#silence in the library do i even need to say it

[nottsbitch]

You Know - L.B.

summary: Finally confronting Enzo

contains smut

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It had been a week since you found out about Enzo, and that was the last time that he had visited you.

You figured it was because he was busy or maybe he realized what he was doing was weird. But in reality, he knew that you knew, as soon as he caught you staring at him he knew. You never gave him the time of day now he felt your eyes on him every time you were in the same room which could only mean one thing. You knew.

He took that as his sign to back off until things blew over. So now as he sat in the back corner of the library he couldn't help himself as his thoughts drifted to you. He missed seeing you of course but didn't want to risk things.

As he sat in his daydream about you, he was completely oblivious to you talking to his friends.

"I just need to know where he is Riddle." You rolled your eyes realizing that your conversation with Matteo and Theo was currently going nowhere.

"What could you possibly want with our sweet little Enzo?" This came from Theo.

Both of the men in front of you were shocked that you were looking for Enzo. To their knowledge, the two of you had never spoken a word to each other and now you were basically begging for his location.

"I need to talk to him" They could tell you were getting more and more annoyed the longer you stood there.

"Last time I saw him he was going to the library. Don't sneak up on him he might faint when he realizes it's you." Both boys had known about their friend's longtime crush on you and smirked as you stomped away from them.

You were quick in the halls not giving yourself any time to think about what you were going to say when you reached him, which was quicker than you thought.

Before you knew it you were stopped in front of him "What is wrong with you?"

Enzo stuck in his own thoughts didn't notice you until you opened your mouth "Excuse me?" You could see the twinkle in his eye as he held back his smirk.

"I know what you were doing, all of a sudden I catch you in the act then you disappear. You are nowhere to be found, won't even look in my direction, and I feel like I'm losing my mind." At this point, he couldn't hold back the smile on his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The fake curiosity was genuine in his voice.

At this moment it felt like your body and your mind were wanting two different things, and before you even realized you had moved you were in the seat so close to the man next to you he could feel your breath on his cheek.

Leaning into his ear you whispered "Cut the bullshit, Enzo"

"All I'm hearing right now is that you're desperate for attention." If he wanted to play this game you weren't going to make it easy on him.

You put on your most innocent face before looking him in the eyes "Only if it's coming from you."

Though he thought he was doing a good job at keeping his poker face you could see right through him. You knew you were effecting him as much as he was effecting you making it just as easy for you to get into his head.

"So this is okay?" He whispered as his hand found its way to your thigh, causing you to momentarily forget why this conversation even started.

As his hand moved up your thigh you were confused by the fact that his head went back down to his book pretending to focus on whatever he was doing before you got there. With an innocent look on his face, it contrasted the fact that things didn't stay innocent for long.

He leaned into you, his other arm tightening on your waist as he used you to pull your chair closer to his.

You still hadn't responded to him instead choosing silence waiting to see how far this would actually go. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, letting your eyelids flutter as he brought his lips to your neck.

"Lost your words?" He paused his assault on your neck to whisper in your ear, Causing you to move your hand to his thigh giving it a warning squeeze.

You still felt his breath on your skin causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. Enzo knew what he was doing of course and he was loving the reaction he was getting.

You felt your walls coming down by each second the teasing continued. You chose this. moment to look into his eyes noticing how dark they had gotten. You were fucked.

He smirked, his lips finding their way back to your ear "You gotta stay quiet."

His words sent shivers down your spine, as his hand started to massage your inner thigh, his fingertips getting awfully close to where you wanted them most but not giving you that satisfaction.

You let out a breath and adjust yourself, spreading your legs even wider. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Enzo smirk as he squeezed your thigh hard, before finally moving his hand. He started off slow, his hands teasing you over your underwear.

At this point, you had forgotten where you were. Enzo had snuck his fingers underneath your underwear now and was circling them on your clit. You were biting down on your lip trying to hold back a moan at the sudden wave of pleasure, of course Enzo noticed.

"Not a sound." He whispered making you even more aroused. He started increasing his pace, making your hips start to grind softly against him. You were soaked now and this was only more encouragement for Enzo.

You had dug your nails into his thigh and buried your head in his shoulder, hoping it would muffle the sounds you couldn't hold in any longer. His head had leaned against yours, and at the same time, he pushed a finger inside of you, curving it up to hit your g-spot.

Your mouth fell open, and you groaned against his neck as he slid his finger in and out of you. The rush of being caught was turning you on even more. You felt another wave of pleasure run through you that only intensified as he added another finger.

His eyes had not left your face once, enjoying the effect he was having on you. He watched as your eyes closed when he pushed even deeper inside of you.

Your legs had started to twitch and you were biting your tongue hoping to stay quiet on the brink of your orgasm. He brought his ear down your face so he could hear you say the words.

"I'm close." He pulled his face away and looked into your eyes, a smug look on his face as he slowed down his fingers until he came to a complete stop.

"Remember who has the upper hand here."

You couldn't stop your jaw from dropping as you watched him pack up his things as if nothing had happened.

"I'll see you soon." Turning and leaving before you could get a single word out.

"What just happened?" You said to no one except yourself trying to wrap your head around if this was a dream or not, but the wetness in your underwear told you everything you needed to know.

✩✩✩✩

[sandymybeloved]

moffat stories always save the day with big important spee- WRONG the day is most often saved by people who love each other so much, no enemy however big, no obstacle however insurrmountable, sometimes not even death, can stop them from saving each other

[etfrin]

⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!

⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>

It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.

You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.

You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.

You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.

It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’

Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.

It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).

The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.

He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!

The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.

‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.

‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’

He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.

Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.

Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”

He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.

His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.

“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.

He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.

The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.

He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?

He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.

It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.

“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”

That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.

The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’

The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.

“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”

You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”

“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.

You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.

He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.

You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.

You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.

Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.

His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.

‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.

“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.

‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.

He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.

He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.

You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.

You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.

You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.

“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.

Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.

He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.

He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.

“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.

His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.

His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.

It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.

You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.

You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.

As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.

“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”

Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”

You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”

His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.

He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.

His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.

“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.

“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.

“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”

You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.

You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.

What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.

One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.

“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.

Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.

The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.

What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”

The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.

He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.

He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.

He loves you after all, in his twisted way.

tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer

[street-smarts00]

Weirdest Place

Spencer Reid x gen neutral!reader

Summary: The team finds out you and Spencer have been dating during a night out.

WC: 1.1k

A/N: this is yet another fic based on an episode of friends, specifically a scene from the blackout episode but i added a fun twist lol

Tags: conversations about sex but not smut, established relationship between r & reid, consumption of alcohol

After the team was finished at the BAU they all went out to a local bar for drinks. As the night went on JJ and Hotch left to be at home with their kids. With their boss gone and the tipsiness from their drinks, the topic of conversation got more and more inappropriate.

“A boat?” Rossi asked

“Yes,” Derek confirmed

“A boat?” Emily spoke this time.

“Why don’t you believe me?” Derek asked, slightly offended.

Emily raised her hands in defense, “It’s not that we don’t believe you.”

“It just seemed like your weirdest place would be a bit more adventurous based on how you brought it up,” Rossi voiced.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows, “and a boat isn’t adventurous?”

“No it is,” Penelope chuckled before reaching for her drink. Of course, she’d already heard about Derek’s nautical escapades.

Derek directed his attention back to Emily, “And what about you? What’s your weirdest place?”

She leaned back in her seat with a tinge of embarrassment she tried to hide with smugness. “That’s classified,”

Rossi and Derek cringed at Emily’s diversion.

“Oh god,” Rossi chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.

“Do I even wanna know?” Derek asked half joking.

Emily shrugged instead of answering. Derek decided he was better off not pushing Emily to share her story. He then brought his attention to the man across from him.

“What about you, pretty boy?”

Spencer’s head darted to him with raised eyebrows. “Me?”

“You got a weirdest place?”

“I- um.”

His ears started to turn a shade of crimson and he stuttered on his words, or lack thereof since he was caught off guard.

“It’s probably like a library or something,” Rossi jokes, earning a bright laugh from Derek.

Penelope set her drink down, “don’t make him say it if he doesn’t- “

“Actually it was.”

Everyone froze and turned to Spencer.

Emily was the first to speak, “What?”

Spencer shifted in his seat while the courage he had before started to dwindle. His face was now officially turning red.

“Me and um- someone were at the library because I was showing her it’s Edgar Allen Poe collection. Then at some point we ended up in … um the second floor bathroom.”

“Oh my god,” Penelope giggled before placing her hand on her mouth in shock.

“I can’t believe I was right,” Rossi commented.

“I can’t believe Spencer Reid was getting freaky in a library,” Derek said with a humorous grin.

“Shut up,” Spencer squeaked in a high pitched voice.

He hoped the topic of conversation would quickly be dropped so he didn’t have to reveal too much about his love life. But he suspected that wouldn’t happen once you came back to the table.

You and Spencer had started dating a few months prior and wanted to keep things to yourselves. You both intended to figure out the beginning of your relationship without the eyes of your friends.

“The line for the bathroom was so long,” you complained as you approached the table and sat down next to Spencer. “What did I miss?”

“Oh we never heard Y/N’s place,” Penelope excitedly pointed out.

You looked at her confused, “What place?”

“I have no clue how we got here but they all started talking about the weirdest places they’ve had sex,” Emily explained.

“Wow. Well, when I’m done I need to hear all of yours,” you pointed your glass in a motion towards all of them before drinking the last sip.

“I usually don’t venture outside the bedroom but out of the few times I have I think there’s two tied for first place.”

“What’s one of them?”

“Library.”

Silence fell over the group. Spencer’s stomach dropped to the floor at your answer. His face turned cherry red and his eyes remained frozen on the table in front of him.

You on the other hand were baffled at the reaction from your friends.

“What?”

While your eyes scanned the group you were met with relatively neutral expressions that didn’t match the growing tension in the air. All of them looked as if they wanted to say something, but not one of them was ready to speak.

Embarrassment and regret were creeping their way towards you in silence. Your body tensed up and you folded your arms in front of you.

“Come on guys, it's not that weird. It’s not like we were in an aisle, we were in the bathroom,” you tried to defend yourself.

That sentence seemed to spark something in the group. Their body language started to relax but still had a bit of hesitation. They all knew at this point, but they wanted you to confirm it.

“What floor?”

You followed the voice to Emily “Excuse me?”

“What floor was the bathroom on?”

You couldn’t wrap your head around her question.

“Why does that matter?”

“It does, which floor?” Penelope questioned this time.

“Second I think,” you hesitated, still confused.

“Oh my god!” Penelope squealed. “You guys are sleeping together?”

With your eyes wide, face hot, and heart pounding, you stared at her. Trying to figure out how a story like this was one they already heard. You forgot until now that they were already playing this game before you got back.

Turning to the side you playfully smacked Spencer’s arm. “You told them that?”

He gaped at you and grabbed his arm. Face still red of course now accompanied with a crack in his voice. “I didn’t think you were gonna tell them. I thought you would have talked about the other time.”

“Why would I tell them that?” You said in a quieter tone.

“What other time?” Derek interrupted, filled with curiosity.

Rossi pipped in next, “you said two places were tied for weirdest, what’s the other place?”

You and Spencer went quiet. You looked at each other before returning your gaze to the group.

“I think this is a great time to get a refill,” you grabbed your glass and stood up. “Spencer, coming with?”

He quickly scrambled to stand up, “Absolutely.”

The two of you made your way to the bar as your friends all started murmuring.

“So, you didn’t want to tell them you had sex on a plane?” He asked with a slight smirk.

“No, of course not!” You squealed which earned a laugh from him.

“Eventually they would’ve found out we’re dating and I didn’t want them to figure out it was on the jet,” you explained.

“It’s not like any of them were there,” he said before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“I still don’t wanna get fired.”

[bsturnzmtt]

That’s what friends are for - M. Sturniolo

Best friends to lovers

Part 2 here

Paring: softdom!Matt x innocent!Reader

Contains/warnings: manipulation, inexperienced reader, fingering, oral(fem receiving), loss of innocence kinda, pet names, aftercare, no p in v

Summary: You go crying to Matt after a group of ‘friends’ laughed at your innocence and inexperience. So Matt decides to help you…

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You were hanging out with a group of friends, everything’s going fine. There are laughs, jokes, questions, you felt very comfortable.

Until someone asks. “Where is the weirdest place you’ve touched yourself at?” You frown your eyebrows confused by the question. While other people start answering, restaurant bathroom, school, work, library, pool, etc.

“What about you?” Someone asks looking at you.

“Me?… I- what do you mean by touching yourself?” You shyly ask.

They laugh. “Come on, y’know what I mean.”

You stay silent. The whole group laughs at your silence. “No way you don’t know what we’re talking about.” Someone says.

“You can’t be that dumb.”

“You’re such a prude.”

“Oh god, she’s actually that innocent.”

Your eyes blurring with tears at the comments people are throwing at you. You don’t understand anything, you don’t understand why are they this mean to you. You quickly grab your things and storm out of there. You don’t wanna go home, but you can’t stay on the streets crying. So you decide to go to your best friends house, Matt. His house is just a couple blocks away so you walk there.

By the time you get to his house tears stop falling out of your eyes. But it’s clearly that you’ve cried, your red eyes selling you out. You knock on his door.

He answers the door, his warm smile immediately putting you at ease, even in your emotional state. His eyes flicker to your reddened eyes he tilts his head slightly, concerned by your state. “Hey there, sweetheart. What's wrong?” He softly asks with concern.

“I- I’m so sorry to show up to your house like this, it’s just that… tha-.” You can feel yourself start to cry again.

Matt quickly pulls you into a heartfelt hug, letting you cry on his shoulder. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He murmurs softly, his hand gently rubbing your back. “No need to apologize, you can always come to me, you know that, right?”

You nod but continue to cry on his shoulder. He continues to hold you, waiting for you to calm down enough so that you can talk about what happened. Once your sobbing subsides a little, he gently guides you to his couch and sits down next to you.

He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You can tell me anything, you know that. So go ahead, what happened?"

“I don’t wanna talk about it…” your voice breaking a little bit as you say that.

"Okay. That's fine too. You don't have to talk about it if you don't feel ready yet." He squeezes your shoulder gently, offering silent support and comfort. "How about we just sit here for a little while?"you nod as he says that.

Some minutes go by, you’re completely done crying and your breathing is back to normal now. “They all laughed at me…” you suddenly say in a quiet voice.

He frowns, listening. "Who laughed at you, sweetheart? And why?" He asks.

“We… we were all hanging out, it’s was all good. We were having a good time until someone asks…” you start explaining.

"Asks what, love?" He gently prods you to continue, keeping a comforting arm around your shoulders.

“Someone asks, ‘Where is the weirdest place you’ve touched yourself at?’” You say.

His expression and posture changes completely from comforting to protective. He pulls you in even closer, scowling. "And what did you say?"

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything. Everyone was answering until someone asked me… I- I told him I didn’t understand the question.” You answer shyly.

His grip on you tightens, eyes flashing with a mix of anger and concern. "Fuck. Those bastards." He mutters under his breath. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

“They all laughed at me and called me a ,prude? I think. I don’t remember the word.” Your vulnerability showing in your voice.

"I don't care what they said, you re not a prude." He gently tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.

“What’s a prude?” You ask him.

He brushes his thumb across your cheekbone, a soft smile on his lips. "A prude is someone who is overly conservative or modest, especially when it comes to sex or relationships. They think you're naive or inexperienced because you didn't answer their crude question." He cups your face, looking into your eyes.

“… what did their question mean?” You ask. Matt could see your innocence through your eyes.

His eyes widen and he sighs heavily, his thumb still rubbing soothing circles on your cheekbone. He looks down, realizing that he may have to explain something uncomfortable to you. "It's a question about masturbation, okay? Touching yourself in a sexual way."

“Oh, like … sex?” You ask innocently.

He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head at your innocent assumption.

"Not exactly, love. It's more about pleasuring yourself, especially when you're alone." He pauses, considering how much to reveal. "Sometimes people touch themselves in private, for pleasure, to relieve tension.”

“Ohhh… I’ve never done that.” You say quietly.

His eyes flicker with surprise, but he quickly masks it with a neutral expression. "Oh. Really?" He looks at you with new eyes, as if he's seeing a different side to you. "That's okay, it's your choice. Everyone has different levels of comfort when it comes to sex and sexual activity" He reassures you, sliding his hand down to rest on your shoulder. "But, there's nothing wrong with it if you ever feel like giving it a try."

“Does it… feel good?” You ask with curiosity.

He chuckles, a soft, warm sound. "Yes, it can feel very good.” he admits with a smile. "You feel a rush of pleasure, a release of tension and stress. Some even say it helps with sleep." he explains, his eyes never leaving yours.

You pay attention at his word, your curiosity growing every second. “Have you done it?” You ask innocently with curiosity.

His smile turns into a soft chuckle again as he looks away, clearing his throat. He seems a bit hesitant to answer, but eventually meets your gaze again. "Yes, I have. It's a normal part of life, love."

“Mmhh” you answer.

He leans in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers. "What is it, sweetheart?“ His hand slides down to rest on your hip, fingers tracing gentle circles on your skin. "You're thinking about it, aren't you?" His voice is low, a husky whisper. "Wondering what it would feel like…” His eyes narrow slightly, studying your reaction, noticing the subtle hitch in your breath and the way your cheeks flush. He leans in closer, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "You're...interested, aren't you?”

You nod slowly, feeling a little shy. “But.. I- I don’t know how to…”

His soft smile turned into a smirk. “Shhh, don't worry.” He reassures you. "I'll teach you." His hand moves from your hip to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His other hand reaches up to gently cup your face .“I'll be there to guide you through it all."

“Mhh… I don’t know” you say feeling nervous and unsure.

His smirk grew wider. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Trust me.” he whispers, his hand sliding from your waist to gently rest on the small of your back. He pulls you even closer to him, leaving very little space between your bodies. "It's just you and me, okay?" He can be very persuasive... "I promise to make you feel good." he whispers.

He sees you thinking about it still feeling unsure.

He watched you hesitate, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Don't you trust me?" He asks feigning a sad expression. “I just want to help you.” He says pretending a disappointment voice. “That’s what friends are for.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “And we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“… of course I trust you Matt, you’re my best friend. I just.. I-“

He watched you stutter, his grin growing wider with every passing second. He knows he had you exactly where he wanted you. "Then let me help you. We are best friends. And best friends do...well, all sorts of things together." He says with a little chuckle. He can't help but find your innocence and nervousness adorable. He loves how you don’t what his intentions actually are. "I've been planning this moment for a long time now." His hand moves up to your face again, lightly brushing away a loose hair from your cheek. "I know what's best for you, I promise. You can trust me."

“You promise it wont hurt?” You softly ask. You still feel very unsure but you want to show him that you trust him and that he is your best friend.

He looks into your eyes, studying your emotions, and sees the hesitance and worry in them. "I promise, sweetheart. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you," he had to keep you calm. He couldn't afford you pulling away from him now. “It might feel a little strange at first, but trust me, it won't hurt. In fact, it will feel amazing.”

You nod as he says that, you really love Matt as your best friend. So you accept not wanting to ruin your friendship.

He knew he had you right where he wanted you - vulnerable and willing, trusting his every word. "That's a good girl," he cooed, his voice dripping with approval and affection. He takes you to his room and lays you on his bed. His eyes are filled with lust and desire. He gently caresses your arm, his fingers trailing down slowly, sending chills running up and down your body.

He watches your reactions closely, gauging your level of comfort and arousal. Seeing you shiver at his touch, he knows he's making progress. His hand slides from your arm to the hem of your shirt, fingers dancing teasingly along the fabric. "First, we need to get you out of this." His hands slowly lifting it up your torso. He fully takes off your shirt revealing the lacy bra underneath. He admires your body for a few seconds. “Fuck” he murmurs.

He takes your hand and guides it to his crotch, his fingers intertwining with yours as he presses your palm against the hard bulge in his pants. "See how much you affect me, sweetheart?" he murmurs again, his breathing growing more every second. You let out a small gasp as you feel is hard bulge.

He watches your face as you feel his hardness through his pants, your small gasp and the way your eyes widen slightly. “Ah, you feel that?" He whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Don't be shy," he whispers, urging you to stroke him gently. He moans lightly at your touch, his eyes closing in pleasure. "God, you drive me crazy." he says, his voice filled with a husky warmth that makes your stomach flutter. "You like that, sweetheart?" He continues to press your hand against his crotch, loving the way your innocent touch makes him feel. He says as he leans down to kiss you deeply while caressing your breasts over the bra. He reaches around your back and undoes the clasp on your bra. He gently tugs the straps down, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. He leans in, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it gently.

“Mmmh” you let out a whiny moan feeling his tongue against your hard nipple.

He savors the sweet, innocent sound of your moan, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud as he sucks gently. "Mmm, you like that don't you?" He murmurs, the vibrations of his voice against your sensitive skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. He continues to tease and taste your nipple, his other hand massaging your other breast, making sure to give it equal attention. After a few seconds he moves one hand down to your thighs, gently caressing them as he makes his way upwards. "You're so beautiful, sweetheart."

With a gentle but firm grip, he pushes up your skirt, making space for himself to touch you more intimately. As his hand inches closer to your core, you can feel the heat building between your legs, aching for more of his touch. His hand finally reaches your panties, his fingers grazing the fabric over your slick folds. "Fuck, you're so wet already," He gently rubs your clit through the fabric of your panties, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm in pleasure.

You bite your lips and let out muffled moans.

He smirks at the sight of you trying to stifle your moans and he loves knowing he's the one causing such delicious chaos. With a smirk he knows you can't see, he slowly lowers his hand, pulling down your panties as he does. When he fully took your panties off you automatically close your legs feeling embarrassed.

His eyes light up as he sees your instinctive reaction to expose yourself, a mix of shyness and vulnerability. "Don't be shy, baby. I want to see you, all of you." He gently spreads your legs apart. He leans down, his breath fanning against your slick folds, making you gasp, his eyes devouring the sight of your bare, glistening sex.

You close your eyes, your breathing gets heavy, you bite your lip harder. All because of the feeling of his hot breath hitting your core.

He slowly exhales against you, the heat making you tremble despite the lack of direct contact. "You're so responsive, it's a fucking turn-on." He reaches up and gently runs a finger along your slit before pulling back and bringing that finger to your lips, gently pressing it against them. "Open your mouth, my love.”

You stay paralyzed for a few seconds, but then decide to do what he says. So you open your mouth looking at him with your innocent doe eyes showing confusion.

He chuckles at your look of confusion. Seeing your innocent, confused expression makes him smile. "Don't question it, just do as you're told," he whispers, his voice low and commanding, and slowly slides his finger into your mouth. He groans at the sight of watching you as you taste yourself for the first time. He guides your tongue to his finger, coating it with your saliva. "Good girl. That's it, sweetheart. Suck on it” he says before taking it back into his own mouth and sucking off the slickness.

You watch as he takes his finger out of you mouth soaked with a mix of your wetness and saliva. He pushes it into his mouth savouring you. You feel your pussy clench around nothing as he does that.

His eyes darken with lust as he sees your reaction to his actions. He groans, savoring the taste of you on his finger. "Fuck, you're delicious," he says hungrily. He can't help but press his palm against your pussy, feeling the heat radiating from between your legs. "You're so fucking wet, it's dripping down your thighs." His eyes flicker up to meet yours for a moment before he leans forward and uses that wet finger to circle your clit.

“Mmhp Matt.” You squirm and moan.

"What was that, princess?" he murmurs. He continues to circle your clit slowly and gently at first, but he increases the pace as he sees you squirm and moan, the wetness from your own arousal making it easy to glide. His other hand moves to gently grip your thigh, applying gentle pressure to spread your legs wider for him.

You cover your mouth with your hands trying to hide your moans and whimpers.

He chuckles at the futile attempt to muffle your sounds, clearly enjoying the way you struggle to contain quiet. He continues to pleasure you until he hears you stifle a moan behind your hands. "Don't hide that beautiful sound, sweetheart.” he murmurs, pulling your hands away slowly and bringing your fingers into your mouth instead.

You suck on his fingers for a few seconds before he pushes them out. “I want to hear you scream my name," he says urgently, his own voice husky with desire. He moves down between your legs and replaces his fingers with his tongue, licking and sucking your clit.

“Mmh oh god Matt.” You desperately moan.

"That's it, princess. Say my name." He presses his tongue firmly against your clit and hums, sending a wave of pleasure through you. The vibrations make you arch your back as he holds onto your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. He smirks against you, feeling you growing wetter against his tongue, which is clearly loving the taste of you, as he is using his fingers to part your folds even more so that he can have easier access. "You taste so fucking good, princess. I could spend hours tasting every inch of you," he murmurs against your pussy, continuing to lick and suck your clit while he slides one finger into your wet pussy.

“Ahh Matt.” You moan in pain and pleasure, feeling his finger stretching you out for the first time.

"You're so fucking tight, princess. Does it hurt?" he coos, his tongue never leaving your clit. “Mhm” you nod. "Relax, princess. Just breathe," he coos, feeling your tightness around his finger. He slowly pumps it in and out, letting you get accustomed to the feeling. You keep letting out moans of pleasure and pain. He smirks against your pussy, pushing his finger deeper, crooking it to hit your g-spot. He could see the mix of pain and pleasure on your face, which made him push his finger in even deeper. "You're so tight.” He says slowly adding a second finger to the first one.

“Matt…Matt mhh.” You whimper in pain.

“Shhh. You're doing so well," His fingers curl inside you, stroking that sensitive spot, applying gentle pressure making you gasp and buck your hips. He lets out a low groan, feeling your walls clench around him. "Fuck, you're gripping me so tightly.” He groans. "You're being such a good girl, just try to breathe." He presses his tongue firmly against your clit, giving it attention as well.

Your moans of pain turn into moans of pleasure after a few minutes. “Mmh mhhp.”

He smirks against your pussy, pleased with the shift in your moans. His fingers continue to pump in and out, curling and stroking that spot inside you that makes you quiver. He adds a third finger, gently stretching you further, feeling your tight walls accommodate him. "You're doing so well, taking my fingers like a good little slut." He continues to finger fuck you, making sure he's hitting your g-spot repeatedly that makes your breathing becoming erratic and your legs tremble. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, applying different kinds of pressures as he continues to suck. "You taste like heaven." He says, his fingers pumping in and out of your tight pussy, curling and stroking that sensitive spot inside you. His tongue continues to flick and suckle your clit, making you feel like you're going to explode any moment.

“Mmh Matt … ahh I-”

"You're almost there, aren't you?" He can feel your pussy starting to clench and flutter around his fingers. His fingers curl and stroke hard across your g-spot, making sure you're right on the edge. He sucks harder on your clit, flicking his tongue in response to the way you clench around him. "Cum for me, darling." he growls against your sensitive clit, feeling you quiver and shake around his fingers. He pumps them faster, curling them deeper inside you, hitting that spot that makes your legs tremble. Suddenly he slips another finger into you, making you see stars. "Come on, princess, scream for me.” Before you could finish, he suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his tongue. He flicks his tongue against your g-spot, feeling it quiver beneath his touch. His fingers now focus on your clit, pinching and rolling it between his thumb and index finger.

You finally cum. You come undone is his mouth and fingers. You let out a scream of pleasure as you do.

He pulls back his fingers and removes his mouth from your pussy, leaving you quivering. He smirks at you, his fingers coated in your juices, licking them slowly, his eyes locked onto yours.

You look at him, your body still quivering a bit, and you’re trying to catch your breath.

He watches you breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. He reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, his hand lingering for a moment on your cheek. "You're absolutely gorgeous when you cum." he says with a satisfied smile. He admires your glistening pussy with a satisfied smirk. He leans in close and whispers in your ear, "You taste amazing, princess." His free hand moves up to your chin, gently guiding your face to meet his. He leans down and kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself. His tongue slips in and out of your mouth with ease, mimicking the movement of what he was just doing to you. He gently strokes your quivering inner thighs, his fingers leaving trails of heat. He pulls you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him. His erection is prominent against his pants, straining against the fabric.

You rest your head on his chest feeling tired.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. He runs his fingers through your hair and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. He can feel your heart still racing from your intense orgasm. "You okay, princess?" He murmurs softly, his hand gently stroking your back.

“Mhm” you nod softly.

He lifts your chin up to meet his gaze, his fingers tracing your jawline. “Good." He says with a small smile. He moves you off of his lap and lays you down gently on the bed, his body followed yours before he wraps you up into a spooning position. His hand comes to rest on your waist as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “Did it feel good?” He asks.

“…Yes.” You answer.

He lets out a soft chuckle, nuzzling his face into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your sensitive skin. “I love hearing that.” He murmurs before placing another kiss against your skin. He rests his hand against your stomach, pulling you closer. He starts to gently move his hips, pressing his erection against your ass as he grinds gently.

“Matt..” you softly say.

He stops moving his hips, his hand stilling against your stomach. He kisses your neck gently, then whispers against your skin. “Yes, princess?”

“…thank you.” You say.

“No need to thank me, doll. It’s my pleasure.” He says with a small smile that you can feel against your skin. He turns you around to face him, his hands cradling your face. He presses a soft kiss against your lips before pulling back and looking into your eyes. He sees the exhaustion and pleasure in them and can't help but smile softly. “You don't have to thank me, princess. I’m your best friend, right? I would do anything for you, that’s what best friends do.”

He tilts your chin up, his thumb gently stroking your lower lip. He watches as you cuddle closer in his arms. His breath ruffling your hair and his hips gently moving, grinding against yours. But he stops himself before losing control. "We should probably get you cleaned up and in some comfortable clothes, huh?" He suggests, his voice still soft and soothing. His hand drifts down to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Why don’t I run you a warm bath?”

“Can we stay here, in bed?” You softly ask feeling tired.

He smiles softly, his thumb continuing to stroke your lower lip. "Of course, princess. We can stay right here." His other hand still on your thigh, he gives a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing small circles on your skin. He pulls the covers over you both, tucking you in close to his side.

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Tysmmmm for 150 followers 💕 this is insane. Love you guys so much 🩷

Might do a part 2 of this… with actual p in v

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Tag list: @mattsturniololover1 @immattsslut @stonermattsgf

Tags 🏷️:

[ellecdc]

Peace & Quiet [& Sirius]

Regulus Black x mute!reader [gn] who speaks with Regulus for the first time

request: Regulus Black x mute reader and she's quiet so she can talk, and her speech is excellent, she just chooses not to talk until maybe one day studying she let's it slip and he heard by @simps-for-to-many-people

CW: selective mutism

Regulus Black was a very self-serving person, and he was more than happy to admit that.

Nothing that Regulus did was coincidental, accidental, or unplanned; he had a motive for every action he took, and there was meaning behind everything that he did. 

Like now, for example; he was very pointedly not sitting with his friends in the middle of the library, but rather in a far secluded corner near a fireplace and a bookshelf containing tomes on the reproductive patterns of frost snails.

In essence, no one was coming back here for books or otherwise.

But that wasn’t why he was sitting back here.

It was likely why you were sitting back here, which was decidedly why Regulus was, too. 

He’d asked first, of course; he was a gentleman afterall. And you’d offered him half a smile and a quick nod before quickly returning to your notes.

Regulus liked that about you.

You were a quiet sort - and not only because you didn’t talk, because Regulus was certain that even if you did make a habit of speaking, you’d likely be nearly just as quiet.

It didn’t appear to him that you couldn’t speak, but rather just that you didn’t. 

And Regulus couldn’t blame you, there weren’t very many people in this castle worth conversing with anyways.

That didn’t stop him from trying to converse with you, however.

He made sure to say hello when he saw you, and always asked if your day was going well, or if you were finding class difficult; the likes.

He never got more than a nod or a smile, and that was enough.

So, here he was sitting in the farthest, darkest corner of the library with the quietest seat partner as he enjoyed the view.

And if it wasn’t clear by now, the view Regulus so enjoyed was you. 

You’d not shared more than a smile and nod with him in the years of classes you shared together, yet somehow Regulus seemed to find a kindred spirit in you.

A soul aching for solitude and silence, for patience and understanding, for space and peace.

He certainly found those things with you.

He hoped that you felt the same about him, or perhaps that you could bring yourself to find the same in him.

For now, though, Regulus was happy to reap the benefits of your presence for as long as you were willing to share them with him. 

“There you are, Reggie! My favourite brother!” Regulus heard the unmistakable sound of Sirius’ voice as it permeated his (and, rather unfortunately, your) quiet sanctuary.

Regulus could kill him. 

“I’m your only brother, you sod.” Regulus hissed as Sirius plopped himself down on the bench beside him, either ignorant to or in spite of the lack of enthusiasm at his arrival. 

“And I’m your only brother, don’t you think you ought to be nicer to me? Hi, L/N.” Sirius replied, greeting you quickly as he turned back to his brother. “Listen, I need a favour.”

“No.”

“Reggie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Please.” 

“I said no.” Regulus bit out.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.” Sirius pouted, resulting in an awkwardly long staring match between the two brother’s before Regulus finally sighed.

“What?”

“I need the password to the Slytherin dungeons.”

“Are you out of your sodding mind!?”

“You don’t know what it’s for!” Sirius argued.

“It’s for a prank.” Regulus responded resolutely, causing Sirius’ expression to fall just as he was about to start another sales pitch.

“Okay, so maybe you do know what it's for, but that’s not the point!”

"That's exactly the point."

"But-"

“I’m not giving you the password to my common room, Sirius.” Regulus stated with finality as Sirius groaned and let his head fall to the table in front of him with a thump. 

“You’re mean, you know that? He’s mean; why do you hang out with him, L/N? You could do so much better.”

“What? Like you?” You responded quickly, not bothering to look up from your notebook to see the absolute astounded faces of both Regulus and Sirius Black, and the satisfied smirk on Remus Lupin’s face as he sidled up behind the two brothers. 

“I knew I liked you, L/N.” Remus said as he shot you a wink and placed a conciliatory hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “So, you failed to get the password and had your arse handed to you?”

Sirius harrumphed as Regulus let out a very uncharacteristic bark of laughter.

Neither Sirius nor Remus missed the satisfied smile that graced your lips at the sound. 

“That’s alright, Pads; there’s always plan B.”

“What’s plan B?” Regulus asked cautiously. 

“That’s for us to know and you to find out, dear brother.” Sirius announced as he stood and ruffled Regulus’ curls before turning to stalk away from the table, throwing a hasty ‘nice chatting, L/N’ over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

“But…” Remus continued once he knew Sirius was out of ear shot. “Maybe don’t eat breakfast tomorrow at the Slytherin table.”

“Thanks Lupin.” Regulus grumbled, equal parts exhausted by his brother’s antics and grateful for Remus’ warning. 

“Later Black, L/N.” He called as he followed after Sirius. 

Regulus turned back towards the table to see you staring intently at your notes, though you seemed to be doing little more than fiddling with your quill. 

“That was impressive; it’s usually impossible to shut my brother up like that.” He offered carefully, hopefully, eagerly.

Gods, he was a mess. 

You smiled and looked up at him through your lashes. “He was killing our vibes.” You replied in barely a whisper.

Regulus chuckled disbelievingly; not only did you feel comfortable enough to speak to him or in front of him, but that comfort seemed to extend to the likes of his brother and his brother’s boyfriend. 

And you felt like the two of you had vibes, and that Sirius was a threat to those vibes.

Surely he was dreaming? Hallucinating? This couldn’t be real?

But there you were, sitting across from him as you so often were, looking at him shyly and hopefully and very much real; Regulus felt as though the two of you were on the brink of something.

“I agree; I enjoy your company very much, if I’m being honest."

You smiled at him again -  and it was a more open smile this time, less hopeful and more grateful, less shy and more confident - quickly signing what Regulus knew to be the BSL sign for ‘me too’. 

Feeling quite vindicated, Regulus finally pulled his gaze away from you and smiled down at his notebook. “That’s great to hear, because I may need to keep you on standby for the next time my brother starts harassing me.”

And Regulus was certain he’d be hearing the sound of your laughter in all of his sweetest dreams going forward. 

[reidmania]

in between | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot masterlist.

part one, part two, part three

summary; after being together for two months, you and spencer had yet to go further than making out, until now.

warnings; 18+ mdni, soft dom spencer, no actual sex. fingering, slightly inexperienced reader, a tiny bit more experienced spencer, mentions of bad sexual relations in the past, references longer hair on reader

an; i suck at writing smut so i refuse to be held responsible for this cause ik i asked but u guys really gave me no choice ‘100% for yes part 3 should have smut’ MY ASS. y’all hate me and want me to die.

‘She toes the line between 'em, he says he's new at this, there's holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss. He hates it when she's crying, he hates when she's away, even at their worst, they know they'll still be okay.’

<>

In the two months that you and Spencer had been together you had seen him four times. Which was a disgustingly low amount, you both hated it — That wasn’t a question, but with him working so much and you living in a different state, you both did your best.

You saw him on weekends when you could, when he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes he would take a day trip to see you, just to get coffee or go to the library together. He never didn’t make an effort, anytime you two could see each other, you did.

Like now, Spencer knew it was almost silly to celebrate two months together in an extravagant way, but it gave him the perfect excuse to see you — Not that he needed one, but he wasn’t gonna waste it either way.

He had made it very clear to Hotch that if a case came up, or if anyone from the team called him — He wouldn’t be answering, after the two of you had been interrupted one time you came to stay at his place, he got a call about a case, by the time he got home you had already left due to the time of your flight.

He refused to have that happen again, not this time.

You had got to the airport maybe an hour ago, he was there to meet you just like every other time. Now, you were sitting on his sofa, legs crossed as you rested your head on his shoulder, some documentary playing on the tv. A lot of the time you spent together was like this — just enjoying one another’s presence while you had it.

Spencer arm was over your shoulder, his fingertips drawing soft shapes on your arms which left goosebumps in their trail, their movements never faltered.

“Hey” He said gently, as if not wanting to break the comfortable silence that surrounded the two of you. You turned your head, still rested on his shoulder but now looking up at him.

“Hello” You said back, the same soft tone, the corner of your lips tugged upwards into a smile. Your eyes held his gaze, your stomach full of something so familiar. Something you felt every time he was around you— Anytime you heard his voice. Comfort, warmth, safety. All of the same sort.

He smiled back, then as if he couldn’t help it his head lent down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, only causing your smile to widen. He pulled away to reposition slightly so he could look at your face better. “I wanna take you out” He said gently.

You hummed, eyebrow raising a little in curiosity. It wasn’t that you and Spencer didn’t go on dates, you did. Bookstore, library, cafe, flower shop, bakery’s. All the soft romantic things you both adored to do together, although by the way he spoke you assumed he had something different in mind.

“Do you?” You teased lightly.

He nodded, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, your cheeks flushed at the motion. He did that a lot, the small soft kisses as if it was just habit. You adored those.

“I do. Tonight, is that okay with you?”

He asked, and you smiled.

A soft nod came, before you were speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t have anything nice to wear” You mumbled gently. You packed everything comfortable, you had nice things, but not like extremely nice, nothing fancy.

He shook his head gently, free arm that wasn’t wrapped around your shoulder coming up to brush gentle hairs away from your forehead. “Thats okay, We can get you something, or we can go in pyjamas, make a statement” He mumbled out, a playful smile on his lips as his forehead bumped yours gently.

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. The same playful smile on your lips mirroring his. Your forehead came to nudge his back. “Mm, don’t hate me” You hummed, smiling gently. His head tilted in curiosity of what you were going to say.

“I didn’t pack pyjamas.” You admitted, the last few times you had been here you ended up wearing one of Spencer’s shirts to bed anyways, so you ultimately decided this time there was no point even bringing your own.

He smiled, knowingly, understanding why you didn’t, but then he huffed out playfully, tsking gently as he shook his head. “You had one job, one. job.” He mumbled, faux disappointment lacing his tone only making your smile widen.

“Whoops?” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders.

He let out a snort at your half assed fake guilt, his hands came down to grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sides of your skin making you squeal gently and squirm under his touch. Your hands came down to grip his wrists, trying to tug them away from your side.

After a moment, he gave in, letting you push his hands away, to which you instead interlaced your fingers, holding them up in front of you. “I hate when you do that” You huffed out. You did partly, but not enough to actually be upset about it.

He raised his eyebrow, squeezing your hand gently. “Do you now?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, nodding. He knew it, you knew he did because you told him every-time he did it. For some reason he just enjoyed making you squirm, watching you get frustrated for a total of three seconds before it all turned playful again.

“You know I do” You muttered. You turned slightly so you were facing him, your gaze held his and any doubt you could possibly have washed away just by the look of love and admiration in his eyes.

“Okay, I wont do it again” He said softly, his hands pulled away from yours to instead gently cradle your jaw in his hands, leaning down to place another gentle kiss on your lips.

You knew he would do it again, and you were okay with that.

Spencer realised he had made a mistake. A big mistake.

Buying you a dress, wasn’t the mistake but thinking his thoughts would stay innocent when seeing you in it was. He had let you pick out whatever dress you wanted, insisting on paying for it, he let it remain a surprise. Keeping his gaze away as you used his card to pay for it until it was hidden away in a bag.

Now, seeing you standing in his bathroom, the dress on, your hair falling perfectly to frame your face and your smile. He was having a hard time focusing. He leant against the door frame as he watched you fix your hair.

He wondered if it was possible for you to be any more perfect.

Then you made eye contact with him in the mirror and raised your hand to wave gently, and he decided it was.

The entire night was perfect, any time with you was, but tonight it was exactly what he wanted it to be. The place the two of you went to was fancy but not extreme, the two of you ate and joked throughout the entire time and Spencer knew he was in love with you.

He had always known that, but the words begged to leave his lips more then ever when you were sitting in the passenger seat in his car, using a plastic water bottle as a microphone as you sung out the song playing on the radio as he drove the two of you back to his place.

At a red light, he turned to look at you. You were busy peeling off the wrapper around the water bottle to notice, a small thing that made his heart warm. His gaze dropped down to your thigh, one his hands moving to rest on top of it, then his eyes were stuck on the way it had ridden up your thigh as you were sitting and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

His hand rested against your thigh innocently, although his thumb moved to tuck under the hem of your dress slightly, rubbing the skin there soothingly. Your eyes moved from the bottle to his hand, then to his face.

He had turned back to the road now, when the light had gone green, he could see you looking at him in his peripheral. He was trying to remain calm but he felt as if the car temperature increase massively in seconds.

“You’re pretty” You mumbled out and he knew he was done.

His gaze flicked from the road to your face. A smile on his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wondered if maybe he should pull over because he was struggling to pull his eyes away from your face.

“You’re pretty.” He said back, his gaze flicking back to the road as he turned down the street his house was on, thankful in a few seconds he would no longer have to worry about crashing the car because he was too focused on you.

You hummed, scrunching up your nose slightly at his compliment. He was pulling into his driveway and you were turning your body to face him in the passenger seat. “Im serious. You are really pretty.”

He smiled as he put the car in park, he undid his seatbelt before mirroring your actions turning to face you. “Im serious too. You are also really pretty.” He said in the same tone as you, before he was leaning in to press his lips against yours. His hand left your thigh to instead rest against your jaw, fingertips curling into your hair.

You hummed into the kiss, your hands coming to either side of his neck. Your heart burst at the feeling of his lips warm and gentle against yours the feeling of his cool hands pressing against your warm cheeks.

Your hand left his neck in order to undo your seatbelt, and reposition slightly so you could lean in closer while still not breaking the kiss. One of his hands trailed from your jaw to the back of your head, cradling it as his fingers tangled in your hair, encouraging you closer to him.

After a moment, his lips pulled away from yours but he stayed close, hands remaining in place and his forehead rested against yours as he spoke almost breathlessly, in a way that made your heart beat quicken. “We- We should go inside.” He said.

You nodded, “We should.” You said in the same breathless tone. He stayed in place for a moment just looking into your eyes before he nodded again, pulling back in order to open the car door.

Then he was out, walking around to open the door for you. You smiled as you took his hand, he closed the door once you were out and his hands then moved to your waist, staying close behind you as the two of you walked to the door.

He huffed out when he had to pull his hand away in order to pull his keys out of his pocket, his chest pressed against your back as he leant in to unlock the door after fumbling to find the right key for a moment. His hand moved to press against your stomach as he did so, holding you close against him.

When you were inside he loosened his grip slightly, walking to the kitchen he freed his pockets of his wallet and phone, and keys, he left them all on the kitchen counter before his eyes looked back at you.

You were wandering towards his bedroom, he smiled at the sight before he was following you. He walked fast in order to catch up, hands gripping your hips making you jump in shock, you turned your head to look at him.

“That was mean- Don’t do that” You huffed out, he grinned, his hand moving from your hip to the side of your cheek in order to turn your face more towards him, then he was kissing you again.

You allowed it for a moment, before your neck began to cramp at the uncomfortable positioning. You turned so you were facing him, chest pressed against his as your hands came to rest on either side of his jawline.

His hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you against him while his other hand, re-tangled in your hair. Then his feet were stumbling toward and yours back as he led you both blindly to his bedroom. His hand left your back to push the door open.

His tongue pressed against your bottom lip searching for entrance, your lips parted as his hands moved to press against the back of your thigh, your arms moved to wrap around your neck.

His lips left for a moment, but stayed close so you could feel them moving as he spoke quietly and breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful” He said as his fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, pulling you upwards so he was holding you, your legs wrapping around his torso.

You hummed and then leant back in to press your lips against his again, this time there was no build up, it was instantly more messy than it had been any other time, desperate, yet soft.

He walked to the bed, not breaking the kiss as his tongue mapped out your mouth, as if trying to memorise it. He got on his knees on the soft foam of the mattress, laying you down on your back, lips never leaving yours as his hands came to rest on either side of your head, cradling you in.

Normally, this is where the two of you would stop. Any other time he would roll off and make a comment or offer to put on a movie, read to you, make you coffee or something. Yet his lips stayed against yours as he remained on his knees in between your thighs that had remained parted once he laid you down.

His hands trailed down to your shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the strap of your dress softly so it draped down the curve of your shoulder. He pulled away, leaning back to look at your face.

His eyes trailed down every feature, the way your lips had gone slightly puffy and red from the kiss, the way your cheeks were flush, hair a mess, eyes lidded, it made his heartbeat increase.

“Is this okay?” He asked, voice quiet and husky in a way that made your stomach swell with nerves. His fingertips brushed over the empty space of your collarbone and shoulder where the strap had fallen from.

You nodded, looking up at him. He smiled gently and leant down to press a trail of gentle kiss down your jaw, then he moved down your neck, his hand moving to the other strap of your dress, pushing it down your shoulder.

“Spencer” You mumbled out, looking down at him as his kisses trailed down to your collarbone, hand coming to rest on either side of your waist. He looked up at you through his lashes and you swore your heart stopped.

He looked at you, his lips pressed against your skin, you felt his breath as he mumbled out a gentle ‘Mhm?’ In response.

You were at a loss for words honestly, eyebrows furrowed in deep focus, this was new, with Spencer it was new. You hadn’t had sex, you hadn’t gone past making out, you hadn’t even really talked about it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you did. You were just nervous.

He noticed your silence and pulled away to sit up, looking down at you. You instantly missed the feeling of his lips on your skin and the close proximity of his body against yours. His fingers ran gently down the side of your waist as his eyes stayed trained on your face, searching for what had you so choked up.

“We can stop.” He said gently, he wanted you to be comfortable and the last thing he would ever want you to do is feel pushed or pressured into doing something you didn’t want to do. You shook your head.

You didn’t want to stop, actually you really wanted to keep going.

“I still have my shoes on” You stated quietly. instead. He paused for a moment, before he let out a gentle laugh, nodding his head as he shuffled away in order to take off your shoes for you.

“You still have a lot on” He mumbled out under his breath but you caught it and it made your cheeks warm. You perched yourself up onto your elbow to watch him as he pulled your shoes off your feet, dropping them at the end of the bed before kicking off his own.

Then he was pulling his suit jacket off, and undoing the first few buttons of the white dress shirt he had been wearing before he was leaning back up to press another gentle kiss on your lips.

“You’re quiet” He said, taking note of it. You shrugged your shoulders. You were nervous, you had a lot going through your head and that mixed with his hands on your body and the sight of him made you rather nervous and a little light headed.

You looked up at him, “Is that bad?” You asked. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had sex before, you had, just not.. Good sex. It was with a guy you dated for a short while who had very little care for anything other than his own pleasure, and before that when you were freshly 18 and graduating.

Neither were very good.

He hummed, leaning up to brush hair away from your face. “You tell me, sweet girl. You okay?” He asked. He wanted you comfortable, feeling good, if you weren’t then there was no point in doing it.

You nodded again, “Im okay- Not a bad thing.” You said, leaning up to press your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away. He moved down to rest on his heels between your thighs.

You watched him, “Can we take this off?” He asked as his finger tips hooked under the hem of your dress. You nodded again, he smiled and lowered himself a little to press a soft kiss against your stomach over the fabric of the dress before his hands bunched the ends of it to pull it up over your stomach, then you were tugging your arms out of the straps and sitting up as Spencer pulled it off over your head.

His eyes trailed over your body and you swore the house had gotten too warm. Your head was spinning as you watched his face, his eyes as they trailed over every aspect of you.

“You’re- My gosh. You’re beautiful, you are so beautiful” He mumbled, it seemed like it was more to himself than it was to you but it made you smile and feel a little less revealed.

“My socks are still on.” You said, uncomfortably away of everything touching you at the moment, the way the bedsheets felt under your back, the way your undergarments sat almost uncomfortably uncovered, the only thing seemly comfortable was Spencers hands.

He was the one to nod this time, he leant down to rest on his stomach in between your thighs, pressing gentle kiss to the plush skin of your thighs as his hands rested over them, rubbing softly over the skin. “I know” He mumbled out against the skin of your thigh.

You huffed, leaning back up on your elbows in order to look at him. “Isn’t it like a thing? That people don’t have socks on during sex” You mumbled the thing you had heard around, you couldn’t pin point where you had heard it from but you knew it was talked about.

He hummed, trailing soft kisses against your thigh, hands pushing them gently more apart. “Would you like me to take them off” He asked, voice muffled against your skin, you huffed.

“I don’t know. Why haven’t you?” You asked, wondering if there was a specific reason for him removing every other aspect of your clothing, besides your underwear, and just leaving your socks on.

He hooked his finger under the hemming of your underwear, his eyes flickering away as he looked up at you, eyes silently asking for consent to take them off. You nodded gently.

He placed another kiss to your thigh before he was pulling your underwear down. “Studies have shown that wearing socks during sex can help with better orgasms. Cause of your blood circulation” He mumbled out softly as he tapped your knee, you lifted your legs up so he could pull your underwear the rest of the way off before tossing them somewhere in the room, your legs returning spread around him.

“Really?” You asked gently, voice hitching as his hand came to rest against your inner thigh, pushing it open a little more to allow him better access. He hummed and nodded.

His fingers brushed gently over where you needed him the most, his focus completely on you and making you feel good as his fingers rubbed gently over the wet folds. He relished in the way you breath hitched.

“When your feet are cold, your body signals a fight or flight response, it sends the blood to your feet rather than anywhere else. When your body is warm-” His thumb moved to rub soft circles over your clit, his eyes flicking upwards to search for your search. A soft smile on his face when he watched your lips part and your eyes flutter shut.

“When your body is warm, you are instantly more relaxed and more comfortable, your feet are always gonna get cold first, so if they are warm, chances are the rest of your body will be warm as well. Then you get more blood flow where you need it, right here” He mumbled out, one finger presses gently and slowly into you making your eyes squeeze shut and your legs threaten to close.

He let out a soft laugh, pushing your thighs to remain open. “That feel good?” He asked, almost teasing you. You opened your eyes to glare at him, making him only laugh again.

“You don’t have your socks on.” You pointed out, breath shaky as you spoke, his finger moving slowly eyes focused on your face and every little reaction.

He nodded, “I don’t think I’m gonna have any issue.” He smiled. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled back before he pressed a second finger into you.

“Y-You think I will?” You asked, voice wavering as you tried to continue the conversation but honestly your mind was fading in and out of focus as you felt yourself clench around Spencer’s fingers.

He shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. “No, I am pretty confident” He mumbled out, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers curled, a soft sound leaving your lips at the feeling. He only grinned wider. “But I don’t wanna take any chances. If it helps, then it helps, if it doesn’t then it doesn’t. Just want you to feel as good as possible.” He said gently, his fingers pumping up into you.

You hummed, moving off your elbow to rest on your back. Your eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan passed through your lips when you felt his fingers curl upwards against your g spot. He realised pretty quickly and continued his movements hitting that spot.

“Are you okay?” He checked in again, as his thumb came up to nudge your clit again, his fingers still curling against you. You hummed out in response as your back lifted slightly off the bed. He let out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your stomach.

“I was thinking about getting a cat” You huffed out. You knew it was probably the worst time to bring it up but the way your body was tensing as the knot in your stomach tightened it made you feel like you needed to relax your mind a little, and there was no better way to do that then to talk as if Spencer’s weren’t curling inside you.

He snorted as he looked up at you. “Have you now?” He understood the need to deflect. He was smart enough to know when things got intense in your body, calming your mind was helpful.

You let out a soft ‘mhm’ Followed by a small sound. “I wanna name it teddy.” You huffed out, chest rising and falling heavily as the tension in your stomach built, you could feel it in your thighs.

He smiled, “I cannot believe you are talking to me about cats when I am fingering you.” He mumbled out, his tone teasing and playful as the speed of his fingers increased.

You cringed at his words, “Thats so graphic Spence. Don’t say it like that” You huffed, squirming slightly as the pressure rose between your legs, you clenched subconsciously around Spencer’s fingers. His thumb flicked your clit gently, a playful grin on his lips as he watched you gasp.

“Sorry. How else would you like me to describe whats happening here?” He mumbled gently as he leant down to kiss your inner thigh, the pace of his fingers increasing the tighter you clenched around him, he could tell you were getting closer and he was making it his prime goal to get you there while keeping your pretty mind relaxed, even if that meant talking about cats.

You hummed, a gentle moan rolling off your lips. “Just- Don’t” You huffed, as your back arched in order to press yourself further against him. His fingers curled as your thighs got tense and begged to close, he had to hold them open.

He smiled. His focus now on making you finish. His fingers curled over your g spot repeatedly while his thumb moved against your clit, in circular motions.

“Spence.” You mumbled his name breathlessly, almost like a warning and his understood instantly, he continued his movements before he heard you moan, and then you clenched around him and gushed over his fingers.

He continued his movements a little slowly throughout your orgasm, enough to keep you going without overwhelming or overstimulating you. He pressed an abundance of gentle kisses against your thigh as you tried to catch your breath.

After a moment, his fingers pulled out of you. He kissed up your stomach. “Are you okay?” He asked again. Eyes trailing over your face, cheeks red and eyes closed, soft harsh breaths left your parted lips. You looked beautiful and Spencer wanted to tell you that a million times and more.

“Yes.” You exhaled, peeling your eyes open to look at him, “Thank you.” You mumbled, leaning up. He smiled and met you half way in order to press a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling back.

“Im gonna go get a rag okay, clean you up.” He mumbled out gently into your ear. You nodded half processing his words, your mind a bit of a mess as your focus was purely set on calming yourself down.

When you felt him leave the bed, you looked at him. “Wait.” You mumbled out, lifting yourself to sit up a little. He turned to face you, eyes trailing over your face to search for any indication that maybe something was wrong.

“Whats up sweetheart?”

You huffed out, looking up at him. There was a sort of blissed out expression on your face. “I love you” You said. You didn’t give yourself a chance to overthink it. You loved him, whether he loved you back yet or not. You loved him and you wanted him to know.

His features softened, a soft smile on his lips as your words settled in. His heart hammered against his ribcage. Acutely aware of everything; yet only focused on you.

“I love you.” He replied in the same sort of tone, certain, no question about it.

You smiled, “Okay- You can go now” You mumbled, laying back in bed now allowing him to go get a cloth to clean you up, you knew you’d have to get up to pee in a minute, but you figured that could wait.

He snorted, “Thanks for your permission” He smiled, You nodded, closing your eyes as a gentle exhale left your mouth.

He loved you. You loved him, you never wanted that to change and you didn’t believe it ever could.

[dramaticals]

through the wringer

pairing: theodore nott x ravenclaw reader

summary: theo tries to get your attention by spoiling you with gifts. you pretend not to notice the shift just to mess with him. childhood friends to lovers. / requested by @the-empty-refrigerator.

word count: 1,117

author’s note: i've also posted this on ao3 but as a theo x hermione fic, and so if you're interested in reading that instead: click here. reblogs / comments are always appreciated.

"What's this?" You ask, blinking in confusion at the box of your favourite sweets in his hands.

Theo places the box in front of you before settling into his usual spot at the Ravenclaw table. Your housemates have now made a conscious effort to leave room for him, considering he had no qualms about squeezing his way in to sit beside you. It's as if he didn't have his own assigned table.

"I thought you Ravenclaws could read."

"You're a twat."

"And here I was, doing something nice for you." Theo sighs. Always the flair for the dramatics. "It's Valentine's Day."

You eye him suspiciously before finally accepting the sweets and his reasoning. For as long as you've known him (and you've known him long enough that you couldn't even remember not knowing him), the two of you have never exchanged anything on Valentine's Day.

"Right, well, thanks." You say, offering him a nudge of your shoulder. His cheeks were pink. "I suppose I could share since I didn't get you anything."

Theo looks at you expectantly before he gives you a slow nod. His facial expression is unreadable, but something flashes in his eyes that you couldn't quite decipher. "How generous."

"I got you this."

You look up from your parchment, settling your quill down carefully to not spill ink. The library was nearly empty at this hour, and Madam Pince was an hour and a half away from kicking you out.

"Another present?"

"Are you complaining that I'm spoiling you?"

"I don't reckon a fresh box of the cheapest quills warrants you tossing the word spoiling around."

"It's not my fault these happen to be your favourite to write with."

"Hmm, touché." You sound, accepting the pack of quills. "Will that be all?"

Theo blinks, his eyes darting between his gift and you. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. Nothing comes out.

You shake your head and begin to pack your things away. You bite back a smile as Theo, ever the conversationalist, is clearly at a loss for words. "Come on, Nott. Walk me back to my common room."

"It seems Theodore's quite fond of you." Luna points out as soon as Theo leaves you with another present. This time, it was a locket charmed to hold as many tiny pictures as you liked. Being quite the sentimental person, this gift was thoughtful and just proved to you that Theo knew you—not that it needed to be proven.

"I know." You say, touching the locket he had secured around your neck. There's only one photo in it currently; a picture of you and Theo, laughing as you attempted to swipe frosting across his nose.

"You seem fond of him."

You nod and smile lightly. "I am."

"He doesn't know."

You shake your head. After Theo secured the locket around you, you questioned what the occasion was, and Theo shrugged, claiming he was just messing around with a spell. He couldn't hold your gaze, and his tells when lying were practically screaming in your face. Theo excused himself quickly when you gave him a very friendly side-hug in thanks, teasingly claiming just how good of a friend he was to you.

"I refuse to tell him until he can be a big boy and use his words."

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Theo asks, cutting through the welcomed silence as the two of you sit near the Black Lake.

"Mhm," you sound noncommittally. "As I do every time we're permitted to go."

"Right," Theo nods. He's fiddling with a loose string on the blanket the two of you are sitting on. "Wanna go with me?"

Your brows lift slightly, and your eyes flicker to his. "Don't I always?"

"I mean, yes."

"Okay," you say slowly. You pause long enough for him to interject. When he doesn't, you sigh and shake your head. "So I'll meet you at our usual meeting spot."

"Okay."

"I can pay for myself, Theo."

Theo shakes his head, making quite a scene of pulling out a few sickles and galleons (the price of two butterbeers and a slice of apple pie did not warrant the number of galleons he placed on the table).

"I'm well aware." Theo says, waving off your attempt at tossing in the amount for your share. "But I'm paying for it."

"Then the next one's on me."

"That's not how this works."

"This?"

"Yes."

"What's 'this' then?"

Theo's jaw clenches, and he exhales a breath. "You know what this is."

You did.

After he met you in front of the Ravenclaw common room instead of your usual meeting spot, purchased a book you were eyeing at Tomes and Scrolls, opened all the doors for you, and pulled out your chair for you at the Three Broomsticks (and then sat beside you rather than in front of you), you had a strong inkling of what this day was. But Theo never explicitly asked you or said anything that would allude to being interested romantically, and so you continued the charade. You played dumb.

Your brows furrow, and you blink in convincing bewilderment. "Do I?"

Theo releases a small groan, his hands covering his eyes in defeat. "Gods, you're impossible."

"I'm confused."

"I like you!" Theo blurts, bringing his hands down so he can meet your gaze. His eyes burn with frustration and longing. His cheeks are red, and he's bouncing his left leg as if he'd just heard he needed to face three boggarts at once. "I've been trying to tell you this whole time. The sweets, the quills, the necklace, the book. I even took you out on this bloody date. How do you not know already?"

It took everything in your power not to crack as he finally voiced his feelings. As you watch him take bated breaths, you can't help but erupt into a fit of laughter.

"Merlin," you giggle, wiping the tears from the corner of your eye. "It took you long enough, you bloody goof."

Theo flushes, and you can't tell if he's red because he's embarrassed and confused or if it's because he's seconds away from breathing himself into hyperventilation. You don't let him get to that point (being the gracious and not at all cruel person that you are), as you grab Theo by his collar and pull him in for a kiss.

Theo tastes of butterscotch and syrup, and his lips are soft and hesitant until they're not. He comes to, his hand moving to cup your jaw as he kisses you back.

You pull away from him, beaming at his shell-shocked and pleased expression. "I've known. I just wanted to hear you say it."

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

~~

You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme. 

You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless. 

Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days. 

But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even? 

Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home. 

The home that wasn’t Velaris. 

You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris. 

Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep. 

He was everywhere, everything. 

But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance. 

With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading. 

Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.

It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel. 

You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed. 

You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys. 

It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long. 

The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.” 

The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips. 

Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest. 

“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?” 

The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.” 

That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure. 

And of course he had sent Azriel of all people. 

“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—” 

“Why is half of your vanity gone?” 

You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room. 

“What?” It was all you could think to formulate. 

But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.” 

“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”

But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort. 

“Azriel—” 

“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.” 

“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful. 

You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing. 

Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.

But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity. 

“Is something the matter?” you tried. 

Azriel’s hand twitched. 

That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again. 

“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched. 

You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?” 

He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from. 

“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.” 

“I was going to—” 

“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.” 

The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move. 

“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.” 

“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word. 

You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”

A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility. 

Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away. 

Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him. 

Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet. 

“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.” 

Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?” 

“With your mate.” 

And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance. 

“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.” 

Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling. 

Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else? 

The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours. 

He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly. 

“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.” 

Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing. 

“My oblivious girl. Please.” 

“Azriel—” 

When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs. 

As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—

Mate. Azriel was your mate. 

You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed. 

“You’re my—Azriel, you—” 

There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant. 

“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.

“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat. 

“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head. 

“You love Elain.” 

“I do not love Elain.” 

“And Mor?” 

“I do not love Mor, either.” 

You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.

Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else. 

But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others. 

Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.” 

“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused. 

“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded. 

“How long have you…” 

Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.” 

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—” 

Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead. 

“I didn’t want to lose you.” 

Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.” 

This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.” 

There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by. 

“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.” 

When you didn’t answer, he kept talking. 

“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”

“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”

A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.” 

“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.” 

“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck. 

“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.” 

You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.” 

“I love you,” he said. 

And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.

When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.” 

You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.

“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 

A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.” 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin. 

“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”

[julietsbody]

divine figures — luke castellan + reader : nothing could steer luke off his path to god now, until you came along. 

tags : southern setting au, small town setting, loser!luke, idolization, christian religious references & imagery, religious inconsistencies, church sex, religious guilt, body worship, sex but poetic, cannibalistic imagery…………..

a/n : heavily inspired by the lovely @murdrdocs!! 

luke castellan was never one to follow a religion, well, not at first he wasn’t. he thought it was all bullshit, to put your all into someone nobody is sure even exists, it’s bullshit. but then his mom began insisting that he went, that he needed to find god, they both did, so he went.   

luke lacked a father figure, so when he stared up at the statue perched at the apse of the church, he found the man he always lacked in his life, no matter how much the statue ignored his gaze, never bothering to look his way. he was quick to read the bible like it was a drug he just couldn’t get enough of, he sat straight with his eyes forward during each sermon, he kept himself pure. 

and he stuck true to that, until you came. 

he never really noticed you at first, but you were always there. 

always looking over your shoulder to his place in the pew, always smiling at him when he accidentally glances your way, always passing by his house on your bike on hot summer days in hopes of seeing him outside, shirtless and working on his mother’s car. 

you hadn’t mustered up the proper courage to speak to him, not until your parents have tugged you over to where he stood with his mother in the nave. your mother and father immediately sparked up conversation with his mother, leaving you to awkwardly look around the church in hopes of finding something worthy of speaking of. nothing, there was nothing. so you just mumbled out a, “hey.” 

he hesitates for a second, “hi.” 

“did you like the sermon?” your southern drawl, along with your sugar coated smile, luke can feel the thumping of his heart against his knit sweater. 

“‘course,” he smiles shyly, “i always do— um.. did you?” 

you nod at him, your ability to hold eye contact so well had him feeling nervous, constantly breaking it to glance around the room, “are you excited for easter?”

luke’s lips curve to a brighter smile, one that proves that he hopes that with jesus’ return, there will be a proper savior for him, his prayers will finally be listened to, maybe for once the statue on the wall will glance his way. 

jesus molded everything about luke, at this point, if he couldn’t believe in his father, jesus was going to take that place— and he did, luke was taught everything by the bible, all he ever relied on was the words of the lord, everything he ever did was a representation of what lied in those scriptures. he never worshipped another god, never said the lord’s name in vain, always remembered sabbath day, as well as honored his mother and… father. 

he didn’t commit adultery, in fact, he never spoke to women, really. his mother kept him sheltered, he was only allowed to speak to the women at church, not any of the women who rode on their bikes past his house, or smiled at him in the library. he just stared at them for a minute and looked away, contemplating how different things would be if he was able to speak to them. 

at the thought of women, luke’s mind races back to you, who is currently blinking at him and thinking he didn’t hear you. “i am excited— for easter, will you be at— the um.. the church that day?” 

another nod, then an awkward silence as you find nothing more to say, and neither does he. the church was a beautiful place, decorated with swirls of gold and dark wood, colorful stained glass windows that painted pictures of jesus, or virgin mary. if luke could move out of his home and live somewhere he genuinely enjoyed, it would be the church. 

there was something so comforting about it, maybe the faint music that played in the background, or the way it smelled of old books and floral perfumes, or the fact that it was just a place where so many people went to put their faith into someone. god was just so important, if luke didn’t know any better, he’d envy him. 

“you should come on sabbath days,” you interject his thoughts, leaning in to his vision. 

he blinks, eyes refocusing on your face, and he awkwardly chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “i thought they were for relaxation?” 

“and worship,” you correct, and he crystalizes the memory of how each word sounds on your tongue, how it flows out so well, how it makes him swallow. 

“right, right,” he wets his lips nervously, “i’ll just— ask my mom. mama?” 

as soon as he asks his mom, she’s all smiles at him, nodding and even shaking your hand, thanking you for urging him to go to church more. 

“i’ll see you there,” is the last thing you say to luke that day. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

luke would be a liar to say he wasn’t riddled with visions of you in the darkest parts of the night, they started from the day you first spoke to him, and never left him since. he hated how much it plagued him, because it tempted him so well. it was like you were eve, offering him, adam, the apple. you reassure him that it’s sweet, that there’s no harm in taking a bite, and luke is parting his lips, ready to taste it, when he finally wakes up. 

the heat of the room is beating down on him, even in the cool of the night. his skin is sticky from sweat, and all he can ever think about is you. it should be a crime, really, how much you had consumed his every waking thought. for once, he wasn’t thinking of the bible verses he would be reading that day, what prayer he would be saying. 

luke didn’t know one thing about women, but the way you spoke to him, the way you smiled at him, the glints in your eyes, it had him wondering how he could make your face twist up in pleasure— fuck. he shouldn’t be thinking like this, it’s unholy, it’s weird, but he’s already in too deep. 

he’s already fed the memory of how pink your lips are, how soft they look, they probably feel the same. is it a sin to wonder how well you kiss? would you be all - consuming? or slow, sweet? luke doesn’t know why he prefers if you’d be hungry, if you’d bite and nip at him like you’re hungry, like he’s the last supper. 

his boxers feel tight on his skin, dick twitching in the confines of them. luke hardly knows this feeling well, he wasn’t one to allow himself to get hard, nor was he one to properly take care of it. but something about the idea of your teeth clashing against his when you kiss him, pushing your tongue into his mouth to taste him properly— it had his fingers pushing underneath the waistband of his underwear. 

when his fingertips graze his cock, he immediately shudders, lashes fluttering. every time luke touched himself, it felt like the first time, only now it felt.. better. better because he was thinking of you. luke had never watched porn, he hardly knows what it is, so the idea of what sex would be like is.. a gray area for him. 

but he works with what his mind is capable of, which is dry humping. the first setting that comes to mind is the church, which leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, but he goes with it. it comes to vividly, you on his lap, wet patch evident on his jeans from where your hips push down, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. when you moan, he does, when you whimper, he does, when you roll your hips, he does. 

everything was in sync, and it was all so sinful. masturbation itself wasn’t a sin, unless you thought of someone, and for the longest time, luke never thought of anyone, but you were a parasite he couldn’t shake, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to. 

luke wonders how much the priest will judge him when he utters these thoughts, these events in the confessional tomorrow. he has only ever uttered small, pitiful confessions, i didn’t help my mom with dinner, i turned in a book to the library late, i forgot to pray. he’s never had to confess anything larger. 

heat bubbles in luke’s stomach, it’s pleasant, sweet, but it curls, and curls until it’s suffocating, until his wrist is hurting from the fast pumps of his cock, sweat glistening on his skin, cheeks flushed. he can feel a whine scratching up his throat, in the confines of his mind, something is screaming at him, telling him to stop, but it’s too late, he can barely hear it over the blood pumping in his ears. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

when luke comes into the church the next day, it’s a saturday, a sabbath day. typically on these days, he would be spending his time lounging around his house, reading some piece of classical literature that he has hidden from his mother, wishing to keep the inked pictures of statues reeking of desire for one another a secret. 

but he was here, and so, he prayed. 

the sun had barely risen over the horizon (courtesy of daylight savings), yet the candles in the church were lit, leaving an orange hue to project around the empty room. 

luke felt gross, corrupt, unholy. 

for once, luke feels as though the statue above is glaring down on him, and he tries his best to not shrink into himself under the piercing gaze. he knows. his mouth is dry with each prayer, fingers sweaty around the rosary, but he wouldn’t allow himself to falter once more. 

as soon as he starts his fifth prayer, he hears the creak of the floorboards that he knows all too well, eyes fluttering open so he can look back to see who was there, hoping they hadn’t heard his last confessions in his prayers. 

you. his mind is tugged to a halt, every prayer he had rehearsed on his way to the church, completely forgotten. it was all just.. you. you seared on his skin, burned him until he was nothing but smoke. your gaze softens on him, a stark contrast to jesus’ pointed glares, “i didn’t think you’d come.” 

his voice is coarse from the nonstop prayers, “of course i would.” 

all he can think about is you underneath him, his own skin bitten and scratched, decorated in mulberry and deep pinks, he’s practically salivating at the idea. he wonders if, behind the confines of the church walls, would anyone hear you? would the priests dare to look for whoever is letting out such unholy noises? 

luke feels frozen the second he comes back to reality, dick hardening underneath the fabric beyond his control, his mind is tearing itself apart before he can even realize you’re speaking to him. 

“— wondering if you’d like to sit next to me tomorrow,” you pose, seemingly unaware of the bulge in luke’s pants that he is desperately trying to naturally cover with his hands. but you knew, you knew the effect you had on him, and he had the same effect on you. 

is it so cruel to only tease him harder? 

luke swallows the remaining saliva in his drying mouth, quickly moving to a stand, rosary bringing more attention to his covered crotch, “sure, yes— um.. i need to— go.” 

before you can even say anything, he is pushing past you, hand moving only to chastly grab your waist for a mere second as he passes, an instinct of trying to keep you stable, but it only makes a heat between your legs grow. 

desires go both ways, and it’s only a matter of time before they snap. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

easter was once luke’s most anticipated day of the year, but now it was the day of his nightmares. he barely slept last night, kept himself awake with chores, prayers, and reading the bible until it made him sick. he couldn’t have another dream, he couldn’t let you get to him anymore. he thought it would be easy to avoid you today, but he was cursed with his own mistakes as you sat down next to him in the pew. 

the worst part wasn’t that you sat down next to it, it’s that his mind was riddled with disgusting thoughts as soon as he saw how your dress brushed up your thighs, it was so simple, such a small act, but it just made him think the worst possible things. 

you bent over the pew, the bottom of your dress tugged up to show your panties, his hands are gripping your hips like his life depends on it, crotch pressed to your clothed pussy from behind. 

luke blinks back with his cheeks hot, noticing the bible in your hands. when he speaks, he doesn’t even realize what he’s saying, it’s like he’s possessed, “what verse are you reading?” 

“luke 22:40,” you say it so simply, a smile barely teasing your lips. 

on reaching the place, 

he said to them, “pray that you 

will not fall into temptation.” 

the saliva on luke’s tongue is sour, near poisonous, his lips were stained maroon from the skin of the apple. luke 22:40 was the exact line he had been reciting to himself, luke was his name. the serpent was squeezing him tight, his breath felt swiped away from his lungs. 

luke is quiet for the rest of the evening, even through the sermon, when he should be smiling when everyone else is, clapping when everyone else is— he is just silent, blank - faced. 

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling until everyone has gone off to eat after the sermon, and he’s tugging you back into the pew once it’s vacant, fingers forming a tight grip around your wrist, “why are you doing this?” 

he’s out of breath, and no matter how tough he tries to seem, he sounds pathetic, his voice a near whimper, like he’s pleading with you. 

“doing what?” you blink up at him, doe eyes making his teeth press together. 

“you’re tempting me— this, this isn’t fair, why?” his breath is shaky when he exhales. 

“i’m not doing anything, luke.” 

“you’re making me think— making me imagine things.. sinful things.” 

“what exactly are you thinking?” your voice is softer, and the heat of the sun is seeping into the church. 

“i..” how can he explain himself? every image that he wants to communicate is all too disgusting, a mixture of hunger and desire, it seemed luke wanted you to eat him alive, “you know what i’m thinking.” 

“why don’t you show it to me?” 

absolution; 

formal release from guilt, 

obligation, or punishment. 

or.. 

an ecclesiastical declaration

of forgiveness of sins.

morals trickle down luke’s back when he kisses you, he knows it’s all wrong, he knows he could just leave it at a kiss, but he didn’t want to be haunted with these visions any longer, maybe if he made them a reality, they would just leave. he could be himself again, the picture - perfect religious boy he was always supposed to be. the kiss is small at first, the hesitant movement of lips, the adjusting to the feeling, but it quickly grows into something hungry. 

luke didn’t know how to properly kiss, so he just followed your lead, and soon enough, he was kissing you like a starving man. from tongues clashing, to his hand mindlessly moving to your hip, body pressing against yours, it was everything he saw in the pictures printed in those books he read. 

when luke falls back into his seat on the pew, you had pulled away from him, admiring how flushed his lips are. when your hand meets his jaw, luke forgets who his god is supposed to be, all he can think about is you, even on the day dedicated to the man he has spent all of his life worshiping. 

“please,” it’s barely even audible, only made out by the slight flick of his tongue from the l. 

“tell me what you want.” 

it felt like luke was sitting in the confessional, admitting all of his nastiest desires when his lips part, finally being able to say his thoughts out loud, “can you— ride me? or.. if you don’t want to— that’s okay.” does luke know what riding is? only from the overheard gossip of other men, but he was told it was something he had to try, when he got married, of course. 

“i want to,” it’s as if you aren’t in a church, as if nobody could just walk in and see how you’re moving onto his lap, moving his hands to your ass, letting his desperate fingers tug your dress up. his purity bracelet brushes against your skin when you move to guide his hands to your ass, watching the nervous look in his eyes when he squeezes the flesh. 

he has no idea what he’s doing, he just wants to please you, to make you feel as good as he made himself feel to the idea of you the other night. maybe, at this point, luke isn’t praying to jesus, maybe he never was, because you were always in the back of his mind. no matter how guilty it made him feel, how many times he had squeezed his tear - ridden eyes shut and wished he was different, wished he wasn’t so easy to fall for temptation. 

god is watching, is what his mind tells him, but your eyes tell him to keep going, watching as he moves his hands to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal clinging being so improper for the walls ridden with crosses, but it just felt so right. he sucks in a sharp breath when he pulls out his dick, the cool air searing his delicate skin, pupils blown wide when they watch your lips slightly part at the sight. 

 “you’re so big,” is all you can manage out. 

luke’s lips twitch around a small smile, “is that a good thing?” 

“if it fits,” you move through a few twists to properly take your panties off, letting them hang off your ankle when you reposition yourself to have your entrance pressing against the tip of his dick, “then yes.” 

luke’s lips press together as soon as you start sinking down on him, you’re so slow with it it’s almost torturous. the holy water he had dipped his water in and pressed to his skin, was now scorching him with each inch that filled your velvet walls. when you reached the hilt, it was safe to say you felt stuffed, and luke was making more noise than you. 

whimpers, grunts, he tried to hide them all behind the confines of his lips, but they dug their nails into his throat and crawled their way up until it was impossible for him to hold them back. as soon as you began moving, luke was purely fighting for his life against the own noises leaving him to the point of where he had to sit up, pressing his lips to your neck, he was quick to press his lips against the sensitive areas, biting, sucking— he wasn’t even sure if he was doing it properly, but he was just so desperate. 

he wanted you to shatter him like fine porcelain, to snap off his glass parts and crush them underneath your fingers with pure ease, to deconstruct every inch of him that he had taken years to build. no matter how empty he would feel in the end, to put himself in your hands, like a lump of clay in the hands of a goddess, he trusted your instincts. 

“i want you to ruin me,” he mumbles against the flesh of your neck, barely audible. 

“what?” your voice is breathless between moans, walls tightening around his dick with each movement of your hips. 

he whimpers out a simple, “sorry.” 

you didn’t forget his words, though, in fact, you let your fingers run through his dark curls, tangling through them until you tugged him back from your neck, just so you can take his place, now the one pressing your lips to his neck. he felt small underneath you, but he didn’t hate it, he liked the way that your lips felt on his skin, enough for him to lean his head back to provide you more blank canvas. 

you painted him in maroons and mulberries, blooming rose petals on his skin, marking him as your own. no matter how much luke knew he would be praying for forgiveness tonight, in this moment, everything he’s ever stood for has fallen off his broad shoulders. his hair is messy and sticking to his sweaty forehead, skin peppered with bite marks, deep reds, purples, every color in between and beyond.

“‘m gonna—“ luke’s words come out choked, dick pulsing inside of you, “gonna cum—“ 

luke’s orgasm hits him hard enough to have tears pooling into his eyes, maybe it was the guilt, or the everlasting pleasure, he wasn’t entirely sure, how could he even be? all he could think of was you, now. 

“do you still believe in god?” you offer him once you’re off him and he’s putting his belt back on. 

he stares at you for a second, hesitating, then his lips part, “yes.” 

[highdefhoetry]

in the library.

cw: nsfw!! female reader, public sex in library (discreet), penetration (vaginal fingering), handjob, blowjob

summary: you’re desperate to stay quiet. he’s determined to make you scream.

There are only a handful of people in the library when you run into Zayne. You cross paths in the last aisle, where the “adult” novels could be found. You were trying to take a Nora Roberts book from the shelf when your hand brushed against something cold yet familiar. When you looked up, your eyes met those of your classmate. Well, former, back when you two were in the same gen ed course. He stood calmly on the other side of the shelf with a piercing gaze that sent chills down your back. 

“(Y/N),” he greets you with a slight nod of his head. 

“Dr. Zayne,” you awkwardly return his greeting, but when you look back to the empty space on the shelf, you find he’s already gone. He appears at your side in a heartbeat, his hazel eyes focused on the book you’re holding. 

“I’m not a doctor yet,” he corrects you.

“Haven’t you skipped a bunch of courses, though? You’re pretty much set to be one by the end of the year.”

“Unlikely. I still have a ways to go.”

Suddenly you become hyper aware of how close he’s standing. His shoulder brushes against yours as he takes the book from your hand in one smooth motion. You watch as his elegant fingers sift through the worn down pages, gently tugging each one at the corners. 

“For Now, Forever,” he reads the title. “An excellent choice.”

“You’ve read Nora Roberts?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“Well, yeah. I thought you only read boring medical texts.”

“That’s mostly true. But even I need breaks from my studies.”

“Breaks to read smutty novels?”

Silence. It seems you’ve caught him off guard. He clears his throat, and you notice his ears reddening a little.

“I was only curious about this one because it involved characters in the medical field,” he gives you a weak excuse. “I’m not a connoisseur of erotica, unlike some people.”

“Hey! Don’t say it like that. You make me sound like some kind of pervert.”

He chuckles softly at your expense.

“If I’m not mistaken, this novel in particular has a number of… graphic scenes,” he comments, his eyes drifting to your face in the process.

“I mean, yeah… all of her books are like that,” you say, trying to sound casual despite your heated cheeks. It was embarrassing having him comment on things like this so candidly. And by the way he was smirking, you could tell he was doing it on purpose. 

“You must have enjoyed these lewd scenes, too. Or else you wouldn’t have read it.”

A sudden streak of mischief takes over. You take a small step forward, closing the gap between you. His lips part as if he’s about to say something, but he remains silent.

“Speaking of that…” you tease. “Do you remember the part where they’re in the library? I think it went a little something like this…”

You place your hands on his chest, running them over his iron-pressed shirt to feel the muscles underneath. The hem is tucked into the waistband of his pants; you tug on it ever so slightly until it comes undone, allowing you access to his bare skin. He doesn’t stop you when you sneak your hands under his shirt, nor does he protest when you run your palms on his stomach. You hear his breath hitch slightly when you wander a little too low; as soon your eyes drift down and fall on the tent poking through his fitted pants, he suddenly grabs your hand and holds it firmly.

You look up again, locking eyes with the doctor in training, whose stony expression still hasn’t cracked. Although, he is looking a bit more strained…

“Zayne…?”

He pauses for a moment. Then, you see the corners of his lips curl up in a tiny smirk.

“...I remember it going a little differently.”

His steely eyes meet yours once again. You sense something deep inside them, struggling to break free, yet his demeanor remains as cool and controlled as ever. How many times have you wanted to break through that cold facade of his and curl up with the warmth of his heart? He hid it so well, but even the strongest armor had cracks. 

While you’re lost in thought, something flutters against your thigh, snaking up the hem of your skirt. The feeling makes your skin quiver, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle a small cry. Meanwhile, his fingers reach the lace edges of your panties and tug them down until they’re right above your knees. The sudden rush of cool air makes you shiver.

“Zayne…” you whisper, trying to keep quiet so you don’t garner the attention of the other visitors, or worse, the librarians themselves. You look around anxiously to make sure no one is nearby while his hands grope your thighs and hips. He takes his time feeling you up before finally caressing his cold hand on your outer lips. It makes you jump, but soon you feel a warmth spread through your body, fueled by his gentle circling of your clit.

“Shhh,” he leans forward to whisper in your ear, right before sliding a finger inside you.

You let out a tiny gasp, forcing back a moan as he curls his finger upwards, seeking out the elusive spot he knows will make you cum hard. He finds it and begins to stroke the spongy walls, slowly at first, then with a bit more force. All while pumping those beautiful fingers of his in and out, in and out, in a steady rhythmic fashion. It’s taking everything in you not to scream and moan. He chuckles as he watches your face twist in pleasure and your strained efforts to silence yourself.

“Mmm… mmph!!”

“Calm down,” he croons. “You need to stay quiet in the library.”

It’s the same thing the male lead had said to the heroine of the story. You remember it vividly, for you had pictured yourself in this exact scenario, with this exact same man. Zayne’s hands are quick and skilled; his thumb continues massaging your clit, putting just enough pressure on it to warm you up without bringing you over the edge. It’s driving you mad, how gentle yet forceful he is. He stares down at you from his massive height, lips slightly curved upwards in an amused smile while you fight to remain silent as his hands and fingers roam your body. Your heart has begun to pound so intensely you wonder if he can actually hear it.

You’re close. He can sense it, too. He chuckles again when you grab onto his arms, as if bracing yourself for impact. You squeeze your eyes shut as wave after wave of electrifying pleasures surge through your body. It’s taking everything in you not to scream. You force back every moan, only letting little gasps and groans escape when he hits you in just the right place. And from the grin on his face, you can tell it amuses him to no end.

A few moments later, you finally cum. You bite your lip, feel your eyes roll in the back of your head, let out fluttered sighs as you squirt all over his hand. He caresses your waist and hips, relishes the way you twitch and shudder under his hands. The orgasm made you extra sensitive, so every touch feels like cold fire. You open your eyes to meet his, letting your lips part as you take in large gulps of air while trying to regain your composure. His soft gaze makes your heart dance. He doesn’t say anything, opting instead to admire the sight of your flushed skin and relieved expression.

But his own expression soon turns to one of restraint. His gaze falters when he feels your hand grope the tent in his pants. You rub the tip with an increasing amount of pressure and smile when you hear stifled grunts emerge from his throat. His brows furrow slightly in determination, as if he is focusing all his attention on retaining his composure. But you see the mask slip when you unzip his pants and let loose his stiff member.

Still covered by black boxers, you sneak your hands into the slit in the middle and take hold of his shaft. He grunts softly, almost losing it when you begin caressing the tip and teasing the length of his cock. You start off slow and take your time fondling him, noting what makes him sigh and gasp and when his breath becomes more erratic, more desperate. 

You pause briefly to look around, once again making sure that no one is looking, before falling to your knees.

Before he can protest, you take his cock in your mouth and run your tongue along his shaft, stopping only to kiss and lick his tip before going on. The muffled sounds he’s making are delightful. His grunts start off quiet, but the longer you suck him off, the louder they grow. He grabs fistfuls of your hair, firmly but gently so as not to hurt you, and pulls you close until his cock is hitting the back of your throat. You suppress the urge to gag; it won’t be much longer until he cums.

After a few deep thrusts and more teasing from your mouth and tongue, he erupts his load into you, gasping quietly while still holding onto your locks. You taste his cum and swallow it all, savoring the warmth he’s given you. You slowly guide his cock out of your mouth and stand back up, smiling at him while his heavy breathing subsides. He zips up his pants with a relieved sigh, as if he just released a lifetime’s worth of stress.

“Well?” you whisper. “How did it end, again…?”

Zayne looks down at you with eyes full of affection, taking your chin in hand and gently pulling your face up.

“I believe it went like this.”

He kisses you softly, and his icy exterior melts in your hands.

[iris-qt]

𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞

🪻 ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🪻 ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

🪻 ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

🪻 ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ…ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ!

🪻 ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ɪꜱ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴛᴏɪᴄ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʟᴍ…ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴇꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴏɴ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ꜱʜʏ, ʙᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ʙᴏʏ

Perhaps it was your awkward glances. Or maybe the way you’d do something silly like accidentally write the wrong year for today’s date then nervously survey the area as if anyone would notice. If anyone were to notice they’d have to be looking very closely…practically observing you. And that is precisely the gift Theodore Nott had been given as he was sat one bench above you in the DADA classroom his gaze directly hitting your paper and the side of your stressed and contorted face.

Yes this test was difficult but Theodore has studied incessantly for it. You see, Theodore Nott never studies but he had a plan. A plan that he chickened out on last minute.

The night prior he had been sitting in the library waiting for your arrival. He knows you arrive around 8pm right after dinner and quidditch practice. You were about to sit when Theodore Nott appeared in your peripheral with a slight deranged half smile on his face. His face rarely showed emotion but there was something manic in it at the moment per your mental Theo facial expression log.

“Hi Theo, you okay?” you lightly laugh as you see him stumble a bit.

Theodore mentally thanked himself for evading his friends’ questions as to where he heads off to around this time because if they saw the usually stoic Nott stumbling over his feet in front of this girl he’d never hear the end of it.

“Yes…yes I was just wondering if you needed some studying company?”

You smile warmly at him his presence itself warming you up from the cold you had just endure in the November night air while at Quidditch practice.

“I’ll definitely need someone to wake me up in case I fall asleep reading about the theoretical applications of non-verbal spell casting…you’re hired Nott.”

Theo smirks as he sits himself down a bit too close to you. He realizes in a panic and jerks back almost tilting over in his haste if you hadn’t steadied his chair.

“Theo, maybe you should cut down on those cigarettes,” you smirk as a light rouge paints his carved face.

Theo feels like digging a hole in the library ground and burying himself in it away from your hypnotic gaze but, at the same time, he cannot help but bask in it.

Initially his plan was working as he hoped it would. You admitted the things you didn’t know and Theo helped you brush up on it and quizzed you on certain terms. You both had even found some time to laugh and joke about things such as the drawer filled collection of ballerina hair gel Theo had found Draco hoarding in the “forbidden drawer”. They were both becoming comfortable and Theo lost his edge as he melted into your presence. Things went downhill after that as perhaps Theo became a bit too comfortable. As he was watching you read a portion of your textbook…your lips moving in slow motion and your eyebrows scrunched in the most adorable manner…he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath out:

“You’re so cute..”

You perked up as you couldn’t believe your ears. While your brain was immersed in the world of DADA your senses were in high alert within the presence of the boy you adored in silence.

“What did you just say?”

Theo at this point went into full lockdown mode as he slightly jumped exclaiming “I said you look like a boot!!” he blurted out as if that would salvage him in her eyes…her gorgeous, bright eyes.

You looked quite puzzled as you didn’t know exactly what that meant. Perhaps it was the way you had styled your hair? Or done your makeup? His sentence made zero sense and you weren’t quite sure how to feel.

Theo, however, had lost his marbles while he seemed expressionless on the outside his brain was short-circuiting.

“Uh…you know what I think I need to leave to um…use the loo? Yes I wonder what they put in that pumpkin juice because let me just tell you, y/n, it was NOT good…you think the elves are after me?,” he laughs nervously as he quickly slams his book shut attracting the attention of every student in the library as the sound echoes off the shelves.

“Merlin, where’d I get that strength!” he strains out with that same deranged, manic look returning to his face except this time in more volume. Before you could utter a word Theo scrambles out of the library. It takes you a few seconds to piece together what just happened but you eventually stand up leaving your things behind to find Theo. But once you reach the entrance of the library he was long gone…

You had spent a while pondering that occurrence and what he said to you. That night you had laid awake in bed. You were sure he had said you were cute, right? I mean obviously. Theodore had always been jumpy since you had officially met him that one day in 5th year in Potions as you two were partners. He was quiet yet endearing and you had fallen instantly. The only problem was your adoration for him had always felt like a dead end. As shy as he seemed Theo got around and to be fair you’d never felt like you had a chance…were you blind? No of course not. You were realistic…right?

And so we return to the day of the test and Theo who had finished 20 minutes early due to his vast knowledge he has filled his privileged brain with simply for, well, you. You were his everything. You had stolen the very air he breathed from the moment you slid in next to him in Potions. You held his breath captive and he simply couldn’t act human next to you. You loosened him up more than any of his expensive Italian cigarettes could. He was addicted.

After class Theo had begun his walk to his next class when he heard his favorite voice calling his name. God if he could only record your voice in one of those muggle devices. Mental note to buy one of those next time he secretly visited muggle London. He slowly spun around gripping his messenger bag for dear life for he could feel himself becoming light headed already.

“I think I had an aneurysm taking that test,” you laugh indulging in Theo’s dazed expression as it fuels your confidence. “I just wanted to tell you that you look cute..” you purposefully mumble the last part so that Theo could barely catch your words.

Theo’s heart soared and dropped and did somersaults all at the same time when he heard your words. “Wh-what?”

“I said you look like a grapefruit!” you yell falling into a fit of laughter as Theo gazes at you looking dumbstruck.

“I think this is the part I run away,” you quip raising your eyebrow at him playfully

“No I think this is the part I shake myself out of it and just ask the girl of my dreams on a date,” Theo breathes out attempting to recover from his actions the day before

You put your hand above your eyes as if shielding them from the sun as you stare into the distance. “Where is she? Can I meet her?” you bite back your laughter, gazing up at Theo’s watercolor eyes alive with the most tender of emotions.

Theo laughs shaking his head hesitantly removing your hand from your face and clasping it in his as if it were a rare jewel he has been searching for for decades and had finally found it. As if you were his life’s work finally accomplished.

“Look no further, y/n, she’s standing right here.”

[rogueddie]

There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.

Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.

He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”

“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.

“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”

“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”

"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."

It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.

With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.

Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.

At first, nothing happens.

Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.

After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.

"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."

Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.

"Fuck this," he says.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.

He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.

But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.

"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"

"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."

"Fuck."

"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."

"Or?"

"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."

He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.

"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.

"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"

"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."

Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.

"Your mom," he repeats.

"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.

"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."

"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."

"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."

"Please?"

"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."

"You're joking."

"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."

"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"

"On your head..."

Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?

Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-

He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.

"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.

At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.

"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."

"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"

"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."

Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.

He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.

Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝒲𝐻𝐸𝑁 𝒴𝑂𝑈 𝐻𝑈𝑅𝑇 𝒯𝐻𝐸𝑀 𝐷𝑈𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐴𝑁 𝒜𝑅𝐺𝑈𝑀𝐸𝑁𝑇 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 엔하이픈 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ angst ៸ hyung line ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which the aftermath of a harsh argument takes place .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕0.5k-1k per member ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not edited ៸ arguing ៸ skinship ៸ a bit repetitive:c ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 — srry for inactivity:( imy guys<3 𖥔 ݁˖

୨୧ ‎이희승 ── 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

after the argument, heeseung locks himself in his room, a common behavior you’ve come to expect when things get tense between you.

usually, he just needs a moment to cool down, but this time, it feels different—like there’s a deeper wound you’ve left behind.

you stand outside his door, taking a breath before knocking gently. "heeseung, can we talk?"

for a second, there’s only silence— then, you hear the soft creak of the bed, but no answer.

you hesitate before turning the knob, stepping into the dim-lit room.

he’s sitting at the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, his hands clasped tightly between his knees.

you felt your heart break at the sight— he looked lost, his usual playful warmth replaced with a heavy sadness.

you quietly sit next to him, the air between you feeling fragile.

“heeseung,” you whisper, your voice soft, “i’m really sorry. i never meant to hurt you.” ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 !

he doesn’t say anything at first, his lips pressed into a thin line as he exhales slowly.

when he finally speaks, his voice is low and filled with vulnerability.

“you say that, but… it feels like you don’t think before you speak. like… you don’t care how it makes me feel.”

his words hit you hard, and tears prick at your eyes. “i do care, hee. i care so much. i just—”

you take a deep breath, feeling the guilt swell in your chest.

“i was upset, and i let my emotions get the best of me. i don’t want you to feel like i don’t care. you mean everything to me.”

heeseung finally looks at you, his eyes softer but still guarded.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

“it makes me feel like i’m losing you.”

the vulnerability in his voice shatters the distance between you, and without thinking, you reach for his hand, holding it tightly.

“you’re not losing me, heeseung,” you murmur, tears threatening to spill.

“i’m not going anywhere. i love you, and i’ll do better, i promise.”

for the first time, a small, hesitant smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

he squeezes your hand back, his grip warm and reassuring.

“i love you too,” he whispers, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

“let’s not do this again, okay?”

you nod, closing your eyes as you lean into him, the weight of the argument fading as his arms wrap around you. “okay. i promise.”

୨୧ ‎박종성 ── 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

jay stands in the kitchen, his back to you as he rinses a dish in the sink.

his movements are slow and deliberate, and the tension in the air is thick.

he hasn’t said much since your argument, and it’s killing you inside.

jay is rarely ever angry, but when he is, it’s a quiet kind of anger that makes the silence feel unbearable.

you approach him cautiously, feeling the weight of your words hanging between you.

“jay…” you begin softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm.

he stiffens for a moment but doesn’t pull away.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

jay turns off the faucet, placing the dish down with a soft clink before turning around to face you.

his expression is calm, but his eyes are clouded with hurt.

“it’s not just about the argument,” he says quietly. “it’s the way you said things… like you didn’t even think about how it would make me feel.”

his words make your heart sink, and you immediately regret everything you said in the heat of the moment.

“i was upset,” you murmur, tears gathering in your eyes.

“but that’s not an excuse. i’m so sorry, jay. you didn’t deserve that.”

jay’s gaze softens as he sees the tears welling up in your eyes, and he takes a step closer, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“i know you didn’t mean it,” he says quietly, his voice more gentle now. “but it still hurt.”

your heart aches at the sadness in his voice, and you reach up, gently cupping his face in your hands.

“i’ll do better, jay,” you whisper, your thumb brushing over his cheek.

“i love you, and i never want to make you feel like this again.”

jay lets out a small sigh, his shoulders finally relaxing as he leans into your touch.

“i just… i don’t want to fight with you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i hate it.”

you shake your head, stepping closer until your forehead is pressed against his chest.

“me neither,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “i love you too much to fight like this.”

jay wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“we’re okay,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“we’ll always be okay.”

୨୧ ‎심재윤 ── 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐌

jake sits on the couch, his arms crossed as he stares blankly at the tv.

the usually vibrant energy between you two has been replaced by a heavy, painful silence.

you hate it when things are like this—when jake shuts down and distances himself after an argument.

you sit beside him quietly, your heart racing with guilt and regret.

“jake…” you begin softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m really sorry.”

he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, his jaw clenched as he looks away from you.

his silence makes your heart ache, and you feel the weight of your words sinking deeper into your chest.

“i didn’t mean what i said,” you continue, your voice trembling with emotion.

“i was upset, and i said things i shouldn’t have. but i didn’t mean any of it.”

jake finally turns his head slightly, his expression softening as he hears the sincerity in your voice.

“you always say you didn’t mean it,” he mutters, his voice quiet but filled with hurt.

“but it still hurts me, you know?”

tears prick at your eyes as you reach for his hand, grasping it tightly.

“i know it does,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“and i’m so sorry, jake. i never want to hurt you. i love you so much, and i hate when we’re like this.”

jake’s expression softens even more as he hears the crack in your voice.

he finally turns to face you fully, his gaze filled with a mixture of frustration and affection.

“i just… i don’t like it when we fight,” he admits quietly, his voice barely audible.

“it makes me feel like you don’t trust me.”

your heart breaks at the vulnerability in his voice, and you immediately wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“i do trust you, jake,” you whisper, tears falling down your cheeks.

“i trust you with everything. i’m so sorry for making you feel like i don’t.”

jake lets out a small, shaky breath as he leans into your embrace, his arms wrapping around you in return.

“i just want us to be okay,” he murmurs against your shoulder, his voice soft and shaky.

“we are,” you whisper, holding him even tighter.

“we’re always going to be okay— no matter what, jake. i love you.”

jake pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth despite the lingering sadness.

“i love you too,” he whispers, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“let’s not fight again, okay?”

you nod, resting your head against his chest as you both sit in comfortable silence, the warmth of his embrace melting away the tension.

୨୧ ‎박성훈 ── 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

sunghoon sits by the window, his arms wrapped around himself as he stares out at the lively city below.

his usual calm, collected demeanor has cracked, and you can see the hurt in his eyes even from across the room.

he’s quiet, too quiet, and it makes your heart ache.

you take a deep breath and approach him slowly, unsure of how to break the heavy silence.

“sunghoon?” you whisper, your voice soft and hesitant.

he doesn’t even turn to look at you, his gaze fixed on the window.

“what?” he mutters, his voice colder than usual, but you can hear the hurt underneath it.

“i’m really sorry,” you say quietly, sitting down beside him.

“i didn’t want to hurt you.”

sunghoon lets out a small, bitter laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“you say that,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “but it doesn’t stop it from hurting.”

your heart tightens at the vulnerability in his voice, and you reach out to gently take his hand.

“i know,” you whisper, squeezing his hand lightly.

“and i’ll do better. i don’t want to make you feel like this, sunghoon. you mean everything to me.”

he stays quiet for a moment, his fingers twitching slightly in your grasp. when he finally speaks, his voice is softer, more vulnerable.

“it just… it feels like you don’t think before you say things. like you don’t care how it makes me feel.”

tears prick at your eyes as you realize how much your words have hurt him.

you gently cup his face with your free hand, turning him to look at you.

“i do care, sunghoon,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “i care so much. i love you, and i’m so sorry. please don’t shut me out.”

sunghoon’s eyes finally meet yours, and the walls he’s put up seem to crumble.

he lets out a small, shaky breath and leans into your touch, his forehead resting gently against yours.

“i just don’t want to lose you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

“you won’t,” you murmur, your glistening tears rolling down your cheeks.

“i’m not going anywhere, sunghoon. i promise.”

he closes his eyes, letting the tension drain from his body as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

“i love you, even though you can be a bit much..” he whispers, his voice soft and teasing.

“i love you too,” you whisper back with a grin, holding him tightly as the hurt between you fades away, replaced with warmth and understanding.

© won4kiss 2024

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[hadersversion]

i had a long day but obviously there’s only one thing on my mind….if you guessed logan howlett, you’re correct! but if you guessed old man! logan, i owe ya a scratchy on friday ;)

but….

imagine old man! logan and a librarian! reader.

logan, laura, and charles moved out into the countryside in oregon. settling down in a nice cabin in the woods, town being a few miles away.

you lived nearby, all by your lonesome. you worked in town at the local library. charles brought laura in the one day, searching for some old book that you’re pretty sure they stopped printing in the 70s…but you didn’t want to let the old geezer down so you did some digging. you watched as laura walked around the building, eyes open in awe. it’s almost like she’s never seen a library before. she stopped in front of a child’s chapter book collection, eyeing it up.

“that one’s my favorite, you could borrow it if you want to. i’m sure your grandfather would let ya get a library card.” you winked at her.

she looked at you then the books, a small smile appearing. she grabbed the book and walked up to the counter with you, charles eagerly waiting to see what laura picked. you start to get laura’s library card ready, turning your back on the two.

“there you two are, got me thinking i lost ya out there.” a gruff voice said from behind.

you turned around, library card and book in hand.

“what the hells that?” he asks.

the man is tall, older looking. but nonetheless handsome. his broad shoulders being hugged by a flannel.

“a library card. for laura.” you smile, handing it over to her. “remember in two weeks you have to return it. or whenever your finished.” you said.

logan looked down at you, studying your kind demeanor. you’re cute, he thought, really cute. the large cardigan covering your body as glasses sit atop your head. but logan being logan, pushes down any feeling and huffs. “cars running, let’s go.”

charles and laura wave bye before leaving, you watch as the man pushes him out. his shoulders are tensed. his grey hair sticking up every which way and his matching beard needing a trim. but something about him intrigued you.

laura and charles become regulars at the library, constantly visiting and perusing the shelves. often spending hours just reading and enjoying the silence. and there’s logan, waiting around like he has something better to do.

“ya know, readings actually good for you? right?” you joke.

he rolls his eyes. “got more important things to do than sit around in this stuffy place all day.”

“grumpy.” you mutter, causing him to look over at you. “why don’t you go look for something? there’s gotta be something you like!”

he shakes his head. “doubt it.”

you grab his hand and pull him towards the shelves. “come on, give it a try.” you pour your lip.

his breathe hitches and his eyes burn into you. he’s never been this close to you. been able to smell your scent of a flowery perfume and bubblegum. his demeanor changes a bit, staring at your lips. if he was already thinking about you a lot, this was definitely not helping. “fine.”

you spend the afternoon looking for anything that will please this man.

“war books?”

“been there, done that.”

“art history?”

“do i look like an art professor?”

“maybe in a past time.” you wink. “hmm, cooking?”

he shakes his head.

“god, you’re so hard to please.” you go through each section. “the history of harley davidson?”

this piqued his interest. “let me see that.” he grabs it, pushing his glasses off his head and onto his face.

you could do a celebration dance. “told ya!”

“yeah, yeah. let me go find the kid and the old man to check this book out.”

logan starts joining the two on the library trips. he says it’s to find more books on automotives. but charles often teases him that it’s to see his favorite librarian.

he denies but even laura knows the truth.

the old man has a crush.

[angelickisscs]

all he could ever want ~ blurb ‧₊˚

‧₊˚ ୨ ୧ ˚₊ pairing ~ jude bellingham x reader

summary: a usual night with you and your boyfriend

NO SOUNDS CHALLENGED that of the TV show Jude had opted for. Somehow, you managed to keep your focus on the page in front of you, your eyes slowly moving from side to side.

A comfortable silence washed itself upon your living room, just like that of a calm sea. Neither of you felt the need to say something to one another, all your talking having happened all throughout your day.

Warmth emitted from the missing sun, it still leaving its mark no matter what. It wasn’t humid however, the heat being the kind that didn’t make you sticky but rather just hung in the air, showing its presence with no consequence to those around.

You had your legs perched upon his lap, his hand mindlessly creeping under the pyjama bottoms, that you had stolen from him, so he was able to run it across your leg.

This had become your nightly routine ever since moving in with each other. How it came about? You wouldn’t know. It had just come about one day and ever since, the both of you had unconsciously followed it.

It was coming up on 10pm when Jude had turned off the television show, his head falling backwards to rest against the sofa as his eyes stared lovingly down at you.

The strong aroma of flowers clung to your nose, the fresh bunch that he had brought for you only that morning being placed on the table in front of you. They were beautiful, some of the best he had ever brought you. Though you could not name the particular types they were, their colours were majestic and that was enough for you.

“What are you reading?” He questioned softly, not daring to break the peace that encircled you.

You looked up from your book, the word that you had just read quickly leaving your mind. “Just some random romance book I found at the library.”

Turning it around, you let your eyes quickly scan the blurb, reading aloud the parts that described the book the best.

He chuckled at that, the vibrations bouncing throughout your calf muscles. You couldn’t do anything but turn your head to the side, your mind coming up blank as to what he could be laughing at.

Jude seemed to swiftly catch onto your confusion, a smile settling onto his face.

“Read it to me?”

His voice was small, almost nervous as you could hardly make out his loving eyes through the darkness. The singular light that pressured into making the whole room bright enough seemed to have given up, its golden hue hardly making it past the corner that it sat in.

You nodded, opening your arms so he could make himself comfortable. And he did just that, his head finding solace in your neck as his hands wrapped around your waist, their stroking motion restarting but this time on your back.

Flipping to the first page, you began. His breath was warm against your skin, it’s evenness a calming noise. One of your hands held the book whilst the other was in Jude’s hair, the paring of your movements and voice meaning that he fell asleep quicker than he would have liked too.

He could have listened to your voice all day and night, opting for that over anything that the TV could provide for him. It was gentle, perfectly becoming his favourite kind of hug on a chilly day.

It was all he could ever want, and he could not be happier that he had gotten it.