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#had this thought on mind a few hours ago and i decided to write it for nanamin because it really suits him best
slttygeto · 3 months
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tags: fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, cheesy proposal.
nanami knows he wants to marry you, but he’s always busy with work that he can never find the time to ask you properly to be his wife. it’s not until one night when you’re watching your little show on the tv in the living room and your boyfriend is sat on the couch, right by your feet with this big and confusing puzzle on the coffee table. you don’t pay much attention to it, very focused on finding out who is the killer in the episode of this season—until kento gently taps your leg.
“baby, have you seen a piece of my puzzle?”
you bring your arms out of the blanket you’re wrapped in to pause your episode and sit up on the couch.
“you lost a piece?”
“it must’ve fell—sorry my love, you must’ve been so focused on your show,” his rough hand gently rubs at your calf and you wave him off before removing your baby blue blanket.
“pshh, don’t be ridiculous baby,” you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, enjoying the way his stubble tickles your lips. “lemme help you find it.”
you fail to notice that nanami is barely making any effort to locate the missing piece, too busy craning your neck to look under the couch and when you finally find the puzzle piece, you show it to your boyfriend excitedly.
“there it is! I found it—“ as you inspect the piece, you find the word “you” written on the back, and kento nanami holding a gorgeous ring between his thumb and index finger, hand shaky as he stares down at you so lovingly.
“wha–kento?“
“when we first met, something in my life just changed. I didn’t know what it was at the time, maybe I was too scared to admit it—that you make me feel safe, loved. that you give me a purpose, a reason to be alive and to keep going. I was too scared that you,” he grabs your left hand and kisses the back of it. “were what my heart, my life was missing all along. my love, will you give me the absolute honor of marrying me?”
and when you look at the sticky note sitting above the puzzle it says “my heart” and you were holding a piece of it. the missing piece.
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roseghoul26 · 8 days
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader
Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry. 
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You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life. 
Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are. 
Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage. 
The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you. 
You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him. 
You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.
It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be. 
It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important. 
He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was. 
How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You��d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this. 
You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.
You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards. 
You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.
You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice. 
Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey. 
You almost wished it had torn you apart then. 
Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 
Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion. 
The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in. 
Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.
The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close. 
The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight. 
The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.
However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it. 
Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth. 
If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought. 
Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck. 
Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?” 
You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.
The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.
Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name. 
With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty. 
The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too. 
So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”
You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.
“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”
Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened. 
Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes. 
“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone. 
You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.
“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”
He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.
“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”
He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”
It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out. 
The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.
Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.
Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue. 
“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words. 
You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”
One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark. 
You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”
Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.
“Can-”
“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.
Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred. 
You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame. 
“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.” 
His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”
“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips. 
“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched. 
But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.
“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.
“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death. 
“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.
“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features. 
“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered. 
You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.
If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body. 
You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside. 
As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.” 
When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately. 
He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”
You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again. 
“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.”  Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this. 
You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself. 
Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand. 
“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours. 
It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something. 
But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.
“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like. 
He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you. 
He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified. 
You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it. 
“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.
His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it. 
He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it. 
You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”
Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs. 
Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you. 
As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret. 
Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.
You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”
This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.
With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again. 
“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.
It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.
Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair. 
When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. 
You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.
Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat. 
“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.
You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing. 
Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”
Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans. 
He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.
They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat. 
He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 
Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own. 
So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring. 
“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it. 
You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”
His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles. 
Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.
With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit. 
You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.
 “You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him. 
You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.
He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke. 
You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.
With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.
When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer. 
He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now. 
“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck. 
It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.
A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body. 
He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.
Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.
He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 
“You,” you gasped out.
“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.
Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction. 
He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.
“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.
Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.
Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist. 
You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand. 
His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny. 
With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.
It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin. 
He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back. 
Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry. 
The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.
Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.
It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.
“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier. 
Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.
1K notes · View notes
aerynwrites · 6 months
Text
Unexpected, But Not Unwelcome
Gale Dekarios x afab!Reader/Tav
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A/N: based on this request - god I literally wrote this the second that I got it lol. Gale was the perfect one to write this request for imo and it was such a pleasure!
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: pregnant reader, slight angst, pregnancy, fluff.
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The longer you’ve lived in Waterdeep the more you start to understand why the balcony outside the study is Gales' chosen spot in his tower. 
You still remember the slight shock you felt when you first arrived to see the space was exactly like the illusion he showed you all those months ago. 
Now it’s also become your place of solace, much to the wizards delight. 
“Views like this are much better enjoyed with company. And I couldn’t wish for a better half to spend it with.” 
The balcony is swathed in deep orange light, the sun slowly creeping towards the horizon, the bottom just barely kissing the edge of sea way out in the distance. Her fading rays dance along the calm bay waters, the only disturbance to its surface being the few ships leaving or entering port. 
‘What do they carry?’ you wonder. 
Fine silks and clothing? Or perhaps rare spices from across the world. It’s a game you find yourself playing more often than not whenever you sit out here. But now…
Now it’s all you can do to try and focus on the ships, your mind constantly flitting back to the news you were given earlier in the day. 
You’d missed your monthly cycle a few weeks back, and while it wasn’t immediately alarming, that along with other symptoms finally made you decided to seek out a healer. 
Gale had told you of his plans to spend the day at Sorcerers Sundries, looking for a specific tome for research he was working on. So, today was the perfect day to slip away unnoticed. You didn’t want to worry your husband unnecessarily, but now you want nothing more than for him to be home, the news eating away at you. 
You’re pregnant. 
It’s honestly nothing you’ve ever truly thought about. Before the tadpoles, you’d been alone, just living day to day in Baldur’s Gate. Then of course the whole tadpole incident happened and then…you met Gale and fell in love and started to build a life with him here, in Waterdeep. 
You’re honestly surprised the topic never came up. But now, with it staring you in the face…a sense of uncertainty settles deep in your belly. 
Tara noticed immediately of course, aware of your unusual quietness as you retreated to the balcony as soon as you got home. You’d found yourself spilling the news to the intelligent cat as soon as she asked, her deep eyes softening ever so slightly as she jumped in your lap and curled up. 
You couldn’t help but sense a wave of excitement coming from her, though. A sense that somewhat calmed you despite the nerves running wild in your mind. 
That was a few hours ago, Tara hasn’t moved from her spot, lounging peacefully as you stroked her fur and watch the ships glide across the water. 
Only the very distant sound of the tower door opening and closing, and Gales faint greeting finally pulls you from your thoughts, that anxiety creeping back in full force as you tense. 
Tara sits up as well, stretching and letting out an enviable yawn. You wish you could be that relaxed. 
“Relax, dear,” Tara says gently, nuzzling your hand before turning to jump from your lap. “I feel you have nothing to be worried about.” 
She turned and pads towards the inside of the tower just as Gale appears in the archway, stopping to offer her a welcoming scratch before she disappears.
He sends you a warm smile as he rights himself, approaching and taking a seat next to you on the padded bench, arm wrapping around your waist instinctively as he presses a kiss to your temple.
“How was your day, my love?” He asks, nose nuzzling your cheek. 
You smile, realizing it doesn’t quite reach your eyes past the anxiety roiling in your chest. “It was good,” you tell him, not completely lying but not offering the full truth either. “How was your adventure to Sorcerer’s Sundries?” 
At the mention of the bookstore Gale’s eyes light up as he tells you about what he found. Slowly, as he talks about the new information he found regarding his research, you both maneuver into a more comfortable position. Gale moves to lay across the length of the padded bench, leaning against the armrest as you settle between his legs, back resting against his chest. 
His arms wrap loosely around your middle, hands resting over your stomach, completely unaware of the life that’s now growing there. 
His words fade into the background as your mind starts to wander again, your hands moving to rest atop his own, your fingers slipping to toy with the simple gold band around his ring finger.
You don’t truly have many worries about the news. You know that Gale will weather anything with you but…you don’t want this to be a storm, or anything negative. What if Gale doesn’t want children? What if he pulls away from you when you tell him the news or is just as scared as you feel?
Soft lips against your neck pull you from your thoughts, familiar fingers slipping between your own to give them a squeeze. 
“I know my research ramblings can at times be boresome. However, you seem to be lost to me more than usual this evening.” His words are gentle with just a touch of amusement as rests his head against yours. “What’s on your mind?”
You don’t respond right away, your nerves at an all time high and making your already tumultuous stomach even more uneasy. You squeeze his hand in yours.
“I went to see a healer today.”
Gale’s arms tighten around you, and you can feel the way he sits up straighter, your words concerning him. 
“A healer? I didn’t even notice - are you sick?” He asks, worry clear in his voice. “I cannot believe I was so preoccupied I failed to take note of-“
You tug on the sleeve of his robes, holding him tighter to you. “I’m not sick. At least not…” You trail off, taking your lip between your teeth.
Gale urges you on with a gentle press of his lips to your shoulder, and that action alone seems to calm the raging sea of anxiety within you. 
“I’m with child, Gale.” 
The silence that follows your revelation feels oppressive. The only sounds meeting your ears being the lapping of waves against the shore and the distant call of gulls in the air. 
Emotion clogs your throat as you clutch his hand. “Please…say something.”
You sit up then, turning to face the man behind you, but before you can fully do so, two strong arms wrap around you and bring you to your feet. Your surroundings turn into a blur around you as Gale spins you through the air, boisterous laughter falling from his lips until he brings you to a stop, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss. 
His lips are warm and his arms secure as he holds you to him, as if afraid this would all fade away if he were to let you go. 
Heat floods your cheeks when he pulls away, elation adorning his features as he looks at you, eyes glowing with an utter joy you’ve never quite seen on him before. He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks. 
“I’m going to be a father? We’re going to have a child?” He asks, whispering the words in unbelieving reverence. 
The smile that splits your lips is almost painful, any and all anxiety dissipating from you as you take in his reaction. 
“Yes they…The healer said I would start showing soon, and if we want…Towards the end of the pregnancy they should be able to tell us the gender,” you tell him, hands grasping at the fabric of his robe. 
Gale smiles wider, hands falling down to cradle your stomach and the new life that sits there. 
“It doesn’t matter,” he says gently. “They will be loved either way, and no doubt a powerful wielder of the weave if I have anything to say about it.”
You can’t stop the chuckle that slips past your lips, and the surprising happy tears that fall down your cheeks. Gale notices the streaks immediately, smile faltering ever so slightly as he reaches back up to wipe the tears away.
“Why the tears? This is a joyous occasion, we should be celebrating!” 
You shake your head, reaching up to place your hand atop his own as you turn to press a kiss to his palm. “They aren’t tears of grief…I was worried. Worried about telling you. I didn’t…we’ve never talked about children.”
Your husband smiles gently, eyes reassuring as he leans in to press a kiss to the corner of your lips. “I can admit that this news was unexpected, but it’s…it is not unwelcome,” he tells you, eyes bright once more. “I’ve never given much thought to children because of everything that had consumed my mind in the past and then you appeared in my life and took over the rest of my thoughts,” he laughs. “But this…” He presses his hands to your belly again. “This is more than I could have ever asked for. More than any power I’ve ever dreamed of having. I find myself filled with indescribable joy at the thought of creating a life with you - a family.”
You press your lips to his as soon as the words leave his lips, pulling him impossibly closer until you break away to nuzzle into the space between his head and shoulder, excitement and happiness threatening to burst from your chest. 
“I love you, Gale Dekarios.” You say, smiling as he pulls you tighter against him. “I can’t wait to start a family with you.”
You move to speak, but the presence of a familiar winged feline interrupts you as Tara rushes onto the balcony, wiggling happily. 
“Oh my!” She exclaims, weaving between yours and Gale’s legs before jumping effortlessly up to perch on his shoulder as you both separate. “This is most exciting! Another Dekarios, can you believe it?” She asks, turning to Gale. “Hopefully this one won’t light himself on fire like you did all those years ago.”
You watch in amusement as Gale flushes a light shade of pink, flicking Tara’s ear playfully. “I was just starting to learn to master the weave! And I was eight, you can hardly blame me.”
You chuckle at their antics and reach up to card your hands through his hair at the nape of his neck, drawing his attention back to you.
“Well, they will have the best teacher. There’s no telling what they will accomplish with you as their guide.”
Gale smiles, leaning down to kiss you one last time before embracing you once more. 
“We’ll guide them together.”
You hum in agreement, basking in the golden rays of the setting sun, the snapping of sails echoing across the water as you whisper against his skin. 
“Together.”
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Tags:
@dark-and-kawaii
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princessbrunette · 5 months
Note
I love stepbro!jj, what about step sis asking jj to help her cum because she just can’t get the write angles :(
HELPING HAND ♡
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tryin something new n decided to be less lazy with my writing and presentation. ♡
CW: step-cest, tiny bit of faux-cest if you blink i think ?? this is dark content technically, do not interact if that’s not ur thing. aside from that, usual warnings such as smut and mentions of past family issues. proceed with caution ❀
You loved when JJ came home.
It was simple, something he did everyday — well, most days atleast if he wasn’t off on some grand adventure you’d hear about a few days later, curled up to his side on the couch digging your toes into his thigh and begging him for details.
Anyway, JJ was different when he’d come home. Not like himself in the morning, running around frantically always half way out the door, still pulling up his pants holding the bagel you had put in the toaster between his teeth, ruffling your hair as he passes you as an apology for stealing your breakfast.
JJ when he came home was calmer. Not always super tired, just… done with the day, happy to be home, happy to see you. He was still warm from the sun, despite it having gone down hours ago, and always smelt like salt water still from being in and out the ocean all day. He’d wear a lazy dopey smile, dropping down on the worn leather of the couch beside you, spreading his arms along the back of it.
Today was different, and you wanted to be your usual silly and playful self with him, chatting until it gets late, your mother passed out asleep and his father taking a night shift up on the pier, a job JJ thinks he’s lucky to have talked himself into, yet pleasantly surprised he’s kept it up this long. Nights like these, your chatting would turn to playful wrestling, any excuse to get your hands on eachother and then a few guilty, chaste kisses once he’d inevitably pinned you. You weren’t in your usual mood however.
He hadn’t touched you in a while, not like that anyway. The glossy, pearl pink of your nail had been chipped off from your incessant nibbling, anxious thoughts swirling your mind regarding whether JJ had come to his senses, realising he shouldn’t be helping his little step-sister like this, and he’d rather just pretend it didn’t ever happen. God, had he spoken to someone about it? Been guided out of your needy hands? Your wondering had lead you to pull away slightly, not seek out his help like you so badly wanted to, trying to please yourself the way he did, attempting to remember the exact way he curved his fingers against your squelchy spot.
But your fingers weren’t long like his, and no matter how far you bent your wrist it just wouldn’t crook up to the angle you needed— and you didn’t even wanna get started on your lack of coordination in rubbing your clit at the same time, it was all too much for your hazy little head, and after pretty much working yourself to tears you’d resorted to huffing, pulling up your pyjama shorts and going to sulk on the couch in the dark, room lit up by old Spongebob re-runs.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes when JJ came home, and you wasn’t sure why. Well, you were — you were in a foul mood, and him walking through the door all warm and smiley and devastatingly charming just made you throb harder, clenching hard enough that you could crush a fuckin’ walnut in there. His dumb little sleeveless shirts and shorts and backwards red cap smushed over an abundance of sun-bleached hair. He didn’t even try, he just woke up and looked like that. It was twisted. How dare he.
“No ‘hello’? Y’know, you’re too pretty for all that pouting. Wanna talk about it? Talk to Papa J?”
He’s already teasing you, it’s like he knew. He flops down onto the couch next to you, leather covered couch cushions hissing under his weight, stretching himself across the space like he usually did. You wanted to crawl into his lap and rock against his dick and have your tongues wrap around eachother, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your step-brother, you both needed to resist for a painful amount of time before you gave in, to prove to yourselves you were good, normal people. You didn’t see the point, you’d said it once and you still thought it— JJ was just bein’ a good big brother, helping you out when you need him so desperately. However, the denial of your shared feelings had become routine, and if it’s what it took for JJ to give in and help you, you were happy to play ball.
“S’bad JJ, I shouldn’t say. Doesn’t matter anyway.” You all but huff, turning back to the TV. Your lashes flutter a little when he urgently shifts closer, tilting his head trying to gauge your expression. You kind of wanted to smile, you liked that he cared.
“Wh- yes it matters. Is someone bothering you?” Yes. You. A tidal wave of warmth brushes over your arms, stomach curling tightly in on itself at the thought of JJ being protective over you, teaching someone who was being mean to you a lesson. You bite your lip, and when you turn to look at him again he’s closer than he was before, brow creased waiting for you to speak.
You look at him, look at that little cut on his lip. The graze on his cheek. Wonder how it happened. You exhale slowly through your nose, brows furrowing and you blink a few times as you gather your thoughts. He thinks it’s cute when you do that.
“No one is bothering me. I just… I haven’t been able t’do what you did. As good as you did it.” You slowly spell it out, not wanting to say any of the crude terms, or even specifically have to own up to what you wanted. You said a millisecond-long prayer in hoping he would simply understand what you meant, but when you’d lifted your gaze back up to the blonde boy after shyly staring at your chipped nail polish, he was squinting one eye at you, mouth a little gaped.
“Yeah, uh— y’gonna have to be a touch more specific than that, honey. Know I’m a genius, but I ain’t a mind reader.” He leans back into the couch, relaxing once you told him no one was picking on you.
You clench your fist in your lap, looking up at the ceiling in despair as if the answer to your problems was up there. You drop your eyes back to JJ, the cause and true answer to your problem and brace yourself. “I haven’t been able to… touch myself as good as you did it to me. Tried all night Jayj, even started crying ‘cos I couldn’t do it right. Just feel all… empty since we last did it.” Your bottom lip pushes out and you curl your legs up so you could wrap your arms around them, physically making yourself as small as possible seeing as you’d wanted to disappear into the couch in that moment.
For once, JJ is lost for words.
You can’t handle the silence as he stares at you, contemplating his next action. So, you speak again. “Sorry Jayj… j’st need you to do everything for me.” You look so pitiful, it’s sweet in a kicked puppy kind of way. He’d like to consider himself a helpful kinda guy, infact he knew he was— he wouldn’t be in half the shit John B dragged him into every single day if he wasn’t constantly putting his ass on the line to help him. This was no different, this was risky. He could break up a happy family, ruin things for his dad if he got caught doing this. God, he’s such a troublemaker it made him want you more.
“Look,” He speaks, closing his eyes and fixing his hat on his head. He speaks your name softly and it just sounds better on his tongue than anyone else’s. You squish your thighs together, preparing to be shut down. Your face is all pained, and he realises you’ve come to him practically begging him to touch you because you’re hurting without him. His dick jumps in his shorts. “I’ve been tryin’ t’do the right thing. Y’know? S’not easy. When you walk around looking like that. Looking at me like that. You think I haven’t been thinking about the last time we—” He cuts himself off with a sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face. Was he mad? Your brow creases even more and he thinks you might cry, so he scoots back up to you, draping an arm round you like you’re just a kid who’s being comforted after a scolding. “It’s really that bad?” He tongues at the cut on his lip. You nod, feeling sorry for yourself and he exhales slowly out his nose. He thinks for a bit, and then just stares at you for a while. He think he might even kiss you, but then he speaks. “Lie back.”
You’re happy as a clam when you scoot back on the couch, happy you’re getting some special attention from your step brother. “Oh yeah, all smiles now huh.” He tsks playfully. You lean your back against the armrest, bringing your knees up and spreading your legs just a little. He rubs his hands over his face again in preparation before he turns his body to face you, immediately dropping down his gaze to see the wet patch in your shorts.
“Lord have mercy.” He shakes his head, a hand pressing thoughtlessly to the back of your thigh, spreading you wider. “Whyyyy do you do this to me?” He sighs under his breath, ever so casually pressing a thumb between your clothed folds, fat lips swallowing the fabric of your shorts. You suck in a breath, and release it with a whimper and his eyes leave your crotch to look at you analytically as you do so. “Jesus, alright. Take these off.” he taps the side of your hip, signalling to your shorts and you wriggle out of them, unsure what to do with them so you clutch them between your hands by your stomach. He swipes them from your hold and throws them over his shoulder, busying himself with slotting a couch cushion under your lower back. “Wont be needing those.”
“JJ, might need them incase someone comes in!” You whine, but he ignores you, stroking your thighs and squishing the dough of them, spreading your legs to witness your glossy, honeyed treasure between them.
“If someone comes in, we’re screwed as it is, shorts aren’t gonna save you.” He murmurs, adjusting himself in his pants, rock hard already. “Show me what you were doin’ and I’ll uh, I’ll try and teach you, yeah.” The blonde tried to keep his voice level, feeling better about himself if he kept this purely educational, just helping you learn your downstairs a little better.
You resist a whine, face already hot in embarrassment from asking. He watches your painted toes curl into the couch cushion, knees knocking together as you suck on your bottom lip shyly. “It’s okay, c’mon pop ‘em open again. Not like I haven’t seen it all before.” He cooes, coaxing you with a hand on your knee. You spread your legs, bringing your fingers to your lips and suckling on the tips, getting them nice and wet. You had to be doing it on purpose, this innocent act wasn’t gonna hold up much longer if you kept staring at him with those sweet doe eyes and pouty lips.
“Started like this…” You lower your fingers with a frustrated pout, dragging them down to your clit and jolting slightly when your fingers brush it, sensitive. JJ practically salivates at the reaction, watching you like a hawk, looming over you. He thinks back to the first time he touched you down there, and you got all choked up because it was too sensitive and you got all overwhelmed, clawing at his hand and saying it was too much. He recalls having to calm you down with kisses and tell you to just relax and let it happen. He’s been with quite a few ladies over time, whether it be at pogue parties, ex flings or FWB’s— none quite as sensitive as you though. None quite lovable as you either. He can’t believe he’s thinking that.
He watches you pant, his coarse fingers stroking your leg whilst you grind away at your clit, focused and letting out sweet little squeaks in response. “Pretty girl, aren’t you? Man, you’re so worth all the trouble.” He speaks quietly, intimately. You felt special when he spoke like this, never a time where JJ isn’t revelling in his bravado, loud and jokey, forever performing to deflect from his issues. You got calm JJ, intimate JJ, your very own.
You were already making a mess of yourself, so it didn’t take long until your fingers were curling down toward your hole, spreading your folds as you pushed them downward. You wasn’t too sure if that was for your pleasure, or for JJ’s view but it made you feel good regardless. You sink a finger in, eyes flitting up to watch your step-brothers reaction, clenching around your single digit when his eyes leave your pussy to look straight into yours. “There y’go.” He hums, and you get to work.
He see’s your frustration around 15 seconds in, when you just can’t get the right angle. You fidget, moving your wrist about, tilting your hips up a little— but after a while all you can do is let out a sad whine, looking to JJ for help. He gives in hilariously fast. “Okay, alright, lemme do it.” But he doesn’t start without gently taking your wrist and bringing your fingers to his mouth, briefly sucking off any remnants of you lingering on your wet fingers. “Real sweet, just like I remember.” He muses, making you trickle out more arousal from the way you clenched around nothing.
His breath catches in his throat when he slides his fingers up and down your folds, spreading them and taking the sight of you in. It wasn’t until you spoke up with a pained “Please!” that he swivelled his hand around, fingers pressing against your wanting hole.
“Lemme in, pretty. Thats it, g’nna need you to relax just a little, yeah?” He pushes a finger in and even then you feel the stretch, much bigger than your finger— and you still weren’t used to it. “Thats my girl.” He lets slip, and his eyes flicker to yours guiltily at the sentiment, only to see your brows pinched and jaw slightly agape, ruined cunt fluttering around his finger. “T’aww.” He cooes quietly, returning his eyes to the task at hand.
He lets the ball of his hand smush to your clit so you can grind on it, and at the feeling your knee jerks up a little, letting out a pleased yelp of surprise. “Shh, shh, shh.” His brow creases, a free hand holding your knee to keep you open. “Just take it baby, there you go.” He was really getting into it now, his pupil swallowing his eye, something darker about the way he stared at you in the dim light of the living room. He slides in another finger, and the coil in your stomach is already starting to tighten.
“A-already g’nna cum soon, Jayj!” You whine and he grins like an old happy dog, the brink of a laugh, wide lipped and toothy.
“Thats the point, right?” He teases, but you don’t take him in, eagerly humping your hips up into his hand, small and needy ‘please!’s spilling from your mouth. “What’ja need? I’m right here, babe.” His free hand strokes your waist now, thumb sliding along your skin to soothe you, possibly keep you quiet and calm.
“Closer.” Your lashes flutter, tears welling beneath them making the dark clusters kiss at the corners, bonded by the shimmering drops threatening to fall. “Want you closer.” You’re looking— no, staring at his mouth and he knows what you want specifically. He doesn’t care anymore, what’s a little kissing between step-siblings? Suppose it doesn’t matter when his fingers are buried into your cunt collecting a pearly ring around his knuckles.
“C’mere, sweetheart.” He grits his teeth, fingers going at your more vigorously once he leans over you, simply breathing hot air onto your lips for a moment before pushing his own against yours. You feel the cut on his bottom lip skim yours and instinctively your tongue lulls out to lick it, wanting to taste anything he had to offer. You felt depraved, your shame quickly fleeting as JJ drew you closer to your orgasm. You feel so dirty when you suck on his tongue, just the way he taught you last time, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat. God, you wanted him deep in your throat, wanted to taste him everywhere, devour everything he had to offer. How could you go from a naive young girl who knows nothing of intimacy to this little desperate slut all from a few kisses and JJ’s magic fingers (As he so charmingly named them) You were starting to think it was in you all this time.
“Good girl. Can feel it comin’, just gotta let it go n’relax. M’here now.” He groans into your mouth, fingers brushing that soft gooey spot deep in your core making you cry out. He had to pacify you with more kisses, wondering what it would take to get you over that finish line. He stalls, leaving gentle kisses across your jaw as you mewl, trying to find the right words to say. He knew it was words you needed, preening and practically folding in half for him anytime the blonde directed any praise towards you at all, even as simple as a “Good job!” in a day to day basis.
It was risky, but he thought he’d try something kind of sick. Test the waters a little.
“Gotta stay quiet, baby. Don’t wanna wake up your mom now do you? Probably better off no one sees your big brother helpin’ you get that pretty pussy off, huh?”
You’re clenching so hard it nearly pushes his fingers out. God, you’re both sick.
Just like that, you’re gushing, sweet moans and hiccups swallowed by JJ’s desperate mouth as he silences you by force, letting you ride out that orgasm you so desperately needed. “I know, I know, you’re alright.” He cooes as you do so, dropping kisses in where he can because he know the moment to do so will be gone soon enough, and the guilt will kick in. For now though, he enjoys the moment, enjoys the closeness, and for a second — he can pretend you’re all his, his girl — and not a step-relative. It makes his heart clench.
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myfictionaldreams · 5 months
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~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~
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Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.
Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags  ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥
you're mine (smut, angst, dark)
Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?
i need more (fluff, smut)
You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.
ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)
He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters
steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)
It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.
When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)
It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?
one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)
For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.
repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)
It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?
how many?(fluff, smut)
Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.
i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)
Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?
no touching (fluff, smut, angst)
You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.
i don’t care (fluff, smut)  
'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'
the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst) 
It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.
overwhelming (fluff)
It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.
the fun game  (fluff, smut)
Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?
harder, please  (fluff, smut, angst)
Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?
protect and forget  (fluff, smut, angst) 
Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?
All Eyes On You  (smut)  
“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers
you belong to me  (fluff, smut, angst)
These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?
dont fall asleep  (fluff, smut, angst)
It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?
rule number one.  (fluff, smut, angst)
It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.
Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2)  (fluff, smut, angst, dark)
Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?
our little bean  (fluff, angst)    
You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant?  Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).
the limit  (fluff, smut, angst)
Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?
sick day (fluff)
Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.
accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst) 
You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?
everyone is breakable  (fluff, smut, angst)
Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.
winter soup  (fluff, smut, angst)
There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?
something new   (smut)
The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?
pegging - kinktober  (smut)
Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?
cockwarming - kinktober (smut)
You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.
double penetration in one hole - kinktober  (smut)
You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.
fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)
You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.
role reversal - kinktober  (smut)
For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.
Duke, Duchess and Knights  (fluff, angst)
You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.
Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)
It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?
Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)
It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.
Drabbles
The first to give their jacket when reader is cold
Mad & Sad moments
Saying the wrong thing
TikTok trend: no kissing
Who is more protective?
safe space in your new home
Halloween Costumes
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alwaysshallow · 4 months
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@bunnyreaper's secret santa thing; I had the pleasure to write for @cooliofango ❤️ I hope you're gonna have the best time reading this, love.
AO3 VERSION
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Simon isn't there—that's the first thing you notice, when you wake up.
You think it's odd; he always sticks around, especially in the morning. Either he is reading something in bed, a book or an article, or tries to wake you up, softly, kissing your arm, if it was past nine in the morning.
Right now, even his side of the bed is cold, so he had to leave at least an hour ago, maybe more. You get up with a slight frown on your face, multiple questions in the back of your mind, what possibly could bring Simon out of bed. There's many thoughts, and they aren't really positive; usually if he had to leave, it was something military related. A missile missing, someone to rescue, intel to get or secure.
Being with Riley made you realize how fucked up the world is and how many times it needs to be saved. This time though, in theory, he has vacations that he asked for. Holidays with his girlfriend, he said, which caused you to grin like crazy one, since you loved this term. His girlfriend, his significant other with whom he decided to spend time with, even if he doesn't like holidays.
It's main reason why you aren't really doing anything festive this year; out of respect to him. Sure, you spend more time together, you plan to watch movies tonight, make some food, but nothing really related to Christmas. No lights, no tree, nothing what could possibly trigger his memory with the holidays and make the time worse than it already was.
But now, your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen, and your plans are under a big question mark. You don't even know where he is, if he is here, in your shared house that you've decided to buy a few months ago.
"Baby?" you call out, looking around. There's a few boxes laying on the ground, door is wide-open; if you wouldn't know any better, you'd assume that somebody broke in. Knowing your boyfriend though, how he secured the house... hell, it takes only one wrong move and alarm goes off, as Simon said once, shortly after he installed it.
So, door wide-open, bringing in the cold, clear indicator that he actually is here somewhere. And, sooner than later, you'll see him.
You prefer sooner than later, though, so you go through the door, just to see your man with a tree—Christmas tree, to be precise—with shocked expression on his face. Then, he puts it down, just to sneak his arms around you, tight. Just like he loved to do, practically from the start of your relationship.
For a military man, he is very touch starved, and you try every time to give him the love he deserves.
"You didn't wake me," you murmur into his broad chest, at which he chuckles. You look up at him, seeing his brown eyes sparkling.
"Sorry, love. Had to take care of some things," he says, his hand caressing your back delicately. "But 'm here now. Let's go to bed, yeah?"
"Oh, no, no," you laugh, shaking your head. "I want to know why there's a Christmas tree here. And those boxes? Seems like decorations to me, Mr. Riley."
He acts like you caught him red handed on something; Simon looks away and sighs, just to look at you a few seconds later with a semi-guilty look on his face. You have to hold back a laugh; he seems so stressed about something simple, it's adorable.
"I don't like Christmas," he starts, playing with your hair. "But I know you like 'em. Your eyes sparkle every time you see this shit, lights, trees, everythin' and—"
"—Simon, we don't have to—"
"—let me finish." He looks at you, a bit sternly, so you nod. You have to listen to him, especially if he asks you to. "And I just can't do this to you. Take it away from you. 'm a grown man, it's time to change some things. 'specially those hurtful ones."
You gnaw at your bottom lip, silent for a few seconds, as you try to collect your thoughts about this situation. It's hard not to cry right now, given how he overcomes his own weaknesses, just for you. Just for the both of you, so your future will be brighter.
"You are," you cup his cheeks into your hands, "the best man I've ever, ever met. I'm so lucky to have you, you know? A man that's willing to spend Christmas with me the traditional way, to
“You can't say this shit to me,” he warns, his voice almost a whisper. You raise your eyebrow, but you don't stop kissing his jaw, even when he sighs.
"Because that's so bad? Or because that's the truth and you'll blush any second?" you ask teasingly, at which he rolls his eyes with a small smile on his lips. To see his smile, to see how happy you can make him... you cherish every moment like that, knowing his history. Knowing how hard it was, how hard it still is because demons doesn't go easily.
Yet, you see the progress. His battle, to be more open, to allow himself to be more vulnerable at least around you.
“You’re gonna make me even more addicted," he explains to you, kissing your face a few times. He bangs with his nose against your eyeglasses, but he doesn't really seem to mind. "And I’m already weak. It's like... you're something that I’m not immune to. Everyone will see that later, on that Christmas party.”
He doesn’t say he loves you. That would be crazy, he thinks; every time he told someone he loves them, they died. He doesn't want it to happen with you, not when he didn't think of an idea how to possibly save you, keep you safe and locked, close to his heart.
But he can’t deny that you have him wrapped around your finger and you always will. Task Force 141 knows about you, they even invited you two to the Christmas party later, but the l-word has to wait. You know that he loves you anyway; maybe he doesn't say it, but his actions shows you enough love. And, he has other words—be safe, you know I care about you.
It speaks louder than simple I love you but he knows he's gonna say it. He has to, even for your sake.
"That's good. I love you being addicted." You grin, hugging him even tighter. "Because I'm addicted to you as well. To my big, wonderful boyfriend. Now... about those Christmas decorations."
You wouldn't think that decorating your shared house with Simon would be so fun and chaotic in the same time. Your boyfriend does the lights—since his height abilities are just insane—and you are basically running around with snowmen, reindeers and other creatures that you somehow can associate with winter. Riley also gives you disapproval looks from time to time, telling you to dress yourself properly, as you're just on your pyjamas; it ends up in you being in his big, warm hoodie, since you don't listen.
It's like everything you dreamed for, in domestic matter.
The best is taking care of the tree, though. You two have different ideas—yours with doing it in two colors that compliment each other, red and gold for example, which would give the glamour vibe of the house. Or, Simon's idea which is complete chaos. He looks so happy with placing the ornaments, that you don't tell him about color theory, you don't suggest making it less colorful either.
You just put everything just like he is, with instinct, and when he asks about your opinion, you can't help but smile widely and praise him for being creative. His enjoyment gives you the time of your life, honestly.
"You do it like it's in your blood," you say, laughing happily when he gives your cheek a big, wet kiss. His arms locks around you automatically, his lips dropping a bit lower.
"'st because of you. My girl," he purrs. "Maybe we should take a break and eat somethin', eh? Something Christmas-y."
"Christmas-y?" you repeat, observing with a small smile stomach how he drags you over to the couch, towering over you. He has absolutely no problem with crashing you with his weight, which feels so good considering how warm he is. "What would you like?"
"Anything my woman wants, I'll eat. My civilian woman."
You can't help the sensation of your heart fluttering at this view; at Simon kissing your knuckles, at Simon being so affectionate. You are sure that you haven't seen him like this before, not this open with his feelings.
"Yours. That civilian woman, for a superordinary man," you say, quietly.
“My civilian woman.” Simon’s eyes shine as he repeats your words, a light smirk forming as he gazes down at you. You really are gorgeous, so beautiful as you're there in his arms. "'m not superordinary, but I guess I'll take it."
He reaches over to remote, turning off the light in the room. Now, all that’s illuminated is the moonlight and sparkling, multicolor Christmas lights, casting a pale ray of light in the darkness.
Before he loses himself in your eyes, he leans over and presses his mouth to yours. It’s a slow, quiet, yet passionate kiss—one that sparks a fire in both your souls.
"That sounds very dorky, if you think about it," you chuckle quietly, still keeping his gaze. His brown eyes are fixed on yours, glimmering so gently, you can't help but be lost in them. God, it's even better when he turned off the light. You don't see each other properly, but the dark figures are adding everything to your imagination, when you continue this slow kiss.
You can only hear your lips smacking against each other.
“You’re perfect to me,” he says, his voice husky as he gazes down at you. You make his heart flutter. You always do, but lately, those butterflies have turned into something else, as he told you a dew days ago. "The most perfect woman in the world. Even if it's cheesy, as you say."
"You're such a cheesy man, Riley," you whisper, as you smile at his sudden comment how you are perfect to him. Knowing that he's not the best with words, and still says something like this, was just the most important thing for you. "But I like that in you. Just as much as your soft spot for those romcoms we watch. Even if you call them sappy and cringe," you say, closing your eyes.
"They are sappy and cringe. But it's our type of sappy and cringe," he murmurs into your skin, burying his face in your neck. Right in this moment, he doesn't seem to care about anything else.
And you don't care about anything else either, when you have him right by your side. Safe and secure, far from deployment, far from all those dangerous things probably just waiting for him out there.
"I love you," he whispers.
And you know you have your gift.
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fetusgooseandjuice · 4 months
Text
Trust Me
Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: You haven’t been able to sleep in a couple weeks, and Natasha knows just the way to get you to close your eyes.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: None? (If anyone finds any feel free to message me!)
Author’s Note: Heyy guys! I know I haven’t posted a fic in like 6 months, but I got writers block and it just never really went away. I’m not sure when I’ll post again, but I’ve had the idea for this fic for a while and I finally got the motivation to write it. It might not be that good but I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Think of it as a little Christmas gift :)
Author’s Note Pt. 2: Also, this is not proofread because I just wanted to get it posted so there might be some spelling and grammar errors!
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You heavily sighed once again for probably the fifth time in the past five minutes. It’s been a few hours since you and Natasha had called it a night, and yet here you were at nearly three in the morning still lying wide awake.
Although it’s not as if you were surprised or expecting anything else. You’d been having trouble falling asleep since the first night you and Natasha arrived in Norway.
Despite not having gotten many hours of sleep lately, for some reason you still weren’t tired and still could not fall asleep.
When your girlfriend came to you a week and a half ago and told you she had no other choice but to leave the states in order to evade the government after the whole incident between Tony and Steve, you instantly decided you’d be going with her without a second thought and left no room for her to disagree.
After all she should’ve known you’d follow her anywhere, but you guess it’s taken a toll on you.
You wanted to sleep, and yet you weren’t sure what was keeping you up. Maybe you were worried about something happening to Natasha?
‘What if she gets caught? Or what if we both somehow get hurt?’ you thought.
But you knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and keeping you safe at the same time.
Even with the amount of times you told yourself not to worry, your mind wouldn’t listen.
You eventually sighed and turned your head to look at the redhead behind you. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you and no matter how much she shifted throughout the night, she never let you go.
The mere thought of that would be enough to bring a smile to your face if you weren’t so frustrated with yourself.
Deciding you’d had enough of laying there awake, you carefully unraveled your girlfriend’s arms from around you and slid out of bed.
You almost shivered at the cool temperature of the trailer as your bare feet touched the floor and you made your way into the kitchen.
The random plastic bags on the counter rustled as you rummaged through them in search of something to snack on, finally coming across a bottle of water and a pack of chips you’d never heard of.
As you went to open the cap of the bottle, a pair of arms slipping around your waist startled you. The yelp you let out made the person behind you chuckle, and you relaxed recognizing the sound.
“Sorry, malysh (baby).” Natasha said and you turned to look at her to see the apologetic look she had on her face.
You gave her a slight smile before shaking your head, “It’s okay. But what’re you doing up right now, Nat? You should be asleep, you need to rest.”
She dipped her head down to press multiple kisses to the skin of your neck, “I could ask you the same question because so do you.”
You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to leave the warmth of your shared bed without her noticing.
“I just couldn’t sleep.” you said, making her eyebrows furrow as you opened your water bottle and took a sip. “But I know you’re still tired so you should go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.”
“No, not without you.” Natasha was quick to disagree, “What’s going on, dorogaya (darlin)? You were yawning quite a bit before we went to bed. Why can’t you sleep?” she rested her chin on your shoulder, ready to listen to what you had to say.
You sighed realizing that you were going to have to have this conversation now. Your shoulders shrugged, “I don’t know.” was all you offered.
Natasha stayed quiet, giving you the floor for when you were ready to add on. A moment later, you did.
“I haven’t really gotten any decent sleep recently, so I’m not sure why I can’t fall asleep or why I’m not tired.”
Your girlfriend pecked your shoulder blade, acknowledging that she heard you.
“How long has this been going on for?” she asked.
For a second you went quiet, not exactly wanting to answer when you remembered that now that she knew, she wasn’t going to let it go until she made it better.
“Since we left the states.” you admitted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Once again, you shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you.” you said. “You already have a lot on your plate with this whole situation and I didn’t want to add more to it.”
You heard Natasha sigh and now you appreciated that fact that you weren’t standing face to face at the moment.
“I guess I’m thinking too much.” you added. “At night I finally get the time to actually think about stuff, and I worry about you and if you’re going to be okay.”
Natasha was also glad you weren’t standing face to face right now because if you were, you would’ve seen the way her lips pulled into a smile.
“Well if you’re going to worry about me then I think I have every right to worry about you.” she chuckled and you fought back a smile at it.
“I’m sorry.” you said.
She didn’t say anything for a few moments until you heard her soft voice with that hint of rasp speak up.
“Look at me, krasivyy (beautiful).”
You craned your neck to see green eyes which were filled to the brim with love and tenderness staring at you, the singular warm light above the kitchen sink allowing her to see your sad ones.
The frustration that’d been building up in you beginning to melt away ever so slightly.
“I want you to talk to me about what you’re going through.” Natasha spoke. “I don’t care about what you think I might have going on, you’re always my first priority, okay?”
You nodded as she raised a hand to caress your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear in the process.
“I love you too much to have you worrying that pretty little head of yours all alone when I’m always right here for you.” she pressed her lips to your temple to emphasize her point. “So promise me next time you’ll tell me if somethings wrong?”
“I promise, and I love you too, Nat.”
“Good,” Natasha smiled and leaned in to connect your lips in a loving kiss, pulling away shortly after and leaning her forehead against yours. “I’m going to be okay, so there’s no need to worry. We’re both gonna be okay, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you agreed. You knew Natasha would make sure of that.
“Alright, do you think you’re ready to head back to bed?”
You weren’t sure how to answer that. Even though you were relieved Natasha knew now and you talked about it, you still weren’t even close to being able to go to sleep.
“No,” you spoke quietly. “I’m still not really tired, and I honestly don’t know if I will be until this all blows over.”
Natasha went silent for a few moments, thinking. She turned you around to face her and moved your arms to wrap around her shoulders.
“Nat, what are you—”
“Shhh,” she interrupted your sentence, “Just trust me.”
So you did.
Her arms snaked back around your waist and pulled you into her. You weren’t exactly sure what she was doing until she began swaying with you from one side to the other.
You’d danced together before, but at Tony’s many parties. Not when you were trying to make yourself fall asleep.
“Nat, I don’t think—”
“You’re supposed to be trusting me. Do you not?”
“I do, but—”
“So shhh,” she said and you couldn’t help the little giggle you let out. “You said you were thinking too much, right?”
“Yeah.” you confirmed.
“So just relax and let me do all the thinking. I don’t want you to worry about anything except trusting me.”
“Okay.” you whispered, giving in and resting your cheek on her shoulder, allowing her to move you.
A few seconds later Natasha began humming. It wasn’t a song that you knew, but you recognized it as one of the many Russian lullabies she’s hummed and sometimes sang to you before.
The way she hummed them always made you feel relaxed and peace, and this time was no different. Because soon you started to lean into her more as you became more and more weary.
Your heavy eyelids fell shut and your head found security in her neck as you cuddled closer to it, happily letting her comforting scent soothe you.
After a couple of songs, Natasha finally looked at you to find you pretty much sound asleep.
She grinned to herself and pecked your head before lifting you into her arms, making her way back to your bedroom.
“Told you to trust me.”
~ end ~
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blkgirl-writing · 8 months
Note
Hi, I saw your smut requests post and was wondering if you could write one about touch starved Gale finally being alone with reader/Tav and getting his satisfaction? (Yeah, I got inspired by your nsfw headcanons about him, how could you tell?) Please and thank you!
PS Can I be 🧀 anon?
What happened at the moon lit pond
Gale X Fem!Reader
Baldurs gate 3
It’s been, probably three years since I’ve written a full fanfic? I’ll admit I’m probably a little rusty. Thank y’all for hanging in, and I hope this fulfills our nerdy wizard boy needs. thank you so much 🧀 anon for the request! I hope you stay and request some more.
Important tags: lots of pining, some angst (no sad ending), smutty (male and female Masterbation, male giving female oral), spoilers for gales mid game story, romance, Gale is an anxious mess, The thought of gale brushing his hair from his face got me GOING 😩
Word count: 1.9k
(Part 1.5 HERE) (PART 2 HERE)
(Gale headcanons that inspired this here)
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-
Gale didn’t know how to handle these new feelings for you. He makes a fool of himself everyday, it seems. He always offers you a slice of his bread, even if you gave your own, he saves some of his own morning coffee for you, since he wakes up earlier, and even warm it up for you with a spell.
He simply wanted you to like him. That would be all he needed, but anything else that may follow that would be a true blessing. Gale wanted nothing more than to make you laugh, to see your smile and know he was the reason why, to camp and be the first and last person you’d speak to before sleep.
Gale wouldn’t let his mind wander much past that, or he tried to not let it. The occasional dream would slip through where you were his, and he was yours. It simply put him in panic mode In the waking hours, trying to not be obvious, scared you’d find out, what exactly? He wasn’t sure. You were too kind to break his heart so effortlessly, like he feared you would.
Endless scenarios danced in gales head of rejection, humiliation, and what would happen if he let himself go, life he was tasked to do. It wouldn’t take much, to convince him to live. Friendship, a place to call home, even if it was ever moving. Company he could entrust his life to. It was all so appealing. Luring him into life, breathing a new passion into his purpose, one he’d lost many years ago, sometime when he was alone for so many years.
Those thoughts seemed to linger on forever, sweeping over his barely conscious brain to awaken him again, rustling him from what could be a good nights rest. Eventually, Gale decided to just get up and go for a walk.
Camp had been set up in one of the most beautiful places any of you had seen. Waterfalls tinted emerald green, sand fine and shimmering in the light, may it be sun or moon. I’m one of those waterfalls, he found you.
Waist deep in the pond. Skin and hair dripping wet, shining more than usual water would, adding a silver glow to the night. You looked better than a goddess could ever imagine, and still, his eyes never dipped below you shoulders, even though he deeply wanted to look lower. Instead, he stood there, looking like a fucking idiot, gods know how long. Maybe a tree branch snapped, or maybe you finally snapped out of your trance, but your head whipped in his direction, eyes darting across the small beach, only relaxing when you realize only gale stands before you.
“Oh, Gale, it’s just you…” you let out a deep, jagged breath, the anxiety flowing out of your body just as quickly as it racked through it.
“Just? Are you disappointed?” Gale smirked, although his heart raced in his chest, one word and he'd sulk back to camp, but gods he wanted to stay and spend the whole night with you under the stars.
“Far from it, really. I was just thinking about how much you’d enjoy this view if you were here” you tore your eyes away from Gale, focusing on the stars. “I thought it may remind you of waterdeep. You paint a very beautiful picture of home.”
“I can think of a few things much, much more beautiful than Waterdeep,” his voice low, raspier than usual. Easily explained away from the lack of sleep or old sleeping bags, not for what it really was. Deep yearning, wanting, needing.
“I’d love to see them someday, then.”
“We’ll just have to get you a mirror, then,” “All the beauty in the world would reflct
"Gale, I-" You finally looked into his eyes, he wore his heart on his sleeve, at least for a moment. Those puppy eyes, dark bust glistening in the full moonlight, his hair messy from turning in his sleep, he wanted you, in many more ways than one. Gale's emotions could never be that simple, of course.
"Well," you walked towards him, water inching lower and lower, revealing more and more of your body, yet gales eyes stayed on yours. "Why don't you join me for a swim. It's a beautiful night."
"an offer I could not refuse." Gale's face was plastered with that cocky smile, the one that could melt anyone into a puddle in seconds.
He might have been a gentleman and kept his eyes upwards, but you were not so much, Gale untied his robes, gods why were there so many damn layers? It was quite a sight, his little mannerisms that showed more of him to you than he had shown to you. He was nervous, his fingers missing the simple ties frequently, he got annoyed by his hair getting in his eyes, a grimace appearing before he swept his hair behind his ear.
Your eyes lingered on his circle smoke tattoo, his toned arms, his downright massive hands. he was more tan than you realized, To be fair, he's always covered in those loose robes, leaving you to wonder what was underneath. You were more than happy to finally be finding out. But not below the waist.
"Isn't it a bit cold to be this naked?"
"The water is warmer than the air, I promise." You extended a hand out to Gale, even though he was feet away from you. "Come on, Gale from Waterdeep being afraid of some cold water? Sounds redundant."
"You got me there." He finally stepped into the glimmering pond surrounded by rocks and sand, enough to have your own little corner, to lessen the echo if it was needed. The whole camp didn't need to know all of your business. It must've been a magical lake, as both you and Gale noted separately. Unnaturally still, even when you moved freely, small glowing lights pooled at your sides, occasionally bubbling into the air once you leaned against a large, bright rock.
"May I ask what you were doing out here at this hour?" Gale spoke, still much further away from you than he wanted to be,
"Can I not take a mid-night swim?" You raised your brows in a questioning glance his way "A woman needs time to herself. These days and nights have been very stressful."
Gales very audible oh, slipped through the silence. "You don't have to relax alone." His eyes finally gave in to the need, scanning your body with a low moan slipping past his lips. His excitement was immediate, brushing against your lower stomach all the way past your navel.
"You've wanted this." You stated, brushing your hand against his thigh.
"There's plenty of magic around us, I want the Gale right in front of me." You dared to inch even closer, his thigh fully slipping between yours, inches away from touching your pussy. His hands floated inches from your waist, "Let me give you everything"
"Give me everything" With that, Gale's hand grabbed your waist, gently guiding you onto his thigh, motioning your hips down and swaying only him. The sensation sent sparks flying through his body, you were right in front of him, completely bare and rocking with pleasure onto him. Better than any dream he'd thought up, any fantasy that ran through his head even at the most inappropriate of times. Yes even during the throws of battle. Even in hard times like that, he was so drawn to you.
Gales other hand came up to your jawline, tilting your head so he could latch his mouth around your neck. Deep marks left behind while he inches his way in hickeys up your neck, jaw, and finally to your lips. Any semblance of anonymity flew out the window, not a single person could miss what he gave you, artfully placed dark spots painting your skin. "I have never seen such a beautiful being in my life"
"I could say the same about you gale," You said betwixt breathy moans, picking up the pace of your grinding hips against his thigh, his hand on your waist moving between a tight grip on your ass, and a light but so effective caress of your clit. Every time you got so close, his fingers moved, he was teasing you. His cocky smirk felt even through his kiss.
"I want you to come on my mouth." As if he was reading your slightly frustrated thoughts, "I want to taste you in my dreams."
All you could manage was a frantic nod, a mumbled yes, and shakily hoisting yourself up onto a rock that was perfect for gales pretty head to be between your thighs. Gale pushed your thighs apart with one hand, which stayed firmly grabbing onto you. The other sneaked up your thigh, tracing patterns along your skin. "Gale, please," you whispered out of pure desperation. The only warmth coming from your feet still in the water, otherwise your skin exposed to the biting air.
"All you had to do was ask, my lady" Gales fingers easily slid into you, curling up and pumping in and out, while he leaned into your pussy, maintaining eye contact as he placed one kiss just to the right of where you needed him to be. All he needed was to be touched, to touch you. Your legs wrapped around him to get Gale even closer, urging him closer.
"Touch yourself" Barely a whisper, but Gale caught it, and certainly didn't need to be told twice. Secretly, he could cum from this alone, your taste, how soft you were, how loud you could get. It was more than enough to orgasm right there with you, however, that is not exactly how he wanted your first sexual experience to go. His hand clutching your thigh came to his cock, rubbing much faster and harder than he was fingering you. he was eager. He wanted this to last forever, he wanted you to cum again and again and again into his mouth. He wanted his face even more dripping from your juices.
"Gale I can't hold it-" You nearly screamed, his tongue swirling and sucking, lightly biting, it was almost too much. Then, he moaned. A loud, deep moan and that was it. Vibrations running through your body from his mouth. there noise that left your mouth could've been heard across Baldurs gate, you silently thanked this magical pound for being so secluded, as you would be borderline embarrassed if people heard. Gales didn't come back up for hair until he was sure you were finished, getting every last drop of you.
"You certainly are loud" Gales tone was so smug it almost made you laugh. You gripped onto his shoulders as he swept you down from the perch, pressing his whole body to yours. After all that, after her definitely came, he was still so hard, and so pressed against you that you couldn't help but gasp. "I want to hear that again."
"Hear what, exactly?" you teased, lifting a finger to trace his chest.
"To hear you cum," his lips dipped down to your ear, slightly nibbling on it, before he rasped "and to feel you on my cock."
-
Part two, here
(Requests Open)
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aethes-bookshelf · 2 months
Text
let me be your shelter || astarion/gn!tav
This is the result of an especially hectic exam season. I started writing this fic instead of having a meltdown lol Now that I have more time again, I decided to finish it :) I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: hurt/comfort (mostly comfort), gn!Tav (can be read as a self-insert), Tav/Reader is the one being comforted
Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader
Wordcount: 1.5k
Summary: You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. Even after everything you'd been through, you put on a brave face. All the way up until you couldn't.
Luckily, Astarion's always there to pick up the pieces.
ao3 link
The sun was setting outside when you finally closed the front door of your house behind you, cloaking the entrance corridor in darkness. The straps of your pack were digging quite painfully into your shoulder, no doubt leaving angry marks on your skin. You threw it to the floor with a huff and closed your eyes for a moment,
The day's exhaustion rolled off of you in waves; hours worth of dust and grime stuck to your clothes and skin. Rebuilding the city after the Battle of Baldur’s Gate was a noble cause. It being noble, however, didn’t make it any less exhausting.
You tried running your fingers through your hair, but your hand almost got stuck in it instead. The firm tug against your scalp made your eyes water. Your back was on fire, your legs were on fire, your face was tacky with drying sweat. It was all so much, too much.
Curling up in a corner and staying there until the sun fell out of the sky seemed worryingly appealing. I still have to go back out there tomorrow, though, you thought. The ugly, choking pressure in your throat got tighter and tighter. Your eyes, still clenched shut, brimmed with tears.
‘Darling?’ called a familiar voice from somewhere on the other side of the corridor. ‘Why are you just standing there? At least light a candle or something. It’s not like you can see like this,’ the voice continued, getting closer.
There was the hiss of a match being lit; one, two, three candles lit up the darkness.
‘Well, not that you can see much with your eyes closed, anyway,’ said Astarion. All snark left his voice when he saw the first tears roll down your cheeks. ‘Oh, I wasn’t that mean, was I? Why are you crying, love?’
‘I-I’m sorry.’ Your voice broke. ‘I don’t- don’t know why, I’m just- just so…’ you trailed off as the first sobs tore out of your chest.
Just a few months ago, Astarion would be looking like a deer in headlights right about now. He still remembered the very first time you broke down after the whole Absolute-tadpole nonsense was over. After everyone else went their separate ways and you chose to stay to help rebuild the city and he chose to stay with you. Naturally.
The breakdown happened soon after. The second night the two of you slept in your brand new bed in your brand new house, the dam inside you just broke, shattered into pieces; and you were swept up in the current of the build-up grief and fear.
Astarion, as much as he loathed to admit it, panicked. He had no idea how to comfort people; after all, it wasn’t a skill necessary for survival for most of his life, so he never really bothered to learn it. He still hadn’t even after whatever the two of you shared at first turned more serious. You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. The stable one. The stable one never gets to cry, so you didn’t.
As ashamed as Astarion was when he realized it, he hadn’t even thought you could cry. It just never really crossed his mind.
Luckily for the both of you, he loved you far too much not to learn from his mistakes after that very first night of the rest of your life. He’d like to think he got comforting you down to a science.
‘Would you like a hug, my sweet?’ Step one was almost always physical contact. And not just because holding you became one of his favorite pastimes; rather, it was grounding for you to have something to hold onto when you got like this. Astarion would gladly volunteer to be that something whenever he could.
You didn’t trust your voice enough to answer, so you just nodded instead. You were starting to tremble; rarely a good sign. Whatever stress-induced breakdown was happening would probably be a big one.
Astarion knew better than to try to wrestle you from the spot you were standing in. It would do nothing except agitate you further, so he simply walked up to you and gathered you into his arms.
The moment you were close enough to hide your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs that had been building up inside you this entire time wrecked your body. You were wailing loudly; so loudly you’d be embarrassed if you had enough energy left in you to care.
Astarion winced slightly at first — you were close enough to his ear for it to hurt. Still, he held you closer, firmer. Just enough pressure to help you calm down.
Eventually, your wailing died down to sobbing, and sobbing turned into soft sniffling. He tried to run a hand through your hair; his fingers nearly got stuck in it, just like yours before.
‘Would you say no to a bath, darling?’ he said, voice soft and quiet. ‘I got some new scented oils a few days ago. I even paid for them this time.’
That got a small chuckle out of you. Your throat was raw and your face was even more sticky now; a bath sounded wonderful.
‘I’d rather like a bath, I think.’ Your voice was all scratchy. You’d probably have one hell of a time trying to speak tomorrow.
‘Come on, then.’ Astarion kissed the top of your head and gently pried you away from his neck.
Usually you were the one leading him everywhere; he supposed in moments like these it was his turn to lead you instead. He walked you to the bathroom, holding your hand. And he didn’t even comment on the snot you left on his shirt, which was a great show of understanding on his part — as far as he was concerned — although he did take it off and throw it in the laundry basket as soon as the two of you entered the bathroom. All his love for you didn’t mean he’d be okay running about in a snotted-up shirt.
He sat you down on the floor near the bathtub and filled it with water. He smelled each of the new scented oils with great consideration. The last thing you probably wanted at the moment was having to pick which oil to put in your bath, so he wanted to make the choice for you — and to make the right one.
After the bath was all prepared, Astarion helped you out of your clothes and walked you to the corner of the bathroom, where he washed most of the dirt off your skin. Making sure you could properly relax also meant making sure you wouldn’t be soaking in dirty water, after all.
Soon enough, you were sitting in the bathtub with your eyes closed. Right after helping you inside the bath, Astarion ran off to grab your favorite hairbrush. And now, he busied himself with detangling the mess your hair had become over the course of your day. He talked and talked all the while — about his day, about this awful thief he managed to thwart the other night, about the shopping trip he went on the day before — about everything and nothing, just to keep talking. Just to fill the silence with noise that would drown out your screaming, tired mind. He didn’t expect you to answer; it was enough that you listened.
After your hair was brushed, washed and conditioned, Astarion dried you off and brought you a freshly washed set of pajamas.
‘You need to sleep, darling,’ he said, handing you the clothes. He knew you were far too tired to argue with him on that. As endearing as your usual desire to stay up with him for as long as possible was, you needed rest — badly.
‘Will you stay with me?’ you said. You felt much better now that all the grime was off of you, but the thought of laying in bed alone made you want to cry all over again.
‘As if I’d ever leave,’ scoffed Astarion as he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom.
The coldness of his bare chest was a much needed comfort. You nuzzled closer to him as he threw a thick blanket over the two of you. He reached over to his bedside table.
‘I could read for you, if you’d like.’
You mumbled out a ‘yes’. Your eyelids were so very heavy, but the idea of hearing Astarion’s voice rumble in his chest right against your cheek sounded lovely.
He chuckled to himself. ‘You’re adorable when you’re tired.’
He started reading. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was reading, rather to the sound of his voice itself. The individual words and sentences blurred into one, continuous rumble. Listening to him speak felt like falling deeper and deeper into a pile of the softest pillows.
You were out before Astarion could finish the first fifteen pages of the book. He noticed by the end of page twenty. When he did, he gently put away the book and held you tighter against him. And he may or may not have left a few kisses on your forehead, but that’s neither here nor there.
Astarion got comforting you down to a science. And he was damn proud that he was the one you trusted to comfort you in the first place.
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folkwhoredoll · 26 days
Text
soothing touch - rafe cameron x fem!reader
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
synopsis: after a tiresome week, your boyfriend knows just how to help
word count: 2.1k
warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex, nipple play), soft bf!rafe
a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever say this enough but thank you for your support! however i might be inactive for the next days or weeks because easter break is over :< but i promise to keep writing whenever i can <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!
masterlist
+*:ꔫ:*﹤
“Baby, come lay with me.” You heard your boyfriend whine from the bed.
“Just a few more minutes, Rafey. I need to finish this essay, or I’ll lose my train of thought.” You replied without looking at him, eyes steady between your laptop screen and keyboard.
Rafe groaned, growing impatient after hearing you use the same excuse for the third time.
It had been over two hours since he laid on the bed and over two hours that you refused to join him. The past weeks have made you busy, considering you were a graduating student. There were deadlines here and there, you have experienced sleepless nights for the past few days, and coffee is probably the only liquid cursing through your veins.
Rafe knew it was coming and made sure to help in any way possible, but it doesn’t mean he was okay with it. He missed taking you out on dates and golfing sessions, but it has been almost a month since he was able to do so.
He came to your house a few hours ago and brought you snacks you felt incredibly grateful for. You welcomed and greeted him, then returned to your room to sit in front of your laptop.
“I’m sorry, babe. I promise I’ll just finish this essay, and then we can cuddle, okay?” You offered to him softly, feeling bad that you’d ignored him.
Rafe, who has a stern exterior towards other people, is always soft towards you. His eyes softened upon hearing your offer, wanting nothing more than for you two to spend the night together.
“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”
You flashed him a smile, your fingers desperately working to finish your essay.
Around half an hour later, you were typing out the last sentence for your draft. You inhaled deeply and stretched your back before shutting down the computer, deciding that you would just do your revisions in the morning.
“Finally.” You heard Rafe’s voice, making you chuckle, and excitedly made your way to the bed where your boyfriend was adorably tucked in the covers. “Hi, baby.”
You crawled in his arms, feeling extremely relaxed now that you were out of your stiff chair. “Hi, Rafey.”
“What do you want to do now?” He asked you sweetly, letting you decide depending on how you were feeling.
You thought momentarily, looking at the time and realizing it was almost midnight. Yet, surprisingly, you didn’t feel an ounce of sleepiness.
“Hmm, I don’t know. I’m not sleepy yet. You?”
 “Nah. I’m not sleepy, too.” Rafe shook his head before an idea popped into his mind. “You want me to give you a massage?”
Without hesitation, you agreed, nodding your head quickly. “Yes, please. My back hurts so much.”
Rafe gave you a pitied look. “Aw, baby. I got you; go get ready.”
You positioned yourself on the bed, grabbing a pillow where you can rest your head on. You sat up for a while to remove the thin sweater that hugged your torso. Your bra followed after you skillfully removed the clasps on your back. The amount of times that Rafe had seen you naked has made you shameless in making such gestures in front of him.
Meanwhile, Rafe watched your actions as he positioned himself behind you, hungrily eyeing your bare back before reminding himself that he was supposed to help you relax.
“Lay down on your stomach, pretty girl.” He spoke.
You did as he asked, sighing relief when your front side made contact with your sheets.
Knowing your room like the back of his hand, Rafe grabbed a bottle of lavender oil from your bedside drawer. He squeezed out a small amount, only enough to cover your back. Once satisfied, he warmed up the oil by rubbing it between his palms before putting it on your skin.
You let out a soft moan at the contact; the minty feeling from the oil and the feeling of your boyfriend’s large hands on your back made you instantly relax.
Rafe continued to give you a massage until his hands were dry from the oil, giving your back continuous strokes while you were on the verge of sleeping.
Little do you know, your breathy sighs have awakened something in Rafe.
He cleared his throat after several minutes, leaning down to check if you were sleeping. After seeing your opened eyes, Rafe relaxed and gave you a smile. “You feeling better?”
You mumbled a ‘yes,’ groaning as you slowly turned around on your back. “Thank you, Rafe.”
Rafe replied nothing, instead just lowering his face to yours in order to press a kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, making Rafe go crazy. He wanted nothing more than to go further but hesitated as he thought of your tired body.
Unexpectedly, you were the one who deepened the kiss, your hands subtly moving up to his hair.
“Baby…” Rafe gasped, pulling away slightly. “Are you not tired?”
“Not really.” You said honestly as you looked into his eyes. “Feels good, Rafe. Please.”
Your words were confirmation for Rafe, making him press his lips back to yours. You let out a gasp when your boyfriend’s lips went from your mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin softly.
“Hey, no marks.” You reminded him, remembering the time that your parents almost fainted when they saw Rafe’s love marks on your neck and chest.
“Yes, ma’am.” He cheekily smiled.
Rafe’s attention was suddenly on your breasts. He already had easy access to them after you removed your top. You moaned in surprise when his lips wrapped around your left nipple, your back arching as you tried to catch your breath.
“Rafe.” You heaved when his mouth attached to your other nipple, his fingers now working simultaneously as he toyed with the other one. When he was satisfied with the attention that he gave to your breasts, he straightened up his posture, and you took the opportunity to start removing his shirt.
You quickly get rid of his shirt, throwing it sideways as you focus on his shorts.
“Someone’s excited.” He chuckled.
“It’s been a while.” You pouted.
“I know, sweetheart. We have a lot of time.” Rafe replied softly. He pecked your lips once before crouching down. “Lift your hips slightly, baby. Let me take this off of you.”
You obeyed, pushing yourself up from the bed to allow Rafe to pull down your shorts and underwear. You took a deep breath at the realization that you were fully exposed but paid no attention when you caught Rafe eyeing your pussy while licking his lips.
“Well, what do we have here?” He smirked, his right-hand landing gently on your thigh.
“Rafe…” You whined lowly, feeling frustrated as his fingers teased you by drawing random circles along your skin.
“What do you want, Y/n?” He asked innocently.
You groaned. “Stop teasing me.”
He smirked. Rafe loves nothing more than seeing you surrender to his touches. And right now, he’s enjoying the growing smell and wetness of your arousal.
Removing his hand from your thigh, he pressed a finger against your clit. You jolted forward; the pressure alone is enough to stimulate pleasure to your core. “Fuck.”
Rafe’s finger gently circled your clit, both his cock and smile becoming more prominent at the sight of you. He surprised you by pressing two fingers in, his thumb taking over your clit. He began pumping, enjoying your moans mixed with the sound of your wet folds.
“Fucking hell, Rafe. More.” You demanded through deep breaths, your chest rising and falling.
He didn’t respond, pulling out his fingers after a few moments. Your brows pinched together in confusion, looking at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth.
“You taste amazing, darling.” He smirked and watched as you stared at his lips. After licking his two fingers clean, he lifted his hands and brought his thumb to your face. “Open.”
Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and took his thumb in. You sucked, tasting yourself and letting out a moan while maintaining eye contact.
“Fuck.” Rafe spoke, feeling his cock straining. “I was planning to go soft on you. But you seem more eager than I do.”
After you’re done licking his finger, he pulls down his trousers and underwear. Despite seeing him naked multiple times, you still can’t help but be amazed at his size, your thoughts growing wild with desire.
You watched as Rafe kneeled before you, his eyes on the same level as your folds. He pulled you nearer to him, your lower half almost hanging off the edge of the table as he wrapped your legs around his shoulder.
“You gotta keep quiet, baby. We don’t want to get caught by your parents, do we?”
Without any warning, Rafe pressed his face to your pussy, his tongue expertly slipping inside and sucking on your clit.
“Fuck!” You moaned aloud, instantly forgetting his words as you pressed your weight against the bookshelf behind you.
He slapped your thigh softly. “What did I just say?”
You ignored him, too focused on the pleasure that you’re feeling to control the sounds from your mouth. You squirmed against his lips, grinding your hips upwards to get more. Your boyfriend smiled proudly.
“Yes, yes, Rafe…. Shit.”
He pulled one of his hands away from you, lowering it to pump his manhood. His occasional moans caused vibrations throughout your body, your toes curling and your eyes shutting.
Rafe felt your legs shake, and he started to pull away. He needed you to cum, but not yet.
“W-what?” You asked desperately, almost whining at the loss of contact.
He gently shushed you, pushing himself up and lining his cock directly at your slits. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll finish you right here.”
He pushed himself into you inch by inch, your warm folds wrapping around him perfectly. Rafe groaned at the damp and tight feeling surrounding him, head falling back in pleasure as he settled perfectly within you.
You moaned once more, loudly this time as he started thrusting, his rhythm steady yet forceful. You repeatedly called his name, hands gripping the sheets around you as you shook in pleasure. Rafe looked down to watch himself disappear inside you, eyes filled with lust and pride every time his hips meet yours. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward, almost keeping them against your chest.
“That’s right, darling. Moan my name.” Sweat started to form on his forehead, his thrusts becoming harsher and quicker in desperate need. “C’mon, Y/n. Let me see you cum.”
“Rafe…” You cried, your cunt clenching and throbbing. The bed was creaking slowly, and you could only hope that your parents were currently deep in slumber.
The pleasure was overwhelming as Rafe focused on every part of you as much as possible. Both of you panting and covered in sweat, his hands working wonders on your clit and nipple while he perfectly filled your cunt.
“R-Rafe, I’m…”
“I know, baby. Cum with me. Come on, pretty girl.” He whispered closely in your ear, maintaining the speed of his thrusts as he rubbed your clit faster.
Your heart rate was increasing, and your body was shaking. But it was Rafe’s direct eye contact and sudden pinch on your clit that pushed you over the edge, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you released.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Rafe moaned at the sight, loving the feeling of your tight walls and warm release around his cock.
It wasn’t long until he pumped several more times before he gave in, releasing his juices inside of you with heavy breaths.
Neither of you moved for a while, still breathless and shaking.
Rafe pulled out of you slowly, making you whine. He cooed at you, pressing kisses on both of your cheeks. “Are you feeling better, baby?”
Unable to form words because you were still catching your breath, you just grinned and nodded, your hand rising to cup and stroke his cheek.
“Let’s get you ready for bed now, sweetheart.”
The rest of the night, you didn’t break any sweat. Rafe took charge of changing your clothes and sheets, even giving you a quick bath to refresh you.
On times like these, you thank the heavens for giving you a boyfriend like Rafe Cameron.
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daydreaming-nerd · 1 month
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You Want a Baby? (Bat Boys x Female! Reader)
Based off of multiple resquests... and by all means request more of this shit. My Ruhn asks have been kind dry. Would hate for the frat pack to run a train on the reader...
AN: You guys I spent so much time on this I hope it lives up to expectation because this is my kind of thing.
Summary: It's the perfect storm, you're ovulating, all your mates happen to be home and they all want to see you pregnant with their child.
Warnings: Double penetration, breeding kink, size kink, possessive mates, Over stim, literally so many things I'm probably forgetting
Word count: 3738
It was that time of the month, well not THAT time. 
Fae periods were a bitch, that much was true. But fae ovulating? It was a whole different thing. The need to be touched, to be filled, was excruciating. Ever since I had found my mates, three of them to be exact, it was like all those sensations had been heightened. Every time I ovulated, all three of my mates couldn't be present. 
The first time Rhysand was meeting with Tarquin leaving only Cassian and Azriel to fuck me senseless. The next time around it was just Azriel to keep me sated. One of the most memorable times was last year when it was just Rhys and Cassian to help. However, I patiently waited for a day when all three mates would be here to take care of me, a day I secretly hoped would be today. 
I woke up this morning to an empty bed and a note that said they had all gone to Windhaven to check on the Illyrian camps. I didn’t mind their absence too much until later that afternoon when I felt my body start to sweat with need. I went to the bathroom to strip off my clothes, leaving me only in the black lingerie that Azriel had bought me for solstice last year. I couldn’t help but admire myself, running my hands down my body. It wasn’t until then that I realized what was going on, I was ovulating. 
The boys were in Windhaven which meant there was a possibility that they could all be here by tonight. But with the tensions in the Illyrian camps high, I knew it was most likely a long shot. So I spent the day dancing around the townhouse in nothing but my lingerie, loving the feeling of the fresh air on my skin. As the sky got darker I realized my mates weren’t likely to come home. 
I made my way upstairs to our oversized bed and tossed myself on top of the covers. I tried to sleep and push all thoughts of Rhysand’s hands, Azriel’s tongue and, Cassian’s cock from my mind. I was unsuccessful, and ended up finding myself writing all over our shared bed, begging for any kind of friction the sheets offer me. That’s how the boys found me, squirming around our bed in nothing but my lingerie. 
“Well, what do we have here?” Cassian drawled, leaning against the doorway.
I sat up straight, trying to act like I wasn’t about to reach a hand down my panties just seconds ago. 
“I told you both,” Azriel said smugly, walking into the room with Rhysand in tow. 
“Told them what?” I ask bringing my knees to my chest in a lame attempt to cover myself.
“I told them that you were ovulating today,” Azriel smirked. “I’ve been tracking your cycle since I got left out last time,” he looked to Cass and Rhys with a death glare. 
“We got back from Windhaven a few hours and decided to get a drink at Rita’s,” Rhysand explained, stalling towards where I sat on the bed. “We were talking about you.”
“You were?” I ask, sensing the seriousness in Rhysand’s voice. 
“Oh yes we were little one,” Cassian laughs. 
“We were talking about how amazing you would look pregnant,” Rhysand explained, his voice like liquid sex. 
“R-Really?” I say, not trusting my own voice. 
“Yeah,” Cassain answered, taking a step toward me.  “We think we're ready for a baby.” 
“Only if you’re ready though,” Rhys assured me. 
My heart skipped at their words. The idea of carrying any one of their children excited me. I couldn’t lie, I had been thinking about it since my last cycle. 
“What do you think, little one? Gonna let us put a baby in you tonight?” Azriel drawled, leaving a kiss on the shell of my ear. 
I couldn’t even speak, all the intelligent words leaving my brain. All I could think about was how feral the fae were when trying to conceive. My legs would’ve fallen apart if it wasn’t for my arms holding them together. I nodded my head, still unable to think. 
A collective growl filled the room as Azriel grabbed my arms and stood me up in the center of the room, leaving me on display for each of my mates. They closed in on me instantly and I had to crane my neck up to meet each of their gazes. Cassian’s hand slid under the strap of my bra inspecting me thoroughly. 
“Which one of you bought her this little set?” Cassian said, slipping the strap of my bra off my shoulder while Rhysand worked on the opposite strap. 
“I did,” Azriel said, rubbing circles into my hips as he left open mouth kisses on my shoulders. 
“Well thank you Az,” Rhys smirked, unclasping my bra. 
My body felt like it was on fire from three sets of hands roaming up and down it. Even if I closed my eyes I could easily tell who touched me where. The sensation of it all had me tossing my head back on Azriel’s chest, trusting him to support my body. He grasped my hips tightly to keep my knees from buckling as Cassian and Rhys stared at my breasts now free of the tight black lingerie.
“Look at those perfect tits Az,” Rhysand drawled. 
I felt Azriel’s large hand drift up my torso and to my neck pulling me against his body even more so I could feel his hard cock pressed up against my back. His hand on my throat gently pushed my head to look at him as he said back to Rhysand
“They are perfect,” he smirked, craning his neck down to capture my lips in his. 
“And soon they’ll be full of milk,” Cassian pointed out with a smirk, swiping a calloused thumb over my nipple.
Rhysand bends his head down to take one of my aching nipples into his mouth sucking it taut. The gesture catches Cassian’s attention and he leans down to give the same treatment to the other side. The sensation has me arching my back aching to be closer to them. I feel Azriel’s hands grip my hips and yank me against his body again. His hand comes to grip my throat once more as he sticks his tongue down my throat earning a moan from me. I feel Cassian’s lips pull off my tit with a pop as he watches me and Azriel. 
“Gods sometimes I forget how tiny she is,” Cassian drawls running his hands up and down my sides. “Look at her with Az she’s like half his size.” 
Rhys stops his menstrations on my other breast to see what Cassian is talking about, “She’s practically half all our sizes Cass,” Rhys chuckles. 
“Gods I just wanna toss her around like a little doll,” Cassian curses. 
“Do it,” Azriel smirks, pulling his lips from mine. “You know how much she loves it.” 
Cassian says nothing before picking me up by my hips effortlessly and tossing me onto the bed earning an excited squeal from me. 
“Told you,” Azriel beamed with male pride. 
Cassian stalked towards me with Rhys and Azriel hot on his heels and I started moving up the oversized bed towards the headboard. 
“Oh no you don’t,” he smirks, grabbing my ankles and yanking me down the bed. I wait patiently watching Cassian untie the leathers of his pants, my mouth nearly falling open as his large cock springs out. “Come here baby,” he smiles and I eagerly sit up and lick the tip of his cock. 
I looked up at him through my lashes donning my most innocent expression as I took as much of him as I could in my mouth. The rest I pumped with my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Azriel and Rhys fisting their cocks at the sight of me sucking Cassian off. 
“Good fucking girl y/n,” Cassain moaned tossing his head back in ecstasy. 
I reveled in the salty taste of him, the feeling of every single vein in his cock massaging my tongue. I would never get tired of this, of pleasing my mates.  Cassian pulled me off him and pushed my upper half down on the mattress. My panties are ripped off and discarded somewhere in the room. There goes that set. 
“Stop Cass, make sure she’s ready, I don’t want to tear her,” Rhysand tells Cassian, the voice of a High Lord making its appearance. 
Cassian bends down to inspect my pussy, running a finger through my folds to find me absolutely drenched. “Oh she’s ready alright,” he smiles. “God baby your pussy is so fucking tiny. It’s a miracle you can take us so well.” 
“Cass please,” I whine, nearly coming undone at his words.
Cassian starts pushing his cock in me and the stretch has me backing away from him subconsciously. He grabs my hips and pulls me back towards him, pinning me to the mattress. I had been their mate for a while now but every time they entered me I still felt the stretch. Cassian was right, I was half their size, was a miracle I could take them. 
Cassian started trusting in me at a fast pace and the sound of our skin slapping filled the room. To my right and left Azriel and Rhys continued to stroke their cocks and as much as I longed to put them both in my mouth, Cassian had me in such a state of pleasure I couldn’t focus on anything else. 
“Fuck Cass look at her belly,” Azriel practically moaned. Cassian’s eyes snapped to my stomach where he could see the bulge from his cock thrusting into me. I moaned at the sight. 
“Yeah, you like that baby?” He smirks, leaning over to capture my lips in his. His pace speeds up and within seconds he’s cumming inside of me. 
Cassian pushes his cock in me a couple of times, his attempt at burying his seed deep inside me. He pulls out soon after and I whine at the sudden emptiness. 
“That’s the one that’s gonna get her pregnant,” Cassian beams with male pride, his cock already hardening. 
“Pfft, you wish General.” Azriel scoffs positioning himself between my legs. 
He pushes in slowly and I cry out at the stretch once more. Each glorious inch of him brings immense pain and pleasure. 
“Shhh be a good girl and take it all,” Azriel coos until his hips are flush with mine. “That’s a girl.” he moans as he begins fucking me hard. 
My mind goes to mush almost instantly and the moans coming out of my mouth are damn near feral. The need to be fucked and filled by each of my mates runs so deep in my veins. My hands claw and scrape and find Azriel’s forearms as he slams his hips into me, seeking out his own pleasure. 
“Az please let me cum, I-I’m so c-close,” I mewl, each word hard to get out. 
“Not yet baby, you don’t get to cum until we all have a load in that little pussy,” Rhysand drawls, pumping his cock. “Speaking of, step aside Az I’m not gonna last much longer.” 
“No, I’m not done with her yet,” Azriel growls, his possessive side coming out. 
“You think I can fit in there with you then?” Rhysand asks. 
“Now this I gotta see,” Cassian jests. 
The thought of two cocks fucking my pussy at once has my eyes glazing over and my mouth falling open like I’m in some sort of subspace. 
“I can take it,” I choke out between Azriel’s thrusts. 
“Pick her up Az,” Rhys says, his voice practically dripping with lust. 
Azriel doesn’t stop his minstations as he wraps one of his arms around me, lifting me off the bed. My arms wrap around his neck as my forehead bumps his and he stares me down as he fucks me mid-air.  
“Good girl,” he rasps, proud of how well I’m taking him.
The next thing I know he’s lying me down again, Rhysand’s warm chest replacing the mattress. His hands wander up and down my sides trying to soothe my nerves as Azriel stops moving. 
“Alright little one take a deep breath for me,” Rhys instructs and I can feel him lining his cock up at my entrance. 
I do as I’m told, taking the deepest gulp of air possible, excited for what comes next. The second I let my breath go I feel Rhys pushing his cock into me aside Azriel’s. The stretch is more than any I’ve ever felt before but the sounds escaping Rhys and Azriel’s mouths make it so worth it. Once Rhys is brushing my cervix along with Azriel tears prick my eyes and Cassian is kneeling before me in an instant. 
“Shhh breathe baby,” Cassian coos, glancing down to where both his brothers' cocks are seated inside my pussy. “Fuck, you’re being such a good girl. Just gotta take two more loads and then we’ll let you cum alright?”��
All I  can muster is a shallow nod as Rhys and Azriel begin thrusting in tandem. The constant feeling of fullness has me feeling numb while feeling everything all at once. I arch my back further and Rhys runs a hand down my hip to hold me in place so that he doesn’t slip out. My eyes glance to Azriel who has his eyes fixated on the bulge in my stomach being made by both his and his High Lord’s cock. All the while, Cassian brushes the sweat and hair away from my brow whispering praises to me. 
“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” Rhys groans, the vibrations of his chest skittering down my back. 
“Me too,” Azriel moans and within seconds I feel his sperm coating my walls just like Cassian’s. 
Azriel cumming triggers Rhys to cum as well and even though I can still feel Azriel, the load my High Lord put in me is equally as distinct. 
“Holy fuck,” Azriel groans pulling out of me inspecting his work. My breaths are so ragged and my vision so blurred that I can barely make out Rhysand’s voice. 
“Take her Cass,” he mutters, or so I think. My assumptions are proven right when I feel Cassian’s arms snake around me, pulling me off of Rhys’ cock.
 I whimper at the loss of the fullness as Cassian lays me on top of his chest stroking my hair and kissing my brow. My body vibrates and my heart pounds with the need to cum. 
“Poor baby, you wanna cum don’t you?” Cassian coos tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. My eyes are glassed over and my face looks fucked out but I’m still able to nod. 
“Make her cum Cass, I want us each to get one more load in her before we’re done,” Rhysand says, already fisting his cock. 
“Rhys I’m not sure, look at her. I don’t think she can take much more.” Cassian warns, placing me against the pillows and moving down my body. 
“Do you want her pregnant or not?” Rhys snaps.
“Of course I do,” Cassian says. “Can you take three more loads baby?” he asks me. 
“Of course she can,” Azriel says, his cock already at attention from seeing his fucked out mate. 
“I-okay,” I sputter, still vibrating at the need to be touched. At this point, I was practically bucking my hips into Cassian’s face. 
“You want me to lick your pretty clit?” Cassian smirks using one arm to pin my hips to the mattress and the other to spread my folds. 
“Y-yes,” I beg. 
Cassian chuckles, his eyes fixed on my cunt, “Looks like we made quite the mess of her little cunt,” he muses and both Rhysand and Azirel peer down to investigate. 
“Shit Cass it’s spilling out,” Azriel curses. 
“Don’t worry brother,” Cassian assures him, as he presses two fingers inside me, pushing the cum deep inside me. “She won’t waste it. Will you baby?” He smiles at me. 
“No, I w-won’t,” I say, meaning every word my body still shaking. 
“Cass lick her little clit or I will, the poor thing is shaking,” Rhys orders Cassian. 
Cassian doesn’t waste a moment before lowering his mouth to my pussy  and attacking my clit. It only took five kitten licks for me to orgasm harder than ever before. My back arches off the bed and the tension from my body pushes more of my mate’s cum out of my aching hole. 
“Ah ah ah,” Cassian says, pushing two fingers into me again. “What did we say about wasting?” 
“Cass it’s your turn,” Azriel bites close to spilling his load. 
“Spread em’ baby,” Cassian smirks, spreading my legs for me anyway before burying himself inside of me. 
“Oh gods Cass!” I cry out as he starts fucking me relentlessly chasing his own release.
“Fuck I love seeing that little bulge,” Cassian grins, placing a hand over where his cock hit my belly.
 Seconds later he’s spilling his load into me, a sound coming from his mouth that I’ve never heard before.  My vision nearly goes black, the only thing keeping me grounded is Cassian gripping my throat and pulling me up to kiss me as his second orgasm coats my walls. 
“Who’s next?” Cassian asks, pulling out of me. 
“Me,” Both Rhysand and Azriel say at the same time. 
“Back off Az, you got to have her first last time,” Rhys growls. 
Whenever I told people I had three mates they would usually joke about how territorial they would get over me. The irony was that my mates almost  never had a problem sharing me, but tonight? Well, tonight was just one of those nights. When mates were trying to conceive they were practically feral, I was honestly surprised things had gone so smoothly till now. 
“Yeah, and I literally had to share her pussy with you!” Azriel roars. 
Cassain drags me up to lay my upper half on his chest so he can run a hand through my hair and whisper praises to me.
“I’m pulling rank, as your High Lord I’m going first,” Rhysand orders, nudging my entrance. 
“Fuck off Rhys,” Azriel says continuing to fist his cock. 
Rhys pushes his cock inside me with a groan as he bottoms out. My body shudders and on instinct, I move away from him but he grips my hips and brings me down his cock again fucking into me hard. 
In my haze my head falls to the side, my cheek grazing Cassian’s abs, the very ones he let me rut on to get off a few weeks ago, and I meet Azriel. He looks glorious, pumping his cock while watching Rhysand fuck my hole. On instinct, I reach my tongue out and lap at the head of his cock catching his immediate attention. 
“You wanna suck it baby?” He muses brushing his cock against my lips. I open my mouth wide, sticking my tongue out in response.
 I know I’m so fucked out I can barely wrap my lips around him but Rhys pulling rank seemed like a dick move and I wanted to remedy it in any way I could. Azriel pushes his cock into my mouth letting out a guttural moan in the process. 
“Good fucking girl,” Azriel moans and it spurs me on to suck him even harder as he fucks my mouth. 
“Oh fuck,” Rhys roars cumming into me for the second time tonight. He knows better than to stay seated in me longer than necessary and pulls out as soon as possible. Azriel’s cock follows, his cock leaving my mouth with a bead of saliva dripping from it.  
“Are you fucked out my love?” Azriel croons, grabbing my jaw to face him. It’s evident from my hazy eyes that I am.
“One more load sweetheart,” Rhys whispers, pressing a kiss to my brow. “You want a baby in your belly don’t you?” 
“Uh huh,” I rasp still unable to form actual words. 
“Open,” Azriel orders his grip on my jaw tightening.  
Of all my mates Azriel was always the most dominant. I loved to test Rhys and Cassian, but when it came to Az? I knew it was in my best interest to be a good girl. 
So just like I had a million times before I opened my mouth nice and wide for him. His hand gripped my jaw, keeping it open before he spit in my mouth. 
“Now swallow,” he growled and I followed his orders once again. I opened my mouth to show him I had been a good girl and he rewarded me by pushing his cock inside me. 
“What was that about Az?” Cassian laughed stroking my hair. 
“Grounding her, if I’m gonna pump a load in her I want her to feel it,” Azriel groans. “We’ve done it before, haven't we baby?” he asks me and I nod enthusiastically. 
Rhys wipes the sweat from my brow as Cassian presses a hand down where Azriel’s cock makes a bulge in my belly. 
“She’s gonna cum Az,” Cassian informs his brother. 
“Fuck I can feel it. Her tiny cunt is squeezing me so tight I can barely fuck her.” Azriel groans. “Ready baby?” Azriel asks me and I nod once more. “1…2…3…Fuckkk,” Azriel moans, spilling his seed into me.
Despite the haze that fills my head I can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment knowing I did it.  I gave each of my mates two orgasms the evidence dripping from my sore cunt, wait fuck. 
“Waste!” is the only word I can get out as I feel all six loads of cum spilling out of me. 
“Shh, it’s okay mate,” Azriel coos, pressing a kiss to my brow laying down on the side that wasn’t occupied by Rhys. “Cass plug her up,” Azriel continues. 
 Without warning, two of Cassian’s fingers slide into my pussy keeping their combined cum from leaking out. 
“Get comfortable mate,” Cassian chuckles. “We’re gonna have to sleep like this.” 
And sleep I do. With Cassian behind me, my head on Rhys’ chest, and Azriel using my stomach as a pillow I’m out within minutes. I don’t know what the future holds as far as children go, but I’d say this was a good first attempt at conceiving.
pregnant! Reader x bat boys Drabble
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seresinhangmanjake · 9 months
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Rather Be With You
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
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Summary: Jake has been away for six months and he just hopes you waited for him.
Warnings: cursing. I think that's it.
Notes: this was inspired by an ask (💐) from a bit ago. Sorry it took so long. So much happened in the last week and a half, some good some bad, and it just got on top of me. Writing had to come second. I have probably written better in my life haha, but I tried.
Words: 1972
---
“You know he's only messing with you, right?”
He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees as he wrung his hands together. Surely it had been a while. For the entirety of the morning, perhaps? Rooster had made his teasing comments at seven a.m. sharp and they were due to dock at noon. Had it been that long? Or had he really managed to shove many hours worth of painful thoughts into just a few short minutes? Somehow, he figured, it was one or the other. No in-between.
When his eyes flicked up, Nat’s face seemed to hint at the former. 
It made sense, he supposed. Spending hours thinking about you wasn’t exactly uncommon. Usually, though, those thoughts were a bit nicer, with you naked and smiling, laughing, or whispering sweet words to him. He liked those better than the ones that had plagued him for…well, however long he’d been sitting there.
“He knows what he said isn’t true,” she continued. “He wouldn’t have had the balls to make jokes like that if he thought they would hold any weight. Trust me, no one particularly enjoys pissing you off.”
He wasn’t pissed off, though. He was devastated at the seeds of doubt planted in his head; at the pain and insecurity that came with the twisted knife to his gut. He hated the images forced into his mind at his friend’s words; the ones of you with other men; the ones that made it terribly clear how little you considered or missed him in his absence. 
“Jake, she waited for you. I know she did.”
“Yea? How?” he asked. 
Phoenix opened her mouth quickly, just as he would have had someone asked him a few hours ago if you loved him like he loved you—ready to confirm with a smile on his face. But if made to think of the answer for more than a half-second, without the hope and giddiness fueling his enthusiasm, he realized he couldn’t actually say for sure if you loved him, just as Nat now could not say with certainty that you had waited for him. 
Her mouth closed. 
"Exactly. You don't know," he said. "It’s not like I was smart enough to ask her to be my girlfriend before we left. She has no obligation to me, so why would she have bothered to wait six months to have me when she could have anyone?"
The brunette shook her head. “I don’t believe she's like that."
Leaning back against the bench and crossing his arms, Jake just barely held himself back from a scoff. "Like what, Nat? That wouldn't make her anything other than a woman who found someone new to sleep with after the guy she was sleeping with disappeared for half a year.”
“But you didn’t—”
“I know I didn't disappear. But I’ve been gone longer than we’d been together," he said, his voice drifting as he imagined what he hadn't stopped to consider before; a nightmare that, if proven true, would cleanly snap his heart in half. "Joke or not, Rooster could very well be right.”
"You're overthinking,” Penny’s voice snuck in from your left. 
She reached out to take the beer glass from your hand, polished almost too clean after the twenty minutes you spent absentmindedly running a rag over it. Your mind had been too occupied with troubled thoughts to notice your unceasing drag of the dishtowel around the cylindrical shape of the glass. 
It came free from your hand with ease, and as Penny placed it back on its shelf, you spewed, "What if he hooked up with someone? What if he decided six months was too long to wait for a woman that isn't his girlfriend?” You finally faced her just to find her rolling her eyes. “He likes sex, Penny. A lot. There are plenty of willing women and he's practically insatiable."
"When it comes to you, maybe."
The tenseness in your shoulders from well-formed stress was heavy with your exhale, forcing your shoulders to fall forward and your posture to take a hit. "Penny…" you groaned.
"I'm telling you, there's no way he messed around with anyone,” she swore, leaning back against the bar. "Besides, it's frowned upon to get involved with your coworkers."
"You think that's ever stopped Jake?"
She pursed her lips and tilted her head from side to side as she considered. "Ok, fair enough,” she agreed. “Once upon a time, that definitely wouldn't have stopped him. But after meeting you, he hasn't looked at another woman."
You couldn’t say that provided you with any relief. Jake had always presented as an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ type of man. He wasn’t a worrier. Once something exited his periphery, it promptly left his brain, discarded with all past challenges or predicaments. And wasn’t that what you were? An obstacle? He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend for a reason. Holding on to you for more than just the night didn’t necessarily make you more special than any of the other women. Perhaps it simply made you convenient.  
"You don’t know, Penny. You’re not with him 24/7."
Penny muttered something under her breath. Her fingers rose to rub at her temple and when they dropped back to her side, the stare she shot you was imbued with determination. "Look, my bar is where Seresin used to do his "best work," as he liked to say,” she said, and you made a face. "But the only work he's been putting in since he met you has involved getting you to like him and making you happy after you two started your little…thing." 
"You may not pay attention, but I do," she practically scolded. "Now, a month ago you were excited to meet him when he got back, and then you let your thoughts get away from you and it’s fucking everything up." 
To your own shame, you couldn't deny that. So you didn't bother, rather opting to nibble on your thumbnail.
"They'll be back soon, so are you coming with me or not?"
He didn’t know what he was doing, standing there with his bag over his shoulder. But he felt like a heavy weight, an anchor in a sea of levity. Looking around, the men and women he’d been packed in with for the last six months were thrilled, the room sprinkled with smiles and laughs of giddiness in anticipation of having their families in their arms again. 
He didn’t have that. 
He wanted to have it, but that was fully reliant on you. Your feelings. Your wants and desires. Your plan for your future. Jake could imagine a world where he had the strength to beg to be a part of your life—to plead as desperately as if fighting for enough air to fill his lungs—but reality made that entirely out of his will and control. So he didn't shove his way forward when they made it home. He couldn't bring himself to jump in front of the others who had people waiting for them upon their return. Instead, he let them file out, his team included, until he was one of the final few to step back on dry, solid land. 
As he walked by couple after couple, family after family, his already weak composure began to crumble at its edges. The people milling around him felt like a mocking montage of the life he didn’t have. Men and women kissing their partners or spouses, hugging their children with no intent of letting go, their tears coating the ground with joy. 
Jake's chest constricted. He needed to get himself on the other side of it, but weaving through the mass of bodies proved harder than he expected. 
His shoulders bumped into theirs, his chest skimming across backs and limbs when he turned to his side to sneak through narrow openings. Little kids ran into his legs like spinning tops on the loose from their wound-up energy finally releasing, though each one quickly recovered and returned to their parents, maintaining the same level of enthusiasm they had prior to smacking face-first into a muscled calf. 
With each unintentional nudge, he apologized, but no one so much as noticed, too engrossed in their relief at making it home unscathed or in seeing their loved ones still intact. Somewhere, his teammates were doing the same. They’d found their partners, and he thought he’d found his, but his overconfidence in your feelings kept him from ensuring you were actually together. And maybe it was too late. Maybe he would have no choice but to watch you move on from him.  
Finally breaking through the edge of the crowd, Jake took his first deep breath. He didn’t look back as he made his way to his truck. He didn’t turn when rushed footsteps grew closer until they sounded as if right on his tail. 
“Jake.”
He paused and sighed. He should’ve known he would imagine your voice. Six months without that lovely sound, his only chance at hearing it being within his dreams, took its toll. It haunted him like a ghost on that ship. Of course it wouldn’t cease just because he was home.
“I was calling you, but you didn’t hear me.” There was a soft chuckle, then, “Well, at least I hope you didn’t hear me.”
He spun on his heel and was greeted with your smile. It lacked its carefree nature, instead just barely failing to conceal a twinge of nerves, but beautiful nonetheless. He couldn’t help but smile back. 
“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a few steps closer. 
“I came with Penny.” The roundness of your cheeks turned pink from your blush. You lightly shrugged. “I missed you.”
With those words, Jake knew Rooster was deserving of a swift smack upside the head, one he very well may deliver. You cared. You missed him, even. 
Fucking Rooster.
“Oh, I, um,” you continued, your eyes falling down to your hand. “I got you these. It feels silly now, but at the time I thought they would be nice, I guess.”
He followed your line of sight to the small bundle in your hand. Five long stems were tight in your grip, the bulbs on their ends made up of layers of silky red petals. 
"I was thinking," you swallowed hard and met his gaze, "I don't actually know if you like flowers. And if you do, I didn't know your favorite. I just picked mine." The sweet grin that returned to your face practically demanded he kiss you. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. All of you. Every little bit. 
And you weren't wrong. He hadn't had a favorite. 
He did now. 
Jake swallowed through the tightness in his throat, fighting back the stinging in the corners of his eyes. 
He didn't get gifts, and certainly not from the women he was with. But then again, with the exception of you, he hadn't chosen to be with a woman for more than a night or two in the last decade. 
"I like the yellow ones but they symbolize friendship and that wasn't really what I was going for, so I—"
"I love you.”
Your smile, your jaw, your hand, fell. "You…what?"
He let out a chuckle and reached for you. "Come here."
You didn't hesitate sliding your hand into his and he quickly pulled you to him, your chests hitting, lips meeting with an intensity that he hoped expressed even just a lick of how much he missed you. You draped your arms around his shoulders and the petals of the flowers tickled the nape of his neck. 
"Six months was too long," you whispered when you separated. 
He nudged his nose against yours. "Way too long."
---
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @leila22rogers
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cosmicsully · 8 months
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OBSESSED WITH YOU
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aged up!Neteyamx aged up!human(f)!reader
Summary: In which…. Neteyam crosses paths with a human, but what is that sudden obsession with her, where did that need to protect her come from?
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: fluff, Y/N’s personal space is quite literally violated by Neteyam, Y/N is the first Human Neteyam has ever seen, Neteyam barely speaks/understands English, kissing, slight make out, lowkey unrealistic storyline lmao
My Masterlist <3.
What are you called? = fyape syaw fko ngar Stay calm = mawey beautiful: (of people) = sevin take it off = kämunge tsal I want to see = Oe new ne kame hurry up = win säpi nefä so soft = nìftxan 'ango
I hope you enjoy! If you do, feel free to reblog, I might consider writing more parts to this :) <3
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I can still remember how it happened. The day that I met Neteyam still lingers in my mind, the young Na´vi boy consuming my attention at all times.
About a week ago, I can still feel the soft breeze of air flushing against my legs, I remember smelling the green plants that had just been drowned in the heavy rain the previous night. The loving light of the warm sun embraces my figure as I walk across a muddy path, trying not to step on any kind of animal. I was outside although I was not allowed to leave the lab. Secretly slipping out of the back door, the mask that is pumping oxygen into my lungs well secured on my face, as I made it my new goal to explore Pandora further.
It is a memory I cherish. The adrenaline that runs through my veins as I took one step after the other, putting as much space as possible between me and the lab.
With the feeling of well-secured safety and no one having caught me fleeing from my home, I slowed my steps, taking in my beautiful surroundings. All kinds of exotic colorful plants surround my form, my eyes darting to one and then another, trying to see everything all at once. My ragged breathing slowed down as I sprinted across the mud, my feet now slightly covered in it.
I can’t help but feel joy consume me whole.
The beauty of Pandora yet again swallowed me, pulling me in. I let my feet work on their own, deciding on taking a small walk to find new interesting and unexplored corners. My fingertips glide against a pulsating bluish plant, as it vibrates against my hand in return, letting myself smile at the uncommon feeling.
This world is so alive.
It is beautiful, I hope its owners treat it well, with respect and cherish it just as I do. Although from the stories I have been told, Na’vi are very spiritual species who inhabit these forests. And now that I think of it, I have never truly seen a real Na’vi.
Dreamwalkers don’t count.
Not letting my mind linger on the thought of facing a real Na’vi, I continued my exploration, It felt like mere minutes, but because it was slowly becoming darker around me it must have been at least a few hours. The only sound that reaches my ears is my breathing from behind the thin glass that is covering my entire face, and the nature that I’m currently moving in. Deciding that I have seen enough for today and that Norm is most likely worrying about my well-being, I take a turn and walk to the path I have been walking all along and slowly but surely make my way back to the lab.
Just as I took a few steps, I heard a quiet huff and leaves moving behind a tree a few feet away from me.
Midway through me turning my head, a blue figure emerges from the bushes. There he stands. A tall male Na’vi. His stripes-covered skin glows underneath the small amount of light that is still falling on Pandora.
He is beautiful.
So beautiful the nature around me is no longer on my mind. All my focus and attention is now drawn to him as I see his fist tightening around a weapon that is firm in his right hand.
With quick movements, he is pointing an arrow at me.
“Wait- Wait- Wait-“ I start as his face wears an angry expression, his frown-covered face facing my direction. I can see his ears perk up at the words that left my mouth. The foreign language fills his head as he decides on killing or spearing me.
“fyape syaw fko ngar?” he hisses, flashing his fangs at me. His white teeth sparkle in the sun as he takes a big step closer to me. His sudden movement made me trip over, my backside making contact with the now slightly dried ground. Him now towering over me even more, his height is scary.
“I- I’m sorry I don’t understand you, please talk slower,” I say, trying to speak slowly, he probably doesn’t understand my words. He tilts his head in confusion, his eyes widening as he takes in my form. Here I am, halfway sitting up in the slightly muddy forest of Pandora. My eyes are fixated on the Na’vi that is towering above me.
“fyape. syaw. fko. ngar?” he repeats, now trying to talk as slow as I did. His pronunciation is now much clearer, his eyes squinting close as if he can see the wheels whirring behind my eyes. This situation throws me back multiple years, remembering the Na’vi lessons we were put through at the mere age of ten. He must have said something about me. Asking about my age? No that would not add up to the situation I’m currently in. Maybe he asked what my name is. That makes way more sense, him emerging from the forest, probably taking me in as a threat.
Slowly, I raise my hands on either side of my head a little, to show that I have no weapons on me, and don’t mean any harm to anyone. At my gesture his ears stand up, their previous position flattened against his head long gone. While doing so, his curiosity must have grown, he lowers his weapon, no meaning to harm me for now. The unknown Na’vi male lowers himself into a crouching position, as he fixates his bow on his back and secures the arrow back in its holder. With me still staying put on the ground, he starts to crawl over my much smaller form to take in my face.
His expression is still confused, but the curiosity must be getting a hold of him. He slowly makes his way above me, his face getting closer to mine, I can feel his warm breath hitting my cheek, his sparkly yellow eyes boring into my own. Pupils now grown bigger and bigger with each second that passes.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, my questioning tone must have shown him that I asked a question. He shakes his head in a way to tell me that he has no idea what I just said, but he doesn’t leave his current position, instead, he’s only inching closer to my body. His face slowly moved to the left side of my face, flattened nose touching my cheek and slowly moving down to my neck. His way of moving and actions remind me of an animal, I can feel him take a deep breath through his nose when it hits my pulse point. It’s like he’s taking in my scent, trying to burn it into his brain to never lose the smell of me.
His actions makes a shudder run down my spine, a shaky breath leaving my mouth only now realizing that I have been holding my lungs oxygen-free for the past minute, them now aching and burning for more.
He breathes me in again, this time with eyes closed, my scent filling his nostrils. My breathing stays unsteady, his presence making my heart quicken in my chest, he seems to notice that, his eyes now fixated on my chest, watching it rise and fall again. When my eyes caught his never leaving my chest, a frown forms on my face, my mouth gaping at him and my arms moving to cover my chest. Slightly uncomfortable under his stare that is on one of my most intimate parts.
He quickly shakes his head and uses one of his three-fingered hands -that is at least twice as big as mine- to move them away, his now gained free access to my chest making him move his head closer, the side of his face making contact with me, his ear hovering above my heart. My heartbeat echoes in his head, its beating pumping hot blood through my veins. Although he does not seem to have the intention to hurt me in any way, my heart doesn’t slow its fast beats. His heavy head makes contact with my chest, I can feel him resting his head completely.
He stays put for a few seconds, the sound of soft breaths leaving his nose hit my ears. My heart still hammers in my chest, continuing to reveal my unsure feelings about the moment and this stranger who is quite literally breaking the definition of personal space. He stirrers up removing his ear from my chest, now much softer yellow eyes meeting mine.
“Mawey.” he whispers. His soothing voice makes it seem like a sweet gesture, the way he talks, the way his eyes move from me to my chest, no, to my heart, its like he wants to tell me to relax. The next thing that catches his attention is the oxygen mask that covers my slightly blushing face. With one of his fingers he taps against the glass, the tap rather harsh as it shoots through the glass and right to my ears echoing softly.
"Neteyam." he speaks up, the pronunciation lingering in my mind. As he speaks, he points the finger that just tapped my mask to his chest, gesturing to himself, it seems to be his way of introducing himself to me.
"Y/N." I say telling him my name. His ears perk up as my voice hits him.
"Y/N…" he tries to pronounce my name just like I did, but fails miserably. I can´t help myself but let a giggle slip past my lips at his terrible attempt at pronouncing my name, squinting my eyes closed in the process. He doesn´t exactly laugh at my reaction, but what seems to be a small smile makes its way across Neteyams face. I like the way my name sounds when he speaks.
"Sevin." he whispers pointing at me again. His hand glides downwards to my own and he takes a look at it, his eyes fixated on my little finger. He slowly but surely wraps two of his fingers around it, completely engulfing my pinky with his. His hand is huge compared to mine. If he wanted to, he could cover my entire hand with his and nothing of my hand would be visible.
"Sevin?" I ask, questioning his last words, why did I barely pay attention when we were told simple words that are commonly used by Na´vi?
"Beautiful?" he now repeats, his accent thick as he tries to translate his words.
"You mean me?" I ask a little unsure, it is not unknown in the lab that Na´vi and humans don´t usually interact with one another, let alone find any interest in each other. He points his finger against my chest again, still trying to get me to understand that he thinks I´m pretty.
I can´t help but blush at his actions, not quite used to being complimented by someone.
"You´re beautiful too" I answer, already aware of the fact that he probably doesn´t understand what I just told him. So I point my finger at his chest just like he did to me and say
"Sevin."
His eyes fall to my pointer finger that is currently resting against his chest, his hands now following his eyes, a blue hand yet again engulfing my own. I feel a certain warmth spread through my chest.
Am I supposed to feel like this?
Probably not.
No, definitely not.
Then why does his presence feel so good? Why do I feel this special security with him? When his warm eyes meet mine?
His attention is now back on my face, the way he is now directly in front of me, allows me to take a closer look at his facial features. His yellow, big, cat-like eyes are pulsating with warmth and softness, his slightly flattened nose wrinkling when he senses new smell. He seems to be studying me just as I do him.
"kämunge tsal" he whispers, now again tapping against my oxygen mask.
Although I could not exactly translate his spoken words in my head, it must have been something about my mask. I shake my head hastily, if his intentions are about me taking it off he can forget it.
"Oe new ne kame" he urges me on, his eyes filled with curiosity and desperate pleading.
"Off," he says quickly his demanding tone fitting to his accent, his hand already finding the bottom of the mask and lifting it off of my face. His sudden actions make me gasp and quickly breathe in, to catch another wave of oxygen.
The mask is now all the way off, Neteyam places it on one of his muscular tights, but his vibrant eyes are darting across every moving muscle on my face. He studies me carefully as if he is afraid of breaking me with a grip that might be too firm for my body.
His left-hand moves to the right side of my head, the warm palm of his softly meeting me. His palm swallows half of my skull, it’s like a puzzle fitting, his piece connecting with mine. A few seconds later I have a sort of ticklish feeling against my upper thigh, his strong tail curling twice around it. The movement makes me blush, I feel my cheeks and half of my neck warming. It’s like Neteyam is trying to be as close as possible, though I can not really tell why.
His face inches closer to mine, he’s so close again that I can feel his breath on my lips, his eyes dare to look at them for a quick moment but just as he meets them he averts his gaze again. I can’t help it but copy his movement, my eyes darting down to his lips.
I can feel the atmosphere between us get turned upside down within one quick glance at his lips, a sort of tension building up.
What I’m doing here is insane.
I should be home by now.
Just as I can feel him getting even closer, the need for oxygen is growing and growing, my lungs aching for relief. My eyes shoot down to his leg hastily grabbing the mask that my body so desperately seeks. The moment it hits my face I take a deep breath, my heart beating at a quickening speed. Neteyam groans in response his hand falling from my head, instead both of his hands land on either side of my waist. As I try to steady my breathing, he pulls my smaller form into his lap.
"win säpi nefä" he lowly whines, making my eyebrows raise in confusion at his whining. He waits a few seconds for my chest to raise at a normal speed again, his eyes boring through mine as if he is asking for permission, although I can not quite tell for what.
"Enough" he orders now quite needy ripping the mask off my face, but before I can respond in annoyance, warm lips are pressed against my very own. My eyes widen at his sudden actions, I can`t hold back the quiet unexpected sigh that sounds like a soft moan leaving my lips.
Neteyam responds eagerly, his tongue now parting my lips ready to claim my mouth, the taste of me lingering on his tastebuds, he pulls me closer by my hips, the close proximity making him groan. The kiss quickly becomes feverish and passionate as his desire for more keeps growing. His hand moves to the back of my head keeping me in place to continue his almost assault on my lips. His rough palms skim down my waist to hook around my hips, pulling me flush against his chest.
It is something I have never felt before, the adrenaline coursing through my veins making my head dizzy. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen that was making me feel lightheaded.
I can´t help but try to pull away from him, his much stronger grip on me only tightening in response, in order to gain focus again I let my fingers tangle into his braids, softly tugging his lips away from mine. Neteyam growls in protest, chasing my lips with his but I lean back and reach down to put the mask that dangles down my body back on my face. As I keep filling my lungs with air, I look up through the thing glass with heavy-lidded eyes, my chest still heaving and my heart thrumming in my chest.
Neteyam pants softly, just as breathless as I am.
Behind Neteyam I can see his tail swaying with excitement from side to side, his own heavy eyes now focused on a part of my neck. He quickly connects his lips with my neck, softly coating it with open-mouth kisses. With his other hand, he gently tugs on my hair to expose my neck to his mouth. Not caring about the noises that could slip out of my mouth, I let a soft moan leave my lips at the feeling. That seems to urge him on further, his lips traveling from my neck, to my collarbone and lastly to my pulse point. It is the place he breathed me in earlier, he growls at the memory, lips quickly working at sucking on my delicate skin.
I close my eyes at the feeling of his soft but rough lips as they work against my sensitive skin, my mouth slightly agape at the pleasure that is shooting through every inch of my body.
"nìftxan 'ango" the Na´vi male moans against my neck, at the sound of a twig breaking somewhere in the distance, Neteyam quickly breaks away from my sensitive skin. His tail tightened around my thigh in a protective manner.
"Come" he hushes at me, now raising to his feet and full height, With one swift movement he claims my wrist in his hand sneaking around it in a soft grip. He pulls me up in no time as if I weigh nothing to him. I can feel myself hovering over the ground for a split second before he lets go of my wrist now fully placing me back on the ground I was laying on only minutes ago.
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bratzforchris · 2 months
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Comfort, M. Sturniolo
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*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚
Summary: Matt's been burning out. It's taken a toll on his body and his mind, but luckily, you're always there when he needs you most<3
Pairing: Matt x feminine reader
Warnings: Burnout, mentions of disordered eating and anxiety, panic attack, pet names (baby, pretty/sweet/handsome boy)
Word Count: 1.8k
A/N: This was a random little idea I had while I've been out of classes and work sick! Soft hurt/comfort Matt makes me so 💗 Expect a lot of writing this week while I'm on spring break and enjoy this lil story<3
*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚
Being a content creator was an extremely stressful job, and you knew that. You had to constantly be worried about numbers, engagement, and what looks would or would not get you media attention, good or bad. Although it may not be the same as a regular nine-to-five job, it was still incredibly taxing, and that weight was wearing down on your boyfriend roughly and quickly. 
Matt had been teetering on the edge of burnout for a while now, but just chose to ignore it, figuring if he didn’t acknowledge it, it would stay at bay. He knew you could tell; in fact, he knew everyone could tell, but that didn’t stop him from working day and night, constantly editing, pitching ideas to his brothers, and planning new videos. He refused to let you or Nick and Chris help him, not-so-logically thinking he had to ‘pull his weight’. In Matt’s head, Chris was the funny one, Nick was the editor and the smart one, and you had your own job at a local boutique downtown. You all didn’t have time to hear his issues, he thought. 
“Matt? You in here, love?” You knocked on the door to his office, worriedly gnawing on your lip. 
You hadn’t seen your boyfriend since you arrived home from work two hours ago, but you knew he was here because his car was in the driveway. At first, you had left him to his work, figuring he would come out when he was done with his tasks, but now, it was nearing dinnertime, and even the smell of food cooking on the stove wasn’t luring him out. You waited a few beats, not hearing an answer, until you decided to take matters into your own hands. You would never intrude on Matt’s personal space, but truth be told, you missed your boyfriend loads, and you were also slightly worried. 
Matt was hunched over his computer, fingers flying furiously over the keyboard as he typed out an email. He didn’t even look up from the screen until you tapped him on the shoulder, to which you only received a turn of the head and a tired, watery smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 
“Dinner’s ready, baby,” You whispered softly, massaging his shoulders. “I missed you today.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” he sighed, rubbing his temples and then turning back to the computer. “I have some stuff to do.”
“Matt, you’ve been in your office since I got home, darling. That was over two hours ago,” You protested gently. “You gotta be hungry, bubba.”
The awful anxiety started to creep into Matt’s mind at your questioning, not because of anything you were doing, but because he knew you were worrying about him, and he didn’t want that. “I ate earlier.” he lied, wincing at how easily the untruth rolled off his tongue. 
“There weren’t any dishes in the sink or the dishwasher and there weren’t any takeout containers. You didn’t eat, love.” You said firmly, but not unkindly. 
You had been noticing for a few weeks now that Matt was eating less and less, abandoning breakfast and usually after dinner dessert in favor of working in his office. You figured the issue would resolve itself after the influencers got out of their ‘busy season’, but here it was, two weeks later and Matt was getting worse, not better. You knew your boyfriend struggled with anxiety even before YouTube, but that wasn’t going to make you brush the issue off. 
“It doesn’t have to be a whole meal, but you need to eat something.” You continued as you massaged his neck and shoulders, him still facing the screen.
Your boyfriend didn’t say anything, and you almost thought he was ignoring you, until he turned to you, blue eyes full of unshed tears. “I can’t,” Matt cried, beginning to choke on held back sobs. “I have so much to do.” 
“Bubba, you can take a break. It’s okay,” You kissed his forehead. “No one is going to be mad at you.”
“But what if I’m not doing enough? What if Nick and Chris think I’m just letting them do all the work? What if…” Matt was cut off by his own shallow breathing, hands moving to fist his feathery brown hair. 
“Matt,” You interjected firmly. “You are panicking. You need to breathe. Copy me.”
Over your year of being with Matt, you had found that a firmer voice with no pet names usually got his attention better than an overly lovey-dovey voice when he was panicking. Matt finally looked at you, his hyperventilating slowing down as he copied your breathing. In for four, out for four. 
“Good boy.” You smiled, gently praising him as he relaxed against his office chair. 
Matt didn’t even argue when you closed out his computer. He just sat back against his chair, massaging his temples. You gently took his hand, leading him to the living room and guiding him to the couch. You knew he needed to eat, but right now, getting him calm and relaxed was the first priority. You sat down on the couch, allowing Matt to lay his head in your lap. You two didn’t speak for quite a while, allowing him to fully calm down first. Finally, you spoke, running a hand across his body and through his hair comfortingly. 
“Do ya wanna talk about it, handsome boy?” You asked kindly.
“I’m just stressed,” Matt sniffled. “I have a lot to do and Nick is already stressed so I tried to help him with editing, and,” he paused to catch his breath as tears rolled down his face. “And some people have been making mean comments about me lately.” he cried.
“Oh honey,” You said sympathetically, kissing his forehead. “I’m so sorry, pretty boy.”
“They say I’m not as entertaining as Nick and Chris cause I’m quiet.” he sobbed softly. 
“Baby, that is the furthest thing from the truth,” You told Matt, kissing his forehead. “You are sweet, kind, and funny. Anyone who says otherwise is a miserable internet troll who takes their problems out on people they don’t even know.”
“Mhm,” Matt sniffled and nodded, curling further into you. All was silent for a while as you cuddled until your boyfriend’s stomach growled. “My belly hurts.” he whimpered. 
You pouted, running your hand over his stomach comfortingly. “It’s probably because you’re hungry and stressed, honey. Those two things don’t mix well. Do you feel like eating some dinner?”
“No.” Matt said flatly, avoiding your eyes. 
“You have to eat, baby. You don’t even have to get up from the couch and it doesn’t have to be a heavy meal, but you have to eat.”
“Fine.” he mumbled, desperately trying not to cry again. 
“I love you, handsome.” You slid out from under him, softly covering him up with a blanket, before kissing his forehead with a little ‘Be right back’. 
You padded into the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar and an apple. You also refilled Matt’s water bottle that had been abandoned on the island with fresh water. Before you went back to the couch, though, you snuck into your shared room and grabbed Matt’s stuffed pug, Mr. Wrinkleton, off the bed. Based on your own anxiety experiences, you knew having a comfort object usually helped, and your boy needed all the help you could offer. 
By the time you made it back to the couch, Matt’s tears had slowed, but he was still visibly sniffling, blankly staring off into space while pulling the blanket closer to his chin. It broke your heart to see him like this, but for now, you were going to focus on comfort; you two could tackle solutions to the problem later. 
“Look who I brought,” You whisper squealed, handing Matt his stuffed animal. “He missed you.”
Your boyfriend smiled softly, clutching the plush animal to his chest. Mr. Wrinkleton had been Matt’s biggest comfort (besides you) for as long as he could remember, and that didn’t change now that he was an adult. He shifted so that you could once again sit down on the couch, before laying his head back in your lap. 
“I brought you some food, too.” You placed the snacks in Matt’s hand, planting a kiss on his forehead. 
Matt didn’t speak much as he chewed thoughtfully on the granola bar and apple. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you; he was just so exhausted that talking seemed like an extra task. Once he had finished, he placed his trash on the coffee table and then turned over so that his face was smushed against your body. You laid in silence for a while until you softly spoke, running a hand through his hair. 
“How are you feeling?” You asked softly. 
Matt shrugged, snuggling further into the blanket. “My stomach still hurts a little. I’m just really stressed.” he said sadly. 
“I have an idea if you’re up for it.” You smiled. 
“And that idea would be?” 
“Come on, I’ll show you,” You gently took Matt’s hand, making sure he had his blanket and stuffed animal and then led him to your shared bedroom. “Lay down on your back.” You instructed. 
Once Matt had gotten himself into a comfortable position, you straddled yourself across his legs and pulled his shirt off, admiring what you saw for a moment. Your boyfriend was gorgeous and toned with tanned skin and a beautiful sleeve of tattoos that you loved to admire. You stole a pump of lotion from the bottle off your nightstand and began to massage his skin, taking extra care to rub his belly gently and massage the knots in your shoulders. 
“God, Matt. Your shoulders are so tense, honey.” You hummed when your hands met a particular knot in his left shoulder. 
In response, your boyfriend let out a soft moan, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the soft pillows of your bed. It sounded sexual, especially since you were straddling him, but Matt didn’t give a damn. The only thing he could focus on right now was the soft glide of your hands against his skin, melting all his worries away. 
Once you had finished your massage, you cuddled up next to him, pulling the covers over both of you. “Did that help a little?” You asked. 
Matt nodded appreciatively, burying his nose in your neck while holding his stuffed animal to his chest. “Mhm.” he mumbled happily. 
“I’m glad, sweet boy,” You whispered, kissing the spot behind his ear. “You know you can always come talk to me when you’re feeling stressed, right baby? I won’t judge you, nor will I ever be too busy for you.”
“I know,” Matt blushed. “I’m going to work on asking for help instead of trying to handle everything alone…” he whispered softly. 
“I’m so proud of you,” You hummed, giving him the soft praise he so heavily deserved. “You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for, you know that?”
“I am pretty great.” the giggle and smile you had been waiting to hear all evening finally crept into Matt’s voice. 
Even when his anxiety and worries got the best of him, he would never lose his ‘Mattitude’, and that was just one reason on a very, very long list that you loved this boy with your whole heart.  
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tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @oobleoob @idek3000hi @melguilbert
note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here<3
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reiding-writing · 3 months
Note
hiii, i hope you're well! i saw that you are taking requests for spencer and i really like your angst fics so i was wondering if you could write one with unrequited love?
preferably bau!reader who has feelings for him but he doesn't and she watches him get with someone else and everybody knows how she feels about him but he is oblivious, ending is up to you but i love me a sad ending heheh 😸
transgression [ s.r ]
You’re in love with Spencer Reid. He’s in love with somebody else.
WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE MAEVE ARC, LOTS of misunderstanding, Spencer is kind of a bad friend, lots of arguing, major character death
spencer reid x gn!reader || ANGST || 8.2k || masterlist!!
a/n: sorry for the delay, but i did warn you it was gonna be long so- also i listened to ceilings on repeat whilst writing this so take that as you will 🫶
did i bend the maeve arc to my will for this fic? yes. yes i did.
taglist (slashed blogs couldn’t be tagged): @babyspiderling @marsxoxo2 @vytvyvy @hpstuff244444 @frostooo @ohmysw33 @radioactiveinvisible @devilsadvcte @the-local-pendeja @kakashis-formal-simp @robinswrld
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You suppose you did it to yourself.
Spencer’s migraines had gotten increasingly worse over the last few months, and after a few consecutive days of hounding him, he’d finally decided to go and see a medical professional about it.
You’d expected him to come back with news about how his brain stem was too active from how hard he was working himself, or that he’d managed to raise his blood pressure to an unhealthy high from all the stress he was under.
Instead he’d told you that they couldn’t find anything physically wrong with him and that he’d been referred to a geneticist to check if the cause of his sudden mind-numbing aching was due to an underlying condition that might have been passed down from his mother.
He’d come back and forth to you for weeks about his phone calls with the doctor.
How she was helping him with his sleep deprivation.
How she was helping to manage his diet.
How she loved classic literature.
How she and him had spent four consecutive hours on the phone debating over the logistics of a novel they both enjoyed.
You could see the change happening before your eyes, and you weren’t the only one either.
“Pretty boy’s chipper this morning,” Morgan joins you at the kitchenette, his eyes following Spencer as he takes a seat at his desk with all of the enthusiasm of a golden retriever puppy who’d been let off his leash for the first time.
You hum with a nod, focusing your attention on the two cups of coffee you were making, heaping tablespoons of sugar into Spencer’s Doctor Who mug to satisfy his insatiable need for sweetness. “They’re reading a book together,”
“Really?” You respond to Morgan’s raised eyebrow with a short nod and another hum.
“Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton, apparently she finds the religious analysis ‘fascinating’,” You can’t help the small contemptment that seeps into your tone as you reiterate what Spencer had told you to Morgan, and you can practically feel his pitiful gaze as he watches you make your coffee.
“I’ve heard of that book before from somewhere,”
“I tried to get him to read it a few months ago,” You take a sip of your coffee at the end of your sentence, barely able to taste it over the scolding water but not finding the mind to care.
You leave your conversation with Morgan at that, taking the two mugs in your hands and walking back into the bullpen, placing Spencer’s mug in front of him and walking around the cluster of desks to reach your own.
He’s sure he doesn’t need to verbalise it, but Morgan feels increasingly sorry for your situation, noting how you skirt past Spencer’s “thank you” without a response as you bury your head in your files.
he can’t imagine how much the fact that Spencer had seemingly formed a crush on his geneticist ripped you apart.
And the worst part? He’d never met her in person.
All scientific laws of attraction be damned, Spencer Reid had fallen in love with someone he’d never met in the span of three months, and you we’re resigning yourself to sit on the sidelines and watch as the man you had been in love with for six years find the happiness that you longed for with somebody else.
How you managed to keep up your facade you didn’t know.
You’d offered him change for the pay phone he’d call her from when he was running short. You’d let him rant to you about her opinions on a novel that you had failed to get him to read. You made excuses for him to leave the office early so that he could spend his time on the phone with her.
You were the one that sent him to the hospital and caused him to meet her in the first place.
He never hesitated to remind you of that fact, thanking you vicariously every time he relayed his conversations with the doctor back to you.
As the weeks progressed he stopped calling her that. She wasn’t ‘the doctor’ anymore. She was Maeve.
He didn’t call you by your first name and you’d known him for ten times longer that he’d known her. He didn’t even call Morgan by his first name and those two were practically brothers.
And that part was probably what hurt the most.
Maeve.
A name of Irish origin meaning ‘intoxicating’. How fitting.
Apparently the Irish goddess of love and desire was named Maeve. You could see the glimmer in Spencer’s eye that told you his Maeve was just as important as the mythological goddess he was describing.
His Maeve.
“So why haven’t you two actually gone on a date or anything?” You take a sip from the mug in your hands, swivelling your chair back and forth with your foot as a pivot. “You’ve been talking for what, four months now? Surely it’s about time you actually met her in person,”
“It’s complicated,” Spencer sighs as he collects the loose papers he was working on in a pile. He didn’t want to divulge Maeve’s issues without her permission.
“You’ve been saying that for the last six weeks Spencer,” You roll your eyes as you discard your half-empty mug on the table. “If I didn’t know any better i’d say you’re putting it off,”
Spencer shook his head adamantly at your suggestion. You couldn’t have been more wrong. He did want to meet her. Desperately. He’d wanted to meet her since the end of their first phone call. But he also wanted to keep her safe.
How do you meet up with somebody who’s hiding from a stalker without endangering them?
“I do want to meet her. It’s just- she’s dealing with something personal and it’s put a rift our plans, that’s all,”
“So it’s her not wanting to meet up with you then?” You raise an eyebrow at him over your desks.
“Look it’s- You don’t get it okay? It was a mutual understanding from both of us.” You can hear Spencer’s tone become more defensive as you spoke, and you raised both of your hands in surrender.
“Okay, i’m sorry for prying-” You ended your apology with a laugh, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted despite feeling your heart deflate in your chest at the way the friendliness his his eyes fizzled out the longer you looked at him.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Spencer’s late to work this morning.
It’s 8:06 when he finally walks through the glass doors, the coffee you made him stone cold after sitting lamely on his desk for the better part of twenty minutes. He doesn’t so much as offer an apology as he picks up the mug and makes his way over to the kitchenette to pour the coffee down the sink.
You follow behind him in a mix of intrigue and a want to refill your own mug, swilling it out with some water as you watch Spencer load a coffee pod into the machine. “Phone call last longer than you expected?”
“Hm? Oh- yeah, we were discussing the literary analysis of Annabelle Lee,” Spencer’s demeanour seems to brighten immediately once he’s given an opportunity to discuss the details of his phone call with Maeve, although the beginning of his ramble is quickly cut off by the beeping of the coffee machine.
You wait patiently for his coffee to finish before you begin making yours, raising an eyebrow as Spencer pulls out a regular teaspoon instead of the usual tablespoon he’d incorrectly use to load his coffee with sugar.
Your intrigue only heightened when he pulled a carton of milk from the mini-fridge. Not even normal milk. Soy milk.
“Since when do you drink coffee like a normal person?”
His eyes flickered from his mug to your face as he tipped a single teaspoon of sugar into his drink before replacing the bag back where it came from. “It’s a part of my managed diet, Maeve thinks that my increased sugar intake might be one of the risk factors for my headaches,”
“Did she tell you to put soy milk in it too?” You don’t know why you have the urge to be petty, Spencer had long since needed to change his coffee drinking habits for the sake of decreasing his sugar intake and Maeve’s suggestions were beneficial for his health.
It was just the fact that it was her that ticked you off.
“She did actually, it provides the same amount of riboflavin as cow’s milk, which acts as a soothing agent whilst also helping constrict inflamed blood vessels, but without all of the excess fats in regular milk that might make my migraines more frequent, it’s genius really,”
He thought that her ideas were genius. Him. Mr ‘I have three PhDs and an IQ of 187’, thought someone else’s ideas were genius.
You’re sure that he already knew the benefits of milk alternatives, and yet he attributed the ‘revelation’ of what they could do to Maeve. Of course he did.
“When was the last time you made a decision for yourself?” The question comes out much harsher than you intend it to, and you can tell by the way Spencer furrows his eyebrows that he’s taken offence to it.
“Sorry, that came out wrong,” No it didn’t. “I’m just a little surprised that someone as independent as you is so… willing to follow blind instructions,” Your attempt at saving yourself half-works, that wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears and you can see that the glimmer in his eyes is returning slowly.
“She’s a doctor, of course i’m going to follow her suggestions,”
You give him a soft nod as you pick up your mug from under the coffee machine. “Yeah, no, that makes sense, it’s just a little surprising is all,”
You don’t give him a chance to respond to you before you’re walking away from the kitchenette to retake a seat at your desk, fearing you might say something out of pocket if you continue the conversation any longer.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
You were really pissed off now.
You’d arrived back in Quantico three days ago, and you were still piled up to your neck in paperwork.
Maybe you would’ve had it finished by now if Spencer would stop talking about the fact that he was “-finally going to meet Maeve in person,”.
You had half the mind to snap and tell him to just shut up, although by the saving grace of Morgan you thankfully didn’t have to.
“Reid, give their poor ears a break man,” Your thankful for Morgan in times like this. He knew you were knee-deep in your feelings for Spencer, and he knew that every time Spencer so much as spoke Maeve’s name it carved another hairline fracture in your heart.
You were close to shattering, and Morgan could tell.
“Oh- right, sorry,” Spencer offered you an awkward smile which you mirrored back at him.
“It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” You shake your head in a polite dismissal of his apology before turning your head back down towards your files.
“I take it you’re nervous then?” Alex’s voice cut through the beginning of an awkward tension between the two of you as she entered to bullpen with a cup of coffee in hand.
“Well- I mean- you know…” Upon being unable to find a sufficient response, Spencer resorts to shrugging into his chair. “I just don’t want to ruin anything,”
“But aren’t you curious what she looks like?” Alex raises an eyebrow with concern like Spencer was he son going on his first ever date.
“it doesn’t matter what she looks like I mean- she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me it’s just-”
You don’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation.
You sudden upheaval from your desk stops Spencer’s sentence as his eyes follow you across the bullpen and out of the glass doors, followed shortly by Morgan as he jogs after you.
“Hey- Wait up a minute-” Morgan catches your arm before you have a chance to get in the elevator, and as you turn your eyes towards him he can see the beginnings of tears forming in your eyes.
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this..”
Morgan can do nothing more than pull your head into his shoulder and wrap his arms tightly around your back with a soft mutter of your name. “I know kid, I know…”
“He thinks she’s the most beautiful girl in the world,” You turn your head up from Morgan’s shoulder to meet his eyes, a single stray tear cascading down your cheek, illuminated under the florescent lights. “How am I supposed to compete with that..?”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Incidentally, Spencer’s date with Maeve didn’t end up happening. Conflicting work schedules or something, you weren’t really listening.
Maybe all of your subconscious thoughts had leaked into reality and finally gave you momentary release from the crushing defeat of having Spencer go on a date with someone else.
Maybe it was them punishing you further by forcing you to sit through him rant about the book she’d left him at the front of the restaurant.
It didn’t help that you already had a headache that made it feel like your eye sockets were being kicked by an annoying kid sat behind you on an aeroplane, leaving a dull ache in it’s wake and making you just want to bury yourself in a hole and hibernate.
“And right at the back she wrote ’Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another’ it’s a quote from-”
“Thomas Merton. Yeah, I know.” You dig the knuckle of your left thumb into cavity of your eye socket over your closed eyelid, hoping to relieve some of the tension that’s lingering there and disrupting your thoughts.
“Thomas Merton’s ‘Love and Living’ specifically,” If Spencer noticed your discomfort he didn’t acknowledge it. “It’s a collection of his essays on the importance of love to live, so for her to have written it specifically knowing that I would read it means-”
“Reid.”
Your tone stops him from continuing any further, and he blinks at you with that sweet puppy-dog expression that would usually have you weak at the knees.
“No offence, but I don’t care about your over-the-phone girlfriend or the quote that she wrote in your book.” Your tone carried a harshness to it that Spencer wasn’t used to hearing from you. It was cold and detached and not like you at all.
“Are- you okay?”
“No, Reid, I’m not, and if you’d bothered to ask about my life every once in a while instead of using me like a human diary maybe you would’ve realised that already.”
You practically slam your file closed as you speak, pushing your chair out from your desk and leaving him sat in shock at your sudden change in attitude.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After a bit of introspection, Spencer did realise that he hadn’t been treating you very fairly. He hadn’t asked you how your life had been in 3 months and 26 days. Four of those days he’d spent in damn near radio silence. He wasn’t sure he could take it much longer.
He missed you.
It was a bit ironic considering you sat directly opposite him for almost eight hours a day five days a week, but after you’d snapped at him last week, he truly realised just how much of his day he spent socialising with you, and just how much he missed talking to you.
So he decided that he was going to apologise.
And what better form of an apology for being dismissive of your feelings than putting a personal effort into something for you.
He walked into the office that morning with a leather bound copy of The Parasite by Arthur Conan Doyle stored cautiously in his messenger bag, pages scrawled with annotations from Spencer’s own reading of the novel that he hoped would be insightful to you as you read it yourself.
He’d remembered you saying how much you wanted to read the novel a few months ago, so he figured giving it to you as a personalised apology would show that he really did care about you and had listened to what you’d told him.
“Are you busy?” Spencer asks, though he already knows the answer to the question.
He’d been watching you from the other side of the room all morning, hoping for a moment or two of eye contact to see if there was a possibility of a conversation. A look from one to the other; even a smile would’ve been enough to make him feel validated and content. And he would have been willing to settle for that.
But you never looked up. Not even once.
"Mhm," You continue to not spare Spencer so much as glance as he speaks, turning over the page of the file you were working through.
“Can I take a minute of your time?” He tried to catch your gaze again, only to be met by your continued focus on your work. The last thing he wanted to do was disrupt your work routine, but he also knew that he needed to talk to you sooner rather than later.
“Please,” he said softly. “It’s important.”
You exhale heavily through your nose, exasperation written clearly in your expression as you leave your pen as a page marker to close the manilla folder on your desk. You turn your head upwards, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands to agitatedly indicate for him to continue.
You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt being so openly cold towards Spencer, but you’d reached a breaking point, and you couldn’t bare sitting idly on the sidelines and letting him tear your heart to pieces anymore.
Spencer was relieved that you’d granted him your attention, but the look you directed towards him was enough to make him wince. You weren’t looking at him through a lens of indifference but rather cold, hard disappointment.
He took a deep breath, trying to gather the right words for what he had to say.
“I’m sorry,”
He seemed almost breathless as he spoke, like he’d just finished a tangent about something without taking the time to breathe. “I know that I’ve been spending too much time talking about Maeve and not enough paying attention to you.”
"You don’t say," You mutter the words under your breath to yourself, but your sure that Spencer heard you based on the way his eyebrows knit and the small gleam of hope in his eyes dwindles to barely a flicker.
He was trying not to react to your snide comment. Spencer knew that your tone didn’t leave any room to deny your meaning. He’d been selfish in talking exclusively about his relationship and hadn’t realised how it was affecting you.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer repeated. “You mean so much to me and I haven’t been showing that.”
"Thank you," Your thanks are polite but dismissive, like you were acknowledging his apology but choosing to not actually consider it as one, and it left Spencer with an expression of clear frustration.
He was used to being able to read your facial expressions and emotions in the past, but now you were just an unreadable wall of disappointment. He had hoped the apology would've been enough, but it was clear that you weren’t going to let him off that easily.
Time to pull out the last resort.
He bent over and fumbled with his bag for a few moments before pulling out the novel he’d brought with him face up.
“I uh… got you this,” He holds out the book towards you. “You said you wanted to read it right? So I uh.. annotated it for you to make it more enjoyable,”
You take the novel from him with a raised eyebrow as your eyes scan the cover, a clear flicker of confusion in your expression.
Spencer noticed your expression and furrowed his own brow in confusion. You didn't seem to recognise the book. In fact, the look on your face made him wonder whether you even knew this book existed at all before this moment.
“I hope you… like it,” he said nervously. “I was going off what you'd talked about before. You mentioned the book was a classic?”
"I… have never seen this book in my life,”
“B-But…” Spencer knew this was going to be awkward at some point, but he'd hoped not this early into the conversation. He could feel his cheeks burning from embarrassment, and it was only getting worse as he searched your face for an answer to this awkward situation.
“I… swear I heard you mention it once.”
You give him a short shake of your head and a pursed smile of awkward thanks as you put the book down on your desk.
Spencer looked away, embarrassed beyond belief. He hadn't even been able to deliver an apology properly, let alone make you feel special like he'd originally intended to.
How had he gotten it wrong? He had an eidetic memory for god’s sake.
When you put the book down on your desk, his eyes flicked back to the book. He'd spent almost 4 hours annotating and researching it and now it felt like all that effort had been wasted.
If you hadn’t mentioned it then who had? Someone must’ve. Someone he obviously equated with you to the point where he’d somehow managed to override his eidetic memory to mix the two of you up.
It takes him a few moments before you hear him whisper out a name under his breath, the palm of his hand dragging down the front of his face at the realisation.
"Maeve…"
The mention of her name had your eyes flickering away from the leather cover and right back to Spencer’s face, awkwardness completely rid of your features and replaced with a mix of negativity that Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to dig into.
"Are you serious?" Your words come out less questioningly and more accusatory, and you hold the book up so that he can see it once more, the gold embossing on the cover glinting under the overhead light as if to only taunt Spencer further for his mistake.
“You apologise for continuously disregarding me for your girlfriend by giving me a book that she showed interest in?”
You could see Spencer's face fall as your words sink in.
He hadn't even taken the time to think over what he was apologising with. It was almost as if his brain automatically just reverted back to his girlfriend's interests as an escape from dealing with his own guilt and sadness.
"Damn it," he whispered to himself. And in that moment he realised he'd just committed the biggest crime someone could make when trying to apologise.
“Like you constantly flaunting your relationship in my face verbally wasn’t bad enough.”
"I'm sorry I-" he says again, voice teeming with sincerity and guilt.
"You are truly and utterly unbelievable Spencer Reid." Your words didn’t carry anger as much as they did disappointment, and he could see the astoundment in your eyes as you pushed your chair backwards to stand, dropping the book straight in the trash bin by your desk before walking off.
It’s where it belongs; Right alongside the small sliver of respect you still had for him.
Spencer could've said so much more: he could've admitted how ashamed he felt for his careless actions and he could've apologised again and again a million times if it meant you'd stick around and give him a chance to make it up to you.
But you had already made it clear that you weren't in the right state of mind to discuss this matter further.
The best thing he could do now was give you space as he watched you walk away, a deep pain in his heart that slowly ate him alive from the inside.
He’d well and truly fucked up.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You were bordering tears by the time you reached Garcia’s office, unintentionally interrupting her lunch break with Alex in the process, though the two seemed to care less about the interruption and more about the fact that you liked like you were about to cry your eyes out.
You take in a sharp breath through your nose as you try to tape together the cracks in your composure, although with every one you seal three more seem to appear in it’s place.
“I-” You can barely get the first word out before the tears start rolling down your face, and Alex immediately stands from her seat to guide you to sit in her place.
“Hey, you’re alright, slowly,” Alex’s hands find your shoulders and rub reassuring circles against your shirt. The slow breath you take in doesn’t stop the flood of tears that’s blurring your vision, and you only manage to get out a single word, but it’s all the two need to understand what’s got you so overwhelmed.
“Spencer-”
“I swear I am two seconds away from smacking that boy over the back of the head,” You can hear the clear frustration in Garcia’s tone. “Surely he’s got to realise how much he’s hurting you by now,”
“He does… I lashed out at him and then left to come here…” You rub your eyes with the back of your hand alongside a small sniffle, trying to rid your vision of it’s blurriness from your tears.
“Good, the boy deserves to have some sense knocked into him,” You appreciate Garcia taking your side, but you can’t help that small lingering feeling of guilt that invades the back of your mind.
“He’s just in love, it’s not his fault…” The words almost physically pain you to say. The verbal acceptance that Spencer Reid was indeed in love with somebody. Somebody who wasn’t you.
“That doesn’t mean that he should be disregarding you though sweetheart,” Alex’s tone is soft and almost maternal, and your sure that it doesn’t help how emotional you are.
Garcia’s right hand reaches forward to straighten out the collar of your shirt, unintentionally crumpled as you try to wipe your face of your emotions. “You’re his friend, and you have been his friend for longer than he’s known this girl he’s talking to, it’s not fair for him to completely push you to the side,”
Garcia was right. It’s not fair. Nothing about how Spencer had been treating you since he’d started speaking to Maeve had been fair. And you were done making excuses for the boy just because you knees deep in your feelings for him.
You didn’t deserve to feel guilty. You didn’t deserve to feel bad for lashing out at Spencer for apologising for not showing interest in your life by further proving just how little he’d actually payed attention to you. You didn’t deserve to cry because he was the most stupid genius to ever live and couldn’t see that you were hopelessly in love with him. You didn’t deserve to suffer by his hand.
It wasn’t fair.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Maeve’s been kidnapped.”
You have to consciously suppress the small voice in the back of your head that celebrates the possibility that she might not be a part of Spencer’s life for much longer. It’s a horrible thought. You should never wish ill upon anyone, no matter how much you internally despised them.
Still, that part of you that was still petty, that was still infuriated with Spencer and Maeve, wanted you to tell Spencer straight to his face that you weren’t going to help him find her and that it was karma for how he’d treated you.
But you weren’t a bad person.
As much as you might hate her, she was still important to Spencer.
“I have a wealth of knowledge i should be applying to this case, but- i can’t focus on anything for more than four seconds at a time… which makes me the dumbest person in the room-” Spencer’s eyes are full of desperation as they scan across your teammates.
“So please help me… Please help me find her…” The desperation in his voice is heartbreaking, the remnants of tears staining his face as he explains the context of the situation through broken sentences.
“We don’t have an official case, so we’ll be working on personal time,” Hotch’s voice is much quieter than you’re used to. Softer, more considerate. “Does anybody want to leave?”
You can feel his eyes linger on you as he asks the question, and you subconsciously purse your mouth into a tight line to stop yourself from impulsively pulling out of the investigation.
You might be detrimentally frustrated with him, but you did want to help. Even if it ultimately resulted in your downfall.
Hotch gave you a short nod before turning to the rest of the team. “Good, let’s get to work,”
It didn’t take Garcia very long to track Maeve down, mostly attributed to her unique name and specialised job.
Dr. Maeve Donovan, a professor at Mendel University who took a sabbatical leave 10 months ago.
The group split into different groups once they’d found her, JJ and Morgan heading off to a loft her parents owned, Alex and Rossi heading to the lab she used to work at, and you and Hotch, accompanied by Spencer, going to speak to Maeve’s parents.
“Reid,” Garcia’s tone is soft as she looks over her laptop screen towards him as he begins to stand from the conference table. “I have a picture of her, do you want to know what she looks like?”
“No,”
Spencer’s answer is immediate, joined by a shake of his head.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
You and Spencer watched from behind the one way mirror as the interview progressed.
They’d last spoken to Maeve five days ago. Her mother had cancer. She was also a geneticist. They were suspicious of her ex fiancé Bobby.
Her fiancé?
You can see Spencer’s face drop at the words despite the low lighting in the room, and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows yourself.
She had a fiancé?
Spencer practically storms out of the office after the questioning is over, and Hotch has to remind him to calm down as they reach the apartment of Robert Putnam with Morgan and Rossi in tow.
When the door opens the five of you aren’t greeted by Robert, but rather a girl, a girl who looked very confused.
You invite yourselves inside at the girl’s recognition that Robert was inside the apartment.
“And who are you?”
“I’m Diane, his girlfriend,” She raised an eyebrow as the five of you looked around, confusion cut short as Robert rounds the corner questioning the sudden voices coming from his living room.
“Hey babe what’s-“
“Robert Putnam, FBI we’d like to-” Spencer’s voice cuts him off harshly as he rushes to speak, although he stops his sentence halfway as a flicker of recognition falls across his features and his anger turns to dread.
“Hey, I know you,” Robert doesn’t have the time to say anything else to Spencer before Hotch forces him out of the room, shutting the door behind him to speak to Spencer privately whilst you Morgan and Rossi remained inside.
Hotch returned a few minutes later. Spencer didn’t.
You end up taking Hotch’s place as you push yourself out of the apartment with a small “excuse me,” to follow after Spencer as he walks out of the apartment building.
“Spencer- wait up a minute-”
He doesn’t stop at your call, and you’re practically running down the stairs by the time you get to him, already out of the front doors of the apartment building.
“Hey-” You take a second to catch your breath before turning your eyes back towards him again. “Are you alright?”
You could see the flicker of confusion in his eyes as he met your gaze.
The last time you spoke to him you threw away any remnant of your friendship with him in the bin alongside the book he’d given you, and now here you were, chasing after him to make sure that he was okay.
“Why did you agree to help?”
Your face falls from concern to surprise at his question, and he takes it as a sign to continue.
“I know that you don’t like her, so why are you here?” You could see the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes, clearly overwhelmed with how the investigation was going.
“She’s important to you Spencer. Like her or not I care about you. So therefore I care about her,” You don’t think as you speak, words spilling out of your mouth with no conscious filter.
“I’m sorry.” Spencer’s apology elicits a sigh from your mouth, and you shake your head softly at him.
“Forget it, let’s focus on getting Maeve home safe alright?” He obliges to your request with a purse of his lips and a small nod, turning his eyes towards the ground.
“What’re you thinking about?” His eyes fall on yours once more at your question, round with confusion and glistening with the starts of tears. “I can see it in your face, you’re calculating something in your head,”
He exhales through his mouth in a small laugh. You’d always been able to figure him out, and not just because you were a profiler.
“2,412 hours,” His tone is uncertain, mixed between gratefulness for you observance and something far more upsetting. “That’s how long Maeve and I have contacted each other counting letters and phone calls…”
“That’s what-” You take a second to do the calculation in your head. “100 days?”
“100.5…” He runs his hand backwards through his hair, pressing his eyes closed like he’s afraid tears will spill from them if he doesn’t. “What if that’s all I get?”
“It won’t be Spencer…”
“You don’t know that-“
“Yes Spencer, I do,” You have to consciously suppress the sigh that threatens to leave your mouth, pushing your lingering distaste for Maeve down with it. “She is going to be fine, I promise,”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Turns out Maeve’s ex fiancé wasn’t the stalker. In fact, he was being stalked himself, and whilst JJ and Garcia were looking over the images posted to Robert whilst him and Maeve were still together they discovered something that changed the entire direction of the investigation.
Maeve’s face had scribbled out in eyeliner.
You and the team spent the next thirty minutes rebuilding the profile from the bottom up.
“Celebrity stalkers are usually non violent,”
“You want to tell that to John Lennon Rossi?” Spencer looked up from his lap towards the group at the table, having separated himself from the group to sit on a sofa lining one of the walls so he couldn’t bias the profile.
It wasn’t going too well.
“What was it that Mark David Chapman said after he shot him?” Spencer stood from his seat, anger flaring in his nostrils. “‘It was like all of my nobody-ness and all of his somebody-ness collided’,”
You could hear the rise in his tone as he worked himself up the more he spoke.
“Spencer-“
“Maeve is somebody. And this- bitch is a nobody.”
“Spencer.”
Spencer caught your gaze, and immediately fizzling out of his eyes and replaced with guilt. “I’m sorry- I can’t be very helpful right now I should leave-“
“Yes you can Reid, you have 100.5 days of communication with this girl and a recall everything verbatim,” Morgan’s gaze is entirely concerned with Spencer’s outburst.
“There’s too much of it, and I can’t sort through any of it clearly-“ Spencer is clearly on the edge of breaking, and you can tell he’s not going to be able to keep his composure for much longer.
“Then pick one of us and we’ll go through it with you,” Hotch leaned his elbows against the table, his voice again portraying that soft, parental tone that said he knew how overwhelmed Spencer was getting.
Spencer didn’t even say anything, his eyes just silently flickered over to you and you knew you couldn’t refuse him.
You return his silence as you get up from your seat and pat your hand on his shoulder for the two of you to exit the room together.
Time to torture yourself for the sake of Spencer’s wellbeing.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Diane Turner, a research assistant working for her PhD in the same lab as Maeve. A student who had her thesis rejected because it contained a heavy sample bias that included both of her parents.
It took a while, but Garcia eventually managed to track down a loft that was owned under Diane’s parents’ names, less than 10 minutes away from Maeve’s apartment.
“Take your gun and vest off,” Diane’s voice is harsh through the receiver attached to the front of the building, and Spencer’s eyes flickered up from the silk blindfold in his hands to the metal box.
He doesn’t question the orders as he immediately begins stripping the vest from his torso, dropping it and his gun on the floor.
“Now come in alone.”
“Spencer.” You call out to him as he reaches for the door handle, and he gives you that look that makes your stomach do flips in your torso. Except this time it’s not that pleasant fluttery feeling, but instead an existential dread at the fact that he might not walk out of the building alive.
“I’ll be okay,” He gives you a nod of reassurance as he pushes the door open, and you find yourself clenching your hands around your gun to stop yourself from following after him.
The six of you wait outside for what feels like hours, and you lean back and forth on the balls of your feet as you become increasingly restless with the situation.
Then, a gunshot.
And a second.
And your heart drops in your chest.
You’re not entirely present as you rush into the building with the team following behind you, gun raised at your eyes.
Spencer had to be okay. He had to. He was going to be fine. You were going to walk into that room and he was going to be perfectly fine.
You hoped Maeve was alright too. As much as she was unintentionally causing you literal hell, you knew that she meant everything to Spencer.
You knew that he’d choose her over anything. He’d choose her over you.
And right now you don’t care. You just want him to be okay.
You force the door open to the loft with your foot, gun pointed straight ahead at the first person you see.
“Stay back-“ Spencer practically shouts from where he’s half lying on the floor, right hand clutching tightly at his left bicep, trails of blood cascading down his fingers and onto the floor.
“Stay back stay back don’t shoot-“
You let out an audible sigh at the fact that Spencer wasn’t critically harmed, although upon a whimper of his name from further across the room you turn your eyes up to the noise.
And you finally meet the girl that’s caused you ten months of hell. Held at gunpoint.
That small voice in the back of your head tells you that this might be your chance to finally rid her from your life, to let her succumb to whatever Diane had planned and leave Spencer to you.
But you take one look at the desperation in her eyes and any loathing that remained in your mind immediately fizzled out.
It wasn’t her fault. Of course it wasn’t. She was just a girl that happened to be in love.
“Diane,” Spencer pushes himself to stand, and you can see the pain in his face as he does. “There’s still a way out of this,”
“You never wanted me. Never!” Diane pushes the gun she’s holding hard against Maeve’s neck, and you can see her eyes squeeze closed as she attempts to keep herself from crying. “You lied!”
“I didn’t.”
Spencer shakes his head adamantly, and you glance over at Hotch as you spread across the back of the room, guns raised in Diane’s direction. “Diane, I offered you a deal, and you can still take it,”
“Me for her. Let me take her place,”
You only have a view of the back of Spencer’s head now, but you can tell by the tone of his voice that his expression is a pure display of desperation, one that you’re happy you can’t see because you’d lose your composure in an instant.
“You would do that?” Diane’s question is angry and accusatory, tears rolling down her face as she presses the gun against Maeve’s neck once more.
Spencer nods with no threat in his tone. “Yes,”
“You would kill yourself for her?”
“Yes.”
You practically feel your heart stop.
“Thomas Merton,” Maeve’s voice is almost exactly as you imagined it to be. Soft, smooth and, as Spencer had called it all those months ago, ‘dipped in honey’.
“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane’s tone contrasts Maeve’s tenfold, pitchy, uneven and overrun with manic anger.
“He knows,” You can see Maeve’s eyes flicker, and you assume that they meet Spencer’s as his shoulders drop. “He knows.”
“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane shakes Maeve in her grasp as if to intensify the urgence of her question, and you tighten your grip on your gun in instinctual response. “Who is he?”
“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve’s voice is confident and defiant despite the clear tears in her eyes.
Thomas Merton could’ve been something between Spencer and you.
“No.”
You can see a clear change in Diane’s expression at Maeve’s words, and she lowers the gun from Maeve’s head only to hold it up against her own, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes.
“Wait-”
Spencer barely has time to shout the word before the gun fires, and you flinch at the sound as you watch Maeve and Diane both drop to the floor, dark red blood pooling around the two.
You can feel the tension in the room as everyone computes what just happened, guns lowering slowly as their eyes lock onto the two women on the floor.
You’re not focused on that. You’re focused on the tightness of Spencer’s shoulders as he takes sharp breaths in and out of his nose.
The way he seems to forget about the bullet wound in his arm as his legs give out underneath him.
The way a sob that leaves his mouth despite the fact that he tries to muffle it with his hand.
The way that Spencer broke.
He's crying. Big, heaving, heart-wrenching sobs.
His shoulders are trembling.
His hands are shaking.
His head is hanging downwards so that his hair is covering his face.
You approach him slowly, kneeling down at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
His eyes slowly shift from Maeve, his sobs only seeming to amplify as he meets your gaze. His eyes are red and closely with tears, his cheeks running hot and his lips trembling.
You don’t speak, knowing that you’ll break if you do. Instead, you guide his head into your shoulder and let him crumble in your arms, grieving the loss of the love of his life.
You’re sure you’re going to cry yourself to sleep when you get home, but right now, you needed to be strong. For him.
“I’m so sorry-“ Spencer speaks through broken sobs as you hold him, the rest of the team moving to secure the scene.
“Shh,” You shake your head against his softly, rubbing the palm of your hand up and down his back as you let him cry until he physically couldn’t anymore.
“I treated you so horribly-“ He pulls away from your shoulder to look into your eyes once more. “I’m so sorry- Please don’t leave me…”
You purse your lips into a line, your expression full of so many emotions Spencer can’t distinguish any of them.
“I’m not going anywhere,” You pull his head back into your shoulder, leaning your head against his. “I promise…”
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reiderwriter · 3 months
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hii! could you write smut where spence and reader are bestfriends and one day shes in his car and he snaps and is like “I LOVE YOU” and like they have sex in the car (like with sub spence) and can you include spence getting bj THANKYOUUU
A/N: Car love confessions always remind me of the electric love tiktok "I kissed my best friend" trend that I was OBSESSED with two years ago, and my GOD was this a full-circle moment for me.
Warnings: sub!Spencer, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism, oral sex (m recieving), slight cum play, car sex (bj only), like this was slightly self-indulgent and I had to post it right after I finished writing...
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The air outside was cold, but the car had been running for an hour now as you listened to Spencer Reid talk about his day. Whether your cheeks were flushed from the heat coming from the fans or from his subtle attentions, you couldn't discern. 
Spencer, your best friend of nine years, who had been around the country saving lives and facing the most horrendous criminals in the world, was currently sat in the passenger seat of your car excitedly mumbling about Star Trek. 
“I can't believe you decided to watch it, and you did it without me,” he smiled at you, his body angled to face you just ever so slightly. 
He'd started by filling you in on the case he'd just returned from, then moved onto books he'd read recently (a conversation you could absolutely contribute to, being a college librarian yourself, and the source of many of his books). 
And then he'd asked you about your day, and you'd spilled about watching a few episodes of classic Star Trek, and all of his joy and knowledge had bubbled up to his lips without even a thought of pushing it down at all. 
“I've been hounding you for several years, and you decide on a whim to watch it today?” He'd meant for the question to come out with an annoyed tone, but he couldn't hold back the smile passing over his lips as you laughed at him. 
“Spencer, it's a TV show. We can watch it again together. In fact, why don't we do just that? Drive to mine, and we can sit through as many episodes of Star Trek as your heart desires.” 
“I wanted to see your initial reactions, though. I wanted to tell you all the behind the scenes knowledge only true trekkies know about.” 
You laughed loudly at this, especially as you saw the pout on his lips as he mumbled the word “trekkies.” 
“Hey, stop laughing,” he said, but his chest was heaving with a chuckle of his own. And for the life of you, you couldn't. He was sitting there pouting because he wanted to see how much you'd enjoy his favorite TV show, and by god, did he look adorable. 
“I'm sorry, Spence, I-” you tried to cover your mouth, but found your hands were both needed to hold your stomach instead as the laughs that wracked your body veered on painful. 
“Y/N, really!” He said, fully grinning now, pout abandoned. But you didn't stop.
Nothing in the air changed or paused at that second, as his head swooped closer to you, but your body instantly reacted to his closeness. 
It was as if all the hairs on your body stood on end as he tipped up your chin and quickly stole away all the oxygen in your body. 
Before your mind could react, your hands were already tangled in his hair, making sure he couldn't pull away. But you felt him smiling into the kiss, and you knew he wouldn't ever want to pull away now that you'd accepted him. 
With empty lungs, you finally had to separate, and to your surprise, a giggle still flittered from your lips. This time, you did clap a hand over your lips, though. 
“You're laughing still? I just kissed you to shut you up, and you're still laughing.” He said, tucking the few strands of hair behind your ear but still refusing to move too far away. 
“You should've seen your face. You were pouting and adorable and-” 
“I love you.” 
Your heart, that had previously been beating remarkably fast after his kiss (and likely from the fit of laughter preceding it), stopped at his words. 
You'd heard people describing butterflies in their stomach before, but this was more intense. It was more like your heart was a pinball that had just been launched back into the machine and was bouncing around in your ribcage hitting objects and trying desperately not to detach from your chest and jump into his arms. 
“I love you, Y/N.” He smiled, and it was sweet and simple, and even if you were not simple people and life had never been particularly sweet to you, you allowed your happiness to soar as you leaned back in and pressed your lips against his. 
Maybe it was the nine years of waiting (though had you been asked, you'd have been totally oblivious to your quite obvious feelings for the man). Maybe it was again the heat in the car. Maybe it was perhaps the two weeks in which you'd not seen him that led you to venture a step further than you usually would. 
But within seconds of tangling your tongue with his in his mouth, sending him reciprocated confessions with each passing breath, you somehow found the energy to pull yourself up and onto his lap. 
“Y/N, we're in a car-” his protests were weak as you suckled your way down his neck. 
“It's dark outside, and I love you.” His hands gripped possessively on your hips as you continued to shower him in affection. 
“What if someone sees us?” He whimpered as you loosened his tie, discarding it so you could pop his buttons open and trail more kisses across his beautiful collarbone. 
“Then I hope they understand enough to walk away and leave us alone to love each other.” 
You'd managed to get all of his buttons undone and sat squirming in his lap as your fingers brushed across his pert nipples. His head was thrown back to allow you access to the part of his neck that, when you'd run your tongue along it, had him gripping your ass and rubbing your core along the now obvious tent in his pants. 
“Y/N, please….” He panted, and you again returned your lips to his face, brushing over his eyes, his nose, his jaw, and his lips. You were blind and discovering your whole new world through your lips, mapping his features inch by inch. 
His whimpers grew louder, more urgent. He was almost becoming whiny, and that pout from earlier shadowed across his face again, so delightful that you'd immediately wanted to kiss it away from him. 
Dry humping in the passenger seat wasn't going to be enough  you decided, and reluctantly drew away from him quickly. 
“Y/N, what-” He weakly gripped the material of your pants, his quiet protests from earlier forgotten as he begged for your touch to return. 
“Trust me, I love you,” you winked at him again, marvelling in his flush, the hand he wiped across his face to hide his quiet joy. 
You shimmied yourself down so your face was hovering just above his cock, straining through his pants. You slowly undid the buttons and let his cock spring up, wrapping a firm hand around it when it was fully released. 
His hand came down to cover yours, even as the other covered his flushed cheeks and eyes in embarrassment. 
“Spencer, let me see your face. I want you to look at me, please, Spencer.” You cooed at him as you quietly removed your hand from under his, instead moving it to his so you could control his movements. 
You let your breaths hit his cock as you controlled his hand, helping him to slowly jerk off as he gave into the pleasures you were so desperate to gift him. 
“Spencer, please, for me. Show me your fucked out face, I want to see it so bad.” 
With each slow stroke, his body seemed to grow heavier with lust until the hand on his face eventually fell, and you could lock eyes with him once again. 
You smiled brightly at him and, without missing a beat, took him into your mouth. 
The angle was awkward, but you only needed to see that shock and just in his eyes briefly, so you manoeuvred your head into a better position and began fresh. 
You held his hand, holding his cock, and sunk your lips down as far as they'd go, before lifting slowly off. You did it again, and heard the hiss from his lips as he enjoyed the pressure. 
You sped up slightly and felt his discarded hand land on your hair. It wasn't domineering or controlling, but more comforting, as he tugged your hair behind your ear, eventually bundling it up into a gentle pony tail to keep it out of the way of your task. 
“Y/N, I love you so much,” he whimpered and moaned, and you squeezed his hand in response, intensifying the pressure on his cock while also responding to his confession. 
You were going to show him just how deeply you loved him by giving him as much pleasure as you could muster. 
“Pull off, Y/N, please, I'm going to-” He bit his lip, biting off the sentence, almost as if he were afraid of speaking the vulgar words into existence. You could feel his muscles going taut underneath your hands, though, knowing exactly how close he was to losing all control and giving into passion. 
And you certainly weren't pulling away. 
Instead, you pushed your head down once again, going further than you'd managed thus far, nose tickled by his pubic hairs as he shot his load down your throat. 
You gagged, of course you gagged, and he let out a guttural moan, sensitivity apparent in each of his twitches and ragged breaths. 
You made sure to keep as much of him inside your mouth and rose off his cock, looking up at him again through eyes half-lidded with lust. You made sure he was watching as you smiled and swallowed a mouthful of his cum, making sure to lick your lips after and watching his throat bob as he processed the entire scenario. 
You again climbed into his lap, but this time, you just pressed your head to his bare chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, and listened to the thrum of his heart. 
“I love you, Y/N,” he said again. You hummed a response and waited for him to say it  again and again. Hopefully, for the rest of your lives. 
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