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mimi-cee-genshin · 1 year

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Friend-zoned? - Alhaitham x f!reader

Summary: How many Akademiya guys does it take to figure out whether or not you've friend-zoned Alhaitham? After discussing how strong he is, Kaveh, Cyno and Tighnari analyze his relationship with you. Things get interesting when you join their table.

Other info: fluff and humor :D, female reader, my extension of the conversation in Alhaitham's character demo because I loved the guys' interactions there so much

Words: 2.7k

*****

"Essentially, more time on contemplation, less time on execution," Alhaitham tells them. "Simple, isn't it?"

"... Not really," Tighnari and Cyno reply.

"Ugh, I knew I shouldn't have brought this up with you," Kaveh complains.

"I thought my answer was quite engrossing," Alhaitham says. He raises his hand. "Boss, this is good wine. I'll have the same please."

Kaveh swirls his cup. "Well, he has at least one weakness," he comments.

"Do tell," Cyno says.

"He's had the same crush for years," Kaveh tells them. "The guy's completely smitten."

"You can't be serious," says Cyno.

"Why is that so surprising?" Alhaitham says. "It makes less sense that I wouldn't be attracted to her."

"See what I mean?" says Kaveh. "You should see how he is around her. He practically treats her like a queen."

"I have a hard time believing that," Cyno says, crossing his arms.

"Stop exaggerating," Alhaitham tells Kaveh. "I just treat her the way she should be treated."

Kaveh only laughs at his answer.

"I thought you didn't like social interaction," says Cyno. "Or had any friends for that matter."

"It's not tiring to be around her," he says. "She's different."

"Of course she is," says Kaveh.

"Well this is interesting," says Tighnari. "What is she like?"

"We've known each other since we were kids. She was mature for her age. She did things like helping me resolve issues I had with others to keep the peace, making sure other kids didn't bother me while I was reading… Also, comforting me whenever I got discouraged…"

"You? Discouraged?" Kaveh scoffs.

"Yes? I'm only human you know," Alhaitham simply replies. "Anyway, you get the picture."

"That seems reasonable," says Tighnari.

"So it's one-sided?" Cyno asks. "As far as I can tell, you're still single."

"No," says Alhaitham, crossing his arms. "It's not one-sided."

"You're kidding me, right?" Kaveh says. "Are we even talking about the same person?"

Tighnari raises a brow.

"Every time she introduces him to another woman, she's a little too obvious with sharing why they'd be good for Alhaitham," Kaveh explains, "as if she's trying to sell them off to him."

"Don't be so dramatic," Alhaitham says. "She's not selling anyone."

"If that's the case, then why are you sure she likes you?" asks Cyno.

"Well for one, she comes by often to check how I'm doing."

"Perhaps she simply thinks you're incompetent at your job," Kaveh chides.

"Two," he continues, ignoring him. "She's always willing to hear about the latest book I'm reading, no matter how boring others think of it."

"Hmm…" Tighnari mumbles. "I can understand that."

"And three…" Alhaitham puts down his cup. "Whenever she reaches out for my hand, like when she wants to comfort me, she stops short of actually holding it."

"She does?" asks Kaveh.

"Interesting. So it seems that while she does display some sort of affection for you," says Tighnari, "perhaps she just didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"So you're doubting my conclusion?"

"I'm simply saying it's difficult to judge based on the evidence you've provided. We may need to observe the two of you for ourselves."

Alhaitham sighs. This isn't going anywhere.

"Does she have any reason to not want to date you?" Cyno asks. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were overly critical of her, commenting on her every action."

"I give her nothing but compliments. She knows I think very highly of her."

"Huh," Tighnari says. "That's quite unexpected."

"I've been telling you guys," Kaveh says, "but he's really something else around her."

"Is she… actually older than you by any chance?" asks Tighnari.

"She is."

"Hmm… Well this changes things. Perhaps, she still sees you as a kid and is simply just doting on you."

Kaveh turns to Alhaitham, eagerly waiting for his reply.

Alhaitham clears his throat. "She's less than a couple of years older than me. It's not a big deal."

"Just admit that you're friend-zoned," says Kaveh. "Who'd treat their love interest like a kid?"

"I'm not so sure…" Cyno says.

Both Kaveh and Tighnari raise a brow.

"I think that Alhaitham has a clearer picture and can judge more accurately than any of us. They've known each other for long enough."

"It's just his wishful thinking on his part," says Kaveh. "Who wouldn't want to read into their crush's actions?"

"I agree to an extent," says Tighnari, "but perhaps we're missing some crucial information here. We don't know how well Alhaitham can judge a person's actions when romantic feelings are involved."

"I'm thinking quite clearly, thanks," Alhaitham says.

"This is why you aren't getting anywhere," Kaveh scolds him. "You're assuming she has feelings for you when she doesn't. You still need to win her over."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Alhaitham crosses his arms.

"Ha. As if I'd help you. She could do way better than you anyway."

Alhaitham groans. Why is he even part of this conversation?

"Well, have you ever told her how you felt?" asks Cyno.

"Of course," replies Alhaitham. "I'm pretty obvious about it."

"For someone as reserved as you, I highly doubt that," Cyno adds.

"I wrote her a letter, eloquently expressing my love for her."

"Pfft. What?" Kaveh snorts.

Tighnari stares in disbelief. "Oh. I get it. You did that when you were children."

"I'm referring to the one I gave her yesterday."

"Pfft."

"That's… pretty obvious," Tighnari adds.

"I bet it was more of an essay than a love letter," Kaveh says with a smirk.

"Well, in that case, she either doesn't like you," says Tighnari, "or there's something that prevents her from admitting her feelings."

"Perhaps she's intimidated by your position," suggests Cyno.

"It's unlike her to care about those things," Alhaitham says. "She even treats me like a kid at times."

"So you do admit she just thinks of you as a kid," Kaveh says.

Alhaitham doesn't answer.

"Honestly, this case is closed," Kaveh continues. "There's nothing more to it."

"Hmm... Have you tried to make her jealous?" asks Cyno.

"You're still not convinced?" Kaveh is surprised at him.

"Knowing the result of that would likely draw us closer to a conclusion," Tighnari adds.

"Why would I purposely try to hurt her?" asks Alhaitham.

They exchange glances. Alhaitham still had the ability to make them go speechless with his matter-of-fact tone.

"Well, he's definitely serious about her," says Cyno.

"I told you," Kaveh says. "Seems like she's the only person he'd open up to as well."

"Of course she is," Alhaitham replies.

"I wonder…" says Tighnari. "Has she ever shared her own struggles with you?"

"Why would that be a factor?"

"Well, that would display how comfortable she is around you."

"Hmm… Not bad…" Alhaitham seems to agree with his line of reasoning.

He goes quiet and uncomfortably so because the other three exchange awkward glances at each other in the meantime.

"Well?" Cyno breaks the silence.

"You may be right," Alhaitham tells Tighnari with a sigh. "But that certainly raises more questions."

"Can we just start playing Genius Invokation TCG?" asks Kaveh. "We just keep going in circles with this topic."

"So you guys did just drag me out to play cards," says Alhaitham.

"It would be interesting to meet her," says Tighnari. "It's gotten me curious."

"Same here," says Cyno.

Kaveh looks up at the tavern entrance. "Huh? She's actually here."

Alhaitham's eyes flicker open for a brief moment. "Nice try. I'm not falling for that."

"I didn't expect to see you here, Alhaitham," you say, ruffling his hair.

He freezes and the three of them take a closer look at his face.

"I never expected him to have that kind of expression," whispers Tighnari.

"Me neither," Cyno agrees.

Alhaitham clears his throat. "They simply invited me here for some cards," he tells you. "Nothing more."

"Can I join?" you ask.

Without question, Alhaitham gets up from his chair. He holds the back of his seat and slides it out, gesturing for you to take it.

Cyno and Tighnari widen their eyes.

"Is it just me or did that feel kind of odd?" says Tighnari.

"Coming from him? You're not wrong there," adds Cyno.

You hesitate for a moment before you accept his kindness and take his seat. He stands next to you, waiting for the other guys to start preparing the game.

The two onlookers feel slightly uncomfortable for some reason while Kaveh tells them another round of 'I-told-you-so's. There isn't anything out of the ordinary as you all take your turns playing each other. Cyno is intense as usual, not just with his tactics but also with how he approaches the battle like an interrogation. Tighnari was calm and collected even under pressure, and Kaveh spoke his mind with every move, regardless of whether it's his or his opponent's. But having you there with Alhaitham is… strange.

Nothing really happens of significance. The two of you treat each other well and with respect. Just having Alhaitham being a complete gentleman around you is unnerving for the rest of them. Curt responses and sarcastic remarks are absent. He's completely agreeable with you and his usual temper isn't there either. Everyone plays the game in peace.

"You should save that card for later," Alhaitham tells you. "He can't do anything for the rest of the round anyway."

"Hmm… I'm not quite sure if that's what I want to do yet," you respond.

"Alright," he says. "You should do what you think is best."

"This guy…" Kaveh turns to you. "How do you get him to be like that? If it were any of us, he would've scolded us with a lengthy explanation about how we'd lose if we didn't follow his exact instructions."

"What? She can think for herself."

"And none of us can't?"

"I'm already familiar with how the three of you play and where you go wrong. I want to see if she does anything differently."

"It seems that he really does only compliment you, huh?" Tighnari tells you.

"Why would I do otherwise?" Alhaitham states.

His straightforward remark stuns them once again.

"Okay, we get it," says Kaveh. "We all know about your huge crush on her."

"Seems like you can't say anything bad about her even if you try," Cyno comments.

"Of course I can."

"You can?" you ask.

The whole table looks at you funny. You fiddle with the cards in your hand, pretending you weren't shocked for a split second.

"Interesting," says Cyno.

Alhaitham crosses his arms. "What is it?"

"I'm keeping my observations to myself for now."

Alhaitham raises a brow, but lets it go for the meantime.

A few rounds go by and you help set up for the next. When Alhaitham picks up a die for you from the floor, your hand brushes against his and the die falls off the table once more.

"What's wrong?" Alhaitham asks as he picks up the die again. "You're not usually this clumsy."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with me," you say.

He takes a closer look at you and you avoid his eyes. "Alright," he says. "You still ready to play?"

"I'll need to head out soon," Tighnari says. "It's my turn to be on patrol for tonight."

"Hold on," Cyno says, placing his cards on the table. "One last round. I'll be your opponent this time," he tells you.

You finish setting up the game and test your skills against Cyno. He certainly doesn't make it easy for you. You fall behind pretty quickly, but at least he's not as intimidating as when he played with some of the others.

"So," Cyno says, "what do you think of Alhaitham?"

Your eyes widen at his sudden question.

"You're straight up asking her?" says Kaveh.

"Why not?"

"I guess he has a point," says Tighnari.

They turn their attention to you to see what you'd say.

"Well…" you say, "he's very intelligent and talented."

"No, not what everyone else says," says Cyno. "What you think."

"What do you think you're doing?" asks Alhaitham. "Are you interrogating her right now?"

"Just let her answer the question."

"Well…" you say, "he's nice? And sweet?"

Cyno raises a brow.

"He's cute?"

"Pfft." Kaveh holds in his laughter.

Cyno ignores him and presses the question.

"I don't know how to respond," you tell him. "We've known each other for so long I can't just sum it up in a sentence."

"Alright. I'll get straight to the point," says Cyno. "What do you think of Alhaitham's feelings for you?"

"I think he should get to know other people… and try dating someone else?"

"See?" says Kaveh.

"I've already told you I'm not interested in anyone else," Alhaitham says.

"No, you should listen to her answer," Cyno tells him. "She's not lying."

"What?" Alhaitham widens his eyes.

"I'm not done yet," says Cyno. "There's more." He turns to you. "How serious do you think Alhaitham is about you?"

"He's definitely sincere."

"I'm pretty sure that was obvious," says Tighnari.

"But you don't take his feelings seriously," Cyno tells you.

"It's not that. It's just…"

"You don't?" asks Alhaitham.

"Alright. It's your turn from here," Cyno tells him.

"But I thought I was clear," Alhaitham tells you.

"You were."

"Apparently not clear enough."

"Look. You used to follow me around like a duckling whenever you weren't reading a book," you tell him. "How was I supposed to take your crush on me seriously?"

"It's been more than a decade since then."

"I... Okay, fair enough," you concede. "But it would disappear once you learned I didn't live up to your expectations."

"What expectations?" Alhaitham raises his brow.

"I don't know. That I'm this perfect woman that you've been pining for more than half your life. You'd know I'm not so great if you'd actually try liking someone else."

"Is that what you've been telling yourself?"

"You never say anything bad about me."

"Why would I want to talk about your flaws? Especially when I've been trying to win you over," he says. "Besides, aren't they obvious to you?"

"What?" You're genuinely surprised. "Like what?"

"Like how stupid you're being right now."

You freeze.

"Besides, I've been around you long enough," Alhaitham continues. "There's plenty I don't like. Like the way you cut me off at times–"

"What?"

"–or your atrocious style–"

"Okay, that one hurt a bit–"

"–or how stupid do you have to be to keep asking Kaveh for money –"

"Alright. I get it."

"–or that time you–"

"Okay! I get it! You like me!"

Kaveh looks at you as if you've grown another head. "How did you come to that conclusion? Are we even listening to the same conversation?"

"I think she's finally realized that his feelings were deeper than she initially thought," says Tighnari. "Especially since she knows that Alhaitham is still objective with her and not blinded with infatuation."

"That's right," Cyno says. "She's been the exception to his behavior for a long time. It makes sense she would think his judgment would be clouded with the information she had."

You hide your face from them. It's embarrassing how they read you like a book once your guard was down.

"I didn't expect the solution to be so simple," Alhaitham says.

He slips his hand into yours and you let out a little squeak. "You've also been wanting to hold my hand for some time haven't you?"

"Ugh. You're all smug now because you know that I return your feelings."

"I also don't like how you rearranged my bookcase."

"You can stop now."

"I think it's time for us to go," says Cyno.

"But we haven't finished our match yet," you tell him.

"I'll just forfeit this one."

"I'm with you on that," says Kaveh. "Anything before they start being gross with each other."

"I guess this is a good time for me to head out as well," says Tighnari.

The two of you are suddenly left alone at the table with a bunch of dice in front of you.

"Well, that's one way to win a match," Alhaitham tells you. "I'd say it's pretty ingenious actually."

You simply groan. You know what's coming.

"Do you want me to help you win every time?"

"Please don't."

*****

I hope you liked it. :)

This is one of those fics I wish had inline commenting like on Wattpad. I would've loved to see how everyone reacted at certain parts in real time but unfortunately Tumblr doesn't have that.

Anyway, you can find links to my masterlist and taglist on my pinned post if you want to check out more of my writing.

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham scenarios #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact fanfics #genshin fluff #cyno #tighnari #kaveh

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simphornies · 3 months

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Artistic desire [Husk x Shy!Reader] Fluff

A/N: This was a request sent by a lovely follower. I'm not particularly good at writing shy characters but I did my best. Hopefully this suits your taste.

Word count: 3.4k (3,481)

Warnings: none unless you count mentions of mommy and daddy issues

You were a bit of a social recluse. Your parents fucked off and died somewhere in one of the seven rings when you were a teenager and since everything is basically free, besides drugs and sex, you just stayed in your parents’ manor. The only person that really checked up on you everyday was Charlie. You crossed paths when you were younger, rode through the emo phase together and now you’re both older.

Before her hotel opened up, she was eager to tell you of all the plans. Every. Single. Plan. Of course, you didn’t mind the chatter through the phone. You enjoyed something that filled up the empty halls in your home. You helped her redesign a bit but after a while, you were in a pit of…the opposite of an art block?

You spent every waking moment, painting and creating art. If you thanked your demon parents for anything, it’d be the part where their powers passed onto you naturally. Your mother was a beautiful muse, perfection in keeping everything aesthetically pleasing. Your father painted his muse at every given moment. You didn’t necessarily hate them per-say but you sure as hell didn’t love them. The moment you kept something out of place, an inch off the center, your mother scrambled to fix it.

She didn’t yell or bother with correcting you, she would just obsess with the finer details. Your father never stepped up for anything other than painting. Hell forbid you switch up his paints and he’d be locked in his room all day. Finishing piece after piece.

You didn’t take after any of their obsessive traits. Instead you embraced the messy lines, the off-centered pieces. You embraced the imperfection and impurities that came with hell itself.

And that is exactly how you ended up in Charlie’s Hazbin Hotel. She convinced you to take your artistic abilities to brighten the place up. With the surprising help of Alastor, you chose compromise on the color palette. The fabrics, the decor, the lights, the curtains, the rugs. It was all your choosing. And when Alastor decided to phase in a bar with Husk included, the odd placement of green itched your brain in a good way.

The bar wasn’t the only thing that got you going. A surge of inspiration waved through your entire being the moment you saw him. The moment you heard his voice you wanted to capture it in art. There wasn’t a passing day where you didn’t sit at his bar, eagerly waiting for his next story.

At first, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you considering how well you got along with Alastor. But that opinion quickly faded the more you hung around him. Every time he’d tell a story, he noticed you always doodling in delight, listening to every detail. You didn’t participate in conversations much but he could tell you were listening to the whole thing. Your legitimate interest in his stories warmed his heart a little bit more than he’d ever admit. He soon realized that you two were probably the most sane demons in the entirety of the hotel.

“The usual?” He asks. You nod and continue to fill your sketchbook with drawings, the act visible to him by the way your eyes shine. He poured three glasses for you both. One glass of whiskey for him, a glass of champagne for you, and one of your old paint cups with water. He handed you your drink in a champagne glass and your cup next to your sketchbook. Last time he handed that to you, you accidentally drank the paint water.

You quietly thank him as you gleefully kick your feet in the empty space under you. The chairs hoisted you up enough for you to not touch the floor when you sat, something he found admirable. He hummed as he cleans a couple of glasses left over from when Angel was drinking.

Oh how he wished to take a peek at your drawings. He would never try to ask, he learned from one of your small conversations together that you said it’s like a diary. And he’d be damned if he pried into that. The only time he’ll ever get any information from people is when they’re absolutely fucked up wasted. He watched as your face was unbelievably close to the book, the sound of your pencil against the paper was soothing to him. Oddly enough, it was never complete without it.

“Hey, Y/N? Could you do me a big big big favor? Pretty please?” Charlie speaks up, breaking the silence between you two. He sighs and starts to stock up his shelves knowing that you were probably going to get hoisted away now. He feels the weird shift in his chest that made him realize he was actually in love with you this whole time.

“Yes, Charlie?” You looked up at her as you put your pencil down. “What can I do to help?” Your voice was smooth jazz to his ears. He wanted to hear you speak more. And he hated when other demons talked to him. But your voice. He’d fight in a war with the exorcists to hear you speak to him more. He secretly wished you said his name instead.

She gives you a guilty grin, “So, I was trying to make a sign for Sir Pentious and well…”

“It looks a little bit like vomit!” Nifty chimed in, unashamed.

Charlie laughed nervously, “I may have chosen the wrong green…Would you mind, helping me out?”

You smile, “Of course.” You get up, following Charlie and Vaggie to the opposite side of the lobby to give aid in their color struggles.

Nifty continued her cleaning and while she did, she realized that you had left your sketchbook wide open. Of course, as it is in Nifty’s nature, she snatches the book off of the bar’s countertop, just out of Husk’s view and takes a look at the page it was open to. She gasps and runs over to Angel and Alastor, eager to show her finds.

“My my. What a wonderful find you’ve got there, Nifty.” Alastor grins. He was not much of a lover but he sure as hell enjoyed seeing his little pet get flustered. And perhaps he’s been more tolerant lately so he figured he can have a bit of happiness in this hotel.

“Oh. My. Fuck.” Angel stares at the sketches you have of Husk. The two pages were filled with him and just him. Him cleaning the glasses, him fixing his hate, him with his wings out. Some were obvious direct sketches from his day-to-day life but the others were all from your mind. There was one of him in a fancy suit. One with his hair slicked back the way he briefly mentioned it during his stories of being an overlord. Angel stares at the page a bit longer before looking over at Alastor who shared his mischievous grin.

While you were painting the sign with Vaggie, Charlie is pulled to the side by Alastor. “Charlie, my dear. You would say that you are a lover girl at heart, would you not?” He asks.

“Uhm. Yes. Yes I am, Alastor.” She answers with confusion in her voice, “Why?”

“Why, Nifty had some groundbreaking finds just a moment ago that I believe I should be sharing with you.” He smiles widely as Angel hands her the open sketchbook.

“Somebody,” he whispers, “Got a little thing for Whiskers~”

Charlie takes one long look at the page and was about to start squealing in delight until Alastor puts a finger up to her lips. “Ah ah, my dear. Now’s not the time for that. Wouldn’t it be best that you talk about this with her in private.” He suggested.

“You’re right! Ohhhh my gosh! This is amazing!” She grins, “I’ve known her in all my years here in hell and I have not seen her take a liking to anybody. I’ll definitely talk about it with her!”

-----------------

The sign for Sir Pentious was up in congratulations for his arrival and his development. Everyone was cheering him on by the bar. You scout around for your sketchbook, swearing you left it by Husk. He wouldn’t be the type of guy to take personal things like that.

Just as you were about to ask him where it was, Charlie quickly drags you into a spare room, filled with excitement. Excitement that drove you a bit nervous.

“Charlie? Is there anything you need me to do here?” You ask, scanning the empty room around you.

She simply could not contain her excitement. “It’s come to my attention that you, my lovely lovely friend, may have a teeny tiny crush on someone.”

Oh fuck.

“Haaaa. What?” You ask, trying to contain your composure. “I don’t like anybody. That’s funny. Hah hahhh…” You nervously laughed.

Just then, Charlie hands you your sketchbook. “Nifty found it and well…you left it open to your most recent sketches…of Husk!” She squeals.

Your face turns a bright red as you swiped the sketchbook out of her hands. “Charlie! Oh fuck, please don’t tell me you told him.” You were every shade of red possible in hell out of sheer embarrassment.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t take that adorable opportunity away from you and him!” She hugs her shorter friend, “So. Tell me all about it! When did it start? When did you know?” She gasps in excitement as she thought of more questions to bombard you with, “Why? How did you find out? What do you like most about him?”

“W-well I…” You stutter, hugging your sketchbook close, “I’m not sure when but I just know that, these last couple of weeks he’s been…um…you know. Kind of inspiration? My…muse. If you will.”

Charlie loved your answers and continued to ask more questions. “So when are you going to tell him?” She gasps, “Oh my gosh—You guys should totally go on a date!”

“A DATE?” You choke, “Fucking hell—Charlie. I cannot bring myself to do that. You’re the only person I can talk to without stuttering too much and you want me to go on a date with the very demon I like?”

The answer was yes and before you know it, you and Husk are getting pushed out of the hotel with a pile of cash in both of your guys’ hands, courtesy of Charlie. She somehow got you both into matching outfits. A dress with hearts on the collar with a white and red pearly necklace to match. Husk was somehow, probably by Alastor, shoved into his overlord suit and tie.

“You motherfuckers better not fuck up my bar! I worked all day to keep shit organized!” He yelled at the closed door, “I’m talking about you, Angel Dust!” He scoffed and fixed his sleeves.

You couldn’t bear to look dead at him. You safely got peeks from your peripheral. On one of your attempts, the two of you made eye contact for a brief second. You immediately looked away, muttering an apology under your breath.

“Are you gonna stand there staring at nothing or are we going?” He elbowed you gently.

“Oh! U-Uh. I’m not quite sure…where we have to go.” You admitted.

He rolls his eyes, “Thrown into battle blind, huh?” He chuckled before moving in front of you, “Take my hand. Can’t have other demons fucking with our artist.”

You look at him, memorizing the way his grin sat on his face. A light blush forms across your cheeks as you take his hand. He walks with you down the city and into the nearest fancy club in your area.

“Ah. I think this is gonna be a little…”

“You scared?” He grins, “You’ll be fine. You’re with me. I’ll fuck shit up if I need to.” He flashed you his playing cards, edges as sharp as can be.

You sigh and nod, walking in with him. He sat you down at a quieter side, as quiet as a famous club can be. You both share a bottle of whiskey, your sudden interest shocking him.

“You know, that art thing you do is mesmerizing.” Why did he have to bring that up now? You internally groaned. “It’s like magic whenever you put whatever’s in that brain on paper.” He stirs his drink with a claw, looking at you. You swear you see a bit of sparkle in his usual dull eyes.

“Th-thanks, Husk.” You stutter. The way his name came out of you warmed him up more than his drink. He wanted you to say it again so badly. "I’ve seen you do magic too y’know.” As much as he paid attention to your work, so did you. You have endless sketches of him playing with cards, fucking around with Angel’s hand with a smooth move so quick one could barely catch it without attentive eyes.

“Ohhh,” He leans in a bit, a teasing grin plastered on his face, “So you watch me that close, huh?”

You choke on your drink, spitting a bit out, “Wh-what! No.”

He chuckles a bit, leaning back, “Cut the act, Y/N.” He closed his eyes, putting his glass up to his lips, “Alastor told me already. And Nifty. And Angel. And Charlie, you know she can’t keep a secret well.”

You were a mess. They told him and they didn’t tell you that they told him? You’re definitely messing with their rooms later. But how much did they tell him? You can’t pinpoint it. “I-” You coughed, trying to clear up your throat from your near death experience via literal drowning in alcohol. “I can’t help that you’re just…nice to draw.”

You turn away, a bit ashamed and definitely flustered. He was quiet, watching you intently as he sipped on his drink. “I like drawing anything I like.”

Now it was his turn to choke a bit but you didn’t catch it. He wiped his mouth, “So you like me then, right?”

You turn to face him not expecting his face to be so close to yours. A little shift and you two would fall into a kiss. You weren’t able to read his face well. He had a blank expression. You stare at him, face red.

“It’s okay, fucker. You know how it is,” He elbows you, laughing a bit before grabbing your hand to drag you out of the club. “I’m the bartender that knows everything about everybody.”

He rarely used his wings, unwilling to accept his demon form. But tonight, he stretched his wings out. “What’re you-”

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” He looks at you over his shoulder, holding your hand a little tighter. You nod in response.

Without a second thought, he pulled you close to him, hugging you to his chest. You blinked and you were off the ground, soaring through the air. He held you close, careful to not let you fall.

“I want you to see something. Something I doubt anyone’s ever shown you.” He keeps his head up, unaware of how starstruck you’re looking at him. You were also too scared to look anywhere else.

He flies as high as he can, stopping at a certain point before holding you in his arms in a bridal style way. “Look around, Y/N. Take it all in.” He speaks softly. You look around and from where you guys are, you can see the entire Pentagram City. Your eyes are filled with a breathtaking view of the city you grew up in. He smiles at the sight of your interest, “As much as I fucking hate this place. It’s not bad when you can’t hear the chaos going on down there from up here.”

“It’s beautiful. I…I have to paint this.” You state, wishing you had your book with you. You rest your head on his chest. After a while you feel him fly towards a high point at the edge of the city, landing on a mountain. He doesn’t let you down as soon he lands though, he didn’t want to ruin your adoring looks at the view.

Your face is lit up with admiration, you feel at peace. It was quiet but a soothing kind of quiet. Your ears caught onto a different sound while you rested on his chest. Is he purring?

You look up at him, “Thanks for the ride, Husk.” Smiling warmly, you cupped his face in your hand. You swear you felt him lean into it. He puts you down gently before putting his hand over yours, returning your warm smile. “Can I ask you a question?”

He purrs softly, the vibrations reverberating on your hand. He nods. “Is it okay I…pet you a bit. You’re just so fluffy.” He went from looking at you with his eyes half shut to wide open, in disbelief. “I-It’s for my art! My drawings.” You laugh nervously, “You know…reference…” It was half a lie, which he is aware of, you actually do want to capture his soft looking fur in your drawings but wanted to know exactly how dense or fluffy it is.

He laughs, closing his eyes as he sat on the ground with you following after him, “You’re lucky I like you, Y/N. Go for it.”

He hated when people treated him like a cat but for you, he’d make an exception. He’d make multiple exceptions for you. You begin to stroke the top of his head, making sure you remember how it feels in your palms in case you never get the chance to do this again. His purring grew louder as he leaned into your touch.

You began to pet his cheeks, getting a closer look at his face, taking in every detail. From his heart shaped nose, to the way his eyebrows fluffed out of his face. He slowly opened his eyes, peeking at you. You were too mesmerized by how unbearably handsome he is to see him inching closer.

He grabs your hand on his cheek, “I could kiss you right now.” He could what? Before you got a chance to react he pulled you into him, his lips crashing on yours. You yelp before giving in and melting into him. The kiss didn’t last too long but it felt like hours.

You stared at him as longingly as you did dumbfounded. “Look, babe, I notice everything about you. Everything you do.” He holds your head in his hands. “I see the way you light up when Charlie brings you paintings. How you paint with that focused look. You’re one of, if not, the only demon with sense in that hotel and respect my boundaries. You’ve never pushed my buttons once. And I truly, truly appreciate it.”

You lean into his hold, holding his face in return, “I understand you a lot more than you think, Husk. I know it’s silly but I find comfort in you. I love the way your voice sounds. I love watching your magic tricks. I love the way you effortlessly make a drink without even looking. And I love the way you fight. You fill me with so much artistic desire and you get me out of the toughest art blocks out there.”

“And you help me stay calm when everybody gets on my nerves. I’ll take a fight on for you any day, babe.” He rests his forehead on yours, “Who would’ve thought my cold little heart could be warmed up in hell of all places, huh?”

He shifts and rests his head on your lap as you continue to pet him, humming softly as you did.

"And who would've thought I'd be able to get the grumpy bartender to purr in my lap?"

You two enjoyed the rest of your night together. He actually stole a bottle for you two and you both drank the night away.

“You think Y/N’s ruffling his feathers? If you know what I mean.” Angel laughs followed by a quick slap on the back by Vaggie. “Ow! It was just a joke. God, tits.”

“Oh I believe Husk is having a wonderful night.” Alastor grins, aware of what the soul he owns has done, “And might I say, he is quite the charmer. Truly a hidden gem. Under all that gruff he is but a little kitten.” He hummed, teleporting away into his tower.

Charlie was so excited and had set up a congratulations sign on the wall for when you two return. She was happy her dear friend finally found comfort in somebody.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #did i mention this was fluffy #fluffy

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roosterforme · 5 months

Text

That's My Boy | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets caught up in his emotions after Everett turns twelve. As his son gets older, he realizes that days spent playing baseball in the park together will grow fewer in number. He wants to make all of them count.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Length: 2400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32

"I can't believe he's turning twelve next week," Bradley muttered as you and he stood in front of a wall of baseball bats in San Diego's best sporting goods store. "It feels like he just turned seven."

You slipped your arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze. "Have I mentioned yet that I love that you kept the Padres game tradition alive every year for his birthday? Ev is going to flip when you tell him you got box seats for the game on Sunday."

Bradley kissed the top of your head and grunted softly as he smiled. "I fucking love that kid. He still asks me to take him to the park to hit balls all the time. And I just don't know how much longer he's going to think I'm cool, you know?"

You snorted against Bradley's chest and then looked up at him. "He'll probably think you're cool for longer than he thinks I am!"

"Well, yeah. Obviously, Kitten," he said as he rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh. "But I might only last another year or so past you."

"You're obnoxious," you informed him with a grin as he positioned you with your arms out in front of you and your palms up.

"I know," he replied, giving you another kiss. Then he walked around the store and loaded your arms with two new bats, a new mitt, cleats and some baseballs. "I think that's good. Plus I ordered him and I those personalized Phillies throwback jerseys."

"Seriously? You think the two of you needed more Phillies jerseys? You probably already have half a dozen with BRADSHAW on the back."

"Actually I have seven. This will make eight," he said, pulling you closer to him while your arms were still full. "But he won't be a kid for much longer. He's not gonna want to match with me when he's eighteen. And I love spoiling him. And you."

You set everything down at the register while Bradley dug his credit card out of his wallet. "So..." you said softly while the cashier bagged everything up, and he paid. Bradley looked at you out of the corner of his eye as you ran your hand along the back of his bicep. "You want to take me home and spoil me while Everett is with his cousins for the evening?"

Bradley smirked and grabbed the bag, lacing his fingers with yours. "You want to dress up in your bodysuit and kitten ears for me? Let me kiss off your whiskers?"

You were giggling as you ran out to his Bronco, and Bradley was hot on your heels.

----------------------------

"Dad, I want to try out my new gear," Everett whined as he looked out the front window at the pouring rain a week later. His voice was starting to get deeper, and all of the girls in his class had a crush on him. He had grown up so much since Bradley met him, and sometimes it still shocked him that he had a son.

"It's supposed to be nicer out tomorrow. We can go then."

Everett turned and looked at him. "But tomorrow's your birthday."

Bradley smiled. He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do after work than come home, get changed, grab his mitt, and go to the park. "Yeah, it'll be fun."

But Everett still looked skeptical. "Won't Mom be mad if we ditch her on your birthday?"

"Nah. We'll be home for dinner. And I'll make it up to her later."

Everett grimaced and started to head upstairs, but then he paused and asked, "Can we wear our new jerseys?"

"Of course."

And it turned out, you were a little annoyed at first the following day. "I have birthday dinner and cupcakes planned. I thought the three of us could eat together here since we're going to the pizza place with Molly and Bob on Friday."

Bradley pulled you close and whispered, "Just for an hour?" He rubbed your back and gave you his sweetest expression. "We'll just hit a few balls and come right back."

He turned as he heard Everett thunder down the stairs. "Ready, Coach?"

"Please?" Bradley asked you, kissing your forehead.

"Go," you said, pushing him toward Everett. "But seriously, be home by seven or I'll eat all the cupcakes myself."

Bradley and Everett ran out the front door with twin grins and loaded their gear into the back of the Bronco. It was strange to see how tall his son had gotten after a recent growth spurt; he was already almost as tall as you. Another few years, and he'd be the same height as Bradley. Maybe taller.

"You okay?" Everett asked, and Bradley realized he was just standing there staring at him. He looked a lot like his biological father, but he really looked so much like you.

"Yeah," he grunted, kind of missing the days when he would buckle Everett into his booster seat. Now he climbed into the front seat without help. Bradley started the engine and said, "A few more years and I'll be teaching you how to drive this thing."

Everett's eyes bugged out. "You'll let me drive the Bronco? Mom hardly ever even drives it."

"Yeah, well, Mom doesn't appreciate the fine art of making sure it doesn't stall out on the highway."

"I would," he replied, looking around the interior like it was a hallowed space.

Bradley nodded as he pulled into the parking lot. "I don't doubt it, Kiddo. You ready to test out your new bats?"

"So ready!"

The grass was still a little damp from all the rain, but the air smelled fresh as the sun dipped closer to the horizon. Bradley waited until Everett signalled that he was ready, and then he pitched an easy slider to him. Everett sent it soaring. "Holy shit," Bradley muttered as he watched where it landed so they could collect it later. "Nice," he called out as he reached into his bucket for another ball.

This time he threw the same pitch but harder. The result was identical as Everett nailed it far into the outfield. "I like this bat!" he said, adjusting his stance, ready for more.

Bradley rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck before throwing his slider again, this time with everything he had. He could feel the ball leave his hand. The perfect pitch. And then he heard the crack of the bat. The perfect hit. This time the ball went even farther than the last two.

"Damn," Bradley said, reaching for another ball and rolling it around in his glove a few times. "Try the other bat," he told Everett, and he watched his son switch them and take a few practice swings.

"Ready!"

Maybe he wouldn't be expecting a fastball this time. Bradley wound up and threw a pitch that even Bob could only hit half the time in the rec league games.

Crack!

"Jesus, Everett," he said as he watched the ball sail directly over his head. In a real game, it would have been an easy out for the center fielder, but it was hit so well and so hard, Bradley was kind of shocked.

"Come on, Dad," Everett called. "Throw a really hard one."

Bradley looked at his eager face. He wasn't taunting; he really wanted a harder pitch. But Bradley was already starting to get a little sore as he scooped up another ball. He threw the hardest changeup he could muster, and while it wasn't a clean hit, Everett still got some wood on it.

But when he threw that pitch again, Everett hit it square on and sent it sailing farther than the other balls in the outfield. "Damn, Kiddo," Bradley said, gaping at his son who looked completely unfazed.

"Wanna switch places?" Everett asked, heading toward Bradley and handing him the bat.

But it was more of the same. Sure, the bat wasn't quite big enough for Bradley, and it was still hard for Everett to stay in the strike zone, but Bradley could barely hit his pitches. They were too fast. His slider was so good, he had Bradley swinging too late. His changeup was so sneaky, Bradley swung early.

Finally, Everett threw a fastball that Bradley nailed so hard, they'd be lucky to find it in the treeline. "That's a birthday home run, Coach!" Everett cheered, jumping and tossing another ball up into the air.

"Yeah," Bradley rasped, just standing there staring at the twelve year old. He felt tears prickle his eyes as he smiled and closed the distance between them. "You're really good, Ev," he whispered, pulling him tight to his body. When his son smiled up at him with his slightly crooked front tooth and bright eyes, Bradley said, "Let's get home for dinner with Mom."

-------------------------------

You loved more than anything that you and Everett had Bradley in your lives, and that the boys so easily lost track of time when they were together. But tonight you made an enormous dinner for your husband's birthday, and now they were late getting back. Just as you started to make yourself a plate of food, unable to wait any longer to eat, the two of them burst through the front door. Everett was talking a mile a minute, and they looked absolutely adorable in their matching shirts.

"Did you have fun?" you asked, taking a bite of mashed potatoes. It was actually impossible to be annoyed at them when they got like this. But Bradley met your eyes with a soft smile on his face that almost looked a little sad.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice rough. When you set your plate down and went to him, he pulled you in for a hug. "Thanks for making dinner."

"Happy birthday," you whispered for probably the hundredth time today. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "I'm perfect."

The three of you ate at the table, but Bradley was a little quieter than usual. And he only ate one cupcake instead of two or three. And you thought you saw tears in his eyes when he opened the enormous Phanatic foam finger Everett picked out for him.

"I love it. And I love you," Bradley told Everett as he hugged him. "We can put it upstairs in the Phillies room."

You watched the way your son hugged him as he said, "Happy birthday, Dad." There was no way that kid was ever going to stop thinking Bradley was cool.

"Ev, sweetie, it's time to start getting ready for bed," you reminded him.

"Go on up and get a shower, and then I'll tuck you in," Bradley told him as Everett went thundering up the stairs.

He was old enough that he probably didn't still need to be tucked in, but you knew for a fact that Everett had never once asked Bradley to stop. When you looked at your husband across the table, he was rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. You stood and went to him as you softly asked, "Will you please tell me what's wrong?"

He looked up at you with tear filled eyes before scooting his chair back and patting his thigh so you'd sit on his lap. You settled in with your arms around his neck, and he kissed your cheek and your shoulder as he visibly tried to hold back his tears.

"God, Kitten. You should have seen him tonight. He's just so fucking good."

"I know he is," you replied, kissing his cheek.

"No. He's better than me now. He hit the hardest pitch I could throw, and then I could barely make contact with his slider."

You let those words really sink in. Bradley was easily one of the best players in his recreational league. He could pitch nine innings and make it look easy. He could hit the ball beyond the fences. "Are you serious?"

"I'm so fucking serious, Baby," he whispered, rubbing his mustache along your neck. "He's twelve. His voice hasn't even changed all the way yet. He hasn't even reached his maximum height."

You took Bradley's face in your hands and kissed his nose. "And this is making you cry?"

He shrugged as you ran your thumbs along his rosy cheeks. "I'm just overwhelmed. He seems so grown up now." He closed his eyes, voice shaky as he said, "I wish I'd had more time with him when he was a little kid, you know? I didn't get to see him when he was a toddler or anything. It would have been nice to have another year of tee ball. Hell, I wish I'd had a few more years with you, too."

Now your throat felt tight with tears of your own, but you shook your head. "You found us at just the right time. Right when we needed you the most."

Your forehead came to rest against his as he gave up the battle and let himself cry. You loved that he was so soft for the two of you and let you see his emotions. He took as much time as he needed while you ran your fingers through his hair, and when he met your eyes again, he was smiling.

"I don't know what I'm going to do when he doesn't want to play ball in the park with me anymore," he said with a laugh as he wiped his eyes. "I live for this shit."

You kissed his cheek as you heard Everett calling for him to come upstairs. "I really don't think you're going to have to worry about that, Coach."

Bradley stood but kept you close. "Pretty soon he'll be grown. An actual man."

When he tried to walk away to tuck Everett in, you put your hands on his chest to keep him in place. "Yeah. He will. And he'll have the best role model in you to show him how it's done."

Bradley ran his hand over his forehead, and he looked like he might start crying again. "I better go tuck him in while I still can."

You nodded and followed him up the stairs. When he turned right toward Everett's bedroom, you stood in the hallway, blinking away your own tears as you listened to their voices. Their combined laughter filled your house and your heart as you waited to take your husband's hand for the night whenever he was done being the dad who was tailor made for Everett.

-------------------------

Soft and sweet Coach makes me tear up every time. Bradley, Everett is always going to think you're cool, and he's always going to want to spend time with you. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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onewingeddove444 · 10 months

Text

★How the bachelors would react if they accidentally made you cry

word count: 1.1k

Alex:

-would probably not even notice you're crying at first

-his expression would change so quickly

-😀😦

-kind of knew he had it coming though, since a lot of the stuff that flies out of his mouth is....well😇

-would IMMEDIATELY start taking the blame, saying things like "nahhh i didn't actually mean that i lied haha no idea why i said that i'm so stupid" ((starts blaming it on his hormones being affected by working out or something😭😭))

-hesitates at first, but pulls you into the tightest embrace you've ever felt ngl probably hurts a little lol

-his way of apologising to you is saying "you can punch me as hard as you want, i deserve it!!!!"

-starts treating you like royalty for another month, to the point where it becomes annoying

-every time you bring it up, even as a joke, he basically drops to his knees and starts apologising all over again

Elliott:

-if you thought this man was already dramatic as it is....lord🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

-would try to be cool about it, while in his head he's already pressing a dagger to his neck, saying that he has now betrayed his heart and doesn't want to go on any longer

-the moment he sees tears flowing down your face, the only word able to come out of his mouth is a soft "no, no, no..."

-he'd probably start crying with you😭😭😭

-starts whispering the most loving and kind things about yourself into your ear

-literally compares you to the most breathtaking images you could ever envision

-alternative scenario, where he just drops to the floor and starts begging for your forgiveness, even though what he said wasn't really that bad

-after that, he checks up on you every 5 minutes, to make sure you're not upset with him

-would swear on his life and soul to never hurt you again ((mind you it was never that serious😭))

-writes you so many short poems...atp they just become a whole book

Harvey:

-man....😭

-probably hurts him more than it does you lmao

-you crying would be too much for him already...but crying because of him?? ouuu

-is ready to completely retract what he said, even if he's absolutely right, that just doesn't matter to him anymore

-he just stands there for a good amount of time, since he really doesn't know how to deal with these kinds of emotions

-this might just be the first time this man has made someone cry because...let's be fr☠️

-would do that thing where he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears with his thumbs ((after that he's kinda clueless though😭))

-this literally being his worst nightmare...in his eyes hurting you is the equivalent of failing as a partner...and he's not really allowed to fail too often🙁

-would wait 30 years until you're not upset with him ((it takes you exactly 1 minute btw)), and after that it's flowers delivered to your doorstep every day of the week

-even if it were to be a one-time occurrence, he would NEVER EVER forget it, and he would always justify spoiling you with it ((using the 4 cents he makes from the clinic👎))

Sam:

-he is not that smart when it comes to verbalising thoughts please forgive him

-says things like "aw man you're crying😔😔😔😭😭“

-if he's holding a drink or eating something, he offers it to you, even if there's a single bite/sip left of it

-refuses to smile until he's 100% sure you've forgiven him, otherwise he just looks like this: :--(

-low-key fighting for his life not to pull out his phone and google "how to comfort crying person wikihow"

-once you tell him that it's okay between you two bro gets jolly, running around in circles, giggling, twirling his hair and laying down kicking his feet up

-the thing he did that upset you could've been minor, but that still doesn't stop him from saying "man...😔🤦 i'm so glad this chapter is behind us now.." like okay???😭😭😭 ((bonus points if he describes this as a "rough patch" in your relationship))

-tries making something for you after, fails miserably, resorts to showing you cool skateboard tricks he learned off of youtube

-learns his lesson and actually thinks more before he says something ((to the best of his ability))

-promises to write a song about your love and go platinum ((shows it to sebastian and gets banned from writing lyrics for the band forever))

Sebastian:

-freezes immediately

-literally unable to get a single word out, what is he supposed to do in his situation😭

-manages to whisper "i didn't mean..." and proceeds to go quiet after that

-he's been living a sheltered life for a very long time, so he's really scared that whatever he says it will only hurt you even more

-you can definitely see his expression change...not only does it soften but he looks UPSET upset, mostly with himself

-pulls you into a hug, hoping that it'll help a little bit ((it does, bro seems like a good hugger))

-asks you if there's anything he can do to cheer you up, and let me tell you he'd really do anything

-does not let you go for the rest of the day, having his arm wrapped around you, holding your hand, even if it's just the pinky fingers touching

-you have to keep reassuring him that it's okay now, he literally hits you with the "are you sure you're not mad at me?" every 3 seconds just to make sure you guys are good🙏

-lets you touch whatever you want in his room, i'm talking elementary school pictures, old sketchbooks, it's all yours, no matter how humiliating

Shane:

-um...uh😭🙅‍♀️

-yeah he is PISSED he's made you cry, he might've been mean when he first saw you, but now??? that is just not allowed in his mind idc

-jumps to self-deprecation immediately, talking about how he's an asshole, how he always fucks things up (🙁)

-just takes the whole blame on himself, no problem with that

-kind of saw this happening in the nearest future, that man does not have a very good opinion of himself let's be honest😭

-you could tell him you forgive him and he'd be like "nah don't do that wtf i don't deserve it😔"

-doesn't try comforting you at first, since he just assumes that you might never want to see him again

-but after the dust settles he reassures you that he's going to do everything to make sure this doesn't happen again

-sends you musty frozen pizza in the mail in retaliation (sigh🙁)

-would love to pretend this never happened, but making you cry really took a hit on his self-esteem, however it also made him think about how to be the best partner you can have

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv imagines #sdv headcanons #sdv bachelors #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #i use so many emojis it’s actually sickening #sdv fanfic #sdv imagine #sdv headcanon #this is my first time writing on tumblr please forgive me if this looks like garbage🙏

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edgeray · 2 months

Text

“LATE NIGHT DEVIL, PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME

and never never never ever let go”- Teeth, 5 Seconds of Summer

Mafia AU! Arlecchino x Reader Oneshot

Author's Note: It's been a while since I've actually published anything on here. Well, my gay ass is back with another oneshot. This one has been in the works for at least a month. I'm considering making a Part 2, but that will definitely take at least a couple weeks for me to publish (if not months). I wish I was kidding. School literally hates me and my teachers are incessant on killing my GPA. This is also a gift for @megistusdiary because it'll be her birthday when I post this. Please go check out her blog for amazing genshin wlw content (especially Arlecchino content!) Would you guys like this on AO3 as well?

Content Warning/Info: This is a long af oneshot (6.3k words), long af descriptions and kinda long intro, Arlecchino is referred to with they/them pronouns, implied female but no usage of feminine pronouns for Reader, general dark-ish content, pet names, Arlecchino is a lil scary, I've never been to a club so I apologize for the very inaccurate information, nor have I ever been apart of the mafia so also inaccurate, a bit suggestive but otherwise sfw, if I'm missing anything feel free to tell me!

---

Monsters are said to have lied underneath beds–waiting to ensnare an unknowing victim–or stalk hidden among the depths of a closet–awaiting an opportune moment to strike its next prey. Monsters are fabled entities that are used to scare off children from bad behavior and are quickly eased from the mind by coddling parents. The mere notion of a monster shooed away like a pesky fly, swept underneath the subconscious like forgotten specks of dirt.

You know otherwise. Real monsters don’t lurk on the undersides of mattresses; no, they lurk both in the skies above and the depths below. They do not stalk dark closets because they instead stalk alleys in daylit streets. Monsters are very real, that you know is true since you’ve seen your fair share of them. You’ve met monsters in person–they’ve come to you before. Terrifying is an understatement for them, and each time one has appeared as a client, you’re no less scared shitless.

You’ve learned that even inhumane demons find themselves in need of entertainment; like the sinful creatures they are, they seek self-pleasure. And that is how you found yourself in this particular circle of hell, meant to serve and please demons, devils, and monsters alike. Perhaps it was a revolting job, working at a strip club run by a criminal organization but it paid decent money for being danced on the fingertips of whoever you were unfortunate enough to be assigned to.

If it was a regular strip club, being an exotic dancer would have been fine. It wouldn't be so bad. Lustful and prying eyes can be accustomed to quickly, and so are the flattering compliments and the awkward flirting by middle-aged married men. However, there was a difference between lecherous and predatory gazes. Here, you aren’t even viewed as a person, no, the clients here, those that come in reeking of smoke or blood (though sometimes both), armed with knives and guns on their person, see you as nothing more than a toy or prey for them. Even in the eyes of your employer, you're less than human in their eyes.

‘You harm our merchandise, you’ll pay for it,’ is the warning given to every guest when they first enter. Merchandise. That's what you are. And that single line of words is the only thing that assures you of your safety among mafia members, gangsters, crooks, and whatnot. You've heard that the organization behind this strip club does well in enforcing that rule according to other dancers, but you personally don't want to see if the statement is true. You've been here for a little over a year, and besides bruising grips and pulled hair you’ve surprisingly yet to be seriously injured in any way. So maybe monsters do have a little humanity in them.

You're quickly growing to be a fan favorite as of recently, which means more money goes your way, but you're not sure how you feel about all the attention on you. It's most likely because of how often you offer private dances and private rooms to clients. Whatever gets you the most money; the faster you make money the faster you can pay off your debt and be out of here.

Tonight is supposed to be no different from other nights. You perform on stage, you rile up the crowd, you get showered in tips, and if there is a customer that looks mentally sane enough not to murder you in private, you take them to the back. Except, tonight, you're approached by your boss, who informs you that the entirety of the club was reserved by the Fatui, a well-known mafia more powerful and larger than the one that backs you up, for some celebration. These kinds of occurrences in the club rarely crop up, but when they do, they're often the most opportune time to bag in an abundant amount of money. Big shots like the Fatui pay and tip well, but there's one unsaid risk that comes with this: as a mere dancer like yourself, your life quite literally dangles in the Fatuis’ hands tonight. The organization that owns this establishment can't retaliate against the Fatuis if they so choose to dismiss the warning. They can't even compare to the might of the Fatui.

Simply put, if a Fatui kills you tonight, no one could do more besides bat their eyelashes. You're not at all pleased with this predicament of practically bordering on death, especially when you know one wrong move with one too hot-tempered Fatui could land you at the pearly gates. Keep pleasing the crowd, keep entertaining them, keep racking in the money, you remind yourself as you continue your dance, twirling around the pole sensually, and the customers devour every movement with their eyes. The only comfort you're given is that you've heard the Fatui are quite reasonable and diplomatic most of the time. This is especially true for the Harbingers, you've heard, the twelve most elite members that serve under the Tsaritsa, and the ones that are the most exclusive customers this night. That doesn't mean the Harbingers are any more humane than the average crook. Having worked in a strip club run by the mafia and surrounded by criminal organizations, the more rumored something is, the more dangerous it is. They can be considered devils amongst demons even. That's simply how vile they're supposed to be.

The most concerning problem about the Harbingers is that you don’t know what they look like, only the occasional whisper has alluded to how to distinguish between the twelve. Perhaps, you can survive through the night if you try not to draw too much attention; let the other dancers shine instead and hope you don’t get requested for a private room or dance. That way, you can ensure you don’t end up dead.

Your time to go upstage comes sooner than you’re prepared for. Your hands are clammy, and your form trembles in a way that only happened during your first month. Both reactions don’t make for a very good combination when your survival relies on you not fucking up and disappointing criminal customers. As you approach the pole, just like every time you’ve done, you make sure that the crowd’s gazes are in the backdrop of your mind, and instead, fixate on repeating the movements you’ve been taught and have mastered with your experience. Bet your survival on the provocative sway of your hips, the practiced showcase of your legs, and the allure of your dancing form. Beguile the crowd, but not too much, just enough to wow them. From what you can tell by the volume of the crowd, you’re doing a good job pleasing the Fatui enough. Your body stops tremoring after a few minutes on stage, and with one last final push of courage, you focus your eyes on the crowd before you.

Unsurprisingly, the makeup of the Fatui are men, though there are notably quite a few women. Either way, all of their attention is on you. As your eyes scan across a crowd, for one reason or another, you stop at a particular set of eyes near the back of the crowd. Intent, pitch-black abysses stare back, like they were trying to bore into your soul and devour every single motion of yours. They don’t quite hold the same ravenous desire as many of those before you right now, you mentally note with curiosity. It feels like your form is being calculated, in the way a predator would cautiously observe their next prey, a sensation you’ve experienced a few times, but each is no less chilling. The weight of their engrossed gaze causes you to shiver momentarily, and you snap away from their disturbing gaze to prevent any fumbling or faltering while you’re on stage.

Tonight marks the first time you actively seek out the same viewer while on stage, or even, during your entire time here. For some reason, you feel awfully bold, or curious, whichever two comforts you more, and unlike the meek little rabbit you usually are, you instead search for the viewer’s gaze. You find the pair of eyes with relative ease, as you remember that above their eyes are distinctive snow-white strands with streaks as black as their orbs. You take a moment to study them, and they remind you of a lion–or lioness–among hyenas. The aura they exude varied quite a bit compared to the other Fatui in front of you: not rambunctious, or arrogant; it's apparent they held an aura of indomitable authority just from the way they held themselves. Perfect posture with their clasped hands nested in their lap, with one leg raised over the other. They’re an embodiment of perfected elegance, however, much like a porcelain doll, they’re also expressionless, their appearance unmarred. You don’t examine the Fatui’s form for much longer because their scrutiny on you pricks at your skin irritatedly.

You don’t look for them again throughout your performance. In fact, you hope you never meet those charcoal pits again. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll be ensnared by whatever beastly claws or fangs you know that Fatui hides underneath that impenetrable mask. The moment your time on stage ends, you rush back to the changing room to shake off your nerves. You sit down at a nearby chair, taking in deep sighs as you attempt to forget how you were stared down like a you were cornered, defenseless animal. And that is what you are, as much as you hate it. There’s nothing that can protect you from the Fatui. Maybe if you hide, never show your face for the rest of the night, they’ll forget they ever saw you and they’ll target another dancer. Surely, that will work, won’t it?

You’re able to steady your breathing before you can delve into a panic attack. Tonight, you decide, you’re not going to take any customers to any private rooms or take any private dances. You’d be missing out on a lot of money, but your life is more of a priority as of currently; not after the ‘encounter’ with that individual, you don’t want to think about how many more are just like them, hiding in the crowd like they were awaiting an opportunity to pounce on your vulnerable form.

Unfortunately, it seems like someone else has other plans for you because your manager storms into the room asking for your whereabouts before his eyes narrow on you. You immediately sit up, stiff as a board when he practically marches his way towards you.

"Someone wants you."

You sigh and shake your head. You should have known. "Not tonight."

He clicks his tongue. "You know I can't allow that tonight."

You bite your lip. "Just pass them to someone else."

"They're not someone you or I can refuse."

"Who?" You question with a shuddering breath, your nails digging into your thigh.

"The fourth one. The Knave. Lord Arlecchino."

Fuck your life. You might as well pull the trigger now. You’ve heard faint whispers of each Harbinger from the customers audacious enough to speak of them. The youngest, the eleventh, charming and boyish. The ninth, money-obsessed but a pretty looker. The eighth, elegant and cold, yet no less alluring. The seventh, as human-like as their robotic creations, which to say isn’t very. The sixth, is hotheaded and mysterious. The fifth, unknown. And the fourth?

Insane. Ruthless. Bloodthirsty. That’s how the fourth is described. You shiver at the horrors that appear on the forefront of your mind when imagining what may come for you. If you're lucky, you'll be alive at the end of the night, more than likely clinging to the edge of living.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get ready as soon as you can.”

And you do. It’s not long until you stand in front of the private room’s door, your guest is already inside more than likely. The Fourth Harbinger is waiting, you remind yourself, fruitlessly trying to swallow down your stress. You can be dead the minute you step inside, this room could be marked as your grave. Whatever he tells you to do, you’ll obey wordlessly to survive. Just nod along, smile, and do whatever it is that he tells you regardless of the demand. You inhale deeply, regaining some ease of mind, before you bring your knuckles to the door, knocking.

“Come in,” comes a deep, flat voice, slightly muffled by its distance but what surprises you is how feminine the Harbinger sounds. Maybe you got the wrong room. You glance back at the room number plate on the door, and it’s the room you remember your manager mentioning. It’s the right room. Maybe someone else? You don’t have time to wonder, however, as you enter the room, knowing that if it is the Fourth, it wouldn’t be wise to keep him (Her? Them? You’ll just stick with ‘them’ now.) waiting.

“Lord Arlecchino?” You inquire as you enter the room, closing the door behind you. Sucking in a harsh inhale, you instantly recognize their distinct hair. It’s them. Your sight is immediately greeted by the figure sitting on the couch before you, sitting in exactly the same way you discovered them–crossed-legged and lounging back with unfaltering confidence. The Knave wears a scarlet blazer over a black compressed turtleneck, with a matching set of crimson leggings. Upon closer inspection, you’re able to make out red irises in their jet-black eyes. Despite the blatant and literal red flag, something about their appearance draws you in even when they scream danger. They’re… you’re not quite sure how to describe them. You admire the unblemished and pale skin, their elegant and rugged demeanor is like the perfect balance between femininity and masculinity. Are they beautiful, or are they handsome? You think both.

Arlecchino stares back at you like they’re considering devouring you then and there. You can’t suppress the shudder that runs down your spine. You’re a sheep before a wolf. There’s something so chilling about them that even with your experience with other clients, none has ever made you feel this way with just their mere gaze alone. This is what separates the average crook from one of the most powerful mafia members you've ever heard of.

You wait for a response but they only continue to observe you. You take the silence as confirmation to your question and that they’re anticipating something from you. Biting back a sigh of resignation, your hands hook underneath the band of your bra top and you lift it just the slightest amount before a cutting voice makes you freeze.

“What are you doing?” the Harbinger demands, their tone chilling and apathetic, making you want to shrink in yourself immediately. Your blood pumps loudly in your ears and your hands tremble a bit. Something about how designing their gaze makes you suddenly self-aware in a way you’ve never felt before another client–you’re practically half-naked in front of them with your skimpy bra top, undergarments, and fishnets and now is the only moment that you've actually considered how little covering is on you.

Why are they stopping you? Isn’t this what they wanted you to do? Or maybe they just want to do it themselves. Those types of customers always have the most bruising of grips and suffocating of holds. You stiffen at the notion. How are you going to survive this night with a Fatui Harbinger of all things? How many of your limbs are going to be fractured and how many of your bones are going to end up broken?

“I…I’m undressing,” your meek voice sounds out and you hate the crack in your speech. The Harbinger continues to scrutinize you. You don’t dare continue disrobing yourself.

There are several beats of wordless response before they then stand up from the couch.

Oh shit. You’ve fucked up. Are they going to kill you now? Is this your end?

Every thought is telling you to run in the opposite direction as they stalk up to you, but you're petrified as you realize with a chill that they’re taller than you. You’re not short by any means, a bit above average height, but they tower over you, looking down at you from above and casting judgment on you like a god. Once they stride toward you, you avoid eye contact by looking straight, observing their neck and clavicle that protrudes from underneath the fabric. You tense when they raise a hand, their manicured fingers placing themselves underneath your chin and long, carmine nails dig into the underside of your jaw, making you wince. They forcefully tilt your head, raising your focus onto their face.

It’s like they plunged their hands down your throat and ripped out the oxygen from your lungs, leaving you unable to breathe. Up close, the first thing you notice is their lips, plump and red from their lipstick. Briefly, you wonder what color their lipstick would look on your skin. Then your eyes travel up, red-crossed eyes gaze back at you and you gape quietly at the distinct shape of their pupils. You swear that their pupils flash red as you finally lock eye contact with them.

“Did I tell you to?” Their tone is cold compared to the strange softness of their handsome (beautiful?) face.

Something in your gut coils inwardly and you want to look away, but their firm hold on your chin prevents you. You bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. You’re delicate glass in their hands, and they can break you so, so easily.

“No, sir.” Only the numerous times you’ve said this phrase ensures you don’t stumble over your words. They don’t answer promptly, but as they observe your features, their lips quirk up the slightest amount.

“You know how to address me. Very good,” Arlecchino purrs after several beats of silence, in a low, oh-so-sultry tone, and oh. Oh.

You’re not sure why, but their last two words make your stomach churn, but not in a discomforting way. In the way that lights a fire underneath your skin and spreads heat to every part of your body. You’ve never quite felt this way with another customer. You couldn’t believe that your body reacts this way just from a single praise but it doesn’t stop the pooling heat in your bowels. The chill down your spine still remains in place, but there’s an off-putting equilibrium of iciness and fervor generated from the client.

The Fatui’s eyes stay fixated on you wordlessly until the hand on your chin turns your head, finally breaking you free of their intense behold. Their grip slackens so that they can trace their nails gently down your throat, every inch of surface their fingertips brush against ignites a blaze on your skin. A shuddering exhale leaves your lips and it seems like they take notice because from the corner of your eye, the small uptick of their mouth grows. Despite how sensual and probing the Harbinger’s touch feels, there’s nothing lecherous about it–purely just intrigue and fascination. It’s a touch you both have and never experienced before. Cold nails rake against your throat, not enough to mark or scratch, but enough to invoke shivers.

You’re aware you should be terrified, but for a reason you can’t pin down, you can’t jerk away from their touch. You try to reason with yourself it was only because you’re one upset away from getting yourself killed but that reasoning falls apart when their hand gingerly traces your jawline and you make the softest of groans, a barely audible noise of content. Unfortunately for you, the sound seems to have reached Arlecchino’s ears and their expression softens slightly: their eyes narrow less and their brows aren’t as creased. And that smirk–if you could even call it that from how faint it is–becomes a half-smirk.

They pull their hand away and your trance is broken, reality returning back to you as you remember that the person before you is still a Fatui Harbinger, no matter how bizarrely melting their touch was. They turn on their heel and walk towards the couch in front of you; the slightest bit of heaviness is placed on your heart. You remain stationary where you are, observing them as they seat themselves gracefully on the couch, and their attention encounters yours again. Their black pits hold expectancy in them. At first, you’re clueless as to what the criminal desires from you, but then their legs spread apart, an inviting gesture that beckons you and every rational thought leaves your easily swayed mind. Your heart skips a beat, and you're sure this time it's not out of trepidation.

Even if you didn’t command them to, your legs would take you to their seating figure. You stand before them, feeling blatantly disrespectful to look down at Arlecchino, but you await their order. They lean back, lounging laxly against the couch, their posture never lacking their usual self-assurance. It only ties the knot in your gut tighter. You’re aware of what they’re instructing you to do, but the absent confirmation makes you hesitant. It seems like the Knave picks up on this because the room echoes with one definitive spouted word from their lips, authority and dominance ringing through their husky voice.

“Sit.”

Your legs buckle underneath you from the one-worded response, the demand only stoking the consuming fire inside you. Eager to please, you perch yourself on their lap, straddling them, your knees pressed into the furniture below you and encasing both of their thighs between your own.

Oh, you think to yourself as your legs make contact with their thighs. They're firm. And for some reason, that provokes your stomach to churn in itself even more. You're so close to them, enough to feel their breath cascade against your skin.

As you seat yourself, you nearly clumsily topple over, instinctively grasping onto their shoulders for support. Their shoulders are remarkably broad, you regard, well-muscled as well. Their hands creep up on your hips, steady but gentle hands grasping on each bare side of yours to stabilize you. The heat that radiates from their hands is infectious, regardless of the nails that burrow into your plush waist. For the first time, you flush considerably, a sweltering inferno forming in your cheeks and your head fills with dizziness. Their touch is gentle–something you rarely experience with customers–so, so gentle that you would describe it as heavenly. How can someone so inexplicably vile have heaven on their fingertips?

It's not a position you never found yourself in. In fact, it's far from the first time you've been like this with another client. But here, as you're sat on top of the Fatui Harbinger, and red x-pupils search yours, a foreign feeling passes through you. Placing your finger on it, you dubiously think it's bashfulness, but the heartbeat that sings in your ears and pulses underneath your fingertips tells you otherwise, tells you it's something more. Against that, you remove your grasp on their shoulders and place your palm flat against the couch’s surface behind the Knave.

You squirm a bit, nervousness in your form as you remain as still as you possibly can, waiting for any more instructions. All you need to do is act like an obedient doll for them in order to survive; compliance is the best way of ensuring survival with people like these. You feel like you're merely eye candy from the way that their attention flits across your body, but you're immobile throughout the entirety of their observance. Being looked at is much better than any physical interaction. Their hands still cup your hips, but slowly, they descend to the side of your thighs, making your skin feel tingly.

Impulsively, you mumble out a quiet "Sir…" as strange sensations brush against your skin.

The sound surprises you and you feel on edge as their eyes travel from your lower half to your face. You gulp considerably. From their stare, they expect more of a response, a reason for their addressment, but even you don’t know yourself; it seems like an unconscious calling that just rolled off your tongue. You cow underneath their gaze, even when the two of you are at eye level. When you linger in quietude, their hand releases one of your thighs and lifts to your face, supporting your chin while their thumb rests on your bottom lip, unfurling it just the slightest amount to implore an answer from your now parted lips. Gleaming scarlet pupils grip your regard sternly, piercing into you and instilling you to spew something out. Except, you still can’t, now too entranced and lost in the crimson.

“Doll.”

Despite the pet name, it's devoid of any affection or warmth. It's a word that drips of command, a reminder of your place: simply a toy that they can play with however they want, a manipulated and decorated plaything for their amusement. That means you answer to them, and so when they request a response, you're under the obligation to please them. Your survival is in their palms anyway, if they wanted you to dance, you would just so they wouldn’t strangle the life out of you.

However, its implication doesn’t prevent the tingling shudders that wrack your body nor the involuntary clenching of your thighs around theirs. Was it the gravelly voice that aroused your behavior? Your cheeks flare at the knowledge that Harbinger sensed the physical reaction. It shouldn't be possible. It shouldn't be possible, your thoughts repeat, but then they're interrupted by:

"Oh?" Arlecchino inquires to themselves, a stark amusement in their speech. Their red glare illuminates slightly, replacing the lost darkening with a faint glow in their pupils, and the corner of their mouth curls up. It is only then that you discover something entirely new: that monsters can be sinfully, cataclysmically, terrifyingly beautiful and the sight before you is the most exquisite example. A devil has you wrapped in its claws and its fangs readied for devouring but it’s disguised as an ethereal angel; blinded by their perilous allure, you mistake their snow-white hair, their lustrous piercing rubies, their flawless porcelain skin, and their burning, fleeting touches as traits of a seraph. From a measly smirk, you forget the atrocities lying underneath their fingertips and dismiss the hazard their presence holds.

The hand on your thigh rakes its fingers up, red nails trailing across the surface of your fishnet, wrenching out a breathy gasp from you as they travel inwards. Tingling pleasure injects into your veins as you subconsciously lean in, imploring for further sensual contact. A plea sits on your tongue and nests in your eyes as you beg them through your pitiful expression. They drink in your desperation with a slow swipe of their tongue over their lips, and that single action is debauched enough to elicit a soft groan from your throat.

“Well, aren’t you an amusing toy?” They drawl out with a preposing rasp and dark abysses glint with an insatiable hunger.

They smirk enticingly, their thumb running across your bottom lip and smearing your lipstick on their thumb pad. Their grip on your chin tightens a bit, pulling you even closer to them before a shadow casts over you when their face nears. Before you can even fathom their intentions, they descend upon you, closing the distance between the two of you. Your lips are greeted with something pillowy soft and fervently warm, and you sharply inhale from the sensation. Every one of your nerves sings frenziedly, your muscles tense all over, and your heartbeat drums deafeningly in your ears–all of this as your body is engulfed in a fervid tornado of heat that makes you lightheaded with pleasure. It takes you several beats to realize the reason for this is that Lord Arlecchino, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave is kissing–no, kissing is far too intimate, devouring–you voraciously like they're trying to rob you of any air, trying to imprint themselves on your mouth. Their mouth dominates yours, pushing against them with a deep fervor and famished urgency, eager to swallow every bit of shocked noise you make.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to indulge.

You first taste lipstick with a waxy flavor hitting your tastebuds. It’s cold against your lips, yet warm at the same time. But the physical texture and flavor of their lips are irrelevant; there’s only one true manner you would distinguish their taste:

They taste like sin.

The type of sin that’s chocolate coated and sprinkled with colorful toppings; depravity so sweet and charming it makes you reconsider the bounds of right and wrong. Degeneracy is far, far tastier than anything you’ve indulged in before. How can something so evil be so heavenly? Cushiony soft, placidly warm, flatteringly zealous, it’s like having a dance with a devil; so unequivocally immoral but no less gratifying. You question if they really belong to the Fatui because how can something like this come from such? You want to engrave the texture of their mouth onto your memory, feel this faux intimacy even when you’ve long parted. The Fourth Harbinger, you surmise as you surrend your will to them, is decadent–the only word that can be defined as both wicked and delectable at once–the perfect word to describe them.

The last remaining bit of reasoning comes to the backdrop of your thoughts and begs you to not be swept away in the heavenly embrace. You discount it in favor of accepting this godsent gift by leaning further with a weak imitation of their ravishing lips and pressing back. It’s a feeble attempt to match their insatiate nature, far too domineering and forceful than you can manage but they display a token of appreciation when they squeeze your thigh, indenting your skin shallowly with the burrowing of their nails. The action exposes just how sensitive you’ve gone underneath their touch and you reward them with the sweetest of sounds.

“Arlecchino,” you mumble with half-lidded dazed eyes in between ravenous exchanges and it evokes a depraved throaty growl from the Fatui, like provoking a call from a starving beast. They lean deeper to indulge in your taste. The gruff sound reaches your ears and it’s like a psalm–you shudder from its musical melody.

Their clutch on your jaw releases and their fingers outline your jawline before snaking to the back of your head. Well-manicured digits entangle themselves in your hair, and there’s a gentle shove against your skull that forces you deeper into the kiss. Your hands clutch onto the couch underneath you as tight as you physically can for any sense of grounding and your knees attempt to close in even more to feel more of their body against yours. The hand on your leg, in turn, caresses the length of your thigh.

Every graceful touch, stroke, and brush exudes an unyielding and infectious warmth that only adds to the stoking fire in your gut, and you’re bathed in so much swelter from the ecstasy that you feel dizzy. Yet, you never want it to end, you grow more addicted and drunk with each encounter of their lips. That, paired with your strained breathing, prompts your stamina to falter much sooner than the Harbinger’s. You let out a soft whine to signal your depleting oxygen, and their mouth unlatch with yours, pulling away despite your ache for more. With the separation comes a small string of saliva attached between the two of you, evidence of the shared intimacy that’s snapped when they lick their lips. The hand behind your head detangles from your hair and you silently mourn over the loss of contact.

You heave for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You’re a little perturbed when you notice that they’re not even out of breath, a small but firm reminder that they’re as inhuman as humans can be. That knocks a sense of reality back into you. Customer, mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, it comes back to you like a train. Here you are swapping spit with them while in the lap of potentially the most dangerous criminal you could ever meet, but fuck were they a good kisser–you’ve never experienced anything that came close to this in your lifetime.

Any foolish doubtful contemplation of the morality of this interaction is swept away just like that when you hear:

“Greedy little thing that you are,” they regard with the most cunning and handsome of smiles, discrete amusement dripping from their words. Their dark pits behold you entirely, the same way they have always done when it seems like they were contemplating what part of you to savor the most. Only this time, you’re not so disturbed by the notion. If anything, the swirling heat in between your legs suggests the opposite.

Greedy wasn't a word often associated with you, yet you couldn't more correctly describe yourself in that moment. Greedy. Greedy for a Fatui Harbinger no less. As ashamed as you should be, there's no use denying that you crave for their touch, for their gaze, for anything and everything they're willing to give you. You want everything and more. The more you contemplate, the more it seems obvious why you wouldn’t. Are they a devil disguised as an angel, or are they an angel that fell from grace? Regardless, they bring nirvana to you. An incessant desire bubbles inside you, your throat swelling up with an urgent request on the tip of your tongue. Would they allow such a thing if you plead? Would they be offended by your impudence? Would they punish you for such? But the necessity outweighs any reconsideration of your insolence and the supplicant beg tumbles out of your loose lips.

“Can I… touch you please, my Lord?” You croak out, wincing at just how wretched it comes out. The response from them is not immediate as the two of you stew in silence, a building sense of dejection inside of you. The expression on their face noticeably contorts, smile lessening, their brows furrowing, and their red x’s glinting dimly. Their free hand raises to near your neck and you suck in a harsh breath as their fingers enclose around your throat. The mere action sends a stinging reminder to your lust-dazed thoughts about their position, and a chill pierces you.

Mafia, Fatui, Harbinger, the Fourth Harbinger, the Knave–the labels cycle through your thoughts. Though their grip is lax, not exactly suffocating and giving ample space to breathe, their fingertips does acutely jab into your skin, a display of their impressive grip strength. You have no doubt that they can suffocate you with one hand alone, snap your neck, or, as your mind ventures into more harrowing territories, crush your skull. Those thoughts alone has you breathless with anticipation. A heavy weight suddenly appears in your gut, so heavy that you feel like you can’t move so much as a muscle.

Did you just go too far? Was that too much to ask? Was this how you were going to die?

The reflex to gag and inhale combat each other in your throat, a discomforting sensation that crawls up your spine while you tremble. You’re almost certain that the nails have penetrated the layer of skin, drawing beads of blood that’ll trail down your mark. You whimper at the prickly pain. Yet, in all your unease, the most masochistic thought arrives briefly at the forefront, and you can’t help but consider: this position is just as intimate as all the other interactions. You’re already so vulnerable in their lap, does the hand around your neck change your peril in any way? No, you’ve been a defenseless lamb to a slaughter the moment you’ve stepped into the domain of a menacing wolf.

Ah. Even now, you can’t dismiss the warmth of their fingertips.

“Do you still want to touch me when I do this?” They demand callously, their voice harsh and reverberating through the room. Their grasp closes more around, and you feel your supply of oxygen inhibited. Tears begin to brim your eyes, but you’re undeterred. Unlike Arlecchino’s, your answer is instant and breathless. Your eyes intently lock on theirs, the hardened expression enough to satisfy their question. There’s no need for contemplation. Danger, you determine, is addicting.

“Yes.”

The previously small smile stretches across their lips considerably. Content, or dare you say it, thrill writes itself over their face and the boulder previously pressed against your shoulders is lifted. Your throat is freed from their hold, but their touch doesn’t halt there. Instead, they rotate your head for you to face to the left, exposing your side profile to them. From the corner of your eyes, you watch as their face draws closer to your skin, hot breath cascading across the small dents her nails created. The one on your thigh finally leaves, moving to one of your hips, tender strokes across your flushed surface. They lean forward, and moist, plush skin meets yours. Lips traverse over the length of your neck, teeth scraping against, making you weakly groan. It takes all of your will to still your body, only allowing for the Harbinger to do whatever they desire to your form. Their touches are burning, burning, burning–so hot that you wonder if you’re experiencing a heat wave. Peppered kisses follow the edge of your jawbone, all the way up to your earlobe. A wet kiss graces your ear and then the most sinful of statements dignifies your eardrums, like a devil whispering hymns directly into your ear.

“I think I’ll keep you to myself after this.”

A short hum follows afterward.

“If you want to touch me, you’ll have to work for it. You’re only mine for tonight, aren't you? Entertain me. Give me a private dance, doll. After all, you have me for all night.”

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Link to M-Alexa's amazing art and how I imagine Arlecchino to look like in this oneshot.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fanfics #guys I'm so tired it's 2AM rn #i have school tomorrow guys #i chose to finish this tonight despite the shit ton of homework I have to do #arlecchino brain rot does that to you #def worth it #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #genshin fics #arlecchino smut #edgeray.writes #edgeray.blog

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jayflrt · 2 months

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𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 08. boo boo the fool

nsfw content below (minors dni)

WHEN YOU GOT HOME, THE LIGHTNESS IN YOUR CHEST QUICKLY BECAME THICK UNEASINESS.

Your bi-level penthouse was dark when you entered, and you felt more alone than ever. Even your day out with Yuna felt strange; deep down, you didn't exactly forgive her, but you felt obligated to accept her apology once she poured her heart out to you. At this point, you didn't even want to check your texts from Giselle, Karina, or Yeonjun about the Instagram stories she posted. You were just as exasperated that she took them despite her so-called social media break.

Even calling your father felt like a chore. You listened to him ramble on about how you needed to do better and strive for greatness. Fix up your resumé. Reach out if you needed referrals. Do more. Make connections. Work harder. Be the person he wanted you to be.

After you showered and settled in to unwind for the night, you heard a knock at the door—five knocks, actually. The pattern was familiar; it was Sunghoon's signature knock. You and your boyfriend came up with it years ago to use on each other, and the repetition made your heart twist painfully in your chest.

You weren't quite sure if you were ready to see him. Not after the argument you both had.

Still, you crossed your living room to open the door because you were far too weak to ignore him.

When you saw him, flushed cheeks from the cold and fluffy hair falling over his forehead, you felt butterflies flap violently in your stomach.

"Can I come in?" he asked, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trench coat.

"Of course." You opened the door wider for him. "I thought you said you were busy."

"Never too busy for my girl."

Normally, those words would have made you blush so hotly that you wouldn't be able to hide your shyness from him. This time, however, you felt a pang of disappointment. How come he could say that so easily but went back on his words every single time? Not to mention he wasn't even looking at you as he said it.

"Are you staying over tonight?" you asked, hope swelling in your chest when he took off his coat.

You and Sunghoon hadn't slept together since school started, and it was starting to upset you because you hardly got to see him over the summer, too. He was busy with his internship most of the time, and then when you two went to Bora Bora with Heeseung, you barely had any privacy to start anything with him.

"Can I?" He circled his arms around your waist to pull you closer. His voice dropped to a murmur when he added, "I think I'll be really tired later, so..."

You swallowed thickly. That could only mean one thing, right? You hoped you weren't getting your hopes up over nothing. The scalding knot in your stomach grew tighter when you felt his body press against yours.

"Yeah, I still have your pajamas," you said, "and your toothbrush is still in my bathroom."

After leading him to the couch, your boyfriend gave you a foot massage while you told him about your day. You admitted to feeling lonely, and Sunghoon apologized with a frown, although you weren't feeling hopeful that he would do anything about it.

"Is it school that's stressing you out?" he asked in that ever-so-tender voice that made you melt. "Is it The Order? You don't have to try so hard, you know?"

"They only take fifteen people," you replied. "I can't be sure one of them will be me."

"Better you than anyone else. I thought you said you were getting close to Jennie."

"I am, but"—you sighed—"I just feel like I'm gonna blow the interview. What am I gonna do when they ask what I wanna do with my life?"

Sunghoon gave you an odd look, as if the answer was as clear as day. "Tell them you're taking over Mercy West."

"But what if I don't want to?"

"Why wouldn't you want to?"

Because I'm not you, you thought. Because my aspirations aren't living up to my dad's expectations.

Instead, you settled for saying, "I think I'm just stressed."

"I know it's hard." He was nodding in understanding as he pressed kisses to the top of your head. You were so wrapped up in your own head that you hardly noticed some of the tender pecks. "I almost gave up on trying to be my dad's favorite."

You frowned. "Did Sungjin say something again?"

"He's just being a dick like always, but enough of that. Is everything alright with your parents?"

"They're the same as ever. I see mom, like, four times a year—unless she decides she wants to fly me out somewhere—and then dad's always too busy to be around. At least now I can live alone and go see them whenever they're around."

Then, the strangest words came out of Sunghoon's mouth, and he said them as if he was in some sort of dreamlike trance. "What if we just ran away together?"

"We could," you replied, entertaining the idea. "Buy a house in Iceland. Raise a couple of dogs together. We could start our own business or something."

"What kind of business?" He hummed as he thought. "Ah, we could make friendship bracelets."

You barked out a laugh. "Friendship bracelets? That's a business?"

"Yeah, you used to be really good at making them. I still have the one you gave me."

"You do?"

"It's not on me because I'm scared of losing it, but I've kept it in a box at home. Still fits like a charm."

You smiled at the memory, thinking back to the days of your youth when you stayed up all night making those bracelets for him and Heeseung. You thought you had unlocked some sort of hidden talent back then (especially after Heeseung went on and on about how he had never seen such a well-made bracelet, which you realized later was probably the first friendship bracelet he had seen). You didn't realize back then that you wove Sunghoon's with special feelings in each strand.

Sunghoon then proposed watching one of the cheesy reality shows you were addicted to. His hands were wrapped securely around you, and you settled comfortably in his chest. The both of you laid there well after the show ended and your TV screen turned off.

"I missed you," he murmured into your hair.

"I missed you, too—so much."

He was stroking your cheek gently by now—soothing circles that almost lulled you into a trance. The unsteady breath you drew in was almost pathetic.

"I'm so tired of all the arguments."

"I don't wanna fight with you, I just—"

"I know." His hands moved up to cup your cheeks, supporting your jaw enough to tilt your chin up higher. His gaze ran over the curve of your lips before he inched closer. "Let me just make it up to you, okay?"

You could only nod, dazed, before Sunghoon pressed his lips to yours with fervor.

His fingers were lost in your hair while your hands gripped the front of his shirt. Your lips succumbed as soon as his tongue prodded at your lower lip, begging for more. Sunghoon didn't seem to have the mind to take it slow; he wanted everything you offered—all at once. The way his hands dropped to your hips to grab you and pull you to him made you believe he would've ravaged you if he had less patience.

He was like a storm. You could hardly keep up with him, but you wanted more. With a broken whimper against his lips and your fingers now unbuttoning his shirt, you completely forgot where you even were as he cupped your breasts with little restraint.

Each kiss felt like he was breathing life back into you. You had yearned for him to hold you like this for so long, and your relationship was starting to feel hopeless once all the constant fights were going on. Now, finally, it felt like that spark was back.

"Sit up," he ordered in a low voice, and you had no mind to question him once you felt his bulge pressing against your thigh, "and take off your shorts."

Was this really happening? You almost always got him off first. He always returned the favor afterward, of course, but this was a shocking development.

But you weren't complaining.

You didn't break eye contact with your boyfriend as you sat back on your white couch, shimmying off your satin shorts before you did so and discarding them. Five grand and soft fabric, but you didn't even care if Sunghoon was about to ruin it.

His gaze was hungry. You had to pretend your veins weren't melting at the very look in his eyes, and, oh, how they darkened at the sight of your bare thighs pressed together.

Sunghoon rolled his sleeves up and then unclasped his watch in a single motion—without even looking at it—and tossed it aside without a second thought. It was the watch his father had gotten him for his eighteenth birthday. The forty grand watch his father had gotten him—laying on the ground.

His hands pushed your legs apart, rubbing your thighs up and down before his fingers teased the band of your underwear. He snapped it playfully, causing you to press your lips together tightly. You didn't dare show him a reaction in case he decided to tease you by pulling away.

But he didn't. He was too impatient for that now as he slipped his fingers past the band and tugged your underwear down to your ankles, keeping direct eye contact with you the entire time. You kicked it off your feet and watched as Sunghoon bent his head to kiss up your thighs.

Slow, open-mouthed kisses that left you biting your lip hard enough that you were almost afraid it would bleed.

"Please," you whispered once he reached the apex of your legs.

Sunghoon grinned up at you, all smug and cocky. The sight could've brought you to your knees if you were still standing.

"Anything for you, my pretty girl."

He moved your legs so that they were over his shoulders, and you leaned back so that you could hold onto the head of the couch. He pressed a hot kiss to your cunt, and you shuddered at the feeling of his soft lips.

He pressed a few more lingering, open-mouthed kisses to your pulsing muscle before licking a long stripe along your soaked cunt, humming inquisitively with an almost insufferable, teasing lilt.

You gasped at the contact, arching back against the couch as Sunghoon flattened his tongue against your folds and continued lapping at your arousal. You felt like you were floating elsewhere, unable to come back down to reality.

It was almost painful how turned on you were. You nearly cried out when his tongue ran over your engorged clit—sore and throbbing from how badly you needed him.

Your soft, broken moans must have roused Sunghoon to push your hips down and start eating you out with sudden vigor. You felt sweat start to bead at the bridge of your nose, leaving a sheen across your flushed skin.

With the position you were in, you struggled to grind your hips against his tongue for more. You needed more. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, but you couldn't stop yourself from chasing your high.

"How good am I making you feel?" he asked in that silky, velvety voice of his.

"S-so good," you managed to get out through teary eyes. "I can't, Hoon, I—"

He shushed you with his lips still pressed against your cunt. His very breath traveled all the way up your spine, up to your already foggy brain and making it all the more cloudy and dazed.

"Cum for me, pretty girl," he murmured, and he plunged his tongue inside you with no mercy.

You felt like you had burst into flames seconds later. The pleasure racked your body in waves, nearly causing you to double over on the arm of your couch. You gripped the fabric tighter until you suspected you had plucked some loose strings right out.

You had no idea you were crying out in pleasure until Sunghoon was shushing you gently, moving back up right after your orgasm to hold you in his arms and kiss you with utmost passion. You were practically clawing at him, begging him to help you ride out your orgasm, but he wasn't listening.

You pouted, whining, "But I want more."

"Baby, it's late," he said, stroking your hair after he pushed the loose strands out of your face. "I promise we'll have all the time in the world to ourselves soon."

Although you were slightly disappointed, you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him hold you tight to his body. He knew that you liked to be a little clingy after intimacy, so even though you were upset that you couldn't pleasure him in return, you still wanted to be close to your boyfriend.

You let Sunghoon carry you to bed. He was always so gentle in how he laid you down properly in your queen-sized bed and tucked you in. Even though your eyelids felt heavy, you waited for him to change into the spare clothes he left at your place ages ago, and then crawl in next to you once he was ready.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the palm of your hand.

Sunghoon stroked your side gently, circling his thumb against your skin as he asked you, "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," you replied too quickly, still clouded by love and the afterglow of your orgasm.

"Why are you still friends with Yuna?" His gaze was intense for a moment before softening again. "I don't think she's... good for you."

Soon after, hot acid roiled in your gut. The chill that ran down your spine felt like nails against a chalkboard.

Everything came crashing down.

"She's just gonna keep hurting you," he continued, carding his fingers through your hair. When all you could do was stare at him, Sunghoon took that as his cue to settle back into bed and nestle his chin into the crook of your neck. "Just think about it, okay?"

"Wait—is that why you came over?" you asked, hardly audible, and you weren't exactly sure if Sunghoon even caught your words.

"Huh?" He rubbed his eyes, his voice muffled with sleep. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you down by his side. "Let's just go to bed, baby. We can talk tomorrow."

Stiff and unwilling, your body hardly relaxed in his hold. You complied all the same, though, because your shock was so immense that no words came to mind. All you could do was close your eyes and will your tears away before your boyfriend noticed that you were crying.

Hysteria rose in your throat, but before the hilarity and absolute despair of the situation was about to overtake you, odd numbness filled your body instead.

You were questioning everything—questioning your feelings for Sunghoon, questioning his feelings for you.

And maybe those weren't butterflies in your stomach, after all. Maybe they were moths, fluttering erratically in the direction of a light that would only burn them.

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen smau #jay smut #jay smau #jay imagines #enhypen social media au #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #jay scenarios #jongseong smut #park jongseong #jay park #jay hard hours #enhypen hard hours

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rxmqnova · 2 months

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Could i asked for a ScarLizzie x daughter reader fic please?

Lizzie is finally introducing R to her girlfriend Scarlett for the first time. (Hectic filming schedules have gotten in the way of the three meeting up)

R is deaf and Scarlett has been learning sign language in secret and both mother and daughter are delighted.

Scarlett soon becomes R's favourite person (other than her mummy of course). "You're nicer than daddy".

Or something like that

Please and thank you 😊

Favorite person

Y/N: 7 years old ——————————————————

NO ONE'S POV The day has finally come. Lizzie's introducing her girlfriend to her little daughter.

Scarlett and Lizzie have been dating for nearly a year now. Lizzie wanted to be sure with her relationship before she would introduce Scarlett to her daughter and when she finally decided it's time, her hectic filming schedule just didn't allow it.

But it's here now and Y/N's going to meet the woman that won her mother's heart. Y/N's been super excited to meet her mommy's girlfriend. She knows a lot about Scarlett from Lizzie, even saw some pictures of her and it's finally about to happen.

One thing leaves Scarlett nervous though… Y/N doesn't hear. Ever since Lizzie told her she's been learning sign language. And to be honest, she's doing quite well, yet she's still a little nervous about it.

Y/N's currently in the living room, playing with her toys while Lizzie's finishing cooking dinner. Hearing the doorbell Lizzie goes to open, smiling at the sight of her daughter while walking around her.

Lizzie greets her girlfriend with a hug and a kiss before she leads her to the living room where the little troublemaker is.

As soon as Y/N notices a movement in the living room, she lifts her eyes from the ground, locking them with her mommy's girlfriend's.

Before Lizzie can start signing her daughter anything, Scarlett stops her.

"I'll do it" Scarlett smiles, taking a deep breath before looking at the tiny girl in front of her. "Hi, Y/N. I'm Scarlett. It's so nice to meet you" Scarlett signs, Y/N immediately smiling widely.

Y/N signs 'nice to meet you too' back, making Scarlett smile even more while Lizzie is completely shocked.

"Since when you know ASL?" Lizzie asks confused.

"I started learning when you told me about Y/N" Scarlett smiles and just this gesture makes Lizzie fall in love with the blonde even more.

Everything goes great, the three have dinner together, Y/N and Scarlett always smiling at each other when they lock eyes.

———

Scarlett has surely become Y/N's favorite person, beside her mommy of course, and even best friends over the time Scarlett's been coming over every now and then.

The little Olsen is one hundred percent sure that Scarlett is the best one for her mommy and that made Lizzie really happy when Y/N admitted it a few days ago.

Scarlett's over right now, watching Y/N and playing with her as Lizzie needed to leave to buy some groceries as the fridge is completely empty.

Somehow Y/N ends up sitting on Scarlett's lap while playing which the blonde doesn't mind at all. She loves Y/N as her own already and the fact that Y/N feels comfortable around her makes her happy.

All of a sudden Y/N looks up at the older woman, giving her an adorable smile which Scarlett returns.

"You're nicer than daddy" Y/N signs, warming Scarlett's heart while tears fill her eyes.

Y/N's father isn't the best, but also isn't the worst. He stops by every now and then to check up on his daughter, yet Y/N isn't as comfortable around him as she is around Scarlett.

Scarlett can't help but just pull the tiny girl in for a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. And once they pull away, she signs her response. "You're the sweetest little girl I've ever met. I love you, Y/N"

And she means every single word. Y/N really has a special place in her heart by now, just like Scarlett does in Y/N's.

"I love you too" Y/N smiles adorably, melting Scarlett's heart even more.

What they don't know is that Lizzie's already standing at the doorframe. She's seen the whole interaction and she couldn't be more happy.

Both girls notice when Lizzie approaches them, taking a seat next to them.

"I love you both so much" Lizzie smiles, saying it out loud while signing and making both of her girls smile widely before Y/N practically jumps into her mommy's arms to give her a cuddle and show her how much she loves her.

It's safe to say that Y/N's absolutely thrilled about her mommy having such an amazing girlfriend who's so far the best friend she's ever had, except for her mommy of course.

They surely have a bright time ahead of them and all three are more than excited to see what the future holds for them.

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ScarLizzie masterlist

Masterlist

#elizabeth olsen #scarlett johansson #elizabeth olsen daughter #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen #lizzie olsen x you #lizzie olsen x reader #lizzie x reader #scarlizzie #scarlett x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson fanfiction #scarlett johansson daughter #fanfiction #fanfic

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crosshairlovebot · 2 months

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welcome home / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: you return home to find hunter in the shower, and he shows you just how much he missed you while he was gone.

word count: 4,036

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. heavy scent kink. plot only if you squint. p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). slight overstimulation. lots of kissing. slight body worship. cr*ampie.

the need to write a part two to that hunter smut a couple of weeks ago was so strong there was no avoiding it. the hunter feels gripped me so hard they're shaking me around like a rag doll. i have never written a full smut sequence like this before, so please bear with me if it's not as perfect as i would like! i'm doing my best!

although the previous part (which is not essential to read to understand this) was written with gender-neutral pronouns, this part is with a female reader. i wanted to make sure i could actually write a scene like this since i've never done it before. gender-neutral smut is something i'd like to try in the future once i feel more comfortable writing in this style :)

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You rode the slightly odorous lift up to your apartment floor, the doors sliding open slowly once it arrived. The hallway light flickered every minute or two as you approached the door to your humble abode, your body aching after working more overtime than you should’ve stayed for. Yawning, you pressed in the code before promptly walking into the still-closed door with a thud.

You frowned, suddenly more alert. You checked the panel and saw that you had just locked your apartment, not unlocked it. Living on Coruscant – especially in an area not known for being the safest corner of the planetary city – had informally trained you to watch for your safety almost constantly. And the possibility that your door may have been unlocked by someone who may or may not be waiting inside to hurt you was a red flag.

Heart beating faster, you pressed your ear up against the door, to see if you could hear anyone and your eyes widened when you heard a faint groan coming from inside.

Panic began to course through your veins, and you debated whether or not you should call the authorities before deciding against it. They wouldn’t get here in time to be of any use, and so many crimes happened on Coruscant that you doubted anyone would even come at all.

Instead, you steeled yourself and then typed in the code again.

Save for the single lamp you always left on; the apartment was dark. The yellow light bathed the small space in a soft glow that made everything look a little less like a standard-issue Coruscanti apartment and a little more like a home. You quietly dropped your bag by the door, picked up a vase from the entryway and crept into your apartment. It was then you heard the shower running and the soft hum of a smokey tenor echo through the apartment. Your shoulders instantly relaxed.

There was only one person who would break into your apartment and take a shower.

You placed the vase down on the kitchen bench, a smile biting the corners of your mouth as you walked to your small ensuite bathroom, the humming getting louder. Your smile only got wider when you saw his armour stacked neatly next to the dresser. You could hear the hum louder from here, and your heart squeezed itself against your ribs. He was happy.

You opened the door slowly, knocking softly even though he would sense you were there as soon as the door opened. “Hunter?”

The humming stopped and Hunter’s wet head poked around the shower curtain. If he was a sight when he was dry, he was completely ethereal when wet. His hair stuck around his shoulders and neck, water dripping down his tattooed face onto his neck. He smiled out the side of his mouth, eyes bright at the sight of you. “Hey, you.”

You grinned, just as pleased to see him. “Hey. You’re back.”

“I am.”

You nodded to the steaming shower. “Can I join you?”

He wordlessly pulled back the shower curtain as his answer, revealing half of his bare muscular body. You undressed quickly, piling your clothes on top of his blacks that had been kicked near the privy before stepping in with him. Almost instantly, you were engulfed in Hunter’s arms, his wet body pressed against yours as he pushed his nose into your neck, breathing deeply.

“Someone missed me,” you smiled, hands holding his upper arms and squeezing them gently.

You felt his breath on your neck as he nuzzled his nose against your skin. It was always the first thing he did when he saw you. “You have no idea how much,” the words buzzing against your skin.

At the feel of his half-hard length pressed into your stomach, and you chuckled. “I think I can guess.”

Hunter trailed his hands down your body, nose still buried in your neck. He loved the way you smelled. Something about it drove him crazy, though you weren’t sure what it was specifically. But you’d never complain.

You felt him pull you closer, and his wet hair fell onto your shoulder as he dragged his hands up and down your thighs and hips. The water cascaded over you both, and when his hand dipped between your bodies down to the place between your legs, you tipped your head forward to rest on his shoulder as you moaned. “Hunter,” you choked out as his hand moved in slow circles there, and you felt yourself slicken at the touch.

Hunter pressed light kisses to your neck and shoulder, marking a trail up to your ear with his lips. “Been waiting for you to get back.” His voice was ragged like he’d been running, rasping out of him all breathy.

His fingers still moved slowly between you, and you whimpered before telling him quietly. “I thought someone had broken in.”

Hunter pulled back to look at you, his hand stilling as he searched your face with a crease between his brow. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sorry, cyari’ka, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and looked in his brown-grey eyes as steam continued to rise from the running water. “I heard a loud groan…what were you doing?”

The corner of Hunter’s mouth lifted before those eyes of his darkened. “What do you think?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.

You hummed. The idea of him getting off in your shower as he waited for you to come home conjured up so many salacious images in your mind you had to squeeze his arms to steady yourself. The thought of him in here, cock in his hand as he stroked himself to just your scent…it only made the arousal building inside you burn hotter.

“Couldn’t wait for me?” You croaked out.

“Kriff, no. As soon as I stepped inside you were everywhere,” he continued his kisses, sucking at your jaw. “And it only got stronger. Every breath I took you were there, inside my lungs, seeping into my skin. You know how insane you make me, and it’s been months…” He drew back and brushed his nose against yours. “Are you mad?”

“God, no,” you breathed against his lips.

“Good.”

Hunter finally kisses your mouth then. His mouth slants over yours and it’s impossible not to moan into it. His tongue moves over your lips and slides against yours. To think when you met him, he had no idea how to kiss and now he knew the inside of your mouth better than you did.

He groaned into the kiss, and you knew his senses were in overdrive right now, the hot wet of your mouth only driving him crazier. He pushed you back against the tile, his solid body trapping you between the cool of the tile and the heat of his skin. His hands gripped your hips as you snaked one leg around his. With his now hard length pressing between you, it was so close to where you needed it. You arched into him, the need to have him as close as humanly possible so intense you could comprehend nothing but Hunter’s kisses and hands as he did everything he could to consume every part of you. Your only thought was how badly you wanted him to.

You had missed him too, after all.

Your hands went into his hair, tugging at the wet strands as he continued to explore your mouth. He broke away but only to resume his kisses down your neck, his tongue lolling out to lick the skin and the droplets of water in between the kisses. Steam from the water clouded your vision, or was that because of the sensation of Hunter’s hands against you? You didn’t know. You moaned as his kisses travelled down your torso.

“Hunter,” you choked out as you watched him lower to his knees in front of you.

“Missed you so much,” he said again, the words vibrating against your skin.

You caressed his temple with your thumb. “I missed you.”

He groaned loudly against the skin of your stomach. “You smell incredible.”

You whimpered, so incredibly turned on as he moved his mouth down, his lips dragging across your skin, and you watched him descend lower, his eyes half closed and rolling back. You could see just how hard he was, up against his stomach. The water continued to flow down his shoulders and half-tattooed torso, down into the hair that covered most of his front.

You raked your fingers through his hair, nails against his scalp and you felt his moan on your stomach, and the sound ignited your insides with desire. It felt like your whole body was electrified, pulsing with need and he’d barely even done anything.

“Hunter, more, please,” you breathed out.

Hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He groaned, standing up and shutting the water off as he kissed you once more. He pulled back, sliding the shower curtain roughly across its pole before picking you up effortlessly. Your arms and legs went around him as he buried his nose in your neck again as he walked to your bed, both of you still dripping wet but neither of you caring enough to do anything about it.

Hunter lay you down gently, moving you up to the pillows as he climbed on top of you. His hair fell forward, dripping onto your chest and he leaned down to suck the droplets off your skin.

You moaned as his mouth travelled to your neck again, kissing you there, his lips sucking gently, and you knew there would be a nice mark there tomorrow that you would grumble about trying to cover for work. But right now, the idea of him laying a claim to you made every nerve ending in your body tingle, especially the ones between your legs.

His lips then made their way to your chest, and he moved to one breast, taking the nipple between his teeth, making you whine before he circled his tongue around it, sucking gently. Your back arched off the bed and you felt his hand slide underneath you, between your shoulder blades, drawing you into his mouth more. He sucked gently, then moved on to the other one, repeating the same ministrations with his tongue.

You panted, mewling with every pinch of his teeth grazing your nipple. He was taking his time with you, as usual, savouring every single part of you. You knew he’d be tired after spending months completing gruelling missions, but he was still eager to pleasure you slowly, work you up until you were begging for a release only he could give.

Exhausted, but never for you.

He released your breast, wetness from his mouth glistening the peak in the dim light. He continued down once again, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he lowered himself between your legs.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with want before he sat back on his heels to spread your legs a little wider, holding the inside of your thighs down with his hands. His thumbs circled the soft skin there as he gazed at you all spread out for him.

He looked beautiful like his. His brown skin illuminated only by the light that managed to creep through the blinds, his tattoo etched down one side of his body which still shined with the water from the shower. His cock was so hard with need, precum already pooling at the tip – you’ve barely even touched him. He was just worked up over touching you, breathing you in. He was average in length, but his thickness set him apart from any other sexual partner you’ve had. You ached to feel it inside you, but if he was taking his sweet time with you, it would be a while before you felt him stretch you.

Hunter was nothing if not thorough.

“Hunter…” you whined, sitting up on your elbows.

“Look so pretty like this,” he told you, not an ounce of insincerity in his tone as he crept down to his elbows, arms wrapping under and around your thighs as he pushed his nose against your centre. He breathed in deeply, and the groan that erupted from the back of his throat buzzed against your core.

“So good…” he murmured as he pushed his nose against your clit, making you jerk. He placed a kiss there before gently bringing it into his mouth to suck. You cry out, hips bucking up into his nose and he moans again before his mouth finally moves over you completely.

You arch your back off the bed as his tongue moves artfully against you. The sensation continued to stoke the fire that had been building the minute he wrapped his arms around you in the shower. You moved your hands to his hair, clutching the roots with your fingers and pushing him closer as he licked and sucked like a man starved. And in a way he was. Your hand was no substitute for this. He licked a line up, before bringing his lips around the bud again and sucking gently. You couldn’t think about anything but his hot mouth and tongue against you. You ground into his mouth, needing more friction as the pleasure began to build in your belly, coiling in hot spirals as Hunter continued. He groaned into you through his ministrations, and when he felt you clench on his tongue, he pulled you impossibly closer to his mouth as he moved his tongue faster. Your breaths filled the room, pants loud and moans echoing in the space. You could feel the mattress move underneath you and you looked down at him with hooded eyes to see him rutting against the mattress, getting off to the pleasure he was giving you.

“Hunter, please, I’m so—” Your words were barely audible, but Hunter knew what you meant as he pressed his tongue harder against you, bringing your clit into his mouth and sucking one more time, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. You cried out, the band inside you snapping as pleasure erupted.

Your back arched and you cried out his name like it was an incantation, over and over as he continued to move his tongue through your undoing, groaning against you as you came all over his tongue. Your hands tight in his hair, you tugged as you shuddered underneath him until the tremors slowed, and you lay breathless, limbs heavy. You looked down at him as he emerged from between your legs, mouth glistening with your come, coating his lips and chin. He licked his lips and groaned. The sight of it was so obscene you felt your body flush.

“Good girl,” he told you before he climbed over you, capturing your mouth in a kiss. You could taste yourself in his mouth and you moaned at the way his fingers briefly dipped inside you. “So good for me,” he told you against your lips. “Always so good.”

“Need you inside me,” you mumbled back.

Hunter groaned and you watched as he drew back to lean on his heels again, using the fingers he’d just brushed through your folds to lubricate his length. He hissed as he circled the tip and down the shaft before he coated his fingers again and slid them in his mouth, sucking them gently with his eyes closed, savouring the taste. You watched him, mesmerised.

Was this man really yours?

He positioned himself at your entrance, holding himself above you with strong arms, face over yours. His eyes were so intense, their brown-grey colour boring into you. He gave you a look, one that differed from the wanting gaze he’d been giving you. This look was one of tenderness, one that asked if you were still good – still okay with this. You nodded and he pressed his lips against yours once more before he eased himself inside you.

You gasped as you stretched around him, clawing at his shoulders as you locked your legs around his. He groaned as he bottomed out, filling you completely. He caught his breath and when you clenched around him, he made a choking sound, swearing.

“Been too long,” he whispered.

“Too long,” you repeated before he drew himself back out slowly. He pushed his nose into your shoulder again as he groaned loudly. Then he slowly began thrusting, the sounds of your moans and groans filling the room, along with the indecent sound of his skin hitting yours as his movements increased in speed.

“Hunter,” you moaned his name, and he groaned in response. His hands found your hips and he adjusted his position so he could reach deeper, and he continued to roll his hips against you, your hands clutching at his forearms as the headboard hit the wall repeatedly.

Sex with Hunter always felt amazing. Full of the kind of passion that almost didn’t feel real. It was full of moans and groans and tantalising touches that built you up and up so when you finally let go, the fall felt so good it was almost immeasurable. It was filled with kisses and though he wasn’t much of a talker, he would whisper how good you felt against him. No matter how rough he was being, you felt safe in his hands and cared for – he made sure of that. Being in the throes of pleasure with Hunter was an all-consuming feeling for you both, one that you relished whenever you got the chance. His time home was so fleeting, that anything you could both do to tell each other how much you missed the other, how much you loved the other, you would do. Later, you would use your words. But right now, your bodies spoke instead; each press, clench, shudder, whimper, and groan said the words for you both.

You could feel those familiar hot coils building again each time he buried himself in you, and you could feel his movements falter slightly as he came closer to his own release. He’d come up from your neck again and you looked up at him, mouth agape as his hair, now half dry, fell over his handsome face and the curled ends tickled your cheeks. You reached up and placed some behind his ear, hand cupping his jaw.

“Hunter—”

Hunter nodded quickly, eyes dark and pupils blown. “I know.”

Of course, he did. His senses were so in tune with your body he could feel the subtle changes of your arousal and smell the way your body was on the precipice of falling.

Hunter’s hands held your hips and the headboard, and he rocked himself into you, faster this time. He panted, a husky noise from the back of his throat sounding with each thrust as he brought you closer. You rasped out a string of yeses as the sensation that had been building rose to its peak. You locked your legs around his thighs, clawing at his back as you clenched hard around him, crying out.

Your back arched into him, fingernails forming crescent moon carvings in the skin of his arms as you shuddered against him. His name fell from your lips as you writhed underneath him, riding out your orgasm as he continued to sink into you on the verge of overstimulation.

“Come on, cyare,” you whispered to him as you were still trembling. "Still got my implant."

It wasn’t a second later until he gave a ragged cry as he stilled, spilling inside you. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth gritted as he groaned loudly – the way you had heard him through the apartment door before. Half collapsing on top of you, he pushed his face into your shoulder again, this time biting the skin there as his thrusts became languid, drawing out as much of his release as possible. You hissed as his teeth claimed your skin, but no matter how worked up Hunter was, he always made sure his bites weren’t too hard.

When Hunter’s shudders stopped, both of you caught your breath. You could feel his breath tickle your shoulder, and this was the first time since you’d been home that you registered the familiar musky smell of his skin. You smiled and kissed his shoulder while he was still on top of you, the tangy taste of his sweat on your lips.

Hunter slowly emerged from your shoulder and looked down at you, eyelids heavy and hair all tangled. You smiled, still dazed, and reached up to push it out of his face, tucking it behind his ear again. He smiled warmly at you before kissing the inside of your wrist.

He hissed as he pulled out of you, and the loss of him down there was so prominent you felt an ache. Hunter rolled off you and lay beside you on his stomach for a minute, his eyes drooping shut for a moment before he forced them open again.

“Hang on,” he said and kissed your shoulder lightly before pushing himself up and heading into the bathroom. You giggled as you heard the cupboard door open and shut before the tap turned on. You turned on your side, still half-limp, watching him wet a towel and then re-enter the room.

He sat next to you as he wiped between your legs sleepily, the warm towel a gentle caress on your skin before he placed it on the bedside table and lay down next to you.

You smiled and pulled the covers back so you could get under them together. They were damp from your hasty decision to not dry off beforehand, but they would dry as you slept. You watched as Hunter nestled himself in the mattress, eyes closing, but when you didn’t move closer to him immediately, he peeked an eye open. He reached out to you under the covers, with a frown.

“Come,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“I did. Twice,” you smirked as you let his hands circle your arms and pull you in closer.

“Shuddup,” he slurred, but he still smiled, kissing your temple as he tucked you against his chest. You breathed in the scent of him as you rested your head on him.

You chuckled. “You smell like me.”

“Good. Need to smell like you forever,” he pushed his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath in. “What is the name of this soap, anyway? Gonna place an order.”

You laughed. You loved he was like this – all soft and sleepy after you’d come together. It was a side only you saw, the shedding of that broody exterior he reserved for his service to reveal the tenderness that was a secret for your eyes only. “I think it’s generic brand vanilla and starflower.”

“Smells fucking incredible,” Hunter mumbled, making you laugh again. You kissed his chest and after a moment of silence where all you did was breathe together, he said, “You okay? I didn’t plan to do all that the second I saw you.”

You smiled. No matter how exhausted he was, he always had to check in with you.

“I’m really, really okay, Hunter,” you told him. “There are worse ways to be greeted upon returning home.”

“I at least wanted one conversation with you before I had my way with you,” Hunter murmured in your skin, kissing your shoulder again, this time where he had bitten you, his lips soothing the slight ache there.

“Talking is overrated,” you joked with a shrug, snuggling into his chest. You felt it thrum with a deep chuckle. He knew you loved to hear him talk.

“Tomorrow, we can talk. I have so much to tell you,” he breathed, lips brushing your temple.

You smiled. “Me too. Tomorrow.” You patted his chest gently. “Sleep now, cyare. I know you’re exhausted.”

Hunter hummed, on the cusp of slumber. “Tomorrow.” You felt his body relax. “Love you, cyare,” he mumbled into your hair.

You heard his breathing become deep and even, his chest rising and falling, his heartbeat steady against your palms. You smiled, closing your eyes. “Love you more.”

banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3 again, this is my first time writing a full smut scene like this so feedback (delivered kindly) is really appreciated!!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook

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beelmons · 1 year

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Dr. Reid's Lonely Hearts Club

Genre: smut, light fluff at the end Pairing: spencer x hotch x fem!BAU!reader word count: 6,650 cw: threesome, vaginal penetration, facefucking, light bondage, slight degradation, alcohol consumption A/N: this is just absolutely pure filth and I'm both sorry and not sorry. Happy Valentine's to all singles out there surviving on self insert smut fics! Summary: When everyone gets the evening off, only three people remain in the office, the lonely hearts come together to not feel so alone on the most romantic day of the year. Tag list: @ssamorganhotchner @hotchxreid @cassiemartzz @supercriminalbean @evee87

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Tap, tap, tap, tap.

“Jesus, Reid! Can you stop that?!” Emily yelled towards the young genius, and he ended up jumping in fear on his own chair. The poor guy was simply tapping his pen against the surface of the desk while he pondered over some details of the case they had just wrapped up. “Sorry.” Emily said again once he noticed both Morgan and Hotch coming out of their offices to oversee the ruckus on the bullpen “Sorry, Spencer, I’m just a little antsy, I have a date tonight and I’m really hoping I don’t need to cancel it. Sorry, everyone.” She said again looking apologetically at the rest of the coworkers.

“Alright, enough is enough.” Hotch mentioned from the handrail outside his door “It’s 5p.m., we’re clearly not getting a new case tonight, and any paperwork left can be finished tomorrow. Anyone with Valentine’s Day plans can go home. Have a lovely evening.” your boss waved his hand dismissingly, and you watched as almost every person bolted out of their seats and towards the elevator. You waved goodbye at your girlfriends shouting ‘bye!’ and ‘have a great night!’ with bright smiles on their way out.

Hotch went back into his office, and only Spencer and you remained by your desks, exchanging equally disappointed looks. “No plans?” you asked.

“Have I ever had plans?” Reid answered with a slightly embarrassed smile. You offered him one of your own and a nod in agreement before going back to the files on the wooden surface. You reached to grab a couple from Emily’s desk, if you were going to spend your night like that, might as well help your friends out; you would be able to check that favor in some other time. Spencer smiled at your actions and did the same with some of the files from JJ’s desk.

Aaron was shut inside his private workplace, devouring file after file of piled up work for what felt like two or three hours. With his eyes strained, he decided to take a walk to the kitchen and get some extra coffee to burn the midnight oil. When he stepped outside the door, however, he stopped right on his tracks. “What are you two doing?” he asked as he stared at Reid’s desk.

You had dragged your chair to be sitting on the other side of your friend’s table, the surface covered in different Chinese dishes still in their take-out containers, behind them a bottle of rum that was clearly drank from, and some Hershey’s kisses wrappers scattered around, you were laughing soundly together, talking about random Valentine’s Day experiences.

“Hey! Look who's finally out of the man cave!” you said with a smile, raising your hands in the air victoriously “We’re having ourselves a little Valentine’s Day dinner, courtesy of Dr. Reid’s Lonely Hearts Club, if you got a partner, you are not invited. Care to join us?” you added. Spencer was looking at him expectantly, and Hotch let out a defeated sigh before heading downstairs and pulling a chair to sit in front of the two of you. You handed him a container with a pair of chopsticks on top. “Pekin duck. I know you like it.” you mentioned.

“I don’t think the rum is a good idea.” he replied, grabbing the food from you.

“Come on, it’s after 8.” you complained.

“It is morally questionable, but since we’re off the clock we’re technically not breaking any rules. Not any that we can be reprimanded for, at least.” Reid added. “Plus, we got you scotch in case you didn’t want rum.” he continued, bending his body to pick up a bottle of acceptable whiskey from the floor.

“Relax, Hotch, no boss scolding, no dad speeches, just friends making each other company on the loneliest night for single people.” as you spoke, you were opening the bottle of his preferred liquor and pouring a glass, or rather a coffee mug, with a couple ice cubes. After having served a considerable amount, you handed him the mug and your hand squeezed his thigh in a friendly manner, however a little bit higher than you usually would. He scoffed at the comment and took a sip out of the container.

“How come you don’t have any plans tonight?” your boss asked.

“I usually spend Valentine’s Day with my mom, but I couldn’t get a ticket without making sure we would be in town.” Spencer said absentmindedly while he rummaged through his food. Both of you looked at him questioningly, and he responded with a confused stare.

Hotch gave up without even trying to explain that the question wasn’t, obviously, directed at him, instead his head turned towards you “and how come you don’t have plans tonight?” he asked once again.

“Nuh-uh” you answered with a sarcastic tone “If we’re drinking, I’m not answering anything unless we play a game.”

“A game? What, are we 15?” Hotch asked.

“I was thinking a little bit more like 20, you know, r-rated questions might be included” you answered.

“So, we’re not horny teenagers, we’re horny college kids.” your boss reiterated, and you nodded along “and you’re okay with this?” he turned to Spencer to double check.

“I never really got to play drinking games in college, so this should be interesting” his head wobbled excitedly.

“That’s because you were fourteen, Reid,” you joked, earning a chuckle from Hotch in the process “Okay fellas, since it’s Valentine’s let’s go with a spicy game, so we have ‘Never have I ever’, ‘Strip poker’, or ‘Truth or Dare’. Spencer, since it’s your first time, why don’t you choose first?”

Your partner fiddled with the chopsticks in his hands, lips pursed pretending to ever consider it “Strip poker.” he stated with an innocent and hopeful smile. You and Aaron broke into a surprised and nervous laugh, you exchanged looks for a second and decided that, well, even if stripping in your office wasn’t on your bucket-list, it would still make an interesting anecdote.

Big mistake. You forgot two very important facts: one, doctor Reid was banned from every casino in Las Vegas, and two, when men play this game with a woman involved, they tend to team up with a very clear purpose in mind. After just ten minutes of playing, your bra was on full display, blazer, blouse and shoes long gone, yet managing to keep your lower clothing intact. Hotch remained with his white button-up shirt and pants, and Reid only having lost as much as his sweater vest.

“Full house.” Aaron said as he opened his cards, clearly beating Reid’s straight. He turned to look at you, eyeing your last garment, but a pleading expression appeared on your face and caused him to chuckle. “Alright, I’m using my winning privileges to change the game. Let’s do Never Haver I ever.” you put your hands together thankfully, and Spencer huffed his cheeks in disappointment.

You took a moment to top everyone’s drink up, and after you had taken a sip, you began to talk “Never have I ever had a sexual fantasy with someone from the office.” you said and watched with amusement how both of your friends sipped at their drinks, regardless of you being the question host, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t, so you had to take a sip was well.

“Never have I ever gotten a lap dance.” was Spencer’s turn to speak, and both your boss and you had to drink. He appeared to be embarrassed at the fact of being the only one left out, and you chuckled at his cute expression.

“Never have I ever…” Hotch began “…had a threesome.” there was a bit of an awkward silence as you stared at each other intently, noticing how none of you would bring the mug to your lips.

“Never have I ever wanted a threesome.” you dared to ask during your turn, and in perfect unison the three of you downed a bit of your beverages. There was an exchange of looks afterwards, and your brains all seemed to be working in the same direction.

“Never have I ever felt sexual attraction for a person in this room.” Reid asked, and yet again the entire group drank up.

Hotch’s throat cleared up, and being the voice of reason, aware that you were still in an FBI building, he decided to take the questioning in another direction. “Never have I ever done a body shot.” he said.

“Taken off of me? Or me taking it from someone else’s body?” you asked trying to clarify the question “Actually, you know what? Doesn’t matter, just remembered I’ve done both.” you answered yourself nonchalantly and proceeded to take the corresponding liquid; to your surprise, however, you saw how both of your companions remained still. “Wait, for real?” you asked, taking turns to look at both of them.

Spencer simply shook his head, lips pursed, and Hotch shrugged it off “I wasn’t really a frat party guy.” the older man admitted.

“Come on. Unacceptable.” you stood up and grabbed the bottle of rum in your hands. You looked around, Spencer’s desk was a mess, so you decided to move over to Emily’s ‘she will understand’ you told yourself. The two men followed you with puzzled expressions. You laid down on top of your friend’s workspace, still shirtless, and pointed in the direction of your boss “Let’s go old school for you.” you said with a smirk as you bent the bottle over your stomach, letting some of the liquid fall and spill over your belly button.

Hotch cocked an eyebrow, but curiosity got the best of him. He unbuttoned the top part of his shirt, a clear attempt to not mess it up, and took a step closer. You could feel his lips land on your stomach, and the way his tongue dug in the concave area caused a slight moan to come out of your mouth, your hand lowering to land on the nape of his neck, keeping his head in place. After he was done sucking the liquid, he pressed a couple of open mouthed kisses higher up your stomach, and stopped himself right before your chest.

“I can see the appeal of that.” he muttered while wiping his mouth to get rid of some of the dripping liquor. He turned to look at Reid, who was watching the situation with a flustered face, and signaled for him to take his turn. Startled, the blond man hurried to your side, but before he let the fluid down your body, you darted up to be sitting instead.

“Hold on, I have something else in mind for the doctor.” you stopped him, a mischievous smile on your face. You fixed your position and tilted your head to expose the right side of your neck, your finger pointed at the base, indicating that he should put his mouth there. He complied to your instructions, positioning his head at the base with an open mouth, he proceeded to tilt the bottle letting the rum slide down the side of your neck directly into it. Once he had enough of the drink, he laid the bottle back onto the desk, his hands instinctively gripped the sides of your hips to keep you still as he licked the trail of wetness the alcohol had left on your neck; he mimicked Aaron’s actions and sneaked a couple of nibbles to the sides of your neck. In the heat of the moment, and with his blood rushing everywhere, he lifted his head and attempted to capture your lips in a kiss.

Your reflexes were fast, and before he could land them on you, your hand came in between. “Ah, ah!” you exclaimed with provocation in your voice “If you want to go there, then we’re going to have to change the game.” you pushed him slightly by his chest and he retracted his hands, stepping back with a slight hint of embarrassment in his face, at which Hotch smirked; he found fascinating how you had him on his toes since the very first moment. “That leaves us with Truth or Dare, doesn’t it?” you clarified “Since it’s my turn, I’ll go first. Say, Reid, Truth or dare?” you turned to face the slender figure in front of you.

“Truth.” he said convincedly, his hands undoing a couple of his buttons to allow for the cool air to enter.

“Out of every girl in the office, who would you like to fuck the most?” you batted your eyes at him, your legs swinging as they hung from the desk you were still sitting on.

He took a second and licked his lips before he answered, apparently unwavering “You.” he let out after some thought.

Next to you, you could hear Aaron scoff “Playboy.” he muttered “We know it’s JJ.” he added.

“A liar, just like any other man” you joked, but instead a frown formed on the doctor’s face.

“Alright, enough.” he fixed his eyes on yours “Truth or dare?” he asked.

“Dare” you said with a cocky smile.

“Take off those pants.” Spencer commanded. Hotch raised his eyebrows, intrigued by the proposal.

“You’ve been waiting for that since strip poker, haven’t you?” you snarked at him “Okay, pretty boy, but I get to help you strike one of your ‘never have I ever’ experiences.” Without further explanation, you hopped off the surface and took his hand to pull him along as you walked to your chairs. The second you were in front of them, you pushed him back until his legs hit the edge of the seat, forcing him to fall onto it. Before Spencer could understand what was happening, your back was already facing him, and your ass was grinding on his lap.

Hotch had taken his seat as well, legs spread open with his hand dangerously close to his own crotch, simply admiring the way you moved on top of the youngest. Your body rolled as you danced teasingly over Reid, your pants slowly coming further down until your ass was on full display, only covered by the panties you had chosen for that day. You turned yet again to lay your knees on each side of the seat, straddling his front, your eyes lustfully staring into his as your fingers worked to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt. “And to prove you I’m a good sport, I’m going to throw in something extra.” you smiled at him and shortly your lips were onto his, from the beginning, the kiss was sloppy and open-mouthed, your tongues tangling together as they moved hungrily.

His hands, out of habit, lifted to land on your ass, and you swatted at them with a disapproving sound. “I didn’t say you could touch.” he winced in protest at your words, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to keep them to himself. Instead, you reached out for the desk in which your belongings still laid and took a hold of the handcuffs you used to carry. You distracted him with your lips once again, having him focusing only on the kiss, he didn’t notice when your hands caressed down his arms to place them behind the chair, and it wasn’t until he heard the clicking of the cuffs that he broke away from it.

“What are you doing?” he asked with startled eyes.

“Making sure you behave.” you answered, your head tilting to have your mouth on the side of his neck instead, nibbling on a spot like he had done before on yours. His eyes fluttered closed, just allowing himself to enjoy the warm sensation of your tongue on his skin, your hips occasionally rolling on his crotch, which felt tighter by the second.

“Hey, Reid” the both of you were slightly startled by Hotch’s voice coming behind you, but you kept going into providing your friend some friction; Spencer on the other hand replied with a questioning hum “Truth or dare?” Aaron asked.

“D-Dare” he barely managed to stutter out. The second he got his answer, the boss stood up from his seat, his hands working on undoing the pieces of clothing that were holding his member captive. Once his underwear was moved aside, his cock slapped against his stomach, slightly pink from the way he was rubbing it over his pants during your little lap dance.

He walked in your direction and landed a hand on your ass gently, giving it a light squeeze to enjoy the sensation of your soft skin, then they travelled up to grab the hem of your panties, pulling them down to your thigh level. He gripped at your hips to draw them up, causing your ass to perk up and your clothed chest to be pressed further against Reid’s. His fingers curiously travelled in between your legs, and you could feel his thumb press flat against your slippery slick.

Your lips had moved back to Spencer’s, and a moan got caught up on your throat at Aaron’s touch. You broke the kiss to look back with surprise in your eyes. You watched him bring the fluid-covered thumb to his mouth and taste you with utter excitement.

“I dare you to watch me fuck her first.” he stated with his eyes completely fixed on yours as he finished removing the shirt that still covered his torso. You couldn’t really process what he had just said, and what was even more puzzling was, now that you had gotten a good look at his dick, how were you going to take all of him?

He didn’t give you much time to keep thinking before you could feel him entering you. His hand pumping the base of his own member until it was covered by your pussy, however, he allowed a couple of seconds for you to get used to his size. As you felt him slide into you, your hands traveled up to tangle on Spencer’s hair, clutching on it for dear life, your head laid on his shoulder and you let out a loud, high pitched moan, at the feeling of being full of your boss.

You could hear Spencer wiggle beneath you, trying to get rid of the cuffs that were holding him back. He exchanged a look with Hotch, an almost offended one, and the older man answered with pressing his index finger to his lips, indicating the younger to keep quiet “Watch and learn.” with those words, his hips began to move. He was slow and gentle at first, causing you to be panting against your friend’s neck softly, but not long after his pace began to pick up.

The entire office was quiet not being for the loud smacks of Aaron’s balls against your skin. His cock hitting your deepest sides over and over again. You held onto Reid for balance, your hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders to prop yourself up. You face was right in front of him, your mouth slightly parted open letting the noises flow, your forehead laid on top of his, and you stared into his eyes, showing you just how good your boss was fucking you.

You let out a cry after a particularly rough thrust that Hotch hit you with, and Spencer took the advantage to lean up and press his lips back onto yours, nibbling and twisting his tongue around like his life depended on it. He didn’t like feeling left out, so he was trying his best to shower every bit of the skin he had access to with sloppy and wet kisses.

Perhaps Hotch was going too hard on him, his dick still pounding against you at a steady pace, and having his subordinate confined to a chair, fucking the girl he clearly liked. With a rough tug, he ripped the safety pins of your bra open, and from the movement of having your hips repeatedly pummeled, they bounced off the garment on their own. You leaned forward so they would be dangling over Spencer’s face, the new angle not only allowing your dark-haired partner to access new angles, but also gave the doctor chance to catch one of your nipples into his mouth.

He was sloppy, but never carless, his tongue moved around your breast, hungrily, the noises of sucking and popping filling your ears along with Aaron’s growls that, you noticed, had began to be much deeper. A wave of confidence hit you at the desperation that you were making him feel, and with Spencer busy with your chest, you turned your head around, a smug, shitty smirk on your face. “Truth or dare, Aaron?” you asked.

“Dare.” he said without flinching, his eyes fixed on you, his hips keeping the steady, although slightly erratic pace.

“I dare you to make me cum before you do. Bet you can’t do it with how close you are.” your tone was not only daring, buck even mocking.

One thing about Aaron Hotchner, he liked abiding by the law, but he did not enjoy being told what to do, or being challenged in any way, it hurt his ego, and it brought out the worst in him. Without warning, he landed a loud smack on your ass, same one that caused a loud wince out of your mouth “Shit, Aaron!” you were about to turn around and complain at the surprising, yet not unwelcome, roughness, but the slight pain of your hair being pulled shut you up. He grabbed you by the head to pull you upwards and away from Reid’s lap; you stumbled a bit as you got back on your feet, and he made sure to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you from falling down, or his dick from slipping out. In a quick motion, you removed the bra that kept dangling from your arms and ended up kicking down the panties that had slipped down to your knees, leaving you bare naked in front of Spencer who was staring from his restricted seat. Aaron’s hand moved from your hair to your chin, turning your face in his direction to be able to attack your mouth with his, his tongue forced it’s way in and you almost choked at the lack of air. The hand around your waist kept you secured as he kept thrusting into you, your moans coming out from your throat directly into his mouth; said hand slipped further down, making its way in between your legs to have his index finger rub around your clit.

His hips snapped faster each time, but the circles drawn around your sensitive nub remained to a steady, slightly slow pace. Your knees began to give in, and he was holding you up by the mere use of his hand against your pussy. Spencer could only observe from a few steps away, how another man, your boss nonetheless, was causing you so much bliss. His dick began to twitch inside his pants, and his hips rolled trying to get friction, any source of friction, from them.

One of your hands clung from Aaron’s neck, while the other tried to keep balance by gripping onto the desk. You began to clench around Hotch, who was already struggling to keep his noises at bay, releasing them right into your mouth. “Aaron…” you moaned against his lips, letting him know that you were close. His finger quickened its pace on your clit, you began to clench repeatedly, and your stomach began to tighten, and just before you could feel the sweet release of your climax, Aaron Hotchner pulled out of you, his hand leaving your sensitive area, and his lips breaking away.

You yelled a curse in his direction, and he grabbed you by the wrist in response, his face visibly annoyed since, for the sake of his teasing, he had accidentally denied his own orgasm. He tugged on your hand before you could protest any longer and directed you to Reid, making a sign with his hand for you to kneel down, and you obeyed. Without much as a word, and Spencer dumbfoundedly looking down at you, he walked around the chair with the cuff keys that he took from the desk, kneeled, and freed Reid’s hands from their confinement; the youngster took a second to rub at his hands that had gone slightly numb and observed the actions of your boss. Hotch walked behind you and reached for your arms, pulling both behind your back, you also didn’t quite comprehend what was going on, but you were so focused on Spencer’s pretty face, his swollen lips from the kissing, and the uncomfortable shuffle he made to try and satisfy his need for attention down there that you didn’t care about whatever Aaron was doing to you.

“You created this little club to not spend Valentine’s alone, didn’t you, Reid?” he said in the blond man’s direction “And yet, you’re the only one unattended. That doesn’t seem fair, does it? She went around parading another man fucking her, with only a couple of kisses to keep you going.” he shook his head disapprovingly, his hand then moved to the back of your head, and gently pushed it forward, allowing your cheek to rest on Spencer’s bulge. “He even paid for the food, time to pay him back, treat him nicely.” he commanded.

Your eyes had locked with Reid’s the entire time. You were more than pleased to be of service to him, he deserved to be praised, and treated, like nothing but a king, and you intended to do so. You wiggled your body to be further in between his legs and tilted your head up, staring at him as you opened your mouth, showing him that you were ready to take him in. His heart felt like jumping off his chest, and he used his newly-freed hands to cup your face, bend down, and land a passionate kiss on your lips. He was softer compared to Hotch, tender even, as he had been waiting his entire life to do that, even if he had done it minutes before.

After he was satisfied, he pulled back to fiddle with his pants. Once he moved his boxers aside, his member darted out, accidentally landing right across your face. You heard him mutter a quiet ‘sorry’ and you could see the red tint adorning his face again. You giggled to yourself and tilted your head to finally have his tip inside your mouth. You took a tentative, gentle suck at it, and the high pitched moan that he let out was all the encouragement you needed to keep going. You began to bob up and down, making sure to take more of him each time. His own head was thrown back, eyes closed as he let himself be pleasured.

In the meantime, Aaron kneeled right behind you. He double checked that the cuffs weren’t too tight, the intention was never to hurt you, and once he got confirmation, he positioned his still hard dick at the height of your hands still forced together. His fingers guided yours gently to wrap around his shaft, and he began to thrust slowly into it. You could feel his tip hit your back time and again as he fucked your tied-up hands slow enough to keep his erection, but not so fast to make himself come.

Spencer’s moans were a higher pitch and came out more repeatedly. His hands had moved your hair and he was helping you move your head back and forth. The excitement kept running through your veins, you could barely move, your knees hurting a little bit from being on the floor, but there was nothing you could do about it, and the mere feeling of being bound to provide these men with pleasure was keeping you on the edge, still unable to release.

Reid’s grip tightened around your hair, and you could feel how he kept you still. You braced yourself for the thrusts that were about to come, and they did not disappoint. With every jump of his hip, you could feel him hit the backside of your mouth, dangerously close to going into your throat. “You’re taking me so well, so fucking good.” the blond man praised, and your eyes traveled up in attempt to see him, his own met your sight, and he took a second to push a strand of hair behind your ear. His hips buckled up a couple more times, with your lips tightening around him. You wanted to taste him, you were eager to do so, but alas these men had entirely different plans for you.

As he felt his stomach cramping in pleasure, Spencer decided to remove himself from your mouth, to which you yet again complained. He signaled Hotch to get up, and he gently helped you stand by grabbing you around the shoulders. “I wanted to taste you!” you cried out with a huff of your cheeks, turning your head to look at Reid.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you will get the chance, I’m nowhere near done.” he directed you to Emily’s desk once again, poor girl will have to throw away the whole thing by the time the night ends, and he guided you as if he was transporting an unsub to a holding cell, Hotch following behind. His hand landed on your head and he forced it forward to have you bent over the wooden surface, your ass out in his direction. He positioned himself at your entrance and easily began to push in. You let out a moan of pure bliss at the sensation of being filled again, this time around with Spencer’s pinkish cock.

His thrusts were gentle compared to Aaron’s, but the pace was rather quicker and deep, he was desperate to feel you. One of his hands landed on the mark that his boss had previously left on you, squeezing it with what seemed almost like rage. The other hand tangled itself on the chain of the cuffs, using it as support to continue pulling your body against his hips. You began to whimper once again, almost like cries, from feeling so close, so fast, more intense than before.

“If you don’t mind…” Hotch’s voice snapped you out of your own mind “…I’ll be using this side” your body was positioned close to the edge, your cheek laying on the surface facing the hall; Hotch stood in front of your mouth, guiding the tip to your lips, not quite pushing in yet. The opening of your mouth was the approval he needed to finally slide his length in the slippery hole. Unlike Spencer, he wasn’t paying particular attention to how deep he went, his hips continuing to push trying to find the pleasure he had taken from himself moments before.

Down south, Spencer’s eyes were focused on your ass, it looked so magnificent, swallowing him in without protesting. He could feel you twitching, you felt heavenly to him, never did he imagine he would actually have the chance to fuck you, let alone have you whimper because of him, so desperately. He wanted to make you cum, to have you trembling in a way Hotch couldn’t do it. His fingers slid in between your thighs in a similar fashion, and his index yet again began paying attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You were going on overdrive, your bottom half was getting attention everywhere, and your top could barely hold any air from the thick member using your mouth as his personal flesh light. “I’ve seen every landscape in this country,” Hotch began to say, his eyes staring tenderly down at you “and there’s no prettier sight than you like this, taking me all in.” the praise sent shockwaves all over your body, and your walls began to clench around Spencer.

He was trying to keep himself sane, not wanting to come just yet, he wanted to give you more pleasure, to have you wobbling even more. “Hey, truth or dare?” he asked in between grunts as he tapped on your back, letting you know the question was for you “If I remember correctly, it’s my turn.” he clarified. Aaron’s cock, however, was not giving you much of an opportunity to answer. You made random sounds around his length, and the vibrations gave him an extra wave of pleasure.

“She said ‘Truth’” your boss translated for him, a prideful smirk plastered all over his face, pleased with the fact that he was barely letting you speak.

“Whose dick tastes best?” Spencer shot Hotch a smug look and he replied with a shake of his head.

You pulled back, letting go of Aaron’s cock in attempt to answer the question “Yo-“ before you could even began the sentence, your boss’s hands guided your head into its previous position and thrusted his shaft back inside your mouth; you complied and continued swallowing your cheeks around it. It was Hotch’s turn to look smug, and Spencer chuckled at his actions.

The situation was becoming almost unbearable, you needed to come, you were so close, and here they were playing ‘who wore it best?’ with your mouth for a gown. Spencer seemed to notice your desperation when your eyes began to tear up. His hips changed positions, and it hit a spot so sweet you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your walls clenched around him, your mouth let go of Aaron’s dick to allow your voice to come through “Fuck, Spencer! Inside, come inside!” you begged as your release began to drip down your thigh.

Your partner obeyed your commands, and he pulled roughly on the cuffs to have his member all the way inside of you as he spilled his seed. You shut your eyes and smiled to yourself, it felt so good to be filled up, specially by someone you had wanted to fuck for so long. Light curses and a mention of your name left his lips, he gave a couple more thrusts trying to ride down his high, and finally pulled out of you.

Hotch had taken the lead on himself to let you enjoy your orgasm; he continued to jerk off at a fast pace in front of you, his tip basically rubbing the side of your face. You were about to take him back in when he moved, and you noticed he was walking towards your rear. Panic drew in your eyes, and you cried out beggingly “Aaron, please don’t, I can’t take anymore.” you whispered in his direction.

“It’ll be one second.” he said, and you braced yourself for yet another round of overstimulation. Instead, you felt how his tip slid in an out a couple of times, and he walked back to have his hips at the same level as your face. You watched in awe how his member was coated in what seemed like cum, and you looked up with surprise “If I remember correctly, you wanted to taste him” if your brain hadn’t been just freshly fucked, you would have given than man round three right there. You opened your mouth widely, and he pressed his shaft once again. He held you still by the head as he continued to thrust, considerably faster this time, and moments after he pushed deeply in, allowing his release to spill inside your mouth. He must have been pent up, because it became a little hard to hold all of it in. Your tongue rolled around, taking a second to taste both loads along with some of your own fluids.

He pulled back after he made sure everything was released, but his hand tugged at your chin to force it up and closed, not permitting that anything were to spill. “Truth or dare.” he asked as the final question of the game.

“Dare” you barely mumbled.

“Swallow.” was his last command, and you more than happily obliged.

Spencer stood in shock watching the scene, like whatever had taken over him had finally left his body. Hotch seemed to be the same, his stern glare softening once again to the relaxed one he had outside of work. Reid hurried to get the key and undid the bind on your hands, Hotch grabbed your shoulders and helped you straighten back up so you could be standing once again. “You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.

“I don’t think my throat is in the right place because of you, and you ask if I’m okay?” you snarked playfully. The three of you shared a laugh, and Hotch offered a sincere apology, which you shrugged off since it was not big deal, not like you didn’t enjoy it anyways. Spencer walked back to his desk to slide into his pants, suddenly self-conscious about his body being exposed, and threw his shirt loosely over his shoulders before starting to gather your clothes together.

Your boss reached for his jacket and laid it over your shoulders before he started to get dressed as well “Reid.” he said in a commanding voice, back to the boss demeanor he usually had “Help her get cleaned up and then take her home.” he turned at you instead “I don’t want you driving after that, got it?” his words made you blush slightly, he seemed like a completely different person, but you nodded in response.

“You’re not going out with us?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I need to oversee that the floor gets cleaned and Emiliy’s desk gets…” he made a pause, looking at the surface covered in sweat and other fluids “…burned down, hopefully” he joked. Both of you agreed with the statement, but before Reid could direct you to the office's bathroom, Hotch took a step forward in between the two of you “Hey,” he spoke up to get your attention, his hands laid gently on your face once it turned to him and he leaned in to place a gentle, but deep, kiss to your lips “thank you for tonight, I had a lovely evening.” he smiled as he spoke.

You tried your best to suppress a wide smile “Well,” you started “I would say ‘anytime’, but this club kind of only gets together once a year.” you joked.

“Can’t wait until next year, then.” he answered without even looking up as he revised the countless messages that he got while he was occupied. He patted Reid on the shoulder as a goodbye and headed back to his office.

After everything was clean on your body, and you didn’t look like you had just been attacked by hyenas, Spencer walked you out of the FBI building. The trip down the elevator being slightly too quiet for someone who had just moved your liver to a completely different position. Your legs began to wobble again, feeling like they were going to give in, and Spencer stepped closer to offer his body for support. “You can lean on me.” he said with a gentle smile, and you took his word “By the way, you still owe me one answer that, if I remember correctly, was cruelly taken from me.” he said as he chuckled recalling the scene.

You laughed along “Alright, rules are rules, do you want to ask the same question, or would you like to change it?”

“Actually, I think I’ll change it.” his arm darted out to surround your shoulders with it, making the position more stable for you “Would you like to do this again sometime? Minus Hotch, of course.” he diverted his gaze as he asked.

You tilted your head with surprise, yet another blush creeping at your face. “You mean, like, next Valentine’s?” you asked with genuine surprise.

“Well, that, or,” he chuckled to himself, finally daring to look back at you “next Friday? Preferably after dinner.”

There was no holding back the bright smile that appeared on your face, or the flutter in your stomach. Your head leaned on his shoulder, and you could feel his land on top of yours in a loving embrace.

“Deal.”

#criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reif fanfic #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #i didnt proof read so im vry sorry ill edit later!!#happy valentines lonely people #fan fic: spencer #fanfic: spencer #fanfic: hotchner #fanfic: criminal minds

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judeyswife · 2 months

Text

not what i’m looking for. — jude bellingham x reader. II

genre : angst

word count : 928

note : hii lovies, this is official part two of the series not what im looking for !!! (part one) please let me know of what yall think in the comments! there will be a part 3 guys so don't worry, but it'll probs be a wrap up for this mini series since i want to get started on some other fics too + made a few format changes and writing from author's pov this time -- but thats it! enjoyyy! requests box always open !!

‏‏‎ ‎ ———————————————————-‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎

"i'm sorry"

it's horrendous how fast people switch up. or i'd say men, in this case. it's been roughly about six months since that conversation had happened. it was honestly one of the worst days in your whole life. i mean, yeah you'll get through it. but why? every once in a while you think about what did she have that you didn't.

but this is a topic that hasn't been brought up in about a month. and a certain individual isn't mentioned anymore in your life thank the lord.

you have gone to a beach house near where you live with a few of your best friends, layla, jess, and liv. yall needed this vacation after months of torture. or studying.

they've been with you since day one. truthfully you'd say who needs a relationship when you have your homegirls?

"Y/N, come here right fucking now." -- layla screamed from our room in the house.

you could literally think she had been getting murdered with the way she was screaming honestly.

"oh my god what!"

"whats his name posted a fucking video of missing someone LOOK."

who? jude.

you sit next to her curiously taking her phone from her hands in order for you to take a look at the tiktok she was trying to show you.

( for the sake of the story, jude has tiktok xoxo )

you were shocked. who genuinely who would've though that he'd actually miss us? it didn't even sound right thinking about it.

"maybe it's about her layla" you shrugged getting up to grab your water bottle from her desk.

"are you stupid girl, he's obviously thinking about you, i mean look at his caption." - 'didn't think a situationship could hurt more than an actual relationship' don't be a fool y/n"

liv and jess had entered the room a few minutes ago listening to the conversation making liv enter the conversation.

"ain't no way he has the nerve to do that bullshit on social media"

you stood there listening to them diss jude for about 5 minutes straight. but your lost in your thoughts. i mean, why would he ever miss something he supposedly never had? it's genuinely so draining and confusing.

"guys just drop it, its whatever. lets just go hang out at the hot tub, i really fucking need it"

your friends just looked at one another not saying a single word. they knew better. not to make you sound like a maniac or anything, but they knew how you were with bottling up your feelings. jude was a sensitive topic for you. they didn't want to be the cause of ruining your vacation over some dumb tiktok captions. they simply agreed with you and started getting changed to go out the the hot tub.

•

it had been a few hours since you last seen your phone and you're now inside getting ready to have dinner with the girls and settling down. so you took these few moments, unlocked your phone and checked out what you had missed.

you furrowed your eyebrows trying to figure out who this number could possibly belong to. since you and layla are sharing a room for the trip, she was getting ready at her vanity and noticed your confused expression.

"y/n what's up?" -- asking you meanwhile putting a face mask on.

"i don't know, this random number just texted me with my name i'm just hella confused"

"that's weird. ask who it is obviously"

you nodded listening to what she had advised you to do.

you had this conversation silently without saying a word to layla about who this "mystery person" was. mainly because you wanted to fight your own battles. i mean you basically already had jess and liv involved. not that your mad at them or anything, you know they want what's best for you. clearly they're on team jude. those girls.

"who was it?" layla said getting up from her chair to grab her phone from the charger near her bed. "no one important, they got the wrong number and person" you honestly don't know how she believed you. you hate to admit but you were feeling jittery after having that conversation with jude after so long. even if it was barely a conversation.

you hated that you needed to lie to layla, but you truly believed it was honestly for the best. when you and jude were talking, they knew every single detail about the relationship you had with jude. and by they i mean your friends and his friends. always involved. one of the main issues why miscommunication was lacking horribly in your relationship. so that's why you want a new beginning. not just to "lie" to your friends but to feel the sense of control in your life. even if tomorrow was the last conversation you had with jude, you wanted to keep the moment to yourself.

•

without saying a word to anyone, you and jude had been chatting it up all night. just a catch up with each other. you guys went from telling every detail of your day to each other, to not saying a single word for months to each other. it felt nice being able to slowly regain that comfort you once had when you guys would text or facetime all night long.

you were honestly praying for the best in tomorrow's conversation, you had no idea what it could lead up to.

but the overthinking was done on your pillow all night long, plus his texts of course.

#Spotify #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fan fic #jude bellingham one shot #bellingham x reader #football x reader #bellingham angst #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham angst #footballer x reader #football fanfic #football angst #real madrid #judeyswife

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tw1l1te · 3 months

Text

blueberry₊˚✩⊹sal fisher x reader₊˚✩⊹

(Not edited, so please forgive men if there are grammatical/spelling errors. Random thought I came up with. Please let me know if you'd like more backstory/a continuation of this!

Sitting on top of Addison Apartments was a place to think. A place of silence except the sounds of breathing and the occasional shuffling around. You haven't been up here in a while, since the fight you and Sal had a few months ago.

₊˚✩⊹

"God you're such a hypocrite. You keep telling others to take care of themselves and not isolate, but yet you don't give two shits and don't even take your own advice. Not answering your phone or leaving your apartment for over two months? Do you know how worried Ash was? How heartbroken and distant Larry became?? We thought you were fucking dead Y/n. And after all that you decide to drop by and ask 'what's up'?" Sal seethed, his tone getting more hostile by the second.

You don't think you've ever seen him so angry.

"I'm sorry Sal, I didn't mean to make you all worry. That was the last thing I wanted you guys to feel. You know I don't handle my mental health well," you murmured, avoiding Sal's eyes. You could already feel the tears streaming down your face.

"Listen I get it Y/n, but you can't just cut us off like that. You made us all husks of what we used to be. Do you know how many nights I stayed up till the early morning just staring at my phone, hoping you'd at least call?? I couldn't even remember what you sounded like until today."

"Bluebe-"

"Don't call me that. You have no right calling me that after the months of heartbreak and worry you've caused us. Every time this happens, I get my hopes up in that you won't shut us out and disappear. I get disappointed every. Single. Time. You're lucky that Larry, Ash, and Todd are such forgiving people. You don't deserve them."

You mulled over his words. He was right. You didn't deserve them. All the affection and love that they gave you all for you to throw it down the drain when you got too ill. The hundreds of phone calls from Ash. The constant check-ins from Larry over the walkie-talkie, talking about stupid shit that happened that day or speaking softly about how much he missed you. Todd emailing you every few days asking how you were holding up and if you needed anything, but eventually those emails automatically went to spam. And Sal. Sal was probably the hardest to avoid.

He sat outside your apartment door for hours, talking, pleading you to let him in to talk. He brought snacks and slid them under the door, worried if you were eating enough. Playing his guitar for you through the walkie-talkie, hoping it would soothe you or cheer you up. Sliding random doodles and letters under the door so you had something to help remind you about how much they cared about you. How much he cared for you. You kept them all under the bed in a shoe box, reading over every word and cat doodle every single night.

"I can't do this again, Y/n. You've hurt me over and over and over again. Each time I expected it to end different."

He took a pause, waiting for a reaction or a word from you.

"We're done. I don't know about the others, but don't bother writing or talking to me. I can't do this anymore."

And with that, he headed downstairs, not sparing you a single glance back.

₊˚✩⊹

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the rooftop door creak open.

You don't look back, hoping the person would get a hint and leave.

You hear the footsteps get closer, and stopping right beside you.

"Didn't think you came up here anymore." he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

Fuck. He was probably the last person you wanted to see right now.

"I come here to think." you stated, looking out to the street and nearby houses.

"Y/n, I'm sor-" "I'm leaving." you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say.

You've thought about your time in Nockfell and decided that it was time for you to move on. You couldn't be stuck in a time capsule forever. The more time had passed, the more it had started to hurt being here and see reminders of what had happened. Reminders of him.

"What?" he whispered, finally looking at you.

"I need to move on. I can't be here anymore." you stated, trying to keep your voice level.

"You were right, I can't keep leaving people in the dark and constantly worrying them. I'll keep doing that if I stay here. I need to be somewhere else, I don't know where, but I'll figure it out."

"Y/n. If this is about what I said, I'm sorry, I was in a bad state too. I was just so worried that something had happened-"

"Sal, please stop. I'm not changing my mind. I'm leaving tomorrow morning-"

"What about Ash? Larry and Todd? What about me?? I need you here. It was wrong of me to shut you out, to ignore you. I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You finally looked at him, right into his blue eyes.

His hair had gotten longer, choppier, like he'd tried to cut it himself. No longer in the pigtails you loved. Seems like you'd both changed.

"I need to go, Sal."

You walk away, not looking back because if you did, you wouldn't be able to leave. You wouldn't be able to leave them. Leave Nockfell. Leave him.

"I'll see you around, Blueberry."

₊˚✩⊹

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher #enemies to lovers #sally face x you

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roosterforme · 11 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley sees Meredith again after so many months, he is filled with a range of emotions. He wonders if he has done enough for Noah on his own. His primary mission in life is to be the best dad, the one Noah deserves, and he has to be honest about how that is going to affect what he has going on with you.

Warnings: Angst, smut, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was up early. He'd barely slept anyway, but that wasn't entirely Meredith's fault. He had been scrolling through all the photos of you that he had saved on his phone, and he even considered calling you well past midnight.

He had a bad feeling. Meredith had never gone this far before. Last year and the year before, she had simply called Bradley, begging for an update about Noah around his birthday. And once he had sent her some updated photos, she briefly bugged him about custody, and then she had vanished again. But now he felt like he had made things so much worse by ignoring her calls for so long.

"What the fuck," he muttered as he got dressed. Meredith had followed you and Noah to the damn park! He wanted to believe that she wouldn't intentionally do any actual harm, but she obviously spooked you. Since you had no idea what she looked like, your reaction had been to put Noah's safety first.

Every time Bradley thought about you protecting his child, he got a warm feeling in his chest. Simply thanking you wasn't enough; he wanted to hold you and Noah and spend hours explaining it to you. Then maybe he could understand this feeling better himself.

But you got hurt in this mess that Bradley had helped create. And he needed to make it better if he could.

There was a light knock at his front door, and he went to answer it as he zipped up his jeans. "Hi," Nat whispered, giving him a tight hug as he let her inside. "What time is she coming?"

"I have no idea," he replied miserably, and Nat rubbed his back for a moment. When Bradley called her last night, she agreed to watch Noah while Meredith came by. He wanted to find out what Meredith wanted before he let her see Noah.

"Okay, well, I'm free all day. I'll take Noah with me back to my place, and you can just call me after Meredith fucks off."

Bradley nodded.

"And if Meredith doesn't feel like fucking off," she added, "I'll make her."

Bradley couldn't help but grin down at her. "Thanks, Nat. I'll go wake him up."

Once he had played another round of musical car seats, Bradley waved as Nat pulled out of his driveway with Noah and a stack of coloring books in tow. Of course the coloring books were ones that you had brought over when you came to babysit or just spend time here, and now Bradley was itching to call you.

Instead he messed around with his coffee maker and brewed a vanilla latte, just the way you liked it. He was still sipping it and thinking about how much he loved the way you looked in his house when another knock jarred him from his thoughts.

He abandoned the coffee on his counter and went to the door once again. "Meredith," he said with no emotion as the tall blonde pushed past him and into his living room.

"Bradley." Her expression was smug as she looked around; it had been years since she was here, and very little had changed. But Bradley did see her eyes catch on some of the artwork you and Noah had made for him which was hanging on the far wall. "Where's Noah?"

"He's not here," Bradley replied, tucking his hands in his pockets.

She turned back to him and glared. She had always been beautiful but haughty. "I don't want to see you. I want to see him."

Bradley didn't waver. "You specifically told me on the phone that you wanted to talk to me in person. So let's talk."

"Fine," she said cooly, dropping down onto his couch. "But next time we set something like this up, I want him here too."

Bradley almost laughed in her face as he sat too. Next time? Over his dead body there would be a next time. Noah didn't know who his birth mother was, and Bradley wanted to keep it that way. Bradley grew up without a dad, but under very different circumstances. Meredith had a track record of being nonexistent, and Bradley didn't want that for his son.

"Where is he?" she asked, sharp eyes on him.

Bradley sighed. "He's being well taken care of, Meredith."

"By your babysitter?" Then she said your first and last name, and Bradley felt a chill wash over his body.

"How do you know her name?" he grunted, clenching and unclenching his fist in his lap.

"It wasn't hard to find out after I got her license plate number. She's a nursing student at the University of San Diego, Bradley. A mere child," she said, shaking her head sadly.

Bradley's heart was pounding. Meredith knew who you were, and she wanted something from him. "Did you scare my babysitter on purpose yesterday?"

Meredith laughed, head tipped back as she placed her hand over her heart. "Are you really going to keep calling her that, Bradley? She's obviously 'babysitting Noah' because you're messing around with her. Your little booty call. And she looks like she is all of eighteen years old."

"She's twenty four. And don't talk about her like that," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Don't."

Her eyes lit up. "So it is true. I was just making an assumption, going off a hunch. She's cute, so I'm not surprised at all. But I don't think they are going to take too kindly to a father who is busy fucking the babysitter. One who is basically half his age, at that. A father who is distracted. A trashy, young babysitter who is sleeping with someone over a decade older than her."

"Meredith," he growled, trying his hardest to stay calm, but he was seething now.

"And you let that trash around our son, Bradley. A glorified slut, making money and getting laid while she's at it. And that's not even taking into account that you're still in the Navy. You leave Noah with random friends of yours every time you're deployed, none of whom are his legal guardian. None of them can make decisions in an emergency. You lack any and all stability." She was completely calm as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and sighed. "No, they will not like that at all."

"What the fuck are you getting at, Meredith?" And then Bradley noticed for the first time that she brought a fancy looking leather bag with her, out of which she procured a manila folder.

"This should spell everything out nicely for you." She handed it to him, and he opened it and skimmed through a stack of papers. His heart rate grew steadily faster until it was getting hard to breathe. It felt just like the first time he hit 8 G's. He was going to throw up. Bradley could feel the bile rising in his stomach as the panic truly set in. His insides clenched as he looked at her.

"You want custody."

"Full custody, yes. I have a lawyer. A good one."

He closed the folder and tried to hand it back to her, but she pulled her hands away and stood. "You can keep that," she said with a smirk. "I made several copies."

Bradley stood as well, and got in her face. "No judge in this entire state is going to award you custody of Noah. Not after the shit you've pulled."

She shrugged and headed for the door. "Lucky for me, you've pulled your own shit. We'll just have to wait and see who sounds more believable."

His heart was thudding, and his ears were ringing. "You abandoned us, Meredith! You haven't paid a single penny for anything in nearly four years, and Noah doesn't even know who the fuck you are!"

As she turned the knob, she looked back at him and said, "Abandonment is a strong word, and you can't prove anything. And may I suggest you learn to keep your emotions in check? It will be good practice for the courtroom. And you need to keep that girl you're sleeping with away from our son. I won't hesitate to ruin her if I need to. You already forced me to go through her once, Bradley. I'll do it again with no remorse if I have to. Noah is my son. Just because that girl is fucking you, that doesn't give her the same rights I have."

"Do I need to get a restraining order, Meredith?" he called, but she was already walking out to her car with a little wave over her shoulder.

"Not if you want me to allow you to have visitation rights. Oh, and make sure you answer my calls next time, so we can prevent another visit at the park!"

-------------------------------

You were laying on your back porch in the sun, trying to finish reading your assignments for the following week. Every hour or so, your phone went off, but it was never from the only person you wanted to hear from. It was just a bunch of texts from Greyson, begging you to come over. He must be bored. It was probably too early in the day for him to get stoned, and you knew he was too lazy to look for another girl for the night. That was why he was bothering you now.

You squinted and turned your head away from the sunlight and thought about your ruined sunglasses, crunched up in the parking lot next to the playground. Bradley said he was going to call Meredith. You were so embarrassed; you actually ran away from Noah's mom. Surely she wasn't going to hurt either of you. She probably just wanted to see him, even if she did sound like a bitch when Bradley described her. But she was pretty. And probably just the right age for Bradley. Now you had a very clear image in your mind of exactly what he was trying to replicate when he was using the dating app.

You had a gross feeling in your stomach. You hated waiting like this. You were always waiting for everyone else. First you waited for Greyson to contact you whenever he wanted to see you. More recently you'd been waiting for Bradley to let you know where you stood with him.

When you decided you were hungry, you stood and went to your kitchen. You tore open a bag of Skittles as you looked through your refrigerator, but after you ate a handful, you left the rest on the counter and walked away.

When your phone rang late in the afternoon, you answered it as soon as you saw who it was.

"Bradley?" you asked softly, and you were met with a beat of heavy silence that made you want to cry.

"Hi. Any chance you can stop by later? Just for a minute?"

"Yeah," you replied, pacing the length of your small living room before curling up on your couch. "I can do that."

"I'll see you later."

-------------------------------

Nat kept Noah at her place for most of the day while Bradley had a good, old fashioned nervous breakdown. His best friend was good like that, and he didn't even have to give her any details yet. She just knew what to do without any prompting.

Bradley sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor and thought about everything he could lose if this didn't work out for him. He had a dresser full of Noah's little clothes behind him, and a closet full of Noah's toys next to him. He paid for everything for his child. And not that Noah was a burden on him in any way, but they never got any help from Meredith, monetarily or otherwise. But he could see how it would be impossible to prove she abandoned the two of them. And it probably didn't help that he never returned her phone calls or let her see him when she begged in the past.

She was a business developer. She made more money than Bradley. But he never went after her for a cent, because he knew he would rather have his son to himself than have to share Noah with someone who didn't really care about him.

So why the fuck did Meredith want to be involved now? It didn't make sense. And Bradley hated that he thought the worst of her at this moment, but he did. He just knew there had to be something he was missing here.

He laid back on the floor and fiddled with his phone, forcing himself to stop from calling you. He rubbed one large hand along his face and let out a sting of curse words. The fact that he wasn't sure if he would be able to protect his own son was making him anxious and scared. But he could protect you. He could save your name from being dragged through the mud. He could prevent you from potentially spending your time in a courtroom, from becoming collateral damage to Bradley's crime of falling for Meredith and getting her pregnant in the first place.

And Bradley knew he had to protect you, because he wasn't worth it. Getting messed up with him was not worth your time and aggravation. He just wished he had pumped the brakes a little harder, told you this was a bad idea and shut it down earlier. He should have never let it get physical. All the flirtation and banter should have been enough for him. He should have taken it for the ego boost that it could have been and moved on, pursued a woman from the dating app and stayed away from you.

It was already too late for him though. Because he knew how you tasted. He knew all the little noises you made when you were underneath him. He knew how good you looked in his clothes. He knew how much Noah loved you. And he fucking knew you loved his kid right back.

And now all of his baggage was coming back to haunt him.

"Fuck!" Bradley shouted. And then he scrolled through his phone until he found Tracy's number. It was a Saturday, and he hated to do this on the weekend, but what choice did he have?

"Hello?"

"Tracy? It's Bradley Bradshaw. I'm not sure if you remember me, and I'm sorry it's Saturday-"

"Bradley. Of course I remember you. And your sweet son. Noah, was it?"

"Yeah," he replied, running his hand over his eyes. He had taken Noah with him last year when Nat urged him to talk to a lawyer about setting up a will. They had also touched on the topic of a custody agreement, which Bradley had firmly told Tracy was something that wasn't necessary at the time.

"What can I do for you?"

"Do you remember our conversation about custody and parental rights for Noah?"

"Yes, I remember."

He sighed deeply. "I think I need to revisit that conversation."

----------------------------

You changed into a cute sundress and packed up the three remaining coloring books and the pack of neon crayons you had for Noah. You added a bag of Skittles to your tote, and then you headed out to your car as tears prickled your eyes.

Your arm hurt a lot more today, and changing the bandages with your left hand had been challenging. You considered taking your first aid kit along with you and asking Bradley for help. But then you decided that getting over there and getting this over with was more important.

He must have spoken to Meredith by now, and while you weren't sure exactly what that meant for you, there was no doubt it wasn't good.

You parked in his driveway alongside his Bronco, and let yourself in the front door. It was late. Noah was probably in bed already. That was probably why Bradley asked you to come now.

"Hi," you whispered. He was sitting in the middle of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, and he looked impossibly handsome as he glanced up at you.

"Hi," he echoed, his voice deep and raspy. You thought that maybe he wanted to add Princess to that greeting by the way his lips were silently working, but then he snapped his mouth shut.

You wanted to go sit in his lap. It was the only thing that would make you feel better right now, but you knew you shouldn't do it. And as you took a few steps closer to him, he stood, and you could feel the heat from his big body.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly. He leaned a little closer to you, like he wanted to kiss you. His hands were reaching for your hips, but you watched him clench them into fists and drop them to his sides.

"I think I will be," he replied, and you couldn't stand it any longer. You reached for his face, stroking his mustache as his eyes closed. And then you kissed him. And he kissed you back. Right before he took a staggering step away from you.

------------------------------

The only thing Bradley wanted to do was get lost in your kisses and beg for you. He wished he could forget about everything that had happened after he fucked you at your place and left for work yesterday. Pretend Meredith wasn't a threat. But he couldn't keep pretending. That much was made clear when he spoke to his lawyer earlier.

After he stepped away from you, he cleared his throat and said, "We can't do this anymore."

You laughed humorlessly as you ran your fingers along your glossy lips. "Can't do what anymore, Bradley? What exactly have we been doing?"

"Messing around," he replied, keeping his eyes on your face. It was so much more than that though, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the world for trying to make you think he felt any differently. For trying to make you think he didn't care about you. "It was fun, but I need to take things seriously. For myself and for Noah."

You pressed your lips together and looked at the floor. "Did you and Meredith get back together?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

The thought of it made him sick. It made him feel outraged to even think about Meredith at all, let alone romantically. But if that's where your mind went, then so be it.

"We talked about it."

You gasped, but you didn't look at him. "You told me she abandoned you. And you think that would be best for Noah? Best for you?"

"I'm... not sure," he replied, wanting more than anything to collect you in his arms and take care of you. Kiss you. Be with you. But he couldn't protect you and do those things right now. Not after his conversation with Meredith, and especially not after speaking to Tracy. "But sometimes people change."

"You sound unsure," you said, looking up at him hopefully as tears collected in your eyes. "Why won't you give me a good reason? A solid reason?"

Bradley ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, using his anger to hold back his own tears. "I can give you a whole list of reasons. Is that what you want?" You didn't respond verbally, but the quiver of your lips made him keep going. "You're too young for me. I need a woman more mature than you. Someone who would help me take care of Noah. Someone I could be in a real fifty/fifty relationship with. And not just with Skittles."

You sobbed, and he hated himself. But he kept going.

"You think you want this, but you don't. You're just a kid. You don't know what you want. But I can guarantee that me and all my baggage isn't it."

"I never said you had baggage-"

But he cut you off, shaking his head and saying, "I said it. So it doesn't matter what you did or didn't say. This is not going to work. I don't want this."

You had tears dripping onto your cheeks now as you looked up at him. Your pretty face was scrunched up in sadness or rage. Probably both. Because he was behaving like a dick.

Your shoulders shook while you cried. "Fine. I understand," you said through your tears. "I can't make you want me back."

He felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs, because you were the only thing he wanted right now. He had let himself indulge in his feelings for you, and now he was hurting you on purpose. And it was killing him.

"Can I say goodbye to Noah?" you whispered, swiping at your tears.

Bradley nodded, stumbling behind you as you walked quickly to Noah's room. He stood in the doorway and watched you gently brush Noah's hair away from his forehead as you sobbed. Then you bent to kiss his cheek and whispered, "I love you, Noah."

Bradley couldn't take it. He turned away and walked back to the living room. He broke his own heart, which he could eventually probably handle, because the outcome he wanted was important to him. He could come to terms with keeping you away from him. He knew you'd be better off without him in the long run anyway.

But he hadn't anticipated how much this was going to hurt his son. Maybe he had made a mistake.

When you walked back into the living room with your tote bag on your shoulder, you slapped Bradley's house key against his chest without looking at him. He fumbled and caught it before it dropped, but when he turned toward you, all he saw was the swirl of your dress as the door slammed shut behind you.

Bradley stood with the key in his hand, inhaling the smell of wildflowers as he listened to your car pull out of his driveway.

"Goodbye, Princess."

-----------------------------

Bradley, what did you do?! Hope you enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 14

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