pushes you off of her.

“Ahh!” You say as you’re sitting next to her again. “You pushed me again!” You exclaim and cross your arms.

“This time was a push, the other time you just fell off of me.” She explains to you.

“Hm.” You say and turn to look away from her.

“If you’re ignoring me then I guess you don’t want a midnight kiss to ring in the new year?” She asks you and you widen your eyes before turning to face her.

“What time is it?” You ask her and she looks at her watch.

“11:29pm.” she tells you.

“We could do something to pass the time.” You tell her as you move a hand to her leg and trace it up to the top of her thigh.

“Looks like she wants mommy to punish her.” Toni says and Melissa grabs your hand.

“Later.” She tells you and you pout.

“But I’m bored.” You complain and turn around then lean back and place your head on her lap dramatically.

“You’re acting like the kids in my class.” She says. “I’m sure if they can survive 7 hours in school 5 days a week, then you can survive 31 minutes right now.” She tells you and gently runs her fingers through your hair.

“Eva, didn’t you see that your family is Irish?” John Anthony asks you and you turn your head to look at him and nod. “Then drinking is in your blood, have some more.” He says to you and then leans close to Melissa. “It’s just water.” He says to her and hands you the cup. You drink the whole thing and then place it on the table.

“There was no flavour there.” You say to them.

“Wasn’t there? There was flavour in mine.” He tells you.

“You have pretty eyes.” You tell Melissa and her cheeks turn slightly red.

“Well thank you Mia Stellina.” She says and you lean in closer to her. “What are you doing?” She asks you.

“Looking at your eyes. They’re a beautiful green.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Well thank you but can you back away a bit so you’re not right in my face.” She tells you and then the giant tv springs to life and everyone’s attention turns to it. Teresa changes it to the New Year Eve’s celebration in New York and you watch it in amazement. One of the bands starts playing a song and you grab Melissa’s hand and pull her up off the couch.

“Let’s dance!” You exclaim to her and she laughs as you pull her to a free space and the two of you start dancing to the song.

Everyone turns to the two of you before a few other couples start dancing as well. When the song is over, half the people there are dancing and Melissa is laughing as you stumble through the entire song. She catches you everytime and she still enjoys dancing with you even though she’s catching you for half the song. Another song comes on and everyone starts dancing again and Melissa holds on to you tightly this time and leads the dance.

“Alright 1 minute to midnight!” Teresa shouts as the countdown on the tv shows 60 seconds. Some of the kids come up and your brothers move their way through the crowd to you. Melissa holds onto your waist as the excitement is building for the new year.

“My New Year’s resolution is to make every day with you count.” She tells you and you smile at her.

“That’s mine as well.” You tell her.

“Ready?” Someone exclaims and then the entire room starts counting down.

“10…9…8…7…6…5…”. Everyone shouts and Melissa turns her body towards yours and pushes you closer to her. “4…3…2…”. Melissa leans in at the last second, lips almost touching. “1!”

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imkazz · 2 days ago

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finished saiki k and i am not coping well

yeahh i get why they said theres no development until the last 2 episodes. because i have thoughts. more than i had for season 2 or season 1.

@peapodsinspace ing because this isnt from discord and i was freaking out with you real time when i was watching loll

cannot believe this is only about three episodes. how is this just three???? im just going to go in chronological order and hope for the best and barely proofread loll

the future talks. ohhh i am ill about the future talks. saiki kusuo has more pressing matters than his future and it kills me every time. because he cant focus on himsef- there is an active volcano that he has always been rewinding time for. he cannot have the time to think about university or a future career until this is all over, which is so unlike me (a normal teenager) that it makes me ill because this is what a normal teenager should be thinking about, not the fucking country that you have to save by yourself. and at least i was so happy that they were crowding around kusuos desk until they started talking about the very future that he has to save, and then i was even happier to hear that kuboyasu and hairo want to become teachers because those types of characters always kill me (despite the fact that the anime also made fun on the fact that it is a trope too) and they are both really good picks from the gang to actually become them. i also enjoyed the quiz game they did to guess kusuos college- teruhashi was the only one to get a ‘hm good guess’ out of kusuo, and his chosen places are literally ‘economics’ ‘literature’ ‘literature’ and the fact that everyone said “thats so normal”in distaste implies that they believe that kusuo could do better. and then THIS.

and the fact kusuo thinks “maybe this could go on forever…” with a smile on his face???? like my dude you are wayy too attached to them noww..

ok so it seems i might even just. be doing a paragraph per episode. now.

the robot?? i agree with what i said my first watch: WHY IS THE SAIKI FAMILY SO DEPENDANT ON GENERATIVE AI AND ROBOTS. i wasnt sure which one it would do- if it would fool all his friends or if it would be too suspicious for them. but i was dead wrong- it says ‘yare yare’ too many times and it is obviously saiki kusuo in the flesh (get it?). i was growing more concerned (and out of breath from laughing) at all the shenanigans that happened along with how kusuo attempted to get rid of it, showing a bit more of his battle iq and intelligence along with his relationships with the other psychics, through his quick strategizing along with utilising his abilities to help in specific situations, along with the relationships he has cumulated with them in order to get them to trust him and follow his word when serious times arise. not only that, but kusuke gets additional information about all of that along with us the audience because he is also a part of the audience (my brain hurts from some of this stuff).

then for the battle. i am illllllll. so. for many many episodes, we have watched kusuo try and make plans to avoid his friends in all sorts of situations. but this bit? its golden. he finds a disadvantage from not knowing what toritsuka has been doing all week, and that temporarily weakens him until he comes up with a new plan on the given information he knows and has pieced together himself, and then used it to get his body back. then not only that, he begins to fight without his limiter. and we know its hard even with the limiter!! we watched him struggle to throw balls, and then practice to ensure that he could control his strength. amazing already, but then he begins to turn a bad situation into something favourable especially with toritsuka in the mix. because both saiki brothers are smart af. even if toritsuka isnt of use, kusuke reuses him as a hostage and then when that doesnt work, himself and the limiter (all things important to kusuo). kusuo is able to put together that the bomb was fake because kusuke spoke for too long and he remembered aiuras word and trusts her power.

and then the battle plan is so smart?? kusuo is able to use his disadvantages as advantages (teleportation doesnt need the 3 minute cooldown), and then purposefully drained his strength to be able to pick up the limiter and put it back into his head without breaking it. he could read toritsukas mind and realised that he didnt actually hate kusuo (i found how this was shown as really cool too? instead of the background it was soft shapes and colours implying friendliness as it showed both of them). he made enough of a friendship with toritsuka to get him not to hate him even after being brainwashed. kusuo dragged out the battle to try and gauge what the cat tank could do. AND HES SEVENTEEN. what shocked me further was the fact that he took out the limiter. which he thought would reveal his powers to the world. sure its an asshole thing of kusuke to say/do to kusuo but he at least disabled it a long time ago. but im more focused on kusuo. he took it out. he took it out. thats HUGE. he really thought he would be letting go of normalcy and never be able to go to school without being worshipped. and he did it on his own terms. i was so happy to see how he was smiling and happy thinking about his friends too.. like kusuo was happy with the time he spent with them as a normal kid. but then he was so ready to blast them with full power after both of their comments lolll. and i also found it interesting how kusuke took off his telepathy blocker when explaining why he disabled it so that his brother could know he was telling the truth. and the fact that they moved past the fact that kusuke made a limiter that completely erases kusuos powers?!??!?! and i was confused when toritsuka and kusuo moved past it so easily but. thank fuck they revisited that tidbit???? what made me sadder was the fact that kusuo wanted it so badly, and yet couldnt. because of the volcano. it was good foreshadowing when kusuo thought ‘move forwards.. theyre right. i should clean this up quickly’ in the first part of the episode and then to have this too.. the emotional turmoil is too much. on one hand he could get rid of powers he hates and yet he still has to save the world which he has been putting on hold because he needs more power. like yeah please kill me now, especially that last interaction between toritsuka and kusuo. like yeah hes fake mad at toritsuka at first but then he has to give his genuine thanks because there was no way kusuo would have won if it was just himself, as toritsuka was a key part of the battle from his new powers to his status as a hostage to the fact he broke past the brainwashing.

and when they finally start planning that trip (callback to the first segment of episode one!!) and they decide upon the place where an active volcano has tried to blow up for four years. absolute madlads. kusuo diverted them at first but its a comedy anime too- ofc they are going to oshimai.

and everyone asking why he cant go is hillarious too.. “what plans do you have?” “im sure its nothing important!” ‘im saving the world?!’ yeahhh he has to go, because he cares. he doesnt want them to cancel what they think is their last fun time together before third year. its not because his mom forced him. its because he loves them. the cumulation of four years with these losers has made kusuo soft for them.

when they actually get to oshimai, i would have loved to watch their shenanigans. im sure they are chaos incarnate while on a play date with each other, but i really liked how the anime showed the tension that kusuo had. even as the rest of them were having lighthearted conversations, there was always a pit in my stomach as kusuo continued to refer to the mountain and was generally downcast while the group did all of those activities i would have previously have laughed at if it was not for the huge threat right there and despite the fact that kusuo looks the same as always (silent, in the background, neutral face) i felt nervous because he had said so just barely a minute ago and hadnt mentioned again. its shown through the way he allowed teruhashi to do as she pleased, how he would look at the mountain constantly, not say anything mentally to the audience.. it was offputting and really set the vibes. his face reflected in the window, with owari yama right there too? perfect way to end the segment.

i found it clever how saiki used a previous part to help him: the robot. he now knows that nobody suspects anything if he just says ‘yare yare’ and he now uses this with his hypnosis (seen in many episodes, such as s1 ep 24) to mesh together a perfect stand in (according to his friends OOF). and then he uses the clones (from s2 ep22) to help with the eruption (s2 ep13). not only that, his plan is pretty good. he has already used toritsuka as a stand in (when kusuo turned kaido and nendo into stone) and then aiura has already helped him with a previous eruption which he had to turn back time on. it was also a callback to kusuo in the previous episode: no way kusuo would have asked kusuke for help on how to solve the volcano problem if they had not cleared some things up after the fight, and no way would he have if there was no power canceller, and no way if the limiter being pulled would still tell the world about his powers. this is a big climax towards things that the plot has been working towards, and it is a mix of everything: many specific instances, his training, previous lore, character development, his friends and family, kusuos priorities, his emotional stances. they all played some sort of part in his plan to enable time to move forwards.

i was concerned to see him beat up (because looookkk hes just two years older than mee and also pretty oppp) but i was so fuckin pumped that time was moving forwards and he was also pretty happy, given the smile. and the joy immediately left. because everyone showed up, and then to show that alternate universe where things were almost the same but slightly different?? and the fact that kusuo literally told all of them about his powers because he knew he could go back in time and erase all of that? its killing me because he did that because he knew he could experiment for a reaction and then erase it as if nothing actually happened. and it really seems like theres no getting out of it right. his friends saw him, they see the clones, they see toritsuka faking as kusuo, they see the real kusuo holding the ground and preventing the eruption. theres no lying to get out of it. but the same as i thought from the shipwrecked episodes, of course saiki kusuo gets out of it. kaido realises it too and he just wants the truth because he trusts kusuo so much. its been there since the beginning, how much kaido cares about saiki and wants him to be happy because kusuo has made kaido happy, and how much kaido values their friendship. he has always wanted kusuo to remain safe and happy and to be friends with each other.. we see how the rest of them just want kusuo to tell the truth, because they will love him no matter what. and it was shown through the alternate timeline, too, how they dont care about the powers, even if they dont understand, that they know kusuo and know that he has their best interests in mind because he is their friend. and somehow its nendo who is the reasonable one, we have seen him be kind and understanding towards both kusuo and others at so many instances but it is this one that touches kusuo because nendo has always been there for him, throughout all sorts of situations. sure he is dumb, but nendos strength is not athletics. it is his kindness.

then the fact that everyone agrees with him.. theres no way this is a comedy anime. this is a slice-of-life coming-of-age angst/horror anime which has comic relief. it was shown through the alternate timeline, too, how they dont care about kusuos powers, even if they dont understand, that they know kusuo and know that he has their best interests in mind because he is their friend. and he knows that even if it is a different timeline, that they would still remain the same in the stance. so he speaks. with his mouth. its huge!! his eyes are shiny because this is absolute confirmation that they would love him even if they knew that about him, because he has given them the same treatment- he has seen a huge part of them that they dont share, and he still loves them, so the opposite is also true. ..but he cant share it yet, not until his powers are gone of course. and it makes sense, of course. if i was one of his friends, i would prefer learning about that after his powers are gone- and this is a decision he is sure about. kusuos powers have caused him so much suffering. while he has many typical teenager traits, he is all in all, incredibly different due to his enlarged responsibilities over himself and the world. sure, his powers have helped him in many situations, but for kusuo, the bad outweigh the good and this has been his ultimate goal for a very long time. while removing his powers will not get rid of the weirdness surrounding him, it will get rid of a lot of the pain and stress. and i was so fucking excited when hairo said that kusuo called everyone over- because we the audience know what will be happening. and it would definitely be for the best, as kusuo really wants to apologise for many of the things that happened because of his powers.

and then the fucking window.

then this is why im very happy for the watch order to be posted. because this cliffhanger is too much without reawakened episode 6.

i find it so funny that while kusuo has lost his powers, that he still has the ability to break the fourth wall. when asked if his delusions are the same as kaido in middle schooler syndrome, he has to reply with an “absolutely not”. i love how he is feeling the effects of losing his powers. he has relied on his powers as another limb his entire life, and they are suddenly gone. even if they are overall bad, he still used them daily and isnt used to life without it because he was forced to live with it previously, meaning that he would find some use through the disadvantages. i also really liked how while kusuo could very blatantly feel the loss, he could also appreciate the beauties of normal life. actually be able to see his friends rather than just a skeleton, probably have a peaceful sleep, any of those powers he couldnt turn off have finally done so and he has a lot less weight as a result. it is really interesting to watch him try and get out of situations he would have previously avoided using his powers, as he has to rely on his own intuition and chance rather than himself and his abilities.

but it is an anime, and god hates him, so kusuo is stuck with teruhashi on their project. he sees the disadvantages everywhere- things that normal people are used to but he is not, and it seems like good representation for disability- having something and then suddenly having it gone, so you are only left with routines that are no longer possible because you are missing a key component. and not only that, there are hinders towards kusuos journey.

he gets a fucking bookshelf toppled over onto him. huhhhhhh???? would you really go so far as to kill a kid for accidentally becoming partners with a girl for one school project?? and i was also confused until i saw nendo- in all his glory. seriously, this guy is insanely good at protecting people without a single thought beforehand (he has to get it from his dad right). and not only that, we watch toritsuka and kuboyasu against the bullies- two people insanely good at beating people up. this is a great place to show some character development- nendo gives a speech to kusuo about how even the strongest can need protecting, and it is shown with how nendo instinctively went to protect him from the bookcase and toritsuka/kuboyasu went to beat up the ones who caused it.. finally kusuo himself can get protected by his friends. because he isnt used to it in the slightest. he desperately wanted to get rid of the powers without fully realising how much he relied on them for daily life. even in dangerous situations he would subconsciously rely on powers he doesnt have anymore, and he even realises it and doubts his decision. but nendo comes in and saves it and i find that very precious and important to kusuo to realise that he doesnt always have to be the overpowered one because there are people around him who still care regardless.

but it doesnt last. he cannot even get used to having no powers because they come back only two days later. the way it was presented was pretty cool, too, with how kusuos hand made an indent into the wall from where he slammed it, to the thought bubble from kusuke. and i also thought the way the dawning horror was shown was pretty cool. the purple and blue spirals towards a terrified kusuo without his limiters or glasses, at night, while kusuke continues talking and says that kusuo has evolved past being human in order to control his powers? yeah terrifying, i felt the horror in me too. because how long had he been evolving for? if hed gotten rid of the powers faster, would it have worked? if he hadnt spent so long on the volcano, could he be normal? was he ever actually normal? was it only recently since his body had changed to adapt? because with his body, kusuo relies on his powers. it could be compared to another heart, or a limb. his body needs powers because that is what they are used to. eyes that see through skin, a brain that can hear thoughts, muscles that are used to carrying boulders.. the list goes on and it shows that he has no choice but to use powers, as his mind has always been on fixing problems using parts of him that he has always had, his own biology has been on that. yeah psychological horror much.

the fact that it doesnt work. being told to live normally and peacefully without thinking about his powers doesnt work. because kusuo is far too used to them, he doesnt even think before using them for the little things in daily life such as opening the door or pushing in his seat. its like a papercut on your finger and only then do you realise how much you use that finger all the time- he doesnt realise it until its too late. and then he continues to remain ignorant until it actually happens, such as clairvoyance and new (useless) powers forming. he is already too used to it that he uses them without realising, because that was his normal. kusuo can also realise this with his dawning terror at each thing that happens with his power, with the foreboding patterns with dark colours and his horrified face. he is trying so hard to deny it because even if there are good things that come with his powers, ultimately, they cause him suffering. but it doesnt even fucking work.

its really sad to see him accidentally use powers, as they come back swiftly. kusuo is trying so hard to deny his symptoms but there is really no use: the illness is back. he teleported home, used clairvoyance, talked using telepathy, went invisible, used psycokinesis, saw through someone.. theres too many to deny that his powers are back. but kusuke asks valid questions: did anything good happen without them? and the answer is kusuo thinking about the bookshelf incident. because there are both good and bad things from it, he had to get protected and was weakened by the fact he couldnt see it coming, but it was good to know that so many people are willing to protect him. but then theres a fucking meteor. its also a manipulative thing for kusuke to do, asking that question and then thrusting a natural disaster upon his brother going through an existential crisis. because kusuo has a choice to make. he could try and suppress the powers even further and live a normal life until the end and let kusuke deal with it as that is the path that he chose. or kusuo could accept that the powers are a part of him and that people will still love him regardless, and make the choice to save the world and possibly never live normally again. and its a shitty situation all around. a seventeen year old should not have to make such a choice.

and yet he has to. because kusuo can hear his friends pleading for help, their fear, their reactions, confusion. kusuo knows he cannot have his father do something of this scale, or let his brother do something like that to their dad. he cant let the meteor hit earth because everyone he loves is there. kusuo was always one to complain verbally(mentally) about shit he gets wrapped up in, but from the context clues and his actions throughout the series, he has shown just how much he cares and tries to help even with how much he drags his feet and complains and insults. because all kusuo wants is for his friends to be happy, and to live normally. but those two things cannot coexist, at least not for long. and then he smiled. he chooses their happiness, because that is the kind of person kusuo is. he has said that he is a psychic in so many situations and for so many reasons, but at the start and end of the series, it is the same ten words.

“so my life of peace is over, but i feel that is not so bad after all.. perhaps i like to deal with hassles after all. yare yare. my name is saiki kusuo. and i am a psychic.”

#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusou no psi nan #saiki no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki kusuo #kusuo saiki #saiki #psychic kusuo #saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #my brain cannot comprehend masterpieces #but i tried #i dumped this over 3 hours folks #i am in love if you cant tell #saiki kusuo deserves so many coffee jelly guys #my brain is mush

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agentcricket-art · 20 days ago

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gyorik rogdul if you read this im free on Thursday night and would like to hang out. Please respond to this and then hang out with me on Thursday night when I’m free

please for the love of god click for full-size! i gave him a nose piercing because it looked like jacob had one in the sketch and i think that would be fun. also this was my file name if you even care

#pov you're being an ass in the pit and now york is gonna beat your ass #gyorik rogdul #drawtectives fanart #drawtectives york #drawtectives season 3 #drawfee #jacob andrews #spoilers #drawtectives spoilers #spoilers drawtectives #fanart #when was the last time i finished a piece this quick #took maybe four hours? with a break for pumpkin pie and a phone call with mom #something about drawtectives man #i crank out some of my best work #my art #oh my god i didn't tag this with drawtectives shit #drawtectives

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meownotgood · 1 month ago

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pillars. / viktor x gn!reader, fluff and angst, lots of angst actually, implied childhood friends, confession kisses, mentions of death, one singular czech pet name, kissing viktor's moles, takes place during s1 act 2, so technically no s2 spoilers but some things are implied. word count: 7.9k

read on ao3

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"You look exhausted," You hum, your voice thick with fatigue in unison, "Don't you think you should rest?"

Viktor takes a breath deep and slow enough to hear, his hands briefly faltering as he twirls a small, bronze magnifying glass with his fingers, but he doesn't reply, nor does he turn away from his notes.

The lab is cool, quiet — aside from the distant hum of various pressure valves and idle machinery. The Hexcore thrums. Runic engravings litter each complex, geometric surface. Viktor rests his balled-up hand on his face, bony knuckles pressing into his cheek. With his inkpen, he messily scrawls something into his notebook. Low, blue light illuminates the cluttered room and his workspace. Each side of the Hexcore pulses when you approach behind him, twirling to its own complex, ominous rhythm. Acknowledging you, somewhat.

Viktor inhales sharply, and shakes his head frustratedly, crossing out what he'd just written with jittery, forceful motions.

It wouldn't be the first time you've found him here, like this, mulling over some sort of invention or idea when most of the city is already asleep. Falling into a focused routine is merely second nature. And normally, you wouldn't protest.

When you were much, much younger, staying awake as long as you could felt fun. Helping Viktor cram studying for exams in between finishing an invention the night before Progress Day became a yearly occurrence. In the weeks before finalizing blueprints for the Hexgates, you'd almost forgotten when either of you had last seen the sun. It's just that this routine has been far more absorbing, far more taxing — and the repercussions are painted clearly on Viktor's shadowed face.

He looks drained. Worn. Like if he tried to stand, if he wasn't leaning against his desk and absorbed in his research, the weight of his own exhaustion might make him crumble and collapse. The ends of his hair stick out in messy, curled strands, from where he's anxiously twirled them around his fingers.

You hate the dark bags that have made their home under his eyes. You feel a knot in your gut as you watch Viktor's hands; shaky, and imprecise. Flipping through the pages of his notebook to search for something. Tracing a sentence with the end of his inkpen, only for his gaze to flicker back to the start when the words failed to register.

You sigh. Forcing a smile, even though he can't see it, you take another stumbling step forwards. Your arms wrap around his thin figure loosely, and your weight settles gently yet firmly against his hunched back, in something of a tender, evocative hug.

Viktor shifts, his grip tightens on his pen when it almost slips. You nuzzle into the perfect, head-shaped space at the crook of his neck, breathing him in — flooding your senses with a coffee-warm richness, with the scent of ash and sweat and lingering sparks.

His gaze softens like melted honey. As if the simple press of your body to his returned pieces to himself he'd thought he lost. Brows unpinching, your heat at his neck spreads across him in waves, contradicting the collected edge kept in his tone.

"I'm not yet tired," Viktor lies, trying his hardest not to lean into your embrace. "I'd like to analyze this for a few moments longer. This page is," He shakes his head. "Incomplete. If I could find the key to what induces some form of response, then-"

As if on queue, the Hexcore sparks with energy, twirling faster, glowing with luminous constellations. Viktor swiftly moves to jot something down, but as fast as the Hexcore reacted, it's just as quick to return to normalcy.

He mutters something under his breath, slightly jostling you from his shoulders when he leans forwards in focus.

"I swear," You're grumbling; you rest your chin on the hard edge of his shoulder, glancing between the Hexcore and his notes with passive interest. "You've always been like this."

"Like what?" Viktor flips through his notebook once more. "Stubborn, I'm assuming?"

"Stubborn, yes. Smart. Terribly ambitious." You reach up, until you're able to place a few taps onto his forehead with the end of your finger. Viktor barely seems to notice. He adds onto an almost-full page by messily writing in the margins.

"I know how hard it is for you to stop those gears in that brain of yours. Once they're going, it's impossible to get them to stop."

"Mm. And you know how important this pursuit is in particular, yes?"

He reaches for a notched turn dial on the opposite side of his desk, connected to the Hexcore by a series of braided wires and support poles. Your gaze follows his hands — gripping carefully, with delicate, calloused fingers. There's a distinct pause. A moment of palpable tension, as you both instinctively hold your breath.

Viktor twists the dial. Once, twice.

The Hexcore gives off a few miniscule, pitiful sparks, like a God's first attempt at a lightning storm. And he expels a long, drowsy, disappointed sigh.

"I do," You murmur, sympathetic.

Viktor grinds his jaw, hard enough to feel it aching, but even through his fierce familiarity with self-induced destruction, even though he isn't deserving of this, he can't hope to hold onto the ragged bites of stress in his veins. Not when you're so warm, when the feeling you ignite in his chest with your voice alone is so terribly soft. He has missed this.

"But I also know," You're continuing, "Every time you get close to a breakthrough, once you let yourself rest," Viktor's head nods sleepily, struggling not to fall, and you playfully tap your index finger to the end of his nose.

"That's when you find it."

Part of him wishes he could keep himself from listening. Of course, as strongly as he wants to be better and more efficient, because taking a break is like admitting defeat, and defeat is worse than accepting he might've reached the end of his line — he knows you're right.

Placing the cap on his pen, he leaves it in the middle of his notebook, closes the pages to save his spot before hastily, reluctantly pushing it aside.

You grin. You slowly shift up, and Viktor feels your arms sliding from his shoulders, your weight leaving his body. For a second, he thinks you might move, believes you'll leave and feels a sharp grind between his ribs at the thought. Instead, you place your palms on his rigid shoulders, and you squeeze.

His lashes flutter, eyes partially rolling into his skull. His head grows dizzy, like he'd been spun. Frustration melts out of him as warmth and light take its place, shining from your touch like the kiss of stars and the rays of the sun. Bright and lovely; galaxies weaving themselves into his tired muscles.

Relaxing, he can't help but lean back, dropping his head against your waiting chest.

"I saw Jayce before I left this morning," You're murmuring. It's in one ear, and out the other at first. You lean in, speaking close to him this time, to make sure you've been heard. Your voice shudders through him, warm like candle wax. "Says he hasn't seen you sleep in days."

"In one day," Viktor corrects, rather matter-of-fact for someone who's busy melting into you like his limbs are boneless. "Technically, about twenty- no, twenty two hours. More or less. Honestly… hardly worth the over-exaggeration."

"Vik," You scoff playfully, breath fanning warmly on his skin. "You're doing it again."

Your palms move. They drift from his shoulders to his arms, fingertips gently toying with his sleeves in a foolish attempt to touch his skin. He tilts his head all the way back, and cracks his weary eyes open to look at you.

"And what is it I'm doing?"

"Saying things that make me worry about you. And then expecting me not to."

"I am not-"

Right then, before he can speak, your hands return to his now-tensed shoulders; they combat the ache in his chest and the tightness in his throat when they roll his muscles. His chest thrums with a soothing gentleness, rich and saccharine, difficult to swallow down.

"You are worried about me?" Viktor questions, sighing slightly when your hands work out a particularly old, tightened knot. "I have not seen you in… who knows how many days. I have lost count."

Your mouth forms a hard line.

"I- I know," You're answering, hands drifting down smoothly, as if they're carried on waves. They find where his tie is neatly fastened around his collar, grasping the diamond and pulling to loosen it. "I've been trying not to get in your way. Everything is just- Jayce is a counselor now, and you're busy with a thousand different things. I'm not going to interrupt your work with my stupid-"

"Our work." Viktor's tone is resolute. It holds you, grounds you against the raging winds in your mind that threaten to pull at your pieces. "Hextech was furthered by your contributions. Do not forget that."

You swallow, but it does little to chase away the dryness in your throat. In a hasty, abrupt motion, your palm grasps Viktor's shoulder, this time twisting his chair to make him face you. He eyes you with surprise for a moment, his tired gaze tender and weak enough to light the shrapnel in your stomach.

"Viktor." Your head tilts, affectionate. You reach up, and brush away the messy strands of hair that cover his pretty face and tickle his forehead. "This research, this dream of yours, it's-"

"It is a necessary risk."

Gaze wide, you freeze up. Viktor exhales sharply, glances away from you to focus on something in the distance instead — messy shelves of discarded machinery, inventions you once worked on together, etched with your signature and his — because the way you're looking at him has an ache prodding at his heart, sharp and thorned.

"Finalizing this thesis would simply be the beginning," Viktor continues, passionate, gradually starting to talk with his hands. "Think of the lives we could save, of the good we could prosper from this sort of technology. Enough to improve the Undercity for the better, to provide rationale for the potential dangers. I understand you are worried- but this is our life's work we are talking about. If we were to determine the true limits of Hextech, it would make our efforts worth it, in spite of… even if…"

He stops, trails off. Glances up, and decides he might've said too much. You understand. You have always understood where all of this is going.

The lives he could change would be worth the price, even if he was to throw away his.

Tattered threads tear from within you — unspoken, buried deep. You've become well acquainted with the taste of denial. Sharp on your tongue, thick in your throat to meld with the bile. It sits on your lips as words better left unspoken. Eats away at your skin and your flesh and your core, settles in your limbs and at the tips of your useless fingers. Reverberates, until the ringing in your ears begins to sound like him.

Piltover feels so distant, with the idle noise of the lab filling the room. Miles away, even though you're right in its heart. Nothing has ever been fair. It cast you aside, it was never your home. He was.

All you've received for ages now are fake sentiments, vague reassurances. Reminders of how terribly futile your ambitions have proven to be. Every sun has to set, every star will burn out — but fuck, you don't want him to burn.

Your mind is dizzy. Each thought spins, tipped faster and faster. Light pounds from behind your eyelids, and your stomach churns, making you nauseous. The lines blur between Viktor's figure, the floor, and the dull aura of the Hexcore, beginning to overlap everything together.

You aren't present, or perhaps you're wishing to be anywhere but here. Curled beneath the covers, hiding under your bed like you did when you were a child, running to the furthest, broken edge of the universe so you wouldn't have to imagine him slipping through your fingertips; Viktor draws you back, grasping your chin oh-so gently. He tilts you towards him, puts your focus on him to push the rest of the world into the background.

"Though, I suppose there is no harm in stopping for the night," Viktor reasons, his tone a soft murmur, devastatingly gentle. "I have missed you. I believe I may have neglected to make myself clear."

And for a brief reprieve, there isn't anything sweeter. Nothing this fatal.

His arm braces behind him, elbow resting on the edge of the desk. You follow through when he gently keeps you in place, steady on his direction; you're a compass, and he's Polaris. Your gazes don't separate, magnetized together like a hex crystal to iron.

For a moment, he forms a small pout, in a way that would have you grinning if the circumstances were different. His expression ripens, becomes soft. Almost guilty. A plea and an apology and some form of a confession, muddled into one dangerous, indecipherable nebula.

"You sure?" You're muttering, trying to keep your tone upbeat, regardless. "Your project looks like it's itching to fly away."

"Eh," Viktor shrugs, he allows his thumb to brush over your cheek. "I'm sure it can wait. It understands I have more important things to focus on."

His touch makes you ache. Guides your sorrow to entwine with his, digs in deep to grasp at your chest with such devastating familiarity.

It's an excruciating reminder of how much you have craved this. How badly it hurts, to feel Viktor's hand tremble as he touches you, slightly unsure, when you wish he wouldn't be. Exhaustion is wound so deeply into his system, you'd think he was born with it. He brushes his palm from your cheek to your jaw, caressing idly, in an absent, lazy motion. And it frustrates you, because you know you'll soon be lost, wishing you could feel his touch again.

Every pound of your heart reminds you of everything — of the brushes of fingers, when passing tools and pens at the work table. Hands solidly grabbing one another to steady anxieties, to offer familiar reminders. Nights spent categorizing constellations, while in your eyes, Viktor's radiance burned brighter than any distant galaxy.

Gentle touches pressed to weary limbs. Tightening machinery, releasing the gears on a brace. An arm offered to help him stand. Instinctually standing beside him, at the side that might need you. Fingertips exploring the notches of a spine, traveling rivers of veins, mapping out star-shaped clusters of freckles.

Tired moments much like this, but instead of protests and strives against fate, there were lovely brushes of whispers. Twin dips in the same bed, murmurs of, I'm here, you can go back to sleep. Touches that wished for themselves to be something more, something lasting. Though they knew they'd evaporate by morning.

It's far too late to still rely on daydreams.

You let the haze die out, tracing the edges of his hard knuckles as an apology before you clumsily push his hand from your cheek. Standing up straight, the lab seeming more cold and quiet and empty than ever, you choose to put distance in between yourself, and your lost love.

"Sorry. I shouldn't-" Breathe, you've got to remind yourself to breathe. Air catches in your lungs, sharp and dizzy, and you quickly shake your head. "Viktor, I-"

Gods, Viktor shouldn't have to choose between you and his ambition. He shouldn't need to place his own body in the middle of making a difference, and saving himself. There's still so much you haven't done, haven't said. The life you both dreamed of and fought for is crumbling, he still has so much he was meant to accomplish, and yet —

A hand grabs your wrist with surprising force, to keep you from taking another step back.

Viktor's brows pinch. "Do not tell me you're thinking of leaving."

Oh. Your gaze finally travels up from your feet, and he looks hurt; his voice barely manages to avoid cracking around the edges. His fingers dig into your wrist sharply, desperately.

Viktor's jaw tightens, his firm grip causing veins to show in his wrist. Your shoulders slump, and you exhale.

"I'll walk home with you. You shouldn't sleep here, it's bad for your-"

"No, no you will not," Viktor interrupts, exasperation echoed through his tone, pain and worry laced through the lines of his palms to compel them to shake. "Tell me why you are refusing to stay. It's been weeks without change, why must you run off the moment I attempt to make time for you? I doubt you have any idea how much this torments me."

Weeks of avoidance, days upon days where he'd watch you disappear too soon. Viktor would turn, he'd say something to the empty air because he expected you to be there, but you would be gone, absent from the lab or the hallways or the dorm you once shared. Bitter sentimentality, the hurt you forgot to take with you, is all that would linger in his bones.

Just how far are you willing to run — in vain, until your legs might snap — to pretend you won't lose the only thing you have left, your friend, your partner, to imagine you might escape the certainty of his conclusion?

Your gaze is flighty. It carries raindrops, flutters on soft wings, between him and the intricate, statuette angles of his face. Between the ground and the desk, and the glowing Hexcore. He has rarely seen you so unsettled. When your emotions run high, you hide them from him; unsuccessfully, he might add. Your wrist flexes beneath his palm as he feels your hand clench, and unclench.

Little by little, you're tugging his heart from between his ribs. Tearing it apart like petals pulled, like the games you used to get lost in when you both were kids; you love him, you love him not —

"I can't stay. I wasn't- I shouldn't have tried to come back to the lab in the first place," You answer, dejected. His grip only tightens on your wrist when you pull. "Viktor, please."

"Answer me. I need you to say something," Viktor grits out, voice getting louder, his shoulders tensed with frustration. "What is the cause of this- this fracture in between us?"

Your arm drops. Your bottom lip quivers, and your breath gets caught in your lungs. The expression on your face is more sore than he's ever seen it, painful enough to kill, bordering on bursting into tears.

And then, your voice quiets. "I don't want to watch you die."

The Hexcore gives off a low, rumbling sound. The lab becomes quiet enough to hear the individual ticks of machinery gears.

Viktor's grip loosens on your wrist, only slightly. He doesn't speak, he can't listen to his heart or his head when he's placed between the persistent thrumming of both. You aren't looking at him. Regret dawns on your face, then sadness, then something he can't recognize when you turn your head away. Fatigue curls into his system, and settles amongst everything else: the guilt, the anticipation. The raw, forceful tenderness.

It's a reminder that you're right.

The passing of each slow second seems to exist for just the two of you. Dragging on and on. Barely helping him to find any answers. If only there was more time.

Words could never be enough, burying your emotions like lodging a knife way deep in your chest isn't working. Your partner was made to burn bright, to exist as an act of defiance itself. To dedicate his mind and his body and his bruised hands to progress, no matter the obstacles or limitations, the past grievances or untold emotions.

So many moments were never adequately spent. Days and weeks across years taunted you, moments spent as friends and colleagues, despite half of you belonging to him.

You just needed one push, one thrust into the light to stop you from holding back, because you knew you risked ruining everything. But if Viktor continues, if the Hexcore grows more and more dangerous, if the council continues to require more of him, and what you haven't spoken about becomes true — there won't be anything left to ruin.

And as he watches you collapse, firm on the outside but weak on the inside, turning back to him because you have to, not because you want to, Viktor finally understands.

He knows this body is… wilting.

Decaying; he can feel every ounce of newfound weakness in his limbs, knows he's a servant to his own existence as it waits for him to waste away. Many from the Undercity are much less fortunate. He is grateful you are stronger than him.

More pressingly, he is acutely, abruptly aware of how little time he's spent with you — it runs as fierce in his chest as the hourglass-shaped reminders of the short span he has left. You used to be inseparable, you shared the same dreams. Your talks weren't limited to melancholy utterances of, Have you eaten yet? and, Is your leg okay? and, I never see you anymore, will this time be the last?

How he's chosen to treat himself are small deaths, in a way. Promises to join you later that led to nothing, nights of exhaustion framed by mornings of fading in and out. He's followed his own guide to avoidance, the steps were simply laid out differently. He's grown sick of it, truly. And deep down, or perhaps on the surface, he is so, terribly exhausted.

Swallowing thickly, you remain frozen in place, waiting for him to give up, for his hand to slip from your wrist. When it does, you continue to linger. Your heart pounds loud in your ears. Little glances at him greet you with his face downcast, his shoulders slumped.

You sigh — and you decide this can't be it, or perhaps you're just not ready. You draw yourself dangerously close, to trail your knuckles down Viktor's sharp jaw as a weak apology.

If there's one thing he isn't accustomed to, it's throwing logic to the wind. Viktor tries to think of this like his notes, attempts to categorize and interpret these emotions. He imagines there's diagrams and logs in his own swirly handwriting, outlines that would guide him to precisely what he needs to do.

None of it works, of course. It's a terribly juvenile line of thinking. And he's rarely one to give into impulsivity, but you make it so difficult to think, to focus.

His breathing is already quickening and sharpening, creating pockets of light in his weak lungs, even through the reminders of his own mortality's shadow. Nothing is more important than the feeling you cradle in his chest, bright and fate-defying.

It would not be like him to accept this. To fade out with a hundred contributions unfinished, a thousand words unspoken. Confessions meant to fall from his voice like meteor showers, fears and regrets with no way to form on his tongue. The thought alone leaves him troubled, choked. His jaw tightens in frustration, only relaxing when the ghost of your fingertips guides him to.

Low light frames you, the features of your face troubled; oh, he can hardly remember the last time he's seen your smile. But he remembers, knows it to be beautiful. The slight softening his gaze undergoes as it flickers across you is utterly familiar — you pointed it out, once.

Your eyes overfill with warmth, they melt like amber. Your pupils widen like big, lovesick moons. His head can't help but spin; there's so much he never realized, when you did.

His hands like to absently search for something to fiddle with when he needs to think. His fingers have a habit of tapping against something methodically: his desk, the spine of his notebook, his own forehead. The mark above his mouth follows his lips, when they tip into a smile. He's doing it now, surely. Softening in your afterimage. Gaze warm, honeyed, hopeful.

No, he isn't sure if his fate can be changed; he's treading close, but he isn't dying yet. The Hexcore is unresponsive to every stimulus he's attempted, but his research is far from complete. There are mountains of quandaries he isn't sure he can fix, pitfalls remaining just out of his control. All but one, all but this. This is something he could do, something he can change.

You almost speak. Almost give some useless, parting words when his tired, gentle eyes drift back to yours, two ships on the same sea. He's inquisitive, hesitant, his brows creased together in thought and with conviction. The mere sight of him — hair a mess, skin pallid, ignites a thousand feelings and worries in your gut; a lighter tossed to a puddle of gasoline.

It's something Viktor picks up on.

You look pained. Unsure of yourself, from the way your eyes can't quite meet his own, from how your hand slips away from his cheek, as everything in you threatens to disappear. Weary, as you gaze at him like you've already lost him.

You've forgotten how to read him, he realizes. Caught up on what you might lose, the both of you have forgotten what you could have. Viktor's heart feels like it might burst, with enough force to make the sun's implosion look weak, and you don't understand, he'd have to show you.

He takes it as a sign. Grasps the last chance you've extended to him, and runs with it as fast as he can.

His name dies on your mouth, before you have the chance to speak it. Echoes haunt your soul when his palm finds your cheek, solid, sure; Viktor pulls you in hard, threads of distance easily closed, and he presses his lips to yours with an intensity that feels vividly visceral.

It won't fix what's already been done. This isn't a promise, falling short between being reassurance and becoming a goodbye. It isn't the way he would want to confess, if fate was kind enough to give him a choice.

But Gods, logic and reason, worry and mortality are all melting into nothing. Fading and fizzing into the sky, budding and beginning anew in his lungs — because for so long, he has needed this, needed you. As fiercely as dead parchment longs to be burned.

Your body immediately goes tense in surprise. Your arms awkwardly hover in place, until Viktor's head tilts, following the gentle aria, his palm brushing from your jaw to your cheek to hold you close — as though you're still prone to vanishing, if he were to let go. Like this is the beginning of too many firsts, and even more lasts. This kiss is worthy of savoring.

So, you do. You let your eyes flutter closed. You shift forwards with a shaky step, practically stumbling into him.

It's sweeter than you ever could have pictured. The subtle roughness to his chapped lips. The slight tickle of his breath, when you pull apart for long enough to hesitate, but not enough to gain the wisdom to stop.

Soft kisses draw you further, closer. A hand holds his cheek, a palm braces to his shoulder. Careful to use little force, to avoid any accidental hurt.

Viktor follows, leans back, has you bending closer as you get caught in his butterfly effect; blue light bathes you, and the Hexcore shifts, utterly radiant. There's a moment of separation, a brief second where your eyes barely get to flutter open. A pause that promises to be your last opportunity for regret. Greedy and urgent, brutally eager, Viktor drags you back in, keeping you caught in his penumbra. Coaxing you to cage him in — to kiss him like you mean it.

The taste of you is vivid, perfect, intense, rich; you make charged electricity glitter down his spine when your fingers curl into the soft, chestnut tresses of his hair. Grasping, pulling, leaving it even messier than it already was before.

Your lips part, your breath forms an intoxicating meld with his. And he is only foolishly, stupidly human. Made of flesh and bright dreams, etched with soft skin and fervent desires. Too weak, desperate, and caught in your echo to contemplate anything but the way his own name sounds — the V is a soft vibration, the completion of the consonants makes it sound like reverence — when it's breathed into his mouth.

Hazily, he feels your palm press, shoving gently to his chest, pushing his back against the desk in a clumsy effort to bring yourself closer. His chair shifts slightly from the movement, rusted wheels grating the tile. Your palm finds its place between his lower back and the desk's firm edge, bracing some of his weight, and acting as a buffer, keeping him from pressing against it.

Viktor melts underneath you, breathes a soft noise into your mouth that begs you not to stop — as if you could. As if you haven't wanted this in an unquantifiable amount of ways, across an infinitum of discarded daydreams. You're left to steal gasps in between, clinging onto quickened sighs that rival the struggle of keeping your head above water, as wild waves crash over your skull.

Out of breath, he blindly fumbles to find your shoulder; pushes gently, silently asks you for a moment of reprieve.

You draw back immediately. You're unable to stop yourself from shuddering when he softly breathes your name. Familiar accent curling around the syllables, giving them life and importance like your name was made for him to say. To whisper, to covet, to plead.

"Lásko," Viktor coos, as his eyes grow heavy. Glinting, with a spark of zeal that tells you to stop holding back.

You're well acquainted with the warm, softhearted nickname. You know it to be something Viktor taught you himself, between gentle explorations of the few things you didn't already know about one another, when your late-night curiosity and desire to learn led you to, Oh, and what name would you use for someone special?

His jaw grits; his next words, murmured in his mother tongue, resemble a sharp, possessive swear. His head tilts with yours when you lean closer — but you shift, falling in to let your lips find his neck.

The kisses you place there are hurried, desperate; like rays of light, as if you don't have time. Obediently, he stifles a whimper, and allows his head to fall back. It leaves plenty of room for your wandering hands to crinkle and press aside his shirt collar, and you place your lips on the firm, jutting curve of his collarbone.

You find the twin moles on his neck tendon, blessing a kiss there, near desperate enough to bruise. You follow them like a treasure map, to kiss the perfectly-placed mole above his mouth. Your palms cup his face faintly. Then, you sweetly kiss the mark on his opposite cheek, your lips warm, laced with fervent sparks.

Viktor shudders, he feels lighting race up his spine and split him open like a scythe. He's been avoiding his own declining reflection for weeks upon months now, but he doesn't need to remember much of himself to still know exactly where you're kissing, like the back of his hand.

The ghost of your lips just above his mouth, and then to the apple of his cheek send a thick, syrup-sweet realization reeling through him. His moles. It reminds him of fingertips playfully tapping his face. Of soft comments and pretty compliments, portraits of his own image that he'd never forgotten because they were from you.

When you hear the hitch in his breath, he swears he feels you smile against him. He's certain, once you shift back down to his neck, to repeat the process all over again. Placing messy kisses onto his soft skin, worshiping the intricacies he would've never thought were admirable. Memorizing each placement as though it's deliberate, like making a map of the night sky's constellations. And Viktor swallows, shakes, softens.

Blindly, you search for where his hand has been kept at your side. You grasp it, and pursue the natural interlacing of fingers: yours fitting perfectly between the gaps of his.

Trying not to shudder, failing when your breath fans against the right-angle corner of his jaw, he guides his free hand to trace the small of your back. His fingertips are gentle, hesitant. Careful brushes akin to a study, an exploration.

With a dizzy mind and even more muddled thoughts, he doesn't expect when you support your weight by placing your knee on his stool, between his legs — when you lean in close and fast and hard, crashing your lips against his once more. One kiss isn't enough, so you kiss him again; you let yourself be pulled in on his current, and he forgoes breathing to drink you in instead.

Your body arches into his touch, curves when his palm presses flat to your back, attempting to feel as much of you as possible. You want to be pliable beneath his warm hands like clay, because at least being molded would leave an imprint. You'd have something to remember what this meant, what his touch felt like.

Seconds and minutes bleed into one another. You can barely tell where he begins, and you end. Two halves of the same anatomy, you can feel the thrum of his inherent light beneath your breastbone.

The Hexcore watches. Pulses, hard enough to make pens begin to roll across the desk. To topple a precarious stack of diagrams, which sends a few papers fluttering to the ground, to make the steel marbles of a Newton's cradle clumsily clink together.

Neither of you notice. The response Viktor's been searching for spikes just beyond his reach. You make him feel weightless, as though the fragility of his own vessel is more of an afterthought, until he could be ripped into fragments and you would be there to put him back together. Viktor's palm holds the back of your neck, his head tilts with yours, and you kiss. Falling into one another, only unfalling to breathe. Your atoms melt into his particles, blossoming a blur between your two shapes. Your heart pounds with his, to a rhythm so exact they could be mistaken for the same singular beat.

Finally pulling away requires a mountain's worth of strength and effort. You only do so because you've got Viktor's back pressed hard against the desk, and he's practically about to fall off his chair.

You both needed to breathe. It takes several moments for your head to stop spinning. You can barely focus on anything, but the bruising of your lips and the skip of your heartbeat. Stumbling back, sliding from his chair to offer him more room, you cup his jaw in both palms. Soft and blissfully tender, as though this is what they were made to hold.

Viktor sighs hard, gasping heavily. His skin is slightly flushed, still warm to the touch. His gaze stays on you, basking in your afterglow. You're used to him flinching away. A slight hesitation always laces through his fingers when you try to grab his hand. His muscles tense on instinct whenever your arm wraps around him, braced to help support his weight.

But this time, your palms hold his face, your thumbs brush his skin, and he melts into your touch, unburdened. Gaze fluttery, expression relaxed. Giving in at last, after countless ages of starvation.

The low light of the lab, and the soft glow of the Hexcore's rune matrix — quiet, now — frame his face in outlines of shadow and hues of cerulean. Shades of blue meld with the honeycomb of his eyes, dulling the color. Clouds over a fading sun.

He hears the slight shake in your breath first, before he feels a tiny droplet hit his cheek; and you're leaning forward, trying to hide. Eyes shut tight, as you rest your forehead against his.

"Sorry, I-" Viktor murmurs, weak and faint. So quiet, you almost fail to hear. "I know this does not… fix things."

Oh. He hasn't seen you cry since you were both kids.

Viktor remembers clumsily trying to comfort you, making a crude somewhat-flower-pinwheel out of scrap metal as a gift, because he thought it wouldn't fix everything, but it might make things a little bit easier. For a time, anyway.

Reality is often a cold, cruel overseer. Remembering how to breathe again brings sharp pain into his lungs, it returns an ache to his tired shoulders and his strained leg. His vision comes back into focus, his future returns to taunt him but this time, something is different.

He feels a spark. A newfound wave of ambition. The radiant golden hour, before a bright, final breakthrough.

"It's fine," You breathe, weak and fragile, with a meager shrug of your shoulders that says you are anything but. "I didn't expect it to."

Viktor grasps your chin, gently shifting you back to give him space to look at you. His thumb brushes a stray droplet from your cheek. He tuts: a soft, teasing, tch sound. "Ah, but for a time, the world nearly felt miles away. Did it not?"

His gaze is hopeful, almost nervous. Trying to gauge any slight shift in your reaction. Thankfully, his voice seems to swiftly bring you back to life. You laugh a bit, wiping the remainder of tears away with the back of your hand; there's the smile he's always admired.

"Like we were melting into each other," You admit, a little shy, tenderly wistful. Your heart unfurls in your chest like a bright, pretty blossom. It's fitting for the both of you to recollect, to try and analyze the intricacies of every situation. "It was…"

You're pausing, trying to find the right description, as you rest your arms around his shoulders in something of a half-hug. It was lovely? Captivating? Addicting?

You shake your head. You're glancing away, because even remembering kissing him is enough to make your heart pound, enough to tempt you to pull him in again. Viktor tilts you back towards him, his finger lightly tapping your jaw.

"Hm- Breathtaking?" He muses, "Better than you could have dreamed?"

The brief lilt of confidence he embodies, words smooth as they're carried on his accent, pleasantly reminds you of when he was younger. Far too composed, and eager to prove himself. He follows it through, coaxing you forwards with a palm to your side. You're gentle; most of your weight, you support yourself, until Viktor pulls you down, patiently and decidedly guiding you to settle against his lap.

"You know," You're cooing, head tilted, "That sounds an awful lot like a confession."

You can see each subtle heave of Viktor's chest, expanding with every long breath he takes in. It's a tight fit. His stool is barely wide enough to accommodate himself, let alone you. His brace presses into the back of your leg just slightly: jutting metal, protruding bolts. The spread of his thighs leaves you with a small amount of space, but still forces your body to press awfully close to his.

You're in the perfect position to witness every detail of his face. His tired eyes, the curve of his jaw, the slant of his nose. His thick brows pinch slightly, forming a faux pout, and you reach up. You brush your thumb from his temple to his brow, relishing in the instant softening of his expression.

"Perhaps it is one. Or, actually-" Viktor hums, inquisitive. "It contains the potential to be one, if I decided to elaborate."

"Oh? Enlighten me."

A pause. Viktor bites the inside of his cheek as he ruminates, and your fingertips push fluffy strands of hair from his face to tuck behind his ears.

"For so long, I… ached to be close to you." His tone is calm, temperate. It twists a shiver up your spine, cool and heaven-sent. His palm trails and caresses your face; a lesson in restraint, as he tries to stop himself from pulling you in once more. "It was a pipe dream. I assumed I was… too late."

"I thought- I was sure you didn't-" Your shoulders grow tense and the bridge of your nose knots up, you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger and pull it away to admire the resounding curl. "Since when?"

Viktor exhales. "We have been effectively inseparable since the day we met, I am certain you still remember when the Undercity kids would laugh and- and make jabs at my obvious crush. But, you are searching for something specific. In that case, there is one instance."

This time, you don't have to ask him to elaborate.

A palm tracing down the column of your neck, idle yet admiring, Viktor takes one more steady, deep breath. "It was the Progress Day after we had finalized the Hexgates. The council's afterparty was… stifling. I was fortunate to have convinced you to attend. You wore such gorgeous attire. Jayce commented, stated I was unable to take my eyes off of you. I denied it. In hindsight, it was more than obvious."

The party was hardly your usual scene. Viktor was always the one who wound up convincing you to attend every Progress Day.

He'd mention you should vouch for your contributions, try to mingle. You were fine with dressing up for an hour or two, but all of the drinking and fraternizing — you found the presentations about new technology to be interesting, but everything to happen afterwards was tiring, to put it bluntly.

The occasion then was more special than most, though. There was a difference in the way Viktor asked you, sounding hopeful and stress-bound. It seemed important to him, and so it was doubly precious to you.

"I joined you on the balcony, once I was able to shake the flocks of investors." Viktor continues, thinking, thumbing through all of the details, "You'd been saving a cocktail for me all night, if you remember. Something made with rum- apple cider, I believe."

Viktor recalls overhearing several of your conversations. Your excitement to show off what you invented together was palpable. You made the room shine, he thinks. He watched you go on and on, when you thought he wasn't listening, assuming he was busy with his own consultations. Viktor zoned out of them, truly. Once the day's festivities are over, the rich folk of Piltover are more interested in finances than progress.

Your words were so kind. Viktor is amazing, have you met him yet? Every sponsor and socialite would know your partner to be intelligent, inventive, incredible. He doesn't compare. It's funny, how Viktor saw the same qualities in you.

For most of the night, you were separated; Viktor was busy with the swarm of fancy patrons, all of Piltover's finest hoping to get the latest gossip on what the partner to the Man of Progress would come up with next. Luckily, the both of you chose the same hideaway to try and escape the crowd.

"I had been waiting for such a moment- to speak with you. You offered me your congratulations. Complimented me, on my performance of the short speech you helped me to memorize. And… so clearly, I remember you said, 'I'm so proud, Viktor. But I knew you could do this.'"

I knew you could. No underestimations, never a doubt in his potential. You believed in him, even when no-one else did. When there weren't eager investors and a fawning council, just you and him, the suffocating smog of the Undercity, and his foolish dreams. Within the gaps in between, your praises sung as loud, unbidden, echoing strums.

He supposes he's going to have to ask again for your faith, just one more time.

Viktor's gaze stays focused down, for a moment. Contemplative, emotional.

"I almost kissed you right then." He glances up to you, finally. "But-" He hums, then sighs, "There were benefactors still lingering just beyond the balcony, some of which already decided to inquire extensively about my personal life. I would have hated for our first kiss to incite such a scene."

Viktor admires the tender kindling of gentleness on your face. Slightly pained, despite the hints of softness. It's his cue to find your cheek, to hold you close and oh-so softly like he did from the start; the cliff before the waterfall, his first step in to drown with you.

Nothing will ever return to simplicity. But Viktor refuses to regret this, decides he should face it head on. Every building conflict, these budding emotions, the remnants of how your lips felt on his; tenderly unforgettable, a crucial step that he refuses to forget.

You can feel the slight tremble to his fingers, the calluses on his palm —

"Vik-"

"I need to have your trust."

Your eyes widen.

"Viktor," You're starting again, "You already do- you always have. I don't want you to hesitate, you can-"

"No, no, the Hexcore," Viktor corrects. He takes a quick glance between you, and the shifting runes of his project's surface. Glowing and fluctuating, a marvel even when it is dormant. "There is much I have not yet told the council. Nor Jayce, nor you."

A newfound flicker of conviction blazes behind his sun-bound eyes. A brightened enthusiasm to solve any puzzle he's presented with, a key twisted into a door that he never thought would open.

Your gaze is curious, attentive, then clearly conflicted, and he feels his jaw start to tighten. In spite, he continues, speaks with his entire chest, even though his hands tremor at the thought, and his voice is much too soft and broken and he hates the sound it makes when it's breaking —

"You are the one thing I cannot lose." Viktor holds your face lovingly, captures you in a statue-like state of devotion, as he fights against the gnawing roughness at the back of his throat. "I believe I can solve this, but I need to know that to any end, you will follow. Please."

It's something he's already sure of, against the faint threads of doubt in his mind. Of course you would, if he was the one to ask. The both of you are knit together as endlessly as the lines that connect the constellations, he just needs to hear you say it.

You offer him a weakened smile, your touch brushing the curve of his face like fingertips would caress the arch of a flower's petal. "Do what you think is right. I trust you."

Viktor softens.

There's bittersweet catharsis in finally admitting the truth, along with an endless chasm threatening to swallow him whole — and for now, for the rest of the night, at least, he wants nothing more than to fall in with you.

"My love," He murmurs; he draws you close, with the pull of the sea to the moon. He dares to press one more faint kiss to your cheek, despite knowing how infinitely difficult it will be to pull away. "My inspiration," A kiss to the opposite cheek, then. "My little spark."

The lab remains quiet, dark, save for the low hum, and the glowing orbit of the Hexcore. Viktor leans his head against your chest, relaxes further once you begin gently toying with his hair. And finally, fully, he allows his heavy eyes to close.

#viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor arcane

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kentopedia · 8 months ago

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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold.

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity.

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants.

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards.

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding.

he can feel the man swallowing.

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well.

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand.

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you.

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity.

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you.

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them.

limply, they fall to the floor.

chuuya rushes over to you.

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it.

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing.

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?”

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?”

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either.

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.”

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.”

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones.

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.”

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.”

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later.

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.”

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off.

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him.

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage.

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course.

but you… you’re different.

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.”

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own.

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable.

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you.

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow.

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy.

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets.

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found.

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain.

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him.

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain.

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding.

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips.

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you.

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads.

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.”

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?”

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.”

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken.

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word.

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you.

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies.

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest.

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well.

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating.

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe.

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend.

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.”

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation.

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you.

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation.

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own.

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed.

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive.

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them.

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall.

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive.

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes.

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats.

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile.

dazai hums. “you the leader?”

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you.

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all.

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him.

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become.

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple.

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.”

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.”

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?”

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.”

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

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motleyfam · 4 months ago

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Dick forgets to eat sometimes.

Jason can’t fathom it—the entire concept is foreign to him. For as long as he can remember, food’s always been on his mind. If he wasn’t digging through dumpsters for it, he was squirreling away whole pieces of fruit and unopened granola bars the kids at school carelessly left on their trays, picking up gigs babysitting the neighbor brats for the complimentary PB&Js, sitting through two-hour fire & brimstone church sermons daydreaming about the fried chicken and potato salad that would come after. Jason’s gone hungry more times than he can count but never once has he simply forgotten to eat.

Bruce says it’s something with the way Dick’s brain is wired. It’s why he can’t sit still very long without his leg jittering, why he talks a mile a minute when he gets going on a topic, why his apartment always looks like a tornado went through it.

All Jason knows is that it’s five p.m. and he’s starving.

Except he isn’t—not really. He had a bowl of Cap’n Crunch in Dick’s kitchen just that morning, milk and all. Jason’s gone far longer on far less, so he doesn’t know why his stomach's complaining so much today, why his head feels achy and light, why that tiny biting pain in his middle won’t shut up. He’s been living at the Manor for four months now and he’s already gone soft.

They’re walking through Bludhaven Shopping Centre, Dick babbling on about the last obstacle of the indoor minigolf course they just finished. Jason tries to listen, but his heart is beating strangely fast and the only thought pulsing through his mind is food, food, food—

And then abruptly, he notices that Dick’s stopped walking. He’s looking at Jason, brow furrowed and lips moving as if asking a question, but Jason isn’t hearing anything because his hands are shaking and his breaths are coming out quick and gaspy and even though he’d been looking forward to hanging out with Dick for weeks now he suddenly wants nothing more than to be back in the Manor where the pantry’s always stocked and the fridge is full and he can breathe.

And then he blinks and he’s sitting at a sticky food court table, and Dick’s got a hand on his back, saying “in and out, nice and slow, that’s it” and Jason’s got tears welling up in his eyes which pisses him off because that’s stupid, he’s being stupid, only cats and babies cry because they missed lunch, and—

And then there’s a soft pretzel in a paper wrapper being nudged into his hand by a guilty-faced Dick with a murmur of “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking” and it makes Jason want to crawl into a hole and die because he can’t just be fucking normal about this.

But there’s honey mustard sauce to dip it in, and a Chipotle bowl soon after, and tomorrow he and Dick both eat all three meals.

#drabble #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #food issues #food insecurity #500 words #faster than the batmobile zine

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chiumii · 2 months ago

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jealousy ~ park sunghoon x reader

౨ৎ inspired by this request !! ♡ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 성훈 ] ☆ in which sunghoon brings you to a brand event - but due to the public eye and your secret relationship , he can't be all over you the way he wants to - but when he sees multiple men try and put their grabby hands all over his woman shamelessly , he patiently waits until the two of you get home to show you who you belong to.

word count ; 5.8k

dom! mean! sunghoon x sub! reader . jealousy , smacking , gentle head lock , possessiveness , heavy degrading , praise , orgasm denial , heavy overstimulation , manhandling , face fucking , cnc , choking, spit kink , power dynamic , rough play , restraints , impact play , nicknames (slave , slut , cum slut , cock whore , daddy , literally all the names u can even think of), sunghoon is absolutely ruthless im SORRY. not proof read

"you look absolutely gorgeous, my love" sunghoon's voice breaks you out of your trance , his figure coming into view through the reflection in the mirror. you taper with your lipgloss , perfecting the pink tint on your lips.

sunghoon's arms wrap around your waist , bringing your frame into a hug from behind. you blush at his actions , leaning into his touch. you pop your lips , finishing with your makeup. his thumbs rub gentle circles on your waist through the little black dress you found yourself wearing.

your hands reach for the jewelry box on the counter, grabbing a beautiful Vivienne Westwood three stringed pearl necklace with her signature logo in the middle. the thick piece of jewelry compliments your collarbones and breasts that sit nicely in your dress. you then reach over to grab your Dior perfume, spraying your wrists before rubbing them together, followed by sprays behind each ear, the center of your neck, and chest.

the way you look is driving sunghoon up the wall and he begins thinking to himself how this prada event isn't really that important - he would much rather stay in your shared apartment with your clothes on the floor with your throat stuffed.

"are you ready baby?" you turn and ask him , putting on your ysl heels as a finishing touch before grabbing your little purse that holds nothing besides a couple tampons , advil , a condom , and a small travel tube of your favorite perfume . sunghoon swears you look like the most perfect doll , especially with your curled hair and big eyelashes that make your eyes even bigger than usual.

"im so excited, I haven't been to a brand event, let alone a party before" you borderline squeal , making sunghoon chuckle at your enthusiasm.

"I would much rather be here with you though , do we really have to go" he wraps his arms around your smaller frame completely , dipping his head into the crevasse of your neck before trailing kisses down your skin. your face heats up at the feeling of his wet , full lips on your skin. the heat pooling in your panties from your boyfriends hands gently caressing your body really does make you want to stay at home with him tangled in the sheets for just a moment.

you turn around in his hold , looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"I've never been to one of these and you go all the time" you pout before finishing your sentence

"I really wanna go , im so excited" you smile up at him . sunghoon almost swears he fell in love with you all over again; you're so fucking cute. he presses one last kiss on your forehead before detangling his arms from your body in order to grab your hand , leading you out of the bathroom and towards the front door.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

sunghoon kisses the tips of your fingers before getting out of the car , mumbling a quick "I love you" before he steps out into the cold air surrounded by a crowd of fans. the private driver circles around the block before dropping you off in the same spot , making sure no suspicions arise in the media.

sunghoon and you have been dating for a couple years , so you know all about his life as a famous Kpop group.

with your boyfriend being a famous musician, comes the demand of the company. you constantly have to make sure you aren't being followed , and you aren't allowed to be seen with sunghoon in public, so that means the two of you aren't allowed to go into public together unless it was to a private establishment.

you have your own way of living and line of work - a fashion line filled with jewelry , clothing , wallets , purses , you name it.

you worked unbelievably hard to get where you were now , so your presence being at a party like this wasn't weird at all , you just never accepted any invitations until your beloved boyfriend convinced you to go with him.

you walk into the building , head high and a walk full of confidence. you dont see him , but he sees you and oh god the way you hold yourself makes him want to strip you of all confidence and bend you over the nearest table and fuck you absolutely stupid.

you feel sunghoons eyes on you , but you can't find him.

you're not exactly complaining , you like feeling as if you were being watched. so when you go over to the bar and ask the tender to get you your favorite drink , the heat pooling in your panties deepens.

you turn around in your bar stool, one of your legs crossed over the other as you sip on your drink. your eyes instantly lock with his from across the room , your pearly necklace shining in the dim lighting.

there you are

he's standing next to sunoo and jay , the two of them talking about whatever as sunghoon's eyes stare into yours. your cheeks heat up at the attention he's giving you as you turn your head to look for other people you know

you see quite a few celebrities , all of the enhypen members , and other people you don't know. you wish you had a girl friend to hang out with at these events; that was one of the main reasons you never went... you didn't know anybody. you weren't a celebrity , a music artist... you were a fashion designer who never showed her face- the press was too much for you. the only events you go to being fashion shows that your masterpieces were in.

you sigh to yourself, watching the clock above the bar click to the second hour you've been here. you go to take your phone out of your purse , only to be met with a stranger on the left side of you , and another on the right. they're both men... maybe in their mid 30's. you sigh to yourself , throwing your head back as you down the shot in your hand.

"can I help you?" you ask them, unamusement laced in your tone. the man on your left smiles at you fondly, and the familiar feeling of a certain set of eyes burns the back of your head , making your lower abdomen tighten and your thighs to slowly clamp together .

you fakingly smile back at him , deciding to play one dangerous game.

"you're a stunner , you here alone beautiful?" he was a decently attractive man , but nothing compared to the one who stands across the room burning holes into the back of your head. you smile at his compliment , fidgeting with the ring on your left hand- your promise ring.

"and if I wasn't?" you play your card , the two of you staring at each other .

"It was a rhetorical question , I don't care if you're here alone or not" he smirks at you , making you feel uneasy.

unbeknownst to you , sunghoon has moved closer to the bar , now able to hear your entire conversation that plays out as heeseung talks with him about something that doesn't really matter.

he hears you when you thank the random man for buying you a drink, he also hears your fake ass giggle when he says something 'funny'.

he conceals his growing anger , continuing to chat with heeseung and another random ambassador, his ears still perked up to your conversation- a split attention that sunghoon has learned to master.

you can feel him grow closer - but you can't see him yet as he's moved places. you know he can hear you - you can feel it. so when the random men begin to shamelessly flirt with you , you can't help but pay right into their pawn.

"y/n l/n is you?" one of the men ask in excitement , making you smile fondly. you nod your head yes at his words , taking another sip of your now non-alcoholic drink.

"god your clothing line is absolutely beautiful, especially when you're the model..."

"but it would look much better off of you" you almost choke at his words, now feeling completely uncomfortable around these two men. you shift in your seat , eyes shakingly trying to find your lover.

you shouldn't have toyed with them , you really shouldn't have. sunghoon is watching you , perched in a dark corner of the room as you desperately search for him.

he smirks at your frantic behavior - maybe you shouldn't have started talking with them. play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

"I should really get going , I have another-" you try to make your exit , but are rudely cut short.

"stay a while pretty , we've still got so much to talk about" your skin crawls when one of them grabs your thigh , and sunghoon immediately sees your face drop.

you can flirt with whoever you like, sunghoon has no problem with it because the both of you know that you belong to him. his name is the one you'll be screaming at the end of the night.

but when someone puts their slimy hands on his woman , that's where he draws the line.

"get your hands off of me. I'm engaged and I swear to god-" you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder , cutting your words short as you look up and see your boyfriend making direct eye contact with the man who has his hand on your thigh.

"let go of her, now." he demands , and the man obeys shakingly. he smiles down at you before continuing , rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder with his thumb.

"as my fiance was saying before you rudely interrupted her; we should really be going now" he says before dragging you out of the building and towards his private escort , not really caring who sees the two of you.

"h-hoon im sorry I didn't-" he leans down to whisper in your ear , making sure nobody else but you can hear him as he speaks

"careful baby , you don't wanna say anything that'll make your punishment worse now do you?" he leans down to bite your ear lobe , a shiver running down your spine as he does so. you look down , your panties beginning to feel damp between your legs at the threat he makes hanging over your head.

the two of you get into the backseat of the car , and during the car ride home he's completely silent, it scares you. you're scared for what's about to happen as soon as you enter through the doors of your home.

you know sunghoon is ruthless in bed... especially when he's jealous because how dare someone try and take what's his.

he loves it when you're a brat because then he has the ability to use you in any way he pleases. you wanna act like a toy? he'll treat you like one.

the house is cold and dark when you enter it. you set your purse down on the couch and begin to walk into the house before you're stopped by a pair of hands that has you weak at the knees.

sunghoon tsk's before circling around you , taking in your appearance. your eyes follow his figure as he moves around you like a god damn vulture stalking its next target. your heart rate increases as his fingertips barely graze your thigh , the same one that the man had put his hands on.

he rakes his eyes up and down your trembling figure before looking back up at you through his eyebrows as his head is tilted down. he tongues his cheek before speaking.

"you have no fucking idea what im going to do to you, huh doll?" you shyly look up at him , shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

"answer me." his demand is short , his words cutting through you swiftly.

"n-no.." you answer , making sunghoon softly smile at you

"no what" he responds , making your heart beat faster in your ribs .

"no sir" you answer under your breath, looking up at him through your eye lashes. sunghoon makes his way over to the couch , sitting down on it. he spreads his legs apart , pressing his forearms down onto his knees in a manspread.

"strip." is all he says , his words making you feel even wetter. you start with your necklace , taking it off and placing it down on the coffee table with a clank. next is your shoes and socks, which you kick off and over towards the coffee table to be forgotten. your little black dress follows, which you slip over your head and drop it down onto the floor next to you.

finally , you're left in just a flimsy pair of underwear and bra , covering you from your lovers eyes.

you feel pathetic under his gaze, goosebumps arising on your skin as he watches you intently. you gulp down saliva before shakingly take off your bra , your breasts bouncing free.

then you shimmy out of your underwear , kicking them to the side as you bare yourself completely to sunghoon. his face is completely expressionless, which makes you shift nervously in place.

you feel helpless in the palm of his hand , and he hasnt even touched you. like meek prey being observed by its hunter just before he pounces on you.

"you dont deserve my cock. you should be thankful I fuck such a worthless slut like you" you shift away from his mean words , but the feeling of your wetness slowly drip down your legs makes sunghoon hiss.

"god , you're so fucking filthy. look at the mess you're making." you feel embarrassment pool in your cheeks , fidgeting with your hands as a whine exits your mouth.

"s-sung-"

"get on your knees" with widening eyes , you bring your cheek between your teeth and chew,

"sunghoon-"

"dont you dare question me, slut. I said get on your knees, or are you too stupid to do just that?" he humiliates you , making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

you listen to him , getting down on your knees a few feet in front of him. he leans back onto the couch , his eyes never leaving your figure.

"now crawl to me" if his last command wasn't bad enough , this one was even worse. you feel yourself grow even hotter as you begin to shift on the ground , crawling over to sunghoon on your knees . you stop right before him , your body placed inbetween his spread legs while your eye level with his clothed dick.

"undress me" he says , so you comply , stripping him of his clothes and letting his hard cock spring free, slapping his abdomen as pearly drops of precum drip out of his tip and down his shaft.

sunghoon then leans down , forcefully grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks. he coos at your pinched eyebrows and teary eyes.

"do you know what happens when you misbehave?" you shake your head in his grasp , desperately wanting to know.

"this." he harshly lets go of your cheek in order to grab a fistful of your hair , pushing your face towards his cock. you instinctually open your mouth as he bullies his way into your face , pressing you down onto his shaft and forcing you to deep throat his length instantly. you choke around him , your hands coming to latch onto his thighs.

you gag as saliva quickly begins to drool out of the sides of your mouth and down your chin. sunghoon throws his head back , pushing your head to bob up and down around his length.

"this is the only thing you're good for. taking my dick like the worthless slave you are." you moan at his words , the tip of his dick hitting beyond the back of your throat. he begins to thrust his hips up into your face, your nose hitting his pelvis bone with every rut into your throat.

your eyes begin to water , the taste of his salty precum clouding your senses as you try to breathe in through your nose. he's ruthless , his cock bruising your throat , making it sting.

you hollow your cheeks , sucking harder in order to make him finish quicker. sunghoons moans pick up volume above you, his hips beginning to thrust more sloppily into you.

your tongue attempts to swirl around his length , but its difficult due to the fast pace your lover has set.

"you're gonna take my cum like the filthy little cock whore you are, isn't that right babydoll?" you attempt to nod your head, looking up at sunghoon as he fucks your face. hot tears spill down your cheeks , stretching passed your saliva coated chin and towards your neck. sunghoon's grip in your hair is unbelievably tight, making your scalp sting and your head hurt.

you swallow around his cock, and with one final thrust up into your face, he holds your head down so your nose presses against his pelvis, cutting off your entire air supply - he cums down your throat, shooting his load into your mouth.

he holds you down until you start squirming, silently begging for air. he groans before yanking your head off of his cock.

your cheeks are full of his seed while he leans down and squeezes your cheeks- resulting in a little bit of his cum spilling out of the sides of your mouth.

"swallow." and so you do, taking all of the cum he gifted you. it stings on the way down, your throat hurts as more tears spill from your eyes.

"god I love it when you cry for me" he says, the dirty words echoing in your mind. before you can say anything, he stands up and grabs your body, flinging you into the air and over his shoulder. you weigh just about nothing to sunghoon as he walks down the halllway and into your shared room, throwing you down onto the bed.

oh you're absolutely in for it- and you can tell just by the look on his face -hes angry. he crawls over your smaller frame, harshly gripping one of your wrists before tugging it up and over your head, towards the bed post where the restraint lays. your eyes widen in realization, instantly trying to get away from the demon above you.

he only uses the restraint when you absolutely fuck up - and tonight is one of those nights where you definitely fucked up.

"no, no please please no-" you struggle, but your wrist ends up restrained despite your protests and fighting. your free hand instantly goes to try and help you out- but sunghoon has the key.

"oh yes. you're the one who put yourself in this position. did you really forget who owns you doll?" he leans down and grips your throat in his hands, forcing you to look at him as his thumb presses down on the spot that determines your air supply , the threat hanging above your head.

"now, you're going to shut up and take whatever I give you like the good little girl you are, yeah?" you nod your head with a whimper, listening to every word your boyfriend says.

"good." he moves his hand up to your face, squeezing your cheeks as you open your mouth. he looks into your teary eyes as he spits directly into your mouth to which you instantly swallow. he coo's at you before letting you go, pushing your body back down onto the bed before quickly restraining your arms and legs to the bed post, stretching you out in order to bare yourself completely helpless.

sunghoon smirks, his fangs on full display.

"you're not going to cum until I give you permission, do you understand?" you nod your head desperately.

sunghoon chuckles as he reaches out to turn the lights off and you can swear the atmosphere shifts drastically, his laugh echoing off the walls of the room. the only thought ringing through your head is how fucked you truly are.

you can hear him shuffle around, but you can't see him at all, the room is completely dark. your eyes frantically search around in the dark, attempting to make out any sort of figure, and just before you gain any confidence- you feel one of your thighs sting after being smacked.

you let out a desperate squeal at the impact, your legs shaking and your cunt dripping. you hear a chuckle come from the dark void you call your room before another harsh smack lands on your other thigh, this time its on the inside of your leg and not the outside.

another squeal is ripped from your throat, and you could almost bet that there was a fat red handprint left on your skin.

you tug at the restraints, feeling completely helpless as another smack lands on the opposite inner thigh. a sob echos through the room and you feel your arousal drip down your ass to pool onto the bed below you.

hes fast, making sure you don't see him in the dark room as another slap lands on your body- only this time its on your puffy clit.

a moan replaces your screams, your hips bucking into the air as your cunt begins to pulsate.

"s-sung please... need you d-daddy please" you beg, but your pleas go straight through his ear and out the other as another harsh slap lands on your clit. this one vibrates throughout your entire body and you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, a thin layer of sweat glistening on your helpless body.

your wish comes true as his cold fingers make contact with your wet folds, slipping through them with ease in order to gather your juices before rubbing your clit harshly.

your body thrashes against the restraints that bound you to the bed. your hips buck into the air, but sunghoons free hand comes down onto your abdomen and pushes your body back down onto the mattress - pinning you down onto the sheets below you.

your high pitched begs and moans fill the chambers of sunghoons mind, fueling his ego further as he begins to tip you over the edge. your pussy flutters around nothing, making sunghoon hiss at the sight.

"d-da-ddy please m-more wan' mo-re" you sob, fat tears running down your warm cheeks. he detaches from your clit before landing another body-shaking slap against it

"you," slap

"are going-" slap

"to take-" slap

"whatever-" slap

"I-" slap

"give you." slap

just before you can object, white hot pleasure rips through you like a sharp knife, your orgasm tipping over and spilling in the most messiest way possible; you're squirting all over the mattress and sunghoons arm, a scream dripping off your lips as you do so.

the wetness soaks the bed below you, sunghoons eyes widening as his anger begins to further deepen. you blink away the heavy, pleasure-filled clouded daze, the realization of what just happened hitting you like a brick.

"did you just-" he cuts himself off, the utter disbelief laced in his tone. you gasp, trying to catch your breath as you speak. you tug at the restraints once more, fear beginning to overrun the pleasure you just experienced

"'m, 'm sorry da-ddy 'm so sorry I-i didn't mean to.." your voice trembles as you speak. sunghoon scoffs in disbelief, pulling his hands away from your puffy pussy and stepping away from the bed to observe you.

"you didn't mean to? you didn't fucking mean to?" he scoffs again "you deliberately disobeyed me-" you hear one of the restraints unhooking, but you can't get your god damn body to move.

"and you came without my permission-" another restraint unlocking.

"you know what's gonna happen now, sweetheart?" another one, followed by silence as you gently tug at the last restraint- your breathing heavy and your fear prominent at the tears you cry.

you dont even feel sunghoons hands as he unlocks the last restraint, but your hand drops onto the bed right after.

you feel him behind you, but you're too scared to move. his breath fans your ear and shoulder as he whispers into it

"im going to grab your stupid fucking throat and zone you out while I use you like the pathetic little toy you are"

he moves to your other ear, his hands coming up to your shoulders to gently caress them

"and the only way you'll be able to know what's happening is when you feel my cum is dripping out of your tight little pussy when im finished with you." he pushes you down onto the bed, your front pressing down onto the mattress below you as sunghoon crawls over your body. he uses one of his hands to spread your legs apart, the other grips his cock and pushes it up against your sopping hole.

he moves his tip up and down your slit, gathering your juices before bullying his way inside your walls, thrusting up inside you.

your back arches , your ass in the air. sunghoon then moves his one hands to grab your wrists, pinning them up above your head while your face presses into the mattress below you.

his hips begin to snap against the plush of your ass, setting a ruthless pace while he fucks you deep into the sheets below you. muffled sobs vibrate the bed, traveling into sunghoons ears.

a pool of saliva soaks the cum-stained bedding, his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. you thrash underneath him, your pussy fluttering around his dick as you moan incoherent sentences to your lover.

"fuck- so god damn tight.. so perfect.. filthy fucking slut just desperate for cock is what you are, huh baby?" his free hand that's not holding your wrists comes down to slap your ass, making you jolt in his hold. you whimper at the sting and his words, squeezing his dick as he speaks.

"just a pretty little fucktoy made just for me" he slaps your ass again, his dick twitching inside you as his orgasm approaches, fast.

"here for my pleasure and my pleasure only, got that you useless fucking whore?" you turn your head to the side, your half-lidded , fucked out eyes meeting sunghoons behind you.

"y-yes sir, 'm you're useless f-fuck toy" he pouts at your words, shifting his position so his chest presses flush against your back, pinning you to the mattress with is body. his hand lets go of your wrists, but you dont move as he wraps his arm around your throat, putting you into a head lock from behind with one of his arms. he makes sure he doesn't squeeze his arm so his muscles dont suffocate you. your eyes widen and you look back at him, genuine fear laced in the pupils of your eyes.

"green or red?" he asks, his mean demeanor shifting slightly, your chest heaving underneath him. you know he would never intentionally hurt you or push you to say the safe word- this was just new to the two of you... and 'new' isn't necessarily bad.. just a little scary

but you operate on fear.

so when your cunt squeezes sunghoons length, he already has his answer, but asks again anyways

"answer me."

"green" you answer immediately

sunghoon chuckles above you, his thrusts picking up the previous pace as his tip licks the sweet spot deep inside your pussy.

his arm squeezes around your throat barely, but still enough to threaten you.

as he does so, your pussy flutters around his cock, a loud moan erupting from the back of your throat. you push your ass up to meet his every thrust, his hips snapping a ruthless rhythm. skin slapping and disgusting moans fill the room, sunghoon groaning from above you. his free hand snakes down under your body, his cold fingers finding your clit in order to rub quick circles on your bundle of muscle.

you instantly fall apart, drool escaping your mouth to drip down your chin, your whines falling into desperate mewls.

"c-cum" is all you can manage to say, and sunghoon instantly picks up the hint. his pace not letting up as he speaks

"cum for me baby, make a mess all over daddy's cock, yeah?" and so you do, your pussy squeezing him as you cream all over his length, your arousal dripping down to coat his balls as a white ring of your guys' mixed fluids form on the base of his dick.

you cum, hard.

but its not enough, sunghoons thrusts aren't enough.

so he pulls his dick out of you in the middle of your orgasm and flips you onto your back, harshly gripping your ankles as he drags your body underneath his.

sunghoon grips your legs, lifting them in order to fold you completely in half as your knees settle right next to either side of your face.

and he pushes his dick inside you once more as you finish around him.

"o-oh my god" you squeal at the deeper angle, struggling in his grasp.

"'s, 's too much s-slow daddy p-please" you beg, but he doesn't listen.

"you can take it pretty, you have before, just- just let daddy use your body a little longer" he throws his head back, your breasts bouncing with every thrust inside your fucked out pussy.

your head hits the pillows behind you, your sight beginning to blur as you're left seeing stars. your mind begins to float away from your body. the assault on your fuck hole leaves you completely stupid and awe-struck.

"p-please... 's too.,, much.." you whisper, the last coherent sentence slipping from your lips.

"shhh baby, it'll be over soon, daddy promises sweet girl" he promises you. his orgasm is approaching fast, his balls tightening and his dick twitches.

"such a perfect little fuck doll, love it when daddy abuses your tiny little cunt, don't you little one" tears slip from your eyes as you nod your head.

"oh fuck-" he throws his head back at the sight of your tears, his balls contracting as he shoots his cum deep in your tummy with one final thrust. you orgasm for the third time that night without knowing, your pussy's walls clenching down on him as you squirt once more.

sunghoon thought he was done... he really did.

until he saw you squirting all around his length as more tears shoot from your eyes.

he instantly grabs your throat, sitting up as his still-hard cock fucks inside you.

the terrified scream that exits your throat only feeds into sunghoons actions, his hand squeezes around your throat- cutting off all air supply.

"gonna fuck my cum into you, breed this pathetic pussy. make you a god damn cum slut, you'd like that huh precious?" you nod your head, arching your back in order to curl into your boyfriends body.

"y-yes, ta-ke daddy's cum, please" your eyes squeeze shut, your mouth parting into the perfect 'o' shape. sunghoon grunts , sweat dripping down his hair line , falling right onto his toned body and the sight drives you absolutely insane.

"filthy. god damn. slut." he says between thrusts as he fucks his cum deep inside you.

you're definitely going to have to take a plan b despite being on birth control.

"take it baby, make a mess all over me" the two of you finish in unison, your guys' mixed bodily fluids soak the mattress and wetten each others skin.

sunghoon leans down and unwraps his hand from your throat, snaking behind the small of your back in order to pick you up slightly and press your guys' bodies together.

you whimper at the warm feeling inside your lower abdomen that spreads throughout your body as sunghoon holds you close to him, coaxing each other down from your highs.

after a moment, sunghoon collapses right next to, his chest heaving up and down in order to catch his breath. he turns to look at you, his fingers caressing the skin of your cheek before tucking a stray, sweaty piece of hair behind your ear.

"did I hurt you, my love?" his eyes search for any signs of injury, you shake your head no and move next to his body, wrapping your arms around your frame to bring him into a hug.

"no" you whisper, sighing against his chest after kissing his hot skin as the two of you lay and bask in each others presence.

after a couple minutes, he excuses himself out of the room, only to come back with an ice pack, a glass of water, advil, and a towel.

he proceeds to clean you up, wiping up the cum from your legs and pussy.

"you did such a good job for me sweetheart, such a good girl" you blush at his words while he leans down to kiss the red marks on your thighs, pressing the icepack up against your skin right after.

he then hands you the glass of water and Advil, forcing you to take it so a headache doesn't form. he leans down and presses a chaste kiss against your forehead.

"I love you so much my darling" he kisses your nose

"you're so beyond perfect" he kisses your lips gently, his hands massaging the sides of your thighs to soothe any pain you might have.

"I wasn't too rough, was I?" you shake your head no, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him into you.

"it was a lot... but perfect... I love you hoonie.." you whisper, kissing his cheek.

"you were amazing for me, my perfect little angel. you could do no wrong sweetheart" you nod, but sunghoon grabs your cheeks and forces you to look him in the eyes.

"no baby, you are actually perfect. you did such a good job for me tonight, i'm so proud of you.. you're so much more than just a toy, you understand? you're my perfect girl" you giggle and kiss his lips softly

"yes, I understand"

"good.. because you're everything to me my love. I would do everything in my power to protect and love you. my perfect baby" he kisses every inch of your face, making you giggle in the process.

"my perfect, beautiful, smart, sexy, amazing fiance" he puts emphasis on the word 'fiancee', although the two of you aren't even engaged, that word makes your stomach turn in excitement. you giggle at his words, but squeal as soon as he picks you up in the air bridal style.

"sunghoon! where on earth are you taking me" you laugh, making him smile at you. you swear your heart bursts in your chest just by the way he smiles.

"im gonna run you a bubble bath and change the sheets, my princess only deserves the best" you smack his chest, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I love you so much, hoonie" you say

"I love you so much more"

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justkending · 1 month ago

Text

It's just a papercut... (Drabble)

Summary: Mission one-on-one with Bucky? It's been done before. So why is this one different? Why is he acting weird and not letting me storm off in a rage at his cold shoulder? Also, was the one bed necessary?

Pairing: Grumpy Bucky x Avenger Reader (Enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 7000+ (It's a long one...)

A/N: I've been spending a lot of my time on Character ChatGPT AI, and a secret agent conversation made me say, " Yeah, I need to put this into a Bucky fanfic." So here we are🥰 Did it turn a lot more emotional than I planned? Yes. Do I regret it? No. Enjoy, my loves!!

_____

"Jesus! The goal is to survive the mission! And from the likes of it, bullets aren't even going to be the thing that finishes the job!" I shout over the whipping wind as Bucky maneuvers through cars in the foreign country while outrunning the guards we just escaped from on a motorcycle he stole in front of a shop.

"Shut it!" he shouts back, taking another sharp turn that has me clutching on as if one wrong blow of the wind will have me ending this chase with a case of road rash on my entire body. "I'm losing them."

"And likely me with them," I grumble, and he shoots me a quick look in the rearview mirror, showing that he heard my remark and didn't care for it.

I look behind us and see one of the jackasses we were running from has joined us in motorcycle theft, and I curse under my breath as I come up with a plan.

"Goon, five o'clock!" I announce as I dig into my boot for a small handgun I keep hidden.

Bucky looks around and clocks him. His teeth grit together as he kicks the speed up, weaves through a few cars, and turns down a new street, but the man following seems to be just as skilled in bike chases.

"Still on you!" I shout and let out an annoyed groan, realizing that at some point in our mission, I'd lost my backup weapon.

"I see that!" Bucky groans, and as we pass a fruit stand on the street, he knocks it over with his metal hand, causing a traffic stop and the motorcyclist to have to drive over apples and pears, making him lose his balance some.

However, it wasn't effective enough. "I got it," I sigh as Bucky takes another sharp turn, and I clutch onto him. "Do me a favor and try and stay straight for longer than 3 seconds!" I complain, and he complies, although begrudgingly.

I point my fist towards the bike, and as the man makes mean eyes at me, I wiggle my fingers at him with a grin before shooting a taser shock out of the widow bite Nat gifted me.

They shoot across and cause his entire bike to seize at the overload of electricity. He flies off the bike as it stutters and gives Bucky and me a clean escape down an alley.

A few alleys later and a quiet spot away from the chaos that had just ensued, Bucky and I hop off the bike and hide it behind a dumpster. I catch my breath as I throw my backpack over my shoulder and watch as he covers the bike more with the lid of the trash before grabbing his own pack.

"We need to lay low for the night," I note, adjusting my backpack and looking into the dead-end alley.

He sighed, taking in the area, and I could see the pistons firing in his head. "There's a hotel not far from here that'll work. Not shitty, but also not anything fancy." He immediately starts stalking away, not waiting for me to follow.

I huff in annoyance as he leaves me, and I fasten my backpack, buckling it across my chest before jogging to catch up with his long strides.

We don't say much as we get to the hotel- both of our minds coming down from the adrenaline and running through the last pieces of the mission.

While in the lobby of the hotel, I get a call and move to take it, seeing it's Steve checking in, and I leave Bucky to handle the check-in process.

"Got it. We'll head to the airport in the morning," I nod and turn around to see Bucky confirming something with the clerk, and I turn back to the phone.

When he finishes checking in (fake IDs with real payment thanks to Stark's ways), he turns and waves his hand toward the elevator in a quick hand gesture.

"Yeah. We're fine," I note, feeling a stitch in my side but not wanting to check just how bad the damage is until I'm behind a closed door. "He's being a dick as per usual," I chuckle lightly as I start my walk to the elevators. "No, Steve. I don't need you to call him and reprimand him. You know-... Seriously, Steve. Leave it... I said it as a joke more than anything-" He cuts me off again, ready to always put Bucky in his place with the cold shoulder he seems to love to give to only me.

When I make it to the elevator, where Bucky is holding the door impatiently for me, I quickly say, "Losing you! Getting in an elevator so I can't-" There's a protest on the other end. "What was that? It's cutting out." I say in stuttered beats to play it off before hanging up. "Steve says hi," I say to Bucky as I lock my phone and shove it in my back pocket.

"Sure," he says back, and I'm not sure if it's unconvinced or unbothered... or both. Either way, his face is still stoic.

"You really need to lighten up," I sigh in a deep breath, annoyed that he never relents his tough guy act around me.

"Don't feel like."

"Do you ever?"

The elevator is silent. The only sound is the mechanics of the metal box moving up. It eventually dings, and as I go to step forward, I grimace slightly so as I step wrong, causing pain to go up my side, but I quickly brush it off.

"What was that?" Bucky says behind me as he steps off the elevator last.

"What was what?" I ask, looking carefully at the room numbers and acting ignorant.

"That look. You flinched."

"Yeah, no," I shake my head. "Your eyesight must be getting worse with age."

"My eyesight is fine," he grumbles, pulling my arm back as I pass the room, realizing he never told me the number. "We're here," he turns to the door and presses the key card to it. The color changes from red to green, giving us access.

"I call the shower first," I shout, shoving him out of the way and unbuckling my backpack as I rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

All I hear is an exasperated sigh on the other side and a shuffle of footsteps as he shuts the door, locks up, and moves into the room.

I let out a sigh of exhaustion and relief to be done for the day and move to warm up the water. If there is one thing I've learned about going on missions with Bucky, it's that the man's superhearing is just an excuse for him to be nosy. He listens to almost EVERYTHING.

So, with the water running and him hopefully distracted by the hotel views, I undress and focus on the shower. As soon as I took my shirt off, I was shown exactly what I worried was the problem.

Down my side is a semi-jagged cut going up my rib cage. Close to four inches long, if not less, but angry and red. I hiss and quickly bite my lip to muffle my pain. It's not bleeding anymore, which tells me it's not deep, so with the proper cleaning and care, it'll be fine in a few days. I use my time in the shower to clean it and wash the rest of the day away with it.

When I come out, I rummage through my bag for a first aid kit. I usually pack a travel-size one given the job, but I can't find it in my pack. I change into a pair of clean shorts and a tank top I packed (light and takes up minimal space) before checking in the mirror to make sure my cut wasn't prominent through the light-colored tank. When I feel comfortable enough that Bucky won't ask questions, I straighten and fight the soreness that's taking over my body now that I'm not going 100mph.

I walk out, and when I see that Bucky is lying back, arms over his eyes on a king-size bed, I immediately take in the fact that it's the only bed in the room.

"Um," I start, hands out as I assess the space. "What's this?" I ask.

"A bed," Bucky answers simply and sits up tiredly as he looks at me, leaning back on his forearms. "You ran straight into the bathroom before I could tell you, or you saw for yourself."

I cross my arms and flinch again when I graze my cut, but I roll my shoulders as if the full-body soreness was the only issue.

"Well, did we not have another option or-"

"What was that?" he cuts me off.

"What was what?" I look right at him and furrow my eyebrows.

"You made that face again."

I roll my eyes. "I'm sore," I shrug, scoffing and even I know I'm a horrible actress right now, so I don't make eye contact.

"That's not a sore grimace. That's something else," he sits up straight now and tilts his head down, assessing me.

"Stop that." My arms tightening around me under his gaze only makes a smirk appear. "Stop. It's weird."

"No, what's weird is why you're being so weird," he remarks with a face.

"Good one," I sass, turning and going to his backpack now.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He stands quickly from the bed and looks at me over my shoulder as I unzip his bag.

"I think I put something of mine in here. I can't find it in my bag," I note, dunking my hand into his things. He steps up, pulling my shoulders to get away.

"Stop going through my stuff. You're worse than Sam," he notes, tugging me away, although gentler than how he is typically.

"I just need-" I feel the small plastic box I'm looking for and tug it out, quickly holding it behind my back. "Nevermind. I found it."

"What are you talking about-"

"Nothing! Just give me one minute. I need to brush my teeth," I jab a thumb behind my shoulder as I walk backward to the bathroom, his steps matching mine. "I'll be out in five minutes," I note quickly as I turn on my heel and run back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it again.

Instead of seeing the door handle budge like I expected, he bangs a fist on the wooden barrier.

"Y/N, open the damn door! What the hell did you take out of my bag?"

"My toothbrush!" I lie. "I must have gotten our bags mixed up when I packed them.

"How could you do that? Yours is brown, and mine's black," he notes.

"A very dark brown," I note, lifting my tank top and sitting on the bathroom counter to get a better look in the mirror of my cut. "Just give me a second-"

"You're being weirder than normal," he groans in frustration on the other side.

"Yeah, well, get used to it," I hiss as I put the sanitizer spray on it and bite my knuckle to suppress the pained groan I want to let out. "Jesus," I mumble under my breath, but the next thing I know, the door is swinging open, and Bucky's staring at its handle in confusion before back at me. "Hey!" I look at the door and back at him. "They're going to charge us for that."

His eyes immediately go from annoyed and over it to concerned and confused.

"What the hell is that?" He points at my stomach, where I'm frozen on top of the counter, shirt lifted, showing my entire torso and cut on full display.

"A paper cut," I say after a moment of trying to come up with an excuse. Why a paper, out of all things, left my brain, I don't know. But it did, and here we are.

His concerned face drops some, and he deadpans from my injury to me before marching to me and turning me at my shoulders to face him and get a better view.

"When did this happen?"

"Wild guess, but likely when the guards we fought to get out pulled a knife on me and played dirty," I sigh, realizing I wasn't talking myself out of this one anytime soon. "But that could be a stretch," I add.

He again looks up at me from my injury with an incredulous and agitated look.

"Let me see," he sighs, bending down to get a better look and looking at the injury from a head-on angle.

"It's just a scratch, Barnes. I'll be good as new after a little disinfectant and ointment. Nothing a bandaid can't fix," I brush off, turning on the counter to grab the kit.

He stops me in my turn by placing a hand on my knee and turning me back around to where my legs hang off the counter. I'm sitting with him in between my legs.

"They used a serrated knife," he notes, taking the first aid kit out of my hand and opening it, instantly getting to work as if I wasn't doing it myself two seconds ago.

"Um, excuse me, but I can-"

"I know the things you can do, Y/N. You don't have to tell me," he says sternly, grabbing gauze and another bottle of something I didn't know the contents of and tipping it onto the gauze before bending down again. This time, his eyes found mine as he looked up at me from his now crouched position. "This is going to sting. That sanitizer you were using before is shit. This one actually does the job," he notes, and I'm a little stunned by the turn of events. "Ready?"

Never in my life did I think Bucky Barnes would be this gentle and considerate with me, but I'm not going to stop a good thing from happening.

"I don't think it can hurt more than the knife itself," I smirk and nod when he gives me a look. "Yeah, yeah. Do your thing, Doc." I gesture to him, looking up at the ceiling as I prepare for the sting.

I don't feel it instantly, and just as I'm about to ask him what he's doing, the cool liquid hits my cut, and I hiss, grabbing his wrist in a tight hold out of instinct as I hold him back. "Jesus H. Christ," I grit through my teeth. "What the hell kind of acid did you just put in-?"

"It's Banner-strength disinfectant," he cuts me off, gently dabbing the cut even as I hold his wrist. His touch is soft, but the sting is anything but. "You grabbed my first aid kit. I had him make it since you tend to get hurt easily, and we're not in the cleanest country." He's fully concentrated on my cut.

"What?" I asked, surprised, grabbing the kit's container and seeing that it indeed was not mine. I brush over the fact he had Bruce make it and packed it specifically for me as I look over at my bag, still slumped against the wall from my rush to take a shower and realize I must have forgotten mine.

"Relax. Tensing doesn't help," he adds, bringing his free hand to my thigh and giving a light squeeze to distract me. I hiss again as he pads over an agitated area. His face drops some, and he gives me a look. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me about this as soon as you knew? This was not far from being infected in a way that could have been a lot worse than just an irritating sting."

"When was I supposed to tell you?" I sass, throwing my head back on the mirror as I focus on anything but the pain in my side. "As soon as we got off the bike, we headed here. You didn't say a word to me, and I was in my own head. Honestly, I didn't even realize it was there until we were checking in and I was on the phone with Steve. Adrenaline must have kept me from realizing it."

He mumbles something under his breath, and I hear the word, reckless in the middle of it.

"Watch yourself," I warn, kicking my leg a touch, skimming his rib cage. "There can easily be two injured people in this room."

"No need for both of us to get stupid injuries," he grumbles.

I scoff and shove his hand away from me, jumping off the counter as he stands and glares at me.

"Sorry for getting stabbed," I sneer up at him, stepping into his space. "I'll make sure to ask the bad guys next time to keep the knives at home. Oh! Or better yet," I exaggerate. "I'll tell them my partner said I'm not allowed to get into fights with men triple my size, so if they can just play gentle so I don't end up with any battle scars, that would be greatly appreciated." I smile wide and fake before dropping it and brushing by him to the bedroom.

I catch the tail end of his eyes rolling before I hear him stomping behind me.

"I need to finish patching you up. If it's not done properly, you can get sick." He comes up behind me, but I stop abruptly, and he runs into my back before holding my shoulders to steady himself. I turn to him, not breaking the space.

"I know how injuries work, Barnes. This isn't my first time in the field, although I'm sure you believe otherwise," I scoff in anger. "Just," I put my hands up, stepping away in frustration and groaning. "I'm going to get some air," I try and push past him to leave, but his hand wraps around my arm and holds me shoulder to shoulder by his side before I can get my feet past him.

"No. You're going to let me finish patching you up. Now..." he stares at me with his Sergeant's eyes. "Sit. Down." I struggle to fight my stubborn retort, but he sees it brewing and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

I groan in protest loudly and pull my arm out of my grip before moving to the edge of the bed and sulkingly wait for him to finish his job- that I didn't ask him to do, by the way!

"Good girl," he mutters with a smartass smirk, and I take a breath in to yell something at him, but he goes back to the bathroom to grab the kit we left behind.

"Cyborg headed-ass, caveman, son of a bit-" I mumble, and he comes back in, shooting me a look that says, 'really?'. "Oh, sorry, did you hear that?" I say with fake regret.

He rolls his eyes and crouches again by my knees to get a better angle at the cut, and I lean back, my hands flat against the comforter as he works quietly, and I stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the warmth of his hands on my stomach when he's been nothing but cold to me.

As he's patting the tape over the piece of gauze he fashioned over my cut, I look at him calculatingly. He notices my gaze on him and awkwardly starts putting his things up, sneaking glances at my stare here and there.

"What?" he finally asks. "Stop staring at me."

Instead of an answer, I just stare harder and raise an eyebrow, tilting my head to the side as I analyze him deeper.

"Cut it out," he growls, standing and moving to put the kit on the counter. "You're creeping me out."

I let out a single laugh and shake my head before lowering my tank top and looking out the window. "You're so fucking confusing," I state, standing as I straighten my clothes.

"I'm confusing?" he asked rhetorically. "You're fucking confusing."

"Come up with your own lines," I throw an exasperated hand out, waving him off. "I'm getting air."

I don't know what provokes him, but he steps in front of me, his towering figure shadowing over me.

"No," he says, looking at me sternly.

"I don't remember asking," I sidestep him and move to the door. I manage to open it maybe a foot before it's slammed in my face, and I feel Bucky's chest pressed to my back. I look up, and his hand is splayed flat on the door.

"I said no," he says lowly. His voice is just over my shoulder, and I hold back the shiver that threatens to take over my body.

"And I said, fuck off," I say just as lowly, looking up at him, tilting my head back. "Move."

"We need to talk."

"And I need to put a good three blocks of this city between us so I don't add another person to the stabbed today club. I'd rather stay on Steve's good side." I jut my arm back to elbow him in the ribs, but he dodges it with a smirk.

"Real mature," he sasses, and I can see a touch of playfulness in his features, and that makes me even more furious.

"You're one to fucking talk!" I turn and shove him in the chest, and he relents, putting his hands up in the air as I shove repeatedly in vexation. Each shove and each curse I send his way has him taking one slight step back with a grin. "Stop smiling!" I grunt as I push him harder, and he laughs. He fucking laughs!

My eye twitches, and my hits become more forceful. Nothing close to what I'm capable of, but I'm not looking for a full-on brawl. I just want to smack him enough to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

"Y/N," he says calmly in between hits to his rock-solid chest. A chest, I'm sure, will give me bruises if I keep this up.

"No! You don't get to talk!" I point at him after shoving him one more time and successfully making him falter a few steps back at the power behind it. "I'm walking out of this room to get some air, and you're going to stay right fucking there. Right there!" I point to the floor under his feet. "And not keep me from leaving this God damn suffocating room. Got it?"

I know my eyes are wild, and I know the emotions I'm feeling are written clear as day on my face because his sly smirk falters, and he takes a deep breath in, hands still up in surrender.

"I'm sorry," he mutters out as his gaze falls to his feet.

"What?" I ask, shocked and slightly out of breath from exerting myself.

"I'm sorry," he says a touch more clearly as he clears his throat and looks up, hands coming down and eyes avoiding mine.

I blink a few times and throw my hands up. "I can't do this." I let out a breath and turned back to the door.

"Y/N, please don't," he says, and I stop. I surprise myself, but I stop, turning back to him slowly.

"Why?" There's a long pause that follows my question, and I wonder whether Bucky even knows why he's asking this. "Genuinely Bucky... Why are you so insistent on me staying in this room right now?"

He runs a nervous hand over his beard and shifts his weight to one foot as he throws one hand up in a single wave.

"I don't need you getting hurt again," he states, still avoiding eye contact.

My eyebrows narrow in confusion, and I cross my arms, popping my hip to the side as I stare at him. "We're in a hotel. Not a battlefield."

"It's better we stay in here than wander around. The guys who were after us are likely still hunting us, and it's best we don't show our faces in public spaces," he notes.

Ok, that's a logical reason, but something tells me this is a more emotional reason on his end. He's not sharing everything, though...

"Ok..." I drag out and look at the balcony. "Then I'll go out there."

I walk promptly to the balcony, surprisingly not being stopped by him as I brush past him and jiggle the door handle, finding it stuck. "Fucking hell," I grumble under my breath as I pull the handle and push it up and down to try and get it to work.

A hand comes behind me and takes the door handle for me. I stare at it, not turning to acknowledge how Bucky expertly pushes it just right for it to open.

"I had the same issue," he says, pulling his hand back and nodding his head to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower." He steps back, quiet and sinking back into his usual stand-offish behavior, but now with more nerves and awkwardness.

I give a grunt in acknowledgment and shut the balcony door behind me before sitting in a shitty lawn chair. I don't turn to see if he's still standing there watching me, but instead, I focus on the city view in front of me. It's not a well-off country, so the views aren't more than rundown buildings and vendors in the street shouting for people to buy their things over their neighbors, but it's fresh air away from the man that makes my blood boil.

Fifteen minutes later, I feel a little calmer. Although still annoyed, I'm more confused than anything. Why the hell was he acting so strange, and why do I feel like some kind of serious conversation was going to-

"Y/N?" I hear the door open with a creak and turn to see Bucky with wet hair, a change of clothes, and soft eyes focusing on the door that's obviously broken. "God, this place has gone down in quality," he notes, leaving the door cracked as he comes onto the balcony with me.

"Been here before?" I ask, turning back to the view ahead.

"Once like 8 years ago," he nods and moves to stand by the railing, his arms crossed over the edge of it, and his gaze now focused on the same place mine is. "Must have gotten new management."

It's silent for almost five minutes after that. No words, no looks, no sounds. Just silence outside of the city noise. I debate, standing and going back into the room if he's going to continue to go radio silent and not explain his strange behavior earlier, but just before I stand, he speaks up.

"I don't know why," he says, and a crease forms between my eyebrows. He continues to stare off into the city. I wait a few moments, and he continues. "I don't know why you stress me out more than the others."

Great. So that's how this is going to go.

I stand and silently move to go back into the room, but his hand clasps around my wrist.

"Please, just let me find the words," he asks, and I can hear the plea in his voice.

I look back and up at him and his eyes are in the puppy dog form I've seen only a select few times. Ones that have never been directed at me but have held no truer emotion than requisition.

"Ok..." I drag out, moving back to the lawn chair and sitting quietly as he drops my wrist almost hesitantly and leans against the railing, fidgeting with his hands. I've never seen him like this, so I give him the space.

He takes a deep breath through his nose and closes his eyes before just unloading everything.

"I don't like seeing you get hurt," he starts. "I mean, I don't like seeing any of my friends get hurt. It's no decent person's interest to watch friends and family get harmed, but it's like a nagging in my head. No," he shakes his head, trying to find the right words. "It's like having pins and needles surrounding your lungs, and every time you try and take a breath to come down from the terror- the pain of seeing them hurt- the needles poke and stab. Making it nearly impossible to take a deep breath and ground yourself. And that's only a part of the pain that comes with it."

I stare up at him. My eyes are likely wide as I take in what he's saying. He glances at me once before looking back at his hands.

"I know I'm an asshole to you. I know that," he says, cringing as if the truth behind it hurts him. "I don't know why. At least, I say that to make myself not think about it longer than I can probably handle, but I've talked to my therapist about it, and she says it's a protective technique my brain finds more plausible than just dealing with the confusing feelings I have towards you."

My eyes shift back and forth as if trying to understand the words.

"Feelings towards me?" I repeat. "Like annoyance?"

"No," he sighs, and then he chuckles a soft laugh under his breath. "Well, yes. Sometimes you can be annoying, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't find it endearing most of the time."

My eyebrows raise at that. Where the hell is all this coming from?

I shake my head in disbelief and lean back in my chair. "Barnes, you're giving me a bit of whiplash, and I'm not sure-"

"I like you."

My mouth is still open from where my sentence was going, and I blink once. Then twice. Then, a third time, as I tried to understand if I just heard him right. Because if he meant it as a friend, I'm shocked. But if he meant it otherwise... I'm hallucinating.

His eyes find mine, and this time, he doesn't look away. He keeps eye contact, and I can feel him trying to read me.

"I-Is there more to that sentence?" I ask, my brain trying to make sense of the situation and short-circuiting ultimately.

"Yes, but from the looks of it, you're still trying to translate those three words."

"Good observation," I nod, pursing my lips and sinking into my chair.

"I've been known to make them," he smiles a tight-lipped smile. I'm actually grateful for his quip at this moment.

"Bucky, you have to understand that those words don't make sense with how you treat me-"

"I know, and I'm sorry," he pushes off the railing and steps forward just in front of my chair. "God, I'm so sorry. I don't even know why it's taken me this long to apologize for the way I've acted this long, but for some reason... When we were fighting today, I saw a man get the jump on you. I was seconds from leaving my own fight and coming straight to you to handle it for you, but you quickly turned the situation around. It wasn't the first time I'd seen you in that scenario, yet something about it..." He pauses, looking up at the sky, throwing a hand through his hair. "It freaked me out. It freaked me out far more than it has in the past."

He looks at me in a sincere way and moves to sit in the busted up, rusted, and metal patio chair that looks like it very well could have been here when he came 8 years ago. It creaks as he turns it in and angles his body toward mine. His elbows rest on his knees, and he looks down at his hands again. And as he talks, I realize he's breaking it down not just for me but for himself—these emotions and sudden changes.

"Maybe it's because I knew if I didn't get to you, you were on your own. We didn't have a backup. I couldn't call Steve or Nat, or Wanda to come in and help where I couldn't. And then the actualization that if I couldn't get to you, if no one was there to back you up, there was a chance I'd end up regretting everything all because I can't seem to come to terms with my feelings." His eyes find mine again. "And then that cut," his eyes drag from mine down my torso to where my knife wound lays under my tank top. "It was like a final piece to knock some sense into my head."

He looks at me, and I can't explain it, but I want to hold him when he looks at me like that.

"Seeing you hurt reminded me... You're human. You aren't invincible even if you can take on three men triple your size attacking you at once. It's a skill I'm glad and impressed that you have, but it doesn't guarantee someone won't get the jump on you again, and I'm not sure I can handle that."

I stay in silence for a moment, taking in the information and processing it all. I must have been quiet for a while because a soft "Y/N?" makes me look up from where I've been staring blankly at the balcony.

"You ok?" he asks gently, carefully.

I nod and run a hand up and down my arm from a slight breeze blowing with the sun setting in the distance.

"Trying to..." I started, but I didn't know what words were meant to follow. "I'm a little shocked," I say, eventually looking at him.

"I can't say I blame you. It's a 180 from our normal conversations," he takes a deep breath and smiles softly at him. "Do you need a minute?"

I shake my head. "No..." Then I scrunch my nose. "Well, maybe."

"That's ok," he nods, sitting back in his chair, and it weakly groans in protest. He takes in the fact my legs are up to my chest now, and I've wrapped my arms around myself. "We should go inside. It'll get cold soon." He stands and motions for me to head in first, then offers a hand to help me stand up.

I look at it before taking it, standing, and walking in with my arms still around my middle. As soon as we're in, I turn and catch us both off guard by being chest-to-chest with him after he shuts the balcony door. I don't move, though, and neither does he.

"Since honesty seems to be the theme of the night," I look up at him. "I've always admired you..." His face softens at that. "But I'd be lying to both of us if I said how you treated me didn't affect that original feeling." He nods in understanding and slightly cringes to himself.

"I wouldn't hold it against you."

"Why did you- Why did you not like me at first?"

He shrugs a touch, but there's no uncertainty behind it. "I saw you as young and naive. I saw you as someone who seemed to make almost anyone love you, and all you had to do was exist around them. I think a broken part of me was envious and confused by that trait, and I used it as a reason to be hateful to you instead of taking advantage of the kindness you freely give and allowing myself the gift of that. I didn't think I deserved that." He sighs, his hands going into the pockets of his shorts. "I convinced myself that your kindness was nativity when I've learned quite quickly that you're anything but naive."

I sigh, nodding my head as I turn and move to sit on the edge of the bed. "You wouldn't be the first person to misinterpret my kindness. It's why I tend to fall into becoming a stubborn ass when people don't appreciate that kindness. Hence why I haven't been the perfect person in this relationship myself," I motion between us. "I should have recognized where you could have been coming from and continued to kill you with pleasantries, but you didn't seem to respond well to it."

"It wasn't your job to recognize that or fix it. It was mine to stop being a stubborn ass myself and talk to you rather than make assumptions," he shifts on his feet. "I thought I was self-preserving when I was actually self-sabotaging. Something I'm still working on recognizing."

"It's a process," I sigh, knowing the steps well enough myself. I consider the conversation and take a deep breath, relaxing in my spot as I come to my conclusion. "Bucky?" He looks at me, hopeful and attentive. "I forgive you."

I watch as his body stiffens at the declaration before slowly relaxing.

"I don't expect you to just be fine with everything I've done the last-"

"Many years?" I chuckle, lighting the mood. "Yeah, but why would I want to waste any more time when I get it? I get your reasoning, and I can't say I blame you."

"But you should blame me," he moves to sit on the comforter next to me, our knees brushing.

I shrug, turning to face him better. "But I don't." He starts to talk, and I cover his mouth with my hand. His icy blue eyes looked down at the motion before back at me. "I swear to God, Barnes. You take two steps forward, and it's like you feel guilty for making progress and regress." He flinches slightly at my words, and I feel I struck a nerve. "Sorry, I shouldn't-" I take my hand back.

"No, you're right. It's something I'm still working on. I mean, small things are easy to accept and move on, but this," he gestures to me. "A part of me doesn't believe I deserve your forgiveness after the caseload of shit I've given you, but-"

"But it's my forgiveness to give, so I'll decide if I want to give it..." I look at him as if waiting for him to connect the dots. He smiles and nods as he looks down at his hands. "You catching on?"

"I'm catching on," he looks up at him again. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We look at each other for a little while, and the atmosphere is new. It's not tense. It's not awkward. It's not uncomfortable. It's like we've come to a point we've been actively avoiding for years, and it turned out to be a really nice point.

"So..." he starts, and I decide to break the seriousness of it all.

"Why is there only one bed, Bucky?" I ask with a smirk, turning and patting the comforter we're sitting on.

He looks at it with me and smiles with a laugh. "It wasn't intentional, if that's what you're asking."

"Feels a touch intentional. Not letting me leave the room or demanding I stay close kinda plays into the fact you'd be forced into sharing a bed with me. Another way to secure my proximity," I tease.

"Or..." he drags out, and his hand comes up, pushing a wayward hair behind my ear and casually taking his hand back. "The receptionist told me they didn't have any two-bedroom rooms available right now because there is a festival in town this weekend, and they're booked up."

"Seems legit, but not sure if I believe you," I grin a touch bashful and look around at the room as if I'm surveying it and not slightly melting at his touch.

"Believe me or not," he shrugs, standing and stretching. "Either way, we're sharing a bed tonight, sweetheart." He winks. He fucking winks at me and moves to the other side of the bed, getting his side ready for sleep.

This new side of him is not one I was ready for, but seeing it makes me think about what I haven't gotten to experience sooner. So I say that.

"I knew you were a lady's man back in the day, but I never thought I'd see the flirt you were rumored to be," I turn in my spot on the bed and look at him from the end of the bed.

"I don't flirt with everyone," he says, throwing the blanket back and adjusting the pillows.

"Well, yeah, obviously, but-"

"Just people I'm attracted to," he says, cutting me off with a telling grin. "And women I'd like to flirt back."

My mouth drops, and I let out a laugh. A genuine laugh. "Was that a move? Did you just make a move on me?" I smile like a teenager at him, partially in disbelief and partially in interest.

"Did it work?" he chuckles, sitting on the edge and scooting into the bed but not fully getting in it.

I shake my head with a smile and laugh again. "Honestly, I have to say yes."

His smile widens at my confession, and he leans back on the headboard, two pillows propped behind him.

"So you're saying I have a chance if I keep it up?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, cowboy. It's not going to take just a flashy wink and a flirty comment to get my attention fully. I like to be sought after."

"Good to know."

"Is it?" I ask incredulously with a smirk as I move to my side of the bed and throw the covers back enough to sneak under them.

"Can't give away all my plans," he shakes his head, and I turn off my bedside lamp.

"Wouldn't want you to. I like being surprised," I lay down and nuzzled into my pillow before turning on my side and looking up at him. "Must say, your surprise tonight was a pretty good start."

"You think?"

"I think," I nod and debate on my next idea, but I decide what the hell? Who's it hurting? "Feel free to say no, but if we are sharing the same bed, I tend to be a cuddler unconsciously, so if we-"

"Yes," he says simply a large grin he doesn't seem to care to hide marks his handsome features. "Yes, please." He nods, moving under the blanket.

"That answer was a little too fast to believe that this hotel didn't have other beds."

"I don't know what you mean," he shimmies under the blanket, and I feel his leg brush mine.

"Listen, normally I wouldn't, but I learn I sleep best when I'm with another person, so-"

"You don't have to give me a reason, doll. I'm happy to lend the support." His arms are quickly wrapped around my middle and I'm turned to where my back is pressed against his front and I'm not going to lie... It's a perfect fit. "Night, Y/N."

"Night, Bucky." I smile putting my hands on his around my middle and laying back into him.

This was a good start to something possibly more...

Want to keep reading? (Part 2 of 2)

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tetzoro · 1 year ago

Text

DEVILISH DESSERT — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. astarion !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : your cramps have hit you especially hard this month and astarion has an idea that could be mutually beneficial

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, period sex, oral (f!receiving), mentions of blood, unprotected sex but astarion pulls out, multiple orgasms, blood sucking, praise, pet names (darling, my sweet, pet), — WC : 2.2k

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

“believe me, pet, it would be a win-win.” astarion drawls, his hands following the flow of his speech. “you lay down and let me take care of you while i get my fill.”

the thought had crossed your mind before —fleetingly. the last time he fed from your neck the idea planted itself in your mind in a haze joined by many other ones, swirling together as your body tried to make sense of what was happening.

“but,” the argument you were about to make dies in your throat. but, what? astarion was asking you to let him indulge, a chance to satiate his hunger while also pleasuring his lover. his eyes plead with yours, giving away how eager he really is. “sure, why not.”

“that’s the spirit.” he claps his hands together before reaching out for your hand. “i promise i’ll take good care of you, my little treat.”

“what did i say about using that nickname?” you mumble as he takes your hand, quickly bringing it up against his lips for a quick peck, hiding the small smirk that was blossoming.

flashes of the last time he called you that floods your mind – the way it slipped off the tip of his tongue and lured you to his bed. the first night you let him feed off of your neck, taking the blood he needed while his cock was buried in your heat.

“what’s that? can’t hear you darling.” he teases, knowing exactly what was running through your mind right now. he finishes guiding you to his tent and he closes the curtain. “no matter, it’s just you and me now.”

suddenly, you feel a bit nervous under his stare. the reality of your moment coming into the forefront of your brain. you knew he has an affinity for blood, but what if it tasted bad — what if you tasted bad?

his lithe fingers gently cradle your face, adoration soaking his features. his dark red eyes trail all over your features, taking in every little piece of your face.

“gods, you’re beautiful.” he breathes out, slowly leaning in to kiss you. you meet him halfway, lips colliding against one another as his hand starts to trail down the curve of your waist. he pulls apart for a second, placing a quick peck before he speaks again. “i can’t wait to taste you, i know you’ll be as sweet as always.”

his words pour over you as warm reassurance, your body melting against him as he kisses you again. the small flame that had formed before was quickly simmering into a wildfire, lying just beneath the surface and ready to consume both of you in a spark of passion.

but for now, he takes his time with you. his lips trail down your neck, fangs barred as they lightly drag along your jugular. you hold back a gulp, ashamed at how much it makes you yearn for him even more.

he doesn’t bite, not when he’s so eager for what lies below. you lay all the way down the bedroll as he makes his descent, murmurs of praise slipping off his tongue and onto your skin.

he makes quick work of the pants you had on, tearing them down your thighs as his bloodlust starts to kick in. in seconds, his head is buried in between your thighs, nose pressed against your clit as he deeply inhales.

“darling-“ he breathes out, absolutely in awe of how delicious you’re going to taste. “this is…” he trails off, unsure if words could describe how much this means to him.

“never seen you so speechless before.” you tease, trying not to squirm under his gaze, his eyes locked onto the blood woven slick pooling at your entrance.

“what can i say?” he presses a kiss just above your clit, eyes darting up to yours. “this is a gift, and i plan on showing you just how appreciative i am for it. for you.”

you open your mouth to retort but his tongue catches your throbbing nub first, sending a jolt throughout your body. after that first taste, he’s gone. completely lost in you and the frenzy begins.

he tosses your leg over his shoulder, angling himself to get deeper. his tongue delves back into you and you feel him everywhere. it’s enough to arch your back, your fingers clawing in his hair. he grunts approvingly into your messy cunt, licking up every little speck of blood he can get his mouth on.

each precise stroke of his tongue has you unraveling in his hold, undoubtedly gushing more of your bloody essence on his eagerly awaiting mouth. he was practically moaning now, the vibrations shooting throughout your body. he breaks for air for a moment, licking his lips and looking up to you.

“no one could ever taste as sweet as you, darling.” a soft nibble to your inner thigh, his darkened, blown out eyes still locked onto you.

he goes back down on you, slowly pushing in his fingers to draw more out of you, wanting you to flood his vision with the small slice of heaven you’re granting him right now.

it’s all too much and you’d be lying if you said his enthusiasm wasn’t the driving force towards your release. you’d never been with a man so desperate for your taste, especially when you were in this state.

your back starts to arch off the bedroll, reeling in the pleasure that’s about to snap. the coil shatters into a thousand pieces as you dig your fingers into his curls once again. you don’t know if you were loud or not, you don’t know anything as a white veil had taken up your vision, pleasure coursing through your veins as your blood pounds within your ears.

the tent is silent, save for both of your heavy breathing. through half lidded eyes, you see him greedily lick around his lips, ensuring he didn’t waste a drop of the gift you’ve given him.

it takes a few moments for you to come back down to reality, your head swimming in the pleasure astarion hurtled you in. you watch as he places one last kiss against your cunt, slowly backing up on his haunches.

without breaking eye contact, he slips his still coated fingers in his mouth, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head as he savors the taste of you. a beat goes by and you think it’s over and time to head back to your own tent.

but he’s always been a selfish man.

“you know, i don’t think i’ve quite gotten my fill of you yet.” his voice sings in your ear. “i think i want a little more.”

“you might have to wait a bit.” the words flow out of you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at him. his eyes were still blown out — crazed. whenever he has that frenzied look in his eyes, his hunger is still strong and his sights are set on you.

“or, maybe not.” he tilts his head to the side. “let’s have sex so i can make a proper mess of you.”

“what? i-i’m not sure.” you frown slightly. the cramps had subsided, sure. but who’s to say that wouldn’t bring them back?

“think about it.” he drawls, taking off his shirt, showcasing his body. “coming a few times will be very beneficial. it’ll clear everything right out.”

“well.” you pause. realistically, there could be a truth in that. but who knew if your body would listen to logic anyway. and yet, “well i suppose it couldn’t hurt to try.”

“exactly, darling.” he smiles before a softer look falls onto you. “but if it does, you’ll let me know.”

it wasn’t a question. the underlying care he held for you was slipping through the cracks of the tantalizing facade he loved to put up. you nod your head in confirmation. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to test this theory out, especially watching him slowly untie his breeches. lithe fingers that were just inside of you untwisting the knots woven in the string.

his cock springs out from being stuffed away, begging for some sort of relief judging by the amount of precum that was pooling on its head.

he hastily lines himself up to your slick entrance, rubbing his tip around it before it kisses your swollen clit. you gasp out as your body tingles with electricity. after a baited breath, he starts to slide in agonizingly slow, carefully watching your face as he does so.

but you look away, the eye contact feeling a bit much — even after everything. he was just too pretty, his expressions too raw. every moment you held his gaze, the fire inside of you threatens to take over.

“you need to look at me, my sweet.” his cold fingers grasp your chin lightly, tilting your head so you had no choice but to look at him.

before, when you had first slept with astarion, things hadn’t been so intimate. of course, it was all very rushed. it was the end of a gruesome battle and tensions were high, not to mention alcohol was swirling around in both of your systems.

but this was different. so much time had passed since then — or at least, that’s what it felt like. it’s all been so intense since you first met the pale elf that you hardly believe it’s only been less than a few months.

and in that time, you two had gotten so close, really close. slowly prying each other's heart open with gentle, reassuring hands. something that had forged itself out of forced trust, blooming into a beautiful and vulnerable partnership.

“i’m here.” you whisper, finally looking at him. his eyes soften and you realize at some point you started to caress his cheek. your finger smooths over his soft, smooth skin before his lips meet the palm of your hand, pressing a kiss onto it.

“and thank the gods for that.” he whispers back with a pleased look. his hips were flush with yours, moving in slow and short movements so he didn’t overwhelm you. but every second he filled you up, you could feel the pain subsiding in your lower abdomen.

you let out a soft whine, clenching around him as he starts to go a little faster. his eyes trail from yours and down your neck, looking at the twin marks he left the last time he had you in his embrace.

“astarion-.” you gasp out, savoring the way he continues to roll his hips into you, molding your cunt perfectly to take him and him alone.

“yes, my love?” he whispers, pressing a delicate kiss against your neck, taking every ounce of his self control to not sink his teeth into you. but he was making you feel so much better, one bite couldn’t hurt, right? you tilt your neck to the side to show it off for him. he hesitates. “are you sure?”

“please.” a simple request he wouldn’t leave unfulfilled as his fangs dig into your neck, the same spot he drank from before. he sucks lightly, your mind clouding and filling with nothing but stinging pleasure.

his starts to thrust again — faster this time as he gets lost in the overwhelming sweetness of your blood. it fuels through his body, giving him the strength he normally needs to help keep you safe. but instead, he’s only using it to drive into you harder.

he pulls back from your neck with a gasp like he’s been shocked, blood dripping down the sides of his mouth. his attention shifts, watching his cock disappearing into your cunt, feeling you already start to gush around him, blood starting to soak around his length.

“so sweet.” the words barely leave his lips, but enough for you to hear it. his fingers move down to swirl against your clit, trying to give you the same pleasure you were giving him. “make a mess for me, my sweet.”

words escape you as moans take its place, his name a mantra you can’t stop yourself from repeating. the sting from the bite he gave you was rushing through your veins now, every sense of your nerves being heightened to places it’s never been — overwhelming pleasure coursing through your whole body.

you clench around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he can’t control his hips anymore, rutting against you as the pleasure finally consumes you both.

astarion’s eyes flutter shut as you cum around him, coating his cock in your bloody essence. once you stop fluttering around him, he quickly pulls out and cums all over your lower abdomen.

your head lolls back, coming down from the high he just gave you, aftershocks running down your body. astarion lightly trails his hands along you, a surge of energy overcoming him as he breathes in your scent once again.

“there, now that that’s settled,” he pauses, immediately sliding down and tucking his head back in between your thighs. he licks his lips quickly, his tongue darting across as his feast lays before him. “i’d like to resume my meal.”

taglist : @boogiebooboo @niqhtfell @collin-thegreat @zorosdimples @oikawabi-sabi @mammon-s (happy bday!) @moss-is-a-tasty-snack

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate smut #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #bg3 smut

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bluemoon-fever · 4 months ago

Text

needy

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

summary: steve rogers is a very needy man.

word count: 2.45k

warnings: fluff, smut, dub-con (reader is tipsy, but not drunk), unprotected sex, possessive steve, allusions to DD/lg (but not really), D/s undertones, daddy kink, soft!dom!steve, begging, hand job, oral (male and female receiving), rough sex, fingering, light choking, spitting, dacryphilia, praise kink, grinding, mention of safe words, nipple/breast play, cum play, creampie, aftercare, it's filth, but it's also fluffy MINORS DNI

a/n: so i've been having this in my head for over a week, and i'm excited to finally share. i also have something else planned with steve (maybe a mini series or something. i'm still planning). while all can read, i do write with black/poc readers in mind! i hope you all enjoy! Reblogs, comments, and likes are much appreciated! <3

not edited.

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL THIS POST. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on another site.

A symphony of giggles and clumsy steps lets Steve know that you’ve just arrived home. He’s at his desk, working on a new art piece. It’s a drawing of you sleeping soundly in your shared bed based on an image he snapped a few days ago. He goes to hide the drawing, wanting it to be a surprise for you when he’s done.

He hears you fumble with your phone and tell your friend through a fit of giggles that you made it home safe. Then, Steve hears the sound of you taking off your heels and walking into the kitchen. He sighs, waiting for you to finally finish up whatever you were doing and come back to him. It had been about three hours since he last saw you, and he had missed you.

On his days off, Steve cherishes your time together. It’s very rare that he gets days to be home, draw, and just relax, but when you told him you had plans to go to brunch with your friends, his mood soured a bit. He didn’t want to keep you from his friends, but he was feeling very selfish over you. He wanted you all to himself. This morning, he tried to convince you to stay in bed, but after about an extra 15 minutes of cuddles, you told him you had to get ready. He threw a pout at you that made you giggle, and you kissed his cheek all sweet before you got up to get ready. He watched as you got dressed and put makeup on which he constantly told you, “You don’t need it.”

“Thanks, babe, but I just wanted to be dolled up. It’s been forever since I’ve gone out.” Steve winces at your words. He had just gotten off a long mission, and since he had been back, he had been more focused on relaxing than taking you out on dates. Even though you never complained about it, he knew you were in need of a fun outing. That’s why he couldn’t be too mad that you were so quick to agree to brunch with your best friends. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to be out and about, and he didn’t want you to sacrifice your need for socialization just for him.

Well, he did, but he would never ask you to do that. Not when you’re his perfectly sweet, beautiful girlfriend.

Steve volunteered to drive you to brunch, but you said you already agreed to a carpool. When he volunteered to bring you back home, you shot that down (unintentionally). One of your friends agreed to be the designated driver. Steve held in a grunt, but his frustration dissipated slightly when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and lips. “I love you! I’ll be back before you know it.”

And here you were, but what was taking you so damn long?

Steve was about to rise until he heard you slightly stumble towards the room. Your cheeks were flushed red, a sign of the bottomless mimosas he knows you downed at brunch. Your lipstick was long gone, leaving a slight pink tint on your lips. The rest of your makeup looked fine, and you were actually glowing. Your outfit, a black mid-length, bodycon dress, clung to your curves perfectly. Steve felt his dick start to stir.

God, he wanted needed you so bad.

“Hi, baby,” you said. You held a bottle of water in your hand and took a sip as you walked in the room. You weren’t drunk, but he could tell you were tipsy. You threw a playful smirk as you sauntered towards him. “I missed you.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t want to give into your sweetness. While he had missed you and missed your body, he wanted you just as needy as he was. He wanted you to need him so bad you were begging for it. While his exterior remained stoic, something feral bloomed inside of him that he had to stifle his own smirk.

You moved directly in front of him and leaned down to give him a kiss. When you didn’t feel him return it, your face flashed concern. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You began to feel nervous under his gaze. Rather than say anything, you moved to straddle him and began to burrow into his lap. You faced him directly and wrapped your arms around his neck. When his expression didn’t budge, you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his scent.

God, you needed him so bad.

As you shrunk yourself in his lap, Steve gave a small smile. Seeing you become so little was making him harder. He knew after one drink that you were affectionate and needy. At events, you’d seek him out, attaching yourself to his side or finding some way to touch him. He had you right where he wanted you. You had mumbled something into his neck that took him from his own thoughts.

“What was that?” he asked, keeping his voice firm.

“How was your day?” you said softly, almost at a whisper. You turned your face and looked up into his sparkling blue eyes. You were so damn sweet he felt he was getting a cavity. “Are you enjoying being off?”

“It was fine,” he said, telling the truth. It was just fine. If you were with him all day, laying naked next to him, it would have been everything he needed. But seeing you concerned about him, being so sweet and kind, made him want to just pick you up and make sweet love to you in his bed. But a strong part of him didn’t want that; he wanted to ruin you and make you more pliant. “How was brunch?”

“It was nice,” you began, playing with the hairs in his beard. “But I really missed you, Daddy.”

Fuck, he thought. Here you were, his perfect girl, wrapped up perfectly in his lap and pliant. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped your face in his large hands and began to kiss you passionately. You didn’t even try to keep up, letting him push his tongue past your lips and claim your mouth. You began to whine, and Steve felt you begin to grind against his hard-on. He shifted his hands to your neck and pulled you back.

“If you missed me so much, baby girl, then show me.” Your eyes were blown wide with lust. Your lips swollen and pink. You nodded and began to pull his dick out of his sweatpants. You began stroking him, creating a steady rhythm that made Steve catch his breath. “Fuck angel.”

You shifted off his lap and moved his rolling chair back. You settled yourself between his legs. You began giving kitten licks to the tip of his cock before staring up at him with the kindest eyes; Steve had to fight the urge to blow a load on your face. You teased him a bit more with the licks before swallowing his own length down. Steve gripped the back of your head, pushing his length further down your throat. You struggled to take all of him, and the sensation of it made him pulse a bit down your throat. He pulled you off of him and took in your state. Your eyes began watering, your mascara starting to smudge under your eyes. Your mouth was wet with saliva. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you, seeing you ruined made further awakened a beast within him.

You reached for his cock, moving your mouth back on him. He watched in amazement as you tried to deep throat him on your own. You began looking up at him, your eyes looking as big as possible. How you managed to make yourself still look innocent while sucking his dick was something.

“Look at my pretty girl, sucking her Daddy’s cock. You’re doing so good.” You keened over his praise. He watched as you attempted to move your hand under your dress to gain some relief, but he grabbed both of your hands and held them above you. He removed your mouth off of him as gently as he could. You stared up at him waiting for his next words.

“Get on the bed.” He let your hands go and watched as you moved quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve didn’t even bother making it, leaving your bed sheets at the foot of your mattress. You placed your hands in your lap. He got up and cupped your face in his hand. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before his hand moved to pull the thin strap of your dress down. “How are we feeling?”

“Green,” you told him. You gave a small smile. “I need you.”

“I know. Be patient, baby.” If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black…

He pushed your shoulders back as a sign for you to lay back on the bed. He moved to pull your dress off, you lifting your hips to help him. You were left in just a lacy pink thong and strapless bra. You moved to pull the bra off and placed it on the floor next to your bed. You grabbed his hand and placed it on his chest. You were so desperate for some sort of relief.

Steve began massaging your breast, his fingers pulling at your nipple. You let out a breathy moan from the sensation, happy to finally feel something. Steve’s eyes darkened when he saw your hand slip inside your panties, and you began to play with yourself.

“How bad do you need me? How bad do you need your Daddy?” he asked, almost mockingly.

“I need you s-so bad,” you cried out. “I’ve missed you so much. Thought about you the whole time at brunch. Please, I need you.”

Steve removed his hands, causing you to whine. When you looked up at him, you saw him frantically stripping out of his sweatpants and white tank top. He didn’t even bother with underwear, secretly praying that you came home exactly like this, and he would have easy access.

His mouth began an assault on your neck. He pulled your hand out and roughly pulled your panties down, flinging them somewhere in the room. He kissed down your body, spending precious time kneading and kissing on your breasts before he found himself in between your legs. Without asking, you opened yourself up to him. “Please, please, please,” you whined.

Steve dove in, essentially making out with your pussy. You cried out, and he placed his left hand on your stomach to hold you down. His other hand began to push into your core, finding that spongy spot that instantly had your hips bucking. He looked up at you through his thick lashes, watching your face contort into pure ecstasy. He found your bundle of nerves and began to suck while continuing to play with you like you were his favorite instrument (you were). You immediately began singing out, a sign you were close. It was music to Steve’s ears, your incoherent cries.

Steve lifted up, removed his fingers from your core, and watched as your face fell in betrayal. “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be on my dick,” he spat at you. “Open.”

You opened your mouth, and Steve spit down your throat. He captured into another filthy kiss, you grabbing onto his back to pull you into him, trying to become one. He lined up himself at your entrance before pressing in quickly, filling you up quickly. You broke the kiss to moan, tears spilling from your eyes from the pressure. Steve felt himself grow harder as he began to lick at your tears. You felt so defiled, so nasty, and you couldn’t get enough. You began scratching at his back, desperate for him to move, for him to finally let you come.

“D-daddy, please. Please move. Please!” you begged. “Please, I need it. I need to cum. Please let me cum!” Tears began to spill from your eyes. Your face was so utterly fucked out that Steve could have came right then in there. But you were giving him everything he wanted, and now, he finally could oblige.

He began roughly fucking into you, pulling your legs into his arm to change his angle. Your back arched off the bed, and your moans grew louder. Normally, Steve would cover your mouth, not wanting to face your neighbors after this, but he didn’t care. He wanted the whole world to hear him fucking his perfect, sweet girlfriend on this beautiful Saturday afternoon. You grabbed at your breast and Steve brought his face down to one, popping one of your hard nipples into his mouth. You clenched harder around him.

“Steve, I’m s-so close. May I cum? Please, may I cum?” you asked so nicely.

“Yes.” You came with a cry, your body shaking as Steve continued to fuck into you. Seeing you fall apart gave him a second wind and he kept fucking into you. You fell into a second orgasm, your eyes beginning to close in exhaustion, but Steve didn’t relent. He pulled out and turned you on your side like a ragdoll as you laid limp on the bed. He immediately rutted back into you, his pace relentless. His release was building up. “Come on, baby. Come with Daddy. Just give me one more.”

Steve came with a roar. He looked down at your coated juices on his dick and fucked it back into you. He couldn’t wait to see himself leaking out of you. Honestly, if you gave him a minute, he could go again and have you filled with him for days. The idea of you filled with him, possibly making his child made him cumming again.

He collapsed on top of you, softly kissing your face. You started giggling before turning and grabbing his face in your hand. You captured his lips in a long, soft kiss. You whined as he pulled out of you, and Steve shifted next to you. Looking down at your legs, his eyes darkened seeing his spend leak out of you. He gathered it and pushed it back inside of you. You winced at how sensitive you were, but Steve knew you loved when he’d play with your mixed releases.

Steve rose and grabbed your water bottle, making you drink a considerable amount before placing it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He lifted you up and placed both of you under the covers of your shared bed. He pulled you into his chest as you lazily rubbed circles into his chest and him on your shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered before softly kissing at his chest and closing your eyes.

“I love you too.” Steve was happy. His perfect girl was finally in his arms, just like he needed.

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x black reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x black reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader

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januaryembrs · 4 months ago

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MY BABY, HERE ON EARTH | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [BONUS]

Description: the NINE months of pregnancy

Word count: 10.9k

warnings: pregnancy duh, babies, giving birth, c-section, ummm body fluids? lots of emotions, nausea & sickness, talks of weight gain and stretch marks.

authors note: y'all... there you have it. I will be back to finish their story but until then this is my goodbye piece until I have finished my hiatus to write my own book and start uni (again). I can't wait to take these two (three) on the final lap they deserve but for now.. I hope you enjoy pookies being pookies.

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MONTH ONE. The one where she finds out.

She hadn’t meant to find out when she did. It had been just a routine implant swap that she’d had twice already in the last six years.

“Any blood clotting, any pain at all?” The nurse asked, jotting down a few notes on her form as she sat back on the bed and waiting for the numbing cream to take hold.

She shook her head. “It’s weird as hell to feel and when I think about it too long it freaks me out, but no, no pain,” She said and the nurse chuckled, nudging her glasses up her nose.

“And finally, is there any chance that you’re pregnant?” She asked, no doubt having rehearsed the same script about thirty times that day alone.

Bugsy gave her a flat smile, “Small chance, but I guess that’s what this is for, huh?”

The nurse looked at her then, as if mulling over the words before she said something, “Small chance?”

“I mean, nothing is a hundred percent effective,” Bugsy tried to weasel her way out of the awkward conversation, because she had absolutely no intention of letting the nurse know her and Spencer had been at it like bunnies since the Hotch had forced them to take medical leave. Who knew having so much time on her hands with her very handsome boyfriend would have that effect?

The nurse pursed her lips, and already the woman felt like she’d said too much.

“Alright, we’re going to do a routine test, just need a quick urine sample,” Bugsy felt her cheeks heat, though she was in no position to argue. Her discomfort must have been more obvious than she thought, however, as the nurse went on to explain, “If I give you this implant and there’s a fertilised egg, it can lead to ectopic pregnancy, in which case you’ll need surgery. Trust me, honey, peeing in a cup is your easy option,”

She gave the practitioner a small nod, wondering if she needed to message Spencer to say she’d be running a little late. She knew he was likely doing the sudoku in the waiting room magazine, since he’d refused to let her come alone. And even though she’d told him she would be fine on her own, he’d seen through it, had even offered to get her ice cream on the way home for putting on a brave face.

And yet her face was nothing short of horror struck not even half an hour later when the nurse showed her the stick with empathetic eyes.

“Congratulations,” The woman said cautiously, a fake smile plastered on her face as the girl stared at her, utterly gobsmacked.

“But, I thought…” Bugsy stammered, running a finger over where the nurse had removed her implant, “But I had everything ready, I never let it get late, I did what I was supposed to,”

“You said it yourself, honey, nothing is a hundred percent effective besides abstinence-”

“That’s just what parents say to make sure their kids aren’t banging every Tom, Dick and Harry out there!” Bugsy was near screeching, the worry in her tone clear as a bell and her chest hot with panic.

Pregnant. She was pregnant, there was no way she could be…

Except there was exactly a way she could be, seeing as she struggled even on a dry spell to keep her hands off Spencer longer than a few days at a time. And he was just as bad.

The nurse huffed, rifling through her drawers for a handful of pamphlets. She passed them to Bugsy whose mouth was still bobbing with more expletives she held herself back from saying, and it wasn’t until she saw the happy couple on the front of the first one, holding a very swollen and round bump that she thought she might be sick.

Comical timing, she hissed at herself.

“There are always options, sweetheart. Abortion is legal in Virginia, if that is what you decide, however there is always information and support that we recommend looking into before you make a solid decision,” Her response was professional even though her expression was compassionate, and Bugsy knew she must have looked scared because that was exactly how she felt and she had little to no room to hide it.

Abortion? Is that what she wanted? Except it wasn’t just about what she wanted, it was what Spencer wanted too. Even if he would argue against that being the case in a heartbeat, even if he would tell her she had every right to be the only one to make a decision, no matter what he thought. But maybe it wasn’t so much about needing his opinion for that reason, and more it was because she had absolutely no clue what to do and Spencer was always good at making sense of the things she didn’t know how to deal with.

She nodded silently, her mouth dry as sandpaper as she took the leaflets and stuffed them in the bottom of her purse where she hoped Spencer wouldn’t go looking.

She barely remembered standing on liquid legs, barely remembered the way her chest felt tight and her head spun as she thought of the fact her body had a baby growing inside it.

No, it wasn’t a baby. Not yet. It was likely the size of a grain of sand, miniscule. That wasn’t a baby, that was nothing.

But it would be. Eventually. It would be hers and Spencer’s baby.

And she wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him the second she saw him there in the waiting room, his head shooting up the second the door opened and she left looking a little ill and shaken.

“All done? Everything go as normal?” He preened, standing immediately as she neared him, his hand immediately weaving around her shoulder to pull her close by. Gently, ofcourse, because she had a big, fat bandage where her implant should have been.

“Y-yeah,” She stammered, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in her throat. Yet she knew immediately that he did. Because he leaned in to give her a delicate kiss to her forehead not even a moment later, “C-can we go straight home, I’m not feeling ice cream anymore,”

He looked worried, as anyone who knew her would because Bugsy turning down free pudding was a blaring red siren in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” He said, stroking a gentle hand over the side of her head and leading her where he’d parked the car.

And it was that worry, the same cloud that hung over him for months with Scratch and his mom and the Dirty Dozen and everything else that was put onto his shoulder that made her shut her mouth right then and there. He didn’t need one other thing to contend with, not when he was already carrying the weight of the world.

And so she wouldn’t tell him. Not yet at least.

MONTH TWO. The one with the scan.

“Spence, would you stop worrying, I’m sure everything will be fine,” She urged in the gentlest tone she could muster. Yet she was a hypocrite, because she felt her hands shaking as she sat in the chair, trying to adjust her sleeves for something to do and Spencer stopped his leg from bouncing.

Looking over at her, he sighed, holding out a large palm and weaving her fingers in between his and she flicked a look over at him, her own eyes nervous.

“I’m sorry,” He gave her a guilty smile, “If it helps, it’s half excitement too,”

And she smiled then, shaking her head as he squeezed her hand gently.

“Me too,” She confessed, looking down at her stomach that didn’t seem all too different than usual. She’d felt a few symptoms up until this point, a bit of nausea but that was nothing she couldn’t handle, headaches here and there. But it wasn’t anything exactly life changing that she’d expected when she’d always thought of pregnancy.

If anything, none of it felt real quite just yet. Having only been a few weeks since she’d told Spencer, they’d spent the majority of the time searching for houses and appointments and gynaecologists and neonatal care, and whenever they were free, they were trying to get used to the idea of the two of them as parents.

“Did you know they’re around half an inch long by now,” Spencer said, his hazel eyes falling to where her shirt hid her stomach that had yet to change no matter how many times he stared at it, “About a third of that is made up of their head,”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” She shrugged, stroking her thumb along the edge of his pinky finger, “It’s your kid, they’re going to have biggest brain out there,”

He snickered, lifting her hand to press a kiss to the back of it softly, “If they have even half your brains, we’re going to be raising the next Galileo,”

“Mr and Mrs Reid,” Their heads shot up at the midwife, Bugsy fumbling for words to correct him as the two of them stood up to greet him with bashful smiles. She didn’t need to look at Spencer’s face to know he’d gone bright red.

“It’s uh, Prentiss-Reid,” Spencer spluttered as they entered and the nurse looked again at his chart with wide eyes, his cheeks a little pink himself and he ushered the two of them into his office with a smile.

“So it is, I do apologise,” He said earnestly, holding a hand out to gesture Bugsy to sit on the reclining bed, “I hate to stereotype, but usually when dad books the appointments, its because their wives are already doing a hundred other things,”

“It’s okay, it happens,” She said with an awkward chuckle, avoiding Spencer’s eyes because they still hadn’t had that talk. Even though she knew her mother would frown at her grandchild being born a bastard, she didn’t care much for Elizabeth’s opinion. It wasn’t like marriages had ever led to good things for her mother anyway.

She hopped up onto the examination cot, her heart quivering just the slightest in worry because the smell of bleach and rubber made the whole thing real. Until then, having a grain of rice growing inside her seemed like a fever dream since she’d only had a handful of side effects, throwing up could have easily been passed off as bad chicken, the head aches could have just been her eyes straining from using her computer too much.

“Okay, everything feels okay, Mom? Nothing concerning at all?” And then the midwife said things like that, mom, and the part of her that almost forgot she was pregnant came to a screeching halt.

She’d be a mom. Someone would call her mom. The thought of it made her suck in a breath.

“Uh, no.” She cleared her throat and felt Spencer grab her hand, “Morning sickness is kicking my ass, but nothing worrying,”

The nurse chuckled, and she felt Spencer rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm, his eyes burning into the side of her head.

“Well, if it’s alright, I need you to lift your shirt up a little so we can have a see what’s going on,” He said with a kind smile, and she realised then he’d slipped latex gloves over his hands, and brandished a bottle of gel.

She nodded absently, doing as he said and lifting her shirt to sit under her breasts, drawing the hem of her skirt down so he had a space to apply. And the second he did she sucked in breath through her nose, the cold of the air conditioning chilling her to her marrow, and she tried telling herself that’s why her hands were shaking.

She felt Spencer’s fingers curve through her hair, and she reminded herself to breathe, looking over at him with nervous eyes she hoped he didn’t see straight through. But judging by the way he scooted the chair forward and gave her an encouraging smile, she guessed he’d seen the flicker of doubt in an instant.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be fine,” He murmured, his own fear buried deep somewhere she couldn’t see anymore the second she had been the one to look to him for help. She knew she wanted this, knew she’d always dreamed of Spencer and her having their happily ever after. She knew whenever she’d let herself think of a little boy with chocolate curls and hazel eyes that she wanted all of that and more.

But it was all so… real. Like seeing a movie come to life, and she was starring centre stage. Her body wasn’t a disposable shell that held thirty plus years of stupid mistakes and regrets and tattoos she’d decided she hated now. Her body had a whole other human inside it.

The midwife clicked the machine on, the transducer wand ready in his hand as he gently put it on her lower stomach, barely a few centimetres from her panties, and she wondered why they showed the wand roaming over the woman’s belly button on tv shows since that was entirely wrong and not nearly as embarrassing. She let out a shaky breath, and Spencer stroked her head again, forcing her to give him an unsure look, like she was trying to calm herself for his sake but couldn’t.

His eyes were anxious though he squeezed her again with a smile and she saw it immediately, like he too was trying to be brave for her.

She had never loved him so much.

“Apologies for the shock, I know the gel can be a little cold,” The nurse said with a grin, and it was only then she realised the screen had lit up with a black and white image, one she’d seen a thousand times when she’d studied neonatal procedures for her degree.

She knew that was her womb lining, and that was the amniotic fluid and that right there-

Bugsy froze, and judging by the way Spencer’s hand tightened around her own, he had too. She felt her mouth drop with a laugh of shock, and she sat up slightly to take a closer look at the monitor.

“And there is baby,” The midwife said, his expression warming as he watched Spencer’s stand up to lean over the bed, not once letting go of the woman’s hand, the two of them utterly enraptured in the screen, “Probably about the size of a raspberry,”

And Bugsy laughed, her eyes lined with tears as she looked up at Spencer’s equally wetted hues. He was grinning from ear to ear when he looked down at her, and it wasn’t long before he brought his lips to her forehead, his nose and throat burning with a held cry.

“Do you hear that? A whole raspberry already?” She said, her voice wobbling and he giggled, sitting back in his seat and rubbing his cheeks with his sleeve. “I am good at this cooking thing, might as well call me an easy bake oven,”

Spencer shook his head with another chuckle, his eyes trailing back to the little blob on the screen that looked more like a toy alien than anything else, and held her hand between both of his like he was in prayer.

Because Spencer never believed in anything sacred and divine until he met Bugsy.

MONTH THREE. The one where they tell everyone.

“What are you doing?” Bugsy jumped out of her skin as JJ all but materialised behind her. She looked over her shoulder guiltily, her hand still half way through pouring out her mug of coffee Derek had handed her before he left to get lunch.

She turned to see the blonde with her own steaming mug of decaf in her hands. She’d been taking the lack of caffeine much better this time around since having a second baby to breastfeed, considering she was nothing short of evil when she’d had Henry, which had been Spencer’s words not Bugsy’s. And it wasn’t as if the woman could blame her. She was grouchy when she didn’t get her regular dose even before being pregnancy, Derek had once gotten a kick to the shin when he’d disturbed her on a day she’d been too busy to grab one on her way to the office.

She was a fiend for the bitter god. And everyone knew it. Which was exactly why JJ’s eyebrows were all but raised into her hairline seeing the girl who would usually be in the stages of withdrawal by now tipping the drink away.

“Uh, the milk tasted funky,” She excused, though the way JJ narrowed her eyes at the poor excuse told her it hadn’t passed by a mile.

“Right, the milk that Hotch picked up this morning?” JJ pursed her lips, sliding her own mug onto the side and jutting her hip.

And as if he were summoned, Hotch sidled up to the kitchenette, Rossi and Tara hot on his heels as they flicked through some paperwork, and his head shot up the minute he heard his name.

His eyes trailed to where the girl flipped her mug upside on the drying rack, and his brow furrowed.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, and she huffed in response, wiping her hands on her jeans.

“Yes, I’m fine,” She grumbled, shaking her head, “I don’t know what you’re all so wound up about, it’s not like I’m dying, I just don’t feel like coffee today-”

“Oh my god,” Penelope gasped where she crept behind Hotch with her very favourite octopus mug in tow, one that was nearly thrown to the floor when she heard the words pour from the girl’s mouth, “Are you sick? Like in the body or in the head? Rossi, check her pulse, I’m going to get a thermometer-”

“Pen, I’m fine,” She said unconvincingly and she tried to skirt past the group that seemed to have her surrounded. Seeing Spencer pulling up the rear in search of lunch she felt herself sigh in relief, because he would think of a much better excuse than she ever could.

She had barely been able to keep her mouth shut for the months they had been secretly dating, and had relished in the peace it brought her when everyone knew. But the midwife had said it was common to keep things under wraps at least until the first trimester was over. Apparently the million of questions that were sure to be heading their way would cause her unnecessary stress, though she’d argue having to sneak to the sink every morning and dispose of a delicious looking coffee was torture enough.

“What’s up?” Spencer asked as she ducked towards him, his hand consciously wrapping around her waist, and she huffed again, looking to him with a silent plea.

“They’re profiling me,” Bugsy said, and he felt his gut knot because he should have known it wouldn’t be long before they caught on. It was their job to pick apart out of the ordinary behaviour, and Bugsy going teetotal on caffeine was definitely something of a head turner.

“I told you that diet would cause a stir,” He joked, hoping they bought his pathetic attempt of an excuse, as he gave her side a gentle squeeze, and hoped that he could lead her back to her desk like she was a lost little lamb being prowled upon by nosy wolves that rarely took no for an answer.

And it almost worked, almost, until JJ snapped her fingers and pointed at his wandering hand.

“See that, that is the fourth time you’ve been all touchy and weird this week,” The blonde surprised, her brows furrowing, “Bugsy hates PDA, usually by now she would have whacked you over the head and called you a perv,”

Bugsy smashed her lips together because she couldn’t exactly disagree with her. That’s exactly what she usually did. Usually would tell Spencer to stop being so horny in a place of work even if she felt her cheeks heat at the delicate grabs of her stomach fat.

But whether it was the little bean now around the size of a small lemon that had made her mellow and affectionate, or whether the lack of caffeine really was making her feel vulnerable, she wasn’t sure. And the whole thing was only made worse by Hotch’s eyes burning into the side of her, and she felt the trail of his gaze head straight for her stomach.

“Come to think of it, I only saw you with a lime and soda at Savannah’s birthday last week,” Rossi pointed out, wagging his finger in her direction, his brown hues widening in thought, “When Penelope asked if you wanted tequila you said-”

“I’m all tequila-ed out,” Penelope chimed in with the same frown, “But that can’t be, when have you ever been tequila-ed out, that’s like impossible, even that night we had to help Spencer get you in the shower because you’d thrown up everywhere you were demanding more,”

She felt her cheeks heat thinking about her twenty ninth birthday, or atleast the parts of it she could remember of it before the rest of the gaps were filled with black spaces of time that she guessed had been robbed from her by the shots she piled on.

“Maybe I just didn’t feel like tequila, can a girl not live in the moment?” She tried to rebuttal, only Penelope gave her a blank look that told her to try again because the Bugsy she knew would slap her for saying something so dumb. She opened her mouth to correct her again, but Hotch beat her to it.

“You know Hayley got really affectionate a couple months into being pregnant,” The man said, his eyes swirling with something proud and warm when he saw Bugsy’s head flick to him like she’d been caught red handed, which they had. “Though, if you ask me I think she was just a little sorry for herself that I took the coffee away,”

There was a beat of silence, and the room held its breath. Even Tara, who had only known them the best part of a few months raised her hand to her mouth in shock, and Bugsy shot a look at Spencer in utter defeat.

“We tried,” She said with her shoulders shrugging, and it was then that the office was filled with a piercing scream that turned a fair few heads and the infamous octopus mug was thrown clear across the kitchen floor, one of his tentacles snapping clean off.

“OH MY GOD, IT’S TRUE? YOU’RE PREGNANT?” Penelope wailed like a banshee, and Bugsy couldn’t help but break into a smile, nodding at the woman who screeched again and yanked her in for a tight hug, “Oh my god, there's going to be three of you, three geniuses, three little einsteins that I want to smush together and kiss all over-”

“Garcia, I think she needs air if she’s going to make another little genius,” Rossi said, and the tech analyst pulled away aghast, cupping Bugsy’s face that was still grinning ear to ear with a chuckle.

“Oh my god, I didn’t hurt you did I? Or the baby- Oh my god there’s a baby in there!”

Hotch wrapped a rare yet tender arm around Spencer’s shoulder, giving him a little pat and a “Congratulations” while Rossi smiled knowingly between the couple and JJ had her turn smothering Bugsy in a tearful hug.

And by the time Derek had walked into the office with his everything bagel hanging between his teeth and a tea in his hands, his onyx hues fell to Penelope, JJ and Bugsy exchanging weepy words while Tara handed them tissues with her own sparkling eyes.

“What fresh hell did I miss?”

MONTH FOUR. The one where she starts looking different.

She huffed, her fingers gripping the edge of her jeans and yanking them up her thighs as far as they would go. She felt like everything had shrunk in the wash, or like she was trying on a doll’s wardrobe. Surely she hadn’t gained that much weight in just a few months, but then again she’d been all but living off chocolate pudding cups since the Bean decided it wanted sugar, sugar and more sugar.

She grunted in annoyance, her arms and back aching where she was leaning over to pull at the infernal things. She barely had a second to pout childishly, before kind hands were wrapping around her stomach and a mouth kissed at her neck tenderly.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” His voice was honey sweet, thick and goopy with love overflowing as he pulled her to his chest, his hand caressed the bump that seemed to be getting in the way of her and her favourite jeans. Spencer knew she tried to ignore the symptoms that almost every woman felt during pregnancy, he knew she compared herself to how JJ had handled both pregnancies gracefully and looked better than ever even as a mother of two. He knew she hated complaining because she didn’t want him to think she was miserable carrying their kid, but god was she getting sick of her clothes pinching her in.

“I’m getting fatter,” Bugsy grumbled, her eyes darting to the vivid lines that had deepened into the crease of her hips within a few weeks and she winced, “I’m not even halfway, how does this kid want to eat pudding all the time?”

Spencer frowned, shaking his head slightly because he refrained from telling her what a silly statement it was, knowing it would only make her feel worse, and instead pressed delicate kisses to her jaw, squeezing her closer. He’d noticed the stretch marks, just as he’d noticed her face and hips gathering weight a bit more than usual, and was just grateful there was even more Bugsy to love.

“You’re eating for two, you’re literally growing a whole life inside of you. I think that is more than enough grounds to eat whatever you want,” He murmured, biting the inside of his cheek when she sighed as though she didn’t believe him, “Honey, clothes are replaceable. What your body’s trying to do is create a little bubble around you and this little pudding fiend so you can feed them when they’re out here,”

Bugsy knew he was right. She’d spent well over a hundred hours researching hormone levels and how pregnant bodies are changing all hours of the day to accommodate the foetus, she knew it was normal for things to look different. Had it been on anyone else she wouldn’t have batted an eye. But it didn’t make the sting of seeing her body morph into one she didn’t recognise any less harsh.

“I know,” She hummed somewhat defeated, turning in his arms to press her face in his neck, “I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast is all,”

Spencer smiled warmly, because every day he thought she had gotten impossibly prettier. He hadn’t believed in ‘pregnancy glow’, in fact he’d chalked it down to some sort of innate scientific survival tactic that associated a vulnerable woman with looking angelic, at least not until he’d woken up to see her stomach protruding from her pyjama top in a clear curve shape and he thought her face looked like she should be in some Monet painting, dozing in a field like a wide eyed doe.

“I know, it’s a lot for anyone to go through. But you know I’m so grateful for you,” Spencer said, and he felt her smile without even seeing it. Her fingers wove into his hair at the nape of his neck, kissing a trail up his chest because he suspected she looked somewhat embarrassed. “Besides, I’m not complaining. It means I get to do this,”

She felt two large hands grab at the fat of her bum cheeks and she squeaked in surprise, even though she heard him laugh in her ear at her reaction. That had been another thing she’d noticed, and how could she not. Penelope said just the other day that she was ‘baking a bun in the oven and cake in the trunk’ with a little wink, and she’d had to excuse herself quickly for lack of a response.

And Spencer wasn’t lying. He wasn’t complaining with any of it, not by a long shot.

MONTH FIVE. The one with the mood swings.

“So you guys really don’t want to know the sex?” JJ asked, sipping on her tea as she chatted with Bugsy who was balancing biscuits on top of her now protruding stomach. It was as if overnight the baby had stretched out enough to make themselves a damn penthouse suite in Bugsy’s tummy.

“We want it to be a surprise, either way we’re going to love the little bean, even if they do keep kicking my bladder at four am,” She said, balancing the tenth cookie on the tower she’d made, reaching over carefully for another one, “I swear if the bean kicks my cookie tower I’m giving them a hideous name,”

“It’s good to feel the baby kicking at this stage, it helps develop their joints and bones so they’re stronger when they’re born.” Spencer inputted helpfully as he slid a fresh mug of decaf tea over to her desk.

“Next time the baby kicks your uterus walls, Spence, gimme a shout and we’ll discuss how great it is,” Bugsy said with a small smile and he paused, looking at JJ as if he was caught in a trap, suddenly well aware of his mistake.

“Point taken,” He conceded quietly, and JJ chuckled because she’d seen Will just as hesitant to piss her off in both of her pregnancies. And she knew Bugsy would never hold it against him, that Spencer’s head just ran away from him sometimes.

She halted her little game and carefully leaned over to draw the mug to her lips, too impatient to wait for it to cool down fully and she barely spotted Derek swooping around the corner of the desk.

“Good morning, Mommies and Daddy Genius,” He greeted in that chirpy tone, his hand snatching up the top cookie and scarfing it down before she could protest.

Bugsy shared her snacks all the time, it was a no brainer that they took a bite here and there out of each other's goodies before they could get a smack to the wrist. And Derek had certainly noticed a few of his Rolos missing the last time he bought a pack, and a particularly cheerful Bugsy smirking at him over her desk.

It wasn’t a huge deal, and yet Bugsy sat up in a gasp, and the entire biscuit tower fell to a crumbling mess on the floor.

“Well done, princess, Hotch is going to-” Derek stopped mid sentence when he saw her sniffle, and his eyes widened at the sight of her eyes glistening with tears, “Bugsy- are you okay-”

“My cookies! Derek!” She whined pitifully, and she buried her face in her hands, “My cookies, I was so going to eat the shit out of those, they were gonna be so good, Derek,”

Morgan looked gobsmacked, his head whipping between the woman leaning against the desk with an understanding smile and Spencer who was already rubbing her shoulders with his lips smashed together, trying not to laugh.

“Honey, it’s okay, he didn’t mean to,” Her partner tried to coo, though he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the way Derek scrambled to draw out his wallet.

“I’ll get you more, Bug, I swear, they sell them by the deli down the street, right?” He asked, jittering in his bones because he’d never made her cry before. He worried or a moment Hotch might just put him on sabbatical leave for such an offense. Emily would probably fly to Virginia just to cave his skull in, “I’m sorry, I’ll go get more, I’ll even get you strawberry milk-”

“Chocolate milk,” She wailed, and JJ slid a box of tissues over to the pitiful girl with a silent snicker. She remembered all too well the feeling of unexplained emotion crashing over her, and she didn’t doubt that the tough faced Bugsy would be back to normal any moment soon.

“Chocolate milk, got it,” Derek said, with a nod, and he all but darted for the elevators, in a hurry Spencer somewhat suspected was down to the fact he feared for his life if Penelope got a whiff of what happened.

Bugsy sniffled for a moment, drawing a tissue out the box and dabbing her eyes sullenly, her feelings slightly worse for wear even if she had a small inkling of doubt that she was really so torn up about the cookies as her body made it seem.

But she had been thinking about them all morning; made herself promise she would only eat them once she got the stack fifteen high at least.

“Are you okay, baby?” Spencer asked, his gaze empathetic as she snuffled her sobs into the palm of her hands. He wasn’t too worried, even if he hated seeing her cry just as much as anyone else did. And it wasn’t that he didn’t take her seriously. But when she’d been crying just that morning because her shower gel spilled on the floor and tipped almost all the way out, or even when she’d stepped on a snail walking into the building and smushed it into the ground, effectively killing it, he seemed to be getting used to her mood swings.

She sniffed woefully, “I was really looking forward to those, and now I think I was too mean to Derek and…” Her eyes glistened with fresh tears, and the sight of it made Spencer sigh, leaning forward to kiss the side of her head because it must be difficult being so out of your usual self for nine months.

“And what?” He prompted softly. Only she burst out crying again, reaching forward to drag him into a hug that told him she was feeling extra sorry for herself.

He wouldn’t blame her. Would sit through every weep and sob and tantrum if it meant he got to show her even more times over that he loved her endlessly.

However he did have to hold in the giggle when she wailed; “I think I really do want strawberry milk,”

MONTH SIX. The one with the false labour.

She had been in Hotch’s office when she felt it.

Embarrassingly so, her first thought was trapped gas. She’d gotten a lot of that considering the baby had decided it craved spice, and had been planning to excuse herself when it felt like her whole abdomen seized as if she’d been hit with a particularly nasty period cramp.

Her hand flew to her stomach where she sat with Hotch reviewing her latest reports, the same quarterly check the whole team was mandated to have with their boss since Cruz became section chief. Hotch didn’t miss a beat, the folder in his hand hitting the desk in an instant as he tensed, looking at her with caution.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and she held her breath for a moment. Spencer was out with Rossi giving a lecture in Washington DC, JJ had the day off for her mom’s birthday, Penelope and Morgan were taking Tara to lunch to show her a few more of their regular spots. It was just them and Anderson in the office for the next few hours, possibly the worst time out of any to have an empty floor.

“Yeah- I just, woah,” Her stomach gave another lurch of a painful twist and her hand slapped on the table to keep herself steady. She breathed through the pain, because she’d had much worse only that wasn’t what was making her heart race. It was fear. Because she wasn’t due for another twelve weeks at least, and while she’d heard of baby’s being born as premature as six months, she knew premy babies suffered major complications later on, let alone the stress their body goes under during the actual birth.

Bean, as the team had affectionately named the baby since the couple had firmly decided they didn’t want to know the sex, was about the size of red cabbage, tiny in the scheme of things even though it felt like just a few minutes ago they were a grain of rice.

“Okay, it’s okay, stay calm,” Hotch said in a smooth voice, gentle yet reassuring as he rounded his desk in a flash and put his hand on her shoulder, “Do you feel like you need to use the toilet? Any back ache or irritability?”

Bugsy breathed out through her nose as her lungs jittered with nerves, “N-no, I don’t need the bathroom, why would that matter?”

Aaron stroked a large kind hand down her spine, watching her face scrunch in pain for a second time, and he slowly began directing her towards the door, taking small steps so she wasn’t rushing. “Needing to use the bathroom is an early sign of labour, it’s your body's way of helping expand your pelvis to accommodate the head. Any back ache or frustration at all?”

He didn’t care that he’d had to repeat himself, not even when he was usually so against it, because he could feel the own unease rising in his throat like bile even if he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible.

He would be damned if he let her see how worried he was, and so he swallowed heavily, holding his other hand out for her to take when they approached the stairs. Anderson was on his feet in seconds when he saw his unit chief leading the woman with a tightly concealed frown, fumbling around for his phone.

“Agent Prentiss?” He exclaimed, darting around the mess of chairs and paper and desks to approach them, “Would you like me to call Dr Reid? An ambulance, perhaps?”

“She's alright, I’m driving her to the ER, thank you Anderson,” Aaron responded politely, his hand still resting on her back, and the agent nodded, digging around for his keys.

“I can drive, if you’d like to ride in the back with her,” Grant offered with worried eyes as Bugsy’s face crumpled in agony again, and Hotch’s head whipped to her, and his composure crumbled for a moment.

“Bugsy, hey, it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay, honey,” He cooed, and Anderson was quick to open the glass doors, “Did you pack a bag at all-”

“No, Spencer told me I should but I said it was too early, why is that man always right,” She grumbled, her footsteps weary and jittery as the three of them got into the elevator.

Hotch fought a smile, trying to remember everything he’d memorised before Hailey had Jack. The 5-1-1 rule blared through his head, and he glanced at his watch for a fraction of a second, and he wondered for a moment if he was going to have to write off a company vehicle for the fact his youngest agent gave birth in the back seat.

“I’m afraid that’s just how Reid operates,” Hotch said, pulling his phone out to dial the man in question and let him know where they were headed, “It’s probably nothing, Hailey was getting cramps all the time once she reached her third trimester, but we’ll get you checked out to be safe,”

“Really?” She looked at him with pitiful eyes and he nodded with a tight smile, committing to his illusion of calmness even if he swore he hadn’t felt so scared in months.

Because it wasn’t just Bugsy anymore, it was Bugsy and her baby. Her and Reid’s baby. The two people who deserved their happy ending more so than anyone else he knew.

And he felt her hand slip into his then as she accepted his answer, in fact she didn’t let go the entire time she waited on Spencer and Aaron was in no rush to leave her side. Even when she lay back on the table and had the midwife checking everything over, he stayed by her head (no doubt to avoid a very awkward conversation), stroked her hair when she fretted through a few more cramps, even when Spencer burst in through the door with Morgan at his heels looking like the two of them had just ran a marathon.

“Is everything okay- what’s wrong- do you need fluids- do you need ice-” Spencer rushed on his odd breath, his chest puffing with inhales, and he pretended he wasn’t seeing stars floating across his vision.

“I’m assuming by your reaction you’re dad,” The nurse said, pulling off the blue gloves and dropping her mask from her mouth.

“Yes, he is, he’s dad,” Morgan filled in for him as Spencer all but fell back against the wall, because he really should have drank something other than soda and coffee this morning. He was close to swaying on his feet when he stepped over to his girlfriend, and she took his hand in the her own, or atleast the one that wasn’t occupied by Hotch’s tight hold.

“Don’t worry, everything is alright with mom and baby,” She said, noting down a few things on her chart and the four of them took an audible sigh of relief, “Braxton Hicks contractions are very common in your final trimester, it probably felt like a lot because your baby is moving to into the anterior position ready for birth,”

Bugsy’s head flopped back against the pillow in comfort and she forced herself to take a few deep breaths, willing her heart rate to go back to normal. Braxton Hicks, she should have known. Her head had been fuzzy the past few weeks as it was, but she supposed the moment she’d thought there might be something wrong with the Bean, all of her logic had flown out the window.

But at least she’d had Hotch to keep her level headed, and-

“Oh my god, Anderson,” She jolted up, her legs stuck in the stirrups the midwife had place her into while she examined everything, “We need to tell Anderson, the poor guy was so worried,”

Hotch chose not to tell her he’d seen Anderson go as white as a ghost the second she’d turned her back, and instead patted her leg as Spencer went to speak to the midwife a little more, no doubt picking apart every single symptom she’d presented in that huge, worried head of his.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Anderson is fine, honey,” He said earnestly, and she looked at him like a kicked puppy, entirely sorry for the panic she’d caused, “Let’s just get you your underwear back, huh?”

MONTH SEVEN. The one where they decorate the nursery.

“What about Elias,”

“Veto,”

Bugsy pulled a shunned expression as she carefully rolled the wallpaper up the wall.

“Mason? Niko, stop,” She proposed, one hand on the wall while using the other to push the nosey feline away from the wet paste she’d been brushing on the wall.

He sat politely at her chide, blinking at her with those big eyes as he watched her work with a twitching tail, almost entertained at the woman who had ballooned up in just a few weeks struggling to do a relatively easy task.

“Hmm, Mason can go on the bench,” Spencer responded where he was sitting at the other end of the wall doing the same thing only much faster, though she’d argue it was a little easier since he wasn't carrying a large coconut strapped to his stomach.

They’d left the apartment just two weeks ago. Derek had been the one to help them cart their small amount of furniture into the modest house on the outskirts of West Springfield. It was large by Spencer’s standards, even if Bugsy had seen what grandeur looked like in her own childhood homes, but it didn’t matter. Because walls and floors and fancy grand pianos had never bought her love. Yet the first evening they’d spent in their new home they had slept on a mattress on the floor, the list of things to do the following day rattling around their heads. But they had a home. They had the picket fence with the nice school down the road and the bus stop within eyesight of the kitchen where their kid would one day walk to their door with a book bag and glasses like Spencer’s.

She had never felt like she belonged somewhere until she had a home with him.

“What about Ada for a girl?” Spencer called over his shoulder, where he had almost caught up to where she was still working on the small patch of wall. The paper was proving frustrating for her swollen fingers, considering the entire thing, when put together, made up a mural of little woodland creatures amidst a forest and left zero room for error, “Named after Ada Lovelace, the woman who pioneered computers,”

Considering it for a moment, she nodded, “That’s pretty. Ada makes top ten,”

Flipping the last part up to stick against the thick glue, she ran her hands over the seams to be sure it aligned perfectly with the rest of the picture. Satisfied when it matched and a little fox stared down at her, she smiled, tilting her head up where Spencer was standing over her, watching her concentrate.

“All done!” She chirped, and he bent down to give her a kiss to her puckered lips, sliding a hand beneath her arm to help her up.

“Looks perfect, you’re really carrying the team honey,” He mused as she got to her feet with a little whine, wrapping her arms around his middle in a proud hug.

“I know, what would you ever do without me?”

He laughed, looking at her with an adoring gaze.

The light cracked through the open window, laying over her face delicately. The house was still bare, still in need of carpets and a good dusting, still had leaky pipes and ants in the pantry. Yes, they had a pantry now. But it was a start. It was a home.

“I say we leave the cradle for another day, baby is calling for frozen grapes again,” She said, rubbing a hand over her protruding belly button and he smiled. Spencer could have sworn he was the luckiest guy in the world when he called her his friend. He thought maybe he should have bought a lottery ticket the same day she told him she loved him. The day she became his girlfriend he thinks he may have died and the past three years have been purely a dream.

But watching the breeze kiss her cheeks and stroke her hair, watching her eyes rove over the room that would keep their baby safe and warm in just a few weeks, even seeing her smile at him like he had handed her the whole universe in a box when she was the one growing a whole human inside her; Spencer felt like his life was so much better than he ever hoped it would be.

“Frozen grapes, coming right up,” He said, slipping his fingers in between his to help her down the winding staircase which had been a winner for her immediately. It’s like we have a castle, Spence. “You or the baby could ask for a whole damn ox and I’d give it to you.”

She laughed, holding onto the bannister as they headed downstairs to the kitchen that was in dire need of fresh paint.

“What if I said baby wants a holiday to Cancun and another cat,”

“I’d say baby is onto something there,” Spencer said, sweeping her from the final step and giving her a wet kiss to her head, “But first, grapes.”

MONTH EIGHT. The one where she gets cranky.

“Oh my god,” She groaned as she threw herself into her wheely chair, her button up shirt barely accommodating her stomach that was well and truly ready to pop.

Derek Morgan loved her, he truly loved her like she was one of his sisters, dare say he had loved her since that day he’d carried her out of the church she was held hostage in by Cyrus. He had seen her at her rock bottom, had seen her graduate with flying colours, had even put his job on the line for her; covered her back from a stupid mistake at a bar when she popped a little molly on government pay.

Derek loved her. He did. But the moment he saw her slump into her chair, her face scrunched up in frustration, he was collecting his mug of coffee and all but bolting for the door and heading straight for Penelope’s lair.

“Back pain again?” JJ asked, flitting past a very frantic Morgan and heading towards Rossi’s office with a stack of papers in her arms. Bugsy let out something close to a growl in return, and JJ took it as a yes.

“I swear I have been pregnant for years,” She huffed, barely reaching over to where her keyboard sat at her desk. Tara nudged it forward for her to grab, because it seemed like she was on her breaking point enough as it was, and received a brief nod of thanks “I can’t remember a time when my back didn’t hurt, or my boobs were aching or my head wasn’t all fuzzy and weird and- OH for the love of god SWITCH ON YOU PIECE OF SHIT,”

JJ’s brows raised as the keyboard mouse went flying off the side of her desk in protest, rolling straight past where Hotch and Spencer were strolling through the office, her boyfriend carrying the biggest Strawberry Milkshake he could find on this side of town.

If Hotch wanted to say anything about her damaging property, he thought it smarter to keep his mouth shut as she swivelled to face the two of them, her expression already irritated by the worried stare they shot her way.

“What?” She said with a bite, and Spencer raised his hands in surrender, which left her gaze to slide to Hotch.

And Hotch loved her too, loved her more than he would ever admit. But he swore he the second her eyes clamped on his, Aaron Hotchner considered an exorcism might be necessary.

“What, what are you staring at me for?” She snapped, throwing her hands out like a bratty teenager, and Hotch cleared his throat before he spoke, something embarrassingly close to fear shaking his vocal chords.

“Have you given any more thought to maternity leave, yet?” He asked and her eye twitched, and it was as if he saw the stapler was next on her list of things to send flying off the table, preferably straight at his head. “I would be more than happy to pull some strings so you take longer off after the baby is born, maybe even Spencer could start his paternity early-”

“What?” She said for a third time, like she was a broken record. And she knew she was being unfair, perhaps even cruelly so. But she would make it up to them later, when she was in a better frame of mind. Her underwear rode up and pinched where her uterus had begun to drop, her trousers itched for whatever reason, her face was hot from just walking from the elevator to her chair and that was just since she’d entered the office. She hadn’t got much energy for showers anymore and so washing her hair became some ugly affair where Spencer got in with her and did it for her, only last time he put a little too much product on and got the suds in her eyes and they had spent twenty minutes rinsing her face, naked and dripping wet, over the sink. She felt awful, awful for how she was being so irrationally rude, but it was like every inch of her being was uncomfortable. And there was still another month to go.

“Good god, man, don’t poke the bear,” Tara hummed as she passed, taking her own half full mug to the kitchen to escape whatever was rumbling in that hot head of hers.

Hotch swallowed heavily, noticing how Spencer stayed deadly quiet no doubt because he’d learned his lesson in trying to force Bugsy into doing something when she was like this, “I’m saying I think it would be good for you to take some time off, you’ve both worked hard enough as it is and with the baby being so close, it would be good to take it easy for a few weeks-”

She pressed her lips together, because she knew he was probably trying to help, probably trying to be considerate, and yet the heat of annoyance bubbled up inside her all the same like a kettle on the precipice of boiling.

“If you want the big scary pregnant lady out of your way just spit it out, Hotch,” She snapped, scowling at him in a way he remembered Hailey doing when he so much as sneezed too loud.

And he couldn’t find it in him to be mad at her. Because anyone with eyes saw she was uncomfortable, he knew if she was anything like his own ex-wife then she wouldn’t be sleeping nearly as much as she should, that more than likely their kid would be already kicking with long, scrawny legs to get out and show the world what they were made of.

Hotch was saved from the firing line when his guess was proved almost immediately, and she groaned with a hand to her abdomen.

“Spencer, would you tell your kid they’re not a linebacker and that my kidneys aren’t the damn ball,” She complained, and her partner flashed her a brave smile, leaning over her to rub where she was caressing her battered organs.

“Actually, right about here will be your spleen since the baby has pushed everything around at this stage-” And with that Hotch darted towards his office because Bugsy looked ready to clip someone around the ear, and he didn’t have the heart to write her up for it.

Although for the sanctity of his team, he rushed her documents through the same afternoon and gave her an extra four weeks pay in lieu of a truce.

MONTH NINE. The one with the birth.

It had been fourteen hours already when the doctor mentioned the word caesarean.

“Caesarean? We never planned for a C-section,” Bugsy’s eyes widened where she was intermittently sucking down gas and air, Spencer patting her forehead down with an ice wet cloth.

But then again she supposed she had never planned to go into labour when getting the laundry off the washing line while Spence painted the porch.

He looked at her with nervous hazel hues where her face sparkled with sweat and water, her hand squeezing him tightly as another contraction hit.

“I’m afraid we have few options left, Miss Prentiss,” The midwife said, a woman around her age that was already masked up after prodding around her cervix for a few hours, “Fourteen hours is rough on anyone and we’re not seeing any movement past your pelvis. Any longer and you or your baby might be at risk,”

And it was the truth, but it was a harsh one, and tears sprung to her eyes hearing those last few words. She had never had any delusions it would be easy giving birth, it was revered as the most painful thing anyone could go through, but she had assumed on a hope and a prayer that things would go smoothly.

“I know it’s scary,” Spencer found his voice after a second, their hands clasped tightly together because there was more chance of snow in hell than there was he was letting her do this alone, “But, baby, you’re doing so well, and you’re almost there,” He said in a watery sweet tone, dabbing at her brow once more and the two of them exchanged a teary look, “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay, they’re going to numb you for the whole thing and when it’s over we’re going to have our baby, huh?”

She smiled ruefully because he was trying desperately to cheer her up, even though it sounded like he was reassuring himself just as much as he was her.

And she nodded, because she knew he was right, and more than anything she wanted their baby to be safe, even if it meant having her insides scooped out like she was some russian nesting doll.

“O-okay, yeah, c-can Spencer stay with me?” She asked nervously, and the midwife smiled, pressing a button to call for the anesthesiologist.

“Ofcourse, honey. Just try to relax, we’re going to arrange an epidural for you,” She said in a voice that told Bugsy she’d practised staying calm in an emergency a thousand times.

Bugsy breathed through her nose, feeling Spencer swoop in to wipe the lone few tears dribbling down her cheeks.

“It’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna be okay,” He said, his voice bustling with nerves and she wanted to tell him the same, wanted to tell him she loved him more than ever for trying to put a brave face on for her sake. But she couldn’t, so she nodded frantically, leaning her forehead against his cheek and taking a few more deep breaths.

–

“You’re doing great, honey, you’re being so brave,” Spencer reassured in his biggest voice, his hand carding over the side of her hot face gently. There was blood, there was so much blood, and the sound of her monitor was the only sound that was constant and not at all worrying with its steady heart beat.

The midwives were flitting around the room, the lead obstetrician making careful incisions and handing various things Spencer didn’t want to see over to his co-workers. Because he loved their baby already, couldn’t wait to meet the mini him he’d been dreaming about since he was a boy himself, but Bugsy needed him first. She was his everything, his whole life, his whole universe fading between clear consciousness and a slightly loopy gaze as she relaxed on the table.

“Is it over? Are they here, are they okay?” She slurred, looking over at him where his hair was covered in a blue scrub cap, his entire body wrapped in protective uniform to minimise the risk of infection on her body.

He cradled her face again, shaking his head, “Not yet honey, you’re doing so good, it’s nearly over,” Spencer said, pressing his brow against hers because he had a mask over his mouth and couldn’t kiss her properly, “I love you so much, I swear I’ll try every day of my life to repay you,”

“You’re being mushy, you’re freaking me out,” She joked as if she was her regular self, because the midwives had all warned him that the sedatives would take the edge off her nerves. And he chuckled, even if he was worrying enough for the two of them, sniffling behind the stuffy mask he had to keep on until she was in recovery.

“I’m sorry, baby, I just want you to be okay,” Spencer said earnestly, and he pressed a kiss to her head anyway even if she wouldn’t feel it with his mask, “I’m gonna get you so many milkshakes when this is-”

There was a wail behind the curtain they had draped over her stomach, and both their breaths stopped in their chests.

“Is that…” Bugsy started, her eyes wide and alert even if seconds ago she had been almost drunk, “Is that it- is that them?”

And another scream resounded around the room as if to answer her.

Spencer swore he had never felt tears well in his eyes so fast until one of the midwives brought a wriggling, wrinkly bundle around the curtain, and within seconds he felt his cheeks sodden with tears.

“Oh my god,” He said his smile reaching his eyes as the little creature was put on Bugsy’s chest, and it was only then he realised she was weeping too and he resumed his position stroking her head, “It’s a-”

“It’s a girl! Spencer, we have a girl!” Bugsy’s grin went from ear to ear, her eyes round and adoring at the ugly, scrunched face still screaming at them, her eyes closed and her skin covered in a white goop, “Oh my god, she’s so beautiful,”

“I told you she’d take after you,” Spencer said, not minding the nurses sewing Bugsy up as they stared at their little girl, Bugsy’s arms holding her body weight delicately though she didn’t quite know what she was doing.

Spencer was quick to remove the mask once they cleared him to, and the second he was freed he pushed his lips to his girlfriend’s, their mouths equally as salty and sodden as one another with the way their cheeks washed with tears. Pulling away, he looked at her in the eyes, the same eyes he’d always loved, the same eyes he’d know in any life, in any world, in any fog, and their smiles were damn near blinding.

“I love you so much, I swear I’m going to make it up to you, anything you want,” Spencer said, kissing her again, his hand resting over hers where she held their baby girl on her bare chest.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she already had everything she’d ever wanted right there with her.

“I love you so much more, Spencer,” She said quietly, the two of them pulling away when the little girl squealed again and they chuckled, quickly rushing to calm her cries as they looked at her as if they had yet to realise she was real and she was theirs, “Oh my god Spencer, you’re a daddy,”

“Bugsy, you’re a mommy,” He said with raised brows and she gasped, giggling with glee as her free hand flew to grab his face and pull him in to kiss her again, “We’re a mommy and daddy,”

The two of them burst out laughing even though overjoyed tears lined their eyes again, and Spencer trailed a large finger down her chubby cheek softly, her skin shrivelled and pruney like she’d been submerged in a bath for too long.

“Spencer, she’s perfect,” She said after a moment, her breath completely stolen when she took her in, the small head completely covered in dark hair, which she had already suspected would be there from the amount of times she found herself itching at her stomach. Her tiny fists waved in the air as her sobs subsided, beginning to warm up to the skin on Bugsy’s chest, and Spencer audibly choked in a cry of his own when her eyelids slowly blinked open and revealed forest hues damn near identical to his own. He pushed his temple to Bugsy’s again as she carefully swayed her from side to side.

“I’m never going to let anything hurt you,” He murmured, his breath warm on her collarbone and his baby girl stared back at him like she understood, even though he knew that was pretty much impossible, “Either of you,”

Bugsy sniffled with a wobbly smile, her hands shaking as she held her daughter up, “Do you want to hold her?”

Spencer looked ready to wail all over again, not that she would ever hold it against him. The two of them had been weeping all day, and their kid was a real tear jerker to look at with her thick lashes and wide eyes.

He was quick to pop open his shirt, holding his hands out nervously as she placed the baby in his arms, his fingers supporting under her head the whole time he brought her to his chest.

Bugsy smiled, the midwife checking in with her for a moment before they were ready to wheel her into the other room to rest up, while Spencer looked entirely enamoured with the little bundle in his arms.

He was a dad. He had made this beautiful, perfect little girl with the woman he loved more than anything in the world, and somehow she had given him even more reasons to feel so lucky.

“Hello, you,” He said through bleary eyes, smiling through a chuckle when he saw just how tiny she looked in his arms, and he had never seen anything look so fragile, “I’m going to try be the best dad you could ever have, okay? I’m gonna be there for all the lame parties, and the sleepovers and the big games and every single time you need help on your homework, I’m gonna be right there with you.”

“What name are we putting on the chart?” The midwife asked as Bugsy watched Spencer murmur to the sweet face that looked up at him in wonder, “Or is it just Baby Girl Prentiss for the moment?”

“It’s Reid,” Bugsy said with a smile, as Spencer poured even more of his gentle heart out in promises she knew he would keep until the day he died. And she knew without checking with him the name they chose weeks ago was perfect; the one they’d decided on just a few days after the nursery was finished and she had yet another bowl of frozen grapes to chow down on while they admired their work.

One for his mother, one for Emily.

“Ana Emilia Reid,”

–

taglists:

TROUBLE

@littlemadamred @stainedpomegranatelips @mcntsee @release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @alyeskathewave @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @busy-buzzing

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss x sister!reader #prentiss!reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #bugspence

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

the orange peel theory * fem!driver

how many men in her life would stop to peel an orange for her if she asks randomly?

pairings: f1 grid x fem!driver

warnings: -

notes: juSt a random idea i got when i dreadfully peeled oranges for myself ugh i hate being single sometimes

guys this is the last vr update today i swear i’ve got too much times on my hands actually

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> max verstappen, #1

would be in the middle of an interview after quali when she comes up to him with a mandarin orange in hand

max stops mid sentence to look down at her in confusion but will take the orange into his hands as she asks him to peel it for her politely

he would cover the mic and whisper “can this wait? i’m in the middle of something” and she shows him her hands, perfectly manicured white nails with a frown and says “i’ll stain my nails”

and he just does it, peeling the orange as he carries on with the interview after she walks away without him knowing

when he finishes, he turns to give it to her but she’s no longer there and ends up eating the orange during his interview lol

-> logan sargeant, #2

he’d be sitting in his garage minding his own business when she comes and sits next to him with a bag of mandarin oranges in hand

he doesn’t even need to be told

he immediately reaches out and starts peeling the oranges for her, even tearing away the white strands because he knows she hates those

totally nothing to do with the fact that he’s had a crush on her forever

everything to do with the fact that they grew up together and he’s too lazy to fight

-> daniel ricciardo, #3

he’s literally just walked into the paddocks for race day

he feels all cool with all the cameras

suddenly she runs over to him with an orange in her hands and a hopeful smile

“peel this for me please?”

he does it without question

he walks the paddocks with her while peeling her orange and even sparks up conversation with her

-> lando norris, #4

literally walks away when he sees her approaching him with an orange

she’s been doing it all weekend and he refuses to be a victim

also because he’s not that fond of peeling oranges

or oranges, for that matter

she tries chasing after him but when she finally catches up, he simply ignores the request to peel the orange for her

-> pierre gasly, #10

he’ll be literally walking over to the grid for the driver’s parade

looking pretty cool in his cool fits

an orange is presented to him without question

he grins at her and thanks her for the orange

walks away and eats the orange himself

-> sergio perez, #11

would also be in the middle of an interview when she comes up with an orange

would peel it because he’s a mega dad and he’s really taken a liking to her

excuses himself from the interview to do it for her real quick

would take one piece of the orange for himself

claims it’s the taxes for making him do it instead of doing it herself

-> fernando alonso, #14

takes the orange without her saying anything

he’s always seen with seb on race weekends and is very used to her antics

literally gives her the orange peel and one piece of orange

eats the orange without her saying anything

she’s in damn near tears because she really expected fernando to peel it for her without question

-> charles lerclerc, #16

is sad that she didn’t bring him an orange too

still peels it for her though

even though he was in the middle of some paddock game with carlos

asks for a piece and because she loves him and her crush is still very much present, she simply gives him the whole orange

-> lance stroll, #18

he’d have been coming out of his racing home minding his own business

they don’t interact often because she scares him

is almost scared to say no to the orange peeling and actually says no

mutters “i always knew you hated me” as she walks away

which then makes him chase her to peel the orange for her and apologise profusely

because lance and her literally never talk and it took up all her courage to approach him with this orange, she gives him half of the orange

-> kevin magnussen, #20

asks her if she's got an extra orange for his baby girl

she literally came prepared and gives one to cute baby laura

so now kevin has to peel two oranges for two babies

outrageous, if u ask him

-> nyck de vries, #21

has unfortunately departed by the time she decided to be a menace about the orange peel theory

she thinks about him often though

they're texting buddies actually

-> yuki tsunoda, #22

literally came prepared

he's got a packet of candy he bought when he flew back to japan for a visit

she gives him the whole orange

she literally peels the orange for him in exchange for the candy

-> alex albon, #23

was literally walking to the grid for the opening ceremony of the race weekend

says no immediately

but he does change his mind and asks if he can have half if he peels it for her

peels it and takes more than half of the share

-> zhou guanyu, #24

is delighted to even see her because they don't come across one another often

is kinda touched that she asked him to peel an orange but then is disappointed to find out that he's not the first victim and that this is all a tiktok trend for her

peels it anyway

asks her to bring an extra orange if there's a next time as payment

-> niko hulkenberg, #27

she literally cannot find him

doesn't get to participate in the trend

she only saw him once that weekend and it was at the opening ceremony and she only had 1 orange for alex to peel

and on the grid in his race car

-> esteban ocon, #31

absolutely ADORES her

peels it without question

peeks around her shoulder to ask if she's brought another one for him

she says yes and that he's the only one who gets one for himself because she loves him back

-> lewis hamilton, #44

this psycho literally approaches lewis when he's on an interview panel

but that's because he asked her to do it at that time so he has a excuse to escape the panel

he's just so tired of the panel interviews

giggling with her like demons as he peels the orange

-> carlos sainz, #55

peels it for her without question

the only one to ask her why she's got so many oranges to eat and hand out

also the only one to ask her if oranges have been the only thing she's eaten all weekend

inhumanly impossible to eat this many oranges in one weekend perhaps

-> george russell, #63

is literally tearing up because she came to him to ask to peel the orange

he heard from alex what she's been doing

he's been waiting all weekend for her and was sad that it seemed like she had no intentions on letting him participate in her tiktok

she feels so bad for him that she joins him in peeling an orange as well

-> valtteri bottas, #77

is confused because he's just minding his own business using his phone during the driver's briefing

peels the orange for her anyway

asks if oranges are her favourite fruit

suggests eating something less acidic to avoid a tummyache

-> oscar piastri, #81

if anyone's tired of her being a menace with all these oranges, it's going to be him

but because he knows she'll pick a fight if he says no

he will peel the orange reluctantly

takes a picture with the orange because it's the same shade as the mclaren shirt he is wearing

— bonus

-> liam lawson, #30

asks her to fuck off

only ask him to peel an orange when she's lost all the ability to peel one for herself

asks her if he can have one from her orange stash

she says no in tears because he cussed at her

shrugs and walks away

-> sebastian vettel, #5

this clinically insane woman has got this 4 time world champion peeling oranges on the pit wall during qualifying

has him throw her a peeled orange in between laps during qualifying

eats it in the car for a racing 'buff' before she drives out for a lap

she's got too many oranges so he helps her eat some of them

eating oranges = beating mclaren = beating oscar because they're all the same colour and have a correlation obviously

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @sadg3

#f1 grid x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon x reader #sebastian vettel x reader

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lafleshlumpeater · 1 year ago

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hey lovely!!

maybe a luke castellan x fem!reader who’s suuuuper sweet? maybe an aphrodite kid, and jsut super kind and charming overall? nobody expects her and luke to be together, but how different they are ends up working?

thank you!!!

ofc<3

Warnings: fem!reader, small mention of food, PDA, one swear word, lmk if there are any missing

I hope you dont mind this is from percy’s pov<3

luke castellan masterlist part two

“No way,” Percy muttered under his breath, giving Charlie the same disbelieving look he was receiving back. "I don't believe it."

Charlie shrugged.

“Well, you’d better,” the boy whispered back. “Cause it looks like they got something serious, man.”

The pair watched in part disgust and part fascination as they watched the blissful pair across the fire. Luke had his chin rested on her shoulder, whispering something Percy assumed was flirtatious due to her flustered reaction- all pink cheeks and giggles as she reprimanded him playfully, pushing his chest. Luke remained unfazed, lips curling smugly and crossing his arms as he brushed a quick kiss against the plush of her cheek.

Charlie’s eyes widened further. “But how? They’re so-”

“Different?” Silena finished her boyfriend’s sentence, looking up from her charred marshmallow stick. “You’re not one to talk, Charles. Look at us. Besides, she makes him a completely different person. Look.”

The trio turned their heads once again, this time to the nauseating, in Percy’s opinion, sight of her feeding Luke pieces of sticky marshmallow, both of them giggling when it gets everywhere. Luke pokes his tongue out to get the last bits off of her fingers, and she squeals.

Percy’s nose wrinkles, turning to Charlie. “Disgusting.”

“Agreed,” Charlie nods with a grimace of his own. “It’s a miracle he got her, to be honest. She’s so…”

“Bubbly?”

“That.”

Charlie sighs. “I am happy for him, though. The both of them. Even if they are… terrifyingly different.”

Percy nods in agreement, heart swelling in joy for his first friend at camp. “Yeah.”

The older boy sighs. “They’re too mushy though,” he remarks.

Percy’s eyes narrow at the scene of the lovesick couple, now kissing tenderly with not even the fire casting fluctuating shadows over their faces able to hide the content of their expressions. “Not nice.”

Charlie inhales. “Oi!” he yells over the fire. “Too much PDA, man! Get a room!”

Laughter ripples through the air, and both guilty candidates break away, one unnaturally red- faced and the other tittering, finger hooked around the string of her partner's beaded necklace.

“Fuck off, man,” Luke complains loudly, eyes dancing with glee. “Leave me and my girl alone.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer than deemed possible.

She looked up at him, adoration gracing her soft features as she stared at her lover. “Don’t be mean, Luke.”

“He started it!”

(not proofread- lmk if there are any mistakes)

taglist: @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

#pjo #percy jackson fic #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson blurb #percy jackson fanfiction #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan blurb #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #fem reader #percy jackson and the olympians #requested fic #asks

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 5 months ago

Text

Down Bad — Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (Smut 18+)

Summary: After seeing that her ex boyfriend is engaged to his “rebound girl”, Reader finds herself missing the comforts and pleasures of sex.

Notes: ahh!! @reidsbookclub thank you my absolute love for reading this ahead of time. your enthusiasm and support and love is so so so appreciated <3 and this is my piece for @imagining-in-the-margins Friends with Benefits challenge

Word Count: 6 K

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption (not drunk), oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, (kinda) dom Spencer ( hopeful ending?), unprotected sex, some negative self body image (reader), finishing inside with birth control, breeding kink, possessive language, dirty talk/crude language (I know Spencer's probably a tab bit OOC but this is me trying here)

Down Bad

There was no way for my situation to turn crappier. My finger stood, haunted and frozen above my phone screen. The bathroom sink ran unattended as I attempted to defrost my heart. It had dropped to my stomach as my eyebrows shot up.

I still followed Lydia, my ex's younger sister on Instagram and Facebook. Her brother might have turned out to be a terrible communicator, but she was cool.

Just a couple of months ago, she was a student in Geology and the last time we spoke she was writing a paper on Ancient Rocks in communities that used aqueducts systems. What you could do with a Master's in Geology was beyond me and my office job. I'm sure she hears too many "you must live under a rock" joke from her dad. He was always cracking the most dad jokes that have ever dad-joked; I missed it. And Lori's South Chocolate Gravy Pie. I didn't even want to know how many sticks of butter it took.

Lydia had her arms thrown around a tall, leggy, blonde girl that looked like her name was Sarah or Hannah. The post was in black and white and Hannah/Sarah showed off her gorgeous ring.

lydia-nielson99 The best honorary sister ever <3!

When my ex and I dated, the idea of fine dining was a night out at a movie sharing a bucket of popcorn and an honest-to-God-attempt at moving hopping. We talked about marriage; he'd slip on fake rings made from grass blades braided together meticulously on my finger, kiss it, and promise me that he'd earn me something worthy of my finger.

The post had only been up for 43 minutes and already had gotten a hundred or so likes. I scrolled the comment section, ignoring the rushing tap, to read the comments from my friends, our couple friends. They must've liked Sarah/Hannah better, or at least liked her and Shane better together then Shane and me. I haven’t heard from them since the breakup.

Aren't most geologists analog? I slipped my phone back into my pocket and washed my hands, wishing that I could crawl under a rock, one of those ancient ones that Lydia studies.

I couldn't decide. I couldn't decide between a red that would give me a headache I could feel in my teeth or straight gasoline that would make my face, and heart, as equally numb.

I wanted something quick and something strong. I was so, so, so over Shane it wasn't even funny. But that didn't stop him from being the love of my life, to the loss of my life. I just wondered, as I roamed the supermarket with my metal carriage holding tequila, limes, Kraft Mac and Cheese, and frozen pizza bagels, if he told Hannah/Sarah the same things.

If he would sit across from her, now probably able to splurge on a dinner fancier than Taco Bell or Denny's, and hold her hands. Would he move her ring from her middle finger to her ring finger like he did on mine?

God, I cringed, dropping in a box of Double Stuffed Oreos, I let him, shit talk me under tables with promises of rings and cradles in the other breath.

I reached for the pint of strawberry as another text pinged. Internally I knew that I would soon face an onslaught of future wine moms just jumping at the chance to "check in with me" during "such a challenging and emotional time" for me. I ignored the message, but it pinged again.

Spencer: Penelope said that the new season of that show you like is on. We can watch it tonight. I think that Hotch is actually gonna let us out at a normal time.

Spencer, my roommate, always texted with formality and correct grammar. I actually think that it would be impossible for him to do anything, but use proper spelling and grammar.

Unlike certain geologists, Spencer is actually analog. When I was searching for a roommate after my break-up, our mutual friend Penelope put us in touch. And just mere months later we've formed a friendship that most days is closer to a partnership than it is to anything else. Friends were hard for me, and relationships even harder. Looking back, I think that allowed Shane to bulldoze through boundaries I didn't even know I should have.

Spencer, a certified genius and self-described technophobe, couldn't tell me the purpose of Instagram, let alone that my ex-boyfriend's sister posted a picture with her newest soon to be sister-in-law, Sarah/Hannah.

I dropped a pint of Rocky Road ice cream and looped around for an extra box of Kraft Mac and Cheese before replying back to Spencer.

Me: Worst. Day. Ever!!! Ice cream & carbs @ 7

I stared at the bottle of tequila, understanding that ever since my 31st birthday, me and excessive drinking due to external crises would result in bloating, headaches, backaches, anxiety, and an entire weekend of recovery. Maybe instead of several shots, but I already finished half of the bottle of red I bought as a bottom of the ninth decision.

"Tequila?" Spencer mused, dropping his bag on the table. "This must be like Defcon 4? And I should know, I work in national security."

I grunted, my fingers drumming against the table. The cheap speaker connected to my phone plays sad breakup music. I saw Spencer's wheels turn as he sat down with me at the table.

"Want boxed Mac & Cheese?" I asked, standing up to scoop some of the dinner into a plate for myself. I didn't seek it out often, but there was something familiar and comforting about Kraft Mac & Cheese. "I know it's got a lot of shitty stuff in it. But I'm actually going to lose my mind tonight."

My voice turned shrill and unsteady. And my eyes flooded with sharp, salty tears. Spencer stood and then backed away, his eyes and face melting in mutual pain. "What happened?"

"Shane's getting married."

"That explains the tequila."

I laughed. Spencer didn't offer any condolences as the seconds ticked and ticked. Instead he looked at me. He must've noticed the groceries. The Oreos, ice creams, and boxes of incredibly processed macaroni and cheese all screamed classic crisis for me. Being as smart as he is, Spencer could probably have told something about me within weeks of meeting me.

"Well, I already drank some of that red wine." I said. "The tequila doesn't sound like a good choice. But bad choices can be fun choices when you want to hide under a rock for the rest of your life."

Spencer still didn't offer anything, he kicked off his shoes and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. "No tequila."

“You’re no fun." I huffed, grabbing my bowl and heading to the living room. "You promised me new episodes of The Queen's Court."

Spencer still frowned, his arms crossed as his steaming bowl of processed cheese pasta sat to his side on the counter. "I didn't think that Shane still was someone you thought about."

I sighed.

“It’s understandable. He’s marrying the girl he started dating right after breaking-up with you.”

I didn't think about Shane, not that often though. But he still was my first love. The love I shared with Shane was something he stole from me. I had given him all that youth for free; now I was thirty-one. Don't get me wrong, thirty-one is young, I don't feel old. But it's this weird, almost off-putting subliminal feeling when all of my friends either smell like weed or little babies.

"I don't love him. I don't want to be with him."

Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his forearms. He had a couple pictures of himself when he was younger. Him with his mom at one of his many post-graduate celebrations. One with his co-workers at a bar. He changed a lot; in pictures of the past he was thin and lanky. But now, when he would wear pants or cardigans or button downs with the sleeves rolled up, I found it difficult to not stare in appreciation. My sex life with Shane was good, consistent, and effective. While it might sound clinical to some, I think we both enjoyed knowing that we both knew how to, simply, get the job done for each other. I must be missing sex an awful lot to be getting flushed at the sight of Spencer’s arms.

Two years older than me, Spencer had had a life harder than most people. Penelope explained to me that he was finding it hard to live alone after he was falsely incarcerated. And working the hours he did at the BAU, he found it hard to find someone okay with someone coming home all hours of the night.

Like Spencer, I hated living alone. So together, we built a little home as roommates, as friends, and somewhere along the lines, as partners. And over the last couple of months, Spencer had never brought a date home. I had one hook up about two weeks after we moved in together. It was fine, but not enough to tempt back onto the horrid, vapid, devoid of anything promising landscape that was Bumble and Hinge.

"I just..." I bring my face into my hands in embarrassment. "I miss having someone to come home to who wants to see me."

Spencer crossed through the living room, bowl in hand. He sat criss cross on the floor like he did most nights. "I want to see you. I always want to see you, Y/N."

"You know what I mean, Spencer…And if I'm being honest...sex. God, I miss sex. Good, consistent, effective sex from someone that knows me."

Spencer and I never talked about sex. When we would watch movies that had sex scenes in it, neither of us would talk. One time we watched a movie starring whatever current Hollywood Pretty Boy had captured the hearts of the Internet at the time, and I commented that I would "ride that cowboy into the sunset." I remembered looking at Spencer for his reaction. Usually he would blush or roll his eyes or kick me playfully in the shin for being crass.

But that time he didn't. Instead, his jaw set, grinding firmly and unyieldingly. After that I didn't make sexy jokes or talk about sex in front of him. I thought it made him uncomfortable, till now I suppose

The music changed, and the breakup anthem of the century played. I stood up on the sofa, solo cup in hand and swayed to the music as Spencer stood below.

"You want sex?" Spencer asked. "We can have sex on this sofa right now if that's what you want. I mean, how much wine have you had?"

I busted out laughing, sipping the red wine from my solo cup. I didn't bother for a fancy wine glass. Besides, it was cheap and . And clearly it was working if it made me imagine Spencer Reid, my hot, stoic roommate with dreamy brown eyes, offering me sex.

"Spencer! Come, dance. Please!" His eyes shifted over my body. And he must have noticed the way my knees wobbled under the insecurity of the sofa cushions or the way my eyes must have been glazed and sparkly.

He obliged me, and his hand wrapped around mine. He raised my hand above my head to twirl me and then walked me down from the couch. "Let's get you on level ground. I hurt my leg a couple years after I started the BAU and it's no fun healing up."

He sat me down on the couch and placed a throw blanket on my lap. My bowl of Mac & Cheese was missing, but returned back to my lap, reheated. Spencer also replaced my solo cup, cutting me off, thankfully, from alcohol for the time.

"Peach flavored electrolyte water. And tomorrow I'll make you breakfast." He offered, sitting down on my right as he started the show.

"I didn't mean to be annoying and buzzed. I know you don’t like it" I said, not looking at Spencer. "I don't love him. Or like him. Or even want to be with him. Ugh. No, I just...I want…sex."

Spencer nodded, not even looking at me as the scene between the Queen and her lady's maid wore on. I kept trying to convince Spencer that the Queen was actually the villain and the warring clan would take over and let the series run on and on for an infinite amount of seasons. But it was campy and dramatic and exactly what I needed as I licked my, apparently, very open and painful wounds.

"What's the matter?" I asked, pausing the television. "You look pissed off."

"You know that he was the one that lost out when you guys broke up." Spencer's eyes didn't meet mine, even though the television remained paused. "He didn't deserve you. Not if he didn't know how goddamn lucky he was when he had you."

I don't let my heart think this means anything."What?" But I feel my cheeks prickle with

heat, just like they did when Spencer, albeit jokingly, offered to have sex with me.

"I said, it's his loss. If I had you, I wouldn't ever lose you, Y/N."

"I'm nothing special." I admit. I wasn't the most positive or confident girl, in my mid twenties I went to therapy for a good three years to sort out some baggage from my childhood. We all have something and mine was having a hard time seeing myself. I couldn't maintain positivity, to my brain it was better to remain neutral than to jam positivity down my throat that I couldn't honestly accept.

"You're not nothing special, Y/N." Spencer's voice cut through, sharp and confident. He sat up, his body sliding so close to mine that his knees touched my thighs. "You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you're smart. And funny. You make me laugh like no one has during a time in my life when I was convinced no one would be able to."

Our apartment isn't big, but it's enough space for Spencer and I to feel like we're could interact when we wanted, which was most of the time. But there was enough space for us to find our alone time when needed.

As Spencer's knees rubbed against mine and his soft eyes met mine, the room seemed to collapse. It was as if all the air was sucked out.

“And I am so...I've never been happier to have you be the last person I see before I go to sleep and the first person I get to see when I wake up. And if I...and if I had that with you the way he did? I wouldn't have messed it up."

"Spencer…" He raised his hand, showing me his palm, a sign that I think signified he meant no harm, but as he words, heated and charged sliced through me, I could feel them ricochet upon impact.

"I know…But, when I said I would fuck you on this couch, Y/N, it wasn't an empty promise. I meant it. And it wouldn’t have to mean anything.”

Spencer shifted on the couch. It creaked with his weight. The bowl of Mac & Cheese burned against my leg— even through the throw blanket. My heart was racing and racing till it skipped a beat. It nearly stopped. He sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to laugh it off again, as if the thought of me and Spencer hooking up…no fucking on the sofa was something comedic or entertaining.

“Are you…Spencer…are you sure?”

I tried to keep my voice steady, unwilling to let him know that the thought of his hands on my body lit a fire inside of me, a fire that I had yet to challenge. But God do I want to tame it. Sex with Spencer would be messy and complicated.

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in on my face. I would’ve thought that being stared at so intensely would have made me want to sink into the couch so I’d be as forgotten as stray hair ties and pocket change. But I wasn’t. Spencer’s brown eyes, liquid bronze bore into me. I felt a hot excitement wash over me that I knew was arousal.

“Yes.”

“Is it bad that I want you to kiss me?” I sighed. “It’s bad timing for either of us. But…”

“But you want me to kiss you?” I nodded and Spencer moved closer to me on the couch. “You want me to help you forget how that man has made you hurt.”

“Spencer…” Before I could rescind my desire, not that I would ever think about it, his hand cupped my cheek. Spencer’s thumb brushed against my jawbone as his eyes scanned my face. I could smell his lavender mint body wash; crisp and clean.

His mouth was anything, but crisp and clean. It was hot and dirty. Spencer kissed me with a hunger that couldn’t be sated with just one kiss. I knew for the moment his lips touched mine, I was done for. I wasn’t a whiskey drinker; I hardly knew what it even tasted like. But Spencer’s kisses felt like it. He doesn’t drink, but his warm body was flush against mine and I tasted the heady, smokey warmth of a strong cocktail. His arms and torso were thick and solid.

I brought my hands up to his neck and carded my fingers through his scalp. He groaned, the vibrations tingled against my lips as he kissed me. Spencer’s teeth tugged at my bottom lip, pulling it out before he kissed it again. He shifted so his back was against the couch and I was hauled up to his lap.

“There you go, baby.” Spencer said. His hands were large and imposing against my back and I could feel their heat through my shirt.

My muscles and resolve transformed to liquid when he called me that. I could feel my heart surge and lurch and leap as Spencer’s lips nipped against my skin. It was so good, so warm, so achingly wonderful that I felt myself wondering if I could do this over and over. I loved my vibrator and I would continue to love my vibrator long after this once-in-a-life-time situation with my roommate would end. But there was nothing like straddling a man’s lap.

And Spencer Reid was a sight to behold. I knew he used to be skinny, but in the years that I didn’t know him, Spencer had grown up. He filled out his pants with his strong thighs and softer stomach. His pants were strained and tented. I grinded down, enjoying his haughty moan in my ear.

I arched my back, exposing my neck as Spencer’s wet, hot mouth pressed kissed along the column of my throat. Feeling him grin as he kissed me I tugged at his hair sharp and hard. His grunt is a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I didn’t think that he’d be this vocal but with me writing in his lap I felt him try to hold back.

“Just touch me.” I whined, kissing Spencer. “Please just touch me.”

His pants tented against my core. I tensed at the feeling of his erection. My pajama pants and underwear, though thin, offer only a sliver of the friction I desired. Spencer’s fingers, quick and nimble, didn’t hesitate to undo the drawstring bow.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Spencer murmured, kissing my temple. His lips are like a tattoo kiss as he resurrects something inside of me that I had long buried. “Sit on the couch.”

I scrambled to sit, my body acting of its own accord as Spencer’s words rattled through me. He was so confident, so sure, so certain. And his hands never left my body. It was as if there was some internal pull between the two of us. He sank to his knees and swung my right leg over his shoulder. I lifted my butt and he slid my pajama pants off my legs. Tossing them to the floor, Spencer licked his lower lip and looked at me as if I was good enough to eat. I supposed that we were about to find out just exactly how good I was.

“Open up for me, baby girl.” Spencer whispered, his breath landed on my skin and made me jump. “Let me see just how pretty you are.”

Spencer Reid had a dirty mouth. My cheeks and chest and belly burned with arousal. He kissed along the edges of my panties. Spencer’s middle finger dragged along my underwear, teasing my clit through the cotton fabric. With the patience of a saint, Spencer tormented both of us. He looked at me as if he could commit me to memory. His eyes were heavy with lust and something that I swore could mean something more. But that line of thinking had red wine written all over it. It wasn’t drunk. Hell, I wasn’t even buzzed anymore.

“Jesus, I’m a lucky fucking bastard.”

Yet, I sat there. With my legs spread, held open by Spencer’s large hands, practically humming with need and desire.

“Please. Please. Just touch me.” I begged, beyond caring if I sounded wanton with need. Spencer smirked as he hooked a finger underneath my panties and slipped them down my legs. And there I sat, legs spread. Finally he obliged. With two fingers, Spencer dragged them up my exposed core. The heel of his hand brushed against my clit. His skin was soft and his fingers deft and skilled. I closed my eyes as the pleasure took control of my body.

Spencer slipped a fingertip inside of me. He could feel the wetness dripping from my cunt. I grabbed his wrist, forcing him to hold his hand against my core. Our eyes met and I could not tell which one of us decided to let his finger sink inside of me. I watched as he slipped inside and released a throaty moan. My cries were extinguished by Spencer’s unyielding mouth. He pumped in and out, in and out, before slipping out of my cunt all together. I lunged forward at the sudden loss and was met by Spencer’s wry chuckle.

“I am going to eat your pussy. And you are going to cum against my face with your legs around my shoulders.”

I groaned. It’s as if Spencer knew that my brain needed to be switched off. He nipped at my inner thigh. Blood rushed throughout my body and I felt my pussy heat at the sensation. Spencer’s soft breath was hot against my skin as he kissed. He licked a line up my aroused core before flicking his tongue over my clit. It was a teasing, tormenting motion that coaxed a wave of pleasure to build. He’s a man possessed, so far gone that I didn’t even attempt to hold back as a moan rises in my throat.

“Jesus. You are a sight to behold. I’m going to show you how a man takes his time.”

As if he could possibly spread me apart even further, Spencer squeezed my thighs. Clearly he wanted to see all of me. Taste all of me. I could feel a coil tighten in my lower stomach and as Spencer lowered his mouth to my core, I felt the coil snap.

His licks aren’t shy and timid like I imagined. They’re purposeful and powerful. And threaten to melt my carefully crafted guard. He’s already gotten me well past the point of foreplay. I’m so wet that I’m sure cock that tents his pants can slip inside without much resistance. But he didn’t stop. His tongue continued lick and nip and suck against my most intimate area.

“Is this all for me? So wet. So pretty, sweetheart. Your cunt is dripping for me.”

I panted, unable to form a coherent thought as Spencer’s heated gaze spread over me. “All for you. Only for you.”

“Well in that case, I think I have a job to do.

All I could see was red. His hands gripped my thighs. I hated my thighs, usually. They’re too soft and squishy and usually ruin most pairs of pants eventually.

“Fucking hell.” Spencer cursed as he sunk two fingers into my needy cunt. “You’re so hot and tight for me, Y/N. Look at you. All splayed out. All for me.”

“You don’t have to do it until I finish.” I blurted out. “I—I know this isn’t….I want tonight to be for you as much as it is for me.”

Spencer’s eyes shifted.

“Ssshh, shhh,” He cooed. He looked up at me with his eyes big and blissed out. It was almost too much for me to handle. I watched as he kneeled in front of me; pants had become too tight from the moment my fingers groped him. At this point it was nearly impossible to withstand.

“I’ve thought about this way too much for us to rush this. I’m going to take my time with you, baby. You are going to ride my face like a good girl.The only thing that’s keeping me from cumming in my pants is the thought of burying my face into your pulsing cunt followed by my fucking you raw with my leaking cock.”

I yelped as he and sucked along my inner thigh. My skin was impossibly soft and tempting. “Fuck. Fuck, baby. You’re perfect. You are a fucking dream.”

I fisted his hair, feeling the familiar rush of pleasure from my head to my toes. For a while it only set my own bedsheets ablaze, but now it spread to Spencer. He groaned against my core, still lapping me up as the wall of pleasure threatened to come crashing down.

One second I was moaning, feeling myself toe the precipice before I teetered over. The feeling built and crashed before I could even enjoy it.

“Fuck! No. Damn it.” I cursed myself for not being able to climax, despite the down right sinful things Spencer was hell bent on doing between my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t…sometimes I have a hard time.”

“Don’t worry,” Spencer assured, his thumb brushing against my kneecap, “We’ll find our rhythm. Together. Anything you want. And I think I might actually die if I don’t get inside you this second.”

I laughed, dragging Spencer up by the shirt collar. He placed his hands against my hips and pulled me forward for a kiss.

I tasted myself against his lips and it turned my on beyond belief. “I want you. I’m on the pill and I want you. It’s awful timing because I don’t have any condoms and it’s a terrible idea but—”

I’m cut off by Spencer’s lips again. His mouth seared against mine, hot and needy. “I’m clean. I want this. I want you. So badly, sweetheart. So bad.”

I nodded, my mouth unwilling and unable to leave Spencer as he knelt in between my legs. He stood to his full height and took my hands. “I know I have promised to fuck you on this couch, but I have a bad knee and once I’m buried inside you, baby, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back.”

“My bed’s made.”

Spencer’s hands didn’t leave my waist as I walked him to my bedroom. I should’ve been more embarrassed as I walked with him, considering I looked more akin to Winnie the Pooh than a sexy hook up. But once I felt a sharp sting on my ass, I quickly realized that Spencer thought the opposite.

“Don’t blame me.” Spencer said. “With that ass you’re lucky I haven’t had the sense to take you over my knee already.”

I turned, facing Spencer and standing with just an oversized pajama shirt covering my chest. His hands hovered over my waist, pulling me towards him by the fabric of my shirt. “I need to see those tits, baby. They drive me fucking wild in the morning. When you’re sitting on that damn counter with your messy hair and no bra. You’re a sight to behold, baby.”

“On one condition.” I presented, attempting to act as if the dirty words that fell between us had no effect on me. “Those pants? They find their way to the hamper. And fast.”

Spencer chuckled as his fingers brushed stray pieces of my hair away from my face. He touched me with such tenderness that I could feel myself craving it long after it was gone. He dropped his pants, followed by his boxers. I meant to tease him about the mini double helix DNAs printed all over his boxers, but I was effectively silenced by his erection.

I felt him the entire time I sat and made out with in his lap. I could feel how hard and thick and long he must be, but seeing him out in the open made my body lurch with need. He devoured me with his lips, pushing me down into the bed as his quick hands rid me of my shirt. Spencer’s teeth met my nipple, nipping and twisting it to elicit the dirtiest moans from my lips. He smiled, sucking marks into my skin that would last even after all what stood between us shattered.

Licking my lips, I could still taste myself from his kiss. Never feeling anything quite this intense with anyone, I suddenly felt so naked and bare. But Spencer’s calm hands, big and gentle, soothed me wordlessly.

“I need you.” I begged, wanton with need, “I need your cock so bad.” I wasn’t a begging woman, but as Spencer pressed the tip of his cock at my entrance I figured that anyone can learn how to relent now and again.

Sweet kisses to my sweaty skin replaced his dirty words that made me flush. As Spencer hovered above me, I drank him in. His eyes were hazel, but sometimes, depending on what he wore, they were brown or green. I quickly unbuttoned his top, eager to have his warmth spread all over him. He was thick and solid— all man. From the muscles in his back to the furrow of his brow and the slight curl pattern to his hair, Spencer sucked all the air from my lungs.

I was weightless. I was floating. I was soaring.

When he finally slid into me it was with an excruciatingly slow speed. “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, a hand brushed my hair and a pair of lips kissed my forehead. “Give ya a chance to see what you can handle.”

Emboldened, I wrapped my legs and interlocked my ankles around Spencer’s butt. He lunged forward and his forehead dipped towards my breast. His kisses were fast and erratic as I felt him sink deeper and deeper inside of me.

“You’re so thick…ah!”

“Oh fuck.” His voice was as raw and as affected as mine. “It’ll be fine, darling. You’re so perfect like this. Taking this cock like a good girl. I know how to make it better for you.”

His thumbs, rough and sharp, circled around my clit helping me to take his cock deeper and deeper. I whined, desperate for the relief and embarrassed at the way I’m at center stage. Spencer took me, made me his and I’m nothing but a mess for him. My bones are liquid as he reaches out for my hand.

It was like there was a blueprint to my body. I had it locked away somewhere. But somehow, somewhere along the way Spencer figured out where it was stored. He read the blueprint. And he knew exactly what to do to make my foundation crumble. With each stroke of his fingers against my clit or pulse of his cock in my pussy, he knew exactly what I needed.

Spencer’s lust filled voice rang clear. “You feel close. I’m so close. Can you come for me? Huh? Show me how you play with that pretty little pussy. How do you do it, Y/N?”

His hands and fingers dug into my lush body with an unrelenting desire I wasn’t accustomed to. Magic fingers. God. And I magic fucking cock. I grabbed his hair, dragging him down to my lips as I teased my clit. Looking down to where our two halves met nearly sent me over the edge. My cock swallowed Spencer’s thick cock, it was hot and erotic and I watched with my mouth hanging open in pure, unadulterated desire. My pussy, wet and hungry for more, begged him for more. I grabbed his ass with my unoccupied, dragging my fingernails down his skin as I begged for him to fuck me harder.

“Harder. Spencer. I need it.”

Spencer brought his face into my neck, kissing and biting my neck as he pounded into me. The angle set rockets of pleasure from my core to my toes, spurring me on as I practically chanted his name. Spencer moaned, his teeth sharp and mouth hot and heady as his kisses grew more and more frantic.

His thrusting was still sharp and calculated as his cocked continued to fuck me. “God, you look gorgeous when I fuck you. All fucked out from my cock. My girl.”

I liked the way he called me his. It was nice to be claimed. To be wanted and desired so badly that two letter little words were tacked on. It was a tiny word, but it changed the entire meaning. It was the sort of word that could make foundations falter and buildings collapse and roommates morph into something else entirely. Endorphins and hormones and who else knows what coursed through my veins.

It was just me and him. Together in a limitless space that neither of us would care to ever leave.

“So close.” I groaned and Spencer knew well enough to just continue rather than to change anything up. “That’s it, baby. Oh! Fuck. Spencer.”

My high came crashing down around me. I felt my cunt clamp around Spencer’s cock as he continued to thrust into me. His eyes watched me with an analytic level of observation. I knew he had a good memory; one that refused to allow him to forget much of anything. But as he watched me fall apart, naked and vulnerable and oh so aroused, it was like he was trying to commit me to memory.

“Come inside. Fuck! Spencer. Please. I need it. I want it.” I begged him, desperate for him to climax inside of me. I wanted to see what it would feel like to have his cum dripping from my needy, spent pussy. I wondered if it would feel different, if it would change something, something fundamentally.

His voice was hoarse and strained as he came, shooting spurts of hot cum into my cunt. It was unabashedly erotic, watching him fall apart with his bare cock stuffed inside me. “Fucking, hell. It’s never been like that before.” He kissed my jaw, holding me in place by my chin while still sheathed inside of me. It was a lovely feeling. Full and safe. I must have been so drunk on him because I thought I could stay like this forever.

The silence that fell between the two of us lingered for several months. Spencer’s fingers danced along my hip bone and up to my rib change. His eyes were closed and his hair was matted with sweat against his forehead. He had creases near his eyes and deep, well set-in bags under his eyes. I wondered how inappropriate it would be for him to spend the night with me. Naked of course. I don’t think either of us could handle having it any other way.

I never fucked my roommate. Nor have I been ballsy enough to have “feel better” sex with a friend. It’s not like I expected him to lay out a red carpet and get down on one knee after he gave me a handful of (earth shattering) orgasms.

“Y/N.” Spencer breathed. A beat passed before I dared to reply.

“Spencer.” He stirred beside me, his hand resting against my thigh.

“I think…I think we’re gonna need to try that again and again and again…” He rolled over onto me, kissing along my jaw. I felt the pads of his thumbs against my bare breasts and sighed.

God, help me. He’s my man.

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