#she is incredibly gorgeous and her voice is so soothing. every day i get a little sad about skipping her but hopefully ill snag her on her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tswaney17 · 2 years

Text

Do It For Me - Love is a Bitch Part 2

Happy Solstice to my wonderful, incredible, amazing, mate, @nikethestatue! I am your Secret Santa for this year. 😘 I had a very specific idea for this part, and well, this is what came out. I know it's probably not what you expected for it, but I hope you still like it. 💕

This song is heavily influenced by the song "Do It For Me" by Rosenfeld.

Read Love is a Bitch part 1 here.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: language, NSFW, very cringe-worthy interruption, some verbal and physical alcoholism trauma

Word Count: 9,293

Azriel missed his girl. He missed her presence, her physical body, her incredible laugh—it wasn’t the same through the phone or on video chat. It had been three months since Elain left Vegas for home and he was aching for her. Not just sexually, but her closeness. He just missed everything about her.

Hence why he was sitting in a rental car outside of her flower shop in California.

He hadn’t told her he was coming, wanting to surprise her. Az didn’t mind sitting in her shop, watching her work until she got off. He just needed to be near her.

Climbing out of the car, he walked in, the little doorbell jingling to announce his entrance. A woman stood behind the counter, arranging a bouquet in a violet-colored glass vase. She was tall, and slender, with sleek black hair and a gorgeous, brown complexion.

Azriel recognized her as Cerridwen, one of the twins that worked with Elain and who were her closest friends. His tell-tell between the sisters was the blunt bangs Cerridwen had, whereas Nuala’s hair was all one length.

She smiled at him, setting the flowers in her hands on the countertop. “Hello, can I help you with something?”

He knew she was aware of him. Elain had previously told him she showed them his photo. Sliding his Ray Bans onto the top of his head, her gasp informed him that his assumptions were right.

Her dark eyes widened, glowing with devious intent. “Did she know you were coming?” she asked in a hushed voice.

Az shook his head. “No.”

A smirk lit up her face. “Would you like me to call her out here?”

“Please.”

“Elain! There’s a customer out here asking for you.”

“I’ll be right out,” Elain shouted, her voice carrying such a sweet tone that almost had his knees buckling.

But he remained standing as she appeared from the back, and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of him. “Azriel,” she breathed in surprise.

His smile softened as he looked her over. Fuck, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. “Hi, baby.”

And then she was running, ripping her smock over her head to drop on the floor, and launching herself into his arms.

Azriel had to brace himself as her small body collided with his, the force of it making him take a step back to absorb her momentum. One hand slid under her thigh and cupped her ass, the other around her trim waist so his palm could spread across her back.

Elain cried into his neck, legs and arms locking around him, clinging to him like a spider monkey. “You’re here,” she sobbed into his skin, tears turning the collar of his shirt damp.

He kissed her temple, hugging her even closer. “I’m here,” he whispered into her hair in soothing tones.

Her palms cupped his stubbled cheeks as she pressed her lips to his.

The kiss started out softly but quickly turned heated; hungrier. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, begging for entry and he groaned when she opened herself to him. He took his time tasting her, exploring every inch of her mouth. Three months it had been since he’d been able to kiss her. Three months too long in his opinion. Azriel decided then and there that he wanted to kiss Elain every goddamn minute of every goddamn day.

“I missed you,” she said, resting her brow against his.

Her breath ghosted on his lips and he wanted nothing more than to tip his head up and capture that sweet mouth once more. “I missed you more,” he told her instead.

Elain unwrapped her legs from around his waist and slid down his body, but she didn’t let him go, keeping her arm slung around his torso. “Cer, this is Azriel. Azriel, Cerridwen,” she introduced.

He stuck his hand out to shake hers. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Again, a smirk toyed on her lips. “Oh, the pleasure is all mine.”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink at her friend’s comments. “Cer,” she hissed, dutifully avoiding looking up at him.

“What?” her friend demanded, playing coy. “I was just being polite.”

She shook her head, obviously exasperated by her friend’s antics. “Nuala, come here please!” Elain called out.

Another set of footsteps sounded from the back and then the third of the trio stepped into the front of the shop. Her eyes glanced at Elain before sweeping down his entire form.

Azriel was used to being looked at, but when it was from his girlfriend’s friends, he fought the urge to fidget under their scrutiny. He wanted them to like him. Needed them to.

“Oh, hello there,” she purred.

He could see the similar qualities between the two women, how they both must’ve liked to tease Elain mercilessly.

His girlfriend sighed. “You two are a menace.”

Nuala cocked her head to the side, long hair sliding off her shoulder. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Ellie?”

“Not if you’re going to make some other snide remark.” The other woman made a crossing motion over her heart that had Elain, again, shaking her head. “Nuala, Azriel. Az, Nuala.”

His lips quirked up at the bland introduction but he gripped Nuala’s outstretched hand in his scarred one. “Lovely to meet you.”

“You as well,” she smiled. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, boy,” Elain muttered.

“Only good things, I hope,” he chuckled.

Nuala laughed in a slightly frightening way. “All impressive things, in fact.”

“For the love of god,” Elain groaned. She gripped his hand in hers and half dragged him to the office in the back, slamming the door shut when she heard her friends whispering about him. Elain fell back against the wooden door, muttering an apology. “I’m so sorry about them.”

Az laughed, brushing a rogue curl behind her ear. “El, don’t worry about it. I’m not oblivious enough to not know you talk to your friends about me, about us. And they’re clearly good friends of yours if they’re comfortable enough to give you shit like that. I’m happy you have them.”

She moved towards him then, engulfing herself in his embrace. “I can’t believe you’re here.” He stroked his thumb over the back of her neck. “Why are you here? Not that I don’t want you to be, I’m just—”

“Surprised?” he finished for her. When she nodded, he dropped a kiss onto her forehead. “I wanted to do something special and surprise you. I’ve missed you too much.”

Elain’s hands slipped up the back of his shirt, feeling the sculpted muscle. “I missed you, too.”

He brought their lips together, kissing her slowly, wanting to savor the moment. Even though they texted and talked on the phone every day, and video-called every other day, something was missing between them. That physical presence and he couldn’t wait another second without seeing her. Being able to feel and touch her.

Taste her like he was doing now. Fuck, she was so sweet.

Elain whimpered, melting further into him.

Those sounds, gods he missed those sounds too. Azriel took full advantage of the opportunity, pushing her back until he lifted her onto her desk and slotted himself between her thighs. His fingers angled her jaw so he could kiss her better, to deepen himself into her while his thumbs traced over her cheeks.

His head went dizzy from her scent, her taste. Just her in general. He needed to feel every inch of her. Be inside of her. Hold her as close as their bodies allow.

But, Elain pulled away, breath coming out in heavy pants. “You have no idea how much I want to continue, but I’m afraid somebody might hear us.”

“Let them,” he growled, leaning in to nip at her swollen lips.

Her airy laugh had his heart racing in his chest, the sweet sound as delicate as a flower’s petal. “Tempting,” she murmured, sneaking one more kiss. Elain bit her bottom lip, contemplating her next words. “How long are you here for?”

His knuckles brushed over her cheek as he focused on her face. “A week.” Truthfully, it would likely be more than that, but there was still a lot in play and he wanted to spend time with her first before he got into the nitty gritty details of his trip.

Those gorgeous brown eyes glowed like sunshine. “A whole week, really?”

It relieved him to hear the excitement in her tone, that she was pleased by his unexpected visit and the length of his stay. He kissed her nose, making it scrunch in that adorable way of hers. “Mhmm. I do need to know what hotels are located near you, though—”

“A hotel?” she asked, brows furrowing. “Why do you need a hotel? You’re staying with me.”

He laughed softly, stroking the delicate skin of her neck with his thumb. “I didn’t want to assume.”

Elain snorted. “You are my boyfriend. The only place you’re staying is in my bed.”

Now that sounded perfect to him. Azriel was just about to kiss her again when a knock sounded on the door.

She rolled her eyes at the interruption but allowed him to step back so she could slide off the desk. “Come in.”

Nuala peeked her head in slightly before opening the door fully. “Just wanted to make sure you two were decent.”

“For Christ’s sake.”

Her friend snickered. “Ellie, take the rest of the day off. And this weekend. We can handle things here.”

“What?” It was obvious Elain hadn’t expected that.

“I’m perfectly happy hanging out here till El’s done,” he interjected. “Or pitching in where I can.”

But she was having none of that. “Really? You flew all the way here to surprise her. The least we can do is let her have the time with you.” She leaned a hip on the doorway. “Besides, we’re not super busy at the moment, and if something does come up, Cer and I can handle it.” Those dark eyes focused in on his girlfriend. “Go home, El. Enjoy it.”

It was adoration shining in Elain’s eyes. He could see just how much the gesture meant to her. “Thank you, Nu. Both of you. This means a lot to me.”

Nuala waved her off. “We’re always here for you, babes. Now get out of here.”

Elain was quick to pack up her stuff, taking his hand in hers as she led him from the shop and back out onto the street. They both chose to ignore the wolf-whistles from the twins as they left.

Azriel unlocked his car, opening the passenger door for her. “Where to?” he asked her.

She raised a brow, a smirk playing at her lips. “You don’t want to take me to the privacy of my own home?”

Her underlying innuendo was obvious. “As much as I’d love to be buried deep inside you right now,” Elain’s cheeks went scarlet, “I can wait if you want to spend some time together first. Show me around and whatnot. But if that’s what you want to do, I’m definitely not arguing.”

Her twinkling laugh warmed him from the inside out. “Such a romantic.” She glanced down the street like she was contemplating his words. “I haven’t had lunch yet. Do want to eat first?”

“Would I like to take you on an actual date? Fuck yeah, I would.” They never had a chance to go on one before she left Vegas, and their “dates” now typically included some movie they were watching at the same time, different foods to be eaten together, or, more commonly, some sort of phone or video sex. It wasn’t practical, but they made it work.

Elain’s eyes sparkled. “Well, when you put it that way. I know this place that serves the best barbeque in the downtown area.” She held out her hand for his keys.

That had his brows flying into his hairline. “Oh, you’re driving, are you?”

She nodded. “Downtown is fucking mess and there’s a shit ton of one-way streets. It’d be easier for me to drive than to give you directions.”

His lips quirked up as he handed her the keys. “You know, there is this magical device called GPS.”

“Yes, but this means I get to drive the fancy car.”

At that, he laughed. The rental place upgraded him to a sports Audi. It was completely ostentatious but was sleek as fuck too. “You can drive a stick, right?”

Elain grinned, opening the door to the driver’s side. “I suppose we shall find out,” she said, winking at him before climbing inside.

It turned out that not only could El drive a stick, she was fucking sexy as hell doing it too. Azriel was sitting in the passenger seat desperately trying to not pop a boner at the sight of her small hand gripping the wheel, the other on the rounded stick shift as she easily maneuvered into the different gears.

She glanced at him a few times. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he grunted. Goddammit, if that wasn’t obvious enough. Az blew out a breath through his clenched teeth, his jaw feathering.

Elain hummed, fingers sliding over the stick like it was his dick. “You don’t sound fine.” After a few moments, she asked, “Is my driving really that bad?” Her voice had become incredibly small. Vulnerable-like.

“No, baby. No, that’s not it at all.”

She smoothly pulled into a parking spot and turned off the ignition. “Okay.” It was definitely not okay.

He hated the hurt in her voice, so before she could get out, he gripped her arm, forcing her to look over at him. “Elain, it wasn’t your driving. Not like that. I didn’t think about how fucking sexy you’d look driving a stick, sliding your hand over the gearshift like that. I’m trying really hard to not let it go straight to my pants.”

For a moment, she just stared at him, surprise lining her features. And then she tipped her head back and laughed. A joyous, full-bellied kind of laugh. “That got you all hot and bothered?”

“More than you even know,” he groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest.

She snickered behind her hand. “If we weren’t out in the open in broad daylight, I’d suck you dry just to help take the edge off.”

“That. Is. Not. Helping,” he growled.

Elain smirked, leaning across the center console to kiss his cheek. “Come on, horny boy. Let’s get some food first.”

Az grumbled about wanting a different kind of food as he climbed out of the car, and let her take his mangled while they strolled down the street. He tried to take in the sights and sounds, but the only thing he could focus on was how her fingers felt laced with his. The smooth skin of her palm against his. The way her hair caught the sun’s reflection, illuminating like golden rays of light. How her face lit up when they passed a father carrying his giggling daughter on his back.

She was…magnificent.

He had always known she was beautiful, but seeing her like this, in her natural element, in her city where she knew where everything was—it was like seeing a completely different side of her. A side he wanted to know more about.

Since it was a comfortable spring day, they sat at one of the outside picnic tables eating dirty tots and Mac and Cheese, barbeque brisket, and chicken. It was a ridiculous amount of food for the two of them, but Azriel found that he was hungrier than he thought, eating his way through their dishes.

Elain had laughed at his overly indulged face. “I should’ve warned you that you can easily overdose on this stuff.”

He ran a hand over his stomach. “Do you know the last time I’ve had a carb, Elain?”

A perfectly groomed brow raised in amusement. “Do exotic dancers not eat carbs, Az?”

“Not ones who want to perform and not hurl on the stage,” he laughed. “But it was when we had breakfast the morning after. The pancakes.”

“If dancers don’t eat carbs, why did you make pancakes?”

Azriel reached across the table to grip her fingers. “Because of you. Pancakes are comfort food and I wanted to make you something other than egg whites and spinach.”

She snorted. “Do you eat that every day? It sounds miserable.”

He shrugged. “Well, I can’t have what I prefer to eat.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

Her cheeks turned the most delicious shade of red, but she leaned her chin on her fist, a quirk playing on her lips. “So, are you too full for dessert then?”

“Not if it’s that dessert,” he purred. He saw the heat rush through her, in how she crossed her legs. Azriel knew just a few well-placed strokes of his hands would have her façade crumbling.

The pad of his index finger brushed over the sensitive skin of her inner wrist making her shudder in anticipation.

Elain swallowed, shifting her body. “Yeah?” she murmured. “And what would you do when we got to my place?”

Azriel leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Well, to start, I’d put on a song to set the mood—”

“One of the songs from your routines?”

He nodded. Az sent music to her, letting her listen to the songs he performed to. Sometimes sending her videos of him at rehearsals. “A new routine for it.” His fingers drug up her forearm, sending little goosebumps over her flesh. “And then I’d kiss you so thoroughly, you’d forget your own name, peeling you out of your clothes, one item at a time.” He paused, waiting for a couple to pass by their table without being overheard.

“Once I had you naked, I’d splay you out on your kitchen table and let myself feast on that pretty, pink pussy that I’ve missed so much.”

Elain sighed, writhing in her seat. “Would you make me come?” she whispered, cheeks and chest reddening from the question.

His mouth drew up into a smirk. “Oh, baby. You’ll be coming twice on my tongue before I even let my cock out from the confines of my jeans.”

The whimper she let out had his dick getting impossibly harder. It was definitely not appropriate, given their current position in public, but fuck, did he love watching her squirm.

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “And then only after I’ve had my fill of you, until you’re begging me for it, would I fuck you on the table until you’re screaming my name.”

It was exactly the words he needed to break her tether. Elain jumped up from her seat, tugging him out of his. “Take me home, Azriel,” she breathed onto his mouth in a heated kiss.

Oh, he planned to.

~~~~~~

Elain was practically panting by the time she pulled Az’s rental car into her driveway. He had gripped her thigh the entire way home, the warmth from his palm seeping through her jeans. She needed him—all of him. Needed to feel his body against hers. The muscles contract beneath her fingertips.

It seemed like he couldn’t wait to get into her house because as soon as the car was off, Az gripped her chin and pulled her in for a slow, sensual kiss. His tongue slid into her mouth, stroking against hers.

She hummed, eyes fluttering shut as he explored her mouth, tasting every inch of it. “We’re not in the house yet,” she breathed onto his lips.

His growl had a fire igniting in her blood.

They clambered out of the car, Az grabbing his duffle bag from the trunk and carrying it into her place. It wasn’t the largest space in the world, but it fit her and all her needs.

The front door opened into her living room and dining area. The black and white kitchen was offset by a small bar and two barstools. Down the small hallway led to her bedroom and attached bathroom, and a half bath just across. It was quaint.

Cozy even.

Elain loved that it was perfectly hers.

She gave him the tour, having him set his things down in her bedroom before they made their way back out to the living room. “Would you like something to drink?”

A scarred hand gripped hers, turning her around to face him. “It can wait. There’s something else I want right now.” And then he was on her again, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses over her jaw and down her throat.

Her skin heated from the lavished attention he gave her, fingers sliding into his dark mop of hair upon his head. “Where’s the song?” she teased, tipping her head back to give him better access to her neck.

His smile grazed her skin. Azriel pulled back just enough to slip his phone from his pocket. “Do you have a speaker to connect to?”

She froze as she looked down at his lock screen. Because that was her—or rather, her silhouette that she sent to him, on his phone’s display. “That’s me,” she deadpanned, glancing up at him. Elain had seen the TikTok trend, Silhouette Challenge, and decided to give Azriel his own little show from her. She took the video in a dress, sending him a message with it asking if he liked her new outfit. And then the music shifted and she put on a scrap of lace, posing in a sexy way with a red light behind her.

She channeled her inner exotic dancer for it, having to film it quite a few times before she did one worthy to send to him.

Az had taken a great deal of time in responding to the message after he read it.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I screenshotted that video. It was too fucking hot not to.” A blush grazed the high arches of his golden-brown cheeks.

A smile turned up the corner of her lips. “You liked it?”

“I loved it. I watch it a lot. It’s saved to my phone.”

At that, she laughed, tipping her head back. “Well, I’m glad. I was nervous sending it.”

His fingers danced over her cheek. “You shouldn’t have been. I thoroughly enjoyed it.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips to her face, his warm breath making her dizzy with need. “So, the speaker?”

A bit dazed, Elain showed him which Bluetooth connection to use. She may have gone out and purchased a new system a couple of months ago so she could listen to the songs he sent to her like he was performing for her. To feel the beat under her feet, throughout her body.

The music began to play, the heavy bass coming through and zapping at her skin.

Show me how. Show me how you like it done.

Tossing his phone onto her couch, he shot her a heated look that had her toes curling in her shoes.

Take off your clothes. Give me your trust. Look me in the eyes and confess your lust. Get on your knees. Beg me to stop. I promise I'll love you if you do it. So do it for me.

The music swept over her, carrying her into a world of pleasure and fantasy. “Are you going to kiss me now?” she murmured, voice husky with need and desire. An ache had grown between her legs that was demanding her attention—or his attention rather.

“El, baby. I don’t plan to ever stop kissing you.” And then he was on her, dominating her lips with his, his tongue finding purchase inside of her mouth.

It was a deep, claiming type of kiss. One that made her knees weak and left her breathless. Her head spun as his fingers worked on the buttons of her long-sleeve shirt.

He didn’t stop. Not when he stripped her out of her top, and then deftly unhooked her bra and tossed it behind him. Bare from the waist up, his mouth latched onto her breast, sucking a nipple deep between his lips.

Elain’s back arched as she moaned quietly, the pull from his mouth eliciting a delicious tug between her thighs. She felt herself growing wet. Gripping his shirt, she ripped it over his head, hands sliding on the beautiful, golden-brown skin it revealed. Every cut line of him, every chiseled muscle on display. His body was glorious.

Give me your hand. I'll show you things you've never done. Hold my head. I'll make you feel like never before.

Azriel lifted her into his arms by the backs of her thighs, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the table and laid her on the cool surface.

She gasped at the contact, body bowing away from the startling cold top. But he was there, swallowing the sound right from her mouth. Her fingers skimmed over the strong muscles of his shoulders, over his pecs, and down his abdomen.

He groaned into her mouth when she cupped him through his jeans. Squeezing her waist once, he kissed his way down her torso, to unlace her shoes and tugged them off.

Azriel’s hand popped the button of her pants and soon, those also joined the rest of their clothes on the floor.

Elain was breathing heavily as she looked up at him, staring at the lace panties she wore, knowing he could see the dark spot that had formed. “Please, Az,” she begged, her sex aching for any sort of friction.

Say my name. All I wanna do is hear you scream in pain. Say my name. I promise I'll love you if you do it. So do it for me.

His smirk took on a mischievous hint to it, the lyrics mirroring her reactions almost to a T. “Begging already, my sweet?”

She used her legs, still wrapped around his hips, to tug him closer, pressing his hard cock into her. Elain moaned, raising her hips to rub herself against him.

He chuckled, dryly. “So needy.” Azriel stripped himself down to his boxers before leaning himself over her once more—the song starting again. He kissed her stomach, sucking a mark into the skin near her belly button. Like he did that first night together, Az gripped the hem of her underwear between his teeth, and slowly dragged it down her legs.

“Christ,” Elain groaned, eyes rolling into the back of her head. The cool air on her wetness had her trying to close her legs, but large, scarred hands grabbed her thighs, prying her legs further apart.

“Don’t hide from me.” It sounded like both a request and a demand. Azriel dipped his nose into the junction of her leg and hip, inhaling deeply. “Fuck,” he moaned. “I missed your scent almost as much as I missed your taste.”

The first swipe of his tongue had Elain crying out. Her body ached for him. Needed to be fed by him.

He groaned from the sweetness of her cunt, tongue dragging up from her entrance to flick her clit.

Gods, she was so wet already, her body responding to him in a way not even she could produce. She throbbed, the draw from his mouth nearly too much to handle. Elain slid her hands into his hair, tugging the strands hard to pull him closer to her pussy. “Eat, Az,” she commanded, voice wavering from the pleasure he wasn’t quite giving to her yet.

But those words seemed to snap whatever tether he had on himself because Azriel unleashed himself on her. He sucked her clit between his teeth, grazing it with just a bit of pain to mix in her pleasure, before sliding down to plunge it inside of her.

Elain threw her head back, moaning loud enough that she should be concerned her neighbors would hear her—but, frankly, she didn’t care. Not when he ate her like this. Her lips parted, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he licked and sucked at her pussy. It was divine.

It was mind-blowing.

It was everything she missed and so much more. “Fuck, Az…” Her fingers tightened on those soft, midnight locks as she built up, up, up to that wonderous edge.

So close, she was so damn close. The sounds of his mouth against her filled the room, her heavenly moans of pleasure echoed in her small house. Loud enough that neither of them heard the front door unlock or open.

“Jesus fuck,” came a distinctly male voice that only could belong to one man.

No. Oh gods, no.

Her eyes snapped open and she tipped her neck back to look at the door, Azriel’s head pulling off her cunt to also determine who was intruding on them at her place.

“Dad!” Elain yelped, shoving off the table and almost crashing into Azriel in her haste to hide her naked body. She booked it for her room, her boyfriend a half step behind her, and slammed her door shut, horror churning in her gut. “Oh gods, no. No, no, no,” she chanted, pacing her room, still nude. Her hands gripped her hair, anxiety rolling in her gut and making her sick to her stomach.

She was going to throw up.

Azriel reached for her shoulders, halting her movements. “El, hey. It’s okay.”

She shook her head, desperately trying to not cry. He pulled her into his chest, tucking her face into his warm skin. “No, it’s not,” she barely managed to get out before he pounded on her door.

“Elain Violet Arch’r-ron. Get y’ur fucking ass out’re, now.” The slur of his words told her he was already two sheets in.

Fuck, this could not be happening.

Azriel looked down at her in surprise at the hostility of her dad’s voice, the question obvious in his eyes. This was not how she wanted to tell her boyfriend that her dad was a grade-A drunk and she was the only child that still spoke to him.

She sighed heavily, trying to quell her upset stomach, and pulled out of his embrace, rummaging in her drawers for a proper outfit.

He followed her lead, grabbing clothing from his duffle bag, and giving her the time to speak. Azriel could read her well enough to know that she was holding something back.

“I need you to stay in here while I go handle this,” she told him, pulling on her t-shirt.

That had him whirling around, bare-chested still. “You think I’m going to let you face this alone?”

Elain shook her head, taking a breath to try and come to words with how she needed to explain this to him and why she needed to go out first.

Her dad pounded on the door again. “Elain!”

“I’m coming!” she called back, voice harder than she’d ever spoken to him before. Facing her boyfriend, she told him, “My dad is an…” Elain paused, determining what best way to say it, “aggressive drunk.” Azriel’s eyes widened but he didn’t interrupt. “I can tell he’s had a few already and it would be better for me to go out there first to try and calm him down.”

Hazel eyes roved over her face, giving him the time to think of a rebuttal, because of course he would. Finally, he settled on, “If that’s the case, El, then I’m not comfortable leaving you in his presence alone. We weren’t doing anything wrong. You are an adult woman and we were in the privacy of your home. He barged in without so much as a knock. He has no reason to be angry.”

She waved an indifferent hand. “It doesn’t matter. He’ll still be angry. Please, just let me go out there to try and calm him down before you come out. Please, Azriel.” Her tone took a bit of pleading note to it, and she saw his hesitancy crumble beneath it.

Az sighed heavily, shrugging his shirt over his head. “Fine, but if he gets physical with you, I’m coming out.” His voice brooked no room for argument.

Elain tucked herself into his chest, squeezing him. “He won’t. He’s never been physical, only verbal. I was the only one who could talk him down. It’s why my sisters never visit him.” She kissed the center of his chest. “Thank you,” she breathed before slipping out the door and shutting it quietly behind her.

Her father was leaning against the wall across from her room, waiting. His arms were crossed over his chest and the scowl etched onto his face had her stomach tightening in knots.

Noticing her absent partner, he scoffed. “Is he hidin’ from me?” he commented unkindly, pushing off the wall and swaying a bit.

Elain’s anger boiled to the surface at the accusation, but she let it simmer. “No, I asked him to wait to come out until we talked first.” Without providing further elaboration, she spun on her heel and made her way to the living room, turning off the speaker that was still playing Az’s sensual song and picking up scattered clothing from the floor.

“Who is he?” he demanded, hiccupping.

She ignored the tone. “His name is Azriel.”

“Where’d you meet ‘em?”

Elain shoved their scattered clothes into a ball behind one of her plants, out of prying, judgemental eyes. “We met in Vegas. When I went for Feyre’s birthday, remember?”

The name of his other daughter made his eye twitch, his nose crinkling up in disdain. But she watched the dots connect of how they could’ve possibly met at a twenty-one-year-old’s birthday trip to Vegas. “For fu—fuck’s sake, Elain. Don’t tell me he’s one’er those strippers.”

She took a steadying breath, needing a second to calm herself from the utter malice in his voice. “It doesn’t matter where we met. What matters is that he’s my boyfriend and he genuinely cares for me.”

Her father groaned in misery. “You’r gonna catch a—a disease from ‘em, Elain,” he hiccupped again.

A single brow raised, nostrils flaring in fury. “Excuse me? How dare you say something so awful!”

“What’er ‘bout Graysen?” he snarled.

The sound of her ex-boyfriend’s name on his lips made her flinch. “Graysen and I have been broken up for over two years, dad. It’s time you moved on.” She couldn’t help the sharpness of her tone. How dare he bring him up. After everything he did to her, the way he treated her!

“I pulled strings to get you’r together. And you jus’—jus’ up and left him!”

“You were his father’s best friend!” she screamed. “You two pushed us together and he treated me like crap—”

“Still better than the trash hiding behind y’ur door,” he spat.

Elain knew Azriel could hear every word. Hear every vile, disgusting word her father spoke. The trash comment… Her chest went cold at the thought of Az dumping her because of what he said. How he treated him. “You need to leave,” Elain said coldly.

Her father’s brows raised at the frozenness of her tone. “I’m not gonna let you throw y’ur life away on…’em,” he sneered, stumbling a step when he swayed heavily to the side.

“You don’t get to dictate my life. I’m a grown woman—”

His hand shot out and grabbed her forearm in a tight grip. “Y’ur my daughter!” he shouted.

Elain tried to pull her arm away, but his grip hardened, fingers digging into her skin until she knew there would be bruises. “Ow, dad. You’re hurting me, let go.”

Seeming to ignore her attempted pleas, “You’ll do as I—I say.”

For the first time in her life, Elain looked up at her father’s face, saw his wrath, his alcoholism, and feared for her safety. This was beyond anything she’d ever experienced with him. “You’re hurting me, dad. Let go,” she said again, more timidly than before. Truth be told, she was scared. She was scared of him. She was scared of him fighting with Azriel. He’d gotten into a bar fight before and she used nearly all of her life savings to bail him out.

She regretted it now.

The bedroom door swung open after the second plea from her, and there stood Azriel, a menacing look on his face. He glanced at her, registered the terror she couldn’t hide from him even if she tried, and then turned his attention onto her father. “Let her go. Now.” The deep baritone of his voice, the hint of a threat would have lesser men running.

But her dad was intoxicated enough to not sense the danger in his tone. He took a step towards the door, using his grip on her to tug her with him.

Elain whimpered—Azriel’s blazing eyes shot to her at the sound—and used her free hand to try and pry off his grip. “Dad, please,” she begged. The last thing she wanted was for this to end in a physical altercation, more so than it already had.

“This don’t concern you, boy. Why don’t you jus’ pack’er things and leave, hmm?”

Azriel took two steps, closing the distance between them. “I’m not going to ask you again. Remove your hand from her or I will forcibly do it for you.”

She saw the threat click through the fog holding her father hostage because he looked down at her and finally released her arm. Once free, Elain moved swiftly, finding comfort in Az’s arms as he gently pulled her away from him.

Tears were threatening to slide down her face but she choked them down, her throat aching from them.

The disgust on her father’s face as he watched Azriel touch her had her blood boiling.

“Look at ‘em, Elain! He’s ain’t even like us.”

She gaped at him.

“Jus’ like ev’ry otha low-life, once he knocks ya up, he gonna leave you. At leas’ Gray coulda support’d you.”

She lost it. Twisting in Az’s arms, she raged, “Support me? The only thing Graysen could support was his infidelity! And treating me like shit. The only thing he did consistently was put me down. Made me feel worthless. And that’s what you want me to go back to?” her voice edged higher and higher as she seethed. “Azriel cares for me. He’s genuinely interested in what I do and who I am. He’s respectful and kind and wonderful, and I love him!”

The room went silent until she realized what she had said.

Elain gasped, covering her mouth as she turned to face a stunned Az. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered in horror. “I—I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

Amber-colored eyes flicked between her own with such wonder, such awe, she could feel the tether between them form like it was an unbreakable bond. But Azriel simply cupped her face, thumbs lightly brushing over her cheeks. “You love me?” He said it so softly like he almost didn’t believe it.

There wasn’t a doubt in her mind as she breathed, “Yes. Yes, Azriel—I love you.”

His face morphed into something she’d never seen before. It was vulnerable and beautiful, and she wanted to see it over and over again for the rest of her life. “I love you too, Elain.” His mouth descended upon hers, kissing her with sweet reverence, but not in a way she knew he wanted to, not with an audience that didn’t approve of him.

They didn’t let his scoffing interrupt them, enjoying just a few more precious seconds of that kiss.

When she finally broke away, the brilliant smile that overtook Az’s face shattered and remade her soul. Elain knew then that he was the one for her. She twisted back around to face her father, sinking into Azriel’s embrace behind her. “Dad, you don’t have to like him. That’s fine. But you’re going to accept that I do; that I can choose for myself. And if you can’t then there’s,” she indicated with a nod of her head, “the door. Leave.”

Those dark eyes that matched her own, gave them a once-over before he grumbled something she chose not to hear and left, the front door slamming shut behind him.

Once alone, Elain returned her attention to Azriel. “I’m so sorry, Az. For having to listen to those awful words he spewed.” Tears lined her eyes as she spoke. “Please believe me when I say that I don’t agree with anything that he said.”

He cupped her face again in his large, warm palms. Let his thumbs swipe under her eyes to brush away her tears. “El, love. I know you.” He emphasized his point by bringing a single hand down to lie over her chest. “I know your heart, your soul. I know that you don’t have those same views as him. I would never hold his opinions against you.”

She threw herself into his hold, burying her face into his pec. “I love you,” she murmured into his chest.

Az’s hands slid down to the backs of her thighs as he easily lifted her into his arms and carried her to her bedroom. “Let me show you just how much I love you,” he told her, gently lying her down on her bed.

Shredding her clothes off, he resumed his post-lunch dessert between her thighs.

A few licks with his tongue had her body building back up at record speed. “Az,” she moaned, tugging his inky locks with her fingers. Fuck he gave amazing head.

Plunging two fingers into her wet pussy, she pulsed around him. “So desperate already,” he muttered, his stubbled chin and cheeks giving her a delicious friction between her thighs. His tongue flicked her clit, teasingly. “Would you like to come, love?”

The pet name had her body going warm, toes curling. “Please, Az,” Elain begged. “I want to come. I need to come.” Her voice was nothing more than a whine, but she didn’t care. Her body craved him. Craved every touch, every taste, and feeling of him.

He chuckled, giving her a few more licks before he sucked the sensitive bud between his lips hard until she shattered.

Elain screamed, her back arching off the bed as he rang every drop from her. Throwing an arm over her hips, he pinned her to the bed—pinned her to his mouth still sucking her clit. Her cries of pleasure echoed in the room as he coaxed her down from her high.

Azriel kissed up her body, pausing to bite little marks into her skin on his way up to her lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue, the sweetness that coated it drawing a deep whine from the back of her throat. Her legs opened, making room for him to settle into the cradle of her hips. Gripping his t-shirt, she ripped it over his head, throwing the offending garment across the room. Elain ran the pads of her fingers over his body, feeling the hard muscles under her palms. The rigorous workout routine he maintained kept him at peak performance and fuck, was he glorious naked.

Her darkened eyes, nearly swallowed by her pupils, glanced up at his face. “I missed you,” she murmured, not wanting to break the heated tension that had fallen over them.

His smile warmed her from the inside out. Az nudged his nose into hers affectionately, hips rolling and grinding into her. The hardness that pressed into her reminded her just how large he was. “I missed you too, El.”

Removing himself from her, Azriel stripped out of his clothes and collected a condom from his pack, rolling the rubber over his impressive length once he settled back on her bed.

Elain felt herself get wetter watching him prep himself, using the slick from her sex to coat his cock with a few strokes from his hand. But soon enough, he was back on top of her, rubbing himself between her thighs. She moaned his name, dragging his head down for a heated kiss.

He lined himself up with her entrance, the tip of his cock barely dipping in and out of her as he kissed down her jaw, working at the sensitive skin of her neck. “I think I may want to draw another orgasm from you just like this. My cock working your clit, rubbing you just the right way,” he murmured, rutting his hips into hers.

She growled, wrapping her legs around his waist and trying to pull him inside of her aching heat. “No more teasing.”

Az grinned into her throat. “What do you want, baby?”

“You. I need you.”

He kissed her cheek, dragging his lips up to her earlobe. “You have me. I’m right here.”

Another whine left her throat as she again tried to use the heels of her feet to push him where she desperately wanted him. But Az was too strong, keeping himself steady and barely teasing her.

“Tell me, El,” he told her, biting the lobe of her ear and sucking it into his mouth.

She groaned, feeling the sensation of that tug low in her belly. “Fuck me, Azriel. Please, I need your cock. I need to feel it—” her words were cut off as he finally sunk himself to the hilt, her body greedily taking every single inch. “Yesss!” Elain whined in a long, drawn-out syllable.

His breath ghosted over her neck, giving her a second to adjust to his size. When she yanked his hips in further, he set a brutal pace, snapping into hers.

Her bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, their heavy breaths. The scent of sex and sweat hung in the room like a layer of fog.

Azriel gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head, using his one hand to hold them there. His other moved to tilt her jaw up, allowing him to kiss her deeper, his tongue plunging into her mouth to stroke hers. To fuck into her mouth like his cock was doing to her. Scarred fingers slid further down her body, cupping her full globe of a breast before he pinched at her nipple, adding a twinge of pain with her pleasure.

Elain cried out, eyes scrunching closed.

But he was there to swallow the sounds, those deft fingertips tracing even further south until he touched her just there. “Fuck, you feel better than I remember,” he groaned, his cock sliding deeper and deeper until it stroked that spot inside of her.

“I thought about you,” she panted, looking up into his burning gaze. “When I touched myself, I pictured your hands, your cock.” Her arms ached, still pinned above her head. She wanted to feel him beneath her palms. To touch him, but his hold on her remained firm. “It was the only way I could get off without you.”

Her words unleashed some primal thing inside of him, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic. The fingers circling her clit became more pronounced, tighter. She felt her body pulse around his cock, edging into her orgasm.

“Come with me, Az,” she moaned, throwing her head back and exposing her throat to him.

His mouth attached to her neck at her pulse point, sucking hard enough she knew a purple bruise would blossom from his careful ministrations. The draw from his lips and teeth, the sliding of his cock over that spot inside her had her falling, falling, falling, into her pleasure.

“Azriel!” she called out, his name coming through in three, drawn-out syllables. Elain’s body arched into his as she drew him to his release, thrusting sloppily into her while he spilled into the condom. Her name an echo from his chest into her throat.

He released her hands and the skin of her neck from his teeth, collapsing on top of her.

Her fingers went straight to his hair, sliding through the thick, damp locks to scratch at his scalp, down his nape. Az panted against the junction of her shoulder, his hot breath causing gooseflesh to erupt over her skin.

They lay there in silence, catching their breath until Azriel began planting light kisses on her neck and collarbone. “Fuck, love. That was,” he breathed, pushing himself up to look down at her.

“Amazing,” she finished for him, a smile overtaking her features.

A similar one graced his face. “Better than amazing.”

“I hope you brought the extra large box of condoms because I have a feeling we’re going to go through a lot of them.”

Az laughed, kissing her cheek. “If that’s the case, I may have to make a quick trip to the store.” He ducked his head to press their brows together. “I’m going to pull out—take a breath for me.”

She did, wincing slightly as he withdrew from her.

He kissed her lips once, twice, three times before climbing off her. “Where are your towels?”

“Under the sink.”

Stooping to drop one more kiss, Az headed to her bathroom to clean up.

~~~~~

After wiping them both down, Azriel put on a pair of clean boxers and climbed back into bed, pulling a very pliable Elain on top of him. Currently, her bare pussy was pressed against his thigh, her legs straddling his and she had draped herself on his chest.

Her fingers were tracing over the black ink on his chest.

He’d be lying if he said the heat he could feel on his thigh, the way she reverently touched him tempted him to take her again, but he had to tell her his news first.

“I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” he murmured into her hair.

She propped her chin on the back of her hand, looking up at him with those doe eyes he loved so much. “Hmm? What about?”

He brushed an errant curl behind her ear. “The furniture business is moving forward. My brothers’ and I pitched a collection to one of the large stores in San Francisco, knowing it would do well in the higher-priced market. It was accepted.”

A lovely smile turned up her lips. “That’s wonderful, Az. I’m so happy for you guys.”

“We gave our resignations to Club Velaris last week.”

That had her brows shooting up into her hairline. “Wow, you did? The business has really taken off then. That’s fantastic!” She shot him a sly grin. “So, does that mean no more sexy dance videos?”

He tipped his head back, laughing. “Perhaps live versions will make up for it?” Az traced the apples of her cheeks with his fingertips. “Since our market is the city, we also decided to move the business there. Rhys and Cash are in San Francisco now securing the licensing, a warehouse, and a storefront for us to operate from.” Along with catching up with the other two Archeron sisters, though he knew she could probably guess as much.

Elain pushed herself up onto her forearms, surprise lining every inch of her face. “You’re moving to San Francisco?” He could see the hope in her brown eyes, how it would make them only about an hour and a half apart. Az just hoped that what he said next would warrant the same response.

“Well, no. They’re moving to San Francisco…” at her confused face, he added, “I was thinking about moving here. To be closer to you.”

She blinked, pushing herself up off him.

He would’ve been concerned by the distance had she not remained straddling his leg.

“You want to move here to be with me?” she asked carefully, voice small.

Azriel sat up, bringing their faces closer together. “Yes,” he told her earnestly. “I want to have a relationship with you that doesn’t require us to video call or text daily. I want to see you whenever I feel like it. I want to be able to hold you and take you on proper dates.”

“What about your brothers? The business,” she worried, biting down on her bottom lip.

He reached up to grip her chin, plucking the lip she’d trapped from between her teeth. “The city isn’t far from here. I can just drive in whenever Cassian needs an extra set of hands in the shop. But I mainly design, which I can do from anywhere. I’d like to do it here, where you’re at.”

Elain wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair there. “What if…” she started, looking a bit unsure of herself.

He ran his hands up her back in a soothing gesture, urging her to continue.

She swallowed, taking a breath. Her eyes cast down to their laps. “What if…you moved in with me?”

The question surprised him. Yes, they’d only been going out for three months, but Azriel didn’t have a single doubt in his mind that Elain was his person. His forever. Seeing the red hue running along her cheeks made him adore her even more. Hooking a finger under her chin, he forced her gaze back to his. “You want me to move in with you?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip, and, fuck if he couldn’t help himself from rubbing his thumb after it. She nodded, as best as she could while he still held her chin. “I know it’s a big step, but if you’re moving here anyways…” she shrugged slightly.

It wasn’t exactly what he was hoping she’d say. “So, you want me to move in because I’m already moving here?”

Elain’s eyes widened as she realized what she had insinuated. “No! No, that’s not what I meant. I, ugh,” she sighed, frustrated with herself. “I’m asking if you want to move in with me because I want you to move in with me.” She resituated herself on his lap to straddle his hips.

Fuck, Elain naked was a sight for sore eyes. He would love nothing more than to go to bed with her curled up next to him each night. Wake up to her nude body every morning. She was gloriously bare, making him hard in his boxers again.

Trying to ignore the blood running south of his waistline, Az cupped her face in his palms. “El, love, I don’t want you to invite me to live with you unless you’re absolutely sure you want to do this.”

“I do,” she told him earnestly. “I want you to move in with me. If…if that’s what you want.” Again, he saw the nervousness in the question that was not a question.

His thumbs stroked across the high arches of her cheeks. “I would love to move in with you, Elain.” Az brought her mouth to his, kissing her softly. She melted into him, pulling herself closer into his chest. “I love you, El.”

“I love you too, Az,” she breathed, leaning in to kiss him again. “Oh my god. We’re going to live together!” Elain squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.

He laughed, wrapping his hands around her waist. “So, should we christen our new place?” he grinned.

Elain smirked. “Fuck yes.” And then she was on him, slinking her way off his lap and lowering her face to his covered cock. A few quick maneuvers had him stripped and was sucking his dick deep into her mouth.

His hand snaked into her hair, holding it in a tight grip at the back of her head. Fuck he loved this woman.

The two of them spent the rest of the evening, fucking in every room, on every surface, and celebrating what their future might bring.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

I’m not doing a tag list anymore because they’re really more trouble than their worth. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

111 notes · View notes

aria-ashryver · 8 months

Note

It's a totally random ask, I just checked the time and thought you're probably in the hospital rn, and then I realised it's been a while since you updated us on pretty nurses situation 💅🏼

(anyone cuter than Vidya perhaps? 👀)

🩺Aria's Top Ten Nurses 🏥

because sitting in the hospital for hours on end is boring so we make dumb little lists to pass the time which you absolutely do not have to read lol

(cw: theres a photo of an IV line in my arm under the cut)

#10 - Gary (vascular access technician)

ultimate gruff old dad. excellent banter. always tells me to keep out of trouble when he's done setting my lines. finger guns for days. he's only coming in 10th bc he tried to convince me to get a permanent line fitted and the concept of that terrifies me (hence why i have instead opted for over a hundred individual injections to date)

#9 - Cincy (chemo ward nurse)

incredibly soft spoken. shy to the point of painful. apologises for everything. she was there on the day of the pincushion tally high score, and even though my veins have recovered a lot since then, she always has a look of fear in her eyes when she goes to set my lines. I'm sorry Cincy, please stop being so scared of me.

#8 - Olivia (chemo ward nurse)

peak tsundere ice queen. super pretty. magically long black hair. has never smiled in her life. pretty sure she secretly enjoys inflicting pain on people, because she always sets the cannula in my cephalic vein (beneath the thumb on the side of the wrist) to "give my dorsal arch veins some time to recover" and HOLY FUCK THEY HURT. one time she laughed* at one of my jokes and it was the best day of my life.

*it was a begrudging huff of air through her nose and then she rolled her eyes, but it counts dammit.

#7 - Claire (clinic nurse)

tiny Irish lady. always got too much on her plate. why does she run everywhere. always makes me giggle when she does my obs and pre-checks bc my meds sound funny when you say them with an Irish accent. Claire please sit down for like 10 minutes, i beg, you're making me tired.

#6 - Kelly (chemo ward nurse)

only been my nurse once or twice, but i do remember that one time she laughed so hard at one of my jokes that she started choking and had to excuse herself, and the resultant ego boost has shot her up to place #6 on this list

#5 - Warren (vascular access technician)

OMFG Warren you pretty motherfucker. why are so many of these nurses in their late twenties/early thirties and ludicrously hot? this guy looked at me with his big brown eyes and soothing voice, held my hand while he applied some anaesthetic and told me "that's it, good, you're doing so well love". Warren how do you expect me not to fall in love with you??? that is EXACTLY how Vidya got me

#4 - Jax (chemo ward nurse)

i met them on their first day in the chemo ward. they were just supposed to be observing that day -- unfortunately what they observed was the pincushion tally high score. Sorry Jax.

(i.e. they witnessed Cincy and Farah puncturing the ever loving fuck out of my every available vein, failing to set line after line, apologising to me profusely over the course of like half an hour, and then the vascular access team coming in to rescue us all and set my line via ultrasound instead.)

that was a fun one lol.

#3 - Vidya (chemo ward nurse)

the one, the only, my actual wife!!!! 💖🌈 im half convinced she was the product of a fever dream, because one: how is this woman both fucking gorgeous and SO sweet and caring? and two: her shifts have changed and i barely see her these days. Come back Vidya i miss you 😭😭😭

#2 - Farah (chemo ward nurse)

another super pretty nurse! was delighted when i told her tumblr was still a thing. unironically says "slay" and "omg yass!". compliments my outfits without fail every time i go in for treatments. got extremely excited the first time she set a canula in one go after the pincushion tally high score debacle, and then told me "damn girl, you traumatised me that day" lol. Sorry Farah

#1 - Tori (chemo ward nurse)

Tori is my BRO. our banter game is excellent. (she's also super pretty lol). always tells me when there is good shit in the fridge. been my nurse so often that she just feels like a pal. sneaks into the admin office to make sure my appointments are at lunchtime or later (instead of like 8am) whenever she can. once told me it was her opinion as a medical professional that i should treat myself to bubble tea and ice cream.

Congrats Tori, you win the nurse rankings and my entire heart forever!! 💖💖💖

(but so does Vidya bc I am a fucking simp for that woman lbr)

#aria pincushion tally:#106 #tldr:#Vidya super hot #but Olivia Warren Farah and Tori are all really pretty too #i flirt with them for self care lol #also i am so touched that you remember when my treatments are 🥺#why are you the sweetest ever #this is the dumbest list i have ever made lmao

11 notes · View notes

theshelbyclan · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the chaos, little one

Summary: Giving birth is never easy, especially when it’s a Shelby x Solomons baby…

A/N I’m so slow with requests but a while back the lovely @fandom-puffrequested: Omg sorry to be a pain but I’m a sucker for Shelby chaos 😭😭😭 can I request something linked to A Very Shelby Christmas where the labour of baby Solomons is just as chaotic? But it could also be sweet like the bros finally accepting Alfie bc they all care about YN so much and can’t stand to hear her in pain, all while YN is screaming that she’ll cut off more of Alfie’s dick than his rabbi would even dare to if he ever tried to bed her again 😭😭😭 omg the chaos 👉👈 ily 💓💓 Here we go! This is part 2 to the story A Very Shelby Christmas

Words: 1638

***

“Not now, Y/N,” Arthur groaned. Ada rolled her eyes, remembering keenly when her brother had spoken those iconic words before. “It’s not like I can help it, Arthur,” you spit.

Polly grabbed you by your arm as you doubled over again, “Alright, sweetheart, it’s time. Come with me…” “Not yet, Aunt Pol,” you panted, “It’s too early.” “The baby doesn’t have it’s own pocket watch yet,” Ada commented matter-of-factly, as she took your other arm. “Fuck!” you called out again as another contraction set in, “Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck!” “Nice.” “Oh, piss off John, you want to try this?” “Not really…” “Tommy!” you turned to the one family member who hadn’t said a word yet, “Get him.” “And who would that be, eh?” he replied in a low voice. “Thomas…” Aunt Polly warned softly. He raised his eyebrows, “Finn? You want Finn at the birth?” “WHY WOULD I WANT MY FUCKING BABY BROTHER HERE?!” Tommy waved a vague hand, “General comfort?” Now Aunt Polly’s eyes flashed with anger, “Thomas! Go get her husband, right now!” Tommy sighed deeply, still trying to ignore the fact that his little sister was now Mrs. Solomons, and said, “Come on boys, let’s get them all together and wet this baby’s head! Leave the women to it.” And you groaned, “Thank you…” Once Alfie would be here, everything would be easier.

*** “Solomons!” “No need to shout, mate, I’m right here, ain’t I?”

Slowly Tommy lit a cigarette and started smoking it, “It concerns my sister.” “You mean the glorious creature that made me the luckiest man on earth by marrying me? My wife? Mrs. Alfie Solomons?” A small twinkle appeared in Alfie’s eyes as he saw Tommy’s jaw tense up just a little at his words. “Yes.” “How is the old lady doing?” Alfie asked conversationally. “In pain,” Tommy replied, “She’s in labour, more to the point.” “You fucking what?” “She’s with her aunt Alfie, she’ll be fine.” Alfie blinked a few times, “Tommy I swear to God if you’re playing some fucking game with me I will shoot you between the eyes right here and now. You’re telling me my wife is in labour and you’re standing there casually smoking a cigarette, waiting for some fucking woman to tell you it’s done?” “Yes,” he nodded, “Well, I was about to go the Garrison. Thought we might bury the hatchet and you could join us.” “Have you lost your fucking mind…” Alfie said slowly, while rubbing his chin. Tommy cleared is throat and with a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice said, “It’s tradition.” “Well, if you’ll pardon my French, fuck your fucking heathen traditions, I’m going to my fucking wife and you are fucking coming with me. And bring your fucking family while you’re at it!”

*** “Why are we here?” John leaned in to Arthur slightly while asking the question in a hushed voice. “Alfie insisted.” “Why?” Arthur raised his voice, “Ask Tommy, alright? I don’t bloody know! I’m guessing it’s another Jewish thing…” On the other side of the door, you were most definitely in labour now. The pain was worse than anything you’d experienced before and you were seriously questioning your sanity at this point. “Aunt Pol?” Ada asked carefully after about an hour. Polly moved over from your side down to your legs and said, “What is it?” “Something’s wrong.” “THOMAS!” Polly bellowed as soon as she had taken a look, “Get me some more towels.”

“What’s happening?” A panicked Alfie asked from the hallway. But Polly pushed him aside and started ordering Finn to boil more water. “Woman!” he demanded, “You fucking tell me.” “She’s bleeding,” she answered quickly, “and I can’t see why.” “What can we do, Pol,” Arthur asked, wild-eyed. “Get a doctor. One we can trust.” Arthur dragged John with him, even before Polly had finished her sentence. “What about Sabini’s men?” John asked, “We were supposed to deal with them tonight. What if they come here?” “Shoot them,” Tommy said simply, as he lit another cigarette in a nervous manner. Inside the room, you were now screaming your head off. Of course you had realised giving birth would be painful, but not like this. The sight of Ada going slightly pale didn’t help either and panic had started mixing in with the general anxiety of the process, so your screams got louder and louder. “Pol…” Ada called out again, “What do I do?” In that moment, Alfie pushed passed her and fell down by your side, “I’m here,” he said softly. “I can see that,” you panted between shouts, “but why? You’re not supposed to be here.” “Out,” Aunt Polly said strictly, “This is no place for men.” And then Tommy walked in as well, averting his eyes and grabbing your hand at the same time. “What?” he said when Polly send him a death-glare, “If Alfie gets to stay, so can I!” “Fucking children…” “Alright, sweetheart,” Polly focused on you again, “This baby needs to come now.” Your eyes grew wide, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Alfie replied for her, “You’ll be fine. You’re doing brilliant, babes.” “How the fuck would you know!” you shouted out. He shrugged, “Educated guess?” “Had a lot of experience with this, eh?” Tommy grumbled sarcastically. “This,” Ada pointed at the both of them, “This is why men shouldn’t be in here.” “I’m not fucking going anywhere, especially if my wife is in danger.” Tommy just shook his head in reply. “Danger?” you asked suddenly, “What does he mean in danger?” “No danger, love,” Ada soothed you, “if you just push.” And so you pushed, with every bit of strength you had in you. But then a gunshot sounded outside, followed rapidly by another two. Everyone looked up. “John,” Tommy clarified with a single word. “You’re being awfully cavalier about baby brother John getting shot there, Tommy…” Alfie commented. Tommy looked at Alfie with a frown that spoke volumes, “John just shot Sabini’s men. I told him to.” “Oh, good. Saves me the bloody trip.” “I can see some hair!” Ada called out suddenly. “What colour?” Alfie replied at once. And John stuck his head around the corner of the door, “Took care of them.” “We heard,” Aunt Polly grumbled. He hopped from one foot onto the other uncertainly, “Anything else I can do?” “Yeah, you can fuck off mate!” “Alright, I’ll stay, since you asked so nicely.” “John, just get the fuck out!” your sister shouted. The birth was chaos enough as it was and now all these boys were only adding to it instead of helping. And on top of it all, Finn stumbled in practically falling over his own feet with a bucket of water, splashing Aunt Polly in the process. This was more like a madhouse than a family occasion. But John pointed at Alfie indignantly, “He gets to stay!” “Push, Y/N,” Polly urged again, and so you did. “Nice one,” John laughed at Finn, “you literally had one job, mate.” “Mrs. Gray?” Alfie asked carefully, “Sorry to interrupt you there, alright, but I just wanted to quickly check, because you mentioned the hair, yeah? What colour? Because I’m sure I’ll love my son all the same if he’s blond, but I might just need to mentally prepare myself…” And then you finally burst out in anger, “Can you all just shut the fuck up for a second! I’m actually trying to have a fucking baby here!!” “Right, sorry about that love,” Alfie moved closer to you and grabbed your hand again, “Please continue. You’re doing brilliantly, even if he is blond…” Tommy chuckled lightly in the background, which made you even more angry somehow, “Alfie, I swear to God or Adonai or whatever you want to call him, do nottouch me again because remember how you said you couldn’t remember your circumcision?”

“Yes,” Alfie mumbled in mortal fear.

“You will remember when I do it. Remember how you told me of your rabbi doing it when boys are eight days old, because then it heals faster?”

“Yes...” he gulped.

“I’ll make it slow sweetheart. Really fucking slow.”

“Right,” he said with big eyes, “What exactly would you have me do then except for just standing here like some great big bloody useless piece of shit?”

“Shut up!”

“Noted.” *** You weren’t sure what had happened exactly in that last hour. Apparently you’d lost a lot of blood and things had gotten hazy very quickly. Ada and Aunt Polly had stopped talking altogether and they had managed to save you, despite the bickering men in the background. You did remember that Alfie and Arthur had gotten into a fight at one point, but apparently they managed to resolve it quickly when the doctor arrived and they took turns in beating him up because he was no longer needed. Anger really does bring people together.

Of course, none of that really mattered now, because you were now holding a perfect baby right there, in your arms. Finn just stared at the baby, completely in awe. “Not blond…” John sounded a little disappointed. Arthur grinned, “But bloody perfect.” “Gorgeous, just like the mother,” Polly hugged you carefully. “Shelby good looks.” Tommy nodded slowly, with a sense of pride in his voice. “Any names yet?” Ada asked, “I bet you’ve picked them out ages ago, haven’t you?” “I have,” you smiled, “but couldn’t say them out loud yet, so we didn’t really discuss it. It’s bad luck.”

Uncharacteristically, Alfie hadn’t said a word yet.

“Mr. Solomons?” you said, gazing up from your one love to the other, “I believe you have a daughter.” And finally he smiled, deeply and incredibly in love as he held her tight with both hands. And in the most tender way possible he looked at you, grinned and said, “Fucking hell!”

***

Masterlist

2K notes · View notes

mitsukui · 4 years

Text

late night experiences | g.w.

Pairing: George Weasley x female reader.

Summary: learning new things is always better when it is done with someone else.

Word Count: 2,7k.

Warnings: smut! Masturbation, mentions of innocence kink.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention ❤

Masterlist!

Your last year at Hogwarts rushed into your life without warning — and so did your sexual hormones. You swore to Merlin you could feel them tingling all over your body whenever you solely looked at George Weasley, your majestic boyfriend. And apparently, he felt the same way towards you. Wondering the reason behind it all, you were quick to blame the fact that the two of you had just turned 18.

You had been together for a little while now: around nine months or so. But nothing had ever happened, and you were not quite sure why. You two had, supposedly, everything needed: steamy make-out sessions, wandering hands, lustful thoughts, privacy, and all that jazz. Yet, there you were: ground zero.

However, things were about to change even though you still were unconscious about it.

“Psst!” Your favorite quill stopped scribbling your Herbology notes. “Oi!” Your eyes gazed at the direction from which came the voice only to realize it was one of your classmates, Angelina Johnson. “I’ve discovered something last night which I thought you might be interested in.” A mischievous smirk painted her lips as you leaned in closer, already feeling eager to listen to whatever she had to say. She was one of those people who made anyone pay attention to them whenever they said something.

Her hushed whispers filled the existing silence between you two in the Study Area once more. “The boys were talking in our common room last night, and rumor has it George can’t keep his hands off of his cock whenever he thinks of you.”

Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet giggled like little girls when she finally finished her speech. You could feel your cheeks getting embraced by a deep and violent warmness. Uh-oh.

Your mind suddenly produced images by itself: George’s chest going up and down quickly as he moaned under his breath. He had his long and slender fingers wrapped around his dick and, sweet Merlin, he was big. Big and thick and veiny. His eyelashes fluttered as his hand pumped up and down a few times, precum leaking from his tip.

Heaven probably looked like that. What a lovely sight. You would give anything to actually see the great George Weasley in such a position. But, again: ground zero.

Still, the possibility of him pleasuring himself at the thought of you seemed to awake something new inside your chest and offer you a novel tingling sensation. You felt a burning flame in your loins, and it was almost as if your entire body were on fire.

You wanted him to jerk off thinking of you. You wanted his hands to get dirty from his own seed because of you.

You gulped. Snapping fingers brought you back to reality. “Girl, it’s high time you gave that poor lad some love, you know.”

The next few days felt slow and eternal. George Weasley and George Weasley’s thick dick were the only things occupying your mind. Of course, you had fantasized about him before; but it had never been that vivid. Things are always better when they are real, after all.

And you wanted to do something about it. Your soul ached for him to share his hidden and erotic reality with you. Your flesh longed to be painfully close to his. Your body and your hands desired to tease him and give him something to be unbearably hard over. You obviously would not feel in peace until you got what you wanted.

That is why the suggestion of a late night meeting in the Prefect’s Bathroom came to life. It was discussed during another of your studying session with Angelina, Alicia and Katie, being first brought on by Angelina, of course. That girl had many wild cards up her sleeve.

“I happen to know the password. Got it from a Slytherin guy, after giving him a few galleons.”

“And a blowjob, too.” Alicia responded with her eyebrows raised and a mischievous grin hanging on her lips.

As the three other girls laughed carelessly, seeming to be extremely relaxed and confident to talk about such a topic, you chewed on your bottom lip. Jittery feelings bubbled up within your veins while concern clouded your mind. You had a severe lack of inexperience when it came down to anything sexual.

Your temporary anxiety was sharply noticed by Katie, who positioned her hand over yours in a comforting act. Her fingers soothed your skin, her next words slipping out of her lips as motherly advice.

“Don’t feel pressured to do anything, honestly. George is one of the most understanding people I have ever met. But I think a little bit of intimacy would work wonders on you, both of you.” Her grip on your hand became a bit tighter, and her warmth was incredibly pacifying. “You know, just suggest going to the Prefect’s Bathroom tomorrow night. He will surely accept, once he is heads over heels for you. Get in the warm, bubbly water. Kiss him, if you feel comfortable enough for that. And just see where it goes.”

Your other two friends nodded, assuring you everything was alright and that you could always count on them for support and advice. The conversation went on for a little longer, they sharing intimacy tips and encouraging you.

Luckily enough, the next morning was one that you had classes with George. You brought on the subject in the end of the lesson, while he gathered his material quietly.

His lips opened up in a bright smile in the moment you appeared in front of him, but his expression was soon destroyed by your visible tensed posture.

“Hey, gorgeous. Are you alright?”

You sighed shortly, trying to relieve some of your internalized insecurities. The suggestion came out of your lips in a mere murmur, but he was smart enough to grasp onto all of your words. His eyes noticed your dodging gaze and your fidgeting fingers, playing with the hem of your tie. You looked absolutely adorable to him.

“See you later tonight, then. Prefect’s Bathroom, 12AM sharp. I won’t be late.”

The rest of the day felt like an eternity. Perhaps, it was the uncertainty of it all, given that there was no way to predict how the scenario would take place later on. But the time for your meeting agonizingly came, and you were forced to leave your dormitory.

The weather was unpleasantly hot, and it was hard for you to tell whether it was due to the time of the year you were going through, or to the fact you were walking towards your own doom.

You had been curious and tempted to get to know his darker and more lustful façade but, at the same time, you were ashamed of how much you craved him despite being your first time feeling anything like that. Those same novel tingles from before returned to your loins as your made your way to the fifth floor.

Underneath your favorite carmine red pleated skirt and a muggle band T-shirt, you wore a set of lingerie that had not received much attention when previously picked out, which was a simple white bra paired with white panties, covered in tiny pink strawberries. When you were about to reach your destination, you came down to the realization of how childish your underwear looked. You inhaled sharply, concluding you had ruined everything.

Eventually, you and George met, and entered the bathroom hand in hand.

Although you had heard of its wonderful interiors, seeing everything with your own eyes for the first time made you gasp. Your gaze traveled through the place, and you wished to engrave every detail in your heart. The white marble grandness awoke a sense of greatness and admiration inside you, and you almost fell to your knees right then and there.

A tad of small talk was exchanged between you and your boyfriend, until he approached you at last. His big hands cupped your delicate face, and he leaned down to kiss you.

His lips were so terribly gentle that they sent butterflies to your stomach. He showed no shyness in the second his hands roamed down your body and found your back, giving your ass a light squeeze. Unable to control yourself, you moaned and pressed your body against his.

A steamy make out moment was held between the two of you until the moment for the truth hovered over your heads. He rested his forehead against yours, and looked at you with loving eyes as his thumb ran over your lips.

“Tell me why we are here, darling.”

“It’s just that…There had been this rumor, you know?” A shy chuckle escaped your lips, and you closed your eyes, trying to block out all the filthy images suddenly appearing in your mind. “People have been saying that you jerk off thinking about me. But I’m not sure if it’s true or not, because we have –“

“It is true.” The coolness in his voice caught you off guard, and you blinked at him in a mixture of shock and self-induced accomplishment: your boyfriend touched himself at the thought of you.

Your eyelashes fluttered until your eyes were shut, and a sigh escaped your lips. Your mind knew no restrains at that moment, and the images you had been blocking out came to life all at once, violently crashing against your insides, almost like agitated waves at a beach.

Silence embraced the two of you again, but neither of you felt bothered by it. You took your time to let the sinful images sink in, and he took his time to study your face. You had been clearly affected by the truth he had just spilled out, and he secretly enjoyed such thing. He could read you like the palm of his hand, and he knew you were thinking about him with his dick out.

As he breathed heavily, fearing air would forever leave his lungs after what he was about to do, he prepared himself for what was about to come. His thumb ran over your slightly swollen lips but, this time, he parted them with a gentle tug on your lower lip. George timidly shoved his thumb into your mouth, and you, with your eyes still closed, took all of it.

Your tongue swirl against his finger, the feeling of your saliva dancing against his skin sending electrical waves down his spine. You continued on sucking him until your cheeks finally hollowed, and he pulled his finger out with a low ‘pop’ noise.

You opened your eyes in a deep frustration, but he could no longer take it. His cock was hard inside his trousers and it battled for its freedom. He breathed unsteadily and with a bit of difficulty, his mind starting to wonder how your lips would feel wrapped around his tip.

The realization that you two had never done anything before hit him hard, and he felt himself twitching while precum started wetting the fabric of his underwear.

Would it be selfish of him to think he would probably be the first one ever to taste your cunt? The first one to penetrate you, the first one to end your innocence for eternity, the first one to feel your walls clenching around him, the first one to make you cum.

George was forced to step back and groan in bitterness. He really wanted to fuck you, but he would never disrespect you or your limits. Plus, on top of that, he really did not know how he could express his urges.

“S-Sorry, darling. I-I-I don’t know what’d gotten into me, I guess I just lo-“

“Can you show me how you touch yourself?”

The question hung on air for one or two moments. You could not believe what you had just said. You were drunk on a new dizzying and exciting sensation, one that left your panties secretly wet and your clit throbbing, and one which made you ask your boyfriend to masturbate right in front of you.

So he did it. Apparently, Katie was right: George Weasley would gladly accept anything you asked him.

After the enormous bathtub had been filled with water and bubbles, he undressed and you lost all of your senses for a bit.

His fair skin carried grand amounts of both freckles and small scars. His entire silhouette was outlined by groups of yet developing muscles, but each one of them caused more wetness to pool in your strawberries ridiculously covered panties. George was so tall, his shoulders were so broad, and his dick was indeed so big.

When all of his being finally became bare in front of you, you rubbed your thighs together, the need for friction creeping inside your body for the first time ever.

You stood still exactly where you were, but he made his way to the tub, sitting on the edge of the white porcelain. He lowered his dark eyes to his throbbing member and his touch caused a relieved sigh to leave his lips. His hand moved up and down a few times until he looked at you again.

There was something different on his face. His eyelids seemed to be a tad heavier, and the sounds slipping out of his slightly parted lips were the most delicious thing you had ever heard.

George Weasley was jerking off right in front of you. He was moaning only for you. And you hoped he would cum just for you, too.

As the minutes slowly went by the two of you, you watched him quietly. However, it was impossible for him to keep quiet. By now, his moans were loud and shameless. He whispered your name every now and then, the thought of you bouncing up and down his dick providing all the fuel he needed to orgasm only for you.

That was entirely new for you. You felt so dirty, so sinful, so misbehaved, but you were living for it. You wanted more of him, and you also wanted to give George more of you. And that was exactly the reason why you said your next sentence out loud.

“Can I touch myself?”

His ears convinced himself that he had heard it incorrectly, but the way your fingers tugged on your T-shirt, and your thighs rubbed together, he knew he was not mistaken. A new rush of pleasure ran through his veins and he pumped his hand faster. Unable to form coherent sentences, he mumbled something along the lines of ‘please’ and nodded vehemently.

In the blink of an eye, both of your bodies were unclothed and both of you played with your intimacies. George’s right hand applied all the pressure that could possibly resemble your tight cunt wrapped around his cock, and your fingers helped the squelching sounds coming from your wetness to echo in the bathroom. You had never thought that so many lustful sensations could occupy your body all at once and, yet, there you were: masturbating at the sight of your boyfriend doing the exact same.

By now, you also had problems breathing and the tight knot inside your body screamed for a break. You pulled your hand away from your dripping cunt, but you remained connect to your womanhood by a very thin and almost invisible string of your juices.

George obviously noticed that tiny detail and it was too much for him. He announced he was close and, soon enough, his skin was stained by the pleasure you had given him. His eyes were closed as he felt his heartbeat increasing and the images of you still haunting his mind.

The way he accepted and let his orgasm work on his body made you move your hand against your clit faster and you followed him in a matter of seconds. Your body trembled and you could not stop whining.

You had never experienced something so astonishingly sensational.

Your pants filled the bathroom for a little while before his body finally slipped into the still warm water. The comfort offered by the setting relaxed his existence and he weakly called and asked you to join him, which you happily agreed with.

He touched your hips and pulled you closer, placing your body against his chest. With his lips pressed against your temple, he whispered a series of ‘thank you’ and ‘you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen’.

However, his final words changed the mood completely and you hated him for it.

“That’s a nice pair of panties, by the way.”

Tag list! ❤️ @efyra @writingsomewrongs @kellsslut @pineapplesandpinas @fiction-is-the-new-reality @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @emmaev @asthmax @anchoeritic @eunoia-kth

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #🌼 — personal: writings

1K notes · View notes

brywrites · 3 years

Text

Washed Away

[Here's a little break from the Lock and Key angst!]

Requested by anon: a Spencer fic based off of this TikTok, in which a Reddit user describes how his girlfriend washed his hair for him in the shower, and how it made him feel so loved.

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader. Pure fluff.

...

Spencer Reid wakes slowly and immediately turns his head to check the space beside him. Oh, good. She’s still there, looking perfectly relaxed in the soft morning light. They are so new that the sight of her in his bed still makes him blush. It’s becoming a more common occurrence and he can’t help but wonder if the effect she has on him is ever going to wear off. Based on the evidence he has so far, he’s quite doubtful. He can’t help but smile seeing her, and he rolls over to put his arm around her and nuzzle into the crook of her neck.

She laughs, leaning into his touch. “Hey you,” she says.

“Hi,” he whispers, his voice raspy with sleep. “I missed you.”

“Darling, I’ve been right here this whole time.” Neither of them has moved since they fell asleep in a tangled mess of limbs.

He shrugs. “I still missed you.” But fortunately for him, missing her in his dreams is the extent of his longing this weekend. They have no new cases until Monday morning, giving him a much-needed few days off with her. Nowhere to go. No lives to save. He gets to just live, with her by his side. “Do you still wanna go to the Botanic Garden today?” he asks.

“Absolutely! Who knows when you’ll get another free weekend next? But first I need to shower.” She eases out of his arms and stands, stretching. “Can I steal one of your towels?”

Reid nods. Anything she wants is hers at this point. He’s never had someone to share his space with like this before, to share his life with. Someone who plans dates and gets excited to show him all the places she loves, who lets him take her to all the places he loves too. She opens the closet door and snags a clean towel before starting towards the bathroom.

“Wait, um – mind if I join you?” he asks. She turns to him with raised eyebrows and a bemused smirk. “N-not like that!” he quickly clarifies, cheeks red. “Just, well – the average shower uses about four gallons of water and given the urgency of climate change as well as the efficiency of saving time, I thought that–”

“Spencer, of course you can shower with me,” she laughs. “It’ll be good for me and for the polar bears.”

He hurries out of bed and follows her to the bathroom where they shimmy out of their pajamas and he turns on the water. Despite more frequent sleepovers and long weekends spent together, they rarely shower together. Between his erratic work schedule and general aversion to shower sex (“Two-thirds of emergency room visits are due to injuries caused in or near the bathtub. The slippery surface makes it incredibly dangerous and water actually increases friction instead of working as a lubricant.” “I’ll keep that in mind.”) the opportunities to do so had been rare. But as he steps over the edge of the tub into the stream of warm water, his body relaxes, letting go of the tension he’s become too accustomed to carrying over the last few years.

He extends his hand to her, always just a little nervous about her safety, and helps her in. With the water running over her body, her face slightly flushed from the steam, droplets hanging from her lashes, she looks so beautiful. And while he’d be more than content to stare at her all day long, he’s promised her a visit to the gardens. He reaches for the bottle of shampoo in the shower caddy, but she grabs his wrist.

“Wait,” she says. “Let me.” Reid is perplexed as she takes the bottle and squirts out a bit of shampoo before – to his surprise – running her own hands through his hair. With gentle fingers she massages his scalp, humming softly to herself. It’s like his brain has short-circuited with this simple action. He can’t seem to form a single coherent thought because it just feels so good. With a sigh, he closes his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation. Her touch is so soothing as she brushes her fingers through his hair.

When she stops, he opens his eyes to see her glancing around the shower. “No conditioner?” she asks. He shakes his head. His shower routine is quite… minimal. Two-in-one shampoo and a bottle of body wash. “Well, we’ll fix that later,” she says. “Those gorgeous curls of yours deserve a little extra love.” He’s still in too much shock to move as she rubs shampoo into her own hair before grabbing the body wash.

“Sandalwood and vetiver,” she reads from the label. “So this is why you always smell so good.” It was chosen at random based on what was on sale in the tiny town he’d been in for a case months ago, but he’s never been so grateful for a random choice before. She squeezes soap from the bottle and places a hand on his chest. “Is this okay?” she asks. He nods frantically, eager for her to continue. And so she does, lathering the suds over his body. Her hands are warm against his skin as she runs over every inch of him, taking her careful time. She rubs circles down his arms with her thumbs, traces invisible patterns across the soft skin of his stomach. She squeezes his hips softly before asking him to turn around. And what else can he do but oblige her?

She presses close to him and reaches up to massage his shoulders. He lets his eyes close once more, wanting to tune out every sensation that isn’t her as she melts away the tension in his muscles. It’s as though she can reach straight to his bones and heal everything that has ever hurt. Just when he thinks that this is as good as it gets, he feels her lips against his back. She places sweet, gentle kisses across his shoulder blades and wraps her arms around his waist. Her cheek rests against his back and it’s almost too much to be in her embrace in this warm water, with all of her attention focused on him.

It’s just so tender. This simple act of washing his hair, of lathering soap over his body. Of holding him close in the shower. It’s so gentle. He never asked for this, and she asks for nothing in return. It seems to be enough for her simply to care for him so gently. Reid finds himself fighting tears and can’t seem to explain why. It’s just so… comforting. And he’s been a stranger to comfort for most of his life.

Reid is used to being left alone and forgotten at best, bullied and bruised at worst. It’s still so unfamiliar to have someone touch him with reverence, to treat his body like something sacred and not something scarred. As though he is something beautiful. It’s as though his heart could burst right out of his chest, the love he feels for her too big to fit in his ribcage.

By the time she’s combing her fingers through his hair once more to rinse the shampoo out, he swears he’s floating. The combination of touch and warmth and intimacy makes the moment feel so incredibly surreal in the best of ways. How is it possible to feel so overwhelmed with love? Without even needing words, she says it so loudly. Nobody has ever done something like this for him. Nobody has ever paid such careful attention to him like this before. She tugs his wrist to spin him back around towards her before wrapping him in another hug. The water dissolves the shampoo and soap from her own body as it washes over them. Then she places her lips on his chest, kissing the spot just to the left of where his heart is rapidly beating. Her hands find their way up past his neck to brush his wet hair away from his eyes.

“There. That’s better,” she says with a grin. And oh, how it is. Still in a trance he stands there in the shower as she reaches past him to turn the faucet off and grabs the towel, stepping on to the fuzzy bathroom rug. When he follows after her, she wraps her towel around her body and then grabs his own from the rack, rubbing it over his hair and squeezing out the remaining water before draping it over his shoulders. It’s soft, but it doesn’t compare to her embrace.

She wraps her towel int her hair and he hastily wraps his around his waist, following as she walks back into the bedroom. This time, he reaches for her. His hand closes around her arm and he pulls her back against him. He holds her tight, resting his head against hers. One of her hands covers his, interlacing their fingers. “Is everything okay?” she asks.

“I just…” How can he ever put it into words? The way she washes away every doubt of his with such ease. How she’s becoming everything to him faster than he ever imagined. “Nobody has ever – nobody’s ever done something like that for me before. And I… well, I just…” Language is failing him. A million books in his head and not a single one can provide him with the vocabulary to articulate this feeling. So he simply holds her tighter, burying his face in her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she says softly. She turns her head to kiss his cheek. “I love you, too.”

#spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #fanfiction #imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #brywrites #washed away #spencer reid

346 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Present

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 4,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Voyeurism, Masturbation in shower, Sexting, Oral Sex, Dom/sub, Protected Sex, Established Aaron/Sophie Summary: Sophie sends Aaron a sexy video while he’s away on a case, Spencer watches it, and smut ensues. Collection: Part 1 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr because I was thinking about it today. 🤤 Link to A03 or read below! “I sprained my ankle. I’m not injured, not really. I can even walk on it,” Sophie assures as she pours them each a cup of coffee in the break room. She sets the carafe down, takes a step, wobbles, and Aaron catches her around the waist with a raised eyebrow of judgement. “Okay, so I can’t walk that well, but I can certainly sit in a conference room bouncing ideas around and drinking coffee. That’s all Rossi does, anyway.” He chuckles softly, knows she’s still… warming up, to Rossi and his idiosyncrasies.

“You know the rules.”

“Yeah, because we’re so good at following the rules,” she teases with a smirk, running her hands down his stomach, stopping at his belt. He looks over at the bullpen out of the corner of his eye, shoots her a warning look that makes her sigh and pull away.

“Think of it as choosing our battles,” he suggests, hoping that might get her back on track. “If you want to continue making out in my office, you have to stay here this one time.” She smiles, crooked, nods her head.

“Okay, when you put it that way, I’ll take the make outs.”

“I thought you might. Plus, you get to spend all day with Garcia. I figured that would be like a dream come true.”

“It is, definitely. It’s more the long, cold, nights that I’m worried about.” He sighs, because she’s being so dramatic, but he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of making him smile again. He can’t be looking as smitten and infatuated with her as he is all of the time. “I’m going to be so lonely.”

“Oh, I think you’ll manage without sex for a few nights,” he teases, and she looks scandalized, as if that wasn’t exactly what she was getting at.

“It’s not about sex, it’s about intimacy, comfort, sharing my bed with a big heavy man who scares away the bad dreams.” She grins lecherously and he prepares to roll his eyes. “And who has a dick that won't quit.”

“Like I said,” he enunciates, taking his travel mug of coffee for the road, “you’ll be fine for a few nights. If you do decide to touch yourself, though, make sure you send me a present,” he reminds her, because they aren’t separated often, but when they are, a couple of racy pictures or videos almost always exchange hands. He bends for a quick kiss on the lips, brushes her cheek. “I love you. Behave.”

“I love you,” she murmurs, all tenderness and no heat, now. “Be safe.” Two days after taking the case, the team is on the jet for a night flight home. Spencer is tired, but he can’t sleep; JJ is stretched out on the couch, Morgan and Emily are slumped over in their seats up front with pillows and headphones, and Rossi has been snoring softly since they took off, so it’s just him and Hotch awake. They are in seats next to each other, Spencer by the window, because he knew he would be a little restless, and that Hotch wouldn’t sleep, so it seemed like the safest bet if he didn't want to disturb anyone’s rest.

He also enjoys the comforting presence of the older man, always, but especially in the calm, quiet atmosphere of the flight home.

He tries to listen to music, a podcast, but he eventually pauses it and just rests his eyes, his head, listens to Hotch as he flips pages or taps away at his phone. He’s probably texting Sophie, who’s home with a sprained ankle and who hasn’t stopped grumbling about it since. He smiles at the thought, likes when she’s comfortable enough to complain to him. Likes being someone she turns to.

He sighs. Feelings are complicated. Sometimes he hates being part of such a tight-knit team because it makes the things he feels all the more confusing, especially when the two objects of his (totally manageable) affection are in a relationship together; he feels like the odd man out, as always, can’t deny that it hurts sometimes.

He’s drifting in and out of the not quite asleep stage when he hears sound coming from Hotch’s phone, shuffling, ambiguous noises. He lifts his eyelids just slightly to see a video up on the screen, a wall that looks vaguely familiar, like a bathroom, maybe. There’s nothing particularly intriguing about that, but then he sees a pair of smooth, bare legs standing inside a bathtub and his interest is… piqued.

There’s another sound, unmistakably a shower being turned on, and then the woman—it is Sophie, no doubt; even if he can’t see her face, the tattoo on her forearm is easily identifiable—squats down, and she is so gloriously naked that he just… freezes. His body and his mind are suspended in a conflicting state of this is wrong, I shouldn’t be seeing this, and this is the best thing I’ve ever seen, and why is Hotch watching this right now, with me right next to him, and hnnng.

She pulls the shower head into view, lets it pour over her hair from what he can see of it, then down her breasts, her stomach, arms and legs; after that, she adjusts it to a stream that is harder and more controlled than one would typically use in the shower. He wonders why, thinks it could be uncomfortable, until she moves it to hover over her pussy, moaning softly, and then he really, really gets it.

His heart is racing as she runs her hand over her body, thumbing at her nipples, sighing at her own touch. She rocks back and forth a little so the stream of water hits her clit, then lower, between her lips, against her opening, and Spencer swallows hard.

“Mmm,” she sighs, and the sound goes straight through him; he feels himself getting hard as she murmurs, pressing her hand against the rim of the tub for leverage. “Mmm, yeah.” He can see that Hotch is breathing heavily next to him, eyes fixed on the screen. It’s too dark in the cabin to see his lap, but he knows he must be aching in his pants, too, wonders what it would be like if he reached out and touched him there.

Sophie is incredibly gorgeous as she works to reach her climax, bouncing lightly on her heels as the pressure builds, her moans longer and louder, but it’s when she stops moving and presses the shower head closer, directly over her clit, that he knows she’s almost ready to come.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” she whines, pinching a nipple, arching her back, and her voice is high and breathy and addictive. He would give anything to be in the same room as those sounds, to pull her wet body close and help her get off. “Fuck, mmm,” she purrs, bringing the stream even closer, and she comes, short, loud moans that sound like they’re being ripped from her throat as her thighs shake, her chest heaves.

She drags a slow hand down her body, like she’s soothing herself, and then shudders, pulls the shower head away like maybe the pressure is too much where she’s sensitive. With a sigh, she reaches for the phone, tilts it so her face is in view, cheeks flushed and wet hair clinging to her shoulders. She turns up her lips in a coy smile. “See you soon.” The video ends.

It takes Hotch a moment to lock his phone, and he looks a little dazed when Spencer risks a glance up at his face—with good reason. If he was on the receiving end of videos like that, he would never be able to focus on anything.

The rest of the trip is quiet, certainly uneventful in comparison. Spencer makes a show of opening his eyes fully, stretching, thinks it would be too awkward now to admit he saw and heard every incredible second; Hotch looks over at him with an expression he can’t read, and then flips open a new case file.

When they land, he and Hotch are the last two to grab their bags, and Hotch brushes up against him in a way that feels purposeful, but is probably wishful thinking. “Do you have anything going on for the rest of the night?” he asks, and Spencer shakes his head.

“Nope, nothing.” Maybe masturbating—definitely masturbating—but he doesn’t need to know that. Hotch nods, thoughtful.

“You should come home with me.” Spencer looks at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“We both know that you saw the video,” he says in a low, no nonsense tone that makes him gulp. “I told Sophie, and she seemed… interested in the prospect. So you should come home with me. If you want to.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Hotch raises a hand, halting his train of thought.

“I may have had a suspicion that you were awake when I chose to play the video, so don’t be so hard on yourself.” Spencer looks at his face, trying to determine if he’s saying what he thinks he’s saying. He did that on purpose? He knew that Spencer was watching? “No pressure, if you don’t want to come over. I would never want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“I do want to… do… whatever it is we’re doing,” he rambles awkwardly, and Hotch chuckles.

“What we're doing is having sex. And I won’t touch you, or anything, if you don’t want that. It can be me and Sophie and you and Sophie.” Spencer swallows hard again, so turned on and breathless that it makes him feel bold.

“What if I do want you to touch me?” he asks, and Hotch leans in slowly, hot breath at his ear.

“Then I’m going to touch you.” When he pulls away, his fingers brush over Spencer’s jaw. “Do you want to come home with me?”

His answer is an emphatic yes. Aaron is due home any minute, and Sophie is vibrating with nervous energy, puttering around the apartment in her robe, couldn’t sit still if she tried. She waits for him on nights he has to work late and can’t bring it home, sure, but it’s almost never like this, where they are apart for days on end. It’s seriously affecting not only her sex drive, but also her mental state, which she hadn’t expected; she feels clingy, needy already, wants to smell him and touch him and taste him and be caged in by him, and it’s frankly getting a little out of hand.

It doesn’t help, she guesses, that she sent that video, but she was horny and wanted his attention… and boy, did she get it, had several texts come through a couple of minutes after she sent it, all very sweet and dirty and good.

Then she saw one about Reid, wanted to be mortified, but she just… wasn’t.

A: So, Reid saw me watching your present.

S: Oh, really? Did he like it?

A: Yeah, he liked it.

A: I bet he’d come pretty quick if he got to see the real thing.

A: Touch you… taste you.

God, how can this calm, controlled man make her such a whimpering mess with just a couple of texts? It’s unfair, is what it is.

S: Maybe we should invite him over sometime.

S: I’ve seen him looking at you, too.

S: Imagine how pretty he would look between us.

That was about an hour ago, and the only thing she received in reply was a brief message letting her know they’d landed and that he was on the way home. She hopes she didn’t upset him, knows that he’s mentioned being interested in men but that he’s never slept with one, hopes she didn’t hit a sore spot. She promises herself they will talk about it when he gets home.

But when he gets home, he kisses her so deeply she feels faint. Her body is lit up in an instant, suddenly desperate for more of him.

“I brought you a present,” he says, so low and sexy, and she grins, breathless, wraps her arms around his neck.

“Ooh, you know I love presents. What is it?”

“It’s not a what, it’s a who,” Spencer says, then, from the open doorway, and she glances between them, bites at her bottom lip. He steps inside and closes the door.

Fuck.

“Hey, Spencer,” she greets, but she can hear the tremble in her voice when she does. He looks to Aaron, and Aaron reaches back, wraps a hand around his wrist, guides him closer.

“I told him what you said, about how pretty he would look between us. He happened to agree, so I figured, why wait?” He looks her over intently, like he’s making sure she’s okay with this.

She is so okay with this.

She wants to speak but she’s so out of breath, her heart beating so fast, that she just pulls him down for a kiss, messy and graceless, and then she reaches for Spencer’s shirt and pulls him close as well, doing the same. She takes turns kissing them, ten kisses each, probably, until Aaron pushes her back gently with a soft laugh.

“Easy, baby. He’s going to stay the night; we have time to go slow.” Her chest is heaving, and he walks around so he’s standing behind her, unties the sash of her robe, pulls it off to reveal the lacy black bra and panties she thought would be a sexy surprise.

He kind of outdid her in the surprise department, but she’ll forgive him this once.

He runs his hands over her panties, her stomach, her boobs, and she bends her neck back, arching up for his lips, moaning against them. Spencer approaches, a bit hesitant, puts his hands on her hips and kisses her exposed throat, her chest. She feels like she’s died and gone to heaven, two pairs of hands on her, two mouths, her body pressed between them tightly. She thinks offhand that she’s glad her ankle doesn’t hurt anymore, because she could stand between them all night long, if they keep this up, would be content to never move again.

Then one of Spencer’s beautiful, incredible hands slips down the front of her panties, and they stop kissing her to kiss each other, and she whimpers, and her knees give out anyway.

“So dramatic,” Aaron whispers teasingly in her ear as he holds her up, big hands on her body, and she shakes her head, wets her lips.

“Not being dramatic. This is so fucking sexy.” Spencer—apparently not worried about the fact that she almost collapsed on them because Aaron wasn’t—slides two fingers over the slippery wet lips of her pussy, and she groans. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take all the attention,” she murmurs, moving her hips against his hand. “Kiss some more, please.” Spencer huffs a laugh and leans in, catches Aaron’s lips with his. From her point of view she can see the slide of their tongues, lips pressing together, and she groans again.

“If it’s okay with you,” Spencer says to her when they separate, “I would really like to eat your pussy now.” He kisses her softly on the cheek, and she exhales, shaky.

“Yeah, please—please do that.”

“I’ll hold you,” Aaron whispers, lips at her ear. “I’ll be right here, I promise.” She hums, leans back against him, and Spencer drops to his knees, guides her panties down. She’s so wet there’s slick on the insides of her thighs, and when he lifts one leg to hook her knee around his shoulder, he licks it away. She shudders.

She feels like she should have known how hot and skillful his mouth would be, because he talks so fast sometimes that his brain—his incredibly high-functioning brain—can’t even keep up, and she usually finds his mouth cute, but right now she finds it sexy, will probably never be able to look at it without thinking of the way he feels with his tongue in her pussy.

He is very enthusiastic, licking her quick and deep, with one hand on her waist and the other rubbing her clit like he’s got a PhD in bringing girls to orgasm, and she knows she’s moaning like a slut, gets even louder when Aaron bites at her earlobe, kisses her neck, squeezes her breasts. “Fuck, oh fuck, yeah,” she pants, reaches a hand down to wrap it in Spencer’s hair, making him groan; she rocks against his delicious mouth, which he encourages, moving his hand to her ass and guiding her closer.

“Come for him, baby,” Aaron urges, hand inside the cup of her bra to pinch her nipple. “Isn’t he pretty, down on his knees for you?” She drops her head back against him, brings a hand to his hair, too.

“So pretty.” He stoops down to kiss her as best as he can, and Spencer’s looking up at them, gorgeous, and she comes tugging on both of them, panting into Aaron’s mouth.

When Spencer stands up and kisses her, mouth soft and wet after working her through her orgasm, and then Aaron leans in to taste both of them on her lips? It’s a wonder she doesn’t get weak in the knees again. Sophie is soft and pliant after she comes, clinging onto them, and Aaron lifts her into his arms and carries her to the bedroom, Spencer following closely behind. He sets her on the bed, unhooks her bra and pulls it off; Spencer watches closely as he does, kneels down to kiss her, brush his hands over her bare breasts, and she sighs at the treatment.

“What do you want to do?” Aaron asks them, getting down on his knees as well, and he kisses them, thrills at the similarities in their soft lips, soft skin.

“I wanna suck you both,” she says, and he touches her face gently.

“Are you sure you’re up for that? You look a little fuzzy.” He didn’t think that she would get submissive so quickly, since he hadn’t actually dominated her, but can see how feeling at the mercy of two men might make her go to that place; he just wants to make sure he does what’s best for her while she’s there.

“Might not be able to get you off, but I want them in my mouth. Can I?” She looks up at him, then at Spencer, who swallows visibly. Aaron gave him a little insight on the way there about how they normally interact with each other, how she likes to ask for permission and he likes to give it—or deny it, depending.

(Aaron Hotchner’s crash course on having a submissive girlfriend—he might have to find a way to monetize that, somehow.)

“You can, for a couple minutes. Then what do you want?” He looks to Spencer to see if he has anything in mind.

“I don’t—I’ve never done this,” he says quietly, and he and Sophie both touch him, and she nuzzles against his shoulder.

“Neither have we, it’s okay. You want to, though?” He looks at them with soft, open eyes, and nods without hesitation.

“Yeah, I want to.” Aaron takes his face in his hands, kisses him deeply.

“Okay, good. Sophie,” he says softly, touches her face too, “do you think you would be alright being with both of us at the same time?” She licks her lips and frowns a little like she’s confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could lay you down, and one of us could be inside your pussy, and one of us could be inside your mouth. I’ll take your mouth,” he decides quickly, because she doesn’t like it too fast or rough and he knows her limits, doesn’t want to hurt or overwhelm her. “You’ll be full of us, baby. Do you think you want that?” She closes her eyes, nods, and Spencer touches her throat with long, gentle fingers.

“You’d give us that?” he asks like he’s in awe, and Aaron gets it, knows how much it means that she trusts them with something like this. “You’re incredible, Sophie,” he murmurs against her lips, and she sighs, pulls him closer.

Watching them make out is a very enjoyable thing, made all the more so when he decides to come up behind Spencer to unbutton his pants, untuck his shirt. The younger man moans at the feel of his hands helping him undress, and he presses back against Aaron’s chest, panting and eager. He guides him to stand, gets him naked, and wraps a hand around his long, hard cock, stroking it a couple times.

“You want her mouth on you while I get undressed?” he asks, and Spencer bucks up into his hand, nods quickly. Sophie reaches for him, pulling him closer, and she licks at the head, moans. “Gently,” he murmurs in Spencer’s ear, “let her be in control.” He nods seriously, presses a hand to Sophie’s cheek when she takes him in.

Between the two of them, their moans are so filthy, wanton, that he craves the heat of their mouths, so he captures Spencer’s in a kiss when he can, pulling off his clothes slowly so they can enjoy the time together. “Sophie,” Spencer murmurs, and she looks up at him, and Aaron’s arms around him, and whines. She pulls off of him, licks her lips looking hungry.

“I’m ready for you guys.” The simple sentence makes his dick throb, and he lays her back on the bed, kisses her soft and sweet and slow. Spencer curls around them, kisses them and rubs his hands over their bare skin.

“Spencer, can you get in that drawer and take out a condom?” he has presence of mind to ask, glad that the ones they have should fit him, and he stretches up, all long, lithe muscles, grabs one and tears the wrapper open, rolling it on. Neither Aaron nor Sophie can take their eyes off of him, and when he’s finished, Aaron moves out of his way so he can settle between her legs. She hitches up her knees, and he knows first hand how inviting that can be, understands completely when he shivers with pleasure.

Aaron kisses Sophie a few more times, whispers sweet, loving words into her ear, and then he crawls up by her head, the tip of his dick at the same level as her mouth.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks, running his hands over her breasts, and she nods, puts her hands on Spencer’s hips and pulls him closer until he is fully sheathed inside her; he keeps still, panting, and Aaron leads forward to brush his hair back. “You’re so gorgeous, Spencer,” he coos, and then he presses into Sophie's mouth, sighs.

She takes him in hand, guiding him in and out at a pace she’s comfortable with, so he just lets her take the lead and runs his hands over her body, Spencer’s fingers where they press against her thighs. He is pumping into her deeply now, an easy rhythm Sophie matches with her hand, and the room is filled with a symphony of soft, wet sounds and moans and hums that Aaron doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

He is wholly unsurprised when he is the first to come, because watching Spencer’s hips move against her, his hands careful where he holds her down, and feeling her moan around his cock because she loves feeling full, it’s all too much for him. He spills with a groan, and Spencer watches his face like it’s art, which makes him feel warm in his chest. Something to explore at a later time.

Sophie lets go of him, panting, and he slides down to his belly so he can kiss her mouth, caress her. He looks up at Spencer, who appears to be trying so hard not to come, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and he rubs Sophie’s clit to help get her close, so he’ll stop trying so hard and just let himself feel good.

“Oh, god,” Sophie whines, brings her hands up to squeeze hard at her breasts. “This is good, so good, mmm.” She starts bucking hard against him, her neck stretched long, and he knows the instant she comes, her mouth opening in a wordless moan before she all but howls her pleasure. Spencer groans, shifts his legs a little so he’s hovering over the both of them, and he thrusts for a few more seconds before finding his own orgasm. “Hmm, yes,” Sophie sighs, and he kisses her slowly, passionately; Aaron rubs both of their bodies as they shiver with aftershocks, and they all sink into the mattress, deeply spent.

They cuddle together for a few minutes, until Sophie complains she has to pee, and she and Spencer go into the bathroom together to take care of business. Aaron runs a hand through his hair and exhales long, because this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen, while also being one of the most unforgettable nights of his life; he knows they’ll look to him for guidance about what to do next, and he’s really not sure what to say when they do.

When they amble back into the room, they’re both smiling softly, and Aaron smiles because he can’t help it. They climb back onto the bed, Spencer in the middle, though Sophie reaches across him to rub at the hair on Aaron’s chest.

“So that’s a thing that happened,” Sophie says eventually, propped up on her elbow, looking over at their two blissed out faces with nothing short of affection. “Is it a thing that’s going to happen again, or a thing we swear up and down didn’t happen?—No pressure, only asking so I know how to compartmentalize my many, many thoughts.”

Aaron looks to Spencer and can’t help but feel like there’s something more worth exploring, there. He thinks Spencer feels the same when he pulls him in for a tender kiss.

“I think it should happen again,” Spencer murmurs, and Sophie leans down to kiss him too.

“Yeah, it should happen again.” Aaron sits up, smiles at his girl, guides her mouth to his.

“Okay, then.” They kiss again, easy, sweet, and he breathes a laugh. “We owe you for this, you know: you and your little shower performance.”

“Oscar worthy,” Spencer says with a grin, and Sophie shoves him playfully.

“Hey, a girl has needs.”

“And we’ll help you meet them,” Aaron promises, running a hand suggestively along her body, and she covers it with hers.

“No way. I’m tapped out, buddy. Unless I get sleep or pizza, no more sex from me tonight.” Aaron feigns hurt, pulls away, flops onto his back with an exaggerated sigh, and she crawls past Spencer to straddle his waist. “So dramatic,” she teases, leans down for a kiss, then climbs off the bed altogether. “I’m good with pizza—I don’t want to go to sleep just yet, not when I’ve got two pretty boys in my bed.”

“I second pizza,” Spencer murmurs, his face pressed against Aaron’s bicep. Sophie pauses in the doorway, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Do you think they’ll do a third veggie, and a third pepperoni, and a third Hawaiian? Or am I gonna have to order two pizzas?” She comes back over to the bed, kisses them both soft, affectionate, and smiles. “Always complicating things, Spencer Reid.”

#aaron hotchner x original female character #hotch x original female character #latina original female character #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #spencer reid x original female character #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x reader

90 notes · View notes

lucyintheskywithxanax · 3 years

Text

Bound (nsfw)

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: alright guys, here’s the thing. I decided to write a nsfw series about Wilhemina learning to let go and allow herself to be vulnerable during sex. Every fic in this series can be read independently. The series’ temporary title, as suggested by @venablemayfairgoode, is, I quote: “Smut Hard III: The Smuttening (the first two Smut Hard’s were skipped because the orgasms were too good)”. I hope you appreciate her genius. I certainly do. x

(also if you have ideas for this series I’ll gladly take them, I only have 3 parts as of now)

Word count: ≈ 2 400

Warnings: smut (bondage, very slight sub-dom), PTSD, references to past bullying (this one is pretty angsty but the next will be all happiness)

Wilhemina giggled and tried to plant kisses on your arm as you delicately closed the handcuffs around her wrists. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” she breathed, voice low and husky and deep. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You flashed a grin at her, brushed her hair back from her face. “Relax now. And remember what we said. If you want me to stop, tell me.”

She hummed, nipped your skin. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Mina.”

“Yes,” she breathed, eyes clouded and very dark. She lifted her head to kiss you. “Yes,” she repeated in your mouth, teasing the tip of her tongue against yours. You kissed her back, sinking into her for a moment, before you pulled away and sat up at her side.

You took your time watching her, admiring every curve and dip of her body, the gentle swell of her stomach, of her breasts, the sharp jaw and plump lips and pink cheeks. She let out a nervous chuckle. “What?”

You shook your head, biting your lower lip to hold back a grin. “Nothing. You look gorgeous.”

She arched an eyebrow dubiously, as she often did when you complimented her. You smoothed your thumb over it.

“Not as gorgeous as you do,” she retorted.

“That’s up for debate,” you teased, crawling down the bed and settling between her legs. Wilhemina shivered expectantly.

You peppered kisses on her stomach as you stroked your hands up and down her thighs, nails gently grazing. When you glanced up at her, she was tugging on her restraints, testing their resistance.

“Are you okay?” you asked her. “Do you want them removed?”

“No, I’m fine, I – “ She glanced down at you, lust and nervousness fighting in her eyes. “I’m just not used to them, that’s all.”

You hummed, rested your chin on her stomach. “How do they make you feel?”

She bit her lower lip, eyes boring into yours. You dropped a kiss on her skin for encouragement.

“Vulnerable,” she finally whispered. “But that’s okay,” she added quickly, offering you a smile. “I trust you.”

Your throat tightened at her words. You gave her a teary smile back, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. You knew how big of a deal that was for her to say and think that. Your heart kept swelling until you couldn’t hold it in anymore, so you crawled back up her body to kiss her, hoping you could pour all your love and adoration into her mouth. Maybe you were successful, for she sighed into the kiss, and her eyes stayed closed for a long time after you pulled away.

You trailed your mouth down her neck, up her left breast to plant a kiss on her nipple. You sucked on it lightly, humming at the faint, salty taste, then moved to her other breast.

“Gorgeous”, you repeated, planting yet another kiss on a dark freckle.

Wilhemina whimpered, lifted her hips as an invitation. You smirked, dropped one last kiss on her breast, and settled back between her legs.

Again, you took your time admiring her. You drew patterns on her stomach with one finger, smiling at the goosebumps that erupted under your touch, at how her muscles jumped when you reached a particularly sensitive spot. She opened your eyes to scowl at you.

“What?” you smirked.

“You know what,” she scoffed. She tugged at her restraints again. “You’re taking too long. Touch me.”

“I am touching you,” you teased.

She scoffed again. “You know what I mean.”

You shot her an innocent smile before moving further down the bed. A soft moan escaped you at the sight of what awaited you between her legs, and you dove in hungrily, resting your hands on her lower stomach to pin her hips to the bed.

She was so incredibly soft and warm you couldn’t stop sucking on her clit and swirling your tongue over it and pushing your tongue inside her, until she was dripping all over your chin like the juice of warm peaches just plucked from a tree. After a few moments, though, a noise escaped her that didn’t sound right to you. She swallowed it as soon as she became aware of it, but you heard it, and lifted your head to look at her.

She had wrapped her fingers around the chains of the handcuffs and was still tugging at them. She stopped as soon as she met your eyes.

“Ok, let me take them off,” you said, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand and sitting up.

“No,” she rasped, shaking her head, “no. Keep doing what you were doing.”

“Mina, they’re obviously bothering you and I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with just to please me.”

“I am comfortable with them,” she protested. “I just need more time to get used to them.” A pause, as you studied her face, unsure what to do. “Could you – “She cleared her throat. “Maybe if you came up here – ”Her voice trailed off.

You rolled your eyes at her fondly, crawled up her body. Gently, you lowered yourself on top of her and she lifted her head to kiss you.

Wilhemina let out a happy sigh at the feel of your naked body pressing down on her. She wanted to tangle her fingers in your hair, wanted to stroke and tease and pinch, but as she made to move her arms, the handcuffs held her in place. She groaned in frustration, bit your lower lip.

Your hand found its way to her center and Wilhemina whimpered, shivering under you. Nervousness still made her skin tingle, but she felt safer now that she could feel you, now that it was your warmth that surrounded her instead of cold air. She felt protected by your body from whatever was lurking in the dim room.

As pleasure built between her legs, as her core throbbed and burnt under your touch, as her mouth parted open on soft, needy gasps, something suddenly stirred in her chest. Like someone awaking it stretched its limbs and yawned. It took more room inside of her.

She tried to move her arms to hold you. The handcuffs dug into her skin.

You pushed two fingers inside her, and her hips lifted of their own to let them sink deeper. She moaned, captured your lip between hers, but the thing in her chest would not go away. You slid your fingers in and out slowly, drawing out her pleasure, moaning softly at how wet and warm and soft she felt.

You pushed another finger inside and Wilhemina willed herself to focus on how nice and full it felt, and how your body was oozing warmth into hers, but she couldn’t move her arms and suddenly she realized how utterly helpless she was. She had given you all the keys and the thing inside her chest stirred and whispered that you could very well decide to lock all the doors and keep her trapped in a tiny room with no light. You could decide to mock her for days on end as others had and she would have no way to fight back.

You sighed into her mouth, slipped your free hand to the nape of her neck. Your fingers stroked the clammy skin there, as you picked up the pace between her legs, brushing your thumb over her clit, and Wilhemina moaned again, for it felt so good, and her head was fogged with arousal, and she knew you would never hurt her. But then your hand that was on the nape of her neck slipped lower down and stroked the top of her spine.

And suddenly she no longer was in bed with you. She was in high-school, one afternoon during recess, and a group of teenagers from her class pushed her to the ground and made her lie on her stomach and ripped her shirt so they could take a look at her back. One of the girls pinned her arms on the ground to prevent her from moving, and another one sat on her legs. Hot palms pressed against her spine, fingers probing, disgusted noises and laughter filling her ears – the supervisor, laughing too, and leaning against the wall to watch.

And she knew it was only you, she knew you would never hurt her but hands were probing her back again, and she couldn’t move her arms, and fingers were touching her – she wanted them to stop touching her – and she could hear voices, sneering and making puking noises and letting out shocked, disgusted laughs –

“Mina?”

- and she could not move and the hands would not go away no matter how she begged and pleaded and sobbed –

“Stop,” she choked out, wriggling to try and free herself; she tried to sit up, but something held her back. Panic shot through her. “Stop,” she sobbed, “please, don’t touch me.”

“I’m not touching you, Mina, love. Look at me. I’m not touching you.”

Two faint clinks, her wrists being freed. She pulled on the sheet to cover herself, hide her back, don’t let them see, don’t let them touch and mock. She let the soft caress of the sheet on her skin soothe the mad racing of her heart, until she felt like she could breathe again.

Only then did she take a peek at you. You had moved to the other side of the bed to give her space, both hands held up, your eyes shining and wide with concern. Wilhemina took one look at you then buried her face in the sheet, forcing herself to take long, deep breaths. Her body started shaking.

She slipped one hand out from under the sheet and extended it towards you. You immediately took it in yours and laced your fingers with hers.

“Here, Mina,” you said, voice quivering. “Do you need to put this on?”

She peeked up at you again. You had picked her shirt from the floor and were offering it to her.

Tears of gratitude pooled in her eyes. She considered, shook her head. Get a grip on yourself, said the voice in her head. But it was weak and faint, as if it came from somewhere deep, deep inside her, instead of just under her skin. Don’t let her see you like this. Fight! Say something mean. Prove her you’re strong!

Wilhemina rubbed her cheek on the sheet. She’d rather not. She’d rather let herself sink into the warmth and softness of your embrace and let her wounds bleed until they could coagulate.

“Sweetheart?” you called. “Are you okay? What do you need? What can I do?” Your voice was soft and thick with concern. But most of all it was warm, and the warmth seeped into Wilhemina and spread throughout her body and made it stop shaking.

The voice in her head was still arguing. But it was so faint now, she couldn’t make out the words.

She sniffed and slipped her other arm out and opened it to silently ask for a hug.

You hesitated, but only for a second. You slipped under the sheet and draped one arm over Wilhemina’s waist, not daring to press yourself against her or to touch her back, but she snuggled up to you, burying her face in your neck and holding you tight. Her breath, hot and moist, tickled your skin as she released a relieved sigh. She pressed her naked chest against yours, tangled her legs in yours, and nuzzled your neck.

Blinking back tears, you tightened your grip on her, careful to avoid touching her spine. You dropped a kiss on top of her head.

For a moment there was only silence as you held each other. After a while had passed, you ran one hand in her hair and whispered, “I’m here if you want to talk.”

You felt her nod against you, but she kept silent. She shifted, though, raised her head to press her mouth against yours. Her lips moved almost lazily, as if she were spent after a great effort. She pressed herself closer against you still, and her leg that was trapped between yours brushed your arousal.

You felt yourself stiffen, not wanting her to think you had to resume making love, but she merely lowered her leg again and sighed in your mouth.

You dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose.

She opened her eyes, gave you a small, apologetic smile.

“Don’t,” you said before she had time to speak, putting one finger on her lips. “Don’t you dare say sorry or I’ll never kiss you again.”

Her smile grew a little. “That sounds a bit harsh,” she whispered. “Besides, I’m not sure you could stop yourself.”

As if to prove her point, she tantalizingly brushed her mouth over yours, her breath warm on your lips, and you swore her mouth was a magnet for you lasted exactly two seconds before you tried to kiss her. She pulled away with a chuckle, changed her mind, met your mouth halfway.

When she broke the kiss, she buried her face in your neck again and sighed.

“I don’t have good memories about being restrained,” she whispered.

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you. Your throat tightened with guilt, and you were about to apologize when you decided to wait, let her speak, let her finish.

“Maybe next time it’d be easier if you didn’t touch my back.”

“Next time?” you breathed. “Mina, I’m not sure –“

“Next time,” she repeated, planting a kiss on your skin. She rubbed the sole of her foot on your calf. There was a short pause, then she added, almost shyly, “I want to replace the bad memories with good ones.”

“Ok,” you smiled.”Sounds good to me.” A kiss on her forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Wilhemina sighed. “You didn’t know.”

She kissed your neck again, licked the skin with the tip of her tongue. You hummed, and then hummed again when Wilhemina’s hand slid down to knead your butt.

You pulled away to kiss her, trying to be gentle but desire soon filled up your head again as Wilhemina’s hand roamed your body, fingers caressing and pinching and teasing, leaving warmth and love in their wake. It took you a while before you realized her hand was sliding lower and lower, but when you did, you broke the kiss and pulled away to meet her eyes.

“Um, what if I hold you instead, uh?” you whispered, stroking your thumb over her lower lip.

She blinked, eyes wide and soft.”But you – “she started.

You shook your head. “I’m fine.” A smile, a kiss on the pad of your thumb. “Come on, time to cuddle.”

Wilhemina chuckled, touched her nose to yours. She pressed one last kiss on your lips and sighed contentedly.

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Tag list: @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers @coconutlipss @saucy-sapphic @thesupremewife @paulsonpills @notokpaulson

#ahs #ahs imagines #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #fics

195 notes · View notes

spacedikut · 4 years

Text

(nearly) lost love ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “hi idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love to read something where the reader ends up getting hurt somehow (maybe by an unsub) and is in the hospital and spencer is super worried about her and maybe confesses his feelings for her bc he thought he was gonna lose her?? idk just something super fluffy with a little angst if you’re up for it” 2890 words

a/n: im gon na be honest idk how to write angst so i just went where the story took me????

masterlist

Spencer was proudly stood in front of his geological profile in the Austin precinct when the frantic call was made over the comms.

“Agent down! I repeat, Agent down! We need a medic!”

It was Morgan’s booming voice, firm and commanding, and Spencer first felt relief knowing at least Morgan was safe. But fear follows, prickling through his entire body when, oh no, someone on his team has been injured.

Morgan kept his comm connected. Spencer could hear all the chaos on the other end – he picked up that JJ was counting bodies, there was at least four medics requested, and, the most gut-wrenching for Spencer, was listening to Morgan repeat variations of, “Stay with me Y/N. Don’t close your eyes – listen to me, baby, stay with me, Y/N!”

You. You were the agent down.

You, who, less than two hours ago, laughed at your own joke so hard you couldn’t get it out. You, who made plans with him to go shopping for Halloween decorations that weekend (which Spencer was way too excited about, by the way). You.

You, who Spencer recently realised he’s in love with.

Why does he feel like this is his fault? He knows, logically, it isn’t – the obvious reason is because Spencer wasn’t there (which, a little voice in the back of his head says well maybe if you were there this wouldn’t have happened…) and it’s likely that this is entirely the ubsub’s fault. He attacked and you were the unlucky target.

But the history of Spencer’s love life shows there is a definite risk to being associated with him.

Is this the world’s way of telling him he shouldn’t love you? He shouldn’t tell you he loves you?

Was the big speech Derek gave him, the month they spent building Spencer’s confidence up, all for nothing? Because Spencer’s cursed?

This isn’t about you, Spencer, he thinks, angry at himself. God, you’re hurt, injuries still unknown, and he’s floundering because he’s convinced himself he’s cursed.

“Reid? You there?”

It’s Morgan, still talking through the comm, and it knocks Spencer out of his head. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Y/N? Is it Y/N? Is she okay?”

Morgan’s voice is calm and collected, as always, “Hey, kid, chill. She’s with a medic on the way to the hospital. You wanna-“

“I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer dashes out of the room.

+++

When he arrives, Hotch and JJ are waiting for him at the entrance. JJ expected Spencer to be worried, a little agitated, but she didn’t expect him to look so dishevelled and distressed. His hair, usually so well-kempt, sticks up in all directions. He abandoned his jacket and satchel at the station, obviously in a rush, and now his shoelace is untied and it’s giving JJ anxiety.

“Reid,” Hotch greets.

“How-“

“She’s fine, she’s okay,” JJ immediately says. Spencer has always said JJ knows exactly how to soothe him. “A nasty knock to the head, but she’s been taken care of and she’s resting now.”

Spencer’s whole body sighs in relief.

He sounds fragile when he asks, “Can I see her?”

JJ gives a small, bittersweet smile, then gestures for Spencer to follow her. He stays close, basically standing on her heels, the entire way to your room, where Emily is leaving.

He struts straight in, acknowledging no one, intent on seeing you and seeing you only.

You lie there, lifeless. All he can hear is the haunting sound of the heart monitor, combined with your chest minimally moving up and down being the only signs you’re alive. You’ve lost all your usual colour – Spencer recalls JJ mumbling something about you losing a lot of blood – and the whole sight makes his stomach lurch.

He walks in, and walks right back out.

Everyone shares looks of bewilderment. He did a complete 180, hardly sparing you a glance, and ran straight into the hospital’s bathroom where the team hears the distinct sound of retching.

Derek sighs and follows him. Their gazes meet: Spencer’s head barely lifting from the toilet bowl, Derek shutting and locking the bathroom door with pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer starts.

“Don’t apologise. How you feeling?”

He groans in response, leaning against the wall. He begs himself to not think about all the germs and diseases that are probably infesting his body as they speak – his heart stings too much in his chest for that.

Spencer swallows the stone in his throat, grimacing at the remnants of bile, “Seeing her like that..”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that. I’ve never wanted to see her like that and-and.. I couldn’t be there to protect her and help her-“

“None of this is your fault, Reid. It’s not your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s fault except the guy that did this. And he’s dead. And she’ll be fine. Please,” Derek warns, “Don’t guilt yourself into mayhem. I know you, and I know her, and all she wants is for you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. If not, or if she finds out you’re beating yourself up over this, she’ll kill you, man. With her bare hands.”

Derek’s smirking at the end of his speech because he’s right and Spencer knows it too. And Spencer can’t refrain from grinning a little at the thought of you, just gaining consciousness, and leaping from your bed to smack some sense into him.

You’re incredible. Which both pains him and makes him fall for you harder.

When Spencer rises and starts swirling his mouth out with water, Derek gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and leaves, Spencer not far behind.

This time, he won’t run out of the room like a weakling. Because it’s you and you need him to be there for you.

It’s what you’d do for him. And before that thought can go any further, he’s taking a deep breath and opening the door.

You’re still resting, looking exactly the same as when he first saw you, and his stomach jumps into his throat again – it pains him to see you like this.

But Penelope is leaning over you, fingers brushing your hair back with the trademarked tenderness that is Penelope Garcia. You’ve always called her your Fairy Godmother, your guardian angel, the true love of your life.

Maybe you’d rather see her when you first wake up.

So he stays back, lingering by the entrance of the room, until Rossi nudges him and he stumbles to the top of your bed. Right by your face, your oh-so-gorgeous but bruised face, and Spencer stares.

He can’t explain how glad he is that you’re okay. You’re here, a little beaten up, but he knows that in a couple days, maximum a week, you’ll be back in the bullpen with your quirks and nudges and warmth that is so you and he’ll never let anything come near you again.

(He knows he can’t actually do that. You wouldn’t let him. But he still thinks it, because he loves you and he’ll do anything for you)

The team silently agrees that Spencer will be the one to stay with you. At least until you wake up.

(Why? You might ask. Because you drunkenly told the girls that you’re convinced the closest thing to heaven on Earth would be waking up and Spencer Reid being the first thing you see every day. Ever since, they’ve committed themselves to trying to set you two up)

Spencer sleeps next to your bed, cramped in the uncomfortable and tiny chair, until about seven am. Then he recites some books in his head, just to pass the time. Then Penelope calls.

“I’m on my way with baked goods, Doctor. Would you like me to pick something up for you and the sleeping beauty?”

Spencer goes to decline, before looking at you, “I think Y/N would appreciate a burger. Maybe two.”

Garcia hums down the line, “You know, she’s always been full of good ideas. I’ll buy too many burgers then be on my way. Kisses!” Then hangs up.

In the meantime, Spencer scrolls through your conversation on his phone. He’d never been one for texting, or technology (notoriously), but you always send him things you think he’d like – maybe an article (he’s read every single one you’ve sent, even the one about the monkey using a frog to masturbate), a picture of a cute dog (this one looks like you, spence!!!!!!), and anything else that catches your eye.

For example, a comprehensive list of way too many “why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes.

They’re your kryptonite. Even after you explained the joke to Spencer, in depth, he still doesn’t quite understand the appeal. But you love them.

So he reads them to you.

He knows you can’t hear him. Being asleep is obviously very different to being in a coma, where people have claimed to be able to hear the people around them, but it passes the time and eases him a little. Cause he also knows that if you were awake you’d be chortling away, happy as can be. And that’s how you should always be.

Happy.

Spencer hopes he makes you happy.

Damn, he loves you.

Damn.

He has to tell you he loves you.

It feels like this need, this obligation – if he doesn’t tell you when you wake up then when will he tell you? The next time you’re injured?

The thought sends him reeling.

No matter the outcome, you need to know. He needs to tell you.

“Why did the rooster cross the road?” He reads aloud, “To cockadoodle dooo something.”

He’s cheesing at his screen, at the audacity and stupidity of these jokes. But they’re sweet, just like you, and they take everyone prisoner when it comes to making people smile.

“That was a good one.” You heh.

Your voice is croaky after not being used in hours, but it’s still the same dreamy voice Spencer loves to hear.

You’re awake. And already smiling, which is one hell of a win in Spencer’s book.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“It’s morning?” You ask, moving your head slowly to see outside your window. “At least I got a full night’s sleep for once.”

“Should you really be joking in your condition?” Spencer teases, leaning to fluff your pillow when you wince.

You exhale deeply, “And what is my condition, exactly?”

“You look as sexy as ever, buttercup.”

Garcia’s grinning from the doorway, Derek the same from behind her, two bags of food in her hands.

You’re ecstatic when you say, “Penny!” Trying to hide the pain when she hugs you. You’re too happy to see her to turn down her love.

She dishes out the burgers and, as expected, you ask if there’s another in there for you. You chomp happily, despite the dull ache still present, chatting jovially with the three of them.

Penelope gets caught up in telling you about the most recent documentary she saw. When he notices, Derek nods towards the door, making Spencer furrow his eyebrows in confusion. What does he want?

Derek does it again and Spencer gets it. He lifts from his seat the same time Derek does, saying nothing until they’re out of the room and the door has shut behind them.

“I’m gonna make Penelope leave-“ Derek begins, and Spencer stutters.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

Derek chuckles at Spencer’s reaction, “Kid, everything’s fine. You just gotta tell her.”

Spencer doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t know what Derek’s referring to. He peeks through your door’s window, staring directly at you as you giggle at something Penelope says.

“Do I?” He ponders. “It could-“

“Nope. We’re not doing that “it could ruin everything” spiel. You’re an adult, she’s an adult, and adults don’t play around with feelings like this. Tell. Her.” Derek’s got both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, grip tightening and loosening sporadically as he talks. He looks like a football coach giving a pep talk before the big game, and Spencer feels invigorated.

“Alright.” Spencer nods once, “Let’s do this.”

“I will remove Penelope Garcia from the premises.”

They nod at eachother and move back into your room.

+++

When Penelope is pulled from your room by Derek, stumbling and muttering and stuttering, all you do is blink in confusion.

“What’s going on there?” You say, speaking out of the side of your mouth, as if you’re sharing a secret.

Spencer doesn’t answer. You turn to look at him, another question on your tongue, but the words die when you see his facial expression.

It’s so tender. So soft, and gentle, the littlest of smiles on his lips as his cheeks darken.

“If I tell you something really dramatic right now, do you think you could handle that?”

Your head tilts, brows furrowed, looking far too endearing with your bandaged head.

He clears his throat, “I just-just need to make sure it won’t overwhelm you.”

You don’t know what to expect, but you agree anyway. Is this why Derek and Penelope left?

“I vomited when I saw you in bed. In this bed. In hospital.” He begins.

“Oh, thanks, Spence,” You tease.

“No- no. Hear me out!” He gives a little laugh, hands coming up in defence. “I don’t have a script, and statistically, both men and women speak around sixteen-thousand words a day – I want these ones to be special. Because you’re special.”

You’re still visibly confused. You clasp your hands together in your lap, “I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

Having your full attention is terrifying and electrifying at the same time. Spencer wants you to know that.

“You make me feel things, you know.” He reveals, “Things I’ve only ever read about, fantasised about – you know… things.”

This is going terribly. For a man who’s read the dictionary more times than he cares to count (he does care to count – twenty two times), he is very much struggling to explain himself to you.

Deep breath. From the start.

“It’s alright, Spence,” You console, hand resting on his closed ones. “Take your time.”

He does. He takes a few more breaths. “I don’t know where to start so- so bear with me.”

“Always.”

Why do you have to make his heart race like that?

“What?”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Well. Might as well repeat it.

“I said,” Louder this time, “Why do you have to make my heart race like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. No- I like it. I like you, that’s what I’m trying to say. Maybe not like since Derek told me we’re not in high school, kid,” He lowers his voice to impersonate Derek, “But the l word is scary, especially when I don’t know how you’re gonna react. But whatever you say, however you react, we’ll be okay. I know we will. I just need you to know how you make me feel and how-how good I think I’d treat you, I guess.”

It feels like your silence goes on forever. Then you quietly ask, “And how do I make you feel, Spence?”

“Like I’ve never felt before. I meant it when I said you make me feel things I’ve only read about – you’re so easy to love, you know that? Infuriatingly so. And you’re so open – I think that’s what drew me in at first. You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but you heard I was asking around for someone to go with me to that convention and you said you were available if I wanted you and I… I had to practice how to ask you in the mirror for three days straight. Of course I want you, Y/N. I think I always have.”

His voice is timid when he asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Do you think you want me too?”

“Are you crazy?!” You cry out.

The volume makes Spencer jump. Then he registers what you said and slumps, rejection seeping in.

“Spencer-“ You say, exasperated, “You’re the most incredible person I know. I tell you all the time cause I mean it.” You give a short laugh, “How could you even think that I wouldn’t feel the exact same? I’m kind of obsessed with you, Spence.”

The shock on his face melts into pure joy. Is this really happening? You..

“I want you an embarrassing amount, Spencer Reid. I always have and I always will.”

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leaps forward and smashes your lips together. It’s messy and a little clunky, teeth hitting together and mouths unable to stop grinning, but it’s perfect. Everything you could’ve asked for in your first kiss with Spencer.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

And he thinks the exact same of you.

He pulls back, heart racing and entire body burning, strong hands cradling your head. It doesn’t take a profiler to realise the two of you, foreheads leaning against eachother, are the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

“You taste like burger.” Spencer breathes, soft and low.

You giggle. “You taste like coffee and burger.”

His lips quirk, raising an eyebrow, “You like it?”

You hum, rubbing your nose against his, “I like it a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.”

Spencer kisses you again.

And again.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #i like this one! i think #does anyone else struggle infinitely with titling fics #i go with the randomest shit lol

765 notes · View notes

hercleverboy · 4 years

Text

the right moment

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ for months, spencer has waited for the right time to propose to the reader. before he gets the chance, he gets in trouble in mexico.

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ prison reid arc,

word count ↠ 2.4k

“but if I sit in the rain, maybe I can drown in something other than my thoughts.” — j.w

For 8 months now, Spencer had been carrying the little velvet red box in his pocket. It was near enough always with him, almost weighing him down. For 8 months he had waited for the so called ‘right’ moment to propose to his long term girlfriend. Y/N was none the wiser, not even realising her boyfriend was even considering proposing, let alone had carried the ring around in every pair of bottoms he wore.

Before meeting and falling in love with Y/N, Spencer thought all this talk about there being a ‘right’ moment to propose was silly. Wasn’t it just as easy as getting down on one knee and asking?

Spencer liked to remind himself he once thought that way. How wrong he was. He couldn’t have guessed just how damn nervous he would get. Palms sweaty and breaths heavy, he was just so fucking nervous and he couldn’t figure out why. A big genius brain and he couldn’t pull it together long enough to ask the woman he loved to marry him. The ‘right’ moment never seemed to come. Sometimes he looked at her, looking so beautiful in whatever dress she’d worn to date night and he thought, “Okay, this is it, I’m gonna do it” but his nerves got in the way and when he could finally breathe normally, the moment was gone.

As if he didn’t feel like enough of a coward, the relentless teasing from the team didn’t help.

He’d walk in to the bullpen in the morning and be immediatley bombarded with questions.

Garcia would be first, nearly choking on her morning coffee in excitment as he walked in. “Dr Reid!” She exclaimed, making Spencer wince and prepare himself. “As you know, I got lunch the other day with your gorgeous girlfriend, and couldn’t help but notice there’s still no ring on her finger.” She questioned.

Spencer had simply chuckled, shaking his head. “Im working on it, Garcia. I promise.” He hoped that his response had satisfied the team enough to leave him alone, but no. Derek emerged from the meeting room, a shit-eating grin on is face.

“Hey there, pretty boy. You made that stunning lady your fiancee yet?”

Spencer just shook his head and huffed.

“You do plan on proposing sometime this decade, right Reid?” He teased, as JJ came up behind him.

“You’ve still not done it? Come on, Spence!” JJ laughed. “Y/N will say yes, I’ve told you a hundred times!” She was the one Spencer had asked to go with him to chose the ring all those months ago. “That ring is too beautiful to sit in a box forever, so get on with it!”

Whilst he pretty much always carried the ring with him, the only exception was in the field. It was much too precious to lose while chasing an unsub. Although as soon as they were on the jet on the way home, he would fumble with the box in his hands as he stared out the window. The team would share a look. As much as they teased him, they were really just trying to persuade him to do it. Though, they could clearly see how nervous the young doctor really was. It was sweet, as much as it was silly. Spencer feared rejection, but the team all knew Y/N well enough to know that she wouldn’t waste a second saying yes when he asked.

He planned to make it a big moment, a fancy dinner, ending with them back at their apartment, with rose petals scattering the bed, the room lit with candles. But if it wasn’t his stupid nerves getting in the way, it was his work.

First it was him nearly dying at the hands of Cat Adams. That night, he just felt lucky to be able to go home to Y/N, who was waiting with her arms open for him to crash into. Then it was Morgan leaving the team to be there for his son, which Spencer wholeheartedly understood. He knew that if him and Y/N had a baby, he’d definitley consider making the same decision. But again, after effectively losing his best friend, Reid figured it wasn’t the time for a proposal.

Finally, the time came where he finally thought he’s was going to do it. He set a date, making preparations a week in advance. He ordered a dozen red roses and vanilla scented candles for the occassion, he planned their entire evening to a T. It would be perfect. Nothing could go wrong.

but then everything did.

His mother was only getting worse, and he decided to make one last trip to Mexico before he proposed. Y/N knew where he was going, and whilst she understood it was for his mother, she couldn’t help but worry. He’d soothed her worries with a kiss to the forehead, promising he’d be back in a few days.

Next thing he knew, he was being held in Mexico on murder and drug charges. Emily was there and he could see how hard she was trying to help, the rest of the team were aswell, but Spencer was clueless as to how he got there, missing periods of time from his memory. He was appreciative of the teams attempts to help but he knew how these things went.

As he stared at the greying walls of the holding cell, he couldn’t help but regret not proposing when he had the chance. Now he might never get one.

She was there to meet him when Emily managed to bring him back to Quantico, tears rolling down her cheeks as she hugged him tightly. He hated how the cuffs over his hands prevented him from holding her. He tried to soothe her, and Emily promised that everything would be okay. All he could think about was the little red box sat in his bedside table drawer at home.

He didn’t get to see her again until they were at the courthouse and he was denied bail. He watched how her face fell and the tears spilled as he was dragged away. He called out to her. “I love you so much.” and then he was gone.

He let her visit him in prison. At first he thought it might be selfish, he didn’t really want the men in there looking at her. But he needed to see her, she was the only thing holding him together, keeping him from completely giving up and falling apart.

His eyes connected to hers through the glass that separated them as she took a seat, offering a smile that she hoped would reassure him she was okay.

“Hi.”

“Hey, baby.” He murmured, and his arms ached to hold her in any way, to even just graze his thumb over her fingers.

“I miss you.” She whimpered, and he could see how strong she was trying to be for him. He thought she was so incredibly strong. He knew he’d break down if the shoe was on the other foot.

“I miss you too sweetheart.” He said it as a promise. A promise he would get out. When he sat in his cell at night, he promised to himself every night for three months, that should he ever make it out he would waste no time getting down on one knee.

When he was finally free, she waited anxiously outside the prison, Garcia holding her hand comfortingly. He walked through the gates and it was mere seconds before she was running to him, throwing her arms around him. He’d held her so tightly, the light of his life, the first light he’d seen or felt in 3 months. When they pulled apart he’d kissed her lips, just a peck that was over just as it started, but it was enough for the moment.

“I love you,” He whispered, again and again like a mantra for only her to hear.

He wished they had more time, more time to be together and love one another, but right now they had bigger problems. Later he would kiss her for hours and hold her to his hearts content, but his mind was plagued with worry for his mother, his only focus was making sure she was safe. Spencer didn’t stop touching Y/N the whole ride to the BAU building, always touching her in some way. He’d been so starved of touch in that prison and being able to hold her was something he would never take for granted again. His arm was around her shoulders and he held her hand as they rode in the back of the SUV. She tried desperately to calm him, as she could see how panicky he was getting at the thought of losing his mother. She just kissed his hand reassuringly, and he was thankful for the gesture, kissing her forehead in return.

After they saved Diana and won Cat Adams little game, Spencer finally felt at home when he stepped through the front door of their home, Y/N by his side. It was late, but he didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to just be with her. He insisted they lay together in bed, and she told him everything he missed in prison that she couldn’t talk about during her visits. He just wanted to listen to her talk, to engrain the sound of her voice into his brain and hope he never had to go without it ever again. They laid there, her head on his shoulder and his arms around her as she rambled about nothing in particular. He didn’t pay much attention, instead watching her face. He reacquainted himself with the features he’d missed, the blush of her cheeks and the curve of her Cupid’s bow, her beautiful eyes and perfect smile. Spencer was convinced he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life and before he could even think about it-

“Marry me.”

Y/N had stopped rambling mid-sentence, shock covering her face. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes wide.

“W-what?” She asked, her voice a tiny whisper.

He smiled, moving himself from underneath her. He turned to the side, and began rummaging around his bedside drawer.

She sat up, hands coming up to cover her mouth when she saw him. Spencer was on the floor beside the bed on one knee, red velvet box open in hand, showcasing the most beautiful diamond ring Y/N had ever seen.

“Y/N. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time now. I’ve been sure I wanted to marry you for a long time as well, ask the team, they’ll tell you I’ve carried this ring with me every day for nearly a year, waiting for the right moment.” He chuckled to himself. How stupid of him was that? “If prison taught me anything, it’s that time is so precious. In that cell I replayed every moment with you, every time I wish I’d got down on one knee and asked you then instead of waiting. I was so scared I would never get the chance. Which is why now that I have it, I’m taking it.” He finished, and tears were beginning to well in his own eyes.

“So, Y/N Y/L/N, Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She whispered, nodding frantically, and only once he’d slipped the ring on her finger did he realise he’d been holding his breath. He stood up as she moved to the edge of the bed to hug him. Her arms went around his neck and he held her securely at her waist. He lifted her from the bed, spinning her as they laughed. He noted that this was the most happiness he’d felt in months now. They pulled back as he set her down and she had tears running down her cheeks but he knew they were happy because of the smile on her face. She looked up at him, and he slowly leaned down, capturing her lips with his.

He realised that it was the first proper kiss they’d had in months, and in response his hands gripped tighter on her waist as the kiss got more passionate, her hands coming to trail down his chest. She could tell that he wanted to go further and so she pulled away.

He pouted, and she smiled at him but he could see the concern on her face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked quietly.

“As happy as I am right now, Spence..” She trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to say. “You just got out of prison. I know how difficult it was for you in there, and we’re going to have to talk about it sometime. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you right now, it’s all still so fresh.”

He nodded his head. “I know we have to talk about it, just not tonight please.” His voice was tired and pleading. “But you’re not taking advantage of me, I promise. I missed you so much in there. Let me show you how much.” He murmured as he began to place kisses down her neck.

“Are you sure you feel up to doing.. this?” She asked one more time, she had to be absoloutley sure. She’d missed him too, of course. Though the last three months of his life had been downright horrific and she needed him to be certain.

He smiled against her neck at her concern, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. I know you’re worried and I’m so grateful that you’re so concerned but right now, I just want to make love to my fiancée. ” He mumbled, kissing her forehead in a sweet, reassuring gesture.

She smiled, satisfied with his answer. Detatching herself from him, she sat on the bed again, moving backwards. “Well then, Dr.Reid. Get on with it.” She smirked, laughing a little as she laid on her back. He shook his head with a chuckle, moving to hover over her.

“Anything for you, future Mrs Reid.” He smiled at the name.

“Oh, ‘Mrs Reid’, I like the sound of that.” She giggled, placing her arms around his neck.

As Spencer looked down at her, his heart swelled with pride and happiness. He was finally getting his happy ending, and it was a well deserved one. He’d go through all the pain and suffering all over again if it would lead him to that moment.

“So do I.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #matthew gray gubler x reader #Matthew Gray Gubler #mgg x reader #mgg #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #bau

635 notes · View notes

maybeimamuppet · 3 years

Text

what's in a name

hello little muppets!! happy wednesday!

this is based on a prompt from a list given to me FOREVER ago (like. april, i think?? maybe may??) by @etchedstars (love you buddy!!) so thank you to aer for this!! enjoy this coffee shop au!

i don't think i need any trigger warnings for this one (for realsies this time, sorry about last week! or whenever that was, what is time.) but as always please let me know if i've missed one so i can add it in!!

enjoy!

Cady Heron loves routine.

She thrives on it, knowing exactly when and how and why things happen, in the order they do. Routine gives her a sense of control.

Every morning she wakes up at exactly seven, has an easy breakfast, takes a shower that lasts exactly fifteen minutes, brushes her teeth, then gets dressed, then does her hair, feeds her cat, and goes to class. Her days always end at two in the afternoon, at which point she walks to her favorite coffee shop, orders a venti chai, and studies at her table in her corner until seven when she goes home and starts again.

She’s accustomed to it. She likes her routine. It works, it keeps her productive and calm. But every once in a while something new happens and throws a wrench in things.

Like the smoking hot new barista at the coffee shop. She’s tall, and muscular, and whoa. Cady’s so busy staring at her gorgeous chocolate brown eyes and pretty half-dyed hair and cute full cheeks and dark purple lipstick that she doesn’t even hear the barista trying to get her attention.

“Helloooo? Can I get you something? Maybe a water? You’re looking kinda flushed,” the barista says, tilting her head.

“Oh! Sorry,” Cady says frantically, snapping back to reality. She reads the name tag pinned to the barista’s apron. Janis. A good name.

Janis smirks slightly, and dear god she has dimples. “It’s all good. What can I get ya?”

“Uh…” Cady stutters. What’s her order? “A venti… uhm…”

Janis mistakes her stuttering for her order. “Americano?” Cady nods frantically, desperate to get away from this humiliation and this incredibly attractive woman in front of her. “Coming right up. What’s your name?”

“Cady.”

“Nice name. It’ll be about five minutes,” Janis says. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Cady squeaks. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Janis smiles gently again and turns around to start making Cady’s order. Cady looks down to hide her blush, taking deep breaths to try and get her heart rate back to normal.

“Thank you,” she says when Janis hands her the cup. Her voice is still a few octaves higher than normal, but Janis just smiles and nods. Cady heads to her usual table and pulls out her book, holding it up in front of her face to hide from the world for a while.

Eventually she does calm down, and peeks over the top of her book to find Janis looking at her, almost the way one looks at a cute pet. Cady ducks back into her textbook. Get it together.

She reaches to take a sip of her drink, expecting the soothing herbal flavor of her usual tea. She splutters slightly when she gets a mouthful of boiling hot, bitter espresso instead. Cady’s never been a coffee person.

She pulls it away from her mouth to read it, expecting to see that she’s gotten the wrong order. All she finds is a messy cursive scrawl saying ‘Katie’.

Cady knows she can’t go back and ask for a new drink now, or risk saying something so embarrassing she’ll have to run back to Kenya and hide there forever.

So Cady sips slowly at her coffee, grumbling internally about both the incorrect order and the misspelling of her name. She and Janis continue sneaking little glances at one another every once in a while, but exchange nothing more than a polite smile or flustered blush.

Until it’s time for Cady to leave. She thinks she’s worked up the courage to say something to Janis on her way out. Maybe a thank you for the drink, or a little flirt. Instead, all that comes out when she turns around to see her is, “That’s not how my name is spelled.”

She’s out the door before she can hear Janis calling, “Then how is it-fine. I’ll work it out myself.”

—-

“Hey,” Janis greets when Cady comes in the next afternoon. “Same thing?”

“Uh…” Cady says. She really doesn’t want more coffee, but the words won’t come out. And if she says she hates coffee, would that just upset Janis? What if she takes it personally? And never speaks to Cady again?

So Cady just nods. Janis gives her that ridiculously unfairly adorable smile and turns around to start prepping it. This time she tries to make light conversation as she works. “Come here often?”

“Every day,” Cady says quietly. Janis raises an eyebrow.

“Really? Didn’t some boomer ever tell you to make your own coffee if you ever want to be able to afford a house?”

Cady giggles at that, and takes the paper cup when Janis passes it over. “Thanks.”

“Did I spell it right?” Janis asks, eyes wide and hopeful. Cady checks the cup to see the spelling today. ‘Katy’. She shakes her head. “Damn it. I’ll get it one day.”

Cady giggles again. “You’re closer than yesterday.”

“Hmm. Okay,” Janis hums thoughtfully. Cady smiles and heads over to her table. Janis taps her chin and murmurs, “How many ways can you spell it?”

As it turns out, rather a lot. Over the next few months, Cady sees, ‘Kati’, ‘Katii’, ‘Kaytie’, ‘Kadie’, ‘Katee’, ‘Kayty’, and one day just, ‘how. why. what.’ Janis is relentless, refusing to give up on spelling it properly but also refusing to let Cady tell her how it’s actually spelled.

—-

Cady is thrown for a loop yet again when Janis isn’t there one day. Or the next, or the next, or the next. She tries not to worry. Maybe Janis just took some time off.

Janis looks like hell when she comes back. Her hair is tied up instead of down like it normally is, and her eyes are hollow. Cady misses their usual sparkle.

Even so, she still gives a weak grin when she sees Cady come in. Cady grins back and heads over.

“Hey, Cady,” Janis sighs.

“Hey. Are you… are you okay?” Cady asks sadly. Janis purses her lips and nods.

“For now. I’m not allowed to complain on the clock,” she jokes. Cady pouts. “My girlfriend dumped me. Been moping around my apartment the last couple days.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry,” Cady says. Janis shrugs.

“It is what it is. Not my first heartbreak. You want your usual?”

“Yeah. But you should… you should make yourself something too. My treat,” Cady says. “Whatever you like best.”

Janis smiles at her thankfully. “Thanks, Cady. Uh… I dunno if this would be, like, overstepping at all, but… could I maybe hang out with you? I’m on break in, like, ten minutes.”

“Will you let me tell you how to spell my name?”

“Absolutely not.”

Cady sighs jokingly, pretending to think about it. “I suppose you could.”

“Tits. Here’s your coffee,” Janis says. Cady giggles quietly at her choice of expression and heads over to her table.

“Thanks, Janis.”

About fifteen minutes later, Cady looks up to a motion across from her. Janis is standing there, out of her work uniform for the first time Cady’s ever seen. She’s in an oversized jacket instead, and Cady realizes this is also the first time she’s ever seen Janis’ legs. She has to physically force herself to look away from the gorgeous swirly tights and at Janis’ face instead.

“Hey. Mind if I sit?”

Cady shakes her head and moves her supplies so Janis can have some room. Janis rests her iced coffee down and folds her arms on the table. She tilts her head to try to read the cover of Cady’s book upside down.

“Calculus? Woof,” she chuckles.

“That’s what most people say,” Cady replies with a giggle. “But I like it. I wouldn’t have decided to get a PhD in it if I didn’t, I guess.”

“PhD? How old are you?” Janis asks.

“Twenty-three,” Cady says. Janis raises her eyebrows. “Why?”

“You’re younger than me and already on your PhD,” Janis says. “You must be some kind of genius.”

“I don’t know about that. I just got introduced to it early. Not much to do other than study in Kenya.”

Janis chokes on a sip of her drink. “Kenya?”

“I grew up there,” Cady says, handing over a few napkins. “My parents are zoologists.”

“We need to talk more,” Janis chuckles, gratefully taking the napkins and dabbing a few drops of coffee out of her sweater. “Kenya. Man.”

Cady giggles. “I certainly wouldn’t mind talking more. What about you, though? All I know is your name.” And that you’re super hot.

“Oh, uh… not really too much to say, I guess,” Janis shrugs. “I grew up in Evanston, I’m a wannabe artist… I’m a lesbian.”

“I kinda figured,” Cady chuckles at the last one, looking Janis up and down. “I’m bi. If that… matters to you at all.”

“That’s neat,” Janis nods. “You seem cool, I’d always like to know more about you.”

“I’m cool?” Cady asks confusedly. Janis smiles and nudges her foot under their table.

“I think so. You’re definitely mysterious, you’re in here every day and I still barely know anything about you,” she says.

“Huh. I’ve never been cool before,” Cady says. “But you’re an artist? Tell me about that, I’ve never been good at art.”

“I’m trying,” Janis chuckles sardonically. “I got my bachelors in fine arts with an emphasis in painting, and I run a commissions business. But I don’t get… many. So I started working here to make ends meet.”

“Do you have anything I can see?” Cady asks kindly. Janis nods and pulls her phone out of her pocket. Her face falls when she sees her lockscreen.

“One second,” she mumbles, changing it away from a picture of what Cady can only

assume is the recently ex-girlfriend she mentioned earlier. “Here.”

“Whoa,” Cady breathes, looking at the screen. It’s a portrait of someone, but done in a variety of wild colors. “This is incredible, you’re so talented.”

“Thanks,” Janis says shyly.

“Wait, he looks familiar,” Cady says upon taking a second look.

“He works here too, that’s my friend Damian,” Janis says. “You might’ve seen him.”

“Oh yeah! He’s so nice,” Cady says. Janis chuckles and nods.

“He’s a good guy. I’ve known him since we were really young. He actually helped me get hired here.”

“I’m glad you did,” Cady says quietly. Janis smiles at her.

“I am too.”

—————

Janis and Cady continue spending time together over the next few months. Janis still hasn’t spelled Cady’s name properly, and is resorting to increasingly ridiculous attempts. Cady laughs out loud when her cup says ‘Keighdeigh’ one day.

In April, Cady’s exam season rolls around. Janis seems to pick up on her tense vibes and gives her space, but also drops by every now and again with more coffee and little snacks to keep her going. She always says they’re on the house, and smiles back at Cady’s grateful grins every time.

On a Friday, Cady is woken up by a gentle shake to her shoulder. She opens her eyes to see she’s fallen asleep in her textbook. The coffee shop is dark and empty, except for Janis.

“Hey. Uh… you seemed really tired, so I let you get some sleep, but I don’t think I should let you stay there all night,” she says sheepishly. Cady sits bolt upright and frantically checks to make sure she hasn’t been drooling everywhere.

“Oh god, I’m sorry-“

“No, hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it, it’s all good,” Janis says soothingly. “Do you have a way home?”

“I can walk, it’s fine, thank you for waking me up,” Cady says frantically, gathering her books and shoving everything in her bag.

“It’s the middle of the night in Chicago, you’re not walking,” Janis says immediately. “I’ll take you.”

“In your truck?”

“Are you saying I drive a truck just because I’m a lesbian?”

“Do you?”

“Shut up,” Janis grumbles sheepishly. Cady laughs.

“You really don’t have to,” she says. “It’s late, you should get home.”

“No offense, but you look easy to kidnap,” Janis replies. “You’re my favorite customer, I’d rather know you’re safe.”

“I guess that’s a fair point,” Cady chuckles. “Thanks, Janis.”

“Of course. This way,” Janis says, leading Cady out the employee exit towards the parking lot. Cady carefully clambers into the passenger seat of Janis’ truck when Janis opens the door for her.

“Nice,” Cady says, looking around. Janis has done little doodle murals all over the dashboard and steering wheel. It’s cozy inside, and smells slightly of pine air freshener and acrylic paint.

“Thanks. You can put your address in,” Janis says, handing her phone over. Cady taps her address into the GPS app and carefully pops it in its holder. Janis starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. “Okay, I’m ashamed to ask this, but can you give me some hints on how to spell your name?”

“Okay,” Cady giggles. “It starts with a C.”

“C! Fuck, I didn’t even think of C!” Janis yells, drumming her hands on the wheel crankily. “Okay, I’m gonna guess different spellings and you tell me if I’m right. Catie.”

“No.”

“Caty.”

“Nope.”

“Uhm… Ceightie.”

“No! My parents aren’t that crazy,” Cady laughs. “Do you want another hint?”

Janis pouts, but nods.

“Okay. It’s a D, not a T.”

“The fuck?” Janis asks. “Okay… Cadie.”

“No,” Cady giggles.

“Come on, man! Cady.”

“Yes! There you go!”

“Oh my god!” Janis grumbles in relief. “Six fucking months and it’s just Cady. So you’re a Caddy.”

“That’s how everyone reads it, yeah,” Cady nods.

“I’m gonna call you Caddy. Caddy Cat.”

“Okay. I’m gonna call you… Jay.” Cady retaliates. Janis looks at her with a little smile.

“I like it.”

They drive in silence for a while, before Cady speaks up again. She’s gotten to know Janis well over the last few months, she feels it’s safe now. “Okay, can I please tell you something?”

Janis looks at her in concern. “Yeah. Anything.”

“I… I hate coffee!” Cady confesses. “I didn’t mean to order an Americano that first day. I always drink tea but you made me nervous and now I’ve had coffee every day because I didn’t wanna make you upset!”

Janis bursts into hysterical laughter, bending over a little with the force of it. Her laugh is loud; clear and almost brash, but remarkably cute. Cady would very much like to hear more of it. “You-you don’t even like coffee? And you’ve been drinking espresso black every day just to keep me from being upset?”

“I didn’t want you to think it was your fault,” Cady defends. “I’m sure you make good coffee, I just… I hate it so much, it’s so bitter, it makes my tongue sad.”

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. What kind of tea do you usually get? I make good tea too,” Janis continues giggling.

“I usually get chai. But I like most kinds,” Cady mumbles sheepishly.

“You definitely seem like more of a tea person than a coffee person,” Janis says. “You could’ve told me.”

“You could’ve let me tell you my name,” Cady retaliates.

“Fair point,” Janis nods. She pulls into the parking lot when the robotic voice of Siri tells her to. “This it?”

“Yeah. Um… you can… come up? If you want?” Cady asks. “It’s late, you shouldn’t be driving in the dark.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You took me home, it’s the least I can do,” Cady replies. “Come on.”

Janis follows her up to her apartment and looks around. “Nice place.”

“Thanks,” Cady says as she flicks all the lights on. Her cat comes running up to say hello, before moving to investigate Janis.

“Hello,” Janis greets, offering a hand to sniff and some gentle scratches.

“That’s Simba,” Cady chuckles. “She’s not usually so social, she must like you.”

“Simba,” Janis chuckles. “You a Lion King fan?”

“Lion King?” Cady asks, tilting her head in confusion. “What’s that?”

“You’ve never seen The Lion King?” Janis asks in horror. “Where’s your TV? We need to remedy this immediately. Wait, what time is your class tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday. I don’t have class tomorrow,” Cady chuckles.

“Oh yeah. Okay, get over here,” Janis says, snatching the offered remote and signing into Damian’s Disney+ profile on it. He won’t mind. Cady sits next to her and wraps herself in her blanket, looking eagerly at the screen. Simba plops herself on Janis’ lap and apparently decides to watch the movie with them.

—-

By the end of the movie Janis has joined Cady under the blanket and they’re desperately trying to ignore the warmth of the other pressed against them.

“That was awesome!” Cady squeals as the credits roll. Janis laughs from next to her.

“I’m glad you liked it. Why’d you name her Simba if you’d never seen the movie?”

“Simba is Swahili for lion,” Cady says. Janis laughs again.

“I guess Disney isn’t as creative as we thought,” she chuckles.

“Maybe not,” Cady agrees with a chuckle. “Anyway, um… I have an extra toothbrush and stuff in there, I’ll get everything set up for you out here.”

“Thanks, Caddy,” Janis grins, scooping up Simba to bring her along to the restroom. Cady goes to the closet and pulls out her softest blankets and cushiest pillows. Janis comes back from brushing her teeth with her hair braided over her shoulder as Cady is finishing making the coziest little couch nest she can muster. Cady remembers she’ll need pajamas and runs to get a set of sweats that could almost be convinced to fit Janis.

“Man, I’ll have to come over more often if I get this treatment every time,” Janis jokes.

“You can,” Cady says quietly. “If you want to. Anytime.”

“Thanks, Cads,” Janis grins. She gasps quietly as Cady suddenly wraps her in a tight hug, but quickly returns it.

“You give nice hugs,” Cady mumbles into Janis’ shoulder.

“You can have one anytime,” Janis murmurs back, resting her chin on Cady’s head. “If you want.”

Cady nods and gives Janis a little squeeze before she lets go. “Goodnight. If you wake up and need anything you can get it or wake me up.”

Janis nods. “Okay. Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams,” Cady giggles.

—————

Cady wakes up a week later feeling awful.

Her head is pounding with a migraine, her nose is stuffed and itchy, and her throat has an irritating tickle that no amount of coughing can assuage. A check to her weather app confirms her worst suspicions. The pollen count is ridiculously high and after her with a vengeance.

“Ugh,” she grumbles crankily, forcing herself out of bed for a second. Simba still needs food, and she needs some medication. She taps out an email to her professors explaining the situation while she scoops some heinous turkey and salmon mush into her kitty’s food dish. It usually smells awful, but not being able to breathe through her nose comes with the added benefit of not being able to smell the yucky pâté.

Simba digs right in, and Cady pops out a couple of her allergy pills in the meantime. She swallows them desperately and chugs the rest of her glass of water before she trudges back to bed and tries to go back to sleep.

—-

She’s woken up a few hours later by a gentle, rhythmic knock on the door. Cady frowns. She’s not expecting anyone. Maybe she ordered a package and forgot about it again.

She’s surprised to see her friend on the other side.

“Jadis?” Cady sniffles. “Whad are you doing here?”

“You’re usually at the café every day, I wanted to check on you,” Janis says sheepishly. “I figured it must be serious if you didn’t come. You seem pretty attached to your routine.”

Cady sneezes into her elbow a few times. “Das sweed of you. But I’b okay.”

“Are you sure? You don’t look… great,” Janis replies.

“I’b allergic to pollen,” Cady explains. “Id’s really bad today.”

“Oh,” Janis says. Cady can see her relax slightly. “Well, uhm… I brought you soup, would that help at all? I figured you were either sick or sad, so… uh… it’s chicken noodle?”

“I don’ dink dat’ll do very much, but dank you,” Cady chuckles. “You can cobe in if you wand to. I mighd not be gread combany, though.”

Janis shrugs and decides she’ll come in for a little bit. She hands Cady a paper bag with the soup inside, and her usual tea from the shop. Cady grins at her and sniffles a bit.

“Dank you.”

“Of course,” Janis chuckles. She gasps when a furry being suddenly winds around her ankles. “Hello Simbie! How are you?”

Simba purrs as Janis picks her up and scratches her little forehead. Janis follows it up with a few kisses for good measure.

“Hey man, Jadis is supposed to be my best friend,” Cady pouts jokingly, joining in pampering Simba. “You liddle ham.”

Janis chuckles and follows Cady to the couch. Simba is content to stay on her lap and be pet. “I’m your best friend?”

Cady looks at her with a weak smile and nods. She takes a bite of her soup and says, “I dink so.”

“You ‘dink’?” Janis chuckles.

“Shud up,” Cady grumbles. Janis bites her lip to hold back more laughter. “Stob laughing!”

“I’m sorry!” Janis cackles. Her laugh is unfairly adorable. “Your voice is just so cute, and then you’re all congested and can’t pronounce things right, how am I supposed to not laugh?”

“You’re supposed to be nice to be,” Cady huffs with a pout. “Id’s nod fuddy!”

“Yes it is!” Janis insists, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. Cady crosses her arms and turns away crankily. “Aww, Caddy, come on. Don’t be like that, I’m sorry.”

Cady doesn’t react, just continues pouting and refusing to look at Janis. Janis pouts as well and hugs her from behind.

“Please? I’m sorry,” she coaxes. Cady gives a ‘hmph!’ and turns her head the other way. “Caddyyyyy. What can I do to make it better?”

“Stay ober,” Cady mumbles. Janis chuckles and ruffles her messy hair.

“Done. I really am sorry, I didn’t mean it to be mean,” she says. “But I’ll stay. Anything to make my Caddy feel better.”

Cady turns back around with a victorious smile. “Id’s okay. I dow you were jusd teasing.”

Janis bites her lip again and nods. Cady huffs and joins her cuddle session with Simba to watch a movie. Janis takes the opportunity to introduce her to all the princess movies Cady had missed out on.

“Dank you,” Cady sniffles after they finish Snow White. “For coming. And staying.”

“Of course,” Janis replies quietly as she pulls Cady just a little bit closer.

—————

Janis comes over more often after that, apparently having taken it upon herself to introduce Cady to every American experience she could’ve possibly missed in Kenya.

Janis also starts hanging out with Cady on her breaks more regularly. Cady is thankful for the opportunity to get to know her new best friend better. She’s also thankful that Janis seems to realize that exams aren’t a good time for chatting and just sits with her in silence, or provides warm caffeinated teas.

“Hey Cads!” Janis greets when Cady slugs her way through the door after her last exam of the season. “C’mere, I got something for you.”

Cady tilts her head and heads up to the counter. Janis passes over a cup like normal. Cady takes it and reads it, smiling when she sees the ‘Congrats on finishing hell!’ scrawled on it in Janis’ writing.

“I was fucking around with the machines earlier and came up with this, I want you to try it,” Janis says, looking at her eagerly. Cady raises a suspicious eyebrow and takes a sip.

“Whoa!” Cady says excitedly. “Jan, that’s so good!”

“I think it’s a chai oat milk latte? I’m not really sure,” Janis shrugs. “I’m glad you like it though.”

“I love it! It’s delicious,” Cady says, chugging the rest of it down. “More, I want more. Please.”

Janis laughs and takes the cup back to make her another. Cady watches in confusion as she uses her sharpie to write something else on the cup before going through the process.

“Here you are, my lady,” Janis says, giving Cady her refill. “Both on the house. As a congratulations present.”

“Thanks, Jay. Come find me on your break,” Cady giggles. Janis salutes and watches as Cady heads to her usual table and pulls out a reading book instead of a textbook this time.

Cady sips away at her delightful new beverage as she reads, feeling the stress of the last few weeks slowly dissipating. After about five chapters she remembers that Janis added something to her cup.

‘Stay ‘til closing tonight??’

She looks up and at Janis to find her looking at her hopefully. Cady nods, and Janis smiles widely. Those dimples are gonna be the death of me.

Cady continues reading for the rest of the afternoon, watching people filter in and out as they take a temporary stop in the café on whatever journey they’re on. Eventually they stop coming in, and she and Janis are left alone together.

“So what’s up?” Cady asks, packing up her things and approaching Janis at the counter.

Janis seems very nervous suddenly. “Uh… um… I was… I was gonna show you how to, uh… make the thingy. So you can do it yourself, if you-if you want?”

“Why are you so nervous?” Cady teases. “It’s just us here.” On second thought, that makes Cady a little nervous too. “That sounds fun.”

“Cool,” Janis breathes in relief. “C’mere.”

She helps Cady clamber over the counter to the other side and grabs a cup. Cady watches eagerly, excited to be near all the snazzy machines that make her favorite drinks.

Janis helps her with every step, pressed against her back and resting her chin on Cady’s shoulder. Her hands are slightly callused, but soft and warm as they hold Cady’s wrists to guide her through the motions. Cady feels herself growing more tense as the process goes on. Janis is so close she can smell the apple shampoo she uses and feel the warmth of her breath on her neck.

“There,” Janis says once they add the little dusting of nutmeg and cinnamon on top of the foam. “Nicely done.”

“I wanna do more. Show me how to make your favorite,” Cady insists. She actually just wants Janis to hold her again. “More. More more more.”

“My favorite?” Janis asks in confusion. “Why?”

“So I can make it for you!” Cady says like it’s obvious. “When-when you come over. And stuff.”

“You’re cute,” Janis chuckles. “If you insist.”

Cady nods eagerly. Janis gives her a little squeeze bottle and another empty cup. “What’s this?”

“Chocolate. Ganache, technically. Fancy syrup,” Janis explains. Cady turns to look at her and juts out her bottom lip. “You wanna try it?” Cady nods. “Okay, fine. Here. Open.”

Cady opens her mouth and giggles as Janis squeezes a bit of the chocolate into her mouth. “Mmm! Now you.”

Janis does the same, but Cady has to stand on her tippy toes to make it. Janis laughs as she misses a bit and gets some on her chin. “Almost. What do you think?”

“It’s good! I think it’d be really yummy in hot chocolate and stuff!” Cady says happily. Janis smiles and presses back against her.

“Maybe we’ll try that another day. Squeeze a bit in the bottom,” Janis says, guiding Cady’s attention back to the cup. Cady does, covering the bottom in a few inches of it and swirling it around the sides. “Beautiful.”

Cady beams, basking in the praise as Janis takes and sanitizes the top of the bottle. Probably for the best, but Cady misses the comforting pressure of Janis against her back. “Now what?”

“Now coffee,” Janis says, an eager glint in her eye. She prepares some espresso and shows Cady how to add it in. Cady follows her motions and smiles as Janis praises her. “And now some steamed milk.”

“Ooh,” Cady says. “Fancy.”

Janis laughs at that. Cady shivers slightly as the breath tickles her ear. “I usually don’t go for something this fancy. I save it for special occasions.”

“Oh,” Cady squeaks. She’s a special occasion?

“If you want me to fall in love with you add a bit of cinnamon,” Janis murmurs. Cady flushes harder, but Janis doesn’t seem to notice. “Ahem. Anyway, uh… just stir the coffee and chocolate together a little bit and then pour the milk on top.”

Cady does, guided by Janis’ hands like a little puppet. She puts the lid on herself and hands it to Janis to test.

“Perfect,” Janis grins. She holds her cup aloft, and Cady scrambles to grab hers. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Cady giggles. They both take a large gulp of their respective drinks. “You have a milk mustache.”

Janis crosses her eyes to see it, jutting her lips out in a pout. Cady steps a bit closer, unintentionally pinning Janis against the counter.

“Mind if I get rid of it?” she murmurs, leaning in a bit. Janis has plenty of room to get away if she wants to, but she seems lost in Cady.

“Not at all,” Janis whispers back, so Cady leans in.

Kissing Janis is everything she dreamed it would be and more. Her lips are soft, pillowy, and Cady finds herself really not caring if she smears Janis’ waxy purple lipstick everywhere. Janis tips her head slightly to get a better angle, resting one hand on Cady’s hip and gently cupping her neck with the other. Cady threads her arms around Janis’ waist and rests her hands on the counter behind her, so Janis is totally pinned.

Janis hesitantly swipes her tongue at Cady’s lips, so Cady gently parts them. She can feel Janis’ quiet purr of contentment brush against her cheek as she pulls her closer. Janis tastes like coffee, and chocolate, and something else that Cady can only describe as home.

“Whoa,” Janis whispers when they finally break apart. Cady giggles softly against her lips. “You taste like tea.”

“You taste like coffee,” Cady retaliates quietly, shifting her hands to wind around Janis’ neck and gently playing with the wispy hairs at the nape of it. “I kinda like it.”

“Do you now?” Janis hums with a chuckle, tipping her head down slightly and pressing her forehead against Cady’s. “Thought you hated coffee.”

“You make it nice,” Cady murmurs, staring into Janis’ coffee-brown eyes. “Special.”

“You said I made you nervous when we first met,” Janis says. “Wouldn’t have anything at all to do with this situation?”

“Mayhaps it did,” Cady mumbles embarrassedly. “Not my fault you have dimples. Or that you’re tall and muscular and wear purple lipstick and make really good tea and smell like vanilla and give good hugs and take me home so I don’t get kidnapped and are generally just a really attractive person.”

“Aww, you had a crush on me?” Janis teases.

“Shut up.”

“Takes one to know one,” Janis replies kindly. Cady looks at her in shock.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t invite all my customers to stay after hours and show them how to make tasty drinks. Or drive them home. Or sleep over at their cute apartment with their cat curled up on my belly.”

“Oh.” Cady says. “Well, this worked out nicely.”

“It sure did,” Janis hums. “Now, do you mind if I get another little taste of your tea?”

“Not at all,” Cady purrs, leaning up to press their lips together again.

————-

Cady is oddly nervous to enter the coffee shop the next day. She’s excited too, but anxious as to how her… friend? Girlfriend? What are they now? Will respond to her after the events of last night.

“Hey, my little coffee bean,” Janis greets when she comes in. Cady flushes, but is luckily the only person present, so she finds herself not really minding.

“Coffee bean?”

“I like coffee a lot, I like you a lot,” Janis replies, leaning on her elbows on the counter between them. “Felt appropriate. Here’s your tea.”

Cady takes it, but the writing on it catches her eye. She turns the cup around slightly to see what it says.

‘Girlfriend??? Maybe?? (please?)’

Cady snaps her head to look at her and is met with Janis’ anxious but adorable half-smile. She rests the cup down and vaults herself over the counter, grabbing Janis’ face and pulling her down into a hungry kiss.

“Yes,” Cady breathes when they finally break apart. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Tits,” Janis hums, gently scooping Cady off the ground and resting her on the counter so they’re at almost the same level.

“What if someone comes in?” Cady asks anxiously as Janis holds her around the waist, hands dangerously close to her bum.

“Look at the door, little bean,” Janis chuckles. Cady does, and finds the open sign to be facing her. The shop is closed? “Nobody’s coming.”

“Am I allowed to be here?”

“Eh,” Janis shrugs. “I’ve given enough of my time to this place, and you’re a trusted customer. I think they owe both of us a few favors.”

“Works for me,” Cady says, winding her arms around Janis’ neck and smiling down at her. “You’re really pretty.”

“Thanks,” Janis chuckles, pecking Cady’s lips. “You’re pretty too. I kinda really like you.”

“I kinda really like you too.”

————-

“Hi, baby,” Janis greets as Cady enters the café a few months later. Cady takes her usual cup and leans in for a kiss.

“Hi, mpenzi,” she replies. She lingers against her lips for a brief moment. “Are you closing tonight?” Janis nods. “Can I stay with you?” Another nod. “Okay. Have fun.”

Janis chuckles and waves her off with one more peck. Cady smiles and sits at her table with her book.

“What are you scheming, my coffee bean?” Janis asks once the last customer has left and she’s wiping down the countertop. Cady heads around and tenderly removes her apron. Janis smiles but looks confused as Cady pulls it over her own head and ties it behind her back.

“I want to treat you,” Cady replies. “Make you the coffee for once.”

“Alright,” Janis hums. “Do you want me to-“

“No, I got it,” Cady insists, batting Janis’ hands away and trying to remember how to make her favorite. Janis chuckles and continues her closing tasks.

“Okay, okay,” she says, grabbing a mop and heading to clean the floor. “Let me know if you need help.”

“I can do it,” Cady says confidently. She takes the bottle of chocolate and squeezes the proper amount in, plus a little bit extra since her girlfriend loves chocolate. Janis said something while she was teaching her to make this drink that she wants to put to the test. Once the coffee and steamed milk are added, she tops it with whipped cream and calls Janis over. “Okay, come taste.”

Janis returns to her girlfriend, pulling her in for a sweet kiss before she takes the offered cup and tries a sip. “It’s good! Nice job.”

Cady doesn’t say anything, just continues watching to see if she notices the changes. Janis looks back at her and tastes it again.

“You put cinnamon in it,” Janis notices this time. “It’s nice! I like it.”

Cady nods and winds her arms gently around Janis’ neck. Janis tips her head down for a kiss, letting Cady taste the bitter coffee off her lips, mellowed by the sweet chocolate and spice of the cinnamon. “Do you remember what you told me? When you first taught me how to make it?”

Janis thinks back, trying to remember the evening. She remembers being anxious but absolutely loving being pressed against Cady, guiding her small hands around and feeling her comforting weight against her chest. “Uh…”

It hits her suddenly.

“If you want me to fall in love with you add a bit of cinnamon.”

Janis’ eyebrows shoot up her forehead. Cady grins at her. “Did it work?” Janis is silent for a long moment, just blinking at her girlfriend in shock. Cady’s smile fades. Is it too soon? “Janis?”

Janis just cups her jaw and pulls her forwards, slamming her lips against Cady’s so hard she thinks they might bruise. Janis holds her so close, so tight, but so gently.

“Yes,” she whispers when they finally have to separate. “Yes, it worked.”

“Say it?” Cady requests just as quietly.

“I love you,” Janis murmurs, stroking her thumbs over Cady’s cheeks. Cady’s smile returns full force. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” Cady replies happily. “So much.”

She presses back in again, conveying their new confession without words. Janis happily returns the affections and picks up her girlfriend to level the playing field. Cady squeals happily and clings to her, winding her arms around her neck and pressing somehow closer. Janis steps back until she hits the counter, leaning against it for support as she loses herself in the taste and feeling of her love.

“I think we can continue this better elsewhere,” Cady husks once they pull apart again. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Janis flushes a truly spectacular shade of scarlet and nods furiously. Cady smirks and kisses her again.

“Then take me home, my love.”

————-

three years later

“Hey, baby,” Janis greets as she returns home from running some errands.

“Hi, my love,” Cady smiles from her spot on the couch.

“I got your tea from our place,” Janis says, handing over a cup. She doesn’t work there anymore, now that she makes enough in commissions to support herself and has Cady to rely on, but it’ll always be a special place to them.

“Thank you,” Cady says, tipping her head up for a kiss. Janis bends over upside down to kiss her sweetly before she pulls away. Cady goes to take a sip without looking at her drink, but clacks her teeth against something that isn’t meant to be there. “Ouch.”

She pulls it away in confusion, and is stunned to see a ring sticking out of the hole in the lid. She turns the cup to read it, and gasps when it says, ‘Wife?’

“Caddy,” Janis murmurs next to her, and Cady gasps again when she sees her on one knee. Janis takes one of her hands, leaving the other for Cady to clap over her mouth to muffle her delighted sobs. “I knew the first day I saw you that you were something special. And now that I’ve gotten to know you, and learn you, and love you, I know that was an understatement. Getting that shitty job is the best thing that ever happened to me, because it gave me you. You’re the chai to my Americano. My sweet little coffee bean. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Cady sobs, resting the cup on the coffee table and pitching herself at Janis. Janis laughs happily as she’s knocked to the rug and covered in kisses. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my little bean,” Janis chuckles. “So much.”

Thank god for coffee.

---

thanks for reading!!

there may or may not be a new chapter next week, I'm still undecided. I'm working through some things irl that make writing tricky (i am fine, please don't worry!) but i do have a chapter almost done that i can finish and publish, so i may do that. TBD!! sorry!

anyway, thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed!!

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical #mean girls on broadway

18 notes · View notes

frostedfaves · 4 years

Text

Haunt (2)

Masterlist

Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Getting to know you brings a few ‘firsts’ for Wanda.

Warnings: brief alcohol mention, tiny bit of angst

A/N: click on the link at the end of the masterlist to add yourself to the taglist! and tell me what you think!

Previous part

“Honey, I’m home,” Pietro called loudly as he locked the front door behind himself, smiling as Wanda appeared from the kitchen. “There you are, rybka. Smells good in there.”

“As it always does,” Wanda playfully bragged as she pulled her brother into a hug, sniffing his shirt as he pulled away. “Why do you smell so good?”

“Because I had a date earlier. Don’t give me that look.”

“What? I didn’t give you any look,” she mumbled as she attempted to quickly bring a sense of nonchalance to her expression. “I just worry.”

“You don’t have to--”

“Pietro, your last girlfriend was a nightmare. I have a right to be worried.”

“Well, you can relax this time,” he assured her as he followed her into the kitchen to wash his hands. “Usually things don’t go so well with girls that have posters of me in their rooms, but I have a good feeling. She travels for work almost as much as I do, but she lives really close to here. I can visit you both on the same day if I need to.”

“Wait…” Wanda paused to think as Pietro grabbed two plates from the cabinet. “Does she have a roommate?”

“Yeah, her name is Y/N, I think. You know her?”

“I do now. We met about an hour ago.” A smile formed on her lips as she began plating the food she made, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. “Why are you giving me a look right now?”

“Nothing, just been awhile since I’ve seen my baby sister with a crush.”

“You’re only twelve minutes older than me,” she argued with a scowl and Pietro laughed.

“I see you’re not denying that crush, though.”

“You can enjoy someone’s presence without being attracted to them.”

“Maybe, but you definitely have a crush.” He caught her hand with a grin as it flew toward his chest. “Come on, rybka. Just admit it.”

“Fine, I think she’s gorgeous. Happy?”

“I will be when you start dating,” he teased as she pulled her hand away.

“There won’t be a date. I mean she’s coming here tomorrow to hang out, but I don’t think she sees me like that.”

“Then she sucks,” he affirmed, groaning when her elbow bumped his side harshly. “She’s not even your girlfriend yet and you’re already super overprotective.”

He ran back into the kitchen to grab the wine and glasses before she could hit him again, giving her a bit of time to fantasize about a world where you were her girlfriend. She’d never tell Pietro just how great that sounded to her.

Wanda gasped as the doorbell went off, nearly knocking over the 3-tier cooling rack full of cookies on her race to the front door. She paused in the hallway to fix any hairs that flew out of place in her rush and took a deep breath before opening the door with a smile. You were standing on her porch wearing a different hoodie from yesterday and jeans instead of sweatpants, but every bit of the face she’d been thinking of in the past 16 hours was the same, and she couldn’t help but think that nothing could’ve prepared her for being this close to you again.

“Are you going to let me in or just stare?” you teased with a slightly shaky laugh, and Wanda wasn’t sure if she was blushing because she was caught or because she was already so enchanted with every little action of yours.

“Sorry, sorry.” She stepped aside as you walked in and locked the door behind you. “I’m not usually this weird, I promise.”

“I’m sure you are, and that’s okay because I like it.”

Wanda was sure (if the tension surrounding her grinning mouth was any indication) that her face would split open at any moment. You hadn’t even been here more than a full minute and she felt a warmth growing inside her chest that hadn’t made an appearance in quite some time. She wondered if it was too soon to admit that to you, but Alexei tiptoed into the room before she could decide.

“Hey, it’s your cute dog!” You were on your knees in seconds greeting the corgi that happily trotted over to you.

“Yes, this is Alexei, which basically means ‘defender’.”

“I feel like you call him that ironically, but I think I can see this tiny baby taking out some bad guys,” you quipped as you glanced at her from the floor, turning back to Alexei as you scratched lightly along his jaw. “What do you think?”

Wanda joined you in giving her furry son some love for another minute or so before he grew tired of the attention and walked off, leaving the two of you alone again. A few seconds of awkward silence passed before she offered you a tour of her home. She led you through the living room into the dining room, showing you where the bathroom was and briefly gesturing toward her bedroom, trying her hardest not to make such a big deal of doing so. Once you made it back around to the kitchen, she took you through the back door to her yard.

“And this is my garden!”

“I’m surprised you don’t grow your own vegetables, too,” you told her as you checked out the variation of flowers growing in a line, quickly adding “You seemed to know so much about it yesterday.”

“There’s this market I go to sometimes, and the elderly woman that sells vegetables there is always sharing tips with me. I could take you one day, if you’d like,” Wanda offered as she cast a nervous look your way, relaxing a bit when you smiled and nodded.

“I would like that a lot.”

You made your way back inside and Wanda gave you the freedom to pick anything from her movie collection under the television while she set up a tray with cookies and bowls of popcorn and chips. She watched you slide a disc into the DVD player from the corner of her eye as she placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“What’d you pick?”

“Tangled,” you answered simply as you grabbed the remote and took a seat. “It’s wholesome.”

You pressed play as Wanda returned with two glasses and a pitcher of water, and she sat at what she hoped was a respectable distance. The part of her that wanted to pretend that she hadn’t seen this movie thousands of times was quickly overpowered by the part that wanted to sing along, quietly at first during “When Will My Life Begin” and a little louder and more enthusiastic with “I’ve Got A Dream”.

“Am I that bad?” she joked when she noticed you watching her and you shook your head quickly.

“No, you’re not bad at all! You just have such a soothing voice. It’s kind of hard not to lose myself in it.”

“Oh...thank you.”

You faced the television again and Wanda took that as a cue to turn back to the movie too, but her focus was still on you. The last time she’d watched Tangled was with her ex-girlfriend, who complained every time she uttered a single note, but you almost seemed to encourage it with your attentive gaze. She found herself shaking her head a bit in an attempt to clear those thoughts, not wanting to compare you to someone else when she barely knew you.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized as you paused the movie, causing Wanda to look at you as you faced her once more. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No! No, I’m not uncomfortable, just surprised is all. You’re the first person to show appreciation of me singing during a movie...I mean, Pietro likes my singing, but he’s known me since birth, so the novelty’s kind of worn off.”

“Well, you sound incredible. The kids at your school are so lucky to--”

“Can I kiss you?” Her eyes widened as she scooted over a bit on the couch to give you more space. “I’m so sorry I said that! I’ve just been staring at your lips for the past minute and I swear I was listening, but I couldn’t stop thinking--”

“I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

The sight of your reassuring expression was all the encouragement Wanda needed to pull herself close enough that your thighs were touching, and her hand went for your jaw as she leaned in, internally cheering as you did the same. Your lips met in a gentle fashion, but Wanda couldn’t help her greed as she pressed herself into you more. She felt the tip of your tongue and opened her mouth without any thought, quickly losing herself in your touch as her hand slid toward the base of your neck while the other grabbed a fistful of your hoodie.

You yanked yourself out of her hold as she was about to slide her hand under the fabric covering your back, and Wanda jumped back in shock, torn between keeping her distance and placing a hand on your thigh to calm you when you began gasping for air a bit.

“Is everything okay? Did I go too far?”

“No, you didn’t. That was all me,” you assured her breathlessly. “I, um, just thought of something and kind of freaked myself out. Terrible timing, I know. I also know that was pretty weird so I can leave if you want.”

“I was just scared that I’d done something wrong.” Wanda placed her hands carefully over yours with a soft smile. “I think we’ve had our fair share of weirdness to the point of it not being a deal breaker anymore.”

“Okay.” You sighed and shifted your hands to grab yours. “I’m just worried that we’ll start something here that you won’t want to finish, and I know that can happen with anyone in any kind of situation, but I…Can you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise me that you’ll walk away the moment my baggage becomes too heavy. I don’t want you to try sticking it out for my sake and end up hating me.”

“I wouldn’t stay just for your sake--”

“I asked you to promise me something and you responded ‘anything’ with zero hesitation, and you’ve known me for only a day,” you quickly reminded her. “I have a right to be worried.”

Your words took her back to last night, which took her even further back to the reason she said the exact same thing to Pietro. She finds it incredibly easy to discover those red flags most people seem to hold, but always struggles to leave and ends up hating herself for it more than those that deserve it. So despite the lack of warning signs with you, she decides to give in.

“I promise.”

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @cristin-rjd @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @creepingwolfberry @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly @thedragonzland @dylxn-lee @cordeliaswhore

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #avengers #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader

135 notes · View notes

tothemeadow · 4 years

Text

~*ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ OᑎE*~

warnings: alcohol consumption, oral sex

words: 2.8k

Prologue

Perhaps you should’ve have taken Daki more seriously. After that fateful night at the so-called gathering, she’s become adamant on getting you hooked onto the luxurious life. Frankly, you thought the rest of the night was a bore, watching rich people mill about, talking to each other about issues that you could wish to understand. The only thing that really kept you going was the company of your best friend and the delicious edibles set on the many tables.

Time and time again, Daki brought up the encounter you had with Idris’ friends – could they even be called that? She gushed about how handsome Rengoku Kyojuro was, how darling it would be to hang off his arm. You noticed the suggestive hint to her tone; you knew exactly where her train of thoughts was going, and you’d be damned if she acted upon them.

In fact, you’re entirely positive that she’s planning on whisking you into her lifestyle. Even now, as you sit in some one-roomed, slinky club, she taps a manicured finger against her chin. The place itself is dripping with wealth, from the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the clusters of velvet chairs, right down to the mahogany bar you sit at. You don’t have the slightest clue how Daki knows of a place like this, but – judging from the few other patrons acquainting the place – it’s meant for those types of meetings. You have the slightest inkling that this is where she met Idris in the first place.

Glancing over at her, you can understand why Idris was drawn to her in the first place; of course, Daki has always been insanely beautiful, but her sense of fashion is impeccable. Combined with her short skirt and the thick platforms on her feet, her legs are long, soft. She looks like she just came off straight off a runway; she might as well have, if the big Chanel logo on her beret hints at anything. She’s perfect sugar baby material, and you’d be lying if you’d say you didn’t respect her for pulling off such a feat.

“Mitsuri really liked you,” Daki’s saying. You snap back to attention, mentally cursing yourself out for getting lost in your thoughts. “She thinks you’re really pretty, too.”

Ah, Kanroji Mitsuri: renowned fashion designer and easily one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever met. Her welcoming, bubbly personality had definitely struck a chord inside you, and you were more than thankful that she had been so nice. Hearing something like that, though… Well…

Staring down at your wine, you swirl the deep red fluid around in your glass. “She’s just being nice,” you say, deflecting the compliment. You didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing.

Rolling her eyes, Daki pops a grape into her mouth and waggles a finger at you. “Listen here, darling; Kanroji Mitsuri thinks you’re pretty. I wouldn’t take that so lightly.”

“You’re also drop dead gorgeous,” you shoot right back. “Of course you wouldn’t take it so lightly.”

“You’re missing the point,” Daki says with a sigh. “An insanely hot and rich woman – who has a great personality, by the way – is interested in you. By the way you two were talking at the gathering, it’s almost like you two have known each other forever.”

Deciding to take the bait, you set your wineglass down and turn towards her. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Go on a date with her, obviously. I know Mitsuri will treat you right. And, if the night ends well…” Trailing off, she follows up with a giggle. “We’d be sugar sisters.”

“Come again?”

“Oh, come on, (y/n)! Think about how much fun it’ll be! Mitsuri will spoil you rotten and you’ll have mind-blowing sex.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the unexpected confession. Wait, did that mean…?

Daki flashes you a sly look. “What, you don’t think I only like men, do you? I may have fucked around with Mitsuri once or twice… But it was only a physical attraction, nothing more. Sometimes you just need to get with a woman.”

Embarrassment crawls up your neck at the mere idea of Daki and Mitsuri engaging in certain… activities. Warmth floods your system; you should be ashamed of thinking of your friend like that, but she did just tell you something you particularly didn’t want to know. And, truth be told, you are growing the slightest bit curious as to how Mitsuri’s like in bed…

A smirk pulls at the corners of Daki’s pretty mouth. She obviously knows what’s going on in your head – the two of you have been friends long enough for it to be second nature at this point. However, it still catches you by surprise as she fishes out a little piece of paper and slides it across the bar to you. “Since you’re clearly thinking about it, have her number,” she purrs. “I don’t think you’ll regret giving her a call.”

Taking the paper into your hands, you examine the neat, curly writing. You can imagine Mitsuri writing down the number, a flattering smile on her face. Your heart nearly skips a beat; did she really feel attracted to you? It’s just that, well, somebody at her social standing would usually stick to someone in the same group. You’re nowhere near it, so to have something like this happen… It’s kind of incredible.

You sigh. “Fuck it. I’ll call her.”

Daki eagerly claps her hands. “That’s my girl!”

On second thought, you might be regretting your decision.

Around you, the delicate clank of crystal glasses and fine platters intermingle with the soothing piano music. Other patrons talk amongst themselves, the slight murmur of dozens of voices reminding you of a hoard of bees. Some call out to the waiters passing by, wanting them to refill their glasses or get the check.

The dim, golden light makes the place ethereal, a heavenly glow surrounding everyone’s heads. Your hands glide over the spotless tablecloth, the pristine white of it practically mocking you. Jeez, if a single drop of wine spills on it, they’d probably just throw it away. Damn rich people and their ways – the mere idea of how much this tablecloth costs has your head spinning.

“You don’t have to look so scared,” Mitsuri says. “Believe it or not, but everyone here is just like you.”

You nearly scoff at that. You want to tell her that no, nobody is like you. You’re not rich and swanky, not by a long shot. Besides, this is Kanroji Mitsuri you’re speaking to. She’s part of this crowd; and since she’s a renowned fashion designer with a fairly large following, she’s practically a celebrity.

“I find that hard to believe,” you mutter. Picking up your glass, you take a careful sip of water, not wanting to cause a spill and embarrass yourself.

It’s not helping your nerves in the slightest that Mitsuri looks the way she does; hair pulled into a high ponytail, a slinky dress with a plunging neckline, dangling earrings that reflect the soft golden light. You don’t want to be disrespectful and stare at her pure, creamy skin, but it’s so hard. She’s downright beautiful – breathtaking, even – and it’s a challenge to keep your head on straight.

Her green eyes practically light up at your comment, a light giggle passing through her plump lips. “Everyone feels the pressure, you know. The need to keep up a perfect façade. It’s a shame, really, how so many people in this room wear a mask constantly.” She sighs, then, leaning forward and perching an elbow on the table and resting her chin in her palm. “I’ll be truthful, darling. The very first moment I met you, I knew you’d be different. You’re not some stuck-up corporate brat who’s too deep in their own shit to know right from left anymore. It’s refreshing.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. She hit the nail right on the head; sure, the upper class are usually depicted as being entitled assholes, but to hear it from Mitsuri? That’s just gold. She joins in on your laughter, the sweet, tinkling sound gracing your ears. It’s actually incredible how comfortable you feel around her, despite only knowing her for a couple of days.

“Plus,” Mitsuri continues, her laughter dying down, “I think you’re really cute.”

Scoffing, you try to downplay the excited fluttering in your heart. She’s almost been gushing about how nice you look all night, how much of a pleasantry it was that Daki introduced the two of you. Even better, she was so freaking ecstatic that you called her. Okay, yeah, so maybe you’re interested in Mitsuri. Who wouldn’t be? With the personality of a puppy and the looks of a supermodel, how could anyone say no to her?

“Now you’re just spoiling me,” you tell her.

“What can I say?” Mitsuri replies, voice smooth. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

Shock floods your system, sucks almost all the air from your lungs. Jaw dropping, you gape at her, completely at a loss for words. It doesn’t matter, though; your waiter comes back with the meals the two of you’ve ordered, placing them down gently on the table and busying himself with pouring glasses of wine.

“Enjoy the meal, ladies,” he says, his thick accent flooding his words. With a polite bow, he takes his departure, stepping away with quick, precise movements.

Staring down at the food you ordered, your mouth begins to water. Even though you aren’t the biggest fan of these damned rich people, you’ve got to admit that you’re jealous of the things they eat. Like, look at this! This is something King Midas would eat himself!

“It’s almost as if you’ve never eaten before,” Mitsuri says along with another adorable giggle. “If that’s your reaction, then I’m going to have to take you to every high-end restaurant in town!”

“What? No! Mitsuri, you don’t have to do that!” you ramble. “It’s just… Well…”

“Oh, come on. I want to.” Mitsuri pauses, then, picking up her glass with slender fingers and taking a sip of her wine. “I agree with Daki, you know,” she continues, “I think the two of us could have a lot of fun together.”

“…I’m afraid I don’t understand…?”

Mitsuri casts a devious smile over the rim of her glass at you. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll find out soon enough.”

If you can recall it correctly, there’s a saying that would fit perfectly into this moment – blame it on the alcohol. Oh, but you’re not stupid. No, you at least have the guts to own up to your actions, as great or as stupid as they can be. That being said, you don’t want to admit to how desperate you’re feeling.

You didn’t doubt Daki for a single moment. As kind as she is beautiful, Mitsuri is the perfect package. She only managed to prove that point over and over again throughout the evening, swapping stories and genuinely taking the time to get to know you better. You still can’t believe she’s taken so much interest in you, but you aren’t going to complain about it any time soon. In fact, you’re glad that she’s into you.

Perhaps it was your tipsy mind that made you say yes; that’s what you want to believe, anyway. You don’t want to own up to the fact that you practically jumped at the opportunity of Mitsuri taking you home, to some swanky penthouse in one of the richest parts of the city. You barely had any time to gawk at the immaculate décor or overpriced furniture; no, what you got was a short tour as Mitsuri drug you off towards her bedroom.

The moments from there on out became nothing more than a blur. Clothing being slipped off, hands roaming over bare skin, the delicious heat of Mitsuri’s mouth. Your mind is still reeling from the turn of events, but you don’t have a single chance to think about it.

Heavy pants break through your lips, grace the still air in Mitsuri’s bedroom. The mattress is large, unforgivably so, topped with some of the softest blankets you’ve ever felt. Settled between your open legs, Mitsuri looks nothing short of perfection; long ponytail clutched in your grasp, her full eyelashes fluttering, the prettiest of blushes on her face, she’s a remarkable piece of art, reserved for your eyes only. The sounds spilling from between your legs is utterly sinful. Her lips and tongue eagerly work away at your sopping cunt, break down your walls until you’re a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Mitsuri,” you breathe, voice turning shrill towards the end. “That feels so good.”

Mitsuri moans at the praise, her manicured nails digging into the plush flesh of your thighs. Arching her back even more, you’re presented with a better view of her godly ass, the defined dimples on her back. She’s too gorgeous to handle, too fucking sexy. Giving her ponytail a yank, you relish in the pleased hum vibrating in the back of her throat.

“Naughty girl,” Misturi purrs as she pulls away. A mix of slick and smeared lipstick cover her lips, the lewd shine making your insides tighten. “I didn’t say you could do that, now did I?” The mere controlling tone of her voice causes another fat drop of slick to push its way out of your pussy. Eyes locking onto the sight, Mitsuri cracks a salacious smile. “Does baby girl like being talked down to?”

“Don’t… Don’t say it like that,” you whimper.

“I’m just speaking the truth,” Mitsuri purrs. “It’s not my fault this pretty little pussy likes it.” With her words, she traces a finger up and down your slit, collecting even more slick. Waggling the coated finger in your vision, she makes sure your eyes are on her before she slips it into her mouth, her swollen lips wrapping around it. “So tasty,” she moans. “So fucking sweet. You’re a real treat, you know that? It’s a shame Daki didn’t introduce us earlier.”

“Mitsuri-“

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t call me that,” she warns, the honey in her voice turning into something darker, heavier. You swallow thickly. “If you don’t mind, sweets… Call me Mommy. That is, unless you don’t want to cum? That works too.”

Oh, god, with an expression like that and her fingers playing with your sex, you’ll call her anything. “Mommy,” you murmur, “please.”

“Hmmm… What was that?”

Clenching the blankets between your fingers, you call out louder, “Mommy, please!” A loud gasp bursts from your throat, then, as Misturi shoves three fingers into you with no hesitation whatsoever. Her mouth descends on your clit once more, a pleased hum escaping her mouth at your sweet, sweet taste. Your hips buck into her wildly, your back arching off the mattress.

Mind clearing, vision turning fuzzy, your orgasm crashes over, your slick spilling all over her fingers and onto the blankets below. Mitsuri chuckles at that, seemingly pleased with both herself and your reaction. She keeps pressing on, though, her mouth and fingers working you through a second orgasm, and then a third. She’s relentless in her quest to make you cum over and over again, leaving you a shaking, crying mess of overstimulated nerves.

“Oh baby,” Mitsuri purrs once she pulls her mouth away. “You’re such a good girl to me, aren’t you? I’ll groom you real nice, shape you into something utterly perfect,” she continues, leaning in close and brushing her lips against your ear. “You’ll let me, won’t you? Come on, baby, let’s have some fun.” Shuffling up your body, she perches herself over your face, thick thighs encasing your head. “Be a darling and help me out, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mommy,” you coo. “Yes.”

In the end, Daki got what she wanted – a sugar sister.

Granted, you weren’t super eager to jump on the opportunity at first, but after some convincing from Mitsuri, you figured why not? As long as it’s with Mitsuri, there’s no harm, really. Plus, if you’re going to continue having incredible nights with her… Hell, of course you’re gonna agree!

“So, how did the date go?” Kyojuro’s voice rings through the phone. He sounds a bit too eager to hear the fine, juicy details.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mitsuri teases. Sitting comfortably next to you in bed, she scans her eyes of your sleeping form, at your bare arms and shoulders unhidden from the blankets. She smiles. “It went great, actually,” she says, voice gentle. “(y/n)’s incredible.”

“She’s a looker, too,” Kyojuro says. Even though Mitsuri can’t see him, she knows he’s smirking. “Real beauty.”

“Heh. It almost sounds like you want me to share her.”

Kyojuro huffs in amusement. “Now that sounds like a good idea. Even Tengen wouldn’t shut up about her after she left. Maybe if you’re feeling generous…?”

Running her fingers over your smooth skin, Mitsuri bites her lip. “…Maybe. If she wants to be shared, that’s up to her. Either way…” she trails off, gives a light giggle. “She’s great in bed.”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny pillars #kny pillars x reader #kny hashira #kny hashira x reader #diamonds are a girl's best friend series

213 notes · View notes