#mind you this was all at the end of the day yesterday. i think around when the managers knock off and two hours before rostering

[unseededtoast]

Shadow of Obsession | Spencer Reid x Reader

Part Six

Series summary: In which you find that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral out of control.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

*Content warning: description of sexual activity*

My hands should be on her smooth, soft skin. My lips should be on hers. Not his. Never his.

The miniscule camera remains where it was found, seemingly taunting you with every red blink. You and Spencer had both agreed that leaving it there was the best course of action. Taking it down or purposely covering it would tip off the stalker that they had found it. And who knows what kind of reaction that would invoke.

The two of you knew that it had recently been placed there, as Spencer would have noticed it earlier from one of the several nights he stayed over. After the discovery of the camera, a sense of dread filled your chest. You worry about what the stalker might have seen through the lens. If the stalker saw you on top of Spencer, then it's likely that something else is going to happen soon. That's just the nature of these cases, you had seen it time and time again.

And since then, neither you nor Spencer, had brought up the incidents from yesterday. The kiss shared in your bed, the passion on the living room couch. You know it had been real for you, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind wonders if he was just trying to keep you calm in the midst of this situation.

You remembered one case in particular, a while back in California, with a similar scenario. Spencer was placed on security detail for a woman and he ended up kissing her. He told the team it was to keep her from becoming overwhelmed with the situation, that she likely would have spiraled into a state of panic. He further elaborated that he gave her something to stay distracted. And you wonder if yesterday was all just some elaborate distraction.

Your heart sinks, saddened to think how you're supposed to move on from here if it was all just a ruse. There's no denying it, you've had a crush on Spencer since your early days at the BAU. You had tried to suppress it for as long as you could because you didn't want to ruing your professionalism or the team dynamic. But yesterday you were no longer able to withhold from your urges.

And now that you've had a taste of him, you never want to let him go. You want to be able to feel his hands on your body, feel his lips on your neck. You want him all to yourself, selfishly and shamelessly. Being the center of his attention like that was like a drug, one that you seem to have gotten hooked on the first time around.

The thought of him putting his hands on someone else like he did you makes you hot with anger and jealousy. You don't want his hands on anyone else, and you certainly can't stand the thought of him kissing someone else either. No, you want Spencer Reid all to yourself.

And you know if that is to ever happen, you have to find and stop the man who has turned your life upside down for the last week.

Now, you and Spencer sit at the dining room table, staring right at the manila folder that was slid underneath your door.

"Here's the timeline I put together, I am almost certain that it's correct." Spencer keeps his voice low as he speaks to you, spreading out the news articles and photos. You nod, showing him you understand and watch as the timeline gets pieced together.

Once it's all laid out, you take your time analyzing it. You recognize that the photos don't seem to be that old. In fact, you remember wearing a few of the outfits. You don't understand how you didn't realize all of this before, it seems clear as day.

"How didn't I see this?" You quietly ask, mostly to yourself. Spencer shifts in his seat, leaning forward to talk to you easier.

"It's probably just because you were in a state of shock." He explains, but it doesn't make it easier for you to accept.

"I should've been able to recognize this sooner. I mean, what the hell I'm a profiler and I couldn't even see the building blocks of my own case." You try to keep your voice quiet, but your anger and frustration bubble up. Spencer reaches over and puts a hand atop of yours, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"Don't do that to yourself." He keeps his voice low and meets your eyes. They're soft and understanding, it doesn't seem like he's blaming you one bit for missing things. You sigh and look back down to the photos.

"You're going in to talk to the team today right?" You eventually ask, hoping that you'd be allowed to tag along.

"In about an hour, but you're still under lockdown. I can have one of the other agents stay with you here if you want?" Spencer offers and you're quick to turn it down. You don't want anyone other than him inside your apartment with you.

"That's okay. Just, come back here afterwards?" You ask, knowing it sounds desperate, but you don't care. He brings you comfort and you feel safe when he's here with you. Not that you doubt your own abilities, you just like having the reassurance.

"Of course." Spencer promises and the two of you fall back into a comfortable silence.

When it's time for him to leave, you close the door behind him and look over to where the camera was discovered. You really wonder how long it had been there. Standing just out of its reach, you stare right at it. It's very small, blends right into the television stand. If it weren't for the light you'd never know it was there at all.

You tilt your head and think about who you know has been inside your apartment. Of course, there was Spencer and yourself. But other than that, nobody had really been in here, that you know of. That is, except for agent Valentine.

-----

Spencer quickly makes his way to the BAU, his heart pounding from reading Hotch's message. Apparently, Hotch had not sent Valentine over to your apartment, nobody had sent Valentine anywhere. Spencer knew something was weird about him showing up, he just felt it.

Of course, he also has to remind himself that nothing has been proven. Yet. But, he has a feeling that they're going to find some concrete evidence very soon. Spencer had taken the manila folder with him, ready to hit the ground running.

As soon as he enters through the glass doors, he sees that everyone is waiting for him in the briefing room. He wastes no time, he goes in immediately. All eyes are on him, some more apologetic than others, some confused. But he pays them no mind, all he can think about is your safety and tracking down the man who has made your life hell, the man who turned your team against you.

With the reminder that half the team didn't even believe this was legitimate, he has to keep his anger in check if he wants their help. But deep down Spencer knows he would be able to handle this without their help, there's nothing he wouldn't do to protect you.

"Did you bring everything?" Hotch asks, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, it's all here." Spencer says and spreads out the evidence he's committed to memory.

"Can you brief the team on the situation?" Hotch then asks as everyone begins looking over everything. After a deep breath, he explains the situation and how it unfolded step by step.

By the end of his explanation, he can see the remorse on the team's faces. Their eyes are trained on the photos and it's Derek who decides to speak up first.

"Listen, I'm sorry-"

"You don't have to apologize to me, she's the one you have to beg forgiveness from. What if something had happened to her because none of us believed her? How many of these cases have we seen end badly because nobody believed the victim? She's not even some stranger, she's been part of this team for years. I still cannot comprehend how any of you doubted her. So if you want to apologize, I would start with her." Spencer cuts Derek off abruptly. Derek's mouth is left open, but he takes Spencer's intrusion in stride. He nods,

"I understand." Derek leaves it at that, and everyone else seems to take note, keeping their thoughts to themselves.

Spencer excuses himself from the room to keep himself from saying anything further. They know that they've entirely messed up, and it would only hurt the case to keep harping on it. He goes to the breakroom and makes some coffee, hoping that some sense of normalcy will help him get through the day. Truthfully, he wants to go running back to your apartment, but he knows he needs to be here.

As he sips on the hot coffee, his eyes travel to your empty desk. Wilted flowers sit on your desk, but the bright white paper attached to them catches his attention. He abandons his coffee and goes to your desk. The notes from the flowers find their way into Spencer's hands and he reads them over again, despite the fact he's had them memorized since the first time he read them.

But this time, two things catch his attention. On one of the notes, the words "brilliant mind" are used and in the other, the words "story not yet complete" are scrawled on the paper. Spencer's mind flashes back to yesterday, where Valentine stood in your apartment and used very similar words. In fact, he quoted verbatim the "brilliant mind" part.

By the time the dots connect in Spencer's mind, his phone rings in his pocket. He sees your name on the screen and doesn't hesitate to answer.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" He asks, heart thumping in his chest as he realizes he knows exactly who the stalker is. He had strong suspicions, but this was the final nail in the coffin, the last shred of evidence he needed to confirm it all.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I just- I think I know who it is." You say, sounding breathless. Spencer's shoulders relax as he hears you're fine but his adrenaline spikes when you announce that you've also figured it out.

"Who?" He asks, hoping that you two have come to the same conclusion.

"It's Valentine." You say. Spencer looks back to the team in the briefing room and knows exactly what to do next.

"Listen to me. We're going to arrange the security detail to bring you here. We need to explain all of this to the team, and then we are going to find Valentine." Spencer says, walking towards the briefing room as you two exchange rushed goodbyes.

-----

Spencer tries his best to not stare at the clock while waiting for you to arrive. His foot taps anxiously against the floor, his eyes dart towards the elevator every few seconds. He's calculated the time it should take for you to get here and he's already decided that if you're even two minutes late that he will go out and find you himself. Sure, it may be a little dramatic and overkill but he is not prepared to spare any effort for you, not when Valentine is still out there somewhere.

The others wait in the briefing room as Spencer told them you were on your way. Right before he walked out of the room he noticed their shared glances full of tension. Secretly, Spencer couldn't wait to watch them beg for your forgiveness. His blood still boils if he thinks about it for too long. And though he knows a lot of things, he doesn't think he'll ever understand how the team could've turned on you so easily.

As he paces around the bullpen, he hears the elevator ding and the doors slide open. He rushes to greet you, relieved to see that you're accompanied by two agents he recognizes from the security detail. Spencer thanks the agents and leads you away from them with his hand on the small of your back. He looks over you quickly, making sure that you're okay.

"How did you figure it out?" He asks once he's satisfied that you're not in any distress. Or, no more than you've been experiencing for the last week.

"I was looking at the camera we found and remembered that Valentine was standing right over there when he came over. And then I started thinking. How did he get my address? Why did he say he was aware of the situation beyond the encryption? And his behavior reeked of desperation." You explain and Spencer nods. He glances back towards the briefing room and decides he wants to speak to you privately a little longer before the two of you head in.

"I knew there was something off about his behavior. And I knew that we would've noticed the camera sooner if it had been there a while." Spencer confirms your thoughts about Valentine's behavior. You nod your head and continue on your train of thought before you lose it.

"And I figured he got my address when he was working on my computer two months ago. Remember, after the article was published about the case where women were being killed for affairs, that Valentine had to come and install an encryption software onto my computer because the one I had was outdated?" You ask and Spencer nods,

"Yeah, yeah I remember he was asking about the pictures on your desk and about that case because the article was next to the computer. You showed him the article and said that it wasn't entirely true, but that you didn't care because the team wins together." Spencer's face lights up as more connections are being made.

"Right. And if he was working on the computer it's hard to say what else he installed on there. And then the photos from the folder? Those were taken roughly two months ago. Spencer, it all makes sense." You say, slightly breathless, almost in disbelief that you've finally figured it out, and that all the scattered pieces of the puzzle are finally coming together to form one cohesive picture.

"Come on, we should tell the others." Spencer says, resting his hand on the small of your back as the two of you walk into the briefing room.

He feels you tense as you walk in, and chooses to stand right beside you as you explain everything to the rest of the team, who gives you their full attention. Spencer's eyes watch each one of them as he tries to look for even the most minuscule indicator that someone doesn't believe you now. But much to his relief, he can't find anything of the sort in anyone. By now he's aware of everyone's behavior and is able to clock them all pretty easily. He can only find guilt and interest written on their faces.

-----

By the time you've explained everything to the team, you're met with several silent stares, each one exuding a different emotion. From a quick sweep you can pick out sadness, anger,and guilt.

But there's one person not here that you wish had made an appearance. After all your years here, you'd never known Penelope to miss something like this. But she's nowhere to be found. Perhaps that's because she still doesn't believe you. And with that crushing thought, you let yourself step closer to Spencer, who reaches for you but ultimately decides to give you a soft smile.

You know he was reaching to you to provide you comfort, but the team doesn't know what happened between the two of you and neither you nor Spencer seem to want to bring that to attention now. Maybe once the dust settles and the two of you figure out exactly what you're doing, but not now. Now you'll just have to settle for being comforted by his soft, puppy-dog eyes.

Breaking the silence, Hotch steps forward with a pointed look on his face.

"She is no longer safe to be in her apartment and she isn't safe here, not with Valentine working here. Temporary arrangements need to be made immediately. As for the rest of you, look into our systems for any other trace of interference. And once we get all of our evidence documented and Penelope determines if she can crack the code, that's when we go after Valentine." His words are concise and spoken with authority.

Everybody at the table nods and leaves the briefing room, leaving you, Spencer, and Hotch alone. Nerves prickle the tips of your fingers as you wait for Hotch's further orders.

"Is there anywhere you could go until we get Valentine?" Hotch's voice has noticeably softened and you're thankful. While you know Hotch has your back, his authority and confidence can sometimes be overwhelming.

"No, sir." You answer after considering the question.

You didn't have family in the area, there's no boyfriend you can crash with, and you know staying in a hotel with the security detail would draw unwanted attention. The crease between Hotch's eyebrows deepens, but before he can speak another word, Spencer clears his throat and takes a step forward.

"She can stay at my place." He offers and your heart swells.

While it's no strange occurrence for Spencer to stay at your apartment, you had never stayed at his before. You had always respected his aversion to shared spaces and germ transference but after yesterday's actions, this shouldn't have surprised you as much as it does. You quickly regain your composure and judge Hotch's reaction. His eyebrow is raised and he glances between you and Spencer critically.

"I'll inform the security detail of the location change." Hotch states and then turns to leave the room. The tightness in your chest is relieved as he walks out of the room. Your attention is then focused on Spencer, who's already looking at you.

"Are you sure?" You ask him, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. The corners of his moth tuck up into a smile and he nods.

"I'm positive. I would feel much better with you at my place." He affirms and you're unable to keep the grin off your face or the redness from staining your cheeks.

"Thank you, really. I'll go pack some things up and then I'll be over once you're done here for the day." You say and go to leave, but are stopped by Spencer's hand around yours.

"No, I'll go with you. I don't want you going back there alone. Especially now that we're on his trail. He could devolve and destabilize at any moment." Spencer says, keeping your hand within his. He pleads with his eyes for you to agree, and you know you're going to give in; after all you've never really been able to deny Spencer anything.

"Okay." Is all you say before the two of you walk out of the briefing room together.

----- Agent Valentine POV

The video on my screen plays over again and again and again. And each time I watch it, it doesn't become easier to accept. My knuckles turn white from how harshly I grip my computer mouse, replaying the video that's surely ingrained into my memory at this point.

As I see the dark footage of Spencer Reid on the couch with her, putting his hands all over her body, receiving her affections, my breathing becomes heavy and erratic.

My eyes are drawn to the way his fingers seem to map out every curve of her body and how his lips are able to taste the sweetness of her skin. It should be me. My hands should be on her smooth, soft skin. My lips should be on hers. Not his. Never his.

My printer sounds off as it prints a few copies of the image on my screen and I'm quick to add it to the others I have. I reserve one copy and hold it in front of my face before placing it on my desk and cutting out Spencer's face. I cannot even bear the sight of him anymore, my blood boils with unexplainable rage the more I think about him.

From the night at the bar I knew he was going to be a problem for me. That's why I tried to drive a wedge between them, but for some reason he didn't fall for it like the others. Not that my plan was bad, all I did was give her the credit she's rightfully due; it was her own teammates who didn't believe her. Perhaps that should show her how much they value her on the team.

I should've been the one to swoop in and save the day and then she would've had no choice but to see me. She would've seen everything I have to offer her. My eyes glance at my phone, hoping that she would call and ask me to install those cameras inside her apartment. After all, they would keep her safe. I would be here to make sure nobody got in, that she got home after work. My foot taps on the ground as I stare at my blank phone screen.

With a sigh, I look over to a framed photo of her I keep on my desk, and her smile calms me immensely. Soon this whole headache will be over with and we will finally be able to live the life we deserve together. I can almost picture it.

I can see the two of us on the front porch of our home, hand in hand, as we watch the sunset and count the fireflies. I can see us sharing breakfast across the table from each other, the sunlight illuminating her as if she had come straight down from heaven. I can see the fulfilling life I know we'll have. And that reminder is all I need to keep moving forward. All of this will be worth it in the end, when I can finally have her.

I click through her social medias to see if she's updated anything only to find that she hasn't. But I still go through the photos and am in awe of her beauty, just like I'm seeing her for the first time all over again. And once I'm done with her socials I check her work credentials to view her recent activity. It seems she hasn't logged on in a few days.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I ponder when I should come in and magically crack the encryption code to save the day. By then, I will have had enough time to delete any tracks I may have left and plant new ones, ones that would reflect Spencer was the one who meddled with FBI systems. And then she would see me as her savior, she would have no other choice but to finally see me and be done with Spencer for good.

It's then that I start deleting my trail and working on fabricating false information. But for some reason as I try to place the falsified records, my computer begins running slow. Frustrated, my fists ball up and I try to get it running faster. But no matter what I do, it's still stalling.

That is, until my failsafe alerts me that someone is already in the same system. My blood runs cold as I realize someone has actually cracked the encryption code and is seeing everything I've done and am currently doing.

With a racing heart I try to determine my best course of action. And unfortunately, I think they've forced my hand to do something drastic. 

-----

With a bag slung over your shoulder, you watch as Spencer opens his front door for you. The warm green walls invite you in and you realize it's been a while since you've been over here. But not much has changed. For a few moments you take it all in, seeing that he has a new bookshelf that he's already managed to fill and that he's rearranged his furniture slightly.

"It's so peaceful here." You say softly, placing your bag on the ground while you walk around. Spencer places his keys on the counter and watches you walk around his apartment.

"If you want, I can take the couch so you can get some rest." Your head swivels to look at him, eyebrows drawn tightly together. Does this mean he regrets what you two shared? Was everything just a distraction after all?

"Oh, um, you don't have to do that. This is your home, I can take the couch." You reply after a few minutes of jumbled thought. Your heart sinks as the words tumble out of your mouth.

You should've known better than to believe it was real.

Turning away from him, you walk to the window and look down at the street below. People are walking without a care in the world, and you wonder what life would be like if you hadn't taken this job. Maybe none of this would've happened if you just took another path.

Behind you, you hear Spencer grab your bag off the floor and you twist around to watch as he takes the bag into his bedroom. But you try not to put too much thought into it, he probably just doesn't want it laying in the floor.

Moments later, he comes to stand next to you, his hands shoved in his pockets. You don't know what to say, and apparently neither does he. There are a few questions burning on the tip of your tongue but you can't find it within you to ask. Not right now.

Instead you keep your eyes focused on the ground before you, wondering how much longer you're going to have to live here like this. During the quiet moments, which are few and far between, you're reminded of how much your life has been interrupted in just a few days.

You're no longer safe in your apartment, you and Spencer had actually kissed each other, your team turned their back on you, and one of the smartest people in the FBI is your stalker. At this point you're convinced you have the worst luck in the world.

"Are you hungry for dinner?" Spencer eventually breaks the silence, his voice raspy from the day.

Turning away from the window, you see how tired he is and you remember that he really hasn't slept much in two days. And now you're here in his home, disrupting his routine.

"I can take care of it. Please, let me. You're letting me stay here and you haven't had much sleep. It's really the least I can do." You answer and make your way to his kitchen.

He follows behind you and leans forward on the counter, watching you take inventory of his pantry. For as often as the team travels he keeps his pantry fairly well stocked, especially for a man.

"How do you feel about chicken parm?" You ask, closing the refrigerator door. Spencer's already looking at you, a small smile on his face.

"I think that sounds fantastic." He answers and sits on one of the stools. You nod and turn back around to collect everything you need.

While you prepare dinner, Spencer observes quietly. His hair is disheveled from the day and you notice some stubble adorning his jawline. A part of you hopes he keeps it and grows it out, there's just something about it that makes him look irresistible; more so than usual. He reaches up and loosens the tie around his neck and you try your best to sneak glances of him while you work. But eventually he's the only thing you can think about.

"Why don't you get changed into something more comfortable? It'll be done in a few minutes." You propose, hoping that he goes away for a few minutes so you can concentrate on not burning the sauce.

With a lazy nod, he slinks away to his bedroom and you let out a sigh. You wish you had the courage to ask him if the kisses were real. But you're afraid that if you ask, and he says no, that your only chance with him will wither and die. But if you don't ask, then you can convince yourself there's a chance.

After a few moments he returns in some simple sweatpants and a plain shirt. But somehow he makes it look like luxury loungewear. Instead of taking his spot at the counter, he walks behind the counter and looks over your shoulder. His hands rest on each of your shoulders and he rests his head atop of yours. In an instant, your heart thumps heavily in your chest, so much that you're sure he can feel it too.

"It smells amazing." His voice is quiet and deep, his lips are right by your ear which causes a shiver to run down your spine.

"Spencer." You say, not sure of exactly what you want to say, or ask, as your mind is becoming fuzzy and overwhelmed by his close proximity. His hands run down your shoulders, down your arms, before they rest on your hips.

Perhaps the kisses were real after all. Or maybe this is all just another distraction. Which means if this is a distraction then something else must've happened and he doesn't want you to find out about it yet so you aren't more scared.

You turn the heat off on the stove before you turn around in his arms. Your eyes meet his and you see how his eyes look over your face as if he's memorizing every small detail. Which he very well could be.

"Hmm?" He hums, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

"Spencer, what are we doing here?" You finally gain the courage to ask him.

He blinks a few times as if he's processing the question. For once, you're not sure if he has an answer at ready. Had you really just caused Spencer to really think about a question?

Eventually though, his grip becomes just slightly tighter on your hips and he licks his lips. With hopeful eyes, you look into his as he finally answers. You just hope he isn't about to break your heart.

"I think this entire situation made me realize how much I care about you. Can I be completely honest here?" He asks and you nod your head, wanting nothing more than the unfiltered truth from him.

"Of course." You affirm and he takes in a deep breath.

"When you realized someone had been stalking you, it made me come to understand that I hate the idea of someone laying claim to you like that. I hate the thought of someone looking at you with impure intentions, I hate the thought of someone invading your privacy, I hate the idea of someone else putting their hands on you. And if I am being honest here, I haven't had such violent thoughts since I was in prison. And, truthfully, I know I would do whatever it takes to make sure that you're safe; there would be nothing too extreme."

His words make your heart skip a beat and you find no traces of a lie in his eyes or written anywhere on his face. Instead, all you see is driven resolve. And you know he meant every single word.

"Spencer -"

"I'm sorry if that was too much, I know the way I said it was intense. But I mean it. You've found a way to infiltrate my every thought in the best way possible. I wake up and wonder if you slept okay and if you're alright and I go to bed wondering if you feel safe. And in the moments in between, I think about what I could be doing to make sure you feel safe, about what I can do to protect you from Valentine." He cuts you off and rambles on a bit more, and you take in every word.

If Spencer were anyone else his words may raise some concern, but because he's Spencer, your Spencer, you're just relieved. You're relieved because you know now that it was all real. And after he's done speaking, you lick your lips and fight the smile that wants to plaster itself on your face.

"Spencer, you're the only one that believed me about this from the get go. You're the one who made sure I've been safe. And, if I'm also being completely truthful here, you've found a way to occupy my every thought too." You say, trying not to let your voice waver at the end. Because Spencer is so close, it's hard to concentrate on exactly what you want to tell him. And as he hears your words, he smiles.

"And if I'm being even more truthful, all I've been able to think about is how your hands felt on my body, and how I never want anyone else to feel your touch." You go one step further to prove your point. He's so close to you now, that your noses almost touch. There's a growing heated tension between the two of you, and you know that it's going to give at some point.

"And I never want anyone to feel your lips on their skin, I never want someone else to hear the way you pant and moan. I want it all for myself." His voice is merely a whisper now. Your hands come up and grab the front of his shirt, no longer being able to take it.

Your lips crash onto his, and he wastes no time in cradling your face with one hand while the other wraps around your waist. Your mind flashes back to last night, but unlike last night there's a sort of hunger lingering between you two. Something primal, and desperate.

A few seconds of heated kisses leads Spencer to lifting you and setting you on the counter where your legs wrap around his waist. Your hand finds his hair and you tug on it slightly, eliciting a breathy pant from Spencer as he places kisses on your cheek down to your neck.

Your eyes flutter shut and your lips fall apart as you're bathed in warm ecstasy. There had been many many nights where you had dreamed of this happening, but now that your dreams are reality it's difficult to fully grasp.

Spencer's fingers slide up your thighs and sneak underneath your shirt. Your back arches into him and you encourage him to keep going. His lips find their way back to your neck and between his hands on your bare skin and his lips hovering over your sweet spot, you're convinced that you may explode from burning desire.

"Spencer please." You beg him, pushing your body to be closer to him, your legs pulling him closer into you.

His breathing is heavy as he pulls away and looks you in the eye. But only for a moment because before you know what's happening, he's scooping you off the counter and taking you to his bedroom.

Spencer places you gently on his bed and wastes no time to get his hands back on you. This time though, his hands travel further south. Your body is hot with need for him, you're sure your cheeks are flushed. And before Spencer takes even a single article of clothing off of you, he takes a step back to take in the view.

"You are so unbelievably beautiful." His breath is airy, his lips a dark pink and just slightly swollen.

Suddenly feeling self conscious about being under his careful gaze, you reach out for him,

"Come here." You tell him and then grab him by the front of his shirt. Spencer supports himself as he hovers above you.

The two of you kiss each other once more, full of passion and desire. You lead his hand to where you need him the most and you feel his breath hit hitch.

"Are you, you're sure about this?" He suddenly sounds nervous and you smile sweetly back.

"There's nothing I want more than you." You truthfully tell him, and he doesn't second guess your words.

His lithe fingers make quick work of the button on your pants and he tugs them down your legs with an almost expert precision. You see his pupils dilate as he looks over your soft skin, his hands grabbing onto your thighs and you swear you hear him restrain a moan.

He works his way towards the thin elastic waistband, his fingers hooking onto it and gently pulling. You lift your hips and watch him as he looks like a man starved, that's just been served a four course meal on a silver platter. His hair hangs down in front of his eyes, but you can still see the need within them.

Your eyes flutter shut once more as you feel the cool air of the room against your half-bare body. Spencer hums in appreciation and his hands find their way back to your thighs. Your breathing increases, you chest rises and falls quickly as you anticipate the feeling of Spencer's fingers.

But before you feel anything, both of your phones ring in the room next door.

Freezing in place, the two of you work your way through your mental fog and debate whether or not it's worth answering. Spencer looks heartbroken, as if he's a child on Christmas that's been told Santa forgot to stop at his house.

"We should, um, we should probably get that." You clear your throat and push away the deep disappointment you feel. Spencer stands up straight and offers you a hand off the bed.

"Yeah, yeah of course." It sounds like he's trying to convince himself and not you. Quickly, you pull your pants back on and find your phone before it stops ringing.

Desire is soon replaced with dread as you think of a hundred different reasons why the team would call both of you at the same time

-----

The entire team sits around the table in the briefing room as Garcia explains her breakthrough discovery. Spencer and you had decided to take seats on opposite sides of the table, but it doesn't help that you're thinking of his hands on your skin. 

"So basically that's how I cracked the AES 128. However, when I cracked it I saw everything he had done and what he was in the process of doing." Garcia explains, though most of the technical talk goes over your head. 

"And what did you find?" Hotch is the first one to speak up and he leans forward on the table, his elbows resting on the hard surface. Penelope takes in a deep breath and her eyes flicker over to Spencer. 

"Well, sir, it looks like he was trying to erase his tracks and replace them with Spencer's credentials. My best theory is that he was going to alter everything and then make the encryption go away so we would find it all. But that's not it, no, Valentine's credentials were used to enter the BAU the night that the evidence was retagged." She elaborates and your eyebrows scrunch together. 

You vividly remember receiving that text from Spencer and a shiver runs down your spine as you realize just how close Valentine's been operating this entire time. You swallow the sickness that wants to rise within you

"And I hate to be the bearer of even more bad news, but I am fairly sure that he went through your personnel file." Penelope looks at you as she speaks, her eyes full of sorrow. 

"That's how he knew where I live." You speak up, throat feeling dry. To keep from crying you bite the inside of your cheek. You had the suspicion that Valentine had done all of this, but to hear it confirmed out loud shakes you to your core. If he looked through your file then he knows just about everything there is to know about you.

This time, it's Spencer who breaks the silence. He stands from his spot at the table and angrily runs a hand through his hair. He paces back and forth before saying anything, probably choosing exactly the right words. Everyone's eyes are glued to him as he stops pacing. He pushes his button-up sleeves to his elbows and looks right into your eyes, like you are the only two in the room. 

"If I find him, I'm going to kill him." His voice is calm, level, serious. His rigid posture and bluntness is something you're vaguely familiar with, but you haven't seen this behavior from him in a long time, not since he was released from prison. 

"Don't-"

"Don't tell me I'm overreacting. We know how these things end. There's no chance in hell I'm letting him get close enough to hurt her. He will have to kill me first before he gets a chance at her. No, if I see him anywhere near me I don't think I'll be able to control myself." He admits. And even though his words should shake you, all they make you feel is safe. 

You know Spencer would go to any length to make sure that you're safe. That much is clear as day to you now. It's almost endearing to hear. And you'd be a liar if you said you wouldn't do the same for him. 

The rest of the team stays silent with his admission. Everyone knows that he means exactly what he said. And surprisingly, nobody tries to talk him down any further. They know he's right, these situations usually end with the victim badly injured or killed. We've seen it enough times. 

"We know how the behavior patterns of stalkers. If he gets wind that we're after him he'll go for her. Spencer, stay with her. The rest of you, it's time to bring him in." Hotch orders in a stern voice. The team is quick to get to their feet and get to work. 

Before you're whisked out of here once more, Spencer stands in front of you to block your path. You look up at him through your lashes and he takes your hands within his. 

"I'm sorry for the way I said everything, but I want you to know it's true. For what he's done to you, my beautiful girl, I would kill him in a heartbeat." He reiterates and it makes your heart beat faster. You squeeze his hands in appreciation. 

"Well, let's hope you don't find him first." You say with a small smile on your face. 

Spencer walks you out of the office with his hand on your lower back. He never once loses physical contact with you until you're safely in his car. And even then, his hand rests on your thigh. You observe his behavior, never having seen him so possessive before. It's interesting to you, seeing this side of him up close and personal. His eyes hold a burning intensity, like he could stare right through someone's soul, his shoulders seem broader from his tense posture, his jaw sharper from clenching it in anger and determination. 

Though it may scare some, it only intensifies what you feel for him. 

[sequinsmile-x]

Battlement

She’d always worn her emotional control like a mask. A wall she’d built brick by brick throughout her childhood, reinforced every time someone didn’t love her like they should have, barbed wire strewn across any potential weaknesses, her wit and stubbornness the turrets to keep people away. It was a defence that very few people were allowed to see past, and even fewer could bypass it completely.

AKA Emily changes her mind about having visitors on the day she gives birth and Aaron faces the disappointed crowd for her.

-x-

Hi friends,

Not really sure where this one came from, but here is some soft hotchniss for you to start your week with <3

Please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: Mentions of labour (non-descriptive), hospitalisation

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She was the happiest she’d ever been. 

She was the most exhausted and out of sorts she’d ever been too, but the tiny baby curled up against her chest was worth it all.

Issac Hotchner was less than four hours old and was already the centre of her, Aaron and Jack’s world. Jack had been obsessed with him when he came to visit just an hour ago, tears shining in his eyes as he held his little brother for the first time. It had been a quick visit, one Jessica had stayed out in the waiting room for, but Emily knew it would end up being one of her favourite memories. 

She winces as she shifts in the bed, the lower half of her body sore in a way she didn’t know was possible, but she smiles softly when she spots her husband jump into action out of the corner of her eye. 

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Aaron asks, his own exhaustion clear as he sits on the edge of her bed. 

“I’m fine, honey,” she assures him, “I had a baby a few hours ago. I’m going to be sore,” she looks down at the sleeping baby in her arms, “I feel weirdly more anxious when he’s asleep,” she admits, “At least when he’s awake I can try shoving my boob in his mouth.” 

“Well that has always been my favourite thing to do when I’m awake,” he quips and she glares at him, failing to suppress a smile as she shakes her head. He smiles and shifts even closer to her, his arm hooked around her shoulders, “You’re already an amazing mom, Em. That’s been true for a long time.”

There’s a gentle knock on the door before it opens, and the midwife, Jen, who’d been looking after them since yesterday pops her head around the door, “How is everyone doing in here?” 

“We’re good,” Emily says, looking down at her son, “I think he’s eaten a little since you last came in. It’s hard to tell.” 

Jen smiles as she steps into the room, “That’s normal, their stomachs are tiny at this stage,” she says, her smile getting wider as she gets closer, looking at Issac content and asleep in Emily’s arms, “And he seems happy enough,” she looks back up at Emily, “You’re doing a great job.” 

It feels ridiculous how happy the praise from a woman who had been a stranger just 48 hours ago makes her feel, but it swells in her chest, her cheeks warm with it as she looks at Aaron. 

“See,” he says, leaning in and kissing her temple, “I told you. You’re doing great.” 

He rarely compared the two women he’d been lucky enough to be married to, who he’d been lucky enough to be loved by and to love in return, but he couldn’t help but think of Haley the last few hours. Emily’s insecurity around how she was doing as a new mom was familiar, an echo of another life that felt so far away yet right here at the same time. He’d tried to fix it for Haley back then, a new parent himself, desperately trying to prove he wasn’t his own father, instead of just doing what she needed. It had led to disagreements he winced at when he looked back on them, made him want to shout at his past self and tell him to just shut up and ask what his wife wanted instead of trying to guess. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes this time. He was going to let Emily lead and only push when he knew she needed him to. 

Emily’s smile shakes as she nods and briefly leans into his kiss before adjusting her hold on Issac as she turns back to Jen, “Do you need to take him for another test?” 

“No,” Jen says, “He’s all yours for now. I did come to say there’s a rather sizeable welcome party in the waiting room for Issac. Do you want me to let them come through?” 

Emily’s smile slips from her face, anxiety she didn’t understand washing over her, the waves of it so strong it pulls her under, making it difficult to breathe. She felt torn open in every possible way. Her labour had been long, pushing her to her limits as seconds felt like hours and hours felt like days. Eventually, after she’d burst into tears when he told her only 30 minutes had passed since she’d last asked, Aaron had stopped telling her the time. He’d simply told her she was doing great, something that hadn’t felt true at the time, and provided whatever physical and emotional support she needed.

The relief she’d felt when she felt her son slip into the world, his cries filling the room only a second later, was unlike else she’d ever experienced. The second he’d been laid on her chest she was overcome with love for him. It spilled out of her onto her cheeks, burning tracks against her skin she was sure would never fade, as she laid a shaky hand on his back. Her trembling breath skipping across Aaron’s face as he kissed her forehead, his empathic love pressed against her skin as he looked back and forth between her and their son, his hand resting over hers on the newborn’s back. 

She wants to share Issac with the world. To show him off and feel pride when people tell her how beautiful he is, but she isn’t sure she’s ready, her every nerve scraped raw, her normal defences torn down piece by piece until it was as if they’d never been there in the first place. She blows out a shaky breath and holds Issac impossibly closer, her hand firmer on his back as if someone was going to snatch him from her. Steal him away along with the sanctuary she’d found with him and Aaron in the last few hours, the relative peace she would have once thought impossible in a hospital room. 

“I…” she trails off, unsure what to say, unsure how to feel and she’s never been more in love with Aaron than she is when he wraps his arm around her shoulder as he talks to Jen. 

“Can we just have a couple of minutes?” He asks, and Jen nods, nothing but understanding in her smile, and he’s sure this is something she’s seen countless times.

“Of course,” she replies, unfazed, and she leaves the room quietly, letting the three of them return to the bubble they’d been in. 

Aaron turns just enough so he can look at Emily properly, “Em, sweetheart, what do you want to do?” 

She sniffs and shrugs, her lips pressed together as she tries, and fails, to stop them from trembling, “I don’t know,” she says, her eyes shining as she looks up at him, “I told them they could come. We agreed they could come after Jack did but…” 

“You don’t know if you’re ready yet,” he finishes for her, wordlessly reaching out and wiping tears from her cheeks, his touch soft and reassuring, his love pressing from his skin to hers. 

She nods, “I just…I can’t stop crying. And I’m so tired. And so sore,” she looks down at Issac, “And he’ll only latch on if we do skin to skin so I’m practically naked and I just feel so…exposed.” 

He knows her well enough to know that she was as worried about how emotional she was as much as anything else. She’d always worn her emotional control like a mask. A wall she’d built brick by brick throughout her childhood, reinforced every time someone didn’t love her like they should have, barbed wire strewn across any potential weaknesses, her wit and stubbornness the turrets to keep people away. It was a defence that very few people were allowed to see past, and even fewer could bypass it completely. It was a kind of trust that had to be earned, something she wouldn’t give away to just anyone, and it was nothing short of a privilege to be the person she trusted the most. The person she let see her like this - as defenceless as he’d ever known her to be. 

He squeezes her thigh and smiles encouragingly when she looks up at him, and he reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, not missing how she leans into the touch as if his touch and the weight of their son on her chest were the only thing keeping her going. He tells himself right then that he’d be her defences until she had her own again.

“Do you want me to send them away?” He asks, and her eyes go wide, her lips pressed together as she briefly shakes her head, ready to say it was fine, that she’d be okay, but he stops her, “Sweetheart, I mean it. I don’t care that they came all the way here, I don’t care that they might be pissed at me. Right now, I only care about you and Issac,” he assures her, his thumb tracing back and forth on her jaw, “Do you want me to send them away?” 

The repetition of his question eases the guilt that had started to build in her chest, his words as gentle as the swirling motion he was drawing on her skin. It pulls a nod out of her, a confirmation she hadn’t known she was going to give until she’d given it. 

“Yes,” she says, turning her head to kiss his palm, hoping beyond anything that it would say everything she couldn’t find the words for, “Yes please.”

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss her, his lips stamping against hers and then her forehead before he leans in to kiss Issac, “I’ll be right back,” he says as he stands up, “You two wait there.” 

Emily scoffs, shaking her head lovingly at her husband, “As if I could get up right now without any help.” 

He turns as he reaches the door and winks at her, smiling when she sticks out her tongue, “I’ll be right back.”

He takes a moment when he steps out of the room. Stands in the hall and takes in a breath, slipping on the Hotch mask he knows he needs for the next few minutes, leaving Aaron the husband, the father, in the room with his wife and newborn. He smiles at Jen as he walks past the nurse's station and towards the waiting room. 

Everyone stands up all at once when they see him, excited chatter and questions overlapping each other in a way he knows would have overwhelmed his wife, making him even more relieved Emily had made the right decision. That she’d put herself first for once. 

“Can I hold him?” 

“How is she?”

“The picture you sent of the boys together was so cute.” 

He smiles, his hands clasped in front of him as he waits for them to stop, his eyes flicking from their faces to the ‘It’s a Boy’ balloons Penelope was holding.

“We really appreciate you coming,” he says, clearing his throat, “But Emily isn’t feeling up to visitors right now.” 

A mix of confusion and disappointment dances across their faces, eyebrows furrowing as the anticipation he’d walked in on fades away.

“She doesn’t want visitors?” Elizabeth asks, the first to break the silence as she crosses her arms over her chest, “She’s just decided this now?” 

He nods, “She has. She was in labour a long time, and it’s going to take her a couple of days to feel up to seeing people,” he says, his jaw set tight in a way that he hopes makes clear this isn’t up for discussion, “I’m sorry you came all the way out here, but it might be best until you wait until we’re home.” 

Penelope frowns, “But we brought balloons.” 

In any other circumstance, he’s sure it would have made him laugh. Her seriousness mixed in with such a ludicrous statement, but he swallows it back, not wanting to undermine what he was trying to do for his wife. 

“I can take them to her,” he offers, “And anything else you’ve brought. But no visitors.”

“Not even for a couple of minutes?” Derek asks and Aaron shakes his head, grateful when the other man relents, clearly having just chosen to push the boundaries only a little. 

“Well, can you at least bring the baby out here?” Elizabeth asks, “I’d like to meet my grandson.”

“No,” he says, raising his eyebrow at her, the closest he had ever come to challenging her, keen to keep his promise to his wife to not argue with her mother on today of all days, “I am not taking my son, who is only a few hours old, away from his mother.” 

She blows out a breath and nods, “Is she okay at least? This isn’t like Emily.”

“Well,” he says, his smile turning soft as he reaches out for his mother-in-law and squeezes her arm, “She’s never had a baby before, but she’s okay.” 

JJ steps forward, an understanding smile on her face as she puts herself between him and the rest of them, “Why don’t we all go get a drink? Wet the baby’s head,” she turns to Aaron, “And then when you’re home and ready we’ll come armed with enough casseroles to fill your freezer and excited to meet him.” 

“That would be great,” he says, smiling gratefully at her, something she shakes her head at, silently telling him it was fine. That she’d been there. 

“Come on,” Dave says, smiling at Aaron as he gets everyone else's attention, “I’ll even buy the first round.” 

“Fine,” Penelope says, pouting in a way he knows Emily would get a kick out of as she hands him the balloons, “Just give them both a kiss from me.”

“Of course,” he replies, “Thank you.” 

He watches as they go, his face twisting into a smile as he hears Spencer explain where the term ‘wet the baby’s head’ originated from, and he sighs in relief when they disappear into the elevator. He heads back to Emily’s room immediately, not wanting to be away from her and Issac any longer than necessary. When he walks back in, balloons first, she chuckles, her smile wide as he sets them down in the corner. 

“You look cute holding balloons,” she says, a spark in her smile that makes him laugh as he walks over to join them on the bed, “Were they okay?”

He kisses her and nods, “They were fine. In fact, I think the team may be about to take your mom to O’Shea’s to wet Issac’s head.”

She laughs, her head thrown back, none of the anxiety he’d seen earlier anywhere to be found, “Now that I would pay to see,” she rests her head on his shoulder, “Want to hold him for a bit?”

“Always.” 

She eases Issac into Aaron’s arms, and she doesn’t quite understand the ache she feels when her arms are empty. She decides to wrap them around one of Aaron’s arms, holding him close as she looks at their son, the three of them sitting there in contented silence. 

“Thank you,” she says eventually, resting her head on his shoulder, looking down at her baby who looked impossibly smaller in Aaron’s arms.

“For what?” Aaron asks, kissing the top of her head, catching the arch of her eyebrow as she tilts her head up to look at him.

“For loving me enough to piss off all of our friends,” she says, her lips curling into a smile, “And my mother.” 

He smiles and holds Issac to his chest with one hand, using the other to hook a finger under her chin, tilting her head further so he can kiss her. He pulls back just enough to speak, “You never have to thank me for loving you, Em,” he kisses her again, “It comes naturally. It would be like thanking me for breathing.” 

She chuckles and shakes her head, tears pressing at the back of her eyes again, “You are ridiculous,” she says, kissing him, only pulling back when she hears Issac cry out, his face screwed up in a frown as they look down at him, “Daddy is ridiculous, Zaccy,” she says, running her knuckle over her son’s petal soft skin, her tumultuous emotions washing over her again, “But we love him anyway.” 

He hears the crack in his wife’s voice and he passes the baby over to her, the soft smile of gratitude she gives him all the confirmation he needs that he’s done the right thing. He shifts them so he’s settled behind her on the bed, her back against his chest as he holds them both in embrace, his lips against her temple as he sighs contentedly. 

“And I love you both,” he says, adjusting the tiny hat on Issac’s head, “So much.” 

-x-

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[slafkovskys]

Listen I think the “Calling my boyfriend my husband” trend would be hilarious with either Keller or Nils (enjoy feral Will Ferrell)

“okay,” you sigh as you prop your phone against the cereal box on the kitchen counter. even after your following had grown, you still refused to invest in any “professional” equipment, “it’s almost eight o’clock now and nils has to be at the airport by nine- i think?”

you cut yourself off with a yawn as the suitcases by your front door catch your eye, “but we’re going to do something a little different today. if you haven’t seen this trend going around, basically people are calling their boyfriends their husbands to get their reactions, but i’m going to be calling my husband my boyfriend to see what he does. also- oh! and here’s the star of the show now.”

nils walks down the hallway with his suit slung over his shoulder, his shirt untucked, and barefoot, “have you seen my loafers, sötnos?”

“are you sure that you didn’t put them in my pile to pack?” you question, sending him a smile when he rounds the counter and places a quick kiss on your lips.

“i don’t think- maybe,” his shoulders fall as he grabs the smoothie you had made for him. he gestures to your phone, “what are you filming?”

“just a morning in my life, combined with what it’s like when dropping my boyfriend off at the airport,” you don’t miss the way that his face twitches at the word, but he doesn’t bring it up, or rather you don’t give him the chance to because you’re ushering him back towards the bedroom, “go get your belt and your shoes, we don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

your next opportunity arises in the elevator when you hold your phone in the air to capture your outfits, “this is what it’s like when your boyfriend plays sports for a living. he’s in a suit at eight am and i’m still in my pajamas to take him to the airport.”

he waits until you stop recording to speak, “‘m not your boyfriend.”

“what?” you act confused as the elevator doors pull open.

“you called me your boyfriend. we’ve been married for almost a month now,” you can’t quite pinpoint what was going on in his head, but you quickly shake it off.

“i didn’t realize. ‘m sorry.”

luck was on your side and of course, you hit the back end of morning traffic. you turn and look at nils— whose expression was still as cloudy as it was in the elevator— and ask, “do you mind if i record and answer a couple of questions people have about when you’re gone? you might have some insight too.”

“sure.”

you had moved maybe twenty feet in the last five minutes, so propping your phone on your center console to capture the both of you was no problem, “so since we’re stuck in traffic because my amazing boyfriend here just could not function without a specific pair of loafers and we had to tear through his luggage to find them,” you squeeze nils’ cheeks and you watch through the camera as he cuts his eyes at you, “we thought that we’d answer a couple of questions that people ask mostly about road trips and how we maintain our relationship with him being gone so often.

“personally, it was hard at first and i’m not saying that it gets easier having a boyfriend who’s away so often, but it’s definitely about having a good support system. we’ve been together for three years now and i’ve got, you know, other wags on the team, my friends and family, and my boyfriend will call at least a couple of times a day when he’s gone, so that’s helpful,” you sigh and look at nils, “what do you think, ni?”

“um, yeah. first, i’m not her boyfriend, i’m her husband. ring and all,” he lifts his hand to showcase his wedding band to your phone, “i don’t know why she keeps saying that like we didn’t just go to get her last name legally changed yesterday, but-”

and that breaks you. you cover your mouth to try and stifle your laughter. nils looks confused as you grab onto his arm with your free hand and try to catch your breath, “oh, you took it better than i thought you would.”

“took what?”

“that’s how i know you don’t watch the tiktoks i send you,” you sigh, “there’s a trend going around where people call their boyfriends their husbands to get their reactions and i decided to switch it to see what you would do. you didn’t disappoint.”

the car in front of you finally moves up a little and nils still looks confused, “so you didn’t forget that we got married?”

“no, ni. i very much remember.”

[avvocarlo]

holy shit I hate the rules and politics within the community services industry

[saviorkink]

x

[scwheeler]

— how to get a girl’s attention

luke castellan x fem!daughter of demeter!reader

warnings: near-drowning experience…

summary: as the daughter of demeter, you’re the first person that everyone turns to when injuries need to be tended too, questions need to be asked, and any type of advice is required, however what’s going to happen when you’re the one in need?

a/n: this one’s quite lengthy guys! i really just got derailed like ten times and love adding details and the ending is kind of basic but whatever; don’t mind me making up random camper names btw lol 👼👼

waking up to the sound of constant bickering was just a normal tuesday morning as your younger half-siblings were already at each other’s throats about some stupid thing. yesterday it was borrowing boots and the day before it was who had to take the trash out.

you groaned, wishing that you could still sleep in peace and quiet but your cabin clearly suggested otherwise. so you gradually got up and put on your little slippers, approaching the main fighters who continued to argue with each other.

“hey hey hey, what’s going on now.” you had to physically get between the two children, separating them with your arms.

“he slipped paint all over my skirt and now it’s ruined!” the young girl cried, holding up her stained skirt to prove it. you took the clothing in your hands and knelt down to face her.

“why don’t i go to the river later today and try to get the stain out myself. it seems washable to me, what do you think?”

with a slight frown, she nodded her head to comply. you were relieved to say the least before turning to the boy, “how about you apologize and come with me to the river after breakfast?”

the boy stayed silent with his arms crossed, trying to avoid your insisting stare. but intimidated enough, he looked to the floor and whispered a small “fine, i’m sorry” with a glare.

you smiled as the situation was deescalated and told the rest of the kids surrounding the pair to hurry and make their beds in order to head to breakfast.

holding hands with the now puffy-faced girl, you tried to tell her about all the fun activities she could do today to forget about the unfortunate morning incident.

before reaching mess hall, the child already had a a bright smile just thinking about the bracelet making and embroidery you promised for the later evening. pleased with your peace-making skills, you sat with the rest of your campers and half-siblings that you were in charge of.

as the eldest sibling and one of the camp counselors, you took on the responsibility of looking after the young ones and caring for almost everyone at camp.

thus, when most of the camp half-blood children had troubles or dilemmas of any sort, they would disregard their own counselors and go straight to you. your kindhearted, yet sociable personality rooted from your mother: demeter.

you were often found laying around in the fruit fields or by the river listening to the water flow through the ground and hit the rocks. like your mother, nature was where you felt at peace, especially with the lack of quiet in your own cabin.

but you still loved your fellow campers and half-siblings, except for one boy who would not leave you alone.

luke castellan.

he liked to push your buttons and see how far he could take you until you’d explode. of course, you always kept your calm until either you just left the conversation or it would be interrupted by a camper in need who was like a knight in shining armor.

it wasn’t that you didn’t like the guy. you liked everyone at camp, including mr. d for gods sake! but something about luke was different. you occasionally saw him with his campers or his friends, he would joke around but never act like he does with you.

when you least expect it, he sneaks up behind you and gets close enough to whisper something in your ear. it could be just a random comment or sentence started but in an alluring voice as if you were friends or even more.

he knows what he’s doing. the moment he finishes, you flinch and get flustered, cheeks heating up and instantly standing up to avoid making eye contact. as you walk away, luke only watches and smiles to himself.

he knows how much power he holds over you, as with just a few words he can make you nervous.

“okay so once everyone’s done, we’ll first go to the archery range and you’ll stay there with counselor clarisse while damien and i go to the river to get that nasty stain out.” you explained and first looked at the boy who begrudgingly agreed to helping you earlier and then winked at the little girl you promised to help.

“counselor clarisse…!” one of the boys exclaimed.

“oh no she’s the mean one!” “yeah, she’s a bully!” your campers all started to agree and mutter remarks about their fear in staying with clarisse.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at their scared little faces, “clarisse? oh gods no! clarisse is not scary, she loves you guys and she’ll take good care of you.”

the children stared at you in disbelief while chowing down their eggs and bacon. “why can’t we just come with you to the river?!” one of the girls begged and began to pout alongside the other ten kids beside her.

you sighed and pursed your lips into a thin line, trying to come up with a compromise but you couldn’t.

“please it’s only for a couple of hours and then i’ll be back for the rock wall and some capture the flag!” you persuaded, trying to lighten up the mood.

but the kids still looked dissatisfied, now poking their breakfast around with their utensils in objection.

“well—” before you could plead another case why clarisse is a perfectly reasonable and responsible counselor and guardian, you were cut off by the one and only.

“aw don’t worry guys, you should listen to your counselor. plus i’ll be there too so if counselor clarisse gets even just a little too scary, you can come and hang with awesome counselor luke!” a voice announced from behind you.

you nearly choked on your food, startled in the surprise voice cutting you off. but the campers were overjoyed to see their second favorite counselor appear. there were an overwhelming amount of comments from the once so silent children, mostly regarding “luke!” and “yay!”

you whipped your head around to face the boy, standing right behind you with nothing but a smug grin on his face. then he leaned in just as he always does and whispered a quick, “you’re welcome” and turned to leave just as fast as he came.

“can we please hang out with counselor luke instead of clarisse?!” all the campers plead with their hands put together and lower lip puckered. left with no other choice by that damn castellan again, you inhaled deeply and slightly nodded which was shortly followed by an array of cheers and excitement.

after dropping off all of the campers in the hands of luke, you put a hand on damien’s back and led him to the river. but before leaving, you had to make sure luke would actually clock in as a responsible counselor.

“so i can count on you to keep them safe for the next couple of hours?”

“wow you sound like you doubt me!” luke said and took a step back with his hands up in fake surrender.

“enough with the games, castellan. are you going to make sure they don’t kill each other and stay unharmed until i return?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment.

luke tried to hold back his smile after you called him by his last name. most of the time, his sparring partners or other counselors would use his last name rather his first. however, when the way you let the ‘n’ slightly my drag after saying it sent chills throughout his entire body.

to hide his delight, he lightly scoffed and crossed his arms at your hesitation. “i assure you that i will protect them with my life. i mean i am the best swordsman at camp,” he added as the corners of his lips just couldn’t help themselves to lift a little.

you rolled your eyes at his self-confidence and how he kept complimenting himself. luke only did it to impress you though, something that hasn’t been very successful.

“okay well alissa has a nut allergy, georgie has a bee allergy, and please keep thomas and will away from the poison ivy. i do not want to spend another summer knee deep in tomato juice.”

luke could only watch and admire as you kept expressing your deep concern for all the kids. he loved how much you cared. but a few more seconds and you would be driving yourself crazy over all the possibilities of something going wrong.

that’s when luke stepped in and softly grabbed your right arm.

“hey, it’s fine. go do whatever you have to do and i’ll come running down to the river if anything goes wrong but i doubt it, i’m pretty responsible y’know.” he reassured and stared straight into your eyes, indicating his sincerity. his smile wasn’t conceited or to drive his ego but rather held a tender emotion.

you looked up into his hazel eyes and suddenly the worries stopped and your nerves were calmed, other than the ones beginning to stir in your stomach. but this was far from the regard about the kids.

this feeling was something else. something new.

“are we going to go already?” the young boy you almost forgot about, whined and rugged on your orange camp t-shirt.

snapping out of your trance and back to reality you answered, “o-oh yeah, i think counselor luke’s got it from here.”

with that you turned away from luke and immediately headed for the river alongside damien but the paint-stained skirt was farthest from your mind now. you tried to shake the new feelings and thoughts out of your body and replace them with your past ones of the kids.

until, “is that guy your boyfriend?”

you quickly looked down to the boy asking the question, with such seriousness in his eyes.

“counselor luke? gods no! i wouldn’t even call him a friend!” you answered swiftly, picking up your pace and hurrying damien in front of you.

“geez…i was just asking!”

as soon as you two got to the river, settling on a few rocks by the edge, you started rubbing the blue-stained skirt with the clear water. damien sat next to you, fiddling his thumbs and staring at the water’s constant movement.

“so are you going to tell me why you did this or not?” you began, keeping your eyes on the skirt.

“i just wanted to.”

“damien.” you urged and this time, you stared directly at him with your eyebrows raised.

he sighed in defeat and gave up on lying to you.

“okay…well i just didn’t know how else to get clara’s attention,” the boy admitted and refused to look at you.

his response warned your heart and prompted your to smile to yourself.

“so you did this, just to get clara’s attention?”

you held up the now drenched skirt and demanded damien to look at you. for a moment, he did and nodded quickly before instantly going back to staring at the rock he was sitting on.

you stifled your laughter at how adorable the young boy you were with was being.

“damien…there are a lot of different and more efficient ways to get clara’s attention. may a suggest one that doesn’t destroy her belongings and ends up with her being angry?” you insisted and squeezed the excess water out of the skirt.

he looked up and nodded again but this time he continued.

“what should i do?”

“why don’t you make her a bracelet when we go back and sincerely apologize.” you suggested while laying out the wet skirt on the rock to dry.

he smiled at your suggestion as you went to sit closer by him. before speaking again, he pulled out a small daisy from his pant pocket and presented it to you.

your eyes focused on the blooming flower that lost a few of its petals due to being stuck in the boy’s pocket for a while now. but the remaining petals still standing were enough to maintain the flower’s beauty.

“when did you become such a gentlemen?” you nudged his shoulder and took the flower from his hands.

“oh, i’ve been giving him some lessons.”

alarmed, you turned to see the familiar face that had been surprising you all day.

“what are you doing here?! how about the kids—who’s watching them?!” you immediately stood up and marched towards the too calm figure standing amongst the trees. but he caught you with both arms, preventing you with ease.

“woah woah, take a breather, they’re with clarisse.” he said and stopped you before you ran back to the mess hall.

reading your expression, luke could tell you were not convinced nor pleased so he had to fix his answer.

“—and annabeth and chris.”

with that you stopped fighting against his grasp and stepped back, finally exhaling.

“you haven’t answered my first question.”

“oh! i just uh wanted to um come and tell you that they’re asking for damien back at camp. they were practically begging me to come over here and get him!”

you narrowed your eyes after he finished, easily indicating the lie.

“okay…you can go damien but remember what i said,” you smiled and patted his shoulder before sending him off back to camp.

the young boy ran off without a care and ready to make that bracelet with a formal apology. luke stood there, quite surprised that his lie that chris helped him think of in fact worked.

“soooo do you need help with whatever that is?” luke pointed at the skirt laid out on the rock.

“no.” you shortly responded and walked back to your rock but luke followed like a lost puppy.

“are you sure? i mean as head counselor for cabin 11, i can cook up a mean batch of laundry,” he insisted and trailed behind you.

unbeknownst to him, you rolled your eyes and cringed at his wording.

“your words don’t even make sense.”

caught in a lie, luke decided actions spoke louder than words and walked past you to the skirt. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he picked it up and crouched down near the water before dunking it back into the water.

shocked and a little annoyed, you hurriedly ran to him.

“what the hell are you doing?! i just washed that! i’m waiting for it to dry dumbass!”

“oh she curses!” he exclaimed, finally getting a real response from you.

you reached for it until luke raised it a little higher, just out of your reach. using his height as an advantage, he held out the clothing as far as he could and to the river.

fed up and exhausted, you went on your tippy-toes and lunged for the skirt. swiftly, luke pulled it close to his body just as you reached leading you to accidentally lean too far.

with a splash, you fell straight into the freezing cold water, unknown to how deep the river was. luke’s eyes widened, he thought you falling in would be funny but once you hadn’t resurfaced within a few seconds he became worried.

without a second thought, he dropped the skirt, pulled off his camp shirt, and dove into the biting waves. as soon as he saw your bright orange t-shirt in contrast to the clear water, he put his arm around your waist and swim towards the surface.

pulling you out to the rocks and laying your body on the ground, he waited for you to gain consciousness. luckily, you started to gasp for air and spit out gulps of water as you sat up.

luke sighed in relief at once. you wiped your face of water and blinked repeatedly until your sight returned to normal. then your eyes were fixated on something else, rather someone. his bare chest stood directly in front of your face, it wasn’t like you were trying to stare!

“i’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to do that and i’m really sorry.” luke recited.

“i-it’s okay.” you stuttered, the cold water chilling your body.

“here take off the wet one and take mine.”

luke grabbed his discarded camp shirt and handed it to you. if you weren’t on the verge of frostbite you would’ve refused, but without another word you agreed and luke turned to face the trees as you pulled the wet shirt over your head and put on luke’s.

“thanks. for saving me and the shirt.”

luke turned back to face you and smiled, “i mean i was the one to make you fall into the water in the first place, it’s the least i can do.”

“aren’t you cold?” you signaled to his bare chest.

“no, i’m okay don’t worry. but your jeans are still wet so let’s head back to camp.” he reassured and helped you get up.

you nodded and let him take the lead. with your wet shirt and skirt in one hand and the other grabbing onto luke’s arm, you two finally made it back to camp. before dropping you off at your cabin, you had to ask.

“why did you come to the river anyway?”

luke awkwardly put his hand on the back of his neck and looked away.

“oh. i just uh wanted to spend time with you.” he admitted, ultimately facing you.

you stopped attending to your dripping pants and looked up at him. he had a genuine smile, now with both hands shoved into his pockets.

how was it that you had never noticed the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes? or the way the orange hues of the sunset highlighted the amber shade his eyes would turn?

“y’know, there are a lot of other ways to get my attention in the first place, that doesn’t involve us falling into freezing cold water.”

luke laughed at your comment which eased the awkward air.

“i had this almost exact same conversation with a little boy of about seven years, and gave him some valuable advice.”

“what was the advice..?” he carefully asked.

“to make her a bracelet and apologize, one of…you’ve already done profusely.” you raised your eyebrow to imply his previous attempt in apologizing nonstop.

“ah, a bracelet you say, okay got it,” luke said and nodded his head.

with that, he bid you a good day and you asked to meet him later at the campfire to return his shirt.

“alright you two sit there, i don’t want to see anymore fighting over the dinosaurs, you can sit here with him, and you three over there—” guiding the campers for the campfire that was just about to begin, you made your way to an empty bench.

smiling to yourself, you watched as your campers finally calmed down and enjoyed the music, giving up on fighting and arguing with one another. someone jumped over the bench and leaned back to sit right next to you, and you had a feeling who it may be.

“luke?”

“yes ma’am.” he replied with a tilt towards you and two fingers from his head.

the campfire lit up his face and highlighted his sharp features that you had somehow missed until this moment. his charming smile urging his dimples alongside his dark curls freshly washed with a new scented shampoo was enough to make you realize you were hooked. damn.

“oh i have a little something for you, give me your arm and close your eyes,” he spoke up and put his hand in his pocket.

raised eyebrow, you reluctantly closed your eyes and gave him your right arm. suddenly in fear of some bug or scary animal on your hand, you slowly retracted it back to yourself until he gently got a hold of it.

he pulled your arm towards him slightly and slipped something on around your wrist. waiting for his approval, you sat questioning what the mystery item could be.

“okay, open.” luke did a little ‘ta-da’ motion once you flickered your eyes open, adjusting to the dark yet orangish lit surrounding.

you looked down at the intricate, handsome bracelet that appeared on your wrist. it was similar to the camp necklaces but the beads were translucent with flowers imbedded into them. except for one bead that was painted a heavenly green, your favorite color.

astonished and at a loss for words, you observed the bracelet, moving around the small beads on the string.

“i’m sorry.”

snapping out of your trance, you instantly stared up at luke after his words in confusion.

“what?”

“you said earlier, ‘there are a lot of other ways to spend time with you that don’t involve us falling into freezing cold water, for starters make a bracelet and apologize.’” he repeated your words from back by your cabin. he remembered.

“so you made me a bracelet and apologize just like i said?” double-checking, you glanced once at the bracelet and back to the dashing boy who looked as if he had stars in his eyes, waiting for your reaction.

“not only for you, i also helped damien make one for that girl he’s got a crush on,” he continued and looked over to the little boy doing the exact same hold-out-your-arm-and-close-your-eyes trick on the girl sobbing about her stained skirt earlier.

she opened her eyes to a freshly washed skirt and matching bracelet, along with a smiling boy who was apologizing and waiting for her reaction. she leapt into his arms with a bunch of ‘thank yous.’ the boy then briefly peered at luke who proceeded to wink and give an approving nod.

happily surprised, you sat gaping at the boy you thought was so infuriating just a couple of hours before. luke knew exactly what he was doing. he knew how much you cared for the campers and your half-siblings, how you would always chose their safety and happiness at the expense of your very own.

it was one of the traits he admired the most about you. even when in a bad mood or not feeling your best, you would put on a brave face and make sure to put their needs in front of you own.

he witnessed it first-hand last week when your campers wanted to go rock climbing but there were dozens of poison ivy already there. thus, to not disappoint the kids, you stayed up all night removing the dangerous plant and relocating them to another area deep in the forest for them to grow.

even with your plant manipulation abilities, with the large amount of the poisonous plant, it took you quite a while. afterwards, you went as far to replace them with lovely daisies you summoned from the gardens in front of your cabin.

during the move from the rock climbing course to the forest, luke had spotted you while some late-night sword practicing because he couldn’t sleep due to apollo cabin next door.

he debated approaching you and settled on only admiring you from afar after you almost finished anyway. he didn’t want to disturb you or aggravate you further than you already were. but leaving you here in the forest during midnight would be wrong.

what if a monster were to come? how were you to defend yourself if you were distracted! therefore, it was just common sense that luke had to keep watch, i mean he even had his sword with him after all.

but once the sun peeped from the tall mountains, he came to a realization that he had just sat and watched you for more than a couple hours. so in order to not get caught, he ran off back to his cabin before anyone would wake up.

only a little after luke headed to bed, morning arrived and you were the first one to break the happy news to your campers that today would be the day for rock climbing. greatly proud and feeling accomplished, you even invited other cabins to join and have a spin at it. including luke’s.

now he was the one to show you how much he cared for the campers as well, focusing on a feature you had great respects for. your shocked expression softened and now leapt into his arms.

“thank you, castellan. really.”

blood rushed to his cheeks and he tried to hide his excitement, but you felt his genuine smile on your shoulder. before pulling away, he stopped by your ear and whispered.

“do i have permission to kiss you, counselor?”

you could’ve giggled at his words and how close his lips were to your ear. without wasting another breath, you pulled his face closer to you and put your lips on his.

feeling the warmth of his breath, you could taste the sweet taste of strawberries he must’ve eaten earlier. only centimeters away, your bodies were attracted to each other almost pressing. the kiss wasn’t long but not short either, somewhat leaving a lasting impression on the other.

yet again you felt a small grin of his lips during the kiss, making you pull away for air. but your eyes were still glued to his, moments away from repeating the act but you both realized where you were and how irresponsible it would look as counselors. so instead he grabbed your hand, now giving you the absolute cutest puppy dog eyes before asking.

“do i have your attention now?”

[sweetnans]

firefighter!katsuki x reader PLEASEE 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

As you wish🪄💫

You knew and everybody did too that you weren't the most appropriate person to cook so you tried baking instead. It turned out that you weren't good either now that your kitchen was on fire.

Thankfully, you were fast on calling 911 and they sent you a firefighters unit to help you out.

A bulky red-haired man entered your house while you tried to extinct the fire with your tiny extinguisher. He grabbed you gently by your shoulders, guiding you out of your house so they could bring all the equipment without you standing in their way.

"I bet they would have been delicious" he gave you the most charming and calming smile.

If only he knew...

You were sitting in one of the trucks. One of the firefighters was taking your statement and checking on you for burns and any sort of wounds. You were dissociating while he tried to make you talk.

In your mind, you thought that, thank god you lived in a house and not in an apartment complex. You couldn't live with the shame after setting your kitchen on fire, having all the people gathered around you for the disaster you made. It wasn't like your neighbors weren't there. The moment that the fire siren made his appearance in the block, the nosy neighbors alerted the others, and now they were all by their windows watching you from afar, in comparison with apartaments, at least they were far away from it and you didn't compromised their houses.

"You can't bake shit"

A tall and muscled man blocked the sun from you and got you out of your thoughts in an instant.

"Excuse me?" You were leaving the haze you induced yourself to keep away the embarrassment from burning down your kitchen while making cookies.

"What he was trying to say is that we extinguished the fire, and everything is perfect. Well, almost... Do you have someone you can stay with?" The red-haired man interrupted the angry blonde.

"Mm yeah, I think so"

The interaction was pretty odd, and you tried to maintain your focus on the problem.

"How do you even set your stove on fire?" The blonde continued while the other gave him a warning glance.

"You were right," you jumped off of the truck. "I can't bake shit"

You looked sad and obviously you were. Your first attempt to do something new ended up on you spending the night at your brother's house.

While talking with the EMTs and other firefighters, Bakugo couldn't help but notice your gaze and your face. You looked like you were about to burst into tears.

A few days passed from the incident, you were tired, working your ass off, day and night, to fix your house so could go back there, filling up papers to see if your insurance covered the damage while giving your brother a hand watching his kids after school.

You were on the verge of crying when someone knocked on the front door.

"Hey?" You opened the door slightly to see a man standing in front of you with a box in his hands. You didn't recall hearing your brother saying something about an incoming package.

"You match the description he gave me. This is for you, " he smiled.

The blonde who looked like he was going to some party handed you the package, turned around, and left you there feeling uneasy.

Most of the time, in this situations you acted distrustful, but the man didn't give you time to think about the possibilities.

What if it was a bomb?

You wouldn't be surprised afted the incident. You had something with fire and explosions.

Grabbing the box, you walked to the kitchen. Thankfully, the kids were asleep in their rooms, so if it was a bomb, you would have some time to run away from the kids and the house.

You expected, well, a bomb, explosives, or some detonating device. Well, you were wrong.

A cute purple box with a white ribbon on laid down.

You opened the box, and for your surprise, there were tons of cookies of all shapes, colors, and flavors. You were shocked until you saw the card.

Hey, the fire department went by your house yesterday, and we noticed that what originated the fire was your stove. The wires were defective. We filled up the papers already, and the company promised to fix your house and equip it with everything you lost in the fire.

Give me a call when everything is ready, I'll teach how to bake properly without losing your house in the process.

Bakugo Katsuki.

...

I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected 😪 my brain is dry

[iiping]

kaveh snapping at alhaitham for buying another ugly wood carving… except he forgot it was his birthday 👀

read my short fic on twitter here or see more below! 🫶

—

“This looks absolutely nothing like me!” Kaveh snaps at the rough-out Aranara carving that suddenly shows up one morning, looking so blonde and angry.

Alhaitham comes out of his room at this moment and walks over to their common shelf where the architect stands.

Kaveh has a meeting with a particularly frustrating client today and he’s feeling so anxious that he cannot help but snaps at Alhaitham too, “How many times do I have to tell you not to bring ugly wood carvings into our home!?”

Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, his lips tightens. Something unfathomable flashes across his eyes and disappears just as suddenly.

“Do whatever you want with it then,” Alhaitham says finally after an awkward silence. Then he grabs his key from the shelf and turns his back to walk towards the front door without saying another word.

Kaveh looks at him leaving the house in puzzlement. It is not a rare occasion to see the Scribe not bothering to argue with him but Alhaitham never walks away after saying only one sentence before. He looks as if he’s angry or even…pouting? Kaveh is not sure if that word can describe Alhaitham.

Maybe Kaveh did something wrong? He gasps at the thought.

Is it because the smell of the cream soup he made yesterday was too strong? Or maybe it was the fact that the house is now so messy because he’s in the middle of tidying up things? Or maybe he moved or touched some books he wasn’t supposed to?

Kaveh ends up thinking for the whole day. He even spaces out during the client’s meeting and almost drops the model when he tries to present his plan.

He thinks and thinks but nothing comes to his mind. They have been on unusually pretty good terms lately, so he cannot think of something recent that might have made Alhaitham upset.

Kaveh is so deep in thought he almost bumps into Collei on the way home.

“Ah! Sorry!” Kaveh exclaims then realizes who it is, “Collei! I didn’t know you were in town today!”

Somehow, the trainee Forest Ranger looks shocked to see him. She quickly picks up something that fell to the ground when they bumped into each other earlier. Kaveh catches a glimpse of a small green box with yellow ribbon before Collei swiftly hides it behind her back.

“It’s so good to see you! Wanna grab something to eat?” Kaveh asks, ignoring her suspicious behavior. He’s not ready to go home just yet, not when he still hasn’t figured out what he did wrong.

“Uh, sorry I have somewhere to be today,” Collei replies nervously, avoiding to meeting his eyes, “If you will excuse me, I really need to get going.”

Then she takes off before he can say another word.

Kaveh ruffles his hair in confusion. What is going on today?

After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he decides that he has no other place to go except the good old Lambad’s Tavern.

He sits down at a table and orders a drink even though it’s merely 5PM.

“Hey, Kaveh!” Lambad shouts his name from behind the counter, “That one’s on the house! Happy Birthday!”

Oh. Shit.

A realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

“How could I forget!” he cries, standing up abruptly, “It is my birthday!”

He tells Lambad that he’ll take a raincheck on that glass of wine before leaving the tavern. Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can and finds Alhaitham standing in front of the shelf with the Aranara carving on one hand and a bag on another.

Alhaitham raises his eyebrows when he sees Kaveh practically flying from the front door.

“No, wait—-“ Kaveh tries to catch his breath, “D-don’t throw that away!”

“Oh?” Alhaitham puts down the Aranara and turns to face the architect. “Seems like you finally remember something.”

“Sorry for what I said this morning,” Kaveh blurts out, “I know it sounds like an excuse but that client’s project kept me frustrated all night and I shouldn’t have taken it on you.”

Alhaitham looks at him silently.

“Alright, alright,” Kaveh puts two hands in the air, “I apologize for calling it ugly.”

The Scribe lets out a chuckle right this second. It is clear that he does not intend put up any fights with Kaveh on his birthday.

Alhaitham hands him the Aranara in question and asks, “Will you also stop calling my other wood carvings ugly?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaveh replies with a beaming smile. His eyes light up as he takes the wooden figure in his hands.

Alhaitham gives him birthday presents every year but they are usually books or drafting tools. This is the first time Kaveh has received something custom-made. Well, from anyone, really.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning,” he mumbles, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. “Sure, it looks a bit cruder than that one in your bedroom which I kind of like, but the more you look at it, the mor—- Hey!”

“I changed my mind,” Alhaitham announces with a straight face, the Aranara is now back to his hand. “I’m taking it back.”

Kaveh blinks.

“What did you just say!?” he raises his voice.

“I don’t see any reasons why it should be in the possession of someone who doesn’t appreciate it,” he replies simply while putting the wooden figure in the bag, then starts to walk to the entrance hall.

“How do you know I don’t appreciate it!?” Kaveh follows him, trying so hard not to yell at his back, “This is ridiculous! You just gave it to me literally a second ago!”

That does not make Alhaitham slow down one bit. In the heat of the moment, Kaveh charges at him without thinking.

Next thing he knows, they are both on the floor with Alhaitham being beneath him. He quickly snatches the bag from the Scribe’s hand and sits up.

“Ha!” Kaveh exclaims, raising it in the air in victory. “You cannot walk away from me this time! Don’t you know that it’s rude to take back what you have given!?”

When there isn’t any response, Kaveh glances down, only to see that Alhaitham is covering his face laughing.

Kaveh looks at this scene in disbelief.

“Were you just teasing me!?” he asks with a high-pitched voice, “Oh my god, who are you? What have you done to my Alhaitham?”

“I couldn’t help,” he is still laughing, “You should’ve seen your face.”

It’s extremely rare for Kaveh to see a silly side of Alhaitham, let alone seeing him laughing like this. Kaveh stares dazedly at him, completely forgetting why he was mad in the first place.

“You can have the Aranara,” Alhaitham says with a smile, “Will you get off me now? Although I don’t really mind—-”

Kaveh interrupts this sentence with a cough, just realizing what a dangerous position they are in. He shifts to move out of the way, but at this moment, a small piece of paper falls of the bag and lands on Alhaitham’s chest.

The Scribe’s eyes widen as he moves to reach for it, but Kaveh is quicker.

Seeing what’s on there, he is speechless.

Alhaitham covers his face again, but his ears are turning visibly red. The worse thing is, Kaveh can also feel his face burning too.

“You carved this,” he asks softly, “for me?”

After a while, Alhaitham admits with a sigh, “Yes.”

Kaveh is dumbfounded. He assumed that it was merely a commission. Never has he ever thought Alhaitham would go that far to do something like this for him.

“That’s why you’ve been coming home late for the past week!” Kaveh just remembers how unusual it was when he said that he needed to work overtime.

“You knowing this wasn’t part of the plan, I was too careless.” he says flatly and decides to pull himself up, unintentionally getting closer to Kaveh. “Now it’s good time for you to forget you have seen that workshop receipt.”

“Nuh-uh,” Kaveh pokes his chest, “This Aranara is now worth a million mora to me.”

“You have just burdened yourself with a new enormous debt then” Alhaitham teases.

“Hey!”

“I think wood craving has grown on me.” Alhaitham smiles, “So I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with these ugly figurines for now.”

“Come on, they are not that ugly,” Kaveh chuckles, “But we do need to set up a proper corner for them so they don’t disrupt the current aesthetic.”

The Scribe can’t help but roll his eyes at this comment.

“Seriously though, thank you” Kaveh softly touches his shoulder and looks directly into his eyes, “It’s the first time someone did something so special for me. I will always treasure it.”

The Scribe stares back at him and without a warning, Alhaitham pulls him into his arms and whispers to his hair, “Happy Birthday, Kaveh.”

After that, Collei, along with Cyno and Tighnari, burst open their front door right when they are still hugging in the hallway. Kaveh’s face turns as red as a tomato as Alhaitham helps him up on his feet.

The night cannot be more perfect. The house is filled with the smell of good food, laughers and joy. His most favorite dishes are laid out on the table and the gifts are waiting for him to open. Wine never tastes better and even Cyno’s jokes are funnier than usual.

Kaveh watches as everyone starts to eat and cheerfully discuss about what games they are going to play tonight. His heart aches a bit thinking of how much he does not want to ever lose this; his friends, his happiness, his home.

And when his eyes accidentally meet with Alhaitham’s, he cannot help but wonder, would things turn out differently if he hadn’t met the Scribe at the tavern that night where he had taken Kaveh in?

He tries harder now to stay happy, to actually listen to some of Alhaitham’s advice, the sensible ones at least.

“Don’t burden yourself with something unnecessary from the past and from the future”, he would say.

So instead of dwelling on the past regrets and unknown future, Kaveh thinks he is ready now to find comfort in the present happiness.

(END)

[perfectlyoongi]

HUSBAND!YOONGI who asked you to marry him without a ring or planning, just the desire to be yours forever motivating Yoongi. you were about to go to bed, tired from another long day of work, but when he looked at you, focused on your night routine, arranging things for the next day, Yoongi realized that was a vision he wanted to have for the rest of his life; Yoongi's words came without hesitation, spontaneous, carrying with them all the hope and desire for a full life by your side. “let’s get married. i can't bear to spend another day with the fear of losing you. i want this life we have forever.”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who at your wedding, at the end of the day under the sunset, pulled you away from all the guests and said private vows just for you. at the ceremony Yoongi was nervous, too eager to hurry up the ceremony and finally have you forever and ever, and, as such, his vows were beautiful, yes, but brief; however, when the day was ending, when dancing and laughter occupied all the space, Yoongi gently held your hand, taking you to the garden, pouring out his soul in the form of simple words. “i promise to love you. not as i love you now, or as i loved you yesterday, but as i will love you tomorrow and the day after, for i continue to fall in love with you constantly and my love will never diminish, only grow.”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who sits in the kitchen with a guitar and serenades you. whenever you were cooking, cleaning the kitchen, or simply working, Yoongi would take his guitar to the kitchen and embellish your tasks with a gentle melody echoing through the room, the music that your husband played for you comforting your heart and making you smile every time Yoongi decided to accompany his guitar with his sweet voice. “i wrote a new ballad with you in mind. wanna hear it?”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who likes to be the little spoon when you take a nap on a sunday afternoon. Yoongi liked to have you in his arms, to have the feeling that, in a way, he was protecting you from the world and that he contained within you all the essence of your soul that made you so unique, so beautiful; however, Yoongi wasn't going to deny that he also liked to feel held, to have your hands around his body in a warm blanket of pure love and tranquility. “do you want to take a nap with me? i wouldn't mind being held now... because… i need you, to... you know. please?”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who adopted a dog on your first anniversary. Yoongi would be lying if he said he hadn't been thinking about a family with you since the day he told you he loved you — it was stronger than him. you made Yoongi dream, dream about things he never thought he wanted, things he never thought he was worthy of wanting; you were magic for Yoongi, an eternal source of dreams and hope and he just wanted to repay you — a dog, an animal that would keep you company when he was away, an animal that was capable of loving you almost as much as Yoongi, almost. “i don’t know what magic you have in you, but i just want to continue to grow with you and make our relationship grow. this dog is the beginning of our family.”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who reads you books out loud when you are tired or sad. Yoongi asked you to lay your head on his lap and choose the book he would read: poetry, fantasy, even plays he was capable of reading and interpreting for you if it meant you resting and laughing for moments; there were entire hours of nothing more than your husband's melodious words filling the room, various tales and stories coming to life through his voice while you closed your eyes and let yourself be carried away by the narrative recited by Yoongi. “if i read you shakespeare and look at you while i read the love dialogues, does that count as a confession from me to you?”

HUSBAND!YOONGI who loves you unconditionally for years and years on end, the feeling that was planted in Yoongi's heart only growing with each moment shared with you without ever withering or losing a single fragment. as if linked by the oldest constellations, your love was constant, long ago idealized by the universe itself with traces of stars and magic making your relationship lasting in each lifetime. “i don’t want to stop dreaming about you. i don't want to stop loving you. you are the only reality for me and i only exist with you by my side.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

SOFT LAUNCH

A/N: luckily i actually wrote this concept for once lol

WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: You officially soft launch your relationship.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Your usual barely changed when your relationship with Harry moved from a friendship to a romantic relationship. Well, at least your public usual. 

Because in the privacy of your home or when around you it’s strictly the people you trust, a lot changed. The kisses, the touches, the looks, it’s obvious just how hard you fell in love with each other and your friends often tease the two of you for being great actors for hiding all of these the moment you step out into the public. Very early into your relationship the two of you agreed to keep it as private as possible, so the world didn’t see a single thing of how you eased from being friends into becoming a couple. 

Spotting you out and about together wasn’t a new thing, you’d been friends for a while before you finally took everything down another road, there were plenty of pictures of the two of you grabbing lunch or coffee, hanging out with friends or even attending events. The moment you were spotted for the first time rumors started spreading that you might be an item, but with time they died down and back then, they weren’t true. But what people didn’t see was the shift that happened behind all those simply friendly pictures, how you both fell for each other and your love blossomed steadily and undeniably behind the scenes while everyone else started to accept that you are nothing more than good friends. 

There were photos, still, but what the tabloids didn’t see was the kiss you shared the moment you were behind closed doors. 

It’s been over ten months and you’re definitely over that first phase where all you can see is the pink clouds, no one around you is questioning if this is just a fling, it’s quite clear you are planning your future together. 

There is a downside of keeping your relationship in the shadows however, a kind of freedom is taken away that’s given for everyone else. Date nights have been restricted to your or Harry’s place, if you wanted to go out somewhere you always needed extra people around you so it wouldn’t look romantic. You haven’t been able to go on a vacation, just the two of you, because it would draw suspicion, so it’s been always with others, friends and family. You can’t set your favorite photo of him as your lockscreen, because fans are always quick to spot him in the tiniest details. 

It’s not that you want to post about him day and night, that’s not your style, never was, you like to keep things private, it might be selfishness or consciousness, doesn’t matter. But some days it would be nice to hold his hand as you walk down the street, share a reassuring kiss as you wait in line at the coffee shop or share a photo to your Instagram that features him and only him. 

So it’s been lingering in the back of your head, the thought of being just the tiniest bit more public, allowing yourself to enjoy your love outside of the comfort of your home. 

This is what your mind is racing about as you watch Harry move around the room. The warm Italian sun is peeking through the curtains, calling your name for another wonderful day, exploring Rome. The white, rippled sheets are snaked around your body comfortably, the other half of the bed is still warm from his body. You’re currently residing in a villa that’s hidden enough from curious eyes to let you be yourself even in the backyard, not just inside. 

You mindlessly scroll through your photos from yesterday while Harry is showering and when he appears with a towel wrapped around his hips, hair still damp, water drops running down his chest as he is scratching his jawline and you already know what his question will be. He stops at the end of the bed and opens his mouth, but you’re quicker.

“Do you think I should shave it?” you ask, imitating his voice by lowering yours. He gives you a cheeky look.

“Well, should I?”

“Told you, I love you both ways.”

“Okay, but you surely have a preference,” he pushes.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the pillow, keeping eye contact with him. 

“The stache is… always more than welcomed.”

He chuckles and then walks back in. When he emerges a minute later he is dressed and his facial hair is still the same. 

“Up, up! We have a lot to see today!” He reaches under the covers and easily finds your leg, wrapping his hand around your ankle he tugs on you gently, to which you just grunt at him disapprovingly. 

“Just five more minutes!”

“Come on, don’t you want to explore more?”

“Yeah, but I also want to sleep more.”

“Think of all the pasta and pizza we could be eating right now…” He barely even finishes, you’re already jumping out of bed, sprinting towards the bathroom. Harry just chuckles.

A couple of hours later your little group is grazing the streets of Rome again. You haven’t planned anything major for today, just exploring and having a relaxing time. To be honest, your feet are thankful for a slower day, you feel like you’ve walked around the world these past couple of days. 

Sometime after lunch, your group breaks up. Some want to go souvenir shopping, others want to go back to the villa while you and Harry plan to check out a hidden little park you read about online. So now it’s just the two of you strolling down the streets and as you listen to Harry talk, all you can think about is how your hands are hanging by your sides, sometimes even brush against each other, but you can’t hold his. 

When you find a great spot with amazing view of the city you instantly want to take a picture together, one where Harry is hugging you from behind, the panoramic view of the city in the background, you can already see the picture in your mind and you also think of a place in your home where it would look amazing framed. 

But you know you can’t take a photo like that, you can sense how a few girls recognized the two of you, now they are a few feet away, pretending like they are just casually taking videos, but you know they are recording you and Harry, so you can’t risk it. 

Instead, you both just take pictures of each other, staying as friendly as possible. Your phone is still in your hand when the girls come up to Harry at last, starting a chit chat with him and asking for photos that you end up taking of them of course. They thank his time politely and the two of you move on. 

When you’re lying in bed at the end of the day you’re scrolling through your gallery, smiling to yourself at some of the candid pictures you’ve snapped of Harry today. These are your favorite, when he is just being himself and you catch a glimpse of his true essence, keeping it forever in that frame. 

Then you find a photo you took probably accidentally when the girls approached you earlier. You must have snapped it when you were putting away your phone, it features Harry standing on the cobblestone, but only his feet and his tattooed arm is shown, his skin is a warm tanned color from being out in the Sun so much lately, his tattoos look so cool, you always loved the edge they give him. It’s also such a candid picture and for some reason you just love it so much, it’s exactly the kind of photo you’d post on your Instagram story. 

The door to the bedroom opens and Harry walks in with two bottles of water in his hands, he places one to your nightstand before he joins you in bed, opening his. 

“Why are you staring at a photo of my… arm?” he asks with a chuckle, when he sees what you have open on your screen. 

“You have a nice arm,” you grin up at him. “I just… like this photo,” you add with a shrug. 

Harry hums, but doesn’t really get stuck on the topic. He turns his attention to his own phone, sneaking one arm under your head, pulling you closer to cuddle him. But you’re still stuck on the photo and all the feelings and thoughts you’ve been struggling with. 

“H?” you finally lift your head to look at him. 

“Yes baby?”

“Have you ever thought of… being a bit more public? About us?”

He locks his phone and puts it aside to give you his undivided attention. He never fails to make you feel like his number one priority.

“I have, yeah.”

“And what do you think if we just… went for it? What if we just stopped hiding.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I just… I would love to act like a couple more, not just when we’re alone, behind closed doors. I’m not saying we should make out on the street, but… Holding hands, a few tiny kisses, these would be nice.”

Harry stays silent and you grow nervous that he might see it all entirely differently. You know it better than anyone else that Harry values his privacy highly, however he is not the most private public figure either, that’s also fact. 

His gaze finds yours and slowly, you notice a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. 

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’m okay with that as well.”

“Really?” You let out a relieved breath as you sit up in surprise. He chuckles.

“Of course. I just wanted to protect you. And I will still be doing that, but if you feel like you’re okay with being a couple for the rest of the world as well, then let’s do that.”

At first you pout at him, touched at how calm and supportive he is about the whole thing, then you just throw yourself at him, kissing him stupid. 

“So then can I soft launch you?” you ask against his lips. 

“What?” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Soft launch. I want to post this picture,” you say holding up your phone again, showing him the photo from earlier, “on my Instagram story. Your face is not shown, but everyone will know it’s you. That’s a soft launch, posting a suspicious but not straight forward picture of your partner.”

“Okay, Miss Urban Dictionary,” he laughs, his hand cupping the back of your head to bring you down for another kiss. 

Cuddling to his side you open Instagram and then put the line ‘LOVE-ly day in Rome’ between his tattoos so it’s not quite what you notice at first, but it definitely catches your attention if you look at the photo for a few more seconds. 

“How do you like it?” you ask, showing him your phone.

“The best soft launch of history,” he teases you before you finally post it. 

Then you watch what happens together. Though you don’t have as many followers as Harry does, a lot of his fans engage with your social media profiles as well, hoping to get some content from you as well. Just a few minutes later the photo starts spreading across the internet of course, it reaches Twitter, Tiktok and other platforms, the reactions are mixed and pretty much all over the place, some aren’t the nicest, but Harry is quick to remind you just how much he loves you. 

When you both put your phones away, shutting the rest of the world out, you’re lying in bed, facing each other, your hands laced together between the two of you. 

“Now it’s out there,” you whisper.

“Softly,” he jokes and you just roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Is hard launch a thing as well?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that like?”

“Well, it has to feature your pretty face, preferably in a romantic setting.”

“Will we also be doing that?”

“Hmm… maybe.”

“Okay,” he smiles warmly. “But soft or hard, I will always love you.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[vivvangel]

fantasize | sim jake (extended ver.)

synopsis: nerd jake who's known to be quite self reserved, but he cannot seem to get you and your skirt out of his mind. › pairings & contents: nerd!jake x classmate reader, dom!jake x sub!afab!reader. smut with plot ✧ warnings: kissing and teasing!! - perverted thoughts, jealousy, fist-fucking (jake), blowjob, doggy position, guided mastrubation, jake has a thing for skirts, heavy degradation.

can be read by itself, however, reading the headcannons is advised !

wc: 1.5k

ever since he jerked off to the imagination of fucking you in that pretty skirt — jake thinks he's lost his mind. jerking off so often, getting horny so often, that wasn't his thing before, but you absolutely ruined his brain wearing that skirt.

"ah, fuck" he hisses, rubbing his tip. every time he closes his eyes and strokes his cock just a little faster, jake can't help but fantasize about the ways you probably would swallow all of his cum, maybe even whimper his name,, how your pussy would be throbbing, dripping wet for him only. he didn't even know he could crave someone so much, so desperately, so fucking desperately.

with his swift hip movements, jake continues to thrust his cock into his tight fist, in desperate hopes of recreating the sweet tightness of your perfect cunt. he was mentally cursing at myself for fucking his fist so many times at just the mere sight of you, but nonetheless, he tightens his grasp around his cock to mimic the tightness of your, what he imagined to be your perfect pussy, his head falls against the bed's headboard of his bed, as literal shocks of warm satisfaction blurred his peripheral vision — "f-fuck", jake grunts, letting his eyes roll back.

this can't be this way. he has to have you, one way or another. he scoffs, thinking to himself that this is completely ridiculous. why would someone like you even look at someone like ... him? he brushes his thoughts off, and goes to his desk to finish some assignments off.

the day after went as bad as it could. he was sitting in his usual place, a row or two behind you, and what does he see? he glares at the guy next to you, with his arm around your shoulder. he wants to approach the guy in question, and do something he would regret. he groans to himself, and as the lecture continues, he grows more and more restless, and if it was even possible, even more jealous. once the lecture finally ends, he's the first to get out of the room, and to his other class. that night, jake didn't get off to you, resulting in him being extremely, ungodly, horny the next day.

he can't bring himself to approach you, knowing you might have a boyfriend, but he gets over his nervousness and goes up to you — and holy shit, you're wearing a short skirt again. "hey, uh y/n -- do you have-" he pauses, his eyes travelling down to your legs and thighs, but he looks back at you. "uh, yesterday's notes?", you tilt your head, as a smirk spreads on your lips, but you play dumb to his sudden question, you nod. "you could've just texted me, jake", you softly say, taking out your notebook out of your bag. he has no idea how he's keeping his cool, but you know his name? oh fucking hell. "u-uh, i could've but, i don't have your number" he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, making you chuckle. "give me your phone, i'll put it in if you need me next time" you smile, giving him your notebook. jake almost hurriedly takes his phone out, motioning it to you and letting out a dry chuckle, "t-thanks" god, he felt fucking stupid. how did you have him stumbling over his words? little did he know, you thought he was so fucking cute.

you grab his phone from him, putting your number in, saving the contact as "y/n baby💋" and when jake reads that, his eyes widen. "y/n baby?" he hesitantly asks, "yes?" you respond, the smirk never left your face, and his jaw drops. "no, i meant --" he's unsure of what to say, he's literally flabbergasted. you let out a chuckle, "i'm messing with you, i get it" — "don't you have a boyfriend, though?" he abruptly asks, his tone almost coming off as protective. "me? what?, no" you tell him, completely confused as to how he came to that conclusion. "the guy, yesterday, arm around your shoulder and all-"

"you were watching me yesterday, too?"

"that's not what i asked"

"so, you were watching me yesterday, too"

"for god's sake, y/n — wait, what do you mean 'too'"

you stand up, crossing your arms. "do you think i don't see you staring at me, jakey?" you smirk, and he's trying to form a coherent sentence. "i'm not-- 'm not staring, just.." he trails off, unsure how to end that sentence. you break the silence, "jake, i have another class in a bit, i'll see you later today? i'll text you! bye?" you wave, rushing out of the room to get to your class. all while jake stood there, dumbfounded.

jake has no idea how he was in deep inside you and you on the other hand, had no idea how someone that cute could be this hot. you felt almost stupid for thinking he'd be the submissive type. boy, were you so so wrong. you didn't know that that a mere skirt, and some teasing was all it took jake to smash his lips onto yours, and pulling you onto his lap — in his dorm, may i add. you were flustered, how could someone who looked so innocent be so . . . sexy?

and what exactly followed afterwards?

his hands explored your body under your crop-top, and you couldn't help but let out a moan into his mouth, in the heat of the moment, riling him up further. he pulls out of the kiss, slapping your thigh, making you whimper. "what a fucking slut, do you just let anyone touch you, huh?" you shake your head, signalling a no — you expected him to be nicer with your response, but you earn another slap on your exposed thigh. (you think to yourself, "maybe wearing a skirt is useful after al"l)

"wear skirts these days intentionally, don't you? you like the attention you get? what a desperate slut" he scoffs, resulting in you biting your lip. how was he degrading you so bad, but you liked it? "j-jakey.. please do something, anything" you breathe out, and he lets out a dry, almost dark, chuckle. "anything? mhm, you'll take anything i give you like the good girl you are, right baby?" you nod your head, feeling your panties drenching by the second. "hmm, 'm not gonna let you off so easily, earn it, slut" — your eyes widen,, "are you okay with this, pretty?" he asks, his tone coming off more kind and soft, it's almost like a whisper. "treat me like the slut i am, jakey" — "is that so?"

you don't understand why, but his voice makes your core keep tingling. you choke over your own words, making jake smirk. "on your knees, pretty girl" he demands, and you reciprocate immediately, getting on your knees on the floor, as jake slouches on the couch, you can see his raging boner under his sweatpants — and holy shit. your hands hurried pull down his pants, quietly gasping at his length, making him smirk. "too big for your pretty little mouth, mhm? too bad, baby". you wrap your hand around his cock, jake's own hand enveloping yours, "fuck slut, cmon, it's all yours" he uses your hand to stroke himself up and down, jerking himself off while you look up at him with glazed eyes. "f-fuck baby, your hand feels so good, mind letting me how your pretty mouth feels?"

you would never ever deny, wrapping your lips around his cock, your tongue eagerly licking and teasing his cock, making him grunt. "d-don't tease, baby". jake suddenly felt your lips sliding up and down the head of his length, feeling his cock hit the back of your neck. jake groans when you take him deeper, and deeper into your mouth. he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, his hands then going to the back of your head, holding you as he starts thrusting his hips unintentionally. you almost gag, but you control it. as jake pushes his dick down your throat for one last time, he lets go. his cum filling your mouth, and dripping down your chin, "fucking hell, baby. you look so pretty my baby" he says, picking you up. you'd think as a nerd, jake wouldn't have time to work out, but you were so wrong. he was rather . . . strong, to your surprise.

taking you to his bedroom, he wastes no time. "i'm asking just to be sure, though you're clearly more than ready, but-- can i do this, baby? fill your cunt to the brim, baby?" he asks softly, putting you down on his bed. "please, jakey, please..." is all you could say, and that's all it took him to undress you, not taking your skirt off, you tug at your skirt, but he puts your hand away. "what?"

"want the skirt on" he simply answers,

"you have a thing for skirts?"

"just on you, i guess" he awkwardly chuckles.

"should wear them more often"

"that-- that, you should"

he kisses you, "day dreamt about this, baby, got off to the thought of you so many times" he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "on your stomach for me, please, pretty?"

what can he say? he can't get over the thought of fucking you in a skirt

and, let's just say, assignment completed !

viv's note 💌: thank you for waiting so patiently for this, lovies. hope yall like it. and before u complain about the ending!!! i wanna give you guys a separate smut drabble of that instead of having it here! hope you all aren't disappointed:/ love u guys sm<3

taglist: @strayy-kidz @raelyaa @myspamera @spabrin @ikaw-at-ikaw @kenzory @yaatrickyaaa @nakedsim @heelvsted @isa-2007 @keepingupwithjaeyun @jellyporo @woooooya @sussyjake @jaeyunology @maryismad @maoyueze tagged some of my moots too ♡

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and saw that your requests were open so I thought I’d shoot this over. If you don’t vibe with it don’t worry about skipping it. I was wondering if I could request a James x reader where they are living together and definitely love each other but they’ve kind of slipped into a roommate phase. Like they’re just living around each other and reader starts feeling insecure and scared and doesn’t know how to get back into normalcy. Maybe a little angsty with some fluff at the end

Thanks lovely!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.4k words

When James comes in the front door, his shoes squelch. You look him up and down, dripping wet and mud caked up to his knees. You wince. 

“Rough practice?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” James says, dropping his bag by the door and heading for the kitchen. 

There’s an exhausted slump to his shoulders, and his shoes leave a muddy trail of footprints, and you hate to do it, but—

“Would you mind taking off your shoes?” 

“Oh.” James looks down. You see him follow the trail with his eyes. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You hate yourself as soon as it’s out of your mouth, because that’s exactly the sort of thing you’d say if it wasn’t fine. And yeah, you’re a bit peeved that he’d track mud inside after you’d mopped the floors just yesterday, but you know he wasn’t thinking about it and you’d promised yourself just this morning that you were going to be nicer to him and now he’s sitting on the floor looking like his day is getting worse instead of better. 

You try again. 

“Um, I made dinner.” You step over him awkwardly, setting a hand on his head to help yourself. James doesn’t shrink from the touch, but he doesn’t lean into it like you could swear he used to either. The stove turns off like it’s relieved to do it, having idled for close to a half hour while you waited for James to get home. You wanted to try and eat together tonight; you used to do it all the time, but lately you’ve been having too many couch dinners by your lonesome. “Macaroni and cheese, is that alright?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You jolt a little at James’ hand on your back as he reaches around you for a bowl, and he looks at you, lips quirking like you’re funny. 

You find yourself smiling back by muscle memory, a reflex almost forgotten. It lifts your heart. 

“So, how was practice?” 

James glances up at you, then goes back to filling his bowl. “I’ve already told you,” he says. “Rough.” 

“Oh, right.” You huff out a little laugh. He passes you the spoon, and you take it without really looking at him. “Sorry.” 

His answering smile is weaker this time. More a press of his lips than anything. 

“Don’t be.” He kisses you on the cheek, then goes, pulling out his chair at the table. 

You take your seat, too. A lot of these base routines have begun to feel empty lately. They used to be an assurance for you, like if you always wore your same paths into the carpet you’d become so entrenched in this house, in James’ house, that neither he nor it could ever let you leave. You loved knowing that if he was back from his run when you woke up in the morning, there’d be a glass of orange juice waiting for you on the counter. That when the flowers on your kitchen table started to wilt you’d come home to a fresh bunch, and that if you called and told him you were having a bad day lunch from your favorite sandwich shop would miraculously show up at your work. Those things used to make your heart feel full to bursting, because they meant he was thinking of you. 

Now you’re not sure what they mean. They seem like things James does because he’s supposed to, like part of a script, a routine. Chores. 

As soon as he’s sat down, he’s digging into his dinner. James eats like a boy. Wolfing, like someone’s going to take it away from him. You hope it means he likes it. 

“What’d you do today, m’love?” he asks through a mouthful.

And see, he says things like that. Calls you his love, asks about your day. It’s all started to fall flat. You know he’ll take whatever answer you give him, because you’ve begun to suspect he doesn’t really care. 

“Nothing crazy,” you answer honestly. “Shayna’s baby came early, so I’m taking on a bit more at work until they can find someone to fill in for her. So that’s a bit stressful, but it’s not awful.” 

“Mm.” James nods, but doesn’t offer more than that. His mouth seems to be perpetually full. 

You fork a macaroni noodle, pretending you have more appetite than you do. Truthfully, you’ve felt weird and off and vaguely nauseous all day. 

Last night had been a bit of a breaking point for you. It came on rather suddenly. You’d gone to bed long after James, but you couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes from him, the way the moonlight snuck in through the slats in your blinds to fall across his sleeping face. He was so beautiful, and you loved him so much you didn’t know what to do with it all, and then you were crying. 

You’d wept silently, wishing James would wake up, but you were unwilling to rouse him and he wasn’t going to do it himself. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep with your pillowcase damp and cold under your cheek and woke to find James’ side of the bed empty as usual. Orange juice on the counter. 

“I was wondering if you might want to watch a film tonight,” you say lightly. “I saw they’ve put that sci-fi one you like back on Netflix.” 

“Ah, have they really?” James swallows, forks another bite. “Wish I could, but I’m supposed to meet everyone at Spoons in a few minutes here.” 

Oh. The realization hits you like a dull thud, smack in the center of your chest. He’s not eating quickly because he likes your food; it’s because he wants to leave. 

“Can’t you stay here?” Your voice is small. James looks at you like he’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” He offers you a smile. His fork clinks in the bottom of an empty bowl, and his chair screeches as it’s pushed back. James brushes his lips across your cheek as he goes by. “We’ll have to do it this weekend, though, definitely.” 

You know by now these sorts of promises aren’t meant to keep. They come written in disappearing ink.

He heads upstairs to change, and desperation grips you. It forgets he’ll be home later and puts you hot on his heels, your own dinner left on the table barely touched. 

“Jamie, wait.” He pauses with his shirt half off, looking over at you in the doorway of your bedroom. “Don’t you feel like we’ve not had much time together lately?” you ask. 

The plea is naked in your tone, and James’ eyes soften. He tugs his shirt off, straightens his glasses. “I haven’t had time for much of anything lately,” he says, shrugging good-naturedly. 

It’s true. He’s been busy. His new coach seems to think the team has nothing but time, and as captain James is expected to commit even more than most. When he’s not at training, he’s keeping fit on his own or running errands for his mum or sleeping it all off in your bed. 

“But you should come tonight,” James goes on brightly. “Dorcas and Marlene will be there, it’ll be fun.” 

He tosses his clothes in the laundry bin and makes his way over to the dresser. You cross your arms, then uncross them. Parse your words. “I don’t…I just feel like you hung out with your friends last night, you know?” 

“You could’ve come then, too,” he says, stepping into a pair of jeans. “They all love you, you know that.” 

“I don’t want to hang out with your friends.” It comes out sharper than you intend, though not less sharp than the look James gives you. He’s finished getting dressed but doesn’t make to leave. “That’s not what I mean. I like your friends, but it’s not…the same as spending time with you. It doesn’t count, for me.” Your voice softens on the last two words, knowing that for James, it might very well count. 

For him, you’ve gathered, social time is social time. So long as you’re there, he’ll feel just as connected to you as if you were curled up on the couch together having a private conversation. You wish your brain worked the same way, but it doesn’t. 

He’s looking at you with something like trepidation now, so you state it plainly. 

“I really miss you, Jamie.” A blockage rises in your throat. You swallow it back down. “I feel like…I don’t know what’s going on with us lately.” 

“We’re the same as we have been.” He looks confused, worse when your face pinches painfully. 

“And that’s all?” You try to blink them away, but tears burn in your eyes. “This is just what we do now?” 

“No.” James looks appalled, but you catch the quick glance he gives to the digital clock on his nightstand. “It’s only for now, just until the season’s over and Coach mellows out. Where’s this coming from?” 

You blink hard, angling your head away from him. “Nothing, sorry. I’m just being emotional.” Your breath scrapes on the way in. You pretend it doesn’t. “It’s okay if you have to go.” 

He shakes his head, and when you start back towards the stairs anyway, he says, “No, come on.” In a few long strides, he’s got your elbow. He tugs you gently back into the room. “Let’s sit down, okay? What’s going on?” 

“Sorry.” Your voice is pitchy and tight. You think you hear James inhale softly before he’s drawing you into a hug. It doesn’t feel quite like it used to, but it’s still warm, still nice. 

He sits you both down on the edge of your bed, arms still wrapped loosely around you. “What are you sorry for, baby?” 

“I was going to try not to make your life harder today,” you laugh wetly, pulling back from him to swipe under your eyes. 

“You don’t make my life harder,” James says, somewhere near to dismayed as he slides his hand to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t.” 

You give him a look meant to say, Oh, come on, but you’re not sure how it comes off with your face blotchy and snot starting to run from your nose. You take in a big breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“I think I’ve made it harder more than I’ve made it easier lately,” you admit, looking at your bedcover and also at nothing at all. “I didn’t even really realize until recently, but I’ve just felt so…disconnected from you lately. It’s like even when you’re here, I’m just around you and not with you, and—” Your voice catches, and you inhale again. “And I know you’re really busy, but I’m just trying to find ways to fix it.” 

James’ hand drops from your shoulder, into his lap, and you lift your gaze. He looks crestfallen. “What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly, his own voice starting to sound raw. “I can’t control these things. And we live together, I see you all the time. It doesn’t seem fair to ask me not to see my mates.” 

“I’m not asking you to do that.” You’re horrified. “But that’s just it, Jamie, it’s like we only live together anymore. Saying hi when you come in, waving when you go back out, those don’t count as quality time for me. And I wish I could get the same feelings from being in a big group that you do, but I can’t.” 

James looks at you helplessly. You shrug, just as powerless. 

“I know it’s not your fault,” you tell him, and a tear drips off your chin. “I don’t know what to do, either. I just want you to know that I’m trying, okay?” 

James nods for a minute. Thoughtful, heartbroken. He lets out a big breath. Your arms come around each other at almost the same time, so in sync you can’t be sure who reaches for the other first. You’re trying not to get snot on his fresh shirt, but he palms the back of your head, pressing your face to his shoulder. 

“Okay,” he says quietly. “You’re right, we should both be trying more. I think I’ve let myself get so overwhelmed that I’m not…almost not even thinking throughout the day, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this by yourself.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, and a little laugh rumbles through James’ chest. He hugs you tighter. 

“It is a little bit, though, isn’t it? I haven’t been paying attention. But okay, let’s make a plan for now.” His hand splays out between your shoulder blades, and you clutch at the material of his shirt, both of you wordlessly trying to get closer as if you can make up for lost time. “Come with me tonight, please.” You go still, but James goes on, “I know it’s not a solution, but I can’t back out and I’d really feel so much better if you were there. Please, angel. And tomorrow, we’ll stay in and watch something. Not a film only I like,” he gives your back a teasing little squeeze, “but something we can both get into. Or we can just talk, or play a game, I don’t care. Tomorrow is our night, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you sniff, nodding and pulling away slightly so you can wipe your face. James joins in, pinching your nose clean for you and wiping the snot on his jeans carelessly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try to clear my busy schedule.” 

He smiles. It’s like the sun beaming through clouds. “I’d appreciate that. Really hard to get ahold of you these days.” You let out a little laugh, and his grin spreads. “Good, so that’s for now, and at training on Friday I’m going to talk to Coach about cutting down on our hours.” 

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “Jamie, you don’t have to—” 

“I do,” he says. “I’ve been a wuss about it, but everyone on the team is miffed and it’s really my job to handle it. He doesn’t know everything yet, so I can at least give him some advice about how we operate best.” 

James palms the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and meeting you halfway. His forehead presses against yours. 

“I’m really glad you said something. Thanks for being the smart one, as usual.” Your smile is small at first, but James nudges his nose against yours until it blooms in full. “We’re gonna make it better, okay?” 

You swallow thickly. “Okay. Thanks, Jamie.” 

“Don’t thank me.” His voice takes on a tender quality, and you push your forehead into his. He palms your cheeks in response, stamping his lips to your forehead. “Love you, sweetheart.” 

“I love you, too.” 

That was never up for debate. 

[hees-mine]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, stepson, stepmom, dirty talk, taboo relationship, dry humping, unprotected sex, oral, cum eating, cursing, mommy kink-ish, no plot.

Genre: 18+, step relationship, taboo. Not proofread.

WC: 3,534k

⟱⟱⟱

A lie is what you’d be telling if you said you didn’t think about feeling your stepson again the moment your eyes opened in the morning, but you were quick to push those thoughts far back to the recesses of your mind, hoping that they would never come forth again.

Even though the night spent with him was nothing short of mind blowing you had to do your best to forget it cause you couldn’t do that with him again especially after the guilt you felt when your husband came to bed last night.

Guilt.

Now, that was something you and heeseung didn’t have in common. What you did have in common was that you both most certainly enjoyed last night.

Fuck does he remember last night? It was so good that it’d be hard to forget, and what would he have to feel guilty for after fucking every single last one of your precious little holes.

Speaking of, he can’t decide which one he likes more. All of them brought him immense pleasure, so much pleasure that at ten in the morning, he’s as hard as a brick just thinking of you, but he’d just have to feel each of them again before he could really decide.

You’d already sent your husband off for the day with his lunch, and now you were busy cooking breakfast for yourself and, obviously, your stepson.

Who was now standing at the end of the stairs greeting you in nothing but his pajamas, and the large print between his legs was hard to miss. You clenched your thighs at the sight of your pussy already missing him. “Morning, Mommy,” he chuckled tiredly, slithering into the kitchen, and before you can even calm yourself, he’s got his arms loosely wrapped around your waist, his cheek pressed to your shoulder, and his groin nestled right against you. “Hmm,” he moans from the contact on his sensitive leaky tip.

You gasp, the feeling of him shocking you back to your senses. The knife you were using to cut fruit falls on the counter, and you flatten your palms, bracing yourself against the kitchen island.

“What’s wrong?” He mumbles as you go stiff in his hold. “You’re not gonna greet your stepson?” He pushes forward, leaving you no space, and now you’re trapped between the counter and his body just like yesterday, and just like yesterday, you feel the restraint quickly leaving your body.

How could you have any restraint when his dick was so hard against you and so close to where you needed him most.

Last night you told yourself never again would you let your stepson fuck you, but that was last night when he was in his room far away from you. That was when he wasn’t standing behind you shirtless that’s when his dick wasn’t nuzzled right up against your ass.

“H-heeseung, stop,” you tell him feebly, your voice trembling, and you would never willingly admit that you were already leaking for him.

“You really want me to?” He sneaks his hands under your sleepwear, cupping your breasts and squeezing them with his large hands. “Tell me again, and I will” he rolls his hips tracing the crease of your perfect ass with his long dick. “Just want you to be sure, that’s all.”

You do your best to hold in your whimpers. If you were being honest, you really wanted him to slip your sleep shorts off and take you from behind right then and there in the kitchen, but for a split second, you had an ounce of rationality. “S-stop,” you said with a shaky breath. “Y-you should take a shower. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“No,” he whines in protest but quickly obeys. “Fine, I’ll do as you say, Mommy.” You feel the warmth leave your back as he creates enough distance between you two, and for the first time since you saw him today, you feel like you can actually breathe.

“Looks good,” he spanks your bottom, and the sound echoes in the quiet kitchen. He grabs an orange slice and holds it to his mouth, slurping the juices provocatively; the scene looked all too familiar to the way he ate you out last night. You glued your eyes on him while he stared at you, flicking his tongue on the center of the orange and then sucking on just like he did your clit. “Tastes good, too,” he smirks at your dazed expression, walking past you to the trash bin to throw the peel in the garbage, purposefully brushing himself against you on his way upstairs.

Once he left, you stood there for a good minute. You tried to grab your knife to resume making breakfast, but your hands were literally shaking with need, and the guilt you once felt was pushed to the back of your mind as you climbed upstairs in search of your one and only stepson.

You knocked on the door right in the middle of him getting undressed, and him being him, didn’t think twice before answering the door fully nude, his cock still very much hard. He was going to take care of his problem himself, but now you’re standing outside the door, and you definitely look like a better option than his right hand.

He smiled, happy to see you standing there and shamelessly looking at his dick.

Your eyes are glued onto the one thing you need inside you the most. Your brows furrow together at the sight of your thighs shaking and your hole clenching around nothing, dripping with sticky arousal.

“Did you need som-“You step forward into the bathroom and, without a thought, slam the door shut before dropping to your knees in front of him and taking his stiff shaft in your hand, gently pumping it up and down. “Oh shit,” he groans. Your actions caught him totally off guard. He had to brace himself with his right hand against the bathroom sink. “I guess so,” he smirked down at you and placed his hand on top of your head, smoothing over your hair.

You’re too ashamed to respond, so instead, you put your mouth to use elsewhere and lap at his sticky tip, tasting the salty precum that oozed from it.

A taste you had already become addicted to.

You hungrily take more than half of him in your mouth, sucking his cock desperately.

The little sounds you made when his tip hit the back of your throat made his cock twitch, and you loved the feeling of his heavy length resting on your tongue as you gagged and slobbered all over his shaft.

He must have really got you worked in the kitchen for you to be sucking him off so eagerly like this. It has barely been a few minutes, and he could feel the need to cum. “You suck it like you need it, baby” he tilts his head to the side, lips pursed, as he gently bucks his hips and helps you take him impossibly deep.

The sight of you both in his peripheral vision caught his attention, and he looked in the mirror watching from a different angle how you sucked him off. You looked so fucking good on your knees. “Yes, Mommy, just like that fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in that pretty little mouth already,” he breathes deeply, trying to hold off and enjoy the feeling of your wet mouth just a little longer. “Oh!” He lets out a strained moan when you cradle his balls. “Fuck it feels so good” he throws his head back, his hips moving on their own as he lightly fucks your throat, getting lost in the pleasure.

You take deep, calculated breaths through your nose, never taking a break no matter how tired your jaw gets. The feel of him in your mouth was far too rewarding to stop from a little jaw soreness, especially with the way his needy moans were filling up the space of the bathroom. “Fuck” he groans out, abs tensing and sweat beading on his body. “I’m cumming” he holds his hips, still throbbing on your tongue as he releases his warm semen on your tastebuds. “Ah fuck oh shit,” he moans as the white creamy liquid trickles down your throat.

You moan in pleasure, the taste of him making your clit throb even harder with need. Your cunt was sore. That’s just how engorged it was, and you needed him so bad his mouth, his fingers, his cock, anything would suffice with the insatiable urge that was flowing through your veins right now. “Taste good?” He grins while gripping your chin and tilting your head up. You look so gorgeous with your mouth full of his cock.

“Yes,” you moan when he pulls out of your mouth, your lips swollen from taking his thick cock deep in your throat.

His eyes nearly roll back in his head at just the thought of bringing you pleasure and tasting your pussy. Without another word, he quickly joins you on the tile of the bathroom floor. “Up.” he holds your waist, helping you up and sitting you on the sink. “That’s it, Mommy.” he grabs the waist of your shorts, hooking his fingers inside the waistband of your shorts and yanking them off your hips with minimal effort.

He smiles as you spread your legs wide open for him, and it’s no secret what either of you wants. He places his hands on your knees, keeping you open for him as he presses his face in your cunt, inhaling your scent. “Hmm, smells so good.” he licks his lips. Just your scent has him getting hard all over again.

“Hee,” Throwing your head back, you whine, one hand on the sink, the other in his hair. He moans shamelessly as you call his name, his tongue falling out of his mouth and tracing the path of your swollen folds to your clit.

You sigh in pleasure when you get some type of relief from all the built-up tension down there.

He sucks nips and licks all over your vulva, covering it in a mixture of his spit and your juices that seem never-ending no matter how many times he gulps it down, but he doesn’t care. He could drink you forever.

“So good.” You massaged his scalp, and he looked at you, enjoying all the faces you made, from the small lip bites to the heavy sighs and labored breaths.

He closes his eyes, really devouring you now, nose rubbing your little clit as his tongue sinks inside your hole.

“Oh yes!” Your head cranes backward, your thighs tensing when you feel a certain pressure building slowly in your abdomen.

He flicks his tongue in and out, deliberately nudging your clit with his pointed nose, causing your toes to curl.

“Yeah? That feels good?” He spits on your core, licking it up and shoving it in your hole. Before it can leak out, he stuffs his tongue back in. You fucking it in and out.

“So fucking good,” you praise, and his cock is definitely fully hard now.

He feels your walls tighten, and he’s just waiting for you to cum all around his tongue. His wait isn’t too long, and before you know it, you're creaming on his warm tongue, giving him all the satisfaction of making you orgasm.

“Shit,” Your legs dangle over his shoulders, shaking and trembling as your orgasm washes over you.

Your moans grow louder the more intense the pleasure becomes, and he works his tongue carefully, giving you the most of your high without overstimulating you.

Your breath is uneven, and the tension is releasing from your body now that you got what you were craving so desperately.

He kisses your inner thighs and kneads the soft flesh.

You cup his cheeks, wiping the arousal from his chin, staring at his eyes with something more behind them.

Looking up at you, he sees the blown-out look in your eyes telling him exactly what you need.

He stands up, his knees aching slightly, but he can’t even be bothered right now, too distracted by the intense pulsing of his needy cock.

His hands hold your hips, pulling you towards him, his tip resting on your mound. “Been thinking about this pussy all morning” he rolls his hips painting your core with sticky strings of precum. His eyelids drop so low they’re barely even open.

You whimper, the sensitivity of your high making you feel him much more intensely.

He bites his lip, thrusting on your clit as if he was inside you. “Woke up harder than ever.” he lets out an airy laugh as you stare at him, your brows creasing, and you nibble on your lip, just waiting to feel him inside of you. “Feels so good.” he gives you a lazy smile and bends forward, kissing your forehead. The kiss is much softer and sweeter than what you two are about to do, and somehow, that settles the beating of your heart and braces you for what’s about to come.

You lift your hands from the sink stroking his toned chest, your other grabbing the base of his thick cock, covering him in your wetness. “Ah,” he moans softly, feeling much more sensitive from your touch than his own. “Please put it in, Mommy.” he rests his forehead on yours, both of you watching as you guide him inside you.

Shaky breaths are exchanged as he slips in you with one smooth glide, your hole stretched and ready to swallow up all his inches.

“Look at the way you suck me in” A low hum settles in his chest as he meets you halfway, thrusting his whole length inside of you, knocking the air from your lungs with the pleasurable stretch. “Fuck y/n” his mouth falls open from the way your silky walls feel wrapped so tightly around him.

“Hee,” whining his name, you can’t help but look into his eyes just to see him staring back at you, both of your expressions riddled with pleasure.

He pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, both of your bodies shuddering from the sensation. His cock slid in and out in a steady motion, your arousals mixing together, creating the dirtiest sounds and staining your pussy lips with creamy white.

“Faster.” You fall back against the wall mirror, and he holds you in place, going faster and deeper, so deep you can feel it in your stomach.

Your breasts jiggle with each one of his thrusts, and he stares at them, your perked nipples peeking through your shirt, looking so mesmerizing to his eyes. “Fuck, your pussy is so fucking perfect” A chill runs up his spine every time his tip pushes past that little tight barrier on your opening, and he swears he sees stars. “It feels so fucking good.”

“Keep going” Your body shakes on the sink trusting him to hold you up, and he doesn’t even leave one doubt in your mind as his hold is firm on your waist, keeping you in place no matter how much you write and squirm on his dick. “Fuck yes, so good, so deep, mhhm” Your loud moans bounce off the walls, and your sounds entice him to go as hard as he possibly can.

“You like that, huh? You fucking want me so bad, don’t you?” You shake your head no despite you loving the way his inches fill you up. You know in your right mind you would never say yes to him. You were already committed to another man. You only wanted his dick, not him. “Is that so? Your cunt is saying otherwise, squeezing me so tight I can barely move” he digs his fingers into your skin, his hold on you growing harsher from the force he uses on your body. “Just look at you, spread open, taking it so good.”

“N-no,” you babble out despite rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“No? So why are you so wet, hmm? So tight,” he grunts, growing flushed with how much energy he exerts. “Fucking back on me like that.”

You grab onto his shoulders when it becomes too much for you, and he handles you with ease as your body goes limp, completely wrecked by his cock plugging in and out of you so fast and deep.

“See, Mommy? Knew you wanted it,” he smirks, going at an animalistic speed, his balls smacking your ass as his abdomen gets coated in a thin layer of your guy's mixed arousal.

“Oh heeseung!” You moan out loud, wrapping your arms around his neck as he plows you into oblivion.

“Yeah, say my name, Mommy, just like fucking that” he drags his hand down to play with your clit as you cling to him. You’re so so close.

“Yes, yes, yes fuck me,” you squeal out. You can’t help but say the words even though your mind is conflicted. You know it’s wrong to fuck your stepson, but you can’t stop cause it just feels way too good. You’ve never felt anyone like him before.

“Uh uh uh,” he grunts, giving you everything you need and so much more. “Cum on your stepson's dick, Mommy.”

His filthy words put you right on the edge, but you both stop immediately when you hear the front door shut downstairs. “Honey, I’m home early!” You hear your husband’s voice looking at heeseung with fear in your eyes, afraid of being caught, but he doesn’t seem to even care and begins to roll his hips, picking up the pace cause he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get you to come on his dick.

You shake your head back and forth. “N-no heeseung, what if he-” he cups your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“Shh, just let me make you feel good promise we won’t get caught” It was risky, and you knew it, but at this point, you needed to cum on his dick so bad that you’re not even sure if you’d stop if your husband walked right through that door and saw you getting absolutely pounded like a whore by his son.

He drops his hand from your mouth and kisses you to keep you quiet, his other one playing with your clit and winding up your orgasm again.

“Close,” you whimper, clenching around his cock repeatedly.

“I know I can feel you, baby. Keep squeezing on my cock. Keep going cum, and make a fucking mess on me. Mommy want it so bad,” he moans lowly into your mouth.

“Cum inside me,” you whisper to him in your lust-filled daze.

He whines into the kiss, obeying your command. “Yes, Mommy” With three more quick snaps of his hips, you come undone, moaning out loud, but he quickly muffles it with his mouth sloppily kissing you as he stills in your pussy. Those three words instantly made him shoot his thick, creamy load into your walls, filling you up to the absolute brim.

Moaning into each other's mouths, he stroked through your highs, so lost in pleasure and not the slightest bit worried about getting caught.

He leans back, smiling at your exhausted face, and slowly pulls out his load spilling from your pulsing hole and down your ass.

He bends down eagerly, licking it all up, cleaning every single last drop of your combined releases, and then pressing his lips to yours so you both can taste each other.

The taste is something that has you wanting more as you deepen the kiss and lick inside his mouth, not leaving one inch uncovered.

You both finally part for air, and he pats your thigh, grabbing some tissue to wipe you off with. He helps you stand and step back into your shorts while you adjust your shirt and run your fingers through your hair to make yourself presentable.

He peels the shower curtain back, smirking and getting in the shower like you told him to, and when you step out of the bathroom, your husband is standing right outside the door.

“Oh honey, I was looking for you,” he chuckles.

“Oh, I was just getting heeseung his towel. He left it in his room,” you quickly come up with a lie, trying your best to wipe the look of fear off your face with a nervous smile.

“Can’t that boy do anything on his own?” your husband sighs. “Well anyway, what’s for dinner? I’m hungry.”

You close the bathroom door and walk downstairs in front of your husband, discreetly rolling your eyes.

All he ever did was demand you make meals for him and talk down about his son which was admittedly very annoying he talks about his son not doing anything meanwhile all he does is work and laze about all day long waiting on you to do everything for him.

“I’m making your favorite.” You turn to him with a fake smile plastered on your face.

“Well, hurry up.”

You closed your eyes, releasing a deep, and maybe you didn’t feel that guilty after all for fucking his stepson more than just one time.

⟱⟱⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback🩵

[currently-reading-a-book]

Faux Love, Real Hearts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer must pose as a couple for a mission. However, one question remains: why does he keep calling you 'love'?

Genre: smut

Warning: talking about a criminal case, making out, fake dating (let me know if I forgot something)

Word Count: 882 words

A/N: As always, any criticism is very welcome. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language. 

Anyway, enjoy :)

✧ 🎀 -------------------------------------------------------------- 🎀 ✧

You blushed yesterday, you blushed today and you most definitely will blush tomorrow. You simply will never get used to his soft voice whispering: “Sorry, love.” 

 As he calmly brushes past you. You will never get used to his rough hands brushing against your skin from time to time. You will never get used to his soft backrubs or his light kisses against your forehead. Perhaps it’s better this way. If you’re used to his permanent presence your heart would break into two when this mission ends. When all of this ends. Every day you’re hoping that the mission is continued another day, just to be with him. And for a certain time, it did work; until it didn’t anymore.

For more than a year, you have been working in the Behavioral Unit (BAU) department of the FBI. As an aspiring Agent, you are willing to do anything to save people. The team welcomed you warmly, always helping you where they could since you were the youngest member. You feel safe because you know they will always have your back. Yet nothing could have prepared you for your latest mission. The mission where you and Spencer had to fake a romantic relationship. Spencer was a good boyfriend; a fake one sadly.

This unsub is targeting young couples, so the team decided you and Spencer would be the best ones to fit his victimology. Quickly you move into a fake house that isn’t yours; drive a fake car and act like a fake couple deeply in love with each other.

“Are you ready to go to bed, darling?”, shouted Spencer down from your shared bedroom.

It was a comfortable room with a carpeted floor and a large king-size bed. Oh, how you loved this bed; nevertheless, nothing compares to sleeping beside Spencer. Your sleep quality improving enormously. Maybe Spencer has to do with it...

Without answering you went up, already in your pyjamas ready to get a good night’s sleep in. Today you search through lots of recordings in hopes of finding a lead in the case; Spencer of course helping you, but how could anybody read faster than Reid himself? You collapse onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted. The slender nerdy boy, with his thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, is deeply engrossed in his book. Every now and then, he looks up from his reading, his bright eyes shining with a gentle smile that warms your heart.

“You must be absolutely tired, love.”

“God, yeah,” you laugh awkwardly. A strange silence surrounded them.

“Come here,” he opened his arms gesturing her to come closer. 

She found herself in a state of confusion, uncertain of what to do next. As she lay there, she couldn't help but feel drawn towards Reid's comforting presence. She knew that cuddling with him would be unprofessional, but his warm embrace felt like a safe haven that she longed to be in. The conflicting thoughts in her mind left her feeling torn and indecisive, so she stayed where she was.

Since she didn’t come closer, he decided to drew closer to her. His hot breath tickled her neck as he whispered against her ears sending shivers down her spine: "You know we have to act like a real couple, you want to catch this unsub, don’t you?”  

She gulped silently. Of course, she wanted to catch this motherfucker who’s been killing around D.C., however, all she could think right now was how close Spencer was and how his hot breath felt amazing against her neck. 

“Spencer…,” was the only thing she could whisper back.

His hands grip her waist lovingly, bringing her closer to him.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he murmured against her hair, kissing the top of her head softly.

Another gulp. Feeling hot all over her body, you tried to think a straight thought, but how can you think rationally when a hot FBI agent's body is nearly pressed against yours? Particularly Spencers hot body.

“Kiss me, Spencer.”

Without a second of hesitation, he crashed his lips against yours. Like a starved man, his kiss was impatient and rough, in contrast to the delicate touch of his hands all over your body. You could feel his warm big hands exploring every inch of your body. Oh, how good it felt.

“Fuck, I wanted to do this since day one,” he cursed against your lips before softly biting them. His tongue teased your lips, wanting to enter your mouth. Gently you open your lips and your and his tongue dance together. His soft lips moved their way down to your jaw, then your neck where they stayed for a bit, nibbling at your flesh. You reached for his curls, gripping them which he responded with a moan. 

“If I had to act like this stupid fake couple thing again I would absolutely, do it, just to taste your sweet lips, love.” He smiled against your neck.

“Wait,” you pushed him a bit away from you, “you don’t enjoy this fake dating?”

He took a deep breath. Panic started washing over you. Of course, he wouldn't like your back, what do you think? 

"No". His angelic voice brought you back from your negative thoughts: “I would like more if we were dating real.”

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

"You can't go around judging people on first impressions. That's how mistakes get made." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders

"The police investigate footprints and look for fingerprints. I take the results of these investigations and by piecing together all the available information logically, I am able to reach a conclusion. Those are my methods of deduction." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders

"The Killer had submitted the problem of a locked room murder and dared us to solve it. It was going to be a battle of wits. Perfect. Challenge accepted! If it was brains and logic and wit that were required, I was ready to do battle." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders

"In our world there are some things so dreadful, so terrifying that you would scarcely believe they existed. They are things that common sense and accepted practice would dictate are impossible, but they do exist. Out of reason... that's right. It's a mad state of affairs." - Yokomizo Seishi, Death on Gokumon Island

"Yet, while his unchanging gratitude and devotion to the priest's family were certainly commendable, Sahei failed to realize that everything - even gratitude - has a limit that should not be exceeded, and that his excessive gratitude toward the Nonomiya family would embroil his own kin in a series of bloody murders after his death." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse

"Thirty years can weave strange patterns in the tapestry of life." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse

"With the blind spot that had been hindering his thought process finally removed, everything had fallen into place for him with great speed. All day yesterday, he had been stacking building blocks of deductive reasoning in his mind, with the result that now he had reproduced the entire complex structure of the mystery." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse

"Were it not for the events that I am about to relate, doubtless my life would have continued in that impoverished, humdrum vein. But one day a spot of red was suddenly split on the grey of my life: I embarked on an adventure of dazzling mystery and stepped into a world of blood-chilling terror." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves

"Nothing is more frightening in this world than ignorance and stupidity." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves

"The events I am about to describe are filled with such darkness and sadness, are so cursed and hate-filled, that not a word I write can possibly offer the faintest glimmer of hope or relief. Even as the author, I cannot predict what the final sentence will be, but I fear that the relentless dread and darkness that precede it may end up overcoming the readers and crush their very spirits in its grasp." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders

"Everyone here is a bit twisted somehow. All they feel for each other is suspicion, resentment and fear. I couldn't tell you why that is. It's as if they're all just waiting for their chance to stick the knife in. As if they think that if they don't, then they'll be on the other end of the blade." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders

Yokomizo Seishi has also been added to the BSD-Bibliophile Online Library!

You can find more information about Yokomizo-sensei on the following pages: List of Books in English Quotes and Facts Collection Fun Facts Author Connections

[daycourtofficial]

Prophesize Me

Summary: Everyone finds out you and Azriel are mates before the two of you do.

Author’s note: I really love this concept, and I hope you guys do too!! 💕

“I would ask you how my niece is doing, however I have an inkling that she’s doing quite well, and will be better soon.”

Rhysand hated whenever Helion got like this. With all of Helion’s knowledge, occasionally he would like to speak in riddles. After receiving confused looks from Feyre and Rhys, Helion handed them a piece of paper, with the words,

“6 becomes 8,

Shadows dance in his wake,

Cobalt light, night skies,

Golden string ties”

Rhysand and Feyre look at each other, both looking incredibly confused, when Helion chirps in.

“My sister was loved by the Mother and the cauldron. When she had all 7 of her babes, the cauldron blessed each of them with a mate.”

Their eyes go wide, searching for you in the crowd of partygoers, and Feyre’s surprise makes her blurt out, “she has a mate?”

Helion chuckles. “Yes, she and her brothers all do. But none of them know who their mate is. Just that they have one somewhere. They were each blessed with a prophecy denoting the identity of their mate.”

He looks pointedly at the paper in Rhys’s hands.

“I started having suspicions when I visited you in Night a few weeks ago, so I went back and reviewed their prophecies and I think we can take an educated guess as to the subject of hers.”

All three of them look at you and Azriel, the two of you engrossed in conversation with one of your brothers.

“Six becomes eight. Azriel has two brothers, me and Cassian. She has six brothers already.” Rhys says, shock all over his face at knowing his brother, who deserves this so much, is going to get his mate. He’s almost vibrating with happiness.

“Do they know?” Feyre asks Helion.

“No,” Helion sighs, “The curse of the prophecy is that the subjects can’t know. If you talk to them about it, it’ll just sound like you’re speaking nonsense.”

“Could we tell Azriel?”

“My assumption would be if he were her mate, if you tried, it would just sound like nonsense. It could be a way to test the theory.”

Feyre and Rhysand couldn’t stop smiling at each other, speaking mind to mind.

“This is incredible. She’s wonderful, she’s adorable! We’ve known her for a while, we all like her, she’s already part of the family.”

“And we know her family! She’s related to Helion - whom we love dearly.”

“How the hell are we going to keep Azriel’s mate a secret from him?”

“How the hell are we going to keep Azriel’s mate a secret from Cassian?”

Cassian wasn’t a spymaster, but he always had a sixth sense when it came to knowing things about his friends. One look at Feyre and Rhys and he’ll know that they know something.

“Do you know what the golden string ties?” Helion asks, genuine curiosity on his face.

Feyre and Rhys look at each other, trying to recall a golden string. Feyre’s eyes go wide as she remembers, “I saw a box In her room a few days before solstice with a gold ribbon around it, but I never saw it in the pile of gifts.”

Rhys turns to her, “I saw Azriel carrying a tiny box with gold string around it a week ago. He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Rhys thinks for a moment, “and I don’t recall seeing them exchange gifts.”

Helion is interested in this - you confided in your uncle about most things, but your love life was not one of them. Helion loved gossip, but when it came to you, it wasn’t just fun gossip. It was your life.

“Solstice was just yesterday - if the prophecy is directly mentioning something that happened on Solstice, then if they are mates, the bond should snap any day now.”

The three of them continue watching you, Azriel, and one of your brothers converse, when Azriel says something that makes you and your brother howl with laughter.

“It can be hard knowing how things will turn out - prophecies are a deep interest of mine,” Helion says, watching you with a smile on his face, “it’s nice that this one will have a happy ending.”

-

Feyre and Rhysand kept the secret from Cassian for twelve hours, a brand new record for them. They were all standing in the kitchen of the house of wind, telling him what they knew. They weren’t too concerned with you and Azriel finding them because the two of you stayed behind in the day court for a few extra days.

When they told him, they honestly thought they had short-circuited him. He just kept going “her… and him… and her…” until eventually the biggest grin spread across his face and he lunged and pulled Feyre into a bone-crushing hug.

“I have to get the feelings out and she’s not here for me to do this to so I’m pretending you’re her!” He says, while spinning Feyre around while she giggles.

Once Cassian is done spinning, he sets Feyre down and looks at them and goes, “okay, so what do we do now? Any schemes?”

“Why are we scheming?” Feyre asks, a little wobbly from the spinning.

“Well we could lock them in a room together,” Rhys says, not answering his mate.

“We could send them on a dangerous mission together, and they’ll be so shaken by how close they come to death, BOOM, the bond snaps,” Cassian says animatedly.

Feyre looks at him, assessing him, “Cass, are you reading romance books?”

He stutters a little, “sometimes Nesta reads out loud so I can fall asleep more quickly.”

“Aww reading really is so boring to you it puts you to sleep,” Rhys coos, reaching over to pinch Cassian’s cheeks, “she reads you bedtime stories.”

“Anyway,” Cassian draws out, trying to draw attention back to the matter at hand, “what are we going to do about our little shadowsinger and our little princess of day?”

-

Cassian was asked to keep his mouth shut and tell no one. So naturally by the time the sun rose the next day, the entire inner circle knew, as did Cassian’s favorite barista and Rita.

“He’s going to be pissed you’re telling all of Velaris his private information, especially before he even knows it,” Rhys tells Cassian, in their war council like meeting.

“He won’t be pissed in the slightest - it’s going to snap any day and we won’t see them for months. Besides, he already struts around town with her, no one was going to be surprised at this,” Cassian says, and Feyre’s shocked his face doesn’t hurt from how hard he’s been smiling since he heard the news.

Cassian did have a point - tons of Velaris citizens had come up to Feyre to ask if the you and the spymaster were together, most feeling disappointed when she said no, none being brave enough to ask the shadowsinger himself.

Mor was buzzing with excitement, her guilt from leading Azriel on has dissipated since you entered their lives, but now even moreso that you’re his mate. She’s especially happy that that means you’ll likely become a more permanent resident in the night court. The inner circle adored you, but they were always afraid you’d eventually just go back to your home in the day court to be with your brothers and Helion.

“I mean, they’re still in day, so maybe the bond did snap, and we just won’t see them again until the spring!” Mor laughs, true excitement coming from her. “Is there a way to know about the bond long distance?”

“I like Cassian’s idea of sending them on a mission, send them to winter so they’ll have to snuggle for warmth,” Lucien, who happened to be one of your oldest friends, speaks up. Elain hits him on the chest, rolling her eyes at her mate.

“Oh oh oh,” Mor pipes in, “we get a male to hit on her, oooh that would really piss off Azriel.”

“He’s already going to be super territorial once the bond snaps, if that happens he genuinely might try to hide her away for years,” Rhys replies, knowing how territorial Azriel already was over you.

“What if we all just disappear for a few days? Leave the two of them here in the townhouse?” Elain says, and Lucien rubs her thigh.

The group considers it - most of them do have their own homes in the city, leaving you and Azriel mostly by yourselves in the townhouse, but the inner circle usually drops by throughout the day. Cassian alone probably comes by five times a day - even more when Nesta’s upset with him.

“None of us visit, and we can’t allow them to come visit us.” Feyre says.

“Just want to point out this was essentially the first idea I had of locking them in a room together,” Rhys grins.

The group continues arguing, with Elain’s idea being the frontrunner.

-

You and Azriel stayed in the day court for an extra night. You got incredibly drunk at the late solstice party with your family, and you also wanted to show Azriel around the day court palace.

You two spent most of the day in some of your favorite libraries - just the sight of one taking Azriel’s breath away. You two spent hours walking around the libraries, telling him about growing up here. You also showed him around the museums - noting to him one of the paintings that was donated by Feyre. You had joked that of course it featured Helion on his pegasus.

Now you were back in your private chambers, showing him your much less impressive personal library.

“Do you miss living here?” Azriel asks, the question on his mind since you all came to the party, after seeing how happy you were with your family.

“Mm, yes and no. I like spending a few weeks here out of the year, I love coming for holidays or just to visit, but it feels like a distant home, like I’m 9 years old,” you say, turning to face him, “I’ve traveled a good bit around Prythian, and honestly I never felt as at home as I do in Velaris.”

The confession hangs in the air. The unspoken words sitting on your tongue, not being brave enough to utter them - “I never felt at home until you.”

He can’t help the grin on his face as he says, “if I may, night court black suits you very well.”

Your cheeks flame as you reply, “it suits you very well, too.”

The two of you somehow closer than you were, only about a foot apart, when a knock shatters the moment. Azriel swears he hears a tiny groan from you as he steps away from you, looking over the shelves of your books, when one title catches his eye. As your attention is focused on the fae who came in to let you know that dinner is ready, he slips the book into his coat pocket.

-

The two of you had winnowed back to the townhouse, directly into your private chambers.

“Can I ask you about something?” Azriel looks at you, curiosity all over his face.

“Anything,” you reply, neither of you moving from the tight hold you had on each other while winnowing.

“Why do you own this?” As he says it, he pulls out a book that you received for Solstice from Amren, one you were especially trying to keep hidden, which is exactly why you brought it with you to leave in your library in the day court.

“Ilyrians: Pleasing a Partner with Wings?” He asks, reading the title. Your mouth is wide open, looking like a fish without water.

“There’s an inscription,” you reply, and Azriel can barely hear it. He’s a little concerned his teasing has gone too far, when he opens the inscription to find Amren’s handwriting.

“Sun Girl,

make a move on the shadowboy. Here’s a guide on how.

Lukewarm regards,

Amren”

Azriel was shocked that Amren would get involved in any of their love lives, much less yours. He didn’t even know if Amren liked you, as much as Amren can like anyone.

“Amren gave you a solstice gift?” Azriel asks. You nod, still hiding behind your hands in embarrassment.

“And she wants you to fuck me?”

You choke on air at his bluntness, “well - uh- I mean - yes but maybe like not in a casual way?”

He looks at you, taking in how clearly embarrassed you are at this gift, at his discovery of it.

“So not in a casual way?” He asks, loving how cute you are in this moment.

You look at your hands, you look around your room, for anything, really, when you say, “not um in a casual way, yes.”

“So you would fuck me in a non-casual way?” He asks, clearly enjoying watching you squirm through this conversation.

You pause, and Azriel’s again afraid he’s gone too far, when he hears you say, “yes.”

“Do you.. have feelings… for me?” He asks, none of his own feelings showing on his face.

You look up at him. Now or never, you think.

“Yes,” you say, looking him in the eye, “yes.”

He continues looking at you as he responds, “good.”

“Good,” you say, not sure what he means, but not wanting to ask.

“Good,” he says, and before you can say the same, he pulls your face into his. Kissing him was an experience for your entire body- you could feel his hands on your face, his body pressed against you, when you felt something in your chest go pop!

You stopped kissing him to look at him in shock, when he’s already smiling at you. “You know!” you shout, “you knew!”

He laughs at your reaction, taking a moment before telling you, “it snapped when we exchanged gifts. I uh needed a few days to process it.”

You nod, Azriel was not someone who took change well, and this was a big one. You can understand him taking a few days to tell you.

“Needed time to process it, but do you uh regret it?” You ask, trepidation coating your voice.

“Not at all. I just… never thought I’d have this. I didn’t want to start things off by saying or doing the wrong thing.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness, feeling the warmth of the bond in his chest.

-

Rhys was no fool - he knew you two were in day and could return at any minute, so he shielded the room so if either of you came you wouldn’t be able to hear the discussion. He didn’t account for the fact that maybe you were already upstairs, and if you walked by and saw all of your friends gathered not making a noise, it would terrify you.

Which is exactly what happened.

They all heard you scream and turn to see you in the open doorway, Azriel’s shirt hanging off your body. Rhys starts to pull the shield down, wanting to make a crack at you wearing his brother’s clothes, when they’re all hit by the smell. It was so incredibly strong, they all were practically suffocated by it. It smelled like the early morning, when the moon kisses the earth, allowing for night to meet the day.

It all happened so fast, your scream, the shield coming down, Azriel winnowing in a defensive position after hearing your scream from upstairs, all of your friends screaming at the scent of the bond.

Azriel’s in front of you, ready to defend you, only to find Cassian charging at the two of you. He engulfs both you and Azriel in a hug, picking you both up and spinning you. You, in Azriel’s shirt, and Azriel, in his undershorts.

“It’s been like six hours, I thought they wouldn’t know until at least tomorrow,” you muffle into Cassian’s chest at Azriel, who huffs in response.

After what feels like a lifetime of spinning, Cassian sets you down, and you have to brace yourself on your knees to keep from throwing up.

“What are you guys doing here? In a shielded room?” You ask, hands still on your knees, and no one wants to meet your gaze, until Amren speaks.

“They discovered your prophecy, girl.”

Azriel looks to you, confusion on his face. You had honestly forgotten all about the prophecy - you didn’t know the contents, so you didn’t ever let yourself think of it.

You turn to Azriel, “my brothers and I have prophecies about who our mates are, but we can’t hear our own prophecies until they’re fulfilled. I never knew what it stated, just that I had a mate somewhere.”

“And you all heard it?” Azriel asks, looking around the room like everyone was a threat. If the smell didn’t give the bond away, Azriel’s hyper focus on his family as threats certainly did.

“Well,” Cassian interjects, “Helion told Feyre and Rhys, who told the rest of us.”

Nests hits his arm, “they told Cassian and he told the rest of us, big blabbermouth.”

“We just found out last night, and we were meeting to see if there was anything we could do about helping it snap, but it seems like that was a bit pointless.”

You look at Azriel, everything is so new, you have no idea how he would feel about being a pawn in your prophecy, much less about his family knowing something so important with you two being the last ones to know.

The room is still loud, Mor and Cassian found wine bottles and are popping them open. Everyone’s celebrating, while Azriel leans down and whispers to you.

“So, the mother made you for me,” he quirks his mouth into a grin.

“Actually, I’m three days older than you, so I think the mother made you for me,” you retort.

“Oh no, however will I go on? Being made for such a thing of beauty and brains?” He asks. Then he pauses, insecurity taking hold of him for a moment, “are you disappointed? I mean surely growing up knowing you had a mate, you dreamt up imaginary males whisking you away. How do I compare?”

You really take a look at him, a rare moment of vulnerability from him, as you consider a reply. “The males always whisked me away, off to foreign lands.” You look ahead at the chaos of the sheer joy your shared family is experiencing at the news. “You have brought me home.”

You grab his hand, rubbing your thumb across the back of it, hoping that that answer was enough for now. You have centuries to show that the imaginary males are nothing to the real thing.