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#simply it's way more listenable if I cut them out
pipiririo · 3 days
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hi! i have a request idea
the characters with a lot of charisma and seem more confident e.g oikawa, kuroo, Gojo. there confident facade breaks and yn comforts them perhaps after a long day or something 🫠
feel no pressure for this and take care :))
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.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。•
Beneath The Mask
characters: tooru oikawa, tetsurou kuroo, satoru gojo
warning: small nsfw joke
[word count: 1489]
Request by our first anon! Ty anon, I hope you like it🙂‍↕️
.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。.❀。•
Summary: Seemingly unattainable goals, long days, and high expectations may cause certain people to rip at the seams. Luckily for them, they will always have someone at their side to sow them back together.
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Oikawa—
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✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Tooru was not normally one to let his emotions get the best of him, especially not during a game. When you had watched him begin to drink bottles upon bottle of water whilst his eyes kept darting to the scoreboard, you knew something was wrong. He was someone who focused all of his attention on the success of his team, not of him as an individual. But because today he was hyper-fixated on an individual, he responded with the same actions.
You were worried, to say the least.
These past two months all you have seen from him is constant smiles as he gave the best advice to his teammates and even his classmates. He would smile to all of his fan girls and when he was finally able to walk home with you, he would stay quiet. Being quiet for him indicated that he was exhausted. Who could blame him? He was putting in all this effort for the people around him, yet it was simply not enough.
Nothing was ever enough to Tooru Oikawa.
Luckily for him though, everything he did was more than enough for you.
And now here you were with an exhausted Tooru laying his head on your lap as he ranted about the past few months. You gently raked one of your hands through his brown hair. From the way he was lying, his hair flopped backwards, revealing his forehead. He heavily sighed before continuing with his next tale.
“Oh, and get this—he told me I should’ve gone to shiratorizawa. Can you believe the nerve?!” He complained.
You slightly chuckled as you closed your eyes. Your free hand rested gently against his cheek. “Unfortunately, I believe it. You know he’s been like this since middle school, Tooru.” You replied. This was something you did every once in a while in order to let him know that you were still listening.
He let out a deep breath as he slowly relaxed his body in order to lean into your touch.
It became silent until he spoke up.
“Sorry you have to listen to—“ Before he could finish, the hand that was resting against his cheek quickly covered his mouth in order to block his next few words. He opened his eyes in surprise to meet your own. He was in awe as he was met with your caring gaze.
“How many times have I told you to stop apologizing to me?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.
He decided to test you, removing your hand from his face in order to speak.
“Don’t you have essays to write? How about you—“
Your lips interrupted him as you gently placed them atop of his own. A slow and very small peck, but one that undoubtedly worked.
Instead of being surprised, he smiled a smug smile.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re so stubborn. You had best be glad I love you.”
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Kuroo—
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✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Tetsu?” You looked up from your phone as you heard some steps rushing towards you. Your eyes narrowed in worry as you noticed that the black haired bed head seemed to have been looking for you everywhere. You assumed that it only occurred to him they you would be waiting for him in the same spot where you meet up after practice.
“What’s wro—“ Your voice was cut off by his arms pulling you towards him in a strong yet loving embrace. By his lack of words, you had already figured something overwhelming must have happened either at practice or with one of the advanced classes he was taking.
There weren’t many people around anymore since it was about two hours past school hours and most people’s club’s had already ended, so you didn’t have to worry about someone passing by the two of you. You knew this moment in time was something that Tetsurou wanted to keep between the two of you.
It took you a moment to get your thoughts together, silently melting into him as your hand rubbed small circles against his back. Your lips slowly parted and you spoke twirly and softly.
“Do you want to come over to my place? I’ll order us food.” You tried to negotiate with him to make him feel better, and it seemed to have worked as he pulled away with a smirk on his face.
“Maybe I should get upset more often. I don’t really see you like this often.” He joked, causing you to snort.
“Next time I’ll just kick you into a better mood.” You replied to his little joke, pulling away to grab him by the hand instead. You lightly pulled to motion for him to walk. “Now—walk and talk. What happened?” You finally ask.
He accedes to your gesture and begins to walk hand in hand with you. He shrugged and looked up as he explained. “Being a captain and president isn’t easy work, you know.” He said nonchalantly.
‘Ah, so he is overwhelmed. And it’s college application season…’
“Trust me, I know. The student council doesn’t take excuses for late paperwork easily. Besides, it’s college season. You can take a day off, you know.” You reassured him.
He only responded with a small laugh. “I guess so.”
The walk back to your house was rather quiet, but it was a calming quiet. The Sakura trees were in full bloom even as the sky turned from a shade of orange to a soft shade of pink and purple.
“Thanks.” Tetsurou’s voice filled your ears suddenly as you neared your house. When you had looked up to him with a raised eyebrow, you noticed that he wasn’t looking your way. Rather, he was looking straight ahead. Seemed like he was a bit embarrassed when it came to things like that.
You smiled and leaned into him, your head against his arm.
“Any time.”
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Gojo—
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✩ ♬ ₊.written⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“Sooo…are you gonna explain that last message or…?” You tapped your foot against the wooden floors, your back resting against the wall behind you whilst the man in front of you took off his jacket, leaving him in a button up. His glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose. He threw the jacket over to the couch beside you, which distracted you. You turned your head to see the jacket land, but ended up feeling Satoru’s arms wrap around your waist and pulling you up.
You gasped in surprise, looking at him in bewilderment as he carried you over to your shared bedroom. He plopped you down on the bed and joined you shortly afterwords by laying damn near on top of you, knocking your breath out of you.
He then sighed dramatically. “Just tired.” He mumbled as he buried his head at the crook of your neck. In turn, you sighed at his antics, but you knew he would usually laugh it off it wasn’t something important.
“The strongest can express his emotions too, you know~?” You spoke in a sing-song voice, trying to motivate him to speak.
Unfortunately, Satoru was not a man that would budge so easily.
“The strongest has to stay that way for his fiancée to actually want him.” He retaliated.
You rolled your eyes and smacked the back of his head. His glasses fell off his face and landed on your chest. You picked them up and closed them gently to place them on the bedside counter. When you turned back to look at him, he was looking at you with his crystalline eyes.
“I like Satoru, the man who goes crazy over kikufuku. Having ‘Gojo’, the strongest man, is simply a bonus. Now if you were a bum like a certain beggar, then that would be different.” You reassured him as you raked your hand through his hair.
Satoru laughed at your explanation before placing soft pecks to your collarbone.
I few minutes of the same routinely affections, you pat the back of his head to signal for him to get up.
“Are you gonna eat the kikufuku or are you just gonna let it get hard?” You asked him with a feigned annoyed voice. However, his next words caused you to push him off of you.
“Something else is already hard unfortunately. Do you wanna deal with that first~?”
“Yeah, you’re done. I’m eating them by myself.”
He quickly got up to run after you, chasing you around your house as you tempted him with the kikufuku in your hands, a grin on your face. He eventually caught you after letting you have your fun and made the two of you fall on the couch with him on top of you. He grabbed one of the kikufuku and took a bite, whilst you bit the other end.
The Strongest was a title given at birth, but Satoru is who he chose to be. It just so happened to be the person you chose to be with for the rest of your life, too.
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~
I am posting this half asleep bcs I have work tmrw morning 😾 (im going to blow my head off)
Anywho, I hope everyone liked it!
I’ll knock out the next requests tmrw!
Animated dividers created by @/cafekitsune!
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messylustt · 1 day
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 ݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ deer in headlights — rafe cameron + reader ( obx ) : when trying to help your sad friend at a party leads to an unexpected kiss from rafe.
contents : slight dick!rafe. nsfw intentions (not full on sex tho). slight dubcon (not heavy or roughly forced) tittie licking/sucking. tittie grab. kissing.
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your eyes scanned the party mess. it had only been an hour or so. but more than likely people came drunk way before. most go from party to party, trying to find one that won’t get busted. we’ll see how long this one lasts.
girls yelping, some giggling, most a boy crazy mess. guys hollering, others giggling themselves, nearly twirling their hair at the bent over girls “enjoying” their drinks. you couldn’t help but smile. even though you never found yourself in the centre of it all, you were far from hating the experience.
but that’s when you spotted your friend, scarlet, bolt upstairs, pushing her sleeve down to her fingertips to wipe the mix of tears and mascara from her face. you stood up, tilting past the edge of the couch to reach her.
“scarlet!” you call, trying to quicken your steps. what had happened? she either ignores you or simply can’t hear over the drowning base of the music.
you follow her upstairs. “scarlet?” you call again. and this time she shifts her gaze, her head turning towards you.
“hey..” you smile softly reaching her side. “what’s wrong? why the tears?”
scarlets bottom lip quivers, even if she trying to force it down, while her brows remain furrowed and bent with hurt. she looks as though she wishes to say something, but then she gulps. her expression pales as she rushes into the bathroom, but not before she shuts the door stopping you from entering.
scarlet was always a little complicated. easily embarrassed despite her confidence.
there’s a moment where all you can hear is puking as you try to turn the handle finding that the door is locked. “no. don’t come in.” she says, breathless after a moment.
“scarlet—“ you say in protest, wanting to help. “no! please.” she replies, cutting you off.
you sigh, knowing she hates anyone seeing her puke. “i just wanna help.” you try.
“no I—“ you can hear her hiccuped breathing. “i don’t want him to know…” her tone is almost pitiful.
“who?” you ask standing by the door.
“kelce…”
“kelce?” your brows furrow before thinning out. “is he the boy you kept telling me about?”
she sniffles. “maybe..”
“scarlet…” you say softly “what happened?”
“it was a joke. all of it. ‘sleep with the slut’.” she scoffs. “just because i like boys…a lot of them doesn’t mean i’m some…look liking dick shouldn’t be some god awful issue.”
your brows furrow again, but this time in anger. you hadn’t known kelce that well. only through living on this island, like most. but you had thought he was merely a guy looking to stay ‘cool’ or ‘popular’, not an outright dick.
not like his friend, rafe. rafe cameron. now, if anyone was to easily be called a ‘dick’ it would be him.
“are you sure i can’t come in?” you ask. “please just…” she replies, to which you ease her. “it’s okay. just relax…let me go get you some water.”
you rush back downstairs, squeezing past the out of tuned drunks, and high teens. you head to the kitchen. but as you do, you catch a conversation going on in the hallway.
“i fucked her over man…” the voice, you can identify as kelce’s. “i…why did i do that?”
“hey, calm down. don’t get worked up alright?” the other voice…rafe’s.
“nah man..” kelce sounds stressed, almost on the verge of tears.
“listen to me man. it was a stupid joke. she shouldn’t have taken it to heart, yeah?” rafe’s tone is dismissing towards scarlet, which honestly doesn’t leave you very surprised.
“fuck..” kelce mutters “but now she doesn’t…want me…want anything to do with me most likely.”
“then move on.” rafe replies, speaking as though that concept is a breeze.
“move on…” kelce mutters, repeating slowly.
“yeah, move on. you’re at a party for christs sake. have fun. plenty of girls around.” rafe replies, hitting kelce’s shoulder by the sounds of it.
you peek slightly round the corner to watch them.
kelce sighs rubbing his head roughly.
“go get ‘em man. go on” rafe pats kelce’s back as he slightly pushes him towards the heat of the party. you quickly return behind the doorway as he passes.
you wait a moment before looking back to where they were talking to find rafe staring straight back at you. you pause, blinking. rafe’s head tilts, his expression not one of surprise, as if he had spotted you the moment your head poked out.
“you always eavesdrop?” rafe takes a swig from his beer. you step out, darting your gaze slightly.
“i was just getting some water…for my friend.” you reply as he begins to head over to you.
“yeah?” he hums nodding, as he stops a few step distances from you. “does that water trip include spying?”
“i didn’t catch much.” you reply.
“yeah, how much did you catch, deer?” he asks, his gaze darting over your face and down your body as if he’s trying to place you.
your brows furrow. “didn’t know you were one for…names like that.”
rafe scoffs “i meant ‘deer’ as in a deer caught in headlights, not the other ‘dear’.” he says tapping his beer bottle on your nose, gesturing to your round eyes.
your nose scrunches in response as you lean back, rubbing it. “i’m not ‘caught in headlights.’”
“no?” he replies. “or maybe you’re just starstruck.”
“by you?” you ask raising your brows. “i’m sorry, but you don’t have that ‘wonder’ to you, rafe.”
“a lot of girls think different.” he replies. “you’d look at me with ‘wonder’ if you’ve been seeing stars all night.”
you pause, staring at him, before his words register. “ew, rafe.”
“ouch.” he replies, completely unbothered, taking a swig.
“the majority of people who you make see ‘stars’ are those who have a ‘your-shaped-fist’ indent in their face.” you say edging back into the kitchen, preferring that this conversation ends sooner than later.
rafe scoffs, his face dropping, as he steps after you. “you’re not clever.”
“you seemed affected though.”
“re-size your brain, it ain’t that big”
you raise your hands in innocence, as you turn towards the sink, grabbing a clean empty glass. rafe leans up again the kitchen island, his legs planted in a slight spread.
you glance back at him, wondering why he’s still here.
he watches you.
“look, i’m sorry for eavesdropping. i only cared because…” you pause instinct telling you not to talk about your friend with the likes of rafe. but he clearly already knows.
“oh you got a reason? you’re not just simply…nosy?” rafe gives a fake-surprised look, as you stare blankly at him.
“you’re talking as if you know me.”
“i do know you.” he replies simply.
“no, um…you don’t.” you look confused.
“yeah…i do.”
“maybe we’ve had like…one proper conversation…” you say.
“nah, more than that.” why rafe is saying such simple sentences is a bother to you.
“alright, well…just because we’ve talked a couple times doesn’t mean you ‘know’ me.” you say filling the glass up with water looking back to the sink.
“you think I pay no attention to the people on this island?”
“yeah, sure, briefly. i do the same.” you reply shrugging. “you’re acting as though you know my favourite colour or something.”
“orange.”
you look to rafe, staring at him. “what?”
he crosses his arms, placing his beer to the side. “no, obviously i don’t know your favourite colour. i’m talking about behavioural observations, not stalker material, doll.”
“i thought you weren’t one for names like that.”
“i’m not.” he replies so simply again.
you look back to him seeing that he’s not going to explain any further. “okay…” you mutter moving past him with the glass of water.
“that for kelce’s fuck buddy?” rafe asks staying against the island.
you pause “I’m sorry?”
“what’s her name again?” rafe hums. “sophie?”
“scarlet.” you say with a frown. “and she was never kelce’s fuck buddy. she liked him.”
“yeah, most do like who they fuck.” rafe turns to you.
you narrow your gaze. “your buddy kelce may have thought of it like that, but she never did.”
“hearts break.” rafe states stepping closer “big deal.”
“yeah, it is a big deal. she’s hurt. and fair enough, cause if I got treated like that I’d react the same.”
“would you?” rafe asks. “have you?”
“gotten treated like that? luckily no. but it’s because she puts herself out there way more than me. she’s confident. actually gives it a go.”
“what a star.” rafe mocks.
“you’re all talk, rafe.” you say “because if a girl hurt you like that, I’d think you’d be worse.”
“really?” he looks down at you. “and what happened to not knowing each other that well?”
“you’re a loud bully. i’d have to be deaf not to easily hear about the things you’ve done.”
“you make it sound so dramatic.” rafe scoffs.
“you are rather dramatic.”
“look, doll,” rafe begins leaning down to level with you. “you can nurse sophie back all you want, comfort her, but you’re really not helping.”
“how so? do you have a better idea to help?” you ask raising your brows.
“yeah.” rafe says darting his gaze “enjoy the party. let them deal with it.”
“deal with it? you told kelce to go scout the girls here.” you say.
“yeah, and you actually think he listened to that? kelce is a bleeding heart. sensitive like a fucking kids movie.” rafe states. “no, he’s gone to talk to her. she’s crying in the bathroom right? i guarantee he’s there too.”
“and what makes you think she’d want to see him?”
rafe shrugs. “not our problem.”
“she’s my friend. of course it’s—“
but rafe cuts in, grabbing your shoulders. “not. our. problem.” he states slowly. “you think you rushing in there is going to help? they need to talk. kelce needs to talk.” rafe chuckles. “though if I were him, I wouldn’t bother, find someone new.”
“well thank god she didn’t sleep with you.” you mutter.
“jealous?”
“oh yes.” you nod sarcastically. “wouldn’t want her stealing you away.”
rafe’s lips quirk up. “yeah?”
“you look way too happy that i said that.” you eye him.
rafe grabs his beer off the kitchen island, bringing it between you both. “drink.”
you look at the bottle then back to his face. you shake your head. but rafe just nods, bringing the bottle to your lips. you lift your hand to protest but your glass of water spills a fraction making your hands pause, and giving him enough time to tilt the beer into your mouth.
you’re instinct is to swallow, before you step back, wiping your lips. “ew, rafe.”
“do you find everything disgusting or just when it involves me?” rafe asks taking a sip of his own from the beer bottle.
you meet his gaze staying silent, as he frowns.
“i’m not some troll.” he scoffs.
“could’ve fooled m—“
but rafe cuts in. “don’t finish that.”
you press your lips together, almost smiling, despite yourself.
“don’t smile either.” this time rafe looks disgusted. “you look demented…” he then pauses. “…or pretty, hard to say.”
you scoff “great save.”
“i try.” his lips quirk up again. he looks around a moment before his smile fades, finding a certain spot behind you.
you look behind you also seeing a girl who’s gaze is hardened on you both. you shift your gaze back to rafe but he’s far closer then before. you instinctively lean back.
“don’t be annoying now.” rafe says.
“i’m just moving back.” you reply, not seeing the problem.
“hm.” rafe hums, rolling his eyes. though that action doesn’t seem to be for you, but for the girl staring.
“katie, right?” you say in reference to the girl.
“ew.” rafe replies.
“ew?”
“i thought you were well aquatinted with that word?” he steps closer to you, glaring at the girl. “what a pest.” he mutters.
you look back to katie, who’s gaze hasn’t shaken. “you with her or something?”
“don’t ever say that again.” rafe says harshly. “little bitch doesn’t know when to quit.”
“it must be that ‘wonder’ you possess.” you say shrugging.
rafe looks to you, deadpanned. “funny.”
“i’m just saying. which is why i’m confused that you’re bothered.”
“when I kiss someone, i want to like it.” rafe states blandly. “i didn’t like it, so that’s why she’s not over here and instead over there.”
you stare at him. “okay. then have you talked with her about that?”
“uh huh.” rafe says. “in one ear and out the other.”
rafe then focuses fully on you, an idea almost displayed in his eyes. you look back at him confused, your eyes darting a little nervously at the intensity of his sudden attention.
“are you a good kisser?”
rafe’s question makes you pause, even more confused, your eyes widening a fraction. “what?”
“c’mere.” he murmurs, his finger curling into one of your jean loops at your hips.
“wow, wow—“ you rush out placing your hands on his chest as he tugs you closer.
“look convincing.” he hums tilting your chin up. his lips reach yours, stepping against you.
your eyes flutter shut at the closeness. his mouth moves against yours, finding your bottom lip as his tongue drags. the suddenness of it all makes your head spin.
rafe begins to smile against your mouth, either at katie’s reaction, or potentially yours. his tongue doesn’t let up as it slides between your lips, reaching your own. his hand grabs your glass placing it aside before he reaches for your hair sliding his fingers between the strands.
your lips feel wet now, swollen, as you clench at his shirt to breath. he lets up leaning back a fraction. you’re blinking, licking your own lips in shock. you knew they were now red.
“what…what was that?” you whisper. you pause then glance back to katie who’s gaze is like thunder but she finally looks away, heading outside to the busy pool. “oh...” you say. “to make her jealous? really?”
“no, to make her leave.” rafe replies, his tone almost distant, as his gaze is stuck on your mouth. he then leans down and kisses you again, stopping your tongue from dragging along your lip repeatedly. he was far too eager this time around.
and this time you step back.
rafe nearly follows your lips.
“rafe…she’s gone, you can stop now.” you mutter fixing your hair.
rafe then murmurs. “didn’t I say if i don’t like it leave?”
“which is rather rude when you’re actually kissing a girl.” you reply, a little flustered, as you reach for the glass.
rafe slides it away. “you kissed back.”
“i was surprised.” you say.
“glad you have that instinct then.” rafe muses. to which you turn away aiming to leave the kitchen.
but rafe steps after you. “what, going back to sophie?”
“scarlet.” you say. “and yes. I’ve left her for too long.”
rafe blocks your exist. “you don’t like me, i get that. but if you want to help your friend, let them talk. and in the mean time, enjoy yourself.”
“so you’re suggesting I go outside then? maybe to the pool.” you say, as he shakes his head.
“no idiot. here. with me.”
“now that’s the kind of name i thought you’d prefer saying.” you reply. “and…no…thank you.” you say trying to move past him.
“you’re a good kisser.”
“how sweet. move please” you say.
“my god, you really hate me, huh?” he chuckles
“i dont know you enough enough to hate you.” you say “but i do dislike you…so….close.”
“at least I’m not at the far end of the spectrum.” rafe hums, getting closer and fiddling with the end of your shirt.
“you’re close.” you say trying to move his hand away.
“but not there.”
“rafe, what do you want?” you sigh, looking up at him.
“i wanna see if you look more like a ‘deer’ when my hand is actually doing something.” he murmurs for your ears only.
“I’m sorry?” i stare at him, surprised as if he hadn’t just randomly kissed you before.
“relax.” rafe murmurs, pressing against you. “ease up, baby.”
all you manage to do is stare as your body registers the feel of his.
“yeah…” he hums, tugging at your hair slightly. “like that.”
“rafe…” you say, still confused by his actions.
“come on,” he chuckles lowly. “it’s a party. don’t tell me you don’t enjoy it?”
“i do, it’s just—“
but he cuts you off, his breath hitting your cheek. “then left your shirt up, lemme see…”
your stomach fills with butterflies, your eyes darting over his face.
“listen, I’m bored.” rafe says his lips now pressed to your ear, his hand squeezing your waist. “and…i liked the kiss. so I’m thinking I’ll like the rest of you.”
“you’re—you’re just overly horny.” you say.
“and who’s fault is that?”
“hey, you were the one who kissed me.” you say.
he smiled as his hand sunk under your shirt to your stomach.
“rafe—“
“shh.” he hushed, looking down at your shirt and his hand underneath. he lifted the material. you move to grab the shirt, embarrassed at the exposure.
“please, doll, just a quick look.” he says. “none of this has to mean a thing, i promise.” his hand grips your shirt.
and strangely, as he tugs you to a darker corner of the kitchen, his hands lifting your shirt to reveal your bra, and the hum that follows, makes you wonder if he really means that promise.
because as soon as his finger traces the cup before slipping inside, and brushing right over your nipple, the look in his eyes changes.
you can’t pinpoint what it changes to, but his following action, with the grip in your hair is clearly a new promise.
if he doesn’t like it he leaves.
but what happens when he does like it?
he grins nearly cooing at your concentrated face. “don’t think too hard.” he hums as he rubs your nipple and breast making your breathing hitch. “keep that head small for me, doll. you’re a very pretty deer when caught in headlights.”
“you just like me dumb.” you say, understanding his words.
his grin merely grows, as he pushes your bra cup aside completely holding and grabbing your breast. “well, when you’re smart you’d push me away.”
you nod, as he nods too, chuckling. he then forces you to arch against him, as he leans down, keeping eye contact.
he swirls his finger around your nipple. “should I turn this red too?”
the moment his tongue reaches your nipple, tingles run up your spine. and as he begins to suck, the tease in his voice leaves him as he murmurs a simple “fuck.”
your stomach churns, as he nods, almost answering himself with a name he claims to dislike. “yeah…baby, don’t move”
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insanechayne · 7 days
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#I hate who I am when I start missing human contact and feeling lonely#I start missing someone who was awful to me simply because they were reliable in talking to me every day and at least sort of my friend#I start craving the connections that you see in media even though I know those types aren’t real#it seems like everyone else has more people and better people and closer people in their lives than me#it seems like everyone has best friends and partners that are closer to them and better for them#and idk it just feels like things are missing from my life#I have a partner but I can’t always talk to them when I need to because they can’t always handle a conversation#I have a best friend but he barely ever answers my calls and things feel distant between us lately#I have other friends but they’re not the kinds that I feel I could turn to for help when I’m lonely like this#I have my parents but neither of them are very good at comfort in these situations#and I just want to cry because I feel so completely by myself and I don’t know what to do anymore#I just want someone to talk to and who will listen to me when I need help and advice and be there for me#I’m starting to really miss the wrong people again even though I know I’m better without them in my life#but at least I could send them anything and get a response fairly soon when I needed to#at least for a while they were very close to me and i think that’s what I really miss most of all#just the closeness of another person since I don’t always feel that with other relationships these days#it’s times like these I wish I’d just killed myself at 16 so I wouldn’t have to keep dealing with this over and over forever#it’s times like these I wanna fade away#if I’m going to be alone anyway then why bother keeping others around at all? why not just break off and go be a hermit somewhere else?#but I can’t do that because I have too many responsibilities that I need to take care of#idk maybe I should just kill myself and get it over with#pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to make it this long in the first place#I mean I’m being facetious cause I’m not overly suicidal and I’m not actually going to do anything#just kinda wish I could in a weird sort of way#like missing the feeling of a blade slicing my skin since I stopped cutting a long time ago#just want more out of my relationships and from myself and from my life and idk how to get any of that#personal
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chuluoyi · 9 months
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the secret wife
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- nanami kento x reader
follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!
genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is
note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')
general masterlist
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On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...
“Hello? Yuji—”
Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.
“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”
Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.
“Oh? What's—”
“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”
And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—
—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.
“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.
Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...
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Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.
And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.
“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.
One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.
“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”
And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.
But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.
And did he feel so miserable afterwards.
. . .
“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”
Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.
"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."
"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"
"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."
And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”
"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"
"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"
Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—
"I'm going after them!"
"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"
Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.
Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.
Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.
The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.
"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"
Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.
"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"
"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"
Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"
With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?
Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"
And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."
"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.
"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"
After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.
"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"
"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"
"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.
"Eh? Huh!?"
Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—
Crash!
"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.
"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"
"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"
"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.
Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."
"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.
Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"
For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.
It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.
Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"
Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.
“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”
“S-so you are married!”
“Yes, that was what I—”
“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”
Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.
Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”
“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”
“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.
"Aren't we friends?! How—!"
"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.
Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.
Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.
"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"
"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.
Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.
There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.
"Gojo," Megumi blurted.
"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.
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Epilogue
"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"
That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.
"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"
You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."
Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."
"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."
"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.
"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”
Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.
"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"
"People like Gojo are confused—"
Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."
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reidmania · 2 months
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KILL FOR YOU | spencer reid
summary ; one time Spencer wanted to propose and the one time he did.
warnings; fem reader, mentions of injuries, protective Spencer, reader gets hurt by an unsub, spencer beats said unsub, normal criminal minds stuff, angst if you drink vodka, hit ur head then squint a little. they are so in love
an; this was gonna be 2 times spencer wanted to propose and the one time he did but i couldnt be fucked writing it. NOT PROOF READ.
this gif is my fav ever bc he is so bloody cute oh my gosh
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!
“Hey spence.”
It rolled off your tongue simply, easily like nothing. Like it was made to leave your lips. The little nickname, the sweet tone so gentle without intention. Spencer had grown to love it more and more everyday.
Your hand fell gently on the top of his shoulders, Spencer could feel the indent of your rings over his sweater — the one he wore often after you mentioned it was one of your favourites on him.
“Hi honey” He turned in his chair to face you. You had been busy doing case work all day with Emily and unfortunately she deemed Spencer too much of a distraction to be around, so he was sent away sulking for the last three and a half hours.
His eyes met your face and his lips tugged up into a smile. How could he help it when you looked so beautiful. Your hair tied back into a ponytail, a simple fleece sweater of his folded upwards enough to look like it didn’t completely bag on you, over a simple black skirt. It stunned him how you made his home clothes look so professional and good. 
“I missed you” He said, taking ahold of your hand in his. Letting the warmth of your skin raise the heat in his own — although skin to skin contact from wasn’t necessary to raise his body temperature. Just you being around was enough. He would see you from across the room, laughing or smiling and his stomach would flush with warmth. It was inevitable.
You giggled — god he loved the sound. “Your hands are freezing.” You muttered as you interlaced your fingers from his, despite the comment you relished in the small contact you two shared. You tried to keep it professional at work as much as possible.
“Warm them up?” He suggested innocently tilting his head to the side as his gazed remained fixated on your face. He couldn’t pull his eyes away even if he wanted to — which he didn’t.
You smiled and squeeze your fingers around his hand. “I missed you too.” You said back — replying to his earlier comment. He adored that, how to often got sidetracked, over excited and distracted jumping from topic to topic without even realising you were doing it before finishing your sentence. He loved that about you, he watched and adored you every time, no matter what you were saying, or how much he sat there and listened to every word.
“How did you go?” He asked, he subconsciously swung your arms softly as he spoke, eyes locked onto yours. He didn’t needed to explain what he meant — he was talking about how you went getting on with the work. He knew you understood that.
You hummed, other hand straying to fidget and pick up things at his desk. Normally people touching his stuff and messing it about would annoy him — but it didn’t bother him the slightest when it came to you.
“It went good — once we were distraction free” You muttered before turning your head back to face him, he noticed the teasing smile on your face instantly.
He snorted, “Once you were distraction free. Emily was fine” He said.
You shook your head, “She was distracted by my distraction. You are very distracting Spencer Reid” You pointed out, hand leaving his desk to poke the top of his nose gently. Spencer scrunched up his face at the touch but the smile remained on his lips.
“Oh! I was thinking about dinner, maybe we could get take out tonight? I saw a new Chinese takeout spot on the way to work tod- I also saw the cutest puppy earlier, we should get a puppy spence, just a little one” You cut yourself off in the way he already expected you to.
“We can try it tonight” He said fondly, “And we can speak more about the dog thing later” He said. He loved animals but he didn’t know how he felt about having a dog in his house, the amount of germs they would track inside the house set an unsettling bundle of nerves in his stomach, but he knew if you wanted it there was nothing more he would do then get you it.
Your face lit up, he felt his chest swarm.
Yeah definitely worth the germs.
You audibly yay’d. Spencer felt his chest rise and fall as the all familiar thought ran through his head. His hand reached into his pocket to fiddle with the small box in his pocket. He knew deep down it was stupid to carry it around all the time but he couldn’t help it.
He didn’t want to plan the perfect moment — he wanted it to be the perfect moment. He wanted it to feel perfect when he proposed, not be made to feel perfect. Grand gestures weren’t him, and it wasn’t you. But he wanted it to feel right.
Right now, the look on your face, the feeling in his chest was one of those moments where he couldn’t get the idea out of his head, he couldn’t stop himself for thinking about how gorgeous you would look walking down the aisle towards him. He couldn’t stop picturing spending the rest of his life with you.
He said your name, causing you to look back at him from where your gazed was fixated on your intertwined hands. His tone was hesitant and nervous but you made every nerve worth it.
His fingertips wrapped the velvet box, “I-“ His hand paused when your head swung around at the sound of your name. Seeing Emily calling you.
“Emily!!” You said excitedly, “Me and Spence are getting a dog!” You cheered as you looked over at her, your smile bright and wide as you once again got distracted subconsciously.
The slight disappointment slipped away in moments as Spencer watched you smile excitedly. He knew you were probably playing the idea out in your head.
“Maybe.” He reminded — but he knew he would give in.
You rolled your eyes playfully as you looked back on him. “—Probably?” you negotiated, raising your eyebrow hopefully. He chuckled shaking his head before sighing. “Probably.” He agreed.
“I love you” You leant down to place a quick, simple and sweet kiss on his lips before you bounced away to continue your conversation with Emily as she reminded you that there was still more work to do.
Spencer tapped his fingers against the velvet material in his pocket, licking his lips chastely as he tried to push the thought from his mind. Turning back to face his computer screen he let out a soft sigh.
It would be perfect.
“Where is she?” Spencer pushed through a group of people, eyes wide and mind a completely and utter mess. The only thing he could focus on was you. He had zero regard for the people he shoved out of the way trying to get to Hotch.
His looked around — trying to find any glimpse of you possible as he stood in front of Hotch. He was scared — he was absolutely terrified and he couldn’t see you anywhere. “Where is she?” He repeated
He felt Hotch’s hand on his shoulder which normally he would find comforting but he flinched away from it. “Reid.” Hotch said, his tone gently but still holding the stern component that never seemed to leave.
He was trying to be respectful he really was but his mind was apanic. “Hotch, Where the fuck is she?” He hardly swore but it slipped out as he avoided holding eye contact with the older man, scared maybe he might burst into tears as his chest felt unbearably tight.
“Shes with the paramedics, she’s in a lot of pain— Reid.” Spencer didn’t stay to listen to the rest of what his boss had to say, instead walking off towards the ambulance through the crowd of people.
He was panicked beyond belief. His hands hadn’t stopped shaking his he heard that you were down. He was pissed that Emily and you decided to split up while searching around the house, only ending with you being grabbed from behind, pushing you so hard against the wall that when you hit it — you were knocked out.
The minute Emily found you around the other side she was telling everyone over her speaker, Spencer was rushing outside of the house he had been checking with Derek and his feet were moving faster than his brain could compute. His hands were shaking when he came in contact with the unsub, who immediately went for him.
Spencer was unable to help himself, his hands didn’t reach for his gun instead he pushed the man up against the wall, like the unsub previously had done to you — only his fist found their way to the unsubs face, over, and over, and over again until it was nothing more than a bloody mess.
He had little injury from the unsub, he endured a few hits to the face which did nothing more than leave his nose and lip bloody but he couldn’t of cared less about that when all his mind could think about was you.
He was pushed away by Derek, and the unsub taken into custody by Rossi and Emily after Emily had called the paramedics for you. He fought Derek briefly trying to get his hands back on the unsub.
“You could have had a murder charge” derek had said, finally somewhat calming Reid down once the Unsub was taken away. Spencer remembers thinking nothing more than how much he wanted that man dead — he had never really wished that on anyone.
“He should be dead.” Was all Spencer had replied before walking off.
His eyes landed on you, sitting with a blanket over your shoulders in the back of an ambulance, leaning on the side of it with your knees pulled up to your chest, hand held to the back of your head holding what he could only assume was an ice pack.
He called your name as his feet rushed towards you before they stopped right in front of you. You met his eyes and he could’ve swore his heart had shattered into a million different pieces at the sight of tears in your eyes.
“Oh baby” He cooed as his hands hovered slightly over your side. He was scared to touch you, scared to hurt you more than you had already been hurt. His chest was tightening more and more and he found it hard to breathe.
“Im okay” You pushed out, but your voice was contradicting your words as it cracked slightly. You almost lunged towards him letting your head bury itself in his chest, arms wrapping themselves around his waist. He took it as an okay to touch you, his arms immediately wrapping around you as he stood in-between your legs.
“Im sorry” He whispered, hand running up to your hair to smooth it out gently, hands careful over the bloody spot in your hair. You shook your head but stopped as it only sent a throbbing sensation throughout it. You pulled your head away and Spencer moved to sit beside you.
“You don’t have to apologise” You said softly, hand coming up to wipe a tear from your cheek. Spencer’s hand stayed on your back. “Im okay. Really.” You reassured.
“I should’ve been there, someone should’ve been there.” He said, shaking his head. He was holding back the urge to scold the stupidity it took to separate yourself and Emily in a situation but he knew deep down you were just doing what he thought was right — and he could hardly think about that when you were sitting here with that look in your eye.
“Wh- What the hell” you muttered as you looked over his face. For some reason the state of him didn’t register when you first saw him, maybe it was because of the tears blurring your vision or maybe the fact you were just in relief that he was there, but now you did as your entire chest fell.
“Im sorry” He apologised again. “I was so— I was so angry, I was scared” He said, He watches the way your face falls into something he can only explain as panic and guilt. He hated the way you looked guilty.
“Spence..” You sighed, grabbing ahold of his hand gently, thumb rubbing back and forth of his soft skin. He relished in your touch. His eyes closed as he tried to neglect the burning sensation in the back of his throat and bridge of his nose that came as a warning sign for the tears brewing in the back of his eyes.
“I wanted to kill him” Spencer said, his voice cracking as the lump grew in his throat. He despised the way it gave him away. He didn’t want to be in this position — he was supposed to be the one comforting you, not the other way around.
“That would only get you in trouble baby” You said gently. The headache subsided slightly as your head filled with nothing more than Spencer. An unfamiliar feeling filled your stomach as it dawned on you that Spencer would quite literally kill for you.
“He hurt you” Was the best Spencer could muster up. And to him it was enough of a reason.
An unfamiliar feeling filled your stomach as it dawned on you that Spencer would quite literally kill for you. Your hand tightened around his as you turned your body to face him more. Your hand leaving his to cup his face in your hands.
A frown tugged on your lips and Spencer groaned at the way tears ran down his cheeks. He tried to pull his face away from your hands in-order to hide it in his own, but yours stayed around his face.
“Oh baby.” Spencer’s chest tightened as your thumb dragged the softest against his cheeks wiping away stray tears. “It’s apart of the job baby. We both know that, theres always a risk of us getting hurt. But I’m right here yeah? Im okay.” You cooed gently.
It dawned on him in that moment at your words. Of course before he knew there was a risk — he was well aware of that but now he completely understood it. He understood how much he needed you, how much he would do for you.
He realised there was no life for him without you in it.
He said your name, his tone clear, you raised your eyebrow with a quick nod. You repeated his name but his mind was elsewhere unable to process it as he stared at your face.
Perfect or not. There wasn’t ever gonna be a moment where he felt like he needed to do this more. He needed to be your husband. He needed the future with you. He needed this and he needed this now.
“Marry me.” He said, it wasn’t how he wanted it to come out but his lips worked faster than his mind. He watched your eyes widen, your brows furrow in confusion as your lips parted before shutting again.
“W-What?” You muttered.
“Marry me.” He repeated, “Please. I don’t want to spend another day wondering if we will get a future together. I don’t ever want to endure this again without you being my wife. I want everyday with you, I want the arguments and the bad days, I want the long nights and the kids. I want you, today, tomorrow and every day after that. I want to marry you, I want to be your husband” He ranted.
Your eyes widened as he rambled on as tears rushed all the way back in your eyes from where they had subsided.
“I can’t lose you. I am so in love with you, it hurts. It hurts so please—“ He sighed, “Marry me.”
You were at a loss for words and Spencer almost expected that. This wasn’t how he wanted to do it, but he didn’t think he could go another day without asking you.
“Im sorry, I know this is probably the worse time possible” His fingers tugged at the box in his pocket, pulling it out. He used his other hand to open it. Your eyes fell from his onto the ring sitting inside the black velvet box. It was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning and so you.
“I wanted it to be perfect, I have been waiting but I cant w-”
“Yes.” You said, cutting him off as you pulled your eyes away from the ring back to his face. “God- Yes- Spencer” Your voice was quiet and breathy.
His eyes widened. “Wh- really?” He almost expected you to shut him down.
“Are you stupid?” He knew it wasn’t serious because everyone knew Spencer Reid was a lot of things — but he was not stupid.
“Of course I will marry you!” You lunged towards him, pressing your lips against his. Unable to even care about the headache beating against the back of your skull as all you could feel was him.
He smiled into the kiss, deepening it as his hands tugged against your waist, pulling you in closer to him. He pulled away for a moment to take the ring out of the box, grabbing ahold of your hand he slid the ring on — it fit perfectly.
“Are you okay?” He asked, gaze returning to your face as he remembered you were infact still injured.
You beamed at him, “Im happy. Spence Im really happy” You said, unable to focus on anything else.
Spencer smiled back. “I love you”
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anxiousnerdwritings · 9 months
Note
Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨
TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming
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(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)
Entrapment
A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?
~~~~
You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.
He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.
You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.
Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.
The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.
~~~~
The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.
Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.
Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.
Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?
It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.
It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.
“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.
“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?
No.
He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.
He just wouldn’t.
“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”
~~~~
Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?
Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.
It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.
In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.
But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.
Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.
~~~~
Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.
Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.
No more calculating.
No more cunning.
No more being methodic.
No more.
Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.
At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.
One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.
After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.
He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.
Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.
You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.
“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”
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princealberich · 2 months
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HOW DO I COMPLAIN TO HOYOVERSE?
It's easy, and there are MULTIPLE things you can do! I recommend doing each item on this list.
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1. SIGN & SHARE THE PETITION
The petition will be delivered to the appropriate cultural reps, in order to complain to the CCP about the negative impression this is leaving on Chinese companies. Genshin Impact is highly favoured by the government for the positive press it gives the country, and putting pressure on the 'big daddy' is FAR more likely to make Hoyoverse buckle.
As of right now, the petition has nearly 38k signatures.
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2. EMAIL HOYOVERSE
Email them directly at [email protected] to state how this has affected your desire to continue playing their games.
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3. USE THE IN-GAME SURVEY OR FEEDBACK
Genshin Impact has frequent update surveys, and there is a permanent option to give feedback at any time. You can find it in the Paimon Menu.
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4. REVIEW BOMB
Rate Hoyoverse's games, particularly Genshin, with one star on the app store. This has already proven in the past to have an effect, when this caused the team to review the anniversary rewards.
Here is a guide on how to do this!
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5. POST IN OFFICIAL HOYOVERSE ACCOUNTS' COMMENTS
Do not be silent! Speak up about your displeasure. It's important that these comments outweigh the rest! Show that we are the MAJORITY.
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6. SPEAK UP
Use the tags!
#BoycottHYV #WhyAreTheyWhiteHoyo #GenshinImpact #FixNatlan
Be relentless.
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FURTHER DETAILS UNDER THE CUT!
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WHAT SHOULD I NOT DO?
The following actions should NOT be taken:
DO NOT spend money on Hoyoverse games.
DO NOT sent threats, to voice actors OR customer service staff.
DO NOT engage with trolls or racists. Block and report.
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WHY IS THIS IMPORTANT?
It's easy to dismiss this in the face of 'more important' issues in the world at the moment, but Genshin Impact (And by extension, Hoyoverse) is a very influential game and company. It is extremely popular, and directly influences MANY other games and players through this popularity.
This isn't an issue of 'just stop playing'- This is not anger for a game's decisions, it's anger for a precedent. It's a demand that not only should Hoyoverse care about representation, but other, smaller, companies too. If Hoyoverse can get away with it, so can others- But if Hoyoverse is held accountable for their exploitation of culture, then it sets the precedent that other companies have no chance of doing the same.
Like it or not, Hoyoverse has a lot of influence, and the CCP itself values the company for giving China a positive image in other countries. This is bigger than just being mad at character design.
EDIT: It was also pointed out to me that if POC were to simply stop engaging with hostile content, they would have nothing left. 'Just stop playing' isn't fair, plain and simple. POC deserve to play the things that they enjoy WITHOUT being ostracized.
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DOES HOYOVERSE LISTEN?
They listen if there's no money lining their pockets, they listen if their reputation is damaged, and they listen if the CCP gets involved. We have direct evidence of this.
Review bombing alone caused Hoyoverse to reconsider the first anniversary rewards.
The CCP forced Hoyoverse to reskin various characters to comply with their laws, which HYV did. (This isn't necessarily a good thing, however, it is still evidence that CCP has influence over them.)
This is by far the largest outcry the company has seen so far, and MANY of HYV's voice actors have spoken out in support for the movement as well. This is not just playerbase complaints, but staff, too.
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I recommend following AvenOfStrats on X/Twitter for further updates on the petition's progress, and on other ways to contribute. They also share plenty of resources on why this is important, and guides on how to complain.
2K notes · View notes
sukirichi · 3 months
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WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU x READER
You’ve been pretending not to see ghosts your whole life in order to blend in perfectly, but you can’t ignore the cute ghost with a bright smile standing in front of your door.
cw. ghost! gojo. fem! reader. minimal fluff. graphic depictions of murder. angst. hurt no comfort. mentions of grief. mentions of being under the influence (alcohol and drugs.) characters with depression. unedited.
notes. wrote a lil something for gojo since it’s been a while since i wrote any jjk fics and i missed it :( also should i open requests again? i miss writing one shots lol
wc. 7k
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You met him on the first night of winter.
Eager to get home after a long and tiring day at work, you blow hot air on your freezing palms to keep them warm before stuffing it deep in your coat pockets. The walk home was less than fifteen minutes, and you’ve always refused to buy a car because you enjoyed the journey and wanted to familiarize yourself more with the city. You previously lived in the outskirts, but after a phone call from the main department telling you you were promoted and had to transfer in the city, you found yourself packing up on the weekend and renting a cheap apartment.
Located in the middle of everything – convenience stores, medical facilities, popular bars, and a quaint looking flower shop with a cute florist – you thought your apartment was perfect. It was a little shabby, you had to admit. The plumbing didn’t work well and electricity got cut off at random times in the night that resulted in a headache because you couldn’t send that damn email, but the landlord offered an extremely cheap rent that you couldn’t refuse. Plus, it was only a few minutes walk from your office and your neighbors were peaceful.
Well, most of them anyway.
Your neighbors consisted of mostly old couples who were so silent and desolate that you often forgot they existed, your eyes widening whenever you saw an unfamiliar old lady walking and asking you how your day was before realizing, Oh, she’s Mrs. Oliver, I completely forgot. Save for the married couple who were always throwing pots and pans at each other because darn Ronald couldn’t put the toilet seat back down, your place was placid. The landlord was ecstatic when you saw her poster and inquired for a unit, muttering something about not getting enough tenants to keep the place going because of ‘a traumatic issue.’
You’d really rather not ask what it was.
Besides, you’ve never been curious enough of what the world has to offer, simply because you see things – or rather fragments of people – that you’d rather not see. Ever since you started seeing ghosts at a young age of four, people avoided you like the plague, calling you a ‘freak’ and whatnot. Your family soon moved away to a much smaller place in the city because they couldn’t handle seeing their child who often talked to ghosts and sat in corners alone while laughing by herself be criticized by others. They didn’t believe you, of course, often calling it a ‘lonely child’s imagination.’ They sent you to multiple therapists who always assured you that they would listen to whatever problems you were having to cause you to be this way.
Unfortunately for them, there wasn’t anything wrong with you. You weren’t lonely at all. You saw a dozen ghosts every day who were always ecstatic at finding out you could see them, and they were more than willing to interact. As a child, you always thought ghosts were more interesting than actual people because they had an unlimited amount of time to converse with you, and they have had so many experiences to share with you. 
When you grew older, however, you started to see yourself in other’s eyes, realization dawning on you that on social norms, you are, indeed, a freak.
Determined to fit in more and also sick of being faced with countless counselors who strongly believed you had a traumatic experience when your whole life has been nothing but bland and plain, you started ignoring them. It wasn’t easy at first, though. These ghosts have always kept you company while everyone gave you the side eye without knowing who you really were, and you admit you felt lonely in the beginning and a little guilty when they were convinced you couldn’t see them anymore.
You participated more in school activities and even joined a photography club in high school (you had to quit a month later because ghosts kept appearing on your photos, and you had to burn them in order not to freak anyone out) and with each baby step you took, you started to fit in more. The proud look your parents had on their faces when you had finally become ‘normal’ and even got an award for being an exemplary student was enough to keep you going on this journey, and you ignored the lonely spirits so hard that you eventually started seeing less and less of them.
Until now.
Standing in front of your door was a young man, his back awkwardly bent and long, beautiful fingers fiddling awkwardly with one another. He stood barefoot yet wore a comfy looking blue university hoodie and grey sweatpants, and his silver hair seemed shiny and healthy enough to  not consider him a homeless man who was lost and simply wandering. Tipping your head to the side, you rack your brain to remember if you had any neighbours like him. 
His head snaps in your direction. 
He is definitely not your neighbour. You would have remembered such a cute looking guy.
He had unnaturally ethereal futures, prominent cheekbones becoming more pronounced when you meet his eyes, and you blink to gain control over your body when you realize you’ve been staring too long than what would be considered acceptable. You don’t even deny you’ve been checking him out, although you do ignore the almost puppy-like way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, causing your heart to jump a little. Just a little. You also liked how his hair complimented perfectly with his pale skin – he seemed like an exact embodiment of winter. 
You walk forward, spinning your keys at the end of your pointer finger. Smiling at him politely, you paused in your tracks. He’d been blocking your door. “Hello, is there something I can help you with?”
No matter how cute he was, you wouldn’t hesitate to break his nose if he was a criminal.
His pretty hands come up to his face to cover his mouth falling open, and you take a step back when he does a little jump and starts laughing. “You can see me?”
“Uhm, yes,” you answer. “You’re blocking my door, so yeah, I can very much see you.”
As if realizing just now he stood in the way of you and your comfortable bed, who was calling out to you by now, he mutters a quick apology under his breath before stepping aside, a goofy grin remaining on his face and his childish behavior makes you scoff in amusement. He was still watching you even after you’ve unlocked your door, and you sigh at him. “Is there any reason you’re still standing outside my apartment, or should I call the police?”
Instead of looking worried like you expected him to, his smile only gets bigger. “Actually, I live here, well… I used to.”
You stare at him blankly with a slack expression on your face, watching as his features turn sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Looking down on his bare feet, you mumble a curse under your breath when you realize he’s hovering. 
“Not again,” you say to yourself before placing a palm against your forehead. It’s been years since you last saw a ghost, why did you have to see them now out of all times? A new branch is opening up and your superiors have given you the project of making sure the launch goes well, and you didn’t really want a ghost bothering you with your biggest task of all time. You worked hard for this promotion, you didn’t want to take one step forward and two steps back. Glaring at the undeniably attractive ghost who still hovered in your doorway, you decided he wasn’t your problem. 
“Well, goodnight.”
You slam the door on him and trudge towards your bedroom, ignoring his “Wait!” as you unwrap the red scarf around your neck and plop on your bed almost lazily, moaning when your stiff muscles finally relax. The bed was so soft and warm because you’d left the heater on accidentally, and you’re about to be sent to dreamland when a voice beside you speaks up.
“You should take off your makeup before going to bed.”
Opening your eyes and coming face-to-face with the ghost who was resting his chin in both of his hands and laying on your bed, you grab a pillow and throw it at him, and he grins when the object goes past him completely. “Get out of my house, stop bothering me!”
“Technically, darling, this is still my house,” he tells you and starts sitting up before crossing his legs. “The unit was still named after me before you came.”
“Then why wasn’t I informed about that?”
“I was murdered here four years ago,” he deadpans, soft voice flitting into a murmur as he plays with his fingers again, refusing to look at you. “That’s why I never left. Judging from what you said earlier, you can see ghosts, and you know exactly why we’re still here.”
Swallowing a lump in your throat, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know and–”
“It’s quite alright,” he shrugs. 
Silence soon joins the two of you; the ghost playing with the ends of your blanket with a far-off look in his face while you study his features, and something tugs at your heart. The reason why ghosts remain here instead of passing on like they were supposed to was because it meant someone was still holding on to them and absolutely refused to let go, or if they had unfinished business that needed to be resolved before they could go in peace. You’ve met ghosts like him who were murdered, and all of them remained with a seething rage and insatiable need for revenge, unable to accept that there wasn’t much they could do in their state. 
As for the one sitting in your ghost, a small smile tugs at the end of his pink lips as he takes in your bedroom, amusement dancing in his eyes at the amount of stuffed animals you had and some framed photos of you as a child. 
“You decorate much better than me, and you’re a lot more organized, too. This place was such a mess back when I was still alive.”
There was an unmissable hint of sadness behind his voice, and you can’t help but ask his name. “I’m Satoru,” he grins, “and for the record, I’ve always been here, just floating through time and space, but not the afterworld yet. For some reason, ever since you arrived, I just appeared back where I left off.”
You nod and take in his words, noticing how he clears his throat and sends a sheepish look your way. “If it’s not too much of a bother, can I ask for your help?”
“What is it?”
He stands up and heads toward your desk, although you supposed it was his since the furniture had already been here before you came. You didn’t think too much about it back then and only felt grateful that you had one less piece of furniture to buy, especially since it was empty. Apparently not, because Satoru keeps digging around through your files with his tongue peeking out his lips, and you vaguely recall that ghosts are able to touch things after feeding off of energy from living beings.
Letting out an ‘aha!’ when his hand finally lands on what he’s looking for, he tenderly places a photo on your outstretched palm with a shy smile. Inside the photo was a beautiful man, probably in his mid twenties, his hair up in a messy bun as he grinned at the camera. Beside him, Satoru’s eyes are closed with his head thrown back in laughter, relishing the feeling of that warm sunny day, and you unconsciously frown at it.
“His name’s Suguru,” he began, his eyes turning glossy at the sight of the polaroid. “He was my best friend before I died.”
Pursing your lips and feeling the tension thicken the room, you ask him, “Why are you telling me this?”
“He’s the reason why I can’t go,” he admits, shoulders dropping while his eyes remain trained on her. “He blames himself for everything and refuses to accept that I’m gone, that’s why I’m still here.”
You remain silent and take a deep breath, your head pounding at the situation. It was a beautiful first night of winter, the perfect weather for you to do your work from home while nestling a cup of hot cocoa in your hands, yet it seems your plans changed and you have to help this ghost out. A part of you wants to reach out and embrace him in a hug, but you know you’ll only end up stumbling on your own feet and clearly, Satoru wants to move on to the next chapter of his journey.
“Can you please tell him I’m okay now?”
When he looks at you like that, shoulders hanging low and an almost shy smile decorating his innocent features, it’s hard to say no.
“I will.”
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Through the past few weeks since you’ve met Satoru, your life seemed to light up like a Christmas tree without you noticing. He was a funny guy and often pulled pranks on you, like slamming the cabinets open and closed or leaving your window open in the middle of the night, laughing when you shout at him as your teeth chatter and you slam your windows shut. 
“I could have died from the cold, you idiot!”
He keeps laughing as if he didn’t nearly kill you with hypothermia, “Well, if you die, I guess we’ll be together then,” and even has the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows. You scowl at him and pull your jacket closer to your body, asking what he wants from you because he never goes this far to demand for your attention unless he wants something from you.
“What do you want this time?”
“I wanted to finish that series we were watching the other day,” he pouts rather childishly, “You always tell me not to watch it without you.”
On a particular weekend where you felt like your brains were about to explode from exhaustion due to your work piling up, you refused to wake up until noon, and you felt thankful Satoru knew how tired you were and let you have your much needed rest. When you woke up, a bowl of cereal was already waiting for you in your kitchen island, meaning the reason you felt tired even after that long slumber was because he fed off your energy to give you food.
Feeling thankful for the simple, sweet action, you munched on it happily. It wasn’t anything special and the corn flakes had gone too crusty for your liking, but Satoru’s happiness at you appreciating what he prepared was worth it. After breakfast, you dumped the bowl into the sink and planned to wash it later, opting to flick through Netflix for a good show. Satoru had excitedly pointed at one title that he said he’s always wanted to watch, and the two of you became hooked on it soon enough. Lunch and dinner were both forgotten as you two sat beside each other, your leg against his. Although you couldn’t exactly feel him, his presence was warm.
You and Satoru had been so immersed in the show and unexpected turn of events that time flew by and it was already half past three. He was the first to notice and he jumped from his seat, his hands waving worriedly in a comical manner. “I’m so sorry I made you skip your meals! Aren’t you hungry, you should have some pizza delivered or something.”
Glancing at the clock, you hummed when you realized it was indeed late. You weren’t feeling hungry since you were mostly abeyant, and nothing was open to deliver food around this time anyway. “It’s okay,” you shrug, “I’m not really hungry, and that show is addicting. Oh, and don’t watch it without me! I know you always go ahead when I’m not home!”
Satoru huffs and plops down next to you dramatically, rolling his eyes and taunting you. “Then don’t go to work, Little Miss Manager.”
You poke your finger with his forehead but it only passes through and he laughs, “I need money to survive, idiot.”
“Whatever,” he dismisses and points to your bedroom. “You’ve still got to edit your final draft, so you have to wake up early. Go to bed, don’t worry about the dish, I’ll handle it.”
“Liar, you’ll only feed from my energy so you can play video games!”
“Hey, you can’t blame me!” He counters back as he proceeds to your sink and pumps out soap to the sponge, “You were the one who bought me that console!”
“Only because you kept whining to me how much you wanted it,” you retorted before yawning, and his eyes softened at the sight of you. He rarely gets to see you dressed so comfortably in a loose shirt, cardigan and pajama pants since you were such a busy woman whose fashion sense monotonously consisted of pearl white button-up blouses and knee-length pencil skirts. Prudish and preppy, he thought, but it suits you just fine.  
“You should sleep now,” he reminds you with a nod of his head back to your bedroom, and you obey, simply because your eyes were sore and tired from binge watching. You’re in the process of cocooning yourself under the covers when he calls out in a sing-song voice, “Thank you for the console, by the way. I knew you couldn’t resist me.”
“Shut up!” You scream, and his rambunctious laugh was the last thing you heard before your body wholeheartedly welcomed sleep. 
You’ve been thinking about that day ever since, the moment replaying over and over again in your head, successfully distracting you from focusing on your work. Even your co-workers have noticed that you’re lusterlacking lately, but how could you focus on anything else when you had a charming yet lonely ghost who was waiting for you at home?
For days on end, you can only think about the cheerful and carefree sound of his laugh as if he had so much happiness in his lithe body that he couldn’t contain. Your heart always got tugged in its heartstrings whenever you had trouble falling asleep and he sat beside you in your bed, singing you lullabies and caressing your cheek. You started to feel him now – the gush of air in your skin meant he was pressing onto you, and the more you got attached to him, the more you got confused with your feelings.
He never told you how he was murdered and you never asked, figuring it would be too sensitive for him, and your hands balled into fists each time you remembered he was dead. Satoru is such a precious person who only has too much love to give, and it was completely unfair and outrageous that his life was taken away from him in a single flash. You’ve done your research at work, and only a few articles came up regarding his death. The case remains a mystery and still unsolved until it was completely closed due to lack of leads or suspects, but the police force highly suspected someone had broken in and committed homicide without theft, since not a single belonging of him got touched. They concluded that the murderer was drunk and lost, because he was a well-loved person in their campus, and they couldn’t find anyone who could possibly harbor abhorrence for the sweet boy.
But most of all, a part of you wants him to stay. He frequently asks you if you’ve talked to Suguru, and you always denied it, making up an excuse about how he was hard to find because he graduated years ago. ‘He’s hard to find,’ you would tell him one day, and ‘He doesn’t have social media,’ the next. Even though he told you he majored in Forensics, you couldn’t find anyone in the city. 
It’s a half lie. You never found Suguru, because you never looked for him in the first place.
You know it’s selfish of you to be this way, because you know Satoru wants to move on. He doesn’t say anything about it and keeps laughing instead, but sometimes when he thinks you’re too immersed in your work to notice him, you look at him. Being around you only reminds him of what he no longer has, and one look at him has you knowing he was someone who loved life. Satoru loved to travel with his friends, and he still had so many dreams left unfulfilled that made him feel empty yet desperate to be in the afterworld.
However, it is hard for you to let him go. 
No matter how much you try to fit in, deep inside, you know you will always be too different from the rest. You still struggled with socializing and didn’t have a single friend yet a hundred acquaintances, and you never realized how lonely you were until he came. His smile lit up the whole room and his laugh was melodious, and you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who cared so much for you. He liked to play games and pull pranks on you quite often, but underneath all that lies a kind heart.
Satoru knows exactly when his jokes go too far and apologizes right away, promising not to do something to upset you again and always doing something entirely new to cheer you up. On nights where you’re feeling absolutely drained or you carried home your anger at your co-workers, you go to sleep without taking off your makeup. When you wake, there’s used wipes in the bin, the hovering boy in your apartment proud of his work. Sometimes you forget to cover yourself in blankets too, plopping on top of the sheets almost lifelessly. It’s in those times that he shows how much he cares for you, and you soon wake up feeling warm surrounded by heavy blankets and freshly cooked breakfast.
As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were falling for him. It made interacting with him difficult, because you knew you had to let him go, yet you couldn’t.
He watches you carefully and gauges your reaction, waiting to see if you’ll finish the series with him or not. It’s a Wednesday night, or more accurately an early morning on Thursday and the launch happens in less than a week. Logically, it is much better to go back to sleep and refuse, but he is rocking his weight on his heels back and forth, and you realize perhaps he has been lonely since his death too.
“Fine,” you agree, and now he’s bouncing excitedly next to you on your couch as he keeps pressing buttons in your remote.
“You’re the best, you know that?” 
You only hum in response, and Satoru soon becomes lost in the show. Your eyes aren’t focused on the screen – on him rather. Placed on top of your fist lies your cheek as you study his side profile, trying to memorize the slope of his nose and the snow-white hair that keeps falling onto his eyes that makes him flip it to the side every now and then to watch the show. His right leg keeps bouncing up and down, a habit he had when he was anxiously anticipating something, and then stopping before his left leg went bouncing instead, meaning he didn’t like the situation.
Tearing your eyes away from him, you smile sadly when you realize his favorite character had been betrayed. “Did you see that? That freaking woman, he only loved her and she snitched him out like that?!”
Shrugging one shoulder and feeling your eyes become droopy, you reply, “Well, he’s a grave robber, Satoru, he was only nice to her because he liked her. She had every right to mislead him.”
“I don’t understand, but okay,” he relents and leans back, eyes closing before he intertwines his hands behind his neck and murmurs, “I hated the ending.”
“Not everyone gets happy endings,” you add grimly, watching the muscles underneath his hoodie flex at your comment. The two of you remain silent for a few minutes, and plucking up the courage, you breathe in sharply before slowly lowering yourself until your head is on his shoulder. 
You keep yourself still in order not to fall, and your eyes remain fixated on his hand, silently yearning to be able to touch him. If he was alive, would his skin be as warm as his presence? His hand flexes and trails from his lap until it’s beside yours, and you hear him swallow audibly before locking your fingers with his.
A tear falls down your face. You could feel him. 
Satoru hums a familiar tune, and you chuckle happily when you recognize it’s the song he always sings to you to make you sleep, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles.
His other hand tilts your chin upwards until you’re looking directly at his eyes. You hold in your breath, his lips only a centimeter away from yours. If you lean forward, you could kiss him… but you don’t. 
“Why are you crying?”
Because I don’t want you to go.
“Nothing,” you lie and offer a forced smile which he notices, but doesn’t comment about it. “I just feel happy.”
He nods slowly before leaning forward, and he gets so close that you can faintly see his freckles that dot across his cheeks lovingly, and your eyes flutter shut when his lips press against yours. Satoru sighs as if he’s been waiting too long to do that, and he is pushing against you so softly, so tenderly, that it almost fits the same atmosphere your heart creates. He is soft in everything he does, from his innocent features and smile that puts the stars to shame, to how he holds you and caresses you. His hand trails from your neck to pull you closer, and you moan when his tongue peeks out and playfully coaxes yours out to play. Tears are streaming down your face when you kiss him back slowly, tongues moving in sync as they danced harmoniously instead of battling each other for dominance. Caressing your face that fits perfectly in his hand, he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumbs. 
A moment passes before you two are breathing heavily with your foreheads pressed against each other, and the silence is broken when he speaks, his voice coming out raspy and out of breath. 
“Suguru… has been struggling long before I died.”
“What?”
“My best friend… he got into a rough patch. Had troubles with his parents, went down the wrong path, and met dangerous people. I’d heard rumors he was going around skipping class and talking to people I’ve never seen before, but I chose to ignore it. Suguru would’ve told me everything once he was ready. And I was stupid, you know? I saw it. I saw how he stopped smiling, how he’d lost weight. How his eyes no longer looked happy,” Satoru’s hands trembled, the blue of his eyes hauntingly dark. “One night, I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. I’ve never heard him that angry, and I got worried. I wanted to stop him from whatever he’ll end up doing so I invited him over but… Next thing I know, he came over here, drunk and high, and stabbed me until I bled to death.”
You gasp and shudder as you imagine the scene, Satoru lying on his bed as he waited anxiously for his friend. You see him smiling at Suguru excitedly because he’d actually come, but fear replaces it when his friend succumbs to the madness. The image of Satoru drowning in his own pool of blood made you clench your jaw.
“There had to be evidence left.”
Satoru smiles sadly as if to tell you it doesn’t bother him anymore, but you can’t shake it off. How can a man be so blinded in his own misery that he could take his own best friend’s life? “He was a forensics major; he knew how to cover up his crime.”
A pregnant pause fills the room as you furrow your brows, the sound of the cold wind tapping against your windows as you rack your head to make a decision. Now that you knew the truth, you had to tell the police about it, but how would they believe you if there was no evidence found? And if the case was cleared, and Suguru had finally moved on, that means...
“You can ask me to stay.”
“What?” You breathe out, looking at his eyes with sadness pooling in them. He’s smiling, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You pull away from him completely until he’s at an arm’s length away. He doesn’t look hurt by your action but he sighs, reaching out for you and pausing with his hand mid-air when you raise a palm to stop him.
He must’ve known you’re in love with him. Just as he also knows that once he leaves, you’ll be hurt, and he doesn’t want you to feel that.
You shake your head and stand up harshly. The tears now uncontrollable as you slam your bedroom door to his face. You’re slightly thankful he doesn’t come after you and leaves you alone instead. You needed time. Time to think, time to put his needs over yours - time to forget him. Rummaging through the documents on your desk, you keep looking for it until the polaroid is clutched between your fingers, and you silently place it in your handbag.
Tomorrow, you would set things straight.
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Suguru Geto was a hard man to find. He’d fled from the spotlight as one of the  best students of his university after Satoru Gojo’s death. The image of his best friend, who was always in high spirits and laughed without a care in the world, covered in his own blood was a sight that scarred him for the rest of her life. 
But there was one more person who hadn’t moved on from that night.
Ieri Shoko, the woman who ran first at the hospital when Satoru’s parents were away for a business trip. She didn’t want to believe it at first. Satoru had always seemed so full of life, so in love with what the world had to offer. He’d been so young – it just couldn’t be. They had to be lying, right?
But when she finally saw her friend’s bloodied corpse on that cold hospital bed, she’d fallen apart.
She went to sleep crying to herself every night, regretting and blaming everything on herself. Her instinct told her it was Suguru who had done this to him. She barged into his dorm room, screaming and flailing, punching the taller man and effectively breaking his nose as she dragged him down by the collar. Suguru was already questioned by the police after Satoru’s murder, but his alibi of being in a bar was factual, and they had proven his innocence after checking surveillance cameras. He was only gone for a few minutes before he appeared on the dance floor all over again, and they believed him when he said he only disappeared to go to the restroom.
Presumably to wash the blood off his hands.
Shoko didn’t believe it. “Tell me you didn’t kill him, tell me!”
Suguru growls, frustrated at her for even accusing him of doing such a horrendous thing, and he feigns his innocence as he pries her hands away from his collar. “I didn’t do it, Ieri, I was at a bar!”
“Bullshit!” She screams, slamming a vase onto the floor and dropping down to the floor as sobs wrecked through her body. “I smelled your perfume the moment I walked in. I know it was you…”
His eyes widened, but he remained silent because she had always been smart and too observant for her own good. He shrugs his collar back into place and goes back to his bedroom, but not before darkly muttering, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t kill him…”
Four years later, and you’re sitting in front of Officer Kento, an intimidating man with empty eyes staring at you hardly, his face devoid of any emotion. He’d been the same officer who worked on Satoru’s case before it was closed. “And why should I believe you? Ghosts don’t exist.”
You snap your head up from your lap to him and scowl, “I just want to help you here, Officer.  You need to re-open this case.”
He abruptly stands up and slams his palm harshly against the desk, his eyes filled with rage as he stares down at you. “You don’t think I haven’t tried before?!”
“Well then, try harder!” You fumed, standing up. “If you don’t resolve this case, he’s going to remain here forever, lost and nowhere to go. Do you really want him to suffer even after his death?”
“How am I supposed to believe everything you say is true?”
Plucking out their polaroid from your bag and shoving it to his chest, you watch as he crumbles piece by piece. He holds the photo tentatively before cradling it to his chest, and what you presumed was a cold-hearted man was actually just a lost person.
“I don’t know why you closed that case, but it isn’t over. He’s still here, and he needs our help.”
You turn away from him to give him peace and wrap your fingers around the doorknob, “Suguru Geto is out there walking freely. You can still make a difference, Sir. It’s not too late.”
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Happiness was a concept you believed to be fleeting.
One moment, you are giggling with the ghosts who tell you funny stories and whisper mischievously in your ear the correct answers in your pre-school days, and the next moment you are pressing a hand against your car windows, watching as the only people you considered friends are witnessing you leave without a goodbye.
That feeling comes back again and again, from little moments such as eating lunch with your high school friends and making empty promises to keep in touch after graduation, giggling when a cute boy comes by and asks for your number. But like any other moment in your life where you feel happy, that feeling dissipates as fast as it came.
The bell attached to the door chimes to signal a customer, and the cute florist you met on the first day you moved to this city, Choso, looks up from the pot he’s currently watering. Bowing politely, he sends a pleased smile upon the sight of you.
You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and return the smile back, his musky perfume blending in well with the sweet aroma of flowers as he stops in front of you. “Hi, I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, “Our latest branch just opened downtown, so I was a bit busy with that.”
“Oh, you work for that bookshop everyone’s been talking about non-stop?” You nod and laugh at his question, proud of yourself that the new opening had been successful. The state campus was only three bus rides away, and with the extensive amount of books your bookstore offered, along with its affordable prices, everyone’s been talking about it. “I’m proud of you, it was a success,” he commends, rubbing his dirties hands on his apron before opening the door for you. What can I get you?”
Personally, you thought Choso was a bit too rugged to be working in a floral shop. He always seemed to carry himself in such an awkward manner and had an authoritative yet welcoming aura to him, his shy smiles the highlights of your day. “I want to give it to my friend. Today’s their special day.”
“I see,” Choso’s eyes are already scanning the plethora of flowers he has in his shop, his brows pinching together in thought. “Can you tell me a little bit about them? It’d help to make their bouquet more personal.”
A smile makes its way to your face. “They’re… bright, carefree, innocent, and pure. They almost seem like an angel, if you ask me. I was also thinking about something that represents young love, and… new beginnings?”
You have absolutely no idea what you’re saying. The words coming out of your mouth are beyond your control. You’re sure you’re making a fool out of yourself, but Choso nods understandingly, frows burrowed before he snaps his fingers and turns to you. “White roses describe all of those, but if you want, I can whip up more flowers for you.”
He makes a move to get his scissors and starts listing off flowers with the same meanings, but you run up to him and not so accidentally wrap your hands around his to get him to stop. His eyes widen at your close proximity. You clear your throat and take a step backward, fighting the urge to smile when his cheeks are dusted a fine pink. “White roses itself are fine, thank you.”
He gulps and heads towards the back door, coming out later with a bouquet of white roses. You reach for your wallet before his arm wraps around your wris, his smile wobbly and hesitant. “It’s on the house. You can pay me back with a cup of coffee next time.”
Eyebrows rising at his smoothness, you gratefully accept the flowers and cradle it near to your chest. “A cup of coffee it is.”
Choso chuckles shyly and ducks his head, and you leave the shop with a wave of your hand before walking further and further. Your surroundings shift from the high-rise building and busy streets to a hill covered in trees sprawled out everywhere, flowers blooming and withering at every corner. Sitting down on the soil with your legs crossed, you place the bouquet in front of his headstone, his framed polaroid with Suguru standing in front of you. 
It’s been exactly seven days since you last saw Satoru.
After countless sleepless nights of phone calls from Officer Kento, he’d finally cracked the case with your help. Suguru Geto was found. He’d confessed to all his crimes, his handsome face weary yet relieved. It seemed he’d never once forgotten about that night when he betrayed his friend, and just before he was ushered behind bars, he turned to you. You wished you felt anger towards him for what he did, but there was only sadness. Only regret in his eyes. He looked so tired, so hopeless.
“Thank you,” he said softly, “Thank you for finding me.”
A nod was all you could give. Suguru felt so familiar, yet so strange. You’ve heard tons of stories about him from Satoru, all about their happiest moments together. He’d been his closest friend, the one he shared so many dreams with, and the one who knew him the most. Maybe he knew Satoru wouldn’t fight back once his demons consumed him. Maybe when Suguru was holding his friend’s bloodied hand in the night, he knew – Satoru was never mad at him. He only wanted to save his friend. Maybe he knew Satoru wasn’t completely dead yet, not when he lived in everyone’s heart, and most especially yours.
That night when you returned home, the apartment felt colder than ever. Normally, it would mean a ghost lingered. But there was no longer the sound of Satoru’s humming, and the dishes were left half-washed in your sink. And for the first time in your life, you hated your eyes and how it gave you the ability to see the traces he left behind. 
Because you wished you had enough time to say goodbye. You wish you had told him everything, but the thought of being another tether to the living realm weighed down on you. You couldn’t do that to him. He had to go. For Satoru to truly move into the next life, you had to close your heart and forget him. Just as Suguru’s forgiven himself, and just as Shoko’s accepted her friend’s death - you too had to say goodbye. 
Tears clouded your vision.
The white remnants of his soul sparkled in your apartment. For the last time, you watched as the blue of his hoodie finally disappeared, his hands scrubbing your dishes away fading into nothingness. The plate drops and breaks. Satoru stood, his legs vanishing bit by bit as he saw the running water through his hands. He’d wanted to return your apartment to the way it was before he’d met you, but he knew – his time was running out. He didn’t have energy left to turn everything off.
The water floods your apartment. The new series he’d dearly loved still plays on the TV. 
But he was here – hugged by the earth and decorated with flowers, smiling at you from far away even when you could no longer see him. Placing the bouquet of white roses down at his grave, you smiled at the photo they’d taken months before he died. He still looked just as beautiful – all wide smiles, kind eyes, and soft hands.
To you, he was still alive in your heart.
“I’ll see you around, Satoru.”
2K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 5 months
Text
Flirting with the FBI
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word count: 7.1k
Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???
Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.
A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭
Masterlist
You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.
If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.
Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.
You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.
You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.
“There once was a serial killer,
Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,
He cut, diced and slashed,
Left the feds quite abashed,
So I leave this message to be clearer”
The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.
You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.
You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.
None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.
And you really wanted to listen in.
The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.
Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.
A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.
With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.
“There once was a bullpen full of agents,
Who thought they were very surveillant,
But a simply code crack,
And there system did hack,
A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”
This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.
The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.
Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.
He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.
Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.
“The tall, dark and handsome employee,
How I do wish that he could enjoy me,
I would gladly submit,
we match wit for wit,
But he's trying his best to arrest me.”
The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”
The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.
You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.
A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.
After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.
By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.
So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.
“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,
I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,
the killer, you see,
Is right now hunting me,
You're the ones who can do better tracking.”
You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.
That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.
You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,
Who I simply and truly just need,
I would lie on my back,
And then let him attack,
Any inch of my body with his seed.”
He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.
Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.
You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.
He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.
This latest limerick was his last straw.
“The cameras are how I can see you,
I do find myself enjoying the view,
His hair is so fine,
I wish he was mine,
The agent with more PhDs than two.”
“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.
“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”
“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”
“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”
They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.
“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.
“The agents grew closer by day,
As the killer wanted to escape,
He paced across the floor,
As I watched by his door,
Getting closer than the agents could say.”
He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.
“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”
“Officer Falstaff, why?”
“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.
“Spencer, wait-”
“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”
Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.
“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.
“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”
“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”
Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.
“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”
His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”
“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”
“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”
The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.
The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.
Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.
Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.
The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.
“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.
A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.
The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.
You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.
“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,
Working with you has been like a dream,
When Reid comes it is wet,
And my mind is all set,
Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”
The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.
“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.
“When you find me there's lots for me to say,
I can't help simply feeling this way,
Your profile I read,
Can't believe you're a Fed,
I yearn for you all night and day.”
Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.
He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.
You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.
“The Doctor had finally cracked it,
The only identity that could fit,
The pretty young thing,
Who'd been flirting with him,
And was thinking of sitting on his…”
You sent a second message along with the first.
“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”
The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.
xxx
So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.
You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.
Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.
You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.
He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.
He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.
“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.
“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”
“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”
“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.
“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.
“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”
“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”
“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”
“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”
He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.
“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.
“As much as anyone does.”
“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.
“What do you think, Doc?”
“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.
“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.
“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.
“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”
“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”
For the first time in a while, you were speechless.
“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”
“Why, Y/N?”
You sighed and looked back up at him.
“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.
“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.
“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”
He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.
“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”
“You want to sleep with me?”
His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.
The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.
“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”
To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.
“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”
You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.
“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.
“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”
You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.
“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”
Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.
“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”
“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”
The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.
A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.
“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.
You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.
“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.
“No, you don't.”
“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”
“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”
“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”
“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”
He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.
“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”
He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.
“Can we keep this serious, please?”
“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”
“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.
“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.
“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”
Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.
“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”
“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”
“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”
“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”
You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.
He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.
It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.
“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”
“I'm driving you home.”
“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”
“What about friends?”
“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”
His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.
“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”
“What?”
“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.
“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”
“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.
“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.
“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.
He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.
The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.
“Spencer!”
“Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”
“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”
You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.
“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.
“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”
The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.
He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.
“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.
“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”
“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”
He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.
“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.
“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”
“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.
It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.
When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.
“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.
“And let you touch my things? No.”
You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.
“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.
“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.
“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.
“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.
“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”
You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.
He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.
You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.
“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”
“What's the difference?”
“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."
"And what would that be?"
"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”
“Brat,” he spat at you.
“Fed,” you spat back.
“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.
“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.
“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”
His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.
“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”
You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.
“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”
“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.
“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”
With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.
The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.
His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.
“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.
With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.
“Fuck, Spencer-”
“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”
“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.
“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.
“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”
“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.
“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.
Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.
“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”
His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.
“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”
“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.
“Say it.”
“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”
“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.
“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.
“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.
Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.
Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.
They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.
“Who I simply and truly just need.”
He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.
“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”
A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.
“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”
His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.
He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.
“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.
You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.
You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.
He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.
If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.
He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.
Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.
When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.
“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.
“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”
“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.
Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.
When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.
He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.
“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
Text
Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 
A03
Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 
Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 
Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 
More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 
 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.
Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 
Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 
He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 
(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 
He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 
"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 
Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.
Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 
Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."
"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.
"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 
Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 
Would Harrington pitch a fit? 
Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 
Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 
Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 
Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 
Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.
"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 
Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 
"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  
"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.
The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 
"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.
He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 
"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 
A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 
How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…
He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 
"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 
He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 
There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 
Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 
Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."
Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 
The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."
'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'
Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."
"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 
He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 
He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.
 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 
"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."
Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.
Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 
A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.
(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)
A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.
"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.
No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.
Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 
He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 
Several somethings, in fact. 
"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 
"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 
Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 
An unfair advantage, really. 
‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 
Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.
"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 
Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.
Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 
"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 
Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.
 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 
"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 
It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.
Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 
Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 
Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.
"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 
"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"
Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 
He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 
"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 
"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 
Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 
"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 
Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink. 
"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 
"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.
Judged.
Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 
Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 
"Anybody else?" He asked. 
"Nobody human." Steve replied. 
"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 
He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.
"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 
Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 
He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 
The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 
With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 
All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 
Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 
The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 
Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 
"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.
Steve blinked. "Uh…" 
"You take any today son?" 
Steve his head. 
"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 
Course he hadn't. 
"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.
Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 
He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 
4K notes · View notes
tbaluver · 2 months
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Hiii! Can you make general Sylus HCs?? Fluff ones though! YOURE LIKE A BREATH OF FRESH AIR OMG LIKEEEE THE FLUFF MAKES MY HEART SIMPLY M E L T !
Sylus Headcanons- Love And DeepSpace
a/n: omg anon you're so sweet thank you so much ♡´・ᴗ・`♡ i hope you'll like this and i hope this is okay!! <3
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy! <3
genre: fluff fluff
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⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
General Headcanons ˎˊ˗
This man is big everywhere. If you have or seen the memory of Within Reach you know what I'm talking about. Since he has quite a large build in height and muscle, he probably has trouble finding clothing in his size in store. Sleeves would be too short or pants would be too tight so often he would have to get them tailored but it's fine because he has all the money in the world.
This man is 6'2. Since he's tall, mirrors can cut off your head or usually shower heads are mounted too low so he would have to crouch down often. But later on he took down any small mirrors and adjusted the shower to his height for his liking.
Would try to eat a healthy balance meal 3 times a day unless work got in the way. He also probably has the best skincare routine ever. He would have cleanser, toner, serum, moisturizer, and different types of sunscreens for morning or even at night.
In Tender Curve, he mentions he's there to feed a cat. Whenever he has the time he'll leave cat food outside for any strays. He has no time to take care of any pets and also Mephisto would squawk at him nonstop with jealously.
He probably thought he would never sing in his life until Luke and Kieran 'pestered' him to try it out in the karaoke room. He thought why not he had nothing else to do. He would lose track of time due to Luke and Kieran cheering him on. So if being the Onychinus's Leader never works out he figures he can be an idol in the future.
The type to accept any business as long as it's near your location whether it work or you have things to do in that area. How would he know your location? You would have your location posted on your moments and sometimes Luke and Kieran talk about you a lot. He would use any business matter to talk to you and ask if you can help him with any errands.
Relationship Headcanons ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Sometimes he'll let Mephisto spy on you and update him on what you like to eat so he can learn how to cook it for you when he doesn't have the personal chef around. He likes trying new recipes and you are always there to try them or help him make it. Would love it when you would hug him behind while he's in the kitchen cooking or the other way around.
Not super big on PDA especially in the N109 zone but will do gestures like his hand on your lower back or his arm around your waist. But in private he would be a lot more affectionate. In the car, he loves having one of his hands intertwined with yours as it rests on your lap while his other hand is on the wheel. Lots of forehead kisses. Sometimes would tease you because of your height difference and make you try to reach him to kiss him on his lips. Eventually he'll crouch down to kiss you after watching you struggle.
If anything were to upset you, he'll always be there to listen and to comfort you. He'll hold your hand or wrap and arm around your waist, rubbing soothing small circles reassuring you on whatever the issue is or helping you find a solution to whatever the problem is. If it was anyone that bothered you, they might want to sleep with one eye open.
He's also kinda silly. When you walk in his bathroom while he's shaving, he'll put some of the cream on your nose because he thinks your reaction would be funny.
Would always have an outfit to have for you to match with him in a business meeting. But if you wanted a different outfit he would find something to match with you that way everyone knows that you two are together.
He's extremely thoughtful. He remembers even the smallest details you have mentioned to him. He'll always find the perfect gift to give you on anniversaries or birthdays.
What's his becomes yours. You want his clothes even though they might be too big for you? Take the whole closet. He'll find his clothing in your fitting quite adorable actually. He'll even give you keys to his armory, he has many so choose whatever you want. He even let's you have Luke and Kieran as your henchmen too as long as he gets to have them back for work.
983 notes · View notes
serpentandlily · 3 months
Text
Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader
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Lost in a Labyrinth Part III - Azriel x Reader
Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 
Warnings: angst angst angst 
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Part III
and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
The First Attempt
Poison was probably the easiest and cleanest way to kill somebody. It involved very little effort on your part, just a slip of the hand to pour the poison into their drink when they weren't looking. It usually didn't involve blood or puke unless you got one of the nastier poisons, which you never did anyways. Some of the girls were more sadistic though and well, you couldn't blame them for it. 
But while it was the simplest method of killing someone, it was probably one of the harder ones to pull off. First, faeries had very good senses, especially when it came to smell. One sniff of their drink could expose the poison in it, unless you were able to get your hands on one of the odorless ones. Those were more expensive though and Lydia and Keir certainly weren't willing to fund you guys besides your nightly rate from your clients. 
However, when you had made a trip to the apothecary in the underbelly of Hewn City, you had begrudgingly forked over the money for one of those clear, odorless poisons. There was no way anything else would get past Azriel and his shadows. 
Your heart ached in your chest as you stared at the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart in your pleasure room. Azriel had been kind to you. He had offered you some mercy by buying out your nights and not returning until that fateful meeting at the party. And while he clearly liked being more dominant while bedding you, his touch had been gentle, soft. No one had ever shown you such care and here you were, plotting out his murder. 
But you simply had to do this. Freedom was only one dead body away for you. One more hit and you could finally wash your hands of this place, disappear to another court—perhaps one that would allow you to bathe in the sunlight for the rest of your days, something the citizens of Hewn City had never really experienced.
Kill Azriel.
Kill the shadowsinger and you'll be free to go. 
Those had been Keir's exact words. 
You had killed before. There was a time when your finger was covered in black lines, a new one added every time you didn't have enough money to pay the house fee or enough for food and had to borrow from Lydia. One every time you failed to perform for a client, no matter what they asked of you. But now you were down to one last mark. 
One for the Shadowsinger. 
One for Azriel. 
You let out a sigh, sitting down at your vanity to brush your hair. Azriel was due to show up any moment now. Ever since that night at the party, he had been coming by at this time every single night. He would buy out all the nights Lydia would allow him to before showing up. 
He never even made it seem like he expected sex on any given night. Sometimes the two of you would just cuddle in bed, whispering stories to each other about your lives. Sometimes he would come all tense and frustrated with whatever the High Lord had demanded of him. On those nights you would offer to give him a massage and listen to him complain about how much he hated his work. It seemed like the two of you had that in common, at the very least. 
You hadn't made any attempts yet. You told yourself it was because you were planning out the best way to kill Azriel. Poison, knives, strangling. There were a multitude of ways to do it. But you knew deep down what the true reason was. You had grown fond of the Shadowsinger. You didn't want to kill him.
But your wants and needs had never really ever agreed with each other your whole life. 
So here you were. Waiting for Azriel to come so you could poison him and be done with this Gods awful place. You wanted out of the labyrinth and unfortunately, this was the only way. 
No matter how much you liked Azriel, he was the one standing in the way of your freedom. 
You saw his shadows before him. They seeped underneath the door to your room like smoke. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of them before pure dread washed over you. 
Kill Azriel. 
Kill him. 
A gentle knock on your door was heard before it was pushed open and the Shadowsinger stepped through the threshold, his beautiful face illuminated by the candlelight. His hazel eyes searched the room until they landed on you and you watched as they lit up ever so slightly—the most emotion he would allow himself to show.
You set your brush down and stood to face him. Azriel stalked forward and by his body language alone, you knew the sort of mood he was in. You braced yourself on the vanity behind you as he came to a halt in front of you, tilting your head up to stare at his lethal and devastatingly beautiful face. 
He didn’t speak as he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you with a frenzy that lit your body on fire. You returned the passion, stringing your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him. His presence washed over you like a tempestuous storm, all encompassing. You lost yourself in it—in him. 
You had never felt so taken by someone before. But being with Azriel was just so easy. He was a breath of fresh air in this otherwise suffocating labyrinth. 
He pulled away all too soon.
You opened your eyes, heart pounding in your chest. “What was that for?”
“I missed you,” he murmured, voice hoarse. 
You smiled up at him. “You saw me last night, silly.”
“And yet still I miss you the moment I leave.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck and your hands slid into his dark hair. He exhaled a breath that kissed the sensitive skin of your throat. 
You didn’t want to say it out loud, but you felt the same way. Every second apart from Azriel felt like a lifetime. You gently raked your nails over his scalp and you felt his body loosen in your hold, finally relaxing. 
Your eyes fell on the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart. So unassuming. So ordinary. But it held your freedom. You swallowed harshly as Azriel pulled away from you
“Go sit,” you said to him, nudging him in the direction of the couch. “I’ll get you something to drink.”
You watched him take a seat as you moved over to the bar cart. You picked up a whiskey glass, not even realizing how much your hands were shaking until you did so. You quickly set it back down on the cart, taking a deep breath.
You could do this.
All you had to do was just pour him a drink. Just one drink. That’s all it would take. One drink and he’d be dead within the hour. He’d be dead and your bargain with Keir would be over. You would be free. 
“I need to make a trip back to Velaris before it gets too late.” Azriel’s voice caused you to jump, almost knocking over the whole cart. “I have to give my mission report to Rhys before the day is over.” 
“You mean you haven’t gone to see the High Lord before coming here?” 
“No,” Azriel answered. “I…I just wanted to see you first.”
Your heart snapped into a million pieces in your chest. You frowned, staring at the back of his head. You could hear the hesitation in his voice—could feel how much it had taken out of him to admit that. Azriel wasn’t very forthcoming, so to blatantly confess something like that…
Fuck, you couldn’t do this. Not like this. You couldn’t kill him like a Godsdamn coward. 
You grabbed the decanter and dropped it on the floor, watching it smash into a million pieces just like your heart had. The whiskey splattered on the ground, soaking into the carpet. Azriel whipped around at the noise, eyebrows high. 
You turned red and stuttered out, “Oops. I-It slipped right out of my hand.” 
He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. You quickly looked away, your heart pounding in your chest. You had been minutes away from killing him. Tears lined your eyes as you knelt down to start picking up the glass shards. Azriel was at your side in a second, grasping your elbow and pulling you up off the ground. 
“Don’t touch it. You’ll cut yourself,” he murmured. “Let me take care of it.” 
His care, his concern, it only made you feel so much worse. You sucked in a breath of air, trying to blink away the tears.
“Hey, hey,” he whispered, grasping your face with his scarred hands. He lightly stroked your cheeks with his thumb. “What’s wrong?” 
You stared up at him, into his devastating hazel eyes. “Why are you so kind to me?” Your voice cracked, your throat hoarse as you held back your cries. “I have done nothing to earn your care.” 
“Earn my care? Angel, you don’t have to do anything to earn my care. I care for you because…because,” Azriel paused for a moment, almost like he was debating something. “Because you allow me an escape from my duties—from my incredibly lonely life. When I’m with you, I don’t think about anything else. There is nothing you need to do for me. Just allowing me to see you—to be with you—that is enough.” 
“Azriel, I….” You wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to tell him about your bargain with Keir—about the steward’s demand that you kill him. But the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth. “I just wanted to help you relax and I’ve already messed it up. I’m sorry. Let me go down to the cellar to get another bottle—”
“I don’t need alcohol to relax. I just need you, angel.” 
You were speechless. So utterly speechless. Any words you might’ve said got caught in your throat. All you could do was stare up at him—up at this beautiful male who had shown you he was nothing like the reputation that followed him around. He was gentle, kind, and so much better than anyone you’d ever met in this wretched city. He deserved so much more than this, so much more than you. 
“Okay?” Azriel said, knocking you out of your thoughts. 
You nodded your head, swallowing down your cries. 
“Okay,” you murmured back. 
Tonight you’d give him what he wanted. It was the least you could do. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Azriel flew back to Velaris feeling lighter than he had in decades. It was probably irresponsible that he had gone to see his mate before giving his High Lord his mission report, but he had needed to see her. To feel her in his arms after the day he had in the Illyrian mountains. 
Tonight had been a blessing. She always took care of him like she knew exactly what he needed. And tonight he had just needed to hold her. She had talked him into a massage, her hands magic against his skin and muscles and then they had just laid together, talking about everything and nothing. 
He felt more rested than he would have if he had tried to go to sleep. He felt refreshed, buoyant—like he could take on anything that was thrown his way as long as he had his angel to return to. 
It was nearing six in the morning now and he knew Rhys would be awake, usually tending to Nyx while Feyre got some desperately needed rest. He landed with a small thud in front of the River House and quietly made his way inside. He paused as his shadows whispered to him that Rhys was waiting in his office—no babe in sight. 
When he opened the door to the office, Rhys was indeed waiting for him—arms crossed and his brows furrowed. Azriel quietly closed the door behind him, pulling out his report from the shadow realm and setting it on the desk in front of his High Lord. Rhys glanced down at it for a second before looking back at him. 
“Azriel,” Rhys said, “Where have you been all night? I’ve been trying to reach you but your mental shields were up.”
Azriel cleared his throat before answering. “I had a matter to attend to before I came here.” 
He kept his voice devoid of any emotion. He didn’t want anyone to find out about her yet—his angel. She was his for now. His secret, his love, his mate. 
Rhys raised an eyebrow at him, nostrils flaring. “Is this matter the reason why you smell of cheap perfume and aphrodisiacs?” 
Azriel shrugged, nonchalantly. “This matter is none of your business.” 
“Am I wrong to assume that your scent means that you’ve taken my advice?” 
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw twitched but he refrained from speaking in anger. “Everything you need to know about the mission is in that report,” he said, nodding towards the file on Rhys’s desk. “If that is all, I will take my leave.” 
Rhys frowned. “No, that is not all. Please, sit, Azriel. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” 
Azriel begrudgingly sat in the armchair in front of Rhys’s desk. All he wanted to do was go back to his apartment and get ready to see his angel again in a few hours. He’d once again bought out all her time slots, leaving her with no clients other than himself. Meanwhile, he tried every night to convince her to leave with him, to return with him to Velaris. But something was holding her back…or perhaps she didn’t feel for him the way he did for her. 
That was a depressing thought that he frequently lingered on. 
“What is it?” Azriel asked, wanting to get this conversation over with. 
Rhys rubbed his jaw, his striking violet eyes assessing Azriel. “I’ve been meaning to apologize for the way I spoke to you on Solstice Night. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t angry when I saw you and Elain together, so ready to make your…affections known in plain sight—especially when she has yet to reject the bond with Lucien. But I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.” 
Azriel tensed in his chair at the memory of that night—at the cruel words Rhys had thrown his way. But unlike before, no hurt came from the memory. No hurt, no longing, no despair. Nothing. Instead, where that hole had been in his chest before was now filled with thoughts and longing for his angel…his sweet mate. 
“It’s fine,” Azriel replied, stiffly. “You did the right thing. It would have been a political nightmare had Lucien seen us.” 
Rhys nodded. “It would’ve. Especially with how many ties he has to other courts—other courts we’re still trying to repair our reputation with. But I treated you like one of my subjects that night and not like a friend. It wasn’t just Lucien I was thinking of, but you too, Azriel. I don’t want to see you hurt if you give your all to Elain and she decides to pursue the bond further down in the line.” 
“It wasn’t your choice to make. It was mine,” Azriel can’t help but say. To his surprise, Rhys nodded his agreement.
“You're right. It is not my choice nor is it my life to live,” Rhys said. “Which is why I’ve decided to rescind my orders for you to stay away from her. I just ask that if you two do pursue something together, please use discretion—especially when Lucien is around. At least until she fully rejects the bond or tells him of her own affairs. Is that reasonable enough?” 
Azriel stood from his seat. “I appreciate the apology, Rhys. But everything else is not needed. I have no plans to pursue Elain or court her. Is that all?” 
Rhys stood as well, his jaw flexing. “So I was right, then? You were willing to throw away our relations with other courts for a female you have no interest in months later? Azriel, I can’t even speak to how irresponsible that would’ve been.” 
“Well, nothing happened. You intervened at the right moment,” Azriel said, coldly. 
Rhys studied him again. “No, that isn’t like you, Az. Something else has happened. Does this have anything to do with that female you had hanging off you in Hewn City? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with a prostitute of all people now.” 
Anger striked through Azriel like lightning. 
“Watch how you speak about her,” he snarled, hands flexing. 
Rhys gaped at him with a disbelieving look. “Godsdamnit, Azriel. Are you that desperate for love that you have truly fallen for someone you’re paying to be in your company?”
“If you are truly my brother,” Azriel growled. “If you truly have my best interest in mind, then you will drop this now. I don’t need your advice or your concern.” 
“Of course I have your best interests in mind! But, Azriel, this is lunacy. I don’t know what that female has told you, but she only cares for your money. If you had any sense, you’d put a stop to this—”
Azriel lunged forward, slamming his hands on Rhys’s desk, shadows spiraling around him. 
“I said,” he snapped, bearing his teeth, his voice as cold as ice. “Watch how you speak about her.” 
Rhys’s mouth dropped open in shock and before he could say anything else, Azriel disappeared in a flurry of shadows. He needed to leave, far too tempted to rearrange Rhys’s face with his fists. So he let his shadows take him somewhere else he knew he could let off steam—the training ring.
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
The Second Attempt 
Azriel was laying next to you, fast asleep. Even his shadows had rescinded to the dark corners of the room, content to leave their master in your hands. The hands that were currently holding a dagger, shaking as you straddled his sleeping body. 
Why was this so hard?
You had killed plenty of males like this before. 
But as you stared down at Azriel’s beautifully peaceful face, something ached terribly in your chest. He looked so much more boyish when he slept. His dark hair tousled, his large wings relaxed, the harsh lines of his face smoothed out. 
The room was dark except for the singular candle on your nightstand, half illuminating his handsome face. He was nude from the waist up, his swirling Illyrian tattoos on display—tattoos you often traced over as the two of you laid in bed together. 
It had taken a while for Azriel to actually fall asleep in your presence. The first few times he had spent the night, you had woken up to him holding you in his arms, staring at you as though you were his entire world—like nothing else mattered in that moment but you. It had caused your heart to flutter and ache. 
But now here he was, asleep. A sign that he trusted you now. Trusted that he could sleep and not have to be vigilant. And he looked so vulnerable like this. Gentle and soft. Nowhere was the usual foreboding and threatening aura that followed him around.
So vulnerable. 
So unassuming.
So clueless that you were currently straddling him with a dagger held above your head, ready to strike. 
You blinked as you felt watchful eyes on you, freezing. His shadows had meandered out of the dark recesses of the room, slowly crawling your way—like they were giving you the opportunity to stop this yourself before they intervened.
You let out a deep breath and lowered your arms. 
Poisoning him had been a coward’s move and so was killing him in his slumber. If his shadows had any sense, they’d strangle you right here and now. You fell off of him, laying back down at his side. The shadows rescinded, the threat gone in their eyes. 
But as long as your freedom was dependent on Azriel’s life, he would always be in danger around you. No matter how much you wished to not hurt him. No matter what you felt for him. 
Azriel had to die. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Azriel had never felt happiness like this before you. Not truly. He hadn’t even known it, hadn’t known that this was something he could feel. But here he was, his heart full and his mind at peace. There was only one thing that could make this better than it was.
He ghosted his scarred fingers over your bare back, lightly touching your soft skin. You were laying on your stomach next to him, nude except for the silk sheets pulled to your waist. 
His lips twitched as you let out a tiny noise of satisfaction at his touch, turning your head on your folded hands so you could stare up at him. 
He would never tire of staring at you—at your beautiful, serene face. Your alias made perfect sense. Serenity. That was what you made him feel. Though he felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of how many other males might’ve felt like this around you. 
The only solace he had now was making sure that you were his from now on. He didn’t care how much money he had to spend to keep you occupied with him. So long as it meant you’d be his angel and no one else’s. 
You smiled up at him and the sight was so breathtaking, he lost his train of thought. 
“What are you thinking about?” You asked in that sweet voice that melted his ice cold heart. 
“You,” Azriel replied, honestly. 
You scrunched your nose at him, your smile growing. He trailed a finger down the slope of it, watching your eyes flutter at his soft touch. 
“That’s what you always say.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s the truth.” 
“You're sweet,” you teased, making him chuckle.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever described me as sweet, Angel.”
It was your turn to shrug a shoulder. “You’re sweet to me.” 
“You’re special,” he said, so genuinely that it made your heart skip a beat. 
“Am I?” 
“Yes,” he said, brushing your hair off your back and over your shoulder. “Of course you are.” 
You closed your eyes with a hum, content as he began to trace lines down your back again. 
“Can I ask you something?” 
Your eyes flew open, brows furrowing. You gave him a small nod, curiously. 
“Do you…” he trailed off for a second, his voice lacking the sureness it had a moment ago. “Do you…feel this—this thing between us the way I do?”
“Azriel,” you warned, making his hand pause on your back. This was a topic you tried to stray away from with clients. You weren’t supposed to develop true feelings for any of them and you hadn’t. Not until…
“I know, I know,” he said quickly. “I understand your line of work. But I…I can’t help what I feel, Angel. Tell me you feel it too.” 
You frowned, a nasty feeling coiling in your gut. It should be easy to say no. But that wouldn’t be the truth, would it? No, the truth was you did feel it—that fiery energy between the two of you. Azriel was different. He didn’t feel like a client. He called you by your real name, knew personal details about your life. All things you had shared for some unknown reason. 
All you knew was that you had wanted to share those things with him so you did. You wanted Azriel in a way you’d never wanted anyone else. You wanted to know him, craved his presence when he was gone, loved being with him like this. 
The line between the two of you was so blurred, you weren’t sure it had ever existed in the first place. 
You looked back up at him, your eyes conveying the things you couldn’t yet say out loud. Because you couldn’t let yourself feel like this. 
But Azriel stared back at you, knowingly, like he could read everything you had spelled out in your mind. “You don’t have to say it, Angel. I just need to know.” 
You rolled onto your back, letting out a sigh. “Azriel, we can’t—”
“Why not?” He cut in. “Why not, Angel? If you…if you feel something for me then please, take me up on my offer. Let me take you to Velaris. You don’t even have to live with me. I can buy you your own apartment and anything you need. You’d never have to work again. I could take care of you, Angel, the way you deserve to be taken care of.” 
And what a life that would be. Free of this place, of this gods awful city. Free to live with Azriel. Free to do as you please. Free to bask under the sun, to see the stars in all their glory—no longer buried under this mountain. 
But it wasn’t possible. It was a dream and only a dream. So long as that mark was still on your finger, this was all you could offer him before he’d meet his demise. 
“Azriel, I can’t,” you murmured. “You know this.” 
“But why? Whatever reason or worry you have, tell me. I can’t stand leaving you here day and night. I can’t stand the thought of another having you.”
You rose from the bed, hiding your face from his sight so he didn’t see the tears lining your eyes. You quickly shrugged on a night gown, hugging yourself as you lingered by your dresser. 
You didn’t want to talk about this. You didn’t want to confront this head on. You couldn’t. Just like your other dreams, it would never come true for you. 
Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he had pushed too far but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry. I’ll drop it just please come back to bed.” 
You squeezed your eyes shut. You should kick him out, send him home. You should tell him to never come back even if it meant you’d be stuck in this place forever without his death on your hands. 
“Please,” he whispered. “Come back.” 
The pure desperation in his voice had you folding. You laid back down next to him, let him take you in his strong arms once again. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
The Third Attempt
It had taken at least twenty minutes for you to lug Azriel off the bed and into the chair that you dragged into the center of the room. The faebane laced sleep draught had done its part in this scheme. Azriel had been knocked out, his shadows nowhere to be seen. 
And now you were tying him to the chair with some strong rope, in knots you knew he wouldn't be able to undo. 
Another week had gone by with no attempts on his life due in part to your growing feelings for the shadowsinger. But a visit from Keir had you snapping out of whatever hold Azriel had on you. You needed to do this. You needed to kill him and put an end to this. It wasn't fair, it was never going to be fair but it had to happen.
Out of all the males you had killed, you knew this was the only one that would linger with you for the rest of your life. But it was a necessary sacrifice if it meant you could not only leave this awful city but this Labyrinth too. 
You decided you weren't going to be a coward about this. Azriel deserved to be looked in the eyes as you killed him, otherwise the shame might just eat you alive. It would be so much easier to just try and poison him again but you knew this was the only way it would get done. Maybe you could explain it to him, maybe he would understand. 
Hell, part of you was hoping he'd fight his way from the binds and end your life himself. Would that be a better outcome to this mess? 
You were still debating that.
For now you leaned against the wall, fiddling with your dagger as you waited for him to wake up. You had spent all last night making sure he was happy—content. You had given him everything. Your body, your heart, your mind. It would be your last gift to him. 
But your freedom was hanging in the air between the two of you and that far outweighed anything else. You had been lost in this labyrinth for far too long. It was time for you to finally find your way out. Unfortunately, your way out was through th—killing the one male who had made you feel things you'd never thought you would.
"A-Angel?"
Azriel's hoarse voice made you stand up straight, your gaze falling on him tied to the chair. He blinked a few times, still a bit drowsy from the draught. You watched as he slowly realized his predicament, that he was tied up and without his shadows. He yanked at the binds that had his arms held behind his back, strung up to the chair. 
"Angel," he repeated, finally catching sight of you, "What...what is this? Why...why am I tied up?" 
You stalked forward and he noticed the dagger you held in your hand. His eyes went wide with alarm and he stared up at you in disbelief. He tried to yank himself free again, making the wood of the chair groan. 
“What are you doing?”
“I didn’t want to do this,” you started with a sigh. 
Azriel stopped his struggling, raising an eyebrow at you. “Do what?”
“Kill you,” you said, bluntly. 
Azriel was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your brows furrowed in confusion at his reaction. Normally this was when males started demanding you untie them or pleading for their lives depending on how much pride they had. 
“What’s so funny?” You snapped, taking a step closer to him. 
Azriel shook his head, his laughter fading. “You’re not going to kill me.” 
You frowned. “I am. I have to.” 
Azriel leaned back in the chair, his wings held out proudly. He had completely ceased his struggling, all the alarm gone from his eyes. “And pray tell, Angel, why do you have to kill me?” 
“It doesn’t matter,” you answered quickly, trying to regain your composure. “Not to you anyways.” 
“Well, seeing as I am the one about to die,” Azriel remarked, so nonchalantly, “then I think it does matter.”
He smirked at you, furthering your confusion. Why was he acting so…so calm?! You narrowed your eyes at him, closing the distance between the two of you.
“Why are you smiling?” You huffed, fisting his hair and pulling his head back to expose his throat. You pressed the dagger against his pulse point. 
“It’s cute that you think you’re in control here,” he shrugged, that smile not leaving his face. 
“I am in control here,” you snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the one tied up!”
“Am I?” He drawled out before yanking at the binds again. “Ah, you’re right. I am.”
You stepped away from him with a sneer. “Why are you acting like this!”
“Like what, Angel?” He smirked at you again, flicking his hair out of his face. 
“Like I’m not about to kill you! Like you’re not about to die!” 
“I’m hoping we can talk this out,” Azriel shrugged. 
“There is nothing to talk about,” you growled, frustrated. You’d expected some yelling or shouts from him, maybe a few pleas thrown in but not whatever this was. 
“I beg to differ,” he replied, “seeing as I’m about to die, I’d like to know why.” 
“Because…you…I—fuck!” You turned away from him, holding the sides of your head in exasperation. You squeezed your eyes shut, Keir’s words replaying in your head on repeat. 
The smile dropped from Azriel’s face at the show of your distress. “Angel, come on. Just drop the dagger and talk to me. Whoever has put you up to this can be dealt with.” 
“You don’t understand,” you cried out. 
“Then make me understand,” Azriel pleaded. “Please.” 
“I have to kill you, Azriel,” you wept. “I have to or I’ll be stuck here forever.” 
“Stuck here? Stuck in The Labyrinth?”
“Yes!” You let out a tiny sob, still not facing him. “If I don’t….if I don’t kill you, I won’t be able to leave.” 
“Angel,” Azriel whispered, “Why would you be stuck here? If you need help leaving, I’ve already offered to get you out.” 
You whirled around to face him. “I can’t just leave, don’t you get it! I can’t just walk out of here like you. I’m trapped.”
“Trapped? Angel, please explain it to me. You’re not making any sense.”
“I was so, so stupid. So stupid, so naive,” you cried. 
“Just tell me what it is,” Azriel said, gently. “Let me help you!”
“You can’t,” you whispered, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. “You can’t help me. Not with this.” 
“Why?”
“Because I made a bargain with Keir,” you said, staring down at the dagger in your hand. “All the girls here have to do it. We get to work here, not get sold off and eventually we will be allowed to leave but…”
“Not without a price,” Azriel filled in the blanks. “So what do you owe Keir favors or something?”
You shook your head. “We’re given marks and targets. He tells us a name and we…we kill them for him.” 
“And let me guess, Keir gave you my name?”
“Yes, he did,” you sighed. “You’re supposed to be my last mark. After this…I’ll be free.”
Silence fell over the room. Silence until Azriel uttered one sentence. 
“So kill me.”
Your head shot up in surprise. “W-what?”
“Kill me,” he repeated, staring directly into your eyes. “If it means you’ll be free, if it means you can leave this place and have a life of your own…kill me.”
“Azriel,” you murmured. “I—”
Azriel yanked himself out of the binds, causing you to gasp. He gripped your arm and dragged you to him, angling the dagger right against his heart.
“Do it, Angel,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Kill me. I want you to be free. I want a better life for you. So kill me.” 
You stared at him, tears pouring down your face. Your hand was shaking as you held the dagger against his skin. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Azriel was giving you his permission, telling you to do it, to kill him. 
He kept a firm grip on your wrist, burying the dagger deeper so it pricked his skin. A small droplet of blood formed, sliding down his bare chest. “Do it, Angel, please.” 
“I-I…I can’t,” you sobbed. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself to push the dagger straight through to his heart, you couldn’t. “I can’t.” 
“Why?” Azriel asked. “Why can’t you?”
“I just…I can’t—”
“Why!” Azriel shouted, making you jump. Your hand was shaking so bad now, tears still streaming down your cheeks. “Why can’t you do it! Tell me why!”
“I don’t know,” you stuttered out through a sob. “I don’t know—”
“Yes, you do,” Azriel said, sternly. “You know why.”
You shook your head, sobbing. He pressed the dagger deeper into his skin. “Why can’t you kill me, Angel? Come on, you know. You know why.” 
He was right. 
You knew why.
You’d known all along. Since the moment you had laid eyes on him that night he came to your room. Something deep inside of you had recognized it and subconsciously buried it. But you couldn’t deny it any longer. 
“Say it,” Azriel demanded. “You know why. Say it!”
You let out a sob.
“You’re….you’re my mate.”
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
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astrologylunadream · 7 months
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How They Want to Please You [SPICY] 💌🌹🫦 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)
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Hey it's Lunadream~💋 This is a reading on your person and how exactly they would want to please you and their approach to that!!🤭❤️‍🔥 hope you find your message💌
(This is a spicy reading🔥 Some piles more intense than others)
Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)
Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~❤️
Pile 1💋
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Pile 2🔗
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Pile 3❤️
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Pile 4🍒
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Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡
On to the readings —> ❤️‍🔥
Pile 1💋
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Sign energy: Long, Threat, Marriage, Therapy, Stress, Jupiter, Libra, 8th house, Cancer, 3rd house,👈🧱🤴🤒
👤Your person's energy: Okay for some reason I was getting indirect Taurus energy but anyways your person VERY good at communication, omg they may take part in long discussions and like drawn out conversations or hypothetical stuff.. or simply just talk alot LOL💬😂 For signs we have Sagittarius, Pisces, Libra, Scorpio, Cancer and Gemini wow those may be significant. Some of my pile 1's are very attracted to the way this person talks.🗣🥰🩷 I'm getting that your person may always feel like they need someone to listen to them because my pile 1's your person has a lot of stress omg they need to let it out😭 Talking with others may feel like true therapy to them, they feel better when they have someone to talk to🥺💕 For some of you this person has long legs or even bigger features, something is definitely long about them.🙈😈 I'm also hearing "why the long face?" So maybe your person has a worried look washed upon their face, oh this could be because their stress.😟💧 Some of you are in a committed relationship to this person or you see them as marriage material.💍✔️ It is hard for your person to open up to just anyone on a deeper level, they may have been in bad relationships before or over shared themselves. This person might have even cut out romantic connections entirely.✋️✂️ Specific message for someone in pile 2 they could have a lot of siblings, I definitely feel your person knows many people or someone could be a therapist. They could have an ex still obsessed with them maybe they're your ex, divorce or break ups may be significant to your person. They do have a magnetic way about them, like I feel like them as a spouse would be so HOT😳 I'm hearing "trophy wife/husband" lol that is what they are like or would be like.🏆✨️ You guys may be a bit obsessed with this person, some of you don't wanna wait for Intimacy after marriage.🙈❤️‍🔥
🌹How they wanna please you: Self love, Fluff, Skill, Inner thoughts, Fairytale, Libra, Eros, Uranus, North node, Capricorn, 🏩😎🌹🐈 My pile 1's your person is so sweet and so naughty at the same time😭😭 First and foremost they want you to be happy and love your life omg they wanna make you feel like you're in a fairytale🥺💖 They also want to make you feel pretty and love yourself just as much as they do. There are so many things they wanna try with you pile 1!! They are literally thinking about a SOLID future with you, they want to provide and pleasure you and give you the love you deserve omfg this is too much💓🪽🥹 They have thoughts of your thing, if you know what I mean🙈🥵 They want to know your body well do everything right with you, like they want to be an expert at it. They may want to experiment a lot with you to see exactly what you like and what pleases you the most.🔥😈😭 Your person is kinky, They also want to use their fingers inside WTF they think about exactly how turn you on. They want you to think good about yourself and feel beautiful with them. Also taking you to a motel so you guys enjoy your time alone and be as unusual as you want?!🏩 Going hard on your 🍑 If you want it🥵 They also want to give you something to see, like doing things to themselves for you. OH MY pile 1 your person would do anything🫣💦 Your person is big on pleasing you visually, but not just with themselves but with everything. Like taking you to beautiful scenery and giving you flowers in hopes that you're just as pleased with that as you are with them✨️💐💗 They just really wanna turn you on and for you to be so happy with them, some of you may be very impressed how much they know what you like. I mean seriously this person thinks pile 1 is so lovely and attractive🥺 They want to please you at the highest level and just make you feel so in love and treated well😭��
💌Messages from your person: It's okay to have high standards, I hear you, I wish I could, I think you're a great person, Your secrets safe with me, Your first love, What are your biggest fantasies? Put your hand on mine. (So sweet🥰🩷) Extra cards: Pisces, Focus, Up, Store, Abandonment, Gemini, Saturn, Uranus, Libra, 10th house
Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the kiss emoji~💋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️
Pile 2🔗
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Sign energy: Attraction, Sensitivity, Important, Only one, Mystery, Chiron, Aquarius, 3rd house, 5th house, 1st house,🖇♀️💼🥳
👤Your person's energy: This is someone very special, you may see them as one of a kind✨️ My pile 2's are attracted to this person and you want to connect with them and have sweet conversations with them😭💓 Signs could be Aquarius, Gemini, Leo or Aries in their chart. Your person has a soft feminine vibe to them (no matter the gender) They may talk in a gentle way. They may have a hobby unknown to you or they hide it, they could be interested in career/hobbies related to entertainment, artist, creator, or music.🎨 I'm getting anonymous vibes from your person, for some in pile 1 they have a secret channel or social media account they share their work on. Now your person may get hurt a lot on accident, they are very sensitive to injuries.😢🩹 Maybe they have a noticable scar for some of you? You feel very connected to this person, like they are your twin flame kinda thing.❤️‍🔥 They work for fun I'm hearing, or start a lot of fun little projects for themselves. They are very creative and sweet, I am getting gentle artistic energy. This could be a close friend for some of you, or a friendly connection between you both. This person may feel like the only one you can talk to like a best friend. They play a big role in your life, they also may be someone important online.📱✨️ They are very fun at parties, I think their sweet and charming nature makes them very attractive to you. This person has such lovely features and gestures!!🥺💖 They also have a senstive side to them, that may have been what attracted you to them as well. You have no idea how they have such a beautiful aura to them lol🥰🩷
🌹How they wanna please you: Pride, Competition, Long, Truth, Decor, Cancer, Water, 9th house, Venus, 1st house, 🗞👑💐🛎 Okay so acts of service may be something your person wants to do for you💓 They want to please you by doing sweet little things for you, this might be the most innocent pile omg it's just so cute🥹💓💕 They want you to make you feel cared for and take pride in yourself! So your person is a bit competitive about pleasing you, maybe there is a situation where they aren't the only one who's out to please pile 2 right now OMG for some of you this person is very defensive over being the only one that pleases you and the best at it. (This makes them so emotional😭❤️) Also taking you on a long trip with them somewhere beautiful ooh and I'm seeing somewhere near water so maybe they're wanting to take you on a vacation somewhere by a body of water so like lakes, rivers or the ocean.🌊🧭💘 They want to please you aesthetically most importantly, making sure your surroundings and over all environment is nice and beautiful enough for my pile 2's🥺💗 I'm getting they definitely wanna win your heart, also flowers!! This is so sweet, they would want to please you by giving you roses and pretty lovely bouquets to express just how genuine their feelings are for you guys omg.. I feel like if you come over to this person's space they will decorate it very beautifully for you to see, like they take pride in their decorating skills I'm hearing.🌸🛍✨️ Also with their appearance, they wish to look amazing for your eyes to see. I can see them wanting to restrain themselves for your pleasure.🫣 They want to serve you in any way they can, that may be something they wish to please you with, lol for some this person wants to clean for you like help with whatever's on your to do list so you can just sit back and be spoiled by them.👑😩💓 This person is head over heels for our lovely pile 2🥰 They want to hold you. I am hearing they truly care for you, they want you to feel comfy and pretty with your surroundings. Ahh pile 2 your person is such ring material LOL.💍
💌Messages from your person: Let me adore you, Focus on us, If I had you, This is madness, It's not what it looks like, I wish I could control it, We will find eachother again, I want to spend my life with you (AHH PILE 2 🥳🤧❤️) Extra cards: Situation, Competition, Fantasy, Worthy, Options, Earth, Jupiter, Sagittarius, 2nd house, Aquarius (Ohh so your person want's to be worthy to compete for your love and for some in this pile they may be a second option for you right now!!)
Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the chain emoji~🔗 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️
Pile 3❤️
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Sign energy: Synchrony, Respect, Diamond, Peace, Flirt, Aries, 3rd house, 10th house, Pluto, Sun,🕳❤️🎨🔙
👤Your person's energy: Okay so there is a masculine energy for this pile's person, very powerful aura about them✨️😎 Prominent energies for them are Aries, Gemini, Capricorn, Scorpio or Leo. The way this person speaks may stand out to you, because they are smooth with their words. For some of you this person is so good at flirting it's scary😳🥵 They can win anyone over with just their words I'm hearing, they have such a magnetic way about them omg🔥🧲 They can make people obsessed with them easily, their public image is seen as something rare. People view your person as sensually attractive. I think they are more playful with the people they know, but when they're interacting with acquaintances they can be very intimidating yet very hot.🤯 They have a bold energy to them, people immediately feel like they should respect or admire them in some way.✨️ Maybe you see yourself in this person, you may share similar views. People fall for your person's charms so quick, there is a deep love and admiration for their self worth. Your person is creative and very interesting in most conversations, they keep things interesting.💬🎉 They could have a deep voice, or a pleasing one that draws you in. They could also be in shape or bigger than you in appearance or vibe. Your person may own accessories made of jems or diamonds📿⌚️ This is a random message but you two would be very physically compatible?!🙈🔥 Yeah this person can draw you in deep and they just say one word and it turns you on LOL😭 Many of my pile 3's are in love with this person, I mean on another level. They are quick witted, I'm also hearing fast reflexes for this person. They shine like a jewel in their productivity or work, I mean they can be really smooth and calm like talking in a low voice but then when they're passionate about something they will consume it😳
🌹How they wanna please you: Pain, Big, Lay down, 11th house, Early, Lilith, Chiron, Cancer, Jupiter, Capricorn,🪫🌧🗒🔱 Omfg pile 3 your person is something else😭 They wanna please you in the most intense way you can handle, I'm hearing they want to drown you in pleasure until it drains you both completely...🪫🥵 They want to be so naughty with you, like filling out EVERY one of your kinks. They want to force you down if it's what works, laying you down and going hard on you💦🥵🥵 They have big fantasies about you and wanna achieve all of yours too. Like I'm not kidding I feel like they literally have a to do list of everything they want to please you with WTF🤯🫣 You bring out a different side of them for real. They would dominate you if it brings you pleasure. They want to record a lot of videos of you two, especially the times they can please you the most. They want to give you pain if it pleases you, but they will also match your intensity and be gentle if they need to.🥺❤️ They want to lay you down and let it out aggressively or just simply cuddle with you, whatever they can do to fullfill your fantasies. They want to make it rain and that's all I'll say.😳 (they could also wish to spend a lot of money on you). They want to give you lots of aftercare and heal you emotionally or physically any way they can. I'm seeing a lot of duality with this person, they could really please you in different ways. They want to comfort you and make you feel safe, but also please you like really hard😈 My pile 3's your person is so naughty for you😭😭 They want grinding and restraining, that's something they think would give you pleasure too. Their dark side really comes out for you guys wtf, I think you heal eachother's issues in some way😢🩹 I can see them wanting to post all about you on their social media, not the bad stuff but just cute photos of you. They save the bad ones for themselves🥵 Wow this pile got crazy also your person wants to suck on your skin (😳) or piercing sensations if that pleases you. Also they want to give you the best one you've ever experienced🔞💭 I'M ENDING IT THERE
💌Messages from your person: I've been so busy, I love us, I know you like me, You're the one that I want, When you look at me like that, Your eyes are beautiful, You have so much worth, Why can't you see? (OMG I'm flipping out that is so sweet😭😍⁉️) Extra cards: Down, Found, Siblings, Cherish, Maze, Juno, Pisces, Chiron, Mercury, 7th house (Your person loves the way you communicate btw they really see you as a straight up soulmate🙈❤️)
Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the red heart emoji~❤️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️
Pile 4🍒
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Sign energy: Right, Museum, Surrender, Reserved, Less, 11th house, Leo, Taurus, Earth, Jupiter,🆘️💁‍♂️💀⛓️
👤Your person's energy: Wow okay so this person is pretty straight forward I'm getting, they may communicate with others online a lot.📱💬 They have a unique look about them.✨️ Something is coming through, they had a bit of an ego death in the past so they became less self-assured or confident in themselves. They are good at making a community for themselves. Prominent sign energies are Aquarius, Leo, Taurus, Sagittarius or Earth signs (Capricorn, Taurus, Virgo) oh and Pisces too. Museums may be significant, also this person may work at in art gallery for someone in pile 4 haha.♥️ I think this person spends too much time online or involved in charity work, they don't speak up their own opinions much I'm hearing.💭🚫 They may change their hair often or they got a hairstyle in the past that significantly changed their whole vibe lol. They have online friends that may not be out for their best interest, I feel like they're kinda on display for everyone to see and pick apart.🥺😡 Maybe your person has some opinions that the people around them don't agree with, that could be why they learned to keep it to themselves and go along with everyone.😭🐑 Their self-expression has been somewhat locked away because don't want to be criticized by others.🔒 I think your person is an out of the box thinker, so they have some unconventional ideas.💡❤️ I don't think they're very self confident, or they have lost that over time. They are in a sort of repressed energy, like they have no freedom for themselves. I'm hearing "stopped being honest" omg maybe they gave up on sharing their opinions🤯 Some of you are at a long distance from this person, maybe you reach from online. Pile 4 your person needs saving omg they are around a lot of toxic people😥☣️
🌹How they wanna please you: Competition, Equality, Work place, Let go, Song, Water, 11th house, 9th house, 3rd house, Capricorn, 🍑🪐🧎‍♂️📸 Ahh okay🙈😍 Now I'm definitely getting a vibe that for some in this pile, this is a friend or they want to be friends with you. They want to get up to your level in order to please you, maybe they feel unworthy or unequal to you in some way😢💔 I can see them wanting to make a playlist for you to please you🤭🎼 They want to achieve success for you, aww like they want to be admirable to you. I'm getting this person could be younger than you a bit, or they just feel like you're superior to them in some way.🏆👑  I am getting similar vibes to pile 2 in terms of their sweet yet competitive approach towards you guys, this person is really emotional over winning you over. Maybe you have many friends and they feel insignificant to you.😰 They really want to rid of the toxic people around them in order to please you, like no gossip or anything.✋️❌️ They may want a healthy circle of friends to be associated with, because they feel like the people around them are ruining their image to you.🥺 Now they want to put in the extra work for you. Probably learn from word of mouth exactly what pleases you, asking your friends or coworkers what you like/dislike. They want to please you spontaneously, like a big surprise. This could be getting you alone and surprising you with a kiss!🥰 They want to please you in that way, also if they could go hard on your 🍑 if you know what I mean😈❤️‍🔥 They would want to use their hands to please you, and grabbing you there. Restraining you or getting you on your knees if you feel good from it.🥵 They may also want to send you photos of them, maybe of their 🍑??😂 Lol they would try anything weird or crazy if you asked them to, because they want to please you and see what works. Aww they want to make you smile and take photos of you like that.😁 They also want to travel with you, maybe taking you to higher places.🗻❤️ They would wanna give you kisses and your thighs/hands💋 I'm seeing they're on their knees for you omg. I could see them writing you a song and sending it to you out of nowhere like "hey I wrote u a song :)" Lol so cute, I can also see them wanting to so all the fun things you need a best friend for.🥺💖 Like they are down to be like a friend to you if you need that, and if you need a good partner? They can do that to.😏❤️‍🔥 I can see them wanting to grab your thigh and push your legs apart too...😳🥵
💌Messages from your person: Your laugh is contagious, You have no idea, Anything for you, Can't you see? Believe me, It's me or them, We are one, You're not interested in anyone right? (Ohh they are competitive over you🤭❤️) Extra cards: Siblings, Intuition, Prove, Over, Bad habit, Jupiter, Saturn, Pisces, 7th house, 2nd house (They also want to provide for you like buying you nice things and committing to this relationship🥺💋)
Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️‍🔥
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the cherry emoji~🍒 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading✨️🤭❤️
Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸
Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3
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navybrat817 · 9 months
Text
Indulgence
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
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I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
2K notes · View notes
torialefay · 18 days
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"you've never had someone be this good to you before?"
perv!changbin x fem!reader
✨ synopsis: changbin couldn't help but to offer his services when he found out that the object of his obsessive thoughts had never been properly taken care of.
✨ word count: ~3.2k
✨ warnings: perv changbin, orgasm control, oral (fem receiving); minors DNI 🔞
✨ note: you can pop over to my masterlist & scroll toward the bottom to find the smut request info & prompts. i would love to receive some prompts that aren't strictly fem!reader (but ofc those are welcome too) <3
• you'd been friends for well over a year, yes. so how could you not have known that this entire time, changbin had been watching you?
• it had started as innocent, really. simply watching the way you walked and how your hips moved side to side with each step. he watched the way your shorts would ride up your thighs every time you sat down. he noticed the way your eyes got so big for him each time you raised your head to look up.
• and slowly, it started to drive him crazy.
• in his head, it was only natural- inevitable really. there was no harm in giving you a little bit of extra attention. nothing wrong with that.
• but before he knew it, he was going to lengths he'd never dreamed.
• friendly banter turned into more extreme measures, like him pulling you into his lap. "playfully" of course, and *not* because of the rush he got knowing that your pussy had just been resting so close to him... only thin fabric separating the two of you.
• although he would never admit it to anyone, he'd secretly taken photos of you. any time you were sitting in your chair, legs wrapped behind the chair legs, which made your ass stick out perfectly in his view. any time your top was low-cut enough to make out the lines between your breasts. any time you were innocently sucking up your drink, licking your lollipop, or licking your lips. he always had his camera at the ready, meticulous in making sure the flash had been turned off. he'd never blow his cover so carelessly.
• he'd "accidentally" drop things next to you just so he could bend down close to you and savor the sight as he came back up. your legs... they looked so soft. he wondered if a day would ever come that you would let him touch them... willingly.
• he'd even go as far as to say something spilled in the seat you were about to go to, so he could lay his jacket down for you to sit on and collect your scent for later.
• when he could finally be alone at the end of the day, he'd make sure he had all of his prized possessions out before he got to work on himself. the photos of you pulled up on his phone. his jacket held up to his face so he could take it in as he began to furiously pump his cock. and before he knew it, he was busting everywhere- his body overwhelmed, begging, and wholly giving in to the thought of you.
• but he didn't think that he'd ever be able to *actually* act on his urges... that is, until you'd messaged him one night that you needed help with something. moving some furniture or something like that- he didn't take the time to read much of the text past "hey, is there any chance you'd be able to come over-." that's all he needed to spring up and out the door.
• after taking care of what you needed, he'd hung around on the couch for a chat. he listened to all of your stories. he admired the amount of information that you entrusted to him. and for you, all of this felt like de-stressing in the most natural way.
• after talking vulnerably about past relationships (at this point, you weren't even aware how you'd gotten to this level of comfort), changbin had managed to squeeze out of you a more intimate conversation- one in which you told him you'd never actually been properly eaten out before.
• his brain couldn't comprehend it. someone as... perfect as you? with those few words, he lost it. all inhibition had left his body now that he'd gotten you to this point.
• "i could, ya know? if you want to of course," he said, his heart leaping inside his chest. he was high off of the adrenaline.
��� "what?" you almost laughed in both embarrassment and disbelief. changbin was your friend, nothing more. why would he even joke about something like that?... well, unless he wasn't.
• "i said i could eat you out. show you it can feel good... if you want." his voice remain firm and steady.
• "where is this coming from?" you asked, your mind full of confusion.
• "nowhere, i-" he cleared his throat, now the wobbliness beginning to catch up with him. "nowhere. i just never would have thought that you hadn't, uhh.. had that before. i'm sorry if i made you feel weird," he mumbled in a rush, beginning to stand up.
• "no changbin, it's okay!" you held your hand out, motioning for him to stay. "i just... wasn't expecting that i guess? you've been such a good friend to me, i never thought..." your train of thought ran off. "i mean i'm just surprised is all. i don't want this to come between us. a spur-of-the-moment thing," you voiced nervously. you still weren't sure of the situation, so why were you saying this?
• "spur of the moment?" he chuckled, shaking his head with a smile. "you don't know how badly i've wanted you? you've had no clue this whole time?"
• "no..." your voice went shaky. "you never said anything." you looked down, not sure what to do.
• "what should i have said? that i've thought about fucking you every day for months on end? that i've spent my days doing everything i can to get closer to you... to want you so badly to the point that i cannot physically stand it? and to get anything possible from you because it turns me on? is that what i should have said?"
• you were taken aback. "get anything possible? what do you mean?"
• "nothing," he huffed defensively. you could tell that he was trying to calm himself down. you didn't think he meant to scare you. "just drop it. please. i shouldn't have said anything in the first place... but now here we are."
• "but..." you started, taking a moment to collect the words in your head. "but what if i do want it?" you looked up at him with nervous but hopeful eyes.
• changbin could feel his pulse begin to heighten. "say the word then, and i'll show you." he tried his best to contain the smile that so badly wanted to spread across his face.
• turns out, you didn't need to say anything. you put on a shy grin as you nodded your head, signaling your readiness. within a second, changbin was springing up, eager to finally turn his fantasies into reality.
• "okay, we can go slow if you want?" he half-smirked, looking down at you now. he'd never seen a more perfect sight.
• "yeah, i think that'd be good," you said, still a bit shy. you weren't quite sure where to go from here, so you gladly let him take the lead.
• "turn this way for me," he instructed, holding his hand out for you to grab onto. you took it, and he pulled slightly towards himself, helping you to rotate so that your body was now turned toward the front of the couch.
• changbin followed up with a satisfied smile at how well you were listening to him. just like his fantasies.
• "can i?" he asked, running his hand down gently to rest at the waist band of your shorts.
• you nodded, nibbling at your lips in anticipation.
• gently, changbin lowered himself to begin removing your shorts. slowly but with smooth hands, he removed your legs, one by one. he was careful with watching you- he'd studied your face far too well to miss out on any changing expressions he could coax out.
• throwing your shorts to the side, he sank to his knees so that he was now almost eye level with your pussy. suddenly, you felt exposed. intimidated. suddenly not quite sure how you'd gotten here.
• you closed your thighs together tightly, the red embarrassment evident on your face.
• "here, don't be shy," changbin said, sensing your hesitancy. he softly placed each hand on the inside of either thigh, applying slight pressure to move them apart. although you were fighting through the nerves, his gentleness washed over you with a much needed calming sensation.
• you let out a deep breath, not sure how long you'd been holding it in. you wiggled yourself a bit, trying to adjust to the newness of the situation as you settled into your position.
• changbin smiled up at you in return, his eyes endearing yet full of excitement. a sense of fulfillment had his brain clouded over.
• he wasted no time in running one hand up until it found the heat of your clothed core. you could tell that his hand was slightly shaking in his bout of disbelief, no matter how hard he was trying to cover it up.
• you shuddered a bit at the feeling of his thumb lightly grazing you, making momentary contact with your clit. it sent a bolt down your spine from a feeling that you'd been missing for far too long.
• changbin started slowly, rubbing up and down, then left and right, then in small, dredgingly slow circles trying to figure out what you liked.
• and if you were being honest, at this point, even you didn't know what you liked. no one had ever touched you like this before- so softly, so tenderly. every movement felt like it was the best sensation you'd ever experienced.
• changbin tried unsuccessfully to jerk his smile down while looking at the sight of you beginning to grind your hips down onto his fingers. you were silently begging him for even more contact. seeing you like this... it was better than he could have ever imagined.
• "let's take these off?" changbin whispered, pulling slightly at the hem of your underwear.
• you nodded, your mind coming out of its haze. you tilted your head just enough to watch as changbin slid them down with ease. almost as if he'd trained to do this all so perfectly... for you.
• the look on his face when he finally came in contact with your core, now entirely unclothed, was something you would never forget. his jaw dropped a bit, as if he couldn't believe what was in front of him. but following, barely a moment after, was a face full of determination. determination for what?... well you hoped you knew the answer.
• changbin again decided to rest his hands on the insides of your thighs so that he could spread you open as wide as possible. he wanted to see all of you. have access to every last inch. he was going to do this right.
• "you have to tell me what feels good, okay?" he cooed, looking up from in between your legs.
• you gave a bashful nod in response, signaling that you understood.
• carefully, changbin brought his fingers back to you, letting you get used to the feeling of his contact without moving. once he could tell that your tension was gone, he slowly started to rub up and down, one inch at a time. the fact that you were so wet for him almost made a gasp fall from his mouth. but it didn't. he wouldn't let it. he was going to have to fight the urge for now, not wanting you to feel overwhelmed by him so quickly. he wanted to savor every second he'd get with you.
• almost painfully slow, he continued to let his fingers slide along, getting you more and more worked up with each movement.
• it wasn't until he was completely sure that you were ready when he moved to land over your clit, which had been throbbing by this point. he remained calm, drawing gentle and slow circles around you to gage your reaction. as you strain out an inhaled breath, he knew he was right where he needed to be.
• he brought his face down to your core, mentally preparing to hold himself back. he didn't know how you'd respond, but he knew this was his only chance. he placed a few soft kisses on your inner thigh, acclimating you to his mouth. the kisses grew lighter and lower as he picked your leg up, kissing down to your knees as he went. he settled with resting your leg over his shoulder, granting him better access to you.
• just like the first time, he positioned his face at the opposite thigh, taking his time with soft pecks and temptingly letting his teeth graze your skin. he calmly lifted your leg to position it in parallel to the other, effectively caging himself in.
• you took a deep breath as you felt his tongue on your core, licking its way up. he didn't take much time before finding your clit and proceeding to roll his tongue up and down, trying to gage your reaction.
• as you gradually let yourself relax, you leaned into the feeling that he was providing you. you focused solely on his movements and how each of them made you tingle in a different way.
• you almost lost your breath entirely as he began sucking in, making the wildest noises and moaning on the spot once he heard you let out a tiny whine yourself. the tingles that were being sent into your thighs was proof enough that you'd never experienced something that felt like... well, this before.
• your heart skipped a beat each time he nipped at you in your most sensitive spot. slowly, you were burning for him. you wanted to scream out- to beg to him to do it again. over and over. but at the same time, you didn't know how you'd be able to bear it.
• but changbin knew you well. a small smirk crept across his face as he realized what he'd done to you. it only made him want to work harder to please you. to make you understand exactly what he's been working for for all of these months.
• "mmm, feels good?" he hummed into you, sending shock waves that only added to the feeling.
• "ye- yes," you strained out, trying to hold back.
• "you like it when i eat you out, huh?" he pulled off just long enough to give you a short smirk. something about his tone almost caused you to convulse on the spot. you were fighting back the urge to throw your knees together entirely.
• "yes," you whined now, grinding down onto his tongue as you went. you wanted so badly to let go.
• "mmm, are you gonna cum for me?" his voice rang out, darker now.
• you reflexively bucked your hips. this was exactly what you needed to spiral. you felt your toes begin to tingle, preparing to lose yourself.
• "yes, -fuck!" you arched a bit, feeling a particularly sharp jolt. "fuck, i'm gonna cum, i'm gonna cum-"
• "no you're not," he stated, fixated on your pussy with his lips still attached. "need you to keep going. cum when i tell you to."
• your eyes shot open. no? what did he mean no? you knew you weren't going to be able to hold it back. this was a side of changbin you'd never seen before.
• as the sensation built, a tear started to build up in the corner of your eye. this was too good. too too good. your legs were beginning to shake already. this was getting to be too much.
• as changbin's eyes came up to connect with yours, you were sure you were gone. you quickly threw one hand down to his hair, pushing his face further into you, while the other hand gripped tightly to the blanket next to you. you watched the tiny smirk in his gaze as you threw yourself down onto him.
• "please, please," you moaned, louder than you'd intended. "please, i'm gonna cum. i have- have to."
• "mmm? you've never had someone be this good to you before?" was all that he responded with, sending the vibrations along with it.
• "please," you cried. "please, i-- OH FUCK," you yelled one last time.
• the joints in your hand began to ache, giving in to the pressure put on it from bunching into the cushions around you.
• this was it. whatever he said, you weren't going to be able to hold it off any more. this was all you could take.
• noticing your shift, changbin smiled. "you can cum now, princess." his tongue returned once more to your clit, holding his lips taut to you. "cum on me right now," he ordered.
• finally, you were able to relish in the quick bolts that were shooting up from the bottoms of your feet and into your core.
• you couldn't stop yourself from yelling out, sending changbin into doing the same
• moans sang out in choirs, each hitting its note precisely as instructed. your hips moved accordingly, trying to ride out your full high, but trembling in the process.
• this was bliss. pure and utter euphoria like you'd never experienced before. in a jolt of a moment, your neck shivered, feeling a tingle working it's way up your spine. and before you knew it, your brain caught up to the feeling, blanking out and turning to static.
• your body reflexively arched, losing control of itself entirely. it was now a slave to the feeling that changbin was giving you. your body reacted to him like he was the only man in the world. and maybe now, to you, he was.
• fighting to finally throw yourself off of him, you wanted to cry. you never knew it could feel this good- so all consuming, so deep. to feel totally and completely taken care of.
• it was then, in your shaking, quivering state that you realized that a few tears had actually been spilled out. you took deep breaths, wiping your eyes as quickly as you could.
• as your mind slowly started to return, you couldn't believe what you'd just experienced. your body was spent. your brain was spent. you didn't know what you could possibly say or do at this point. it's as if you weren't even in the world.
• changbin snaked himself up slowly, wrapping his arms around yours in an attempt to sooth you. "was it okay?" he asked, the tiniest bit of pride in his voice.
• you couldn't help but to laugh in response. "yeah," you blinked as you sniffled. "yeah, i think it was okay."
---------------------
✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3
✨ i promise y'all, one day i will figure out which formatting i like the best & then i will stick to it. i have problems 😭
712 notes · View notes
lvrhughes · 2 months
Text
5 + 1 | L. Hughes
Pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader
Word count: 3.8k
Warnings: none?
Summary: Five times Luke was clearly into you and one time where he finally did something
Requested: No
not my gif!
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1
“Come on buttercup! It’ll be fun, you can stay with Luke the entire time!” Trevor’s voice filled the space, urging you to leave your book and chair in the grass to join him and the others on the boat. 
“But I won’t have my book.” 
“You could take your book?” 
“Not with you all, you’ll splash it.” 
Trevor let out an exaggerated groan, his hands moving up to run through his hair while he watched Quinn ready the boat. 
Trevor was the one who had brought you, Trevor being your first friend when you started working in Anaheim. His loud personality was quick to drag you in, and now you could never escape him. Not even if you tried, so when the opportunity arose, you’d always take it to annoy him. 
“Hey buttercup.” Luke’s voice came from the sliding door, his body leaned out just enough to see you and Trevor. “You coming for a ride?” 
“Sure.” The smile on your face grew as the scowl on Trevor’s face appeared, letting out another groan before walking away. 
Your book placed gently where you had been curled in the chair, walking inside after Trevor and Luke, watching the boys leaned over the counter eating whatever fruits Jack had cut up. 
“Hey, hey! Those are for the boat, get your sticky fingers out!” Jack called, jogging into the kitchen from his previous position on the stairs, where he stood for a few too many minutes looking at his phone. 
Luke’s arms went up in a false surrender while Trevor just shook his head, ignoring his friends complaints and continued eating. Reaching for another piece of the pineapple that had been cut before you smacked his hand. 
“Jack said no.” You grinned, seeing the frown on his face. 
“One more piece?”
“No. Wait.” 
From the corner of your eye you could see the smile Luke wore, shaking his head at the scene before walking out to join his oldest brother. Jack took packing the fruit quickly, leaving you to gather your attire for the boat before joining the boys on the dock. Trevor already lounged on the backseat while the three brothers did the work, leaving you to kick the Zegras boy until he agreed to help the Hughes’ ready the boat. 
“We should always have buttercup here if it means that she’ll get Trevor to work.” Quinn commented, passing another item to Trevor for him to put away, but not before rolling his eyes. 
“You are not taking my best friend just because I’ll listen to her.” 
“No, I think we should.” Jack agreed, his arm snaking around your waist pulling your body flush against his from where you stood on the dock, watching the colour of Luke’s eyes darken with his brother's move. 
“Let go of me Jack, you are not the man I would want to hold me.” The words came out quickly, a soft laugh following them at the offended look on the brunette's face. 
“Is there a man you’d want holding you here?” The question came from Luke, his eyes set on you while Trevor’s widened, looking over to the youngest Hughes. 
A moment of silence followed, Luke’s eyes never leaving yours before Jack broke the silence, coughing into his hand to bring everyone’s attention back to the fact the boat was ready now. Luke, who already stood in the boat, held his hand out, helping you into the boat as his brothers united it from the dock. 
Quinn was almost always the driver, and it was no different this time, with him leading the way on the lake and everyone else simply enjoying the ride. It wasn’t until the middle of the lake that Quinn slowed the boat, dropping the anchor before ditching his canucks tee to jump into the lake, Jack and Trevor following in suit. Luke stayed beside you, waiting for your move before making his, waiting for you to take off the clothing covering your bathing suit before he did the same, following you into the lake. 
“Lukey, you’re like a lost puppy.” His brothers played, pointing out the way he’d been following you. 
“Shut up.” 
The day had gone by quickly, setting up wakeboarding right after, watching boy after boy go. Slowly eating the fruit that had been packed until sunset, the slight breeze emitting a gentle chill. Enough of a chill to send a small shiver through your body, small enough no one would notice, but Luke. His movements quick and precise, grabbing the hoodie he wore earlier before motioning for you to stand, slipping it over your frame in one swift motion. 
“Thank you Lu.” It was barely above a whisper, but he heard, the soft smile on his face ensured he did. 
2.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me!” Trevor’s voice echoed through your phone, his annoying pestering that you had taken a job opportunity with the Devils following you to Jersey. 
Where you were now, staying in Jack’s spare room until you found your own place, 
“Trevor, would you just shut up, you play the Devils next week!” 
“But that’s a whole week without you!” His playful groans never ending, leading to you pressing end on the call without warning, ensuring a very upset message from him after. 
Soft knocking on the door grabbed your attention, turning to see Luke standing in the doorway, his tall frame leaned against the frame. His curls lay an unruly mess atop his head, yet still looked perfect. 
“Was just wondering if you wanted any help with anything? Or maybe if you’d like to get takeout with me and Jack?” his voice was always soft, like he was scared to speak too loud around you, but it was nice. 
“I’d love takeout and if you’d want, could you help me find my laptop charger? I know it’s in one bag but god knows which.” He laughed at your words, nodding before walking over. 
He moved in sync with you, checking your carry on quickly before pulling out the cord. 
“Are you serious? I swear I already looked in there!” The laugh he let out at your confession was almost angelic, catching you by surprise and causing you to pause, just listening to the tallest Hughes boy. 
“Lovebirds come get food!” Jack’s yell interrupted the peace that had followed, Luke’s hand hovering over yours as he reached to pass you the cord. 
Luke’s eyes stayed in yours, watching closely as you rolled your eyes at Jack's words, thankfully grabbing the charger from him before throwing it onto the bed. Taking Luke’s hand to lead him out of the room, ignoring the soft blush that covered his cheeks as you held his hand. 
“We are not lovebirds, Jackson.”  The older boy rolled his eyes, returning to shoving the food in his mouth quickly. 
Your hand dropped Luke’s as you sat, taking the middle of the couch, in between the brothers. Reaching for the food Jack seemed to hoard before passing it to Luke, ensuring he got the food too. 
“For not being lovebirds you sure as hell act like it.” Jack mumbled, his words muffled with food, the sound of coughing covering the space shortly after he received a hit to the back of his head from his brother. 
“Asshole!” He yelled back, leaning over your lap to reach his younger brother. 
Your movements were quick, pushing the oldest brother back to the couch, your hand on Luke’s chest as if to keep him from moving. 
“Would you quit it? You’re acting like children, just eat.” You groaned, reaching for the food that sat on the coffee table once more. 
3
“Luke! Have you seen my bag?” The yell of your voice flooded the apartment that you were only supposed to be in for a few weeks, which had turned into nearly a year of living with the brothers. 
“Is it the one hanging by the door?” His voice shot back, progressively getting louder, walking towards your room, where you stood searching for your bag for the night.
The night being one of the Devils media events that Luke deemed he was dragging you to, refusing to go without you. 
His body froze at the door, his steps faltered as he saw your figure, watching your turn and face him. His cheeks reddened, the tips of his ears turning pink at the attention, watching the way your eyes lit up at his sight. 
“You look gorgeous.” He finally mumbled, taking a step towards you, his hands moving out to hold your waist as you stepped towards him. 
“Thank you, Lu.” You grinned, looking up at the boy, letting his hands rest on your waist as yours shifted to his shoulders. 
“Come on, either make out or let’s go!” Jack’s voice cut through the moment, his frame standing in the doorway with a hand on his hip. 
“Fuck off Jack.” The words left your lips with a groan, leaning into Luke’s chest before he wrapped his arms around your body. 
Luke was quick to flip his brother off, holding your body tight against his for the moment while Jack glared, before speaking. 
“We’re coming, go start the car.” Luke urged, motioning for Jack to leave. “Let’s go, Buttercup.” Luke whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your hair, so soft it was almost missed. 
Replying with a soft kiss to his cheek, to which he turned a new shade of red from, you nodded after. Stepping back to grab your phone off the bed before following Luke out of the apartment, grabbing your bag that was hanging by the door. 
4
“Lu?” Your voice was soft, keeping it quiet in fear that the tall boy was in fact asleep. You could see his body turn in his bed at the sound of your voice, a soft groan slipping past his lips filling your body with a feeling of guilt. 
“Buttercup?” His voice was groggy, deep with sleep still as his hands moved to rub his eyes. 
“‘M sorry Lu, just wanted to make sure you were okay, I couldn’t sleep.” The confession had Luke’s heart racing, his mind wandering with the fact you were thinking about him, even if it was because he was injured. Set out for a few games with a sprained wrist and mild concussion, left more time for the youngest Hughes to spend with you.
“Come ‘ere, Buttercup.” He shifted his body, sliding up on the pillows waiting for you to slide in beside him. His arm dropping to pull you flush against him as you approached, earning a soft giggle, making a smile grow on his face. 
“Love cuddling with you, you should just stay here all the time, ‘d sleep better.” 
His words lingered with sleep, covering your cheeks in a flush as the words rolled off his tongue. Shaking your head at the youngest boy as he pulled you onto his chest, laying back down on the bed, his arms keeping you pressed against him. 
“Get out” Luke’s voice was deep with sleep as his arms held you against his body, urging his brother to leave the room. 
“There’s no way you two are only friends!” Jack’s voice full of disbelief, a wide eyed stare sent towards the bed. 
Opening your eyes slowly to watch the brothers bicker, turning your head further into the crook of Luke’s neck before groaning, speaking to jack. 
“Get out would you? Not all of us need to wake up at 5am.”
Jack rolled his eyes, turning away to walk back to his room, gathering his gear for practice. 
“He's so annoying.” Luke groaned, his hands rubbing gently along your back.
“He’s doing exactly what older brothers do.” 
5
“Lu, you’ll do amazing.” You grinned at the youngest Hughes, his hands running through his hair as he tried to ready himself for the event. 
The coaches urged him to give a speech, his body filled with nerves despite his previous speeches. 
If anyone had asked Luke what made him so nervous this time, he didn’t have an answer but he had a guess. And his guess would be the girl who stood in front of him, tying his tie while his hands lingered a little too long on her waist. 
“What if I mess up the words?” 
“No one will even notice, they’ll be too encaptured by your beauty.” You smiled, a blush covering Luke’s cheeks at the words.
“I’m serious Buttercup.”
“And so am I. Luke, you look so pretty tonight and even if you mess up, it doesn’t matter no one cares.” 
 A small smile grew on the tall boy's face, pressing a soft kiss to your hair before nodding. 
“You’re right, I’ll be fine. Wait for me beside the stage?”
“You know I will.” He grinned at the confirmation, tightening his grip on your waist before placing another kiss to the top of your head.
“Can I get a kiss for good luck?” There was a small smirk on his face as he spoke, a blush covering your face. 
“You know you don’t need it.”
“But it’d make me feel so much better.” 
“Maybe after your speech we can talk.” 
The smile never left his face, holding the conversation easily, flirting remarks made back. Even after you pushed him away, leading him out to the public for his speech, leaving him at the stage alone the smile never disappeared. 
As expected, his speech was perfect. Without missing a beat or a single mistake, Luke made it through the speed earning a standing ovation from his crowd. His movements were quick to get off stage, quick to find you waiting near the stage like you said. 
“You did so good, Lu.” 
He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, lifting you and spinning, burying his face in the crook of your neck. 
+1
The return of summer has come quickly, your first year with the devils over as you met with your boys at the lake house. 
The lights were off in the house, Quinn’s car parked out front as the two other Hughes’ pulled into the driveway. 
Your hands running through Luke’s curls to wake him, his head on your shoulder as he slept through the drive. 
“Lu, we’re here.” Your voice was soft, whispering the words to him as he groaned. 
“Was comfy.” He moaned, curling further into your body, as much as the car would allow. 
“get your ass out of my car Luke or I’ll get Quinn to throw you in the lake.” Jack’s voice interrupted, making Luke groan again before moving. 
“Asshole.” He mumbled, his body moving to slowly get out of the car, stretching as he stood outside. 
You were quick to follow, sliding out behind him before heading for the trunk of Jack’s car. Luke following a few steps behind, reaching in front of you as you opened the trunk, grabbing your bag and his from your reach. 
“Hey let me take my bag.” 
“Nope, pretty girls don’t have to do any work this summer.” The smirk on his face evident even as he turned to walk towards the house. 
You shook your head at the boy, following him inside to find the other boys. Following the noise out to the yard, the group of boys, consisting of the other Hughes’ and many of their friends, throwing a cheap football around. 
“Buttercup!” Trevor was the first to notice your presence, dropping his attention to only be hit with the ball that was thrown his way. “Asshole!” He yelled to Ethan, who threw the ball before running towards you. 
You barely had time to take a step back before his arms were around you, hoisting you into the air and spinning. 
“Trevor, put me down!” The words were interrupted with laughter, making the ducks player smile. 
“Missed you Buttercup.” He grinned, placing your feet on the ground while the other boys piled around, taking their turns hugging you. 
“Give me my girl back.” Luke spoke, returning from his trip upstairs, where he simply threw both of your suitcases in his room. 
“Oh your girl?” Trevor sassed back, his hands on his hips as he spoke. 
“Shut it.” Luke snapped back, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back from his past teammates who encircled you. 
“Luke, share with us. You have her all year.” Ethan pleaded, his hands reaching out to pull you back before promptly being smacked away by Luke. 
“Fuck off Ethan.” He had a glare on his face to suit his words, his grip tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer against his body. 
“Lu, let me see the boys for a bit, you know I’ll be with you tonight.” He let out a sigh, dropping his hold as you turned to press a kiss to his cheek before running towards the boys. 
“You finally asked her out?” Trevor asked, standing beside Luke now while they watched the others. 
“No.” 
“Sure seems like it, if you don’t soon I just might.” 
Luke moved faster than Trevor could even think, his hit promptly smacking Trevor in the nose, where he thought the older boy would dodge. Trevor’s hands covering his face as he yelled at the younger Hughes, garnering the attention of the others.
“What happened?” Quinn was the first to ask, walking over to the two, you following close behind. 
“Your brother punched me!” Trevor spoke quickly, pulling his hand away from his face to see the blood. “Asshole.” He mumbled before Quinn grabbed his face, examining the cut that covered his nose.
“It’s just a cut, you’ll be fine, go wash off.” Quinn spoke fast, shoving the Zegras boy towards the door before turning to his little brother. “The fuck were you doing?” 
A pink tinted Luke’s cheeks, staring at the ground as he brother spoke. Slowly lifting his gaze to catch your eye, where a worried look littered your face. 
“He just said something I thought he’d dodge but he didn’t.” Luke admitted, his hand running through his hair while he finally caught his brother's eyes. 
“Care to share what he said?” 
“Nope.” Luke was quick with the answer, pushing past his brother to reach you, his arms wrapping around your waist out of instinct. 
“No, hands off, why’d you punch Trevor.” A shocked look was quick to cover his face when you pushed his hands from your waist, staring at him with a look that made it clear he shouldn’t push it. 
“He said something stupid, okay? I just didn’t like it.” Luke sighed, his hands reaching out again before being smacked down by yours. 
“You can’t just punch him over it!” 
“I thought he’d duck.” Luke shrugged, scanning your gaze waiting for you to cave. 
“That doesn’t justify it! Luke, you can’t punch because he said something, what could he have even said that would justify that?” Luke’s eyes dropped at the scolding, feeling like a child again while his hands itched to hold you. 
He mumbled under his breath, admitting what Trevor had said, in such a voice no one could hear. 
“What? Luke don’t mumble.” Your voice was strict, sounding more and more like his mothers by the minute. 
“I said he was going to ask you out.” Luke’s voice sounded strained at the words, your eyes softening at the confession. “He can’t, he knows.” Luke’s voice returned to barely above a whisper, his hands running anxiously through his curls as he stared at you, waiting for a reaction. 
“What does he know?” 
“He knows I love you.” Luke swallowed after the words, letting out a sarcastic laugh after, “Hell, everyone but you seems to know.” 
“What?” There was barely time for you to slip the confusion into the conversation before Luke continued, his voice filled with anxiety. 
“I think I’ve loved you since I first saw you, but you were one of my best friends, I couldn’t ruin it. Trevor was the first to point it out, that day on the boat when you only came after I asked, Trevor dragged me aside after pestering me until I confessed. Then Quinn, then Jack and slowly everyone else had just learned. Then Trevor asked today if I finally asked you out and then he said he would if I didn’t and I didn’t even think I just swung.” Luke’s ramble being interrupted with a breath before he continued. “I don’t think I could live if you went out with him, it’d kill me. I need to be the one, please.” 
A soft look covered your face, Luke’s eyes staring into yours, pleading for something, anything. You could see the desperation in his eye, the way his hands shook at his sides, the way he looked like he’d give anything to have you. 
“Lu,” Your hands reached to cup his face, gently running your thumbs along his jawline while his hands fell to your waist. “I love you so much.” 
The smile on his face as you said the words would live engraved in your mind forever, his lips quick to meet yours in a chaste kiss that had you pulling him in for more. Your hands tangled through the curls at the nape of his neck, while his arms wrapped around your waist holding you against him. 
“Fucking finally.” A groan came from the door, snapping away from Luke to see Trevor stood in the doorway. “Only took years and almost breaking my nose.” His words tapered off, wandering back inside, earning a laugh from Luke before your hand smacked his chest. 
“Luke! Don’t laugh, go apologize.” Luke’s eyes widen at your tone, watching the glare you had as if you had forgotten about the Zegras boy until now. “Go.” 
Slowly he did, dragging you with him, he made his way into the kitchen. Where Trevor stood, an icepack to his nose while he ate strawberries Jack had cut up for the boat trip later. 
“You never learn to save food for the boat.” You scolded, seeing the shake of his head at your words. 
“I think I deserve some berries.” He mumbled, shoving more into his mouth. 
You looked up to Luke, nodding towards Trevor for the boy to speak. His gaze lingered on you, watching your eyes narrow as time passed before you lightly kicked his shin, urging him to speak. 
“”M sorry I hit you, I thought you’d duck but that’s not the point.” Luke’s apology was sad, and half-assed, but it worked. Garnering Trevors attention for him to walk over to the youngest Hughes with a smile, trapping the boy in a headlock before ruffling his hair and mumbling some words about it being okay. 
Luke was quick to leave the minute Trevor’s grip faltered, Luke pulling hard to get free before grabbing your hand and running up the stairs. 
“Lu, slow down!” The words were separated by laughter, almost falling up the stairs trying to keep up with the curly headed boy. 
Within seconds, you were in his room, his arms around your waist giving him an easy way to throw you to his bed. Landing on it with a soft thud as he followed shortly behind, immediately pulling your body to his and pressing another kiss to your lips.
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