#songfic x reader

[honeypiehotchner]

Juno (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Hello again! This goes from zero to 100 in two seconds flat don't @ me!! Sabrina's new album came out and reawakened something in me (everyone say thank you Sabrina) (also this is not beta'd I wrote this in a short n' sweet haze)

Summary: Aaron is working from home but what paperwork he needs to do is the absolute last thing on your mind.

Warnings: smut! 18+ only! this is so filthy! in no particular order: multiple orgasms, cockwarming, choking, brat tendencies, stoplight system, unprotected sex, breeding kink (briefly), face fucking, overstimulation

WC: like 3,400 I lost my damn mind clearly

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you. Blame it on period hormones (probably) or the fact that Aaron looks absolutely delicious right now in his tight black t-shirt (most likely), but you’re going to go insane if either of you have clothes on for another five minutes. 

The problem is, Aaron is trying to focus. It’s one of his days where he works from home, an idea you gave him when you realized how easy it would be for him to do the same paperwork just from the comfort of your living room. It was a brilliant idea at first. You got to see him more, and were able to do your own thing around the house while he did his work. You got to have lunch together, and offer a genuine mental break in between his mountain of paperwork. 

Now, though, you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck about whatever needs to be signed, who needs to clear what, and what phone calls he still needs to make. 

“Honey,” you call sweetly from the kitchen. You watch him from over the island, your thoughts going all sorts of ways -- namely, deep into the gutter. “Want to break for lunch?”

You see Aaron shake his head, still typing furiously on his laptop. “It’s not even noon yet.”

“Brunch?” you try again, walking out of the kitchen. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest in the way you know he loves because of the view it gives him of your cleavage. And you’re wearing a v-neck shirt today for that exact reason, too.

Aaron still doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry honey, maybe in an hour?”

You let out a huff that you know he hears because he finally looks up, eyebrows raised just so. It’s a look that you love. Curious, veering toward that playful annoyance that you can’t seem to go a few hours without his undivided attention. 

Which, you can, by the way. You’re more than capable. It’s just that right now, it’s a crime that his eyes have been looking at paperwork when they should be looking at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and there’s some hesitation in his voice. You know he’s assuming the worst. That you’re not okay mentally, and that’s why you need him to take his lunch break now or maybe for the rest of the day. He’s done it before on your darker days.

But you’re okay. You’re perfectly fine. You’d just be even better if he put the damn laptop away and put his fingers to use somewhere else.

Which is exactly why you come to a stop in front of him and reach forward, tilting his screen down and down until it closes. He lets you.

He lets you take his laptop and put it on the table beside the couch. He watches you, his fiery brown eyes taking in every second. He lets you straddle his hips, your arms circling his neck.

“I see now,” he smirks, his hands finding their rightful place on your waist and squeezing lovingly. “By ‘lunch break’ you mean…”

“Put a baby in me,” you blurt, rocking your hips against his.

He stills, his hands making you stop your movements, too. His eyes are darker now in a way you haven’t seen in a while. “What?”

“Please,” you say, leaning your forehead down onto his, trying to move your hips again. “Need you.”

“Honey, we can’t have--”

“Yes I know the semantics, Aaron,” you mutter, now annoyed and lifting your head to glare at him. He has a vasectomy, you get that. “I mean fuck me like you’re putting a baby in me.”

His hands squeeze again. “I see.”

You frown. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not,” he smirks, one hand leaving your waist to stroke your cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re horny.”

You roll your eyes, peeling yourself off his lap. He lets you go, albeit with a curious look. You turn and head for the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he calls out after you, still with that damn smirk lacing his words.

“To get myself off,” you reply in a deadpan. “Since someone--”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence before Aaron is right behind you, hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him. That look full of fire is back again, stern this time.

“Did I say you could do that?” he says in a low tone.

“Did I ask?” you retort, backing out of his grasp and darting into the bedroom. 

Now there’s a smirk on your lips. It’s quickly approaching shit-eating grin territory, which you know will only egg Aaron on further. This little game of cat and mouse happens to be your favorite, and he knows it.

You’re barely two steps into the bedroom when Aaron is attached to your back yet again, this time wrapping his arms around your waist, locking you in.

“Color?” he whispers, his lips right at your ear, sending shivers straight down your spine.

You groan. “Green. Neon green. So green, I need you to--”

He spins you again, this time backing you into the wall and attacking your lips. Finally, you think, though you know you’re in for it now. The thought has a grin crawling up your lips, and you’re unable to stop it.

“What’s so funny, hm?” he scolds, moving his lips to your neck instead, to the exact spot he knows makes you weak in the knees. Like clockwork, he has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you upright, your knees buckling when he bites down just so.

“Nothing,” you manage through a moan, tipping your head back onto the wall. “Shit.”

“You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know,” he says, but he’s smiling against your skin. “Can’t let me focus on work because you need me to fuck you.”

“In my defense,” you try, your hands scrambling for his shoulders, for something to ground you. “You didn’t fuck me this morning.”

“I fucked you last night,” he reminds you, as if you needed the reminder. It’s the reason you slept so soundly. “Was that not enough?”

You can’t help it; you laugh. 

He lifts his head, raising an eyebrow at you. The same question as before on his lips.

“Sorry, I thought you were joking,” you say. 

“You’re insatiable.” 

“Guilty,” you grin, grabbing his face and pulling him back in for another kiss.

You make out against the wall for too long like two teenagers behind the bleachers at school. You hook one leg around his hips, pulling him in and grinding against his obvious erection. It’s enough to have him groaning into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with renowned vigor. 

You can feel how wet you’re becoming and fuck, neither of you have even taken a single article of clothing off yet.

Aaron notices, one hand traveling south without you paying attention, too busy relishing the way he licks into your mouth, stealing your every breath. The kissing becomes increasingly sloppy when he works his hand into your leggings, under the waistband of your underwear, and into you.

“Oh my god,” your back arches against the wall, pushing his fingers deeper. He doesn’t bother with one, starting right away with two, curling them when you grind harder.

“You’re soaking my hand,” he practically growls into the next kiss, adding a third finger after only a few thrusts. Your body accepts it willingly, always ready for him. “Jesus.”

“More,” you gasp, pushing him deeper. “Aaron, more, I’m serious--” Your words break off as he scissors his fingers, making your eyes roll back instantly.

“I can feel you already,” he smirks against your cheek, pressing a kiss there, an action so sweet and gentle compared to what the rest of him is doing. “Come on, honey. You’re cumming as many times as you want.”

That makes you inch closer to the edge at a frightening speed. He says you can cum as many times as you want, but what he means is he’s going to force as many orgasms out of you as he can. Until you tell him to stop or he decides you need a break. 

The thought of being an overstimulated mess in his embrace later has you climaxing against his fingers, your head falling onto his shoulder as his movements never cease, milking every last wave out of you. 

You lift your head in search of his lips again, which he willingly gives to you, his fingers slowing to soothing strokes as you whimper into his mouth. You’ve only had one orgasm and you already feel ruined. He can tell the way you tremble against him, so he checks in once more.

“Green?” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You nod. “Green. You?”

He smirks. “Absolutely.”

He picks you up into his arms, inelegantly tossing you onto the bed behind you. You giggle as you bounce on the mattress, tugging your shirt over your head as he does the same to his. His hands move for his belt and you practically jump to the end of the bed, swatting his hands away.

“Since when is that your job?” you frown up at him, unbuckling his belt without looking.

He laughs, petting your head gently. “So sorry, you’re right.”

“What was that?” you tease. “I don’t think I heard you.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” you smirk, pulling his belt out of the loops and tossing it somewhere. You don’t wait for him to reply before you unbutton his jeans, yanking them down with his boxers.

There’s just something about his dick. You hate that you love it, or maybe you don’t hate it at all. All you know is you need it in your mouth right now.

So, you do that, without any warning. Aaron thrusts forward into your mouth on pure instinct, not expecting you to wrap your lips around him so soon. You slide down the edge of the bed onto your knees, pulling him back to you by his thighs. 

You take your time, pushing his jeans and boxers down further. When you pull back for air, he steps out of them and kicks them elsewhere, returning to you quickly, knowing better than to keep you waiting. 

You swallow him down again, moaning around him in the way you know he loves. It takes all of two seconds before he gently holds the back of your head, asking silently for permission that you were already about to grant. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes as you squeeze his thigh twice. Go ahead.

The thing about Aaron fucking your face is that it took a while for him to do it as hard as you really wanted. He’s always so gentle, a quality that drew you to him initially. You love how gentle he can be. But you love it equally as much when he is rougher with you.

Like now, when he has you pinned against the bed, one hand on the back of your head as he fucks into your throat. It’s blissful, quite frankly, the way he feels, and you thank the universe every time for your lack of a gag reflex. 

He holds you there with a deep groan, and you feel him twitch in your throat once before he pulls you off entirely. You frown up at him, once again not getting what you wanted, but he doesn’t have any time for that.

He picks you up by your armpits, hauling you back onto the bed. Your leggings and underwear are gone in a single second, along with your bra. He’s crawling up your body and crowding your space before you have a second to protest that he wasn’t down your throat for near as long as you wanted him to be. 

All frustrations leave your mind the second he pushes inside of you, immediately sliding home, his hips flush against yours. 

It’s a feeling you’ve grown to love, the way he hits you so deep. Another thing it took him a while to be comfortable doing.

He’s not average sized by any means, and you’re the first to admit it made you salivate the first time you saw. The first time he fed himself into you and worried that he was hurting you, meanwhile you were clawing his back because you wanted more. It hurt for a moment, only an uncomfortable pressure because he was bigger than your vibrator, but as soon as you were used to the size of him, you wanted all of him.

He stays there, deep in you without moving for a moment, grinding against you. His lips attack yours again before he pauses to lean his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath.

“You drive me crazy,” he says on a shaky exhale.

You wrap your legs around him, thrusting your hips up to take him a little more. His hips stutter, pushing in the way you wanted him to, the way you know you can make him do involuntarily.

“Fuck,” he bites out, turning his attention to your neck again.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging. “Exactly. So why aren’t you moving?”

He nips at your neck. “Because if I move, I will cum right away.”

“Who said I only want you to cum inside me once?”

He groans again, fingers digging into your hips as you circle them, though he doesn’t try to stop you. “Greedy” is all he says, but he finally moves.

The thrusts are slow at first, Aaron clearly trying to pace himself. You can’t say you’re doing the same, already chasing your second high as he slams his hips into yours. Your hand reaches down to rub your clit, but is promptly smacked away by Aaron’s hand as he glares at you.

“Since when is that your job?” he echoes you from earlier, only this time, there’s more heat to it. He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head to stop any other temptation. “Not this time.”

His thrusts pick up speed and depth, his body moving against yours in the exact way that makes you fall apart. It’s not often that he doesn’t let you cum from added clit stimulation -- not that you can’t without it; it just makes the high feel that much better -- but sometimes he does. It’s an ego trip for him as much as it is for you.

It also adds an unpredictable nature to it, which is why your second orgasm takes you by such surprise. You seize against him, your hands doing all sorts of squirming to try to break free of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you, and he doesn’t let up. You don’t realize why until you feel the warmth spreading into you as he reaches his own peak. 

You’ve clearly worked him up as much as you worked yourself up because his thrusts barely slow down, and he doesn’t soften inside of you. 

Instead, he pulls out only to flip you on your side, sliding in behind you and pulling your leg up and back over his hips. The action causes some of his cum to spill out of you, but you don’t have any time to focus on that before he fucks back into you. 

You’ve ceased to have any coherent thoughts as Aaron whispers dirty nothings into your ear, one arm wrapped around your body to keep you pinned against him. The pleasure doesn’t stop and at one point, you question if your second orgasm stopped at all or if it has continued this entire time.

Aaron reaches underneath the pillow where he knows he’ll find one of your vibrators because he heard you using it this morning. No, he didn’t fuck you this morning, but you fucked yourself, and truly, at 8am, he should’ve known you’d end up like this by eleven. 

Your mind doesn’t register what the sound means until the vibrator is pressed against your clit. Your body jerks, scrambling for some grounding, your hands finding it in wrapping them around his arm. 

He switches hands on the vibrator, so one hand is free to wrap around your throat. Your eyes roll back as soon as you feel the gentle pressure, your body practically going limp against him. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs directly into your ear, his thrusts slowing to deep strokes. “You’ve got a couple more in you.”

“A couple?” is all you manage to say, your hand squeezing his wrist so he knows to squeeze your throat a little more.

“Mhm,” his voice rumbles in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. “Is it too much?” His question is laced with just the right amount of pity that makes you shake your head against him. “I thought so,” he replies, switching the vibrator to a higher setting.

It sends you into your third orgasm instantly, squirming violently against him as he pushes into you deeper. He knows how much you love that, and loves how much you squeeze around him as he slides inside, fighting against your muscles that threaten to force him out. You’ve done it before, a mesmerized look on his face and yours when you both realized what happened. Since then, you told him you liked it more when he fought to stay inside. 

He takes the vibrator away as you calm down, his hips also pausing, keeping himself deep inside you. The pressure is soothing, and you take a moment to take a deep breath. His palm falls away from your throat, instead propping underneath your cheek.

It takes a few seconds before you feel yourself spasming around him. He chuckles against your back, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Still?”

You nod dumbly, rocking your hips again. “Yeah. I don’t know, I just-- Need more.”

“I’ve got you,” he soothes, pulling out again to roll you onto your stomach instead, one of your favorite positions.

You’re floating as you settle into the pillows, letting Aaron manhandle you wherever you need to be. You groan in your happy, blissed out state as he slides home again, draping himself over your back.

He is gentler now, knowing that’s exactly what you need at this point. The last orgasm he pulls from you is just as gentle, and he pushes deeper into you, letting you ride it out. 

He pulls your hips up and thrusts once, twice before he’s spilling into you. You didn’t realize he was that close again. The warmth is soothing this time as it spreads through you. 

Aaron leaves you only to settle behind you, spooning you once again. Your hand reaches behind you to find him, and he catches your wrist. 

“You need to rest,” he chides softly.

“I know,” you whimper. “Need you inside me.”

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck as he slides in again, still half-hard, but it’s enough. You settle down as soon as the weight of him is tucked inside you again. “Better?”

“Mhm,” you sleepily nod, pushing back into him so he holds you tighter. “Do you have to go back to work?”

He chuckles against you, sighing. “No, I’m done for the day, I think,” he says. “I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”

That makes you laugh. “We need a better excuse.”

“Or I need to go back to working in the office.”

You roll your eyes. “Like that’ll make a difference.”

He shakes his head, his mind remembering the same memories that you are. The many lunch hours when you went to eat with him, and ended up with your back pressed into the couch, his tie stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Go to sleep,” he says, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’ll make us lunch when we wake up.”

“Perfect,” you smile, nuzzling into him. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” he says, pressing little kisses to your neck and cheeks, wherever he can reach. “Now sleep.”

You’re already halfway there. The combination of him nestled inside of you and the post-orgasm exhaustion is enough to lull you into a restful sleep.

[k2ntoss]

I need more baby daddy Jason. Maybe sitting at the park watching him with ur kids and hearing the other moms ogling over him

yall dangerously feeding my brain rot and it's giving me a baby fever i do not wish to feed !!!!!!!!!!! but whoever says baby daddy jason you have my heart rn bc i adore that man!!!!!!!!!!!

by the end of the week it was already time for your kids to go out and have a pretty day at the park, jason had been really busy lately so you took the stroller and placed your babygirl on it before calling your boy, living copy of jason when he was a kid and you couldn't want it any other way because both of your babies had those pretty emerald eyes you so adored.

the way to the park was easy, those two kids had a way to be pretty little angels when it came to go out to the park and you loved that because jason would usually catch up with you sometimes when the work was too much and today was one of those days. your little boy was six and your little girl four, which made it a bit hard to have him playing around and keeping an eye on your babygirl but as soon as jason joined you it was time for the girl to also leave your arms.

jason has been an amazing dad, always making sure his kids and girl were just fine, that they had everything they could ever need and want and it was easy to see in the way the little girl giggles loudly when he sweeps her out of your arms and walks to the playground while you sit, keeping an eye on your son and it's easy to hear the small group of moms muttering and giggling close to where you're sitting.

"do you think he's single? maybe divorced... he just came and picked up the girl from her arms" one of the women says and you roll your eyes because you know how damn well jason looks and how easy it is for him to trigger a baby fever in anyone but the small pang of possessiveness and jealousy that stirs in your chest is there.

"he didn't kissed her, i bet she is the kids' mom but they're not together... i should try and get his number," oh, over your damn dead body anyone would even dare to try and getting jason's number but you know better so you sit, looking at your family with a fond smile because now your two kids are held by jason.

you look at him and you can tell he's been working out more recently because he seems fitter, a little less of that dad body he had gotten since your second child was born and you loved how he looked, broad and muscly but there was a little tummy that only made you drool even more for the father of your kids.

you had to endure the comments and ogling from that group of moms for at least half an hour until you decided you had enough. walking over the place where jason was playing with the kids you stood close, looking at him with a smile when he lifted his head to glance at you and the glint on his eyes made you heart flutter, he picked up the kids on his arms and strode towards you with the widest smile ever amd without saying anything else he leaned in to press a tender kiss on your lips.

"hey there, ma," he whispered still close to your face "i missed you..." the words never fail to make your whole body shudder as you stand in front of the love of your life because that's what jason was, flaws and everything he was everything you could ever want.

"missed you too, jaybird... mind if we take the kids for ice cream?" you ask with a soft tone and it's easy for him to notice what's going on when you don't even pull away but stand even closer while looking up at him like a lovestruck teen again.

that's when jason gently places your girl in the stroller and wraps his free arm around your waist before he peppers a few kisses on your neck earning a chuckle from you and a soft 'yuck' from your boy's lips.

"daddy! stop kissing mommy! let's go for ice cream" and the childish protest makes jason smirk, knowing now he had yet to deal with a whole bunch of spoiled babies instead of just you but he wouldn't have it any other way and like that, with his arm still around your waist jason makes the way to get ice cream and you can satisfiedly feel the disappointment in the group of moms that were shamelessly planing to hit on jason.

[writersblockiskillingme]

Peace | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader (fem!District12!Baird!reader)

Summary: Coriolanus Snow never thought that he would find peace, until he did.

Warning/s: Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, talk about death (reader is alive, don't worry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Inspired by one and only Taylor Swift.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly the summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

Coriolanus Snow could swear that the rustling of the grass beneath his shoes couldn't be louder as he walked in the Meadow.

However, even though he felt an odd irritation towards that, he felt good. He was finally able to get rid of his Peacekeeper white uniform which he replaced with a simple white shirt and some gray pants that he found. His dog tag was still hanging from around his neck. He forgot to take it off from all of the haste when he was trying to find you as fast as he possibly could once his shift ended for the day.

The wind was dancing gracefully across the leaves on the trees surrounding the always oh so peaceful Meadow just a little outside of the border of District 12.

District 12.

Coriolanus Snow was still a little bit doubtful when it came to the loser District.

He could remember his hated towards, well, everyone and everything when he found out that he was going to be deported for the Peacekeepers. He could still remember that empty feeling when he sat at, what seemed like, the most uncomfortable chair in the world as someone started to cut his blonde locks away.

He lost everything. Every hope for the better.

That is up until it was reported to him that he could chose any District in all of the Panem that he wished.

Coriolanus could've been deported to a nice, clean District like 1 or 2. Yet he chose the poorest District of all. The words "District 12" left his mouth without the second thought when the authorities asked him where he wanted to be deported. He didn't even speare one single thought as he said it.

He asked himself, why did he do it? The question wouldn't leave his mind. It haunted him every day. It clouded his ever racing mind.

Why did he do it?

Yet now, he finally spotted a figure sitting on a giant rock, playing the guitar while muttering the words as she tried to write yet another masterpiece that he was going to cherish forever.

Your hair was flowing around in the wind as your fingers graced the strings of your guitar that Coriolanus got for you from the Capitol.

He tried to stay as quiet as he possibly could. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want you to stop singing so he froze once he got close enough so he could listen to you for a bit.

Even the mockingjays on the trees seemed to quiet down as you played the guitar. They were soaking up every melody, every note that you decided to grace the word with.

"And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me"

Your melodic voice rang around the Meadow. So quiet yet so powerful. Graced with softness and pure care. He didn't deserve you. He knew that.

Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that truly mattered was the fact that you were alive.

Every doubt he had racing, cursing, his mind vanished forevermore as he listened to you sing and play your guitar, when he saw you performing with the rest of the Covey, your family, the night after he got deported to 12.

Right now, nothing was more important to him than you. He didn't care about his deportation, about Dr. Gaul, about Highbottom.

Maybe he was clueless. Maybe it was his fault for letting himself feel vulnerable in this very moment in the Meadow outside of 12. Or maybe he was just young and dumb for finally letting his guard down... but he felt like there was hope for him at last. Because you were here. You were alive, and if he had to mess up his reputation and lose everything once more just so he could here the sweetest of melodies leaving your lips he was sure that he would do it.

"No, I could never give you peace"

But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade ocean wave blues come

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Coriolanus felt himself freeze completely.

His brain nor his body was working anymore as he watched the screen along with the rest of his classmates that were chosen to be mentors for this year's tributes in the Hunger Games.

The scene was tough to watch. He wanted to look away yet he found himself unable to do so.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rip his eyes away from the screen that showed reaping the tribute he was supposed to mentor.

A girl from District 12.

He felt uneasy the moment he found out who he was supposed to be mentoring, he felt like his hope was lost. His hope for winning the Plinth Prize and repearing his reputation was ruined. He was ruined.

But now, as he watched you step in after your name was called out, he felt unfamiliar feeling of pure warmth growing and spreading in his chest, consuming him completely. The feeling was unknown, it made him feel weak. Out of control. He hated it.

Yet, as Coriolanus watched your hair bounce as you stepped out of the crowd in the middle of the square, he felt like he would fight the devil himself just so he could make sure that you were safe, that you were going to get out of the arena alive.

He watched your expression and your posture. You were trying to appear as calm and unbothered as possible. You were successful in your attempt, but he saw right through it.

Perhaps it was because he found himself in the similar position as he watched you or perhaps he simply observed a bit too closely.

Whatever it was, it did not prepare Coriolanus Snow for what was about to happen.

°

Why am I here? What am I doing?

These are the questions Coriolanus asked himself as he unintentionally, yet at the same time quite intentionally, tried to seek some warmth from his red Academy's uniform in his pathetic attempts to warm himself up a bit in the middle of a very cold night on his way over to the zoo where you were forced to stay before the games started.

The food wrapped in a handkerchief that had his father's initials on it started to feel too heavy in the pocket of his uniform.

Feeling the cold shiver run down his spine he realized that it's not from cold or from the fear of the Peacekeepers blocking his way over to you in the middle of the night. No. It was something else. Something he was aware of, but couldn't yet admit it to himself.

He watched every step he took so as to not startle you in the cage of the zoo.

As he got closer, he realized that he saw a figure in the dark leaned against the bars of the zoo's cage.

It was you, of course. You were looking up at the sky as your hair slightly flew around in the light, cold night's breeze.

At first he thought that his plan to play star-crossed lovers was a dumb call. That it was bad. Mentor falling desperately, hopelessly in love with his tribute was just madness and quite a desperate attempt to draw some good public's attention to give you a shot at surviving in the arena was quite pitiful, truly. Where was his head at, at that moment? Who would ever fall for that nonsense?

But as he saw how the people thrived for a tragic pair of star-crossed lovers and as he realized that good citizens of the Capitol loved a good tragic story, he came to a conclusion that maybe all of this was actually worth it.

More importantly, as he called out your name quietly as to not startle you and alert other tributes he figured that it was a right call after all.

Especially when, even tho a part of him didn't want to, as he came over to you on the other side of the bars, gave you food that he smuggled from the Academy, wiped your long lost tear as it streamed down your beautiful cheek, as he soked in your beauty, admired your gentil kindness and finally as he kissed you like he needs you more than an oxygen that he has to breath over the empty space in the middle of the bars, he wasn't really pretending after all.

Yet when it was time for him to go home just so his absence doesn't go noticed by grandma'am and Tigris, he asked you one thing that was bothering him, eating him alive. One thing that caused him absolute despair from the moment he met you.

"Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" He whispered in the darkness as he held his hand against your cheek like you were the most delicate rose.

Your integrity makes me seem small

You paint dreamscapes on the wall

I talk shit with my friends

It's like I'm wasting your honor

Coriolanus Snow was hurrying towars the room in the Capitol's Academy in which he will be able to monitor the games along with some of his classmates.

He had to stay at home to help his grandma'am much longer than the would've liked. He was in such a hurry that once he got to the door he literally pushed it open with full force.

He strolled down effortlessly over to his chair so he could look over you as he heard the voice of one and only Lucky Flickerman.

"Now that is an entrance I'm jealous of."

Coriolanus ignored him.

He sat down next to Sejanus Plinth as he reasted his head on his hand as soon as he did that, the look of pure stress overflow his features as his piercing blue eyes locked themselves on the screen watching you.

"I may be wrong." He heard the voice of Sejanus Plinth as he stared at the screen, not looking away. "But it seems to me that you actually, genuinely care about whether or not she makes it out alive."

Coriolanus felt himself freeze for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to gain his composure back.

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me, Coryo."

He kept his mouth shut after that.

And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Give you my wild, give you a child

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

Is it enough?

Coriolanus Snow could still remember the feeling of slight cold breeze as he hoped off of the train in 12 for the first time ever.

His boots stepped right into mud and he closed his eyes for a moment in slight annoyance. What an amazing way to alive here and do the things he was ordered to do.

He gripped more tightly just in hope to gain more confidence that he could actually pull through with this.

He stepped forward, letting out a puf of breath to steady himself.

Just as he was about to step after the rest of the new recruits as the one who is last in line he heard something that he hoped he would hear again. A voice which belonged to the person for whom he decided to go to the poorest District, paying the last bit of money he owned.

"Coryo!" Your voice shouted and he turned around slowly, almost not believing that you're here.

You ran as fast as you could just to get to him as fast as possible.

Your hair was flying around as your ran, the back of your dress dragging itself after you. The lightness of your steps, the graceful way you carried yourself, your eyes, your lips, you.

You collided against him, throwing your hands around his neck as you gripped on his shoulders as tightly as you possibly could, afraid that he will disappear from your grasp once again.

You looked so out of place. You were like a finest, most beautiful rose of all, but that rose grew in the middle of the mud. It fascinated him.

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, gripping your body strongly yet at the same time gently as he brought you to his body even closer. You felt like if he pulled you any closer the two of you would become one person.

He hid his face into your neck, breathing in your flowery scent. It smelled like home. Home which he was forcefully ripped away from, but now he was finally able to return.

"How did you-? What-?" He stuttered, couldn't get the words out.

"Tigris told me you were about to become a Peacekeeper." You got out, still holding onto his arm, your gripp still tight, afraid of losing him again. "However, Sejanus told me that you would arrive to 12."

This took him a back a little.

"You spoke with Tigris?" He asked, his voice not hiding his utter, but non the less happy, shock.

"We wrote to each other." You answered with a smile. "She's amazing, truly."

He couldn't be happier at this moment, he was so happy that it scared him.

But maybe, as he watched your smile and took your hand into his, pressing your palms against each other, he realized that just maybe life in the poorest District won't be as bad as he was afraid.

But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west

I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best

But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

One thing was for sure, life after the games was not easy.

You would have nightmares. He didn't know about them, you wouldn't told him. That is up until the rest of your family met up with him on a picnic day.

You looked so tired, so pale, you weren't acting like your usual self. It scared him.

That's when Lucy Gray pulled him aside after she saw his worried gaze on you the entire day. What she told him ripped his heart and shattered every piece.

"She's screaming at night." Lucy Gray whispered just so you wouldn't catch them, not that you could, you were so tired you were barely awake. "She has nightmares about the arena."

When he later on confronted you about your nightmares just so he could help you somehow you broke down.

You told him that maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be with her. You were sad a lot more often, the screaming because of nightmares and everything else haunted you.

Before you could say anything else, tho. He kissed you like he would die without you.

"You're safe with me." He mumbled against your lips. "We can have a future here together, that is if you will have me."

"Of course I will Coryo, but-"

"No but's, then, my love." He told you, taking the handkerchief out of nowhere as he wiped away your tears that continued to stream down your face.

"Here, away from every harm, away from the games... maybe I could finally give you peace."

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[since-im-already-here]

new rules - dua lipa

don’t pick up the phone, you know he’s only calling cause he’s drunk and alone

- Shanks, Zoro, Law

don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again

- Buggy, Sanji, Corazon/Rosi

don’t be his friend, you know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning

- Luffy, Ace, Sabo

If youre under him your not getting over him

- Crocodile, Mihawk, Doflamingo

~~~~~~~~~

i will not be elaborating further

@fanaticsnail @sordidmusings

[in-som-niyah]

"No, none of that baby. Let me see that pretty pussy of mine."

in which you catch Jason mingling with a girl you think is prettier at a gala, and he reminds you who he belongs to with his face between your thighs...

The night is young and alive. In the four walls of bruce's charity gala, there was expensive champagne, rich people music and gorgeous women.

You were advised, no instructed to come with Jason to his father's galas for a while now. The scene was nothing new.

Bruce would throw millions at a gala for a bunch of rich people 4 times a year to keep himself in their good graces. You would stand in the corner and watch people pretend to like each other with wide smiles and chaste hugs.

Secretly, you hated these events. Well, Jason knew you would rather stay home, but he thought it was because you just find them boring.

He could't be more wrong.

As you claimed your usual spot with your back to the wall in a corner, you watched the skinny, blond-haired girls in their tastefully fitted dresses garner the spotlight of the event. The way they batted their blue eyes up at a mesmerized man was the 8th wonder of the world. They were so effortless in their seduction, so enamouring in their figure.

So stunning.

It wasn't that you weren't pretty, no, it was that you were sorely out of place.

And Jason had no Idea.

How could he, when he stood at six foot something, broad shoulders and a physique to die for. Lush green eyes and prominent yet soft features.

And Gods above, his smile.

Any girl would have won the lottery if she saw his genuine smile.

It was no secret that you didn't match him, not at all.

It is in these moments that you begin to question your relationship. If these are the kinds of women he is surrounded with, why the fuck was he with you?

You scoffed and took a swig of your Champagne as you watched yet another girl wave to him.

Presently, he was doing his job, talking with investors and other important people in Gotham.

He was talking to some high up CEO when a gorgeous girl bumped into his side. He turned around to meet her embarrassed gaze.

Though you were out of earshot, you could make out her flustered apologies and Jason's attempts at reassurance. Out of courtesy, he asked for her name or other surface info and the two seemed to get to talking. She was blabbering on about who she was and what she does for a living and she made a joke. And Jason Laughed.

He laughed. Fully and genuinely. He laughed.

Then so did she, sparkling blue eyes looking up at him once again as they laughed over something you couldn't find funny. You would never find this funny.

Soon enough, the lights dimmed and Bruce called the attention of the crowd to welcome them and thank them for their attendance. His list of thanks and acknowledgements went on as normal.

"...And I'm so glad my son Jason found a friend at these so-called 'boring' events he hates going to." Bruce joked.

The crowd laughed.

But so did Jason.

You took this as your opportunity to leave, slamming your champagne flute down on a nearby table and making a swift exit.

Hot tears threatened to burn rivers down your face as your legs carried you out of the venue as quickly as they could. You found an elevator, and decided to take it up to Jason's bedroom.

Once on the correct floor, the floodgates opened and you began to sob.

You flung open the door to his bedroom and slammed it shut. You took off your expensive heels and pelted them across the tidy room. Everything reminded you of him; the portraits on the wall, his diplomas, old weapons, even the faint scent of him.

This was something you could no longer take. You were so tired of feeling inadequate, silently counting down the days until he found someone better than you. In your mind, that day had come and though it had been in the back of you mind for as long as you were with him, you were damn unprepared.

You undid the zipper on your dress and flung it off your body. Jason picked out this dress for you when he mentioned that he wanted you to come to this last gala with him. You painfully recall how happy and excited you were to be able to wear a dress in his colour that he picked out for you.

How foolish.

Your sobs grew stronger as you began to think that your relationship should have never happened, seeing that he would have found someone prettier, skinnier, funnier smarter-

Knock

Knock

Knock

"Y/N?"

Jason was at the door to his room. Growing bored with the festivities below, he wanted to find you and go back to your place. When he couldn't find you in the crowd, he went up to his room to check something. It was then that he heard your heavy sobs coming from behind his door and panic filled his system.

You stopped crying immediately and moved to dry your tears that have surely ruined your makeup by now.

"Yeah baby. J-just give me a second." you blurted in an unconvincing tone.

He couldn't know how distraught you were about something so trivial. It wasn't his fault that he was so hot, and it wasn't yours that you thought you weren't. There was nobody to blame for your insecurities, and you didn't need him to know how terrible you felt because of your own self-inflicted wounds.

"Can I come in?" He pried gently.

You appreciated his courtesy of asking if he could enter his own room. You scrambled to find a shirt of his to cover yourself with. There was no need for the added anxiety of what you thought you looked like right now. Your heels still splayed across the room and dress slumped against his armchair.

"Sure." you let out with a defeated sigh.

The audible twist and click of the doorknob filled the quiet space. Jason's brow was pinched with worry as the door swung open to reveal you, sitting on his bed in his shirt, in pretty bad shape.

He closed the door and locked it behind him, something you appreciated, and took off his jacket. He made his way to the edge of the bed and sat on the mattress with his back to the edge, facing you.

His soft gaze took in your state, and his shoulders slumped because he didn't like what he saw. He hated seeing you sad, it broke his heart into a million little pieces.

Jason reached out his hand for you to take, but you curled in on yourself and inched further away from him. You were still overwhelmed with your thoughts of his hands all over someone elses' body.

You wanted to vomit.

"Can you look at me, Y/N?" Jason asks cautiously. He doesn't know what you're thinking, and the last thing he wants to do is scare you.

The tears came back and you struggled to keep them at bay.

"C-Can't" your strained voice came through gritted teeth.

"Oh come here pretty girl" he cooed.

You resolve was gone and you moved to throw yourself in his arms.

Jason's strong arms came to wrap around your back, one hand on the back of your head and the other around your abdomen.

Your hands grabbed at his ironed dress shirt. Usually you were courteous, but now you were too hurt to care. Makeup, snot, tears and other fluids rubbed into his clothes as you broke down in his arms.

You were grateful he didn't say anything about his ruined shirt as his hand rubbed up and down your back.

Jason's mind was racing, searching all corners of his brain to figure out what would make you this upset so quickly.

Your sobs began to slow but your breathing remained erratic. There was too much and not enough air at the same time. Jason stepped in quickly to make sure you didn't pass out.

"Hey hey hey slow down baby girl. Follow my breaths alright? In. Out. Keep going sugar. In. Out. Atta girl"

As you breathed with him, you felt calmer, but the guilt of him having to deal with your outburst began to gnaw at you.

You lifted your head from his shoulder and broke out of his embrace. He studies your state, which was much better now, but stayed quiet.

"I-I'm sorr-"

"Absolutely not." Jason sharply interrupted your attempt to apologize

"There is nothing for you to be sorry for sweetheart."

You could tell he was searching your face for any kind of acknowledgement, but you couldn't look at him.

"Look at me baby. Please?" he whispers as his hands roam up your neck to cup your cheeks.

You shook your head no.

Jason tries again, pressing his forehead to yours, looking at your tightly closed eyes.

"You're breaking my heart pretty girl. Please? For me?" he whispers so softly.

Deciding to obey, you look up at him. A single tear escapes your eye as you stare into his worried green ones.

"None of that anymore sugar" he reassures as his thumb wipes away the tear.

You nod in agreement.

Jason and you stay close with your forheads on each others for a while, basking in the intimacy of it all.

He breaks the silence.

"Talk to me love. What happened hm?" he asks, his breath dancing on your lips.

You take a deep breath

"What got my girl so upset?"

Truthfully, you had no idea how to start. How to tell him you've been feeling like a horrible girlfriend since you've been having darker thoughts about your appearance. How can you tell Jason, whose only fault was loving you, that you feel inadequate in his presence. That you feel that it is only a matter of time until he finds someone prettier, skinnier, smarter-

"Baby?"

His inquiry pulls you out of your head.

"It's stupid." You respond in a small voice.

"No. Not if it made you feel this way."

You drop your head again in shame. You don't deserve this kindness after you just questioned his intentions with you.

"But it has nothing to do with you" you mumble.

"It has everything to do with me because I love you. And I cant stand to see you so hurt over something I don't know about or help you with." He countered.

"But-" your voice begins to shake once more

He sneaks his index finger underneath your chin and lifts, giving you no choice but to look at him.

"But nothing." he shuts you down simply.

Jason kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then your nose, making you giggle.

"There's my girl" he mumbles to no one in particular.

His face lines up with yours once again. This time, it is you who moves closer to capture his lips in yours. It was a soft and passionate kiss, a silent thanks for his patience with you.

Jason broke the kiss before you could and smoothed a braid from out of your face.

"Can you tell me why you're upset? You don't have to if you don't want-"

"I want to." You interrupted him.

After a long period of explaining your feelings with a few more stray tears, you both came to an understanding of how the situation came to be. Jason told you how much he loves you, and that nobody with a smaller figure or more socially "beautiful" than you could take him away from you. You were his girl; his to love, his to smile at, his to laugh with, his to touch, his to feel, his to caress-

His lips were now on yours. He kissed you with a fever of determination, a thousand feelings infused into the union of your lips.

His hands began to roam your body. Up your back and down to your hips. You know he loves seeing you in his clothes.

As the kiss deepens and both of your hands are all over eachother. Your hand roams down his front to find his bulge. He stops you abruptly, and you raise you head to look at him questioningly.

"Are you sure?" Jason whispers.

You chuckle at the question.

"Yes, of course" you answer incredulously.

At that, your hand made its way down again and was stopped once more.

"I want tonight to be about you, princess. Let me prove how much I love you."

You shot him a questioning look.

He smirked.

You have no idea what's coming He thought.

With his hands on your waist, he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He hiked up your (his) shirt to reveal your pretty tits.

Jason pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck, shoulders and chest. A hand came up to massage your breast and play with your nipple. His actions earned a moan from you, which only spurred him on in his antics.

"So beautiful" he murmured into your skin.

He continued down your body, only stopping to catch a glimpse of your head thrown back in painful anticipation.

Once he made his way down to your underwear he kneaded the flesh of your thighs and pressed kisses on the inside of each one.

"Gorgeous" he breathed between kisses

"Can I take these off?" He asks

You nod your head yes, but this is not sufficient for him.

"Need words pretty girl" Jason presses.

You let out a breathy yes and he begins to pull down your panties.

They were his favourite colour, Red.

"No other girl could wear my colour and be a sexy as you are. Understand?"

"Yes" you moan as his hands are at your feet, tossing your panties and rubbing your ankles.

At the cool breeze in the air, you snap your thighs together, unfamiliar with the change in temperature on your heat.

"No, none of that baby. Let me see that pretty pussy of mine."

You swear you could have cum at that statement alone.

Jason takes matters into his own hands as he gently and slowly pries your legs open, while maintaining eye contact to make sure you're still okay with what's going on.

Before he makes his descent, he lifts you slightly to move you further up the bed. A swift hand pulls a pillow and places it under your hips.

Clearly, he meant business.

Before your nerves had a chance to ruin the moment, Jason cuts the tension by turning to your inner thighs, leaving little bites and dark marks.

Without warning, he dives right in, relieving your sopping cunt of its misery.

The flat of his tongue drags up your soaking pussy, eliciting a surprised moan from you.

He continues with his affirmations.

"Nobody's pussy is a perfect as this one right here, yeah?"

You moan out at the praise.

"Need words baby or I'll stop"

"Y-Yes Jason!" you gasp as your hands desperately grip his sheets for relief. His tongue dancing with the devil on your soaked folds.

Briefly, he rises from between your legs and a scene of his saliva and your essence coats his lips and chin. His lips, now puffy, curl into a smirk.

"Now repeat after me. You make a mistake and I'll stop. Understood?" he continued.

"Fuck- Yes, I understand"

"There's my good girl" He affirms.

He goes back down with fervor this time. Jason's tongue wasted no time before lapping up what ended up on your thighs and circling your clit.

He begins. "There is no girl more perfect for Jason than me"

God he's good.

"T-There is- shit no girl- oh" You start, interrupted by his lips sucking on your clit.

"M-More perfect- ugh for J-Jason than me" You finish, proud that you were able to complete your first sentence.

Your success earned a proud "atta girl" from Jason as he continued his mission on your folds.

"There is no woman on this planet prettier than me" He started again, before his tongue resumed his actions.

This one was a challenge. Between his tongue and the suction of his lips, your orgasm was approaching quickly.

"There i-is no shit woman- fuck Jason I'm gonna-" you spit our frantically.

"Not yet. Finish the sentence first. You're almost there." He says as he raises his head from between your legs.

You let out a desperate whine at the sudden lack of stimulation and pushed your hips up against nothing. A strong forearm came to stop you, which your desperate state didn't appreciate.

You are left no choice but to continue.

"on this planted p-prettier than me." You finish.

Before you could beg, he was already there, hot breath ghosting over your need.

"Last one pretty girl. You can do it." Jason whispers. He moves his unused hand to interlock with one of yours that was previously gripping the bedding for dear life.

"Ready?" He asks

You nod weakly, followed by a whiny yes, knowing that only words will get you what you want.

"I am the only woman Jason has ever loved" He speaks over your heat.

You swore you came instantly.

Jason's heavenly mouth got to work again, leaving you a panting, mewling mess on his dark sheets. You were sure there was a puddle where his mouth met your cunt, and lewd, wet sounds filled the room.

Desperately needing your release, there was only one way to get it.

"I am t-the only fuck-" You were stopped by a particularly intense suck on your clit.

Jason's hand squeezed yours in encouragement. A silent "you can do this sugar" was mumbled over your pussy.

"Woman Jason ha-has ever- Ohh I'm so close Jay pleasepleaseplease". Your attempted recitation died with a desperate babble of his name.

His hand squeezed yours tightly, encouraging you once again to continue.

The tight coil in your tummy grew stronger and harder to ignore as Jason picked up the pace between your legs. It was as if he was a starving man, craving only one thing and finally receiving it.

"L-LOVED" You screamed as your release washed over you. Your eyes rolled and your back arched at the sudden sensation. Every nerve in your body was lit ablaze, burning so sweetly as he continued to lap at you through your high.

Nothing but, white-hot bliss filled each of your senses. You were so lost in your own pleasure, it almost hurt to come back down to earth.

When you opened your eyes again, you were met with a panting and disheveled Jason, juices all over his chin, and sweat down his brow. His collared dress shirt was unbuttoned and sinfully wrinkled. You couldn't help but marvel at his beauty in such an unkempt state.

Slowly, he began to remove the pillow from under you and pull your shirt down over your body. You hissed at the fabric dragging across your still-sensitive nipples, for which he apologized with a kiss on your nose.

Aligning his face with yours, he looked deep into your eyes and used his free hand to thumb away the tears of overstimulation on your cheeks.

"Don't you ever feel like you're not worthy of me again without telling me okay?" he remarks as he gives you a small, kind smile.

You nod, and he doesn't press you about it this time.

"I'll repeat this as many times as I need to sunshine, no questions asked."

He continued.

"I love you."

[swiftiewillwrite]

how you get the girl

jason todd x reader

fanart by @twalxx (found on pinterest)

pairing - jason todd x reader

warnings - smut! starts angsty, fluff and smut later :))

a/n - this is my first smut, but i had like all of my friends proof read so im super excited to share this with yall! songfic based on how you get the girl by taylor swift (and a bit of i wish you would)

Things had ended with Jason, but it hadn't had the desired effect.

It was just too painful when you were together, the not knowing. Not knowing if he was safe every night. Not knowing if you were safe. You were scared constantly, just never knowing. All you wanted was for him to be safe.

—

You realized you couldn't do it anymore when he went no contact for two days.

You had thought he was dead. You were pacing your townhouse nonstop, music following suit. Trying to drown out the silence and your thoughts. You plopped onto the couch, picturing every other time this had happened in your mind. The pain you felt every night, that worsened every time another hour went by. So you made your decision.

When he finally came home that night, ready to run into your arms, you closed them. and you fought. The front door opened and shut and all the built-up anger from two years of sleepless nights and not letting yourself be selfish flooded out of you.

“What the hell, Jason? Are you okay? I thought you were dead, you asshole!”

The tone in your voice shocked him, you could see it in his eyes. “What?”

Your tears were threatening to spill from your already red eyes, but you didn't let that stop you. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek. “I'm sorry, it's just-, I can't do this! Every week, I have to grapple with the fact that you could be dead! And what if you were? You can't come back every time you die, you know that!”

“What- what do you want me to do? There are always going to be people getting hurt, you know that.”

“Exactly. And I will never come first. You’re just too fucking good a person, Jason. you never let yourself be selfish! I wanted you to put us first.” You look at him; “Just go.”

“Is this for real?” And now tears were welling up in his eyes. “This was all so fast.”

“This was the opposite of fast. I just tried not to see it. Because I love you so, so, much Jason, that's why I can't do this. Just- send one of your siblings to get your stuff tomorrow.”

He pauses. “Okay, Doll, if this is what you want, I will go.”

“Don't call me that, you're gonna make this too hard,” You hear yourself let out an embarrassing snort through your snot and tears.

“Then can I kiss you goodbye, instead?”

Already sobbing, you nod.

—

And now you can't get him out of your head. It's been six months, and he won’t get out. Every time you see lights through your window coming from the street, you think maybe. Maybe he came home to you.

And you just hope that when he's out every night, saving more damsels, he thinks about your home in the center of the city.

Every night you prayed that he would come back. And say that he wants you, no matter what. Even if it was you who broke his heart, because you also broke your own. You wished for it like it was the only thing that kept you going, because it was.

But you never really believed your wish would come true. You had already burnt that bridge. And in doing so, burned away your past. Your friendships with the Waynes, every late night spent tending wounds.

2 A.M. another late night, doing anything you could to get your mind off of him. Especially tonight. The twenty-seventh of April. For the past two years, on this day, Jason had been in your bed. You held him, and told him he was safe. Safe from what happened to him on this day, years before you were able to take care of him. Your bed was empty, and it killed you to know he was probably in his own, having the nightmares you worked so hard to keep him safe from.

2 A.M. A rough and fast knock against your front door cuts through the sound of the pouring rain, and you find yourself looking through the peephole of your townhouse. Eye level with you is Jason Todd, curly hair soaked. You could see his breath in the cold, and how little his unzipped leather jacket was doing to keep him warm. You pull the door open.

“Are you insane?”

“I know, I just- I need you. Sweetheart, I need you back. God, it's been a long six months. I know, I fucked you up, i fucked us up, and that is reason enough for you to slam the door in my face, but..” he trailed off and made eye contact with you; “I will make it up to you. I just need you tonight. You know what tonight is, I know that you didn't forget,” He was pleading, eyebrows furrowed and tears welling in his eyes. “I can't get through tonight without you,”

And before you can process it, you're leaning in and your lips are on his again, and it feels like home. They're soft against you and feel the same as they did the last time you touched six months ago, if just more desperate. He wraps his arms around your back, embracing you tightly. You pull away for a quick second just to say: “Come in, stay the night. I missed you too. We can talk this through in the morning.”

He enters the home that had missed him so much, and you close the door behind him as fast as you can. He dives back for your lips, like a man who had been lost in the desert finally getting water. It was passionate, and for a moment made you forget that you had waited for so long. It just felt like before, and for the meantime would put a band-aid over the months of pain. You kissed him through the hallway, pushing him back to your room, and somewhere along the way, he lost his jacket. When you got to the bedroom, you shoved him against the door, biting his lips and letting yourself absolutely lose control on his mouth. When you pulled away, you could see that it was swollen and redder than when you had started.

You slowly moved down his neck, starting with a hickey on his jaw in a spot that you knew was his favorite place. He breathed out your name, giving you motivation to move down and kiss his adams apple. “Jesus, doll,”

You spread out, leaving marks all over his neck. The closer you got to his collarbone, the more vocal he was, letting out a dozen sickly-sweet nicknames for you. You start to make another bruise on his neck, but he squeaks out a “stop,”

You pull back. “Is something wrong?” for a moment fear creeps into your mind, and you remember. You haven't seen him in months, what if this is too much? This is the anniversary of his death, for god's sake-

“Can we move to the bed?”

Oh.

“Yeah, if you're ready-” you cut yourself off when Jay removes his shirt as youre speaking, revealing a tapestry of scars. A breath catches in your throat. Shit, you had almost forgotten how good he looks shirtless. Almost. “Yeah, okay,” You follow suit, pulling your shirt over your head and fumbling at your bra hooks.

You both stumble down the hallway, when you sit on the bed, back against the headboard. Jason looks at you like you're his last meal, and sits in between your legs, hands already reaching for your breasts.

Almost immediately, his fingers are tugging at your nipples and his lips are suckling at them. you squeal each time he bites at your nipples and he's moving back and forth between each like he can't choose his favorite, and humming nicknames for you every time he stops to breathe. After a couple minutes of sweet bliss, you put your hand in his still damp curls and push him off of you.

“Jay, I think you need some attention too.” you put his hand on his chest and push him down so he's lying on his back. You struggled with yanking his jeans down his legs as they were still wet with rainwater, but you managed. He starts: -wait, I didn't even get to- When you get down his boxers, his erection springing free, and he gasps, cutting himself off at the sensation of the cold air hitting him.

You settle in between his legs, wrapping a hand around him. Your thumb finds his tip and spreads his precum over his length, lubricating it for your hand to move. This elicits a reaction from him. “Jesus sweetheart, you never stop,”

You're confused. “Stop what?” you ask, pressing a kiss to his tip. He grunts.

“Making my heart pound out o’ my fucking chest, Doll,” He puts a hand on your cheek. “Never - fuck - stop.” you tighten your grip on his cock halfway through this phrase.

This makes you smile profusely, and to mask the grin, you open your mouth and fill it with the familiar feeling of Jason's member. He nearly howls in response, a string of profanities falling out of his mouth.

You look up at him with eyes you know he loves, and you hollow out your cheeks to - just for a second - suck harder. After this, you run your tongue along his base and pull off of him with a pop.

“Wait no- why- why did you stop? Baby, why did you stop?” Jason starts to whine, a sound you would never forget in your life, and you giggle.

“Relax,” you smile as you move to sit on top of him. You pull your shorts off, taking the panties with them. “I just want to ride you,”

“You're ready? Doll, I didn't even touch you, are you sure it won't hurt- ohmygod!”

You had started to lower yourself onto Jason's cock as he spoke, enjoying the way he was extra vocal when he didn't expect it. You leaned down to kiss him, and it was softer this time. Sweeter, romantic. Loving, not just lustful. And you can feel it, the affection for you that he had never lost. You pull away, your breathing fast and heavy, to say:

“I still love you,”

“I love you too,”

And just like that, it feels normal again. No time has passed and you got through another year together, trying to make what had once been the worst night in his life liveable. You laugh as you continue to lower yourself onto him, but the sound is garbled through a moan.

“What?” he asks, voice gruff from the pleasure.

“Nothing, it just did hurt a little, you were right.” Your eyes are sparkling, and your smile is somehow more beautiful than he remembered.

Jason smiled at you from his place on the bed, starstruck by you, and reached his arm between your legs to rub at your clit. You let out a whine that made you feel pathetic, but Jay reached behind your back to hold your chest against him, letting your bodies line up in an embrace that you were unsure if he knew was reassuring, or was just doing it to be closer to you. Either way, you were glad for the contact, and the feeling of his arm pressed between yours and his chest.

Jason's grin glinted in the warm lighting of your bedroom. You're reminded of a chip in one of his front teeth that you find all too endearing before he speaks. “Can you move, baby?” He punctuates this with pressing a circle against your clit. He smiles wider when you arch your back, pressing your tits harder onto him. You take a moment to regain words, but respond after a moment.

“Yeah,” you responded breathily, returning his smile. You lift your hips up and slowly lower yourself back down. Jason groans loudly, something that resembles your name falling from his mouth. Something snaps inside of you at the noise you had missed so much, and the next time you pull up, you slam yourself down on him.

“Holy fucking shit! Sweetheart, don't you need to take it sl- oh my god, oh my god, you're so perfect,” you continue this pattern, speeding up when he rubs your clit in that perfect way he would never forget.

You continue, sick slapping sounds filling the room. The muscles in your thighs and lower back are sore, and you start to slow down, sitting up so you're no longer lying on him. “ ‘M sorry Jaybird, I just - haven't done this in a while.” You look at your lover apologetically, but he doesn't speak a word back. All Jason does is grab your waist, looking into your eyes for a nod before he takes control.

He pumps up into you, hips lifting off the mattress and pushing deeper into you. You let out a pleasured scream, putting your hands on Jason's pecs, rolling a nipple in between your fingers absentmindedly. His thrusting speeds up when you start doing this. “Jason- Jesus Christ, so good.”

“Yeah? I know baby, I know it feels good,” another of his moans interrupts his sentence, but he continues- “You make me feel good too. So good.”

Somehow his thrusts get more rushed, pushing deeper into you. You let out a pitiful scream when he presses against your cervix, pain mixing into pleasure at the feeling of him bruising you. Jason hears you, and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. You can tell he's close. “Baby, I'm gonna- where do you want it?” He whines, and your walls tighten at the sight of his eyes pleading with yours.

“Inside.”

“Baby, are you sure-”

“Please, Jason. Pill,” You start to beg, even though he hadn't asked for you to. “I need it. Need you. Missed you so much. Please!”

During your last word, you feel him release into you. Jason's hips sputter as he lets out another slightly pained moan. He lets his cock sit inside you for a moment, before he pulls himself out, his still hard cock sitting against his stomach. “Baby, get off. Let me make you cum. Let me clean you off.”

You blush at his words, as if you haven't fucked him a million times, nodding as you move off and onto the mattress. Jason repositions so you can rest your head on a pillow, pulling another to rest under your ass and lift you up.

Once you've settled as quickly as possible, Jason puts his face right against your pussy, admiring the way his cum mixes with your juices, spilling out of you. He starts with licking a stripe up your slit, and the image of his cum on his own tongue will never leave your brain, and causes your walls to tighten before he even puts a finger inside. He swallows, and goes back to licking into your hole, one hand absentmindedly rolling your clit in between his fingers as the other one squeezes your thigh. He moves them down from your clit to press into your hole, mouth instead focusing on your clit.

“Fuck, Jason!” He looks up at you, puppy dog eyes somehow turning you on more than you already were. He holds eye contact with you as he presses a third finger into you, curving to press against your sweet spot. You tangle a hand into his damp curls, pressing him onto your cunt.

Your walls tighten around his fingers, and he puts all of his effort into sucking and lapping at your clit. He hums on the bud, sending vibrations through your core. When you approach the edge, he starts licking at it instead, flicking the muscle back and forth. He talks into your pussy, praises for you being drowned in the flesh.

He lifts his head up for a gasping breath, still moving his fingers inside of you and quickly muttering: “Cum for me,” before diving back in. You listened, one last touch of your clit sending you over the edge. As you cum, Jason laps up the liquid that had leaked out of you over the night, flattening his tongue against your skin as he collects the last he can without a towel.

You shudder as he sits up, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your stomach before getting up from the bed. A moment of panic comes over you before-

“Are your washcloths still in the same place?” He asks softly. You nod at him, feeling too fucked out to speak, and watch him leave your bedroom.

After 30 seconds, he returns with a damp washcloth, and settles back in between your legs to wipe off your legs, pressing kisses on your inner thighs. As he moves up to your overstimulated cunt, he reaches for your hand. When the cloth passes over your sensitive spots, you squeeze his hand. After a few minutes of tender silence, he returns to your side, head on the pillow next to you.

“Hey.” He smiles.

“Hi,” you giggle back. After a brief pause, you continue: “I'm sorry. I was inconsiderate. When we broke up. I know what you do is important, and people need you-”

You're cut off by a kiss. “No. I needed to communicate more. And either way, it doesn't matter.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, “This is a fresh start,” he takes a breath in. “But really, I love you so much.”

You giggle, which seems to confuse him. Through your laugh, you attempt to speak- “Would you say- most ardently?” He rolls his eyes at the reference to his favorite book, but still leans in to press a peck to your lips.

“I love you most ardently,” he smiles at you.

“Good.”

[ivybucky]

First Time - b.b. x gn!reader

Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.

a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k

Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)

Masterlist

Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 

Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 

The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.

“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.

Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”

Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”

He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 

Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 

He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”

—

The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.

“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 

Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”

With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”

He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”

You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”

Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”

Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”

You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”

The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”

Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”

Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 

He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal

Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 

Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 

—

The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 

Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.

Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.

Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.

To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.

John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 

“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”

You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”

He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”

“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”

You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”

____

The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 

You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.

He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.

The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 

You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”

You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 

“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 

He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”

You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”

Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”

You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”

Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”

You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”

Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”

You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 

You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”

Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol

[parkerluvsu]

JUNA (art donaldson x reader)

come to me slowly / it's when you talk close enough

art can't help but walk on eggshells around you.. to treat you like glass that could break at any moment.. but how could he not? he worships the ground you walk on, he'd do anything for you, to keep you with him. even when he talks to you he's quiet, almost meek, but you'd never make fun of him, it's sweet the way he follows you around like a devoted puppy, and does anything to see you smile <3

that i feel it on my skin / breathe it in

art has a nightly routine of helping you rub lotion on your skin, ever since he saw you doing it in the mirror after your shower he was enamored with the sweet smelling cream on your soft skin. you're sure that if art wasn't a tennis player he'd absolutely be a massage therapist, how he knows exactly where to rub to make you release the breath you've been holding in all day, you don't know. and art enjoys it as much as you, being able to be so close to you, the sweet perfume of the lotion making his brain go fuzzy <3

most of these days i don't get too intimate / why would i let you in?

even though arts brain is fuzzy he always has some doubts in the back of his mind, how maybe he isn't good enough for you.. hes been burned before, previous partners pushing him away eventually, telling him they've just "lost interest".. he thinks his heart would actually break in two if you said that to him. he knows he's got a problem.. he should try and stay present with you.. put you dont let it slide, noticing he's been rubbing the same spot on your leg for more than 3 minutes. you reach down, placing a soft hand on the side of his face <3

but i think again / i don't even try

art snaps out of his stupor, big blue eyes gazing up at you, embarrassed that he's been caught. he can never get away with things with you, it's like you read his mind. "art.." you sigh, "get out of your head okay?" he nods, sighing and slumping into the mattress, his head smushed against your newly moisturized thigh <3

i don't have to think / with you, there's no pretending

art is almost ashamed of how easy it is for you to just wipe all doubts from his mind, the simple touch of your hand sending shivers down his spine. he knows he can't hide anything from you.. and it's foolish to think he could. he could never pretend to be okay when he isn't, but he's grateful for that. art makes his way back up your body to sit next to you, leaning his toned body into your side, his eyes closed in thought. even though his head is full of doubts, he looks as pretty as ever, his skin glowing in the lamp light <3

you know me, you know me / and i might just know you too

art loves you so much.. he'd never be able to say which part of you he loves most.. but maybe it's the fact that you know him so well, you can pretty much read his mind. but it's not unfair, he knows you just as much, he can predict your movements and silly comments before you say them when you're watching a movie together, he can order for you at any restaurant because he knows what you like, he comes home with the snack you've been craving all day without you having to ask. yes, you know him, and he knows you <3

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬

ceo!sukuna x secretary!reader, modern au

tags: degradation, daddy kink, sexual indications and language notes: minors dni, listen to "you can be the boss" by lana del rey wc: 1.1k

Once again your Boss, Mr. Sukuna, was staring at you from across the private room at the bar you were drinking. It was almost a tradition that Sukuna invited everyone for a few drinks after an extremely hard day at work. As usual the most beautiful women were seated around him, all of them looking the same – tight pencil skirts and revealing blouses, the only difference being the colors of the said skirts. Yet his eyes were set on you, his secretary.

Feeling pressured, you avert your eyes from him. After all, you weren't blind, your boss was probably one of the most attractive men in the world. Nevertheless, you had resolved never to give yourself to him. Your job was more important than a man whose cock you would love to feel inside you.

There was another point that motivated you to stay away from Sukuna. All the female colleagues hated you. How dare you become his secretary? You. The innocent little mouse who worked in the company for less than three months. Nobody understood why Sukuna chose you out of all the applicants who were eagerly waiting for his acceptance. So engaging in any kind of sexual relationship with your boss would be a death sentence at your workplace.

As your shot glass touched your lips to take another sip, you looked back over at your boss and in that moment your eyes met.

Sukuna was able to get any woman he wanted and he would also be able to get any woman in general. He knew exactly what power he had over women. You, however, were still under his spell, still clinging to some irrelevant moral values. You were a challenge to him and he loved challenges.

Normally, secretaries always sat next to their bosses, but you always occupied the seat furthest away from him and out of sight. This time you were far away, but right at the other end of the table, giving him the perfect view.

Sukuna took in every little detail of your appearance. Your freshly washed hair, tied back in a neat braid. Oh, how he would love to take that hair in his hand and pull it while he thrusts into you from behind. Making you scream and beg for his cock to reach deeper into your clenching little pussy. A loose blouse was buttoned up to the neck, but Sukuna knew exactly what you looked like in tight clothes. After all, your Instagram was public. It would be so easy to stand up and rip off your blouse to take your big tits into his mouth.

"Mr. Sukuna, sir, are you listening?", he heard some woman almost begging for his attention. To be honest, he didn't even know what this chick's name was. Everyone was the same in his eyes, desperate. She pressed her chest against her arm, her tits almost falling out of her top. "You look so good in that suit, is it Armani?" He was wearing his best suit today, since he had something special planned. A bloodred suit with a black shirt underneath, he deliberatly left a few buttons unbuttoned. 

“Ms. y/n”, he called out, "You're staying late today. We have something important to discuss." The entire room fell silent. He sounded so serious. The other women beamed with shameful joy, imagining him screaming at you and firing you. He had completely different things playing out in his imagination though.

Blood rushed to up your cheeks as soon as you heard him call your name, his voice deep and husky. “Y-yes, boss.” You would have loved to run away. If you had known that your boss still wanted to talk to you afterwards, you wouldn't have drunk anything. You were already tipsy, doubting your self-control. Alone with Mr. Sukuna in this private room was both dangerous and seductive.

A few hours have passed and everyone has left, everyone except you and Sukuna. As soon as the room was empty you heard your boss's voice “Crawl over.”

“I’m-I’m sorry, what? I…I think I drank too much.”

“I said crawl over, now.”

Was it because of the alcohol in your system or was it because of Sukuna's deep dominant voice? Your body moved faster than your brain could register the movements and you slowly crawled over to him. Meanwhile Sukuna pushed the table further away from him. He was sitting on the ground, criss-crossed, something that was normal in japanese culture. “What a good little girl, listening to her boss”, he taunted you, his red eyes staring at you.

Ashamed and slightly turned on you knelt in front of him. What kind of situation was that and why the hell did you follow his orders? There was no time to search for an answer because Sukuna had already grabbed you by your throat and pulled you closer to him.

“You need to stop acting all hard to get, little one, it makes me want to ruin you. I know your pussy gets wet for me. Everytime you push your thighs together when I scream at a subordinate or the sudden breaks you need to take after I praise you. You like that, right? Being praised, gets your cunt soaking and seeking for my cock. Desperate slut.”

There was no room to answer once again. As your lips met, a wave of heat surged between you two, igniting a fiery passion that had been smoldering beneath the surface. The air around you seemed to sizzle with anticipation as you surrendered to the magnetic pull drawing you closer.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you in with an urgency that mirrored the racing of your hearts. Your lips moved in perfect synchrony, exploring and tasting, each kiss more fervent than the last. The warmth of your breath mingled, creating a heady mix of desire and longing that filled the space between you.

Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other, your bodies pressed together in a dance of passion and need. Every touch sent shivers down your spines, igniting a hunger that could only be satiated Sukuna himself.

In that stolen moment, nothing else mattered but the electrifying connection you shared. It was a kiss that set your souls ablaze, leaving you both breathless and hungry for more. And as you finally pulled away, your eyes locked in a daze of desire, you knew that this was just the beginning of an unforgettable journey of lust.

“Here, slut”, a cigarette with a number on it was placed next to you on the table, “This is my private number. Call me. If you don’t, daddy will punish you real good, understand?” And with that he stood up, leaving you needy and hungry. Still out of breath your eyes fixated on the cigarette.

Would you text him or stand your ground?

[jointherebellion215]

If It's True

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: When an unexpected guest crashes your House's welcome feast for the Harkonnens, your life unknowingly becomes the start of a sad, sad song.

Word Count: 872

TW: Manipulation, Dark!Feyd-Rautha (so Regular Feyd-Rautha), she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, songfic

A/N: Hi, it's your friendly neighborhood shitposter. I'm taking a huge leap of faith with this fic, because I truly haven't written anything in YEARS. This idea has been bouncing around in my head for days, thus "the trilogy was born". This is meant to be Part One of a three part series, based on different songs from the musical Hadestown. I've obviously written this with very very dark interpretations of the songs and the themes. If enough people like it, I'll post parts two and three. Please let me know if it's any good, I'd love some feedback :)

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories other than what I derive inspiration from are strictly coincidence.

What’s the use of his backbone

If he never stands upright?

“We welcome you to Kolhar, my lords Baron and na-Baron. Our House humbly offers our services and facilities to your use. I toast to our continued cooperation and to the strength of our Houses.”

As your father raised his cup, others of our House followed suit. The official welcome feast was well underway, though House Harkonnen had been planetside for at least a week already. The past few days had been for inspecting our mines and factories, ensuring that our production of their ships and swords were up to standard. 

Now? Pure pageantry. You found it a bit redundant, but it was necessary to ensure your good standing among the Houses of the Imperium. It was a grand occasion, in which the leaders of your father’s council were present, as well as the highest ranked mine workers. 

The doors to the large hall slam open, a familiar figure storming in. Your heart flutters at the sight of your beloved parting the crowds before him. The man who you had met by complete coincidence, one of the workers in a local steel mine, who you had spent the better part of a year meeting in secret—had crashed the court. You noticed a bruise growing on his cheek and blood trickling down his temple, indicating that his journey to enter through the doors was easier said than done. His voice soon bellowed throughout the hall. 

“My Lord Duke, I refuse to let your daughter’s hand be taken by the na-Baron. She cannot marry him.” 

The crowd gasps, as do you. You had spent the past week showing the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha around the grounds, the training of your most fierce warriors, and the best of your planet’s culture. You had shared a laugh or two and shown your prowess as a leader. Yes, you’d spent quite a bit of time with him, but marriage? This was news to you. 

You turn to your father, who gives you an apologetic grimace. Several Harkonnen guards step forward to seize the love of your life. You quickly stand to protest, but the na-Baron stops the guards in their track with a single snap of his fingers. He offers a hand to calm the crowd, an eerie stillness in his form.

“It is true, I have offered my hand to the Lady.”

I believe that with each other, 

we are stronger than we know.

“There must be a way around this. Even if this is in defiance of the court, they can’t punish all of us! We work their mines; they couldn’t truly function without us. We are the ones who truly hold the power! I implore you to stand with me, show them our strength!”

Your love stands strong, chin raised in the crowd, voice pleading with his brothers and sisters to stand beside him. He was convinced that this moment could provide a great revelation, that somehow your situation was different. That the consensus of a crowd could make the na-Baron stand down. Surely, your story could convince even the coldest of hearts that love can conquer all. He must have some sentimentality that resonates within him.

That's one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him. He's always so full of hope. Always willing to see the world as it could be, in spite of the way that it actually is.

But you knew better.

“This is treason.” Someone whispers in the room. Murmurs of assent soon follow, and your heart drops. The crowd around him quickly dissipates, as if the mere act of touching him promises death. 

And the ones who deal the cards

Are the ones who take the tricks

With their hands over their hearts

While we play the game they fix

You start to plead with your father to spare your lover. He doesn’t know any better, he wasn’t raised in the ways of politics or court. It’s purely out of his love and devotion to you, so please—

Feyd-Rautha stands up and the room is immediately devoid of sound. He cranes his neck to look at you.

“You love him?”

You swallow harshly, lifting your chin. “I do.” You went to your lover, making a bold statement in linking your fingers together. Presenting a united front. Hoping that somehow, your kind attitude the past week towards the na-Baron would allow this leniency.

A gleam flashes through his eyes, almost imperceptible. He gives a blackened smile, making show of placing his hand over his heart. Confusion fills you. He slithers down the steps towards the pair of you, boots echoing in the Feasting Hall, each step making your lover’s hand give a slight tremor. Your mind stands strong in its conviction, in the thought that you’ll have to fight for what you want. But a small tendril in the back of your mind gives the slightest hesitation. The smallest indication of hope. Maybe…

Piter leans towards his Baron, whispering concerns in his ears, but is quickly paused by the Baron’s hand. Vladimir gives a slow, menacing grin. He responds to his Mentat in a low voice,

“Don’t bother. You know that my nephew loves to play with his food.”

Is this how the world is?

[theamberfist]

Hell's Second Greatest Dad | Vox + Reader + Alastor

Familial! Alastor is reader's dad, Vox is the dad that stepped up

Description: With your dad, the Radio Demon, having been missing for seven years, you've come to see Vox as father figure instead. But when Alastor shows back up one day, he's furious to find his old friend trying to take his child away from him.

(Notes: CW Alastor, angst) (gender neutral reader) (Reader is Alastor's kid from life) (Could be biological or adopted) (Teen Reader)

❀ This one will have a song! It's a rewrite of Hell's Greatest Dad, but with Alastor in Lucifer's place and Vox in Alastor's place (Alastor gets a taste of his own medicine) ❀

Words: 4,049

"Tomorrow's forecast calling for acid rain with tornadoes picking up around noon in the Doomsday Distract," The familiar voice of hell's iconic tech demon explained, "And now for our Reader's Segment!" He smiled, placing the papers he'd been reading off of on the table in front of him and looking back up at the camera. 

Once he announced your name, the TV screen promptly changed to show you curled up on a plush couch with a fuzzy blanket and a book on your lap. "Take it away, kid." Vox's voice said through the earpiece you always wore while on-air in case he needed to communicate with you. 

"Thanks, sir." You smiled at the camera before turning your gaze down to the book in your lap, "Tonight we'll be reading something a little slower paced. It's fun, cozy, and perfect for a night like this, so let's begin." With that, you announced the title of your current favorite book and then flipped it open, reading aloud. 

The set around you was decorated to resemble a cozy living room; with a crackling fireplace behind your couch, a fake window to your left that was supposed to make it seem as if it overlooked a snowy field, and the softest carpet you'd ever walked on. The log walls were decorated with photos of cute animals since you had no family photos to adorn them, and both the couch, blanket, and carpet were soothing shades of light pink and purple that greatly contrasted the harsh the blues and red of your boss while still remaining within the same domain. 

You read in your most soothing tone, which many viewers liked to claim had the ability to lull them to sleep almost instantly, even if you had no such power that you knew of. Though, you supposed anything calming and cozy like this would have been a great relief in a place like hell, which had been your goal from the beginning. 

Vox was hesitant about your segment when you first pitched it, considering it was so different from the rest of the shows he ran, but eventually he gave it a chance, and it had only ever paid off since. As far as sinners went, you were adorable, and it wasn't just because you were young compared to most of the adults in hell. That, coupled with the cozy vibe of your set and the books you read, was enough to keep viewers coming back, meaning there were more people to see Vox's commercials and, therefore, become his customers. 

Not to mention the fact that it made him look good in the public eye. A teenage sinner who liked to read their little books for the public, and whose soul he didn't even bother to own? He looked more kindhearted than half of hell's overlords combined, no matter his intentions. 

The only person that didn't approve of your reading segment currently stood on a sidewalk somewhere in Pentagram City, watching through the window of a shop. Despite his apparent smile, his eyes were narrowed in disapproval at the screen.

To those who didn't know him, he would have simply looked like a regular sinner; interested in listening to you read the story you seemed to excited about. Had they been paying attention, they might have noticed the way his hands tightened around the microphone he held or how his red deer-like ears tugged back slightly. 

And as for those that did have the sense to recognize him, they wouldn't have even had the time to notice those details, because they would have already turned and walked the other way upon seeing the Radio Demon back after his seven year absence. 

About an hour later, you finished your segment, feeling a little sleepy yourself from the calming sounds of the fire and a good book. Even your cameraman seemed to barely be able to keep his eyes open at this point.

"I think we'll stop there for tonight," you said with a yawn, gently placing your Vox Tech bookmark between the pages and closing your book, "Tune in tomorrow, where we'll continue the story from where we left off." You were talking even more quietly than you had at the beginning, not wanting to disturb any of the viewers at home that may have fallen asleep. Though, it was a futile effort, considering a blaring commercial would likely run the second you were off-air again. "This has been the Reader's Segment; thank you and goodnight!" 

With that, your cameraman signaled that you were now off-air and you yawned again, wrapping the fuzzy purple blanket around yourself despite the warmth of the nearby ambient fire. 

A moment later, the door to your recording set opened and in stepped Vox himself with a familiar frown on his face. He looked around, though, and the second his eyes landed on you, the expression was replaced by a  picturesque smile. "There they are!" He exclaimed happily, walking over to you as you blinked sleepily at him. 

"Hi." You smiled through your hazy tiredness, making the tech demon soften just a bit. 

"Well done, kid." He said, ruffling your hair, "As always." Vox gently placed a hand on your back, leading you towards the studio door and leaving the rest of his workers to clean the set up behind you. "I have to say, I never expected a 'cute' segment like yours to do so well," he went on, ever the businessman, as you half-listened. "Turns out comfort was exactly what pathetic sinners wanted all along!" He glanced your way, his smile becoming more genuine now, before adding, "I'm proud of you, kid." That got your full attention now. 

You'd only heard the words a few times in your whole life, despite the huge positive effect they always had on you. Even the man that had raised you; the one that should have been the most proud in the end, had never actually told you so. Vox may not have been related to you by blood, or even legally, but hearing that phrase from him still made you grin.

"Thanks." You replied, unsure of how to convey how much his pride meant to you. Luckily, it seemed you didn't need to, because he just nodded and then brought you over to the nearby elevator. 

"It's the truth, kid," he replied, pressing the button that would take you up to his designated floor. Each of the V's had one, with Vox's being the highest, that was technically supposed to be solely their living space. However, after you began working for him, Vox ended up converting one of the rooms on his floor to make it yours. Now, your bedroom was the first door on the right after entering Vox's floor. 

"Though, it looked to me like that bookshelf of yours is starting to get a little empty..." He was referring to the shelf found on your set. It housed each of the books you planned on reading next in no particular order. This way, when you finished one for the show, you could immediately pick a new pre-approved one from the back shelf. The one you were done with would then be moved up to your room for you to keep, which was beginning to look more like a library with how many titles there were inside. 

"Did it?" You asked, feeling a little embarrassed, "I can grab a few more to add to it tomorrow." Vox shook his head, though, as the elevator finally reached your shared floor. 

"No need," he replied, "How about we buy some more tomorrow; call it a shopping day?" With how many unread books you already had making a mess in your room, there was really no need to buy any more. But after the first year of having you around, he realized making you happy tended to lift some of the stress and burden he felt off his shoulders, so he did so whenever possible. 

"Really?!" You asked, stars practically shining in your eyes as you stepped out of the elevator. Vox nodded, a warm smile on his face. 

"Of course; can't have my best segment lacking stories, now can I?" You grinned, hugging him without even thinking. At some point during your time working for him, it had become a natural gesture.

Vox rested a hand on your head with a grin, patting your hair. He'd never expected to get so attached to a kid, much less you, of all people, and yet here he was, enjoying the hug as if he were your close family member. 

Once the excitement of the news seemed to die down for you, that fuzzy, tired feeling from before came back. "Thanks, dad..." You mumbled into the tech demon's coat. His eyes widened for just a moment before a smile reappeared on his face. You probably hadn't even realized what you'd just said, and yet, it felt so right for him to hear it. 

"No problem, kid." He replied. Finally, he pulled away, patting your shoulder. "Now, you'd better get to bed if you're going to have enough energy for book shopping tomorrow." You grinned again, wrapping your soft blanket a little tighter around your body. 

"Right." You said, gently rubbing your now-very-tired eyes. "Goodnight!" You called as you turned and opened the door to your bedroom. 

"Goodnight." Vox replied softly before you closed the door behind you and disappeared. He could hear a muffled 'flop' sound somewhere inside, realizing you'd likely collapsed onto your bed immediately after entering. 

He chuckled softly before turning to head to his own room. Vox tended to stay up much later than you most nights; handling various paperwork and business. Today was no exception, but as he made his way to his office, which was attached to the bedroom, he spared a glance at the framed photo that sat propped on his bedside table. In it, you were depicted, holding up the camera to take a selfie. Vox was there too, an arm around your shoulders as he posed for the camera. Both of you looked so happy; smiling brightly as if you had not a care in the world.

It was his favorite photo; thus why it always remained on his nightstand. He turned away now, heading for his office with a renewed determination to get things done. After falling out with his closest friend seven years ago, the tech demon had assumed nothing else would ever be able to bring him joy again.

And he had been right, until you came along. 

..........

You were up bright and early the next day; too early for Vox's standards. He'd barely gotten any sleep, as per usual, but had smelled the breakfast you were making in the kitchen once he came out of his extra office. 

As soon as he entered, you'd smiled and sat him down at the table, handing him a plate of your personal favorite breakfast food. Of course that had been what you chose to wake up and make this early in the morning.

Regardless, the tech demon humored you, knowing you were just excited to get to go book shopping later that day. 

Once you'd both eaten, you hurriedly shoved him into his room, insisting he get dressed and ready for the day while you did the same. Apparently, you wanted to be at the bookstore the second it opened, but who was Vox to deny you, when it seemed to make you so happy?

Once you both were ready, the two of you took the elevator down to the V Tower lobby, with Vox ignoring several calls from his assistant along the way. He could wait until later, the tech demon decided. Instead, he listened to you go on and on about the books you planned to get and how excited you were. It seemed you had a fully prepared list, and Vox was ready to get every single one on it if it brought you joy. Finally, you reached the ground floor and the elevator dinged as the doors opened.

And almost immediately, you were met with the sounds of shouting and windows breaking. Clearly, there was already a commotion, even though it was even ten in the morning yet. Sighing, Vox stepped out first, followed promptly by you, who would never miss out on a scoop if you could help it; especially if it was happening in your own 'basement.'

What you saw was even more surprising than expected. The employees that usually worked on this floor were running around like chickens with their heads cut off; many of them screaming in fear. The secretary that usually worked the front desk was dangling in the air; held by an eerie black tentacle that you recognized all too well. Following it with your gaze, you could see that it was attached to none other than a red deer-like demon, whose body had morphed so that he was almost too tall to fit in the room.

A green 'X' mark sat on his forehead, further confirming that he was currently in his demonic form as he held the secretary up to his eye level.

"Where are they?!" He demanded, his radio static voice somehow even more haunting than usual. 

"I'm not authorized to tell you that!" The secretary screeched, covering his eyes as the tentacle's grip tightened around him and began bringing him towards the demon's open mouth.

Vox's assistant stood off to the side, frantically typing something on his phone amidst the panic. So, that was why he'd been calling so much this morning.

With a sigh, the tech demon activated his mind control powers, taking a step forward into the chaos. "Stop!" He shouted, his voice distorted. Suddenly, everything came to a stop, except the giant demon still holding his secretary, who slowly turned his head in your direction.

Still smiling, his eyes narrowed for a moment before he suddenly noticed you standing there, instantly reverting back to his normal form as if nothing had happened. The black tentacles that had been holding the secretary disappeared, causing them to fall to the floor with a thud. Meanwhile, the Radio Demon adjusted his coat jacket and stepped forward.

"Finally," he called, holding his microphone-cane behind him, "The man in charge, so to speak." Both you and Vox tensed, and you looked to the tech demon, unsure what to do. 

When neither of you said anything, Alastor spoke again. "And it seems you've found my little one!" He exclaimed with an even wider smile, "Good, then I'll have no need to search this entire building for them." Vox's eyes narrowed at the idea, and he was about to take a step to the side, so as to block you, when you finally spoke.

"Papa...?" Your voice was quiet; hurt. The tech demon hated it but you took a step forward, nonetheless. This was, as much as he hated to admit it, technically your father; the man you hadn't seen or even heard from once in the last seven years. That would have shocked anyone. 

"There you are, my dear!" Alastor said, opening his arms to you as if expecting a hug. "Come along, now. We have quite a bit to catch up on!" You didn't move. 

Vox took a step forward, sensing your uncertainty. "You've been missing for seven years," he replied, "They don't have to go with you." Alastor's eyes narrowed. 

"They're my child," he said, "So I'd suggest you get out of the way before things get ugly, old pal." You bit your lip. As much as you'd longed to see your father again all this time, now that you were faced with that reality, you weren't so sure. You'd only just come to accept the fact that he would never be returning for you, and now here he was, acting as if nothing had even happened. 

You used to be close with him, but now it felt like he wasn't even the same person anymore. Vox, of all people, had had to take you in after your dad left without warning, and since then, he'd become the only father figure you had in your life. 

Alastor glanced between the two of you with what would have been a scowl, if not for the permanent smile on his face. Everyone else had all but cleared the room now; leaving only the three of you there in your standoff. 

You were frozen; unsure what to do, and you knew Alastor could see it. It was like having to choose between your two parents in a divorce, except in this situation, it was the once-loving-father that had abandoned you and the man that had stepped up ever since. 

Unfortunately, Alastor didn't seem to read the situation the same way you did, because with his flare for the dramatics, he went on.

"Darling," he sighed before bringing out his mic and beginning a song. Now you knew there was no going back. "Looks like you could use some help," he began, "from hell's Radio Demon himself!" 

Alastor swung his cane, summoning two familiar sinners to the room to back him up now. "Never trust the one who's acting so heartfelt!" He pointed in Vox's direction, and Nifty immediately scurried over, jumping on Vox's shoulder. 

"Traitor!" She exclaimed adamantly before the tech demon ripped her off of him. Husk, however, was less enthusiastic. 

"Heartless," he said, ignoring how Vox glared and began to stalk towards him, only for Nifty to jump and latch onto his back now. 

"A total snake!" She exclaimed and he tried to shake her off again. Meanwhile, the two of them provided enough distraction now for Alastor to gently grab you by the arm and pull you away. 

"Oh, with enough motivation, dear," he went on, "He'll betray you, standing right here!"  Before he could get you out of the lobby door, though, Vox had pressed a button to activate the security measures, locking it from the outside. "Usually, you'd learn it on your own, I fear," he went on, "But for you I'd do anything!"

Nifty ran over to the two of you wearing one of your hats she'd gotten off a nearby coat rack now, hugging one of Alastor's legs as if she were pretending to be you. Or at least, a happier version of you. "Thanks, dad!" 

Alastor turned, pointing to Vox, "Who needs a knock-off now that I have returned?" Nifty nodded eagerly, jumping to rest on your father's head. 

"Whoa!" She sang, having way too much fun with this. 

"Come back to radio; have all you could want!" Alastor went on, trying his best to win your favor once more. "I've all the fatherly affection you've earned!" He spun you around once before gently gripping your shoulders and pointing up as if he were showing you something in the sky. "Clothing, safety, souls of the hasty, this we would flaunt!"

Finally, Vox seemed to have had enough because he appeared between the two of you like a bolt of lightning, gently pushing you away from Alastor and towards the elevator. "Who's been here since he was gone?" He reminded you, "Even if you weren't my spawn? Who gave you the segment that makes them yawn?" He pointed to the crowd of sinners outside, who'd gathered by the windows to watch what was going on. Then he smiled and straightened his bowtie. 

"It's your very own producer!" He sang.

"That's true..." You admitted as he pressed the button for the elevator now, already using his demon powers to call the security staff to the lobby to handle Alastor. Any other day, Vox would have done so himself, but having you right there made the situation much more difficult. 

"I support you, day to day!" The tech demon went on, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, "Your books, show; whatever you can name!" The elevator doors opened, and Vox pushed you inside before you could even think of protesting. Once Alastor was out of sight again, he brought up a photo of the bookstore you'd planned to visit.

"Remember I'm taking you shopping today?" He asked just as a video chat with the bookstore's owner appeared.

"Buy our books?" She asked in the same singing-tone everyone seemed to have adopted now, "Thank you sir!" 

The elevator doors dinged now as you reached the third floor, where Vox's security team was stationed. However, the second they opened, all that could be seen was Alastor, along with an empty office and some black tentacles still disappearing from wherever they'd came. 

"I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond," Vox went on as he hurriedly pressed the 'close door' button in the elevator. They began to do so, only for another of Alastor's black tentacles to stop them just in time, ripping the doors open. "You're like the child that I wish that I had!" If Vox could sweat, he surely would have been doing so by now as Alastor's eyes narrowed again. This was the closest you'd ever seen him to not smiling. 

"Excuse me?" The Radio Demon spoke, his pupils already taking the shape of dials. Finally, Vox stood straighter, turning back to you and patting your head. 

"I care for you just like a child spawned!" He sang, knowing it was getting under Alastor's skin. "It's a little funny," he glanced back, a smirk on his features. Your father was seething. "You could almost call me 'dad'!" The second those words left Vox's mouth, Alastor moved to attack him, only for you both to disappear in crackles of electricity. 

The tech demon almost never transported others with him this way, which meant he was taking Alastor's presence in the V's tower seriously. You appeared on your shared floor, which also happened to have a panic room. It had been designed for waiting out exterminations but, considering the situation, Vox figured it would work just fine to keep you from your father now. 

He began pulling you towards it, only for Alastor to appear out of the shadows in front of him. 

"They say when you're looking for assistance," Vox sang, trying to move around him, only to be blocked by a black tentacle, "It's smart to pick the path of least resistance!" He was getting very tired of playing nice with the Radio Demon, especially when the tentacle previously blocking him grabbed onto his arm and pulled him away from you.  

"Others say that in your needy hour," Alastor said, beginning to pull you away from the tech demon, "The one that first raised you is simply never sour!" He spun you around to emphasize the proclamation, then stopped and placed both hands on your shoulders. "Who just happens to have known you in life!" He added a little more intensely.

A second later, though, you were pulled out of your father's grip by Vox, who began rushing you towards the panic room. "Sadly, there are times a child's needs are met with strife!" He exclaimed, pushing you through the door as gently but quickly as possible, "They say the family you choose is better." 

"Pathetic excuses!" Alastor chimed in, grabbing onto your arm just as gently-but-urgently as he attempted to pull you back. 

"Can you butt out of my song?" Vox snapped, pulling harder on your arm. You were halfway through the door now, awkwardly standing there and not knowing what else to do.

"Your song?" Alastor replied with a scoff, "I started it!"

"I'm singing it; I'll finish it!" Vox shouted back, pulling back on your other arm. The pressure was starting to hurt you now but you couldn't seem to get a word in about it as they fought one another. At this rate, you'd be torn in half before they could come to a custody agreement. 

"You're always such a piece of-" Before Alastor could finish his sentence, you finally cut in, pulling your arms out of both their grasps.

"That's it!" You screamed, finally catching their attention despite the entire song having been about you. "I can't do this right now!" You backed away form them both, feeling more than a little hurt and confused. Vox went to speak up but you weren't having it; raising a hand to stop him as you turned and stomped off to your room. "I need time!" And with that, you slammed the door behind you. 

[hopesangelsprite]

The Summoning

Pairing: Vampire!Illumi x Reader

Summary: Being immortal can grow very old, very quickly and Illumi's found that out the hard way. The only reasonable solution would be to find a suitable playmate, right?

Warnings: mentions of blood/death/murder, biting, size/strength difference, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, dacryphilia, breeding kink, degradation, female ejaculation, manipulation (vampire compulsion)

MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI

Viewer discretion is advised.

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cast me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

Illumi watched with half-lidded eyes as his servants removed a corpse from his feet, nothing left of the younger male but an empty, soulless husk. How many had he gone through now? 30? 300? Whatever the death toll was, it didn't matter. Illumi no longer cared for numbers, the sheer quantity of his years on earth drawing him to the conclusion that they were overrated.

"Bring me the next one.", he ordered while leaning further into the large throne chair he'd taken residence in, "If this one doesn't satisfy me, I'll be draining one of you in their place.". Illumi let threat roll off his blood-stained lips easily, keen on fulfilling it should he be presented another weakling.

There was a brief silence before the doors to his quarters opened, your figure edging closer uncertainly. The closer you got, the better he was able to analyze you. Unlike his previous victims, there were no tears in your eyes or trembling in your limbs. Though you eyed him warily, he sensed you were more curious than afraid. You were quite attractive, as well; with smooth curves just barely concealed by what was left of a skirt and halter top. As you finally got within arm's reach of him, you sank to your knees with fluttering lashes.

Illumi's cock twitched at the sight, the position giving him a perfect view of your tits and exposed thighs. "Do you know why you're here, pretty thing?", he inquired whilst making a mental note of just how fragile you were in comparison to him. To any mortal man, you'd be considered healthy, maybe even too much so for those on the weaker end of the male spectrum. To Illumi, however, you were nothing but a doll, a plaything he could bend and contort to his undead heart's content.

"I was running from my old life... I was promised shelter.", you answered after a moment and Illumi chuckled. He leaned forward, crimson tongue flicking over glinting fangs, and grasped your face with a large, ring-laden hand. "There's no safety for you here, little doll, only death or imprisonment.", he drawled out, keen eyes catching the way your thighs pressed together at his touch. With one hand, you removed his hand from your face, head turning to place a kiss on his palm. The other you placed on his dark denim-clad thigh, fingers tracing patterns into the coarse material. "Then I should aim to please, no?", you inquired as your hand crept closer to his belt.

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

A smirk graced Illumi's lips at your insinuation, lust deepening within him as you carefully undid his belt's clasp. So, he leaned back, dark eyes watching you like a predator behind inky tresses. He pushed his hips forward to allow you better access to him, reveling in the tiny gasp you let out upon freeing his cock. His skin was milky, fading into a pretty pink closer to his weeping tip; a few veins adorned his shaft, a little longer than he was thick. Your mouth watered at the sight, core moistening as you took him into your hands.

Illumi groaned at the softness of your skin against his, catching his bottom lip between a fang as you gave him a few experimental strokes. You shuffled closer, knees no doubt bruising from the floor's harsh surface. You placed your chin on his knees, inquiring eyes boring into his as you swiped a thumb over his leaky slit; you were seeking permission, how wonderfully submissive of you. "Go on then, have a taste.", he permitted with a lazy nod.

His breath caught in his throat as your warm, plush lips enveloped his cockhead, your tongue following shortly afterward. You kissed him wetly, the taste of precum unfamiliar yet welcomed. You took him into your mouth once more, this time sucking him as far back into your throat as you could. A deep, satisfied hum rumbled through Illumi's chest as he watched you begin to come up for air, a blood-stained hand tangling itself into your hair to stop your rising and push you down further. "Now, now. Don't underestimate yourself, darling, you can take a little bit more.", he mewled over the sound of your gagging, "Can't you?".

Illumi finally let you up after a few moments, cooing at the sight of tear-streaked mascara kissing your cheeks. Still, your eyes only held a strange look of awe and adoration; one that Illumi found himself mirroring as you continued to suck him off ever so sweetly. Illumi hissed as he pulled you off his cock, leaning down to catch your lips with his. He deepened the kiss as he guided you from the floor onto his lap, the taste of his arousal on your tongue only making him harder.

As Illumi broke the kiss, lips dipping to nip at your neck while his hands slipped underneath your skirt, a low curse escaped him as his fingers met your bare, soaked core. He found his sanity waning. "Nothing underneath?", he hummed as he brought your face close to his, "What a pretty little slut you are.". He locked eyes with you, eye contact unwavering as he pushed two long fingers past your entrance and began searching for that soft, spongy spot he knew would have you singing praises.

You whimpered upon the intrusion, thighs quaking as he began scissoring you open. Illumi took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, enjoying your breathy moans and the noises coming from your sopping cunt. "Feels good, doesn't it.", he chuckled as your hips began rutting against his palm, "I think we both know what'll feel much better, though.".

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

Before you could reach your high, Illumi pulled his fingers from your cunt. Without a second of hesitation, he shoved those same fingers into your throat as he pulled you down onto his cock, allowing very little protest as your pelvises met abruptly. More tears welled behind your lash line as you adjusted to the stretch of him overfilling your pussy, tip nuzzled snuggly against your cervix and g-spot. "Filthy fucking whore.", he spat as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and began manhandling you up the expanse of his shaft, "My filthy fucking whore.".

You cried out in pleasure as he pulled you back down, setting a quick and unforgiving rhythm. Illumi watched your tits bounce beneath the fabric of your top ruefully as he continued to use you like a doll. He growled as he tugged at its neckline, hips bucking up into you as it freed your breasts with a loud rip. You shivered as Illumi leaned forward to take one of your nipples between his teeth, gently tugging at it before swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. He continued his ministrations, switching between left and right, with a single hand keeping a bruising grip on your hip while the other busied itself by rolling your clit between its thumb and index finger.

Illumi felt your soft walls flutter around him and he groaned into your skin, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. He released your tit with a loud pop, hips pistoning his cock into you faster as he licked a stripe up your chest and neck. It didn't take him long to find your pulse, suckling over the skin while imagining just how sweet you'd taste. Soon, his cock was throbbing in perfect time with your moans, his high growing closer and closer the more you called out his name and begged him to slow down. Instead, he removed himself from your neck, pulling your forehead against his to lock eyes with you.

The air between and around you quickly grew tense, a steady thrum of energy bringing you closer to your high as Illumi's dark eyes melted into a bloody, crimson shade. "Cum for me.", he moaned into your mouth, head dipping to pierce your skin with his fangs. Without warning, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, curses and pleas tumbling from your lips as the stinging pain of being bitten melded into overwhelming pleasure. Your mind grew numb as you came, your arousal spraying over Illumi's lap as he drank you in. And you let him, body trembling and unable to come down from the violent high he'd brought upon you.

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

Illumi released your neck after a long moment, tongue lapping up a few stray beads of blood as he pulled your hips flush against his and filled you with his seed. Another tremor crept down your spine at the sudden hot, sticky substance filling your womb, Illumi whispering sweet nothings and pretty vows into your ear to coax you out of the trance he'd locked you in. You blinked once, then twice, to clear the white spots and tears from your vision.

"There you are, little one.~", he purred before placing a kiss on the now bruising bite mark he'd given you, "Was afraid I lost you for a second.". All you could do was whimper, slumping forward to rest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Your scent faintly mingled with sex and iron filled his nostrils, tempting him to finish draining and breeding you. He let you rest, though, leaning back into the chair with his cock still plugging you full as he, too, drifted into sleep for the first time in centuries.

Besides, the venom and cum in your system would need time to take effectively.

[k2ntoss]

doing a part of the request my fave jason simp, 🦊 anon, made some time ago AND THAT I FEEL BAD FOR REPLYING UNTIL NOW

so writer's block who? i just needed a sex and the city episode to pull out this so here we fucking GO

it's been quite a while since sleeping on jason's place is a regular thing, not only sleeping but spending time there on his free time watching him cook or just sit together to read a book. it's by far the best feeling ever because even if he isn't fucking you into oblivion during the night being by his side feels just right.

despite everything being so perfect and nice there are some boundaries he isn't letting you cross yet and the reason? explained properly and understood by you, he was trying to make sure you'd be safe without anyone finding a way to get to you and hurt you wanting to hurt him with it. that meant not leaving personal stuff on his place, it was risky to let you spend so much time around but he couldn't resist it, jason loved being able to have his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he read on the couch, leaning in every now and then to kiss your cheek.

the room was still dark, it was early when you had started to wake up from your slumber to squirm under jason's arm that was holding you tight against his chest as he nuzzled his face against your back, the feeling of you wanting to escape his grip makes him drag you more into his embrace and a soft grunt leaves his throat when he finds himself unable to bury his face into your hair "where are you going, ma?" he asks, still more asleep than anything as jason still has his eyes closed.

"i need to get ready, love" the reply reaches him and even with that information jason refuses to let go of off you, his arms now wrapped around your hips as you try to get out of his bed, dragging with you the sheets for a whole second before you almost fall from the bed "jay, i really, really need to leave the bed..."

"but it's still dark, you can't leave yet... i want to sleep a little more and i want you here with me" the smile that reply steals goes missing for him, poor guy is still almost fully asleep but he clings onto you for dear life even knowing you probably have something to do during the day before he's able to hold you again "just one more hour. then you're free to go, angel"

"i need that hour to get ready, jaybird" you chuckle, shifting a little under his arm as you try to push it away from you and when you finally escape the death grip jason has on your body the lazy walk to the bathroom is filled with the guilt of leaving him all alone to get ready for something that wouldn't be as nice and warm as your lover's embrace. picking up your clothes and stuff to get ready you rethink and the final choice is clear as water, that much you don't even realize when you started to lift the comfy sheet to push jason a bit "you win... i'll stay here"

the fact that jason isn't fully awake makes his pretty smile even prettier because he scoots a little with his arms ready to hold you again and once you lay back on his bed he leans in to kiss your lips and almost as if sleepiness was contagious you found yourself kissing him back and ready to drift back into your dreams where just like in the waking, you'd stay into jason's arms. hiding your face against his neck, arms wrapped around his torso and one leg drapped over his hips it's nice and warm to feel his big hand caressing your thigh softly as his lips kiss tenderly your neck making you smile widely.

there's a sweet sense of intimacy on his touch and even if the tiredness washes over both of you, jason's hands are now holding your hips to press you against his body and between soft and tender kisses, his hands and yours start to pull off the little amount of clothes you used to sleep. his practiced hands run sweetly over your skin, undoing the clasp of your bra and taking it off while your hands pull up his shirt, fingers gently caressing his scars as he kissed a trail across your jaw.

"you're just so pretty..." jason's gruffy voice makes you shiver and under the sheets his body is pressed flush against you, his hands holding your waist as he rolls his hips against yours as if testing waters and there's nothing that would make you leave his side. not now, not ever.

"i love you so much, red..." you mutter against his chin, letting out a breathless moan when he's able to push into you, his movement is anything but hard. he takes his sweet time to settle between your inner walls, letting out a soft groan accompanied by a content smile when you wrap your arms around his neck to snuggle against him.

"love you too, ma" he whispers against your temple, he has his eyes closed as he enjoys the warmth you provide and he knows that even in the dark place his life is you're everything he will ever need. with a soft sigh he starts moving, slow strokes as he holds onto your hips while muttering sweet nothings into your ear.

the whole room is filled with the tenderness of the moment, silent gasps and soft moans as he held you as if you could break if he got too rough. your lips peppering his jaw and cheeks in soft kisses as he rolls his hips into you making your breath hitch everytime he hits that sweet spot and the chill of the morning feels like something so strange because your morning is sweet and warm while jason is by your side.

time seems to go by slower, lips swollen from the kissing to drown the soft grunts and to delay everything a little more until you feel jason's slow strokes faltering before he spills himself inside you, drawing a soft moan from your lips as your own release washed over you making your body clench around his in a delicious grip. the room is now filled with nothing besides the soft pants of your breathing, his hands caressing soothingly your waist as you nuzzled your face against his neck.

"can't you stay here today? i don't feel like letting go of my pretty princess" jason asks quietly, his voice is still a bit gruffy and he looks sleepy despite what you just did. it's impossible to leave him like this, shiny eyes and messy hair, looking happy finally because he had his little world into his arms.

[water-to-drink]

This Guy’s In Love With You

(Pairing): Diluc x gn!reader

(Synopsis): Diluc is in love and his journey to win your heart

(Tags/Warnings): Pinning, Diluc is whipped, might feel awkward, song fic, (if I missed anything lmk)

(Word Count): 440

Song used as inspiration:

You see this guy, the Diluc Ragnvindr, is love in with you

Yes, the stone cold Master Diluc is love, anyone could tell with the way he looks at you. Who looks at you with the same level of fondness in the young master’s eyes whenever he catches sight of you?

Whenever you flash him your smile that rivals the sun he can tell that the two of you know each other very well

How can he show you how much you captured his heart?

He’s honestly happy that you came into his life. Whenever you come into his bar it instantly brightens up his gloomy day

He pretends to be preoccupied but his attention is always on you, even when you have those conversations you have with your friends on the second floor. His heart exploded with joy when he overheard that you think he’s handsome

With this knowledge he wants to make things happen between you and him. It’s just the question on how. He wishes that he had the courage to ask you himself instead of just eavesdropping on your conversations, being the last to know about you

Pushing his anxiety aside he goes up to you one day to begin courting you. With shaky hands he presses a bouquet of roses to you

Scared of his heart breaking by your rejection, Diluc doesn’t know if he can handle it, cause he needs your love like he needs oxygen, he wants your love like he wants his daily glass of grape juice

You say yes, you’re in love with him

In love with the man in front of you. Diluc is so happy he could die

The two of you being dating and it all feels like a fairytale. Learning everything about you, from your likes and dislikes, your moments of heartbreak. You comfort him with his own moments of heartbreak. Before he knew it your lives slowly blend into each other’s

As the two of you make your way through a field of flowers, he knows that this is the perfect place. Getting down on one knee he pulls out a small box. Don’t let him be the last to know

With shaky hands he presents the box with a ring inside

He hopes that you accept his proposal

As the lingering shock settles down you nod your head with tears in your eyes

So overjoyed he stands up and spins you around, both of your laughter fills the air,

you’re in love, in love with Diluc Ragnvindr

If not he would just die

He stopped spinning you to press his lips against yours

[mrs-saturday]

🏹 The Archer (LS2)

♥ my masterlist!

♥ pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

♥ synopsis: The aftermath.

♥ a/n: Im so upset. Im broken. This is my grieving process

Combat, I'm ready for combat,

The pre-race ritual has always been the same for Logan and you. In front of the mirror, your hands slipping around his toned midriff, nails tracing the evidence of gym sessions beneath his race suit, his helmet on its stand, air at a standstill, as his head falls back onto your shoulder with a shaky exhale.

He knew it, and you knew it.

Zandvoort was the last one, and even though no one knew that for certain, and Vowles hadn't called the meeting, hadn’t thrown down the gavel on the blonde’s dream, you both knew it and it sat in your stomachs like a weight.

He picks his head back up, and turns to face you, planting a small kiss on your nose, and you do the same.

His nose is awfully cold, but you watch him slip the helmet on, and pray that it warms him through.

I say I don't want that, but what if I do?

Watching him spin out was like the nail in the coffin.

Watching orange tongues lap at the rear of his car was enough to drive you to a Hamlet-like state; to jump in his grave, pull the casket lid wide, and scream to the onlookers your love. 

When he’s back from medical, he looks at you, a silent acceptance of the end of his career quite literally going up in flames. He runs over, head buried in your chest as silent sobs wrack through his trembling frame. “Logan…” you mutter into his hair, about to ask what he thought would happen to his seat.

“I don’t even want it anymore…” he cries

“But, what if you do?”

'Cause cruelty wins in the movies,

He was told he was out 2 days before they announced it. The young Argentinian with his head hung low in the meeting room, unable to look at Logan. The cold fist of Vowles telling him what he’d been expecting, but the thought of him ruining this young boy’s career filled him with rage. 

How dare he do this again. How dare he do this to another bright star, to ignite his explosion all too short of a supernova. 

I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

You try to get him to stop for a moment, but he’s sat furiously typing. He has to get it all out, he says. Too many thoughts, he says. He types and types as you hold him. Every frustration, every late upgrade, every lost nugget of feedback, every false promise, the results of which spilled into the American’s notes app like he was a teenage girl, feeling her heartbreak through lines of shower thoughts and ill-placed rhymes.

When he finished, he exhaled, and looked at you, with a weak smile, and hit delete on the note. 

Easy they come, easy they go

You two don’t stay in the UK long. The boxes are full the day it’s announced and the flights to Florida only a few days after. 

“Home” he had begged on that night, “If the track can’t be, I want to make home with you”

And you agreed, you packed up your life in England alongside him, the helmets and trophies of past delegated to a manila coloured box labelled “FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE”

They would stay there.

For a while, at least.

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

The last thing he does is visit Oscar. Or at least, he tries to. His rosy knuckles tap on the Australian’s door one last time before he realises Oscar is not answering, despite the party going on inside the house. He is far too busy living their dream to remember to answer to the door to a boy delegated to a photograph on his mother’s refrigerator. 

I never grew up, it's getting so old, Help me hold onto you

It’s like he’s 11 again, in his parent’s living room, watching ‘Top Gun’, and eating popcorn. No one has bought it up. Not you, not his parents, not Dalton, it hangs in the air like the wheel had clung to his car by a wire’s length. Instead, you all ignore it for the simple pleasure of family. You laugh as he throws popcorn at his brother like they’re children. And you smile to yourself.

He never got to be a kid, really so why not hold onto that freedom now?

I've been the archer

He’d been the winner

I've been the prey

He was the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

You could never leave him, darling.

But who could stay?

Home always stayed.

[penelopegarcialovebot]

slow dance

spencer reid x gender neutral reader

summary: you're the only person whose brought out this side of spencer since maeve. and when you two are in rossi's backyard, slow dancing to the music from inside alone, it's when he realizes he'd really like to keep you around.

warnings: fluffy talk about relationships, teensy bit of angst about past relationships and self doubt, happy ending tho!!

♬⋆ .˚ now playing slow dance by clairo

a/n: first fic bare with me we're getting there!!

arms tangled around one another, stepping on eachothers feet, whispering sweet nothings together then laughing because you can't take eachother seriously when it's so quiet.

that's been the entirety of your life for the last hour, with spencer. not your friend, not your boyfriend, but some secret third option in between.

"you look nice tonight." he compliments, and you're sure it's for the millionth time tonight, "i don't think i've ever seen you dressed... formally?"

you're not wearing anything particularly fancy, but it's not exactly casual either. again, a secret third option.

there seems to be a theme of that tonight.

either way, you muster up the courage to tease him, "i don't look nice every other night?"

"well, you know that's not what i meant, i just mean, like, especially tonight. y'know?" he rambles as he moves his hands to your waist again.

"i'm just messing with you." you smile back, arms staying wrapped around his shoulders.

finally, the music from inside starts back up, a slower song.

one of the windows in the kitchen is cracked open just enough for the music to be heard from rossi's backyard. more specifically the pretty, fairy light decorated gazebo he loved to talk about whenever he got the chance as if he didn't live in a mansion.

"you look good tonight too. i'd say i never really see you in stuff like this but that'd be a lie." you say, hands running over his chest, tracing the tie tucked neatly into his brown blazer.

"that's not true. i'm not even wearing my converse, you have to admit that's different." he smiles, teasing back.

he was never really good with sarcasm. penelope prides herself in being the one to fix that, but really, something just clicked in him with you.

"but... thank you." he adds, "i tried to dress a little nicer for you."

"didn't try and out-dress me? how kind." you teased again, and he smiles. he loves that little expression you'd get that told him you thought of something witty to say.

"i know, right?" his smile never falters, only growing more as he looks down at you.

it's quiet for a moment, you two swaying back and forth, your head against his chest as he rests his chin right on top of it.

you're not sure if it gets better than this. how it gets better than this, if that.

"i'm glad garcia convinced you to come. maybe because she knew i'd be here." you hum.

"she didn't really convince me. she just... told me you were coming to one for once." he admits, and that makes your heart flutter.

"i don't miss them that much." you lie.

"in your four years at the bau with us, you've come to a total of three. once a year." he say it likes it's a joke, but it's true.

"hey. it's four, now. and if you promise to go to the christmas one, i'll make it five." you reach down to take his hands in yours, squeezing them.

it's true you never really came to these things. you loved the team. of course you did. you were on good terms with all of them. you just didn't trust yourself with alcohol and being in the same room as spencer at the same time. you'd never tell anyone as much, though.

"good. rossi's backyard is prettier in the snow." he replies.

"slow dancing with girls in rossi's backyard a common occurrence, then?" you tease once more, but he takes it at face value.

"me? of course not. i'd never. seriously. just you." his hands squeeze yours once again before moving back to your waist.

"just me." you echo his words. it felt good.

it gets quiet again, and you two are back to the comfort of swaying in one anothers arms. as if there weren't thousands of words left unspoken between the two of you.

what coworkers turned friends slow dance together like this? say things so sickeningly sweet? not ones that were actually just that. coworkers. friends.

it would be laughable, even. because it's not like you haven't seen jj peeking out the window and smile at the sight of you two, or rossi deciding to open the window so you could hear the music to begin with. he wasn't slick, that's for sure.

you weren't one to talk, and neither was spencer.

"what are you thinking about?" he asks, picking up on your silence that goes on longer than you usually let it.

"nothing and everything."

"you can't actually think about nothing. it involves concepts and ideas just to be thinking at all, which is nearly unstoppable unless you're actively stopping it. like if you're meditating right now. and i have a feeling you aren't doing that." he rambles, giving a smartass reply you didn't need, but always appreciated because you'd get to feel his chest lowly hum and hear his voice all at once.

but that's besides the point.

"then everything." you reply, half expecting him to launch the conversation into why that's not humanly possible.

instead, you're caught off guard when you hear, "in a bad way or good way?"

"more good than bad." your hands run over his hair for a moment. curly and oddly soft. he did try a little harder tonight.

"well that's more good than bad." he pauses and continues, voice less... sure, if that was even the right word, "what about, though?"

should you say the truth or lie? because nothing at all would be a lie. but you don't wanna bring up the inevitable when you two are so cozy already.

"us, i guess." you give in. please don't ask further, please don't make this a thing—

"...what about us exactly?" he asks further. makes it a thing. you'd make a comment about mind reading but aren't sure if it'd be appropriate.

"i mean... y'know. we both know. don't we? just... us." you gesture to you two again, before seeing his expression and sighing, "what we are..."

"what we are? as in our relationship status?" he asks, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, "i didn't know it's been on your mind."

it's quiet for a moment, because you both know his question is rhetorical despite it coming out seriously. you both know what you said.

you don't know why this topic holds so much negative weight right now when you could be approaching it with so much more positively. but you're just worrying about one thing: if he's still with the mindset that maeve was the only one for him.

he wasn't the type to play with a girl's feelings, though. you trusted him. it's come with liking him.

"you're overthinking again. i can tell." he brushed a hair through your hair, pulling your head back to his chest.

"you know this stuff isn't easy for me." he adds a little quieter. "at all."

"i know." and you almost say you're sorry for even letting it get this far into the conversation, but you don't.

he rocks you back and forth, cupping your head in his hand. in this position your ears right next to his heart and you can hear how it beats faster when you wrap your arms back around his waist.

"i'll always miss her. but i... i was talking to garcia a few days ago. she reminded me that i shouldn't give up just because of what happened. it's almost like she knew exactly what was going on in my head and it was kinda terrifying to hear but also it helped more than i'd like to admit." he explains.

it was always penelope. the angel of the office.

"with that being said," he adds, unexpectedly, not giving you time to process his previous words completely, "i think she knows how much i actually like you and i never even told her."

oops. guilty as charged—add that to the list of things you'd tell him only after you two were a thing. and not that secret third thing.

"maybe we're not as discreet as we think we are." you smile at the thought.

just as the words leave your mouth, you hear the window open a little more, seeing emily smiling with that i just got caught look before looking back at jj and returning to her with a laugh. talk about comedic timing.

"i like you a lot too, though. it's why i think about us a lot." you add yourself.

"it's just... hard after everything. what if i'm just a string of bad luck? what if something happens to you because of me?" he can't help but start up as he does with certain topics.

"i work in the bau myself, spence. you aren't any more of a threat to me than my daily job itself." you'd tease softly.

the third, but technically only second person he'd let call him that without him cringing.

"i can't argue with that." he admits, nodding, "but you know what i'm talking about. i mean..." he trails off.

"everyone i love has been taken away from me." he says. "i don't exactly have a good track record."

you feel like he's making this out to be he's protecting you when really he's just protecting himself. which makes more sense, now that you think about it like that.

but you also don't really know what to say to that. i won't let that happen. but the both of you know it's a promise you can't guarantee you'll keep.

"say something. anything." he whispers, voice filled with an unfamiliar feeling. anxiety, maybe?

"...i won't let it happen to you again." you mumble against his chest, feeling the way his breath catches in his throat before letting out a shaky exhale.

"you don't know that." he tenses up once more.

"i don't. but i'll try." your grip tightens in his blazer.

"god, how do i say no to you? i can't. the words don't come out." he sighs, almost frustrated. you think it's directed at himself, if anyone, though.

"sometimes i feel like you're nothing but an angel sent down by maeve herself. she'd love you, you know that?" he says and you feel your eyes burn.

"i wish she could've met you." he mumbles, kissing the top of your head, "i wish you could've met a less damaged me. i wish a lot of things, even if the probability of even one, if not all, happening is quite literally 0%." he rambles.

"you're in your head again, spence. too in your head." you point out. he laughs.

"i feel like i always am." he says, a little quieter.

"i don't think you're... damaged." you say, stroking his curly hair again, "you're just hurt. hurting. that's different, to me. that's what i think at least. it's not like you're not getting better."

"too good for me..." he shakes his head, but less defensive this time.

"just think about it, okay?" you say. you remember neither of you explicitly said what it was you were talking about. making it official. but it was implied, right?

"i will. we should get inside." he hums, "don't want you getting any colder in that outfit."

it slips out when you don't intend it to and your heart drops.

"will you be my boyfriend?"

he's quiet, and when you try and pull away to look at him, he holds your head to his chest with one hand. firm but gentle. three words that sum him up perfectly.

"...are you sure?" he first asks, pulling away to look right down into your eyes, hands on either side of your face.

you double down, "of course i am. very sure."

he's just looking down at you now, silently, but you know it's not so silent in that head of his right now. you let him stay in his head for a moment.

"...i still think you're too good for me. but..." he trails off, "yeah. i—just, yeah. i'd really like that."

your lips quirk up into a smile at that, arms still wrapped around his shoulders as they tighten ever so slightly, and you notice how he starts to smile too just from yours.

you see him nervously take his lower lip between his teeth before speaking up.

"can i, er, kiss you?" he asks, studying your face for a moment before his eyes flit up to your own.

you're caught off guard, but give a small yet eager nod, feeling his hands run down to cup your cheeks.

once he has your approval, he's leaning down in the blink of an eye, leaving a small kiss to your lips. this one's gentle, testing the waters.

he takes a brief moment to grasp your reaction, and when he sees it, he leans back down to press a longer kiss to your lips—mouth on yours, tongue running over your lips after you ease into it.

it lasts a bit, his hands on your face before one slips down to your waist and the other to tuck your hair out of your face before resting it on the side of your neck delicately, as if you were glass threatening to shatter.

you two finally pull away, breathing in a series of short gasps and sighs as you feel him press his forehead to yours.

"i hope you know you're gonna be the death of me." he breathes out, caressing the side of your face.

that makes you grin and bring him into another kiss, pulling him down against you.