#it seems that they were harder to make before

[luveline]

can we possibly get the one where Gideon doesn’t like bombshell reader and poor Spencer is watching like☹️

Spencer feels a little like a child of divorce. Like, he absolutely is a child of divorce, but he didn’t think he’d feel this way at work. Lately, all Hotch and Gideon do is argue. 

It’s especially odd in that Hotch doesn’t usually go against Gideon’s judgement, even when he doesn’t agree, but you seem to be something Hotch is willing to fight for, and Spencer has no idea why.

“We don’t need her,” Gideon says. Spencer knows it isn’t Gideon being cruel, just stern. “We have a fine team without her.” 

“But with her, we’re better. And we have an opening. I know you like Greenaway for it, and I do too–”

“Everyone likes Greenaway for the position, she’s more palatable than L/N, and she works harder.”

Spencer tries not to whip his face back and forth like he’s following a ping pong ball, but it’s hard to keep up. He has no idea what his mentor’s talking about in all honesty, you’d seemed more than palatable when you met him last week. You were nice. And barely anybody is nice to Spencer. 

You sounded like you actually wanted to hear him talk, something Gideon has often been alone in. And palatable is a subjective word. 

“That’s not necessarily true,” Hotch says, knowing he’s losing. 

“We’re not gonna rush into picking someone,” Gideon says, less stern, more neutral. 

“No. I have invited her to the Georgia consultation this afternoon.” 

Gideon sighs through his nose. The afternoon rolls around quickly. Spencer doesn’t want to think about it but he’s excited to see you, and he feels conflicted in that; Gideon is the first person in a long time who actually seems to care about him, so Spencer is guilty of always aiming to please, but he can’t understand why Gideon dislikes you so much. Am I being easily led? he wonders. 

He’ll admit to finding you attractive. In his head, that is. You’d spoken so particularly, you’d looked stunning, and you didn’t make a fuss when he wouldn’t shake your hand. You called him beautiful. 

It’s the nicest, kindest attention he’s had since he started. Morgan calls him pretty boy. Spencer knows it’s not the same thing. 

They gather in the conference room, Morgan, Hotch, Gideon and Spencer, just a few minutes before 2PM. A minute later, you’re knocking on the door. 

“Hello…” You smile when you realise they’re here. “Am I late?” 

“No, L/N. Come and take a seat,” Hotch says. 

There’s a plastering of documents on the table and an empty seat by both Morgan and Spencer. You choose the one beside Spencer despite a stack of manilla folders, tucking your chair in neatly. “Oh, the grizzly stuff. This will upset my feminine energy.” 

Morgan laughs. Gideon glares at the table. 

Spencer likes it when you’re around. One more person and suddenly the consultation is a conversation and not a debate. You can keep up with everyone. You laugh at Spencer occasionally and he doesn’t know why, but he can tell it isn’t cruel laughter; he’s had a long time to work out the difference. 

Gideon excuses himself for a coffee half an hour in. 

Hotch immediately leans across the table. “I’m trying to help you,” he says. 

You grimace. “What am I doing wrong now?” 

“The laughing.” 

“You laugh.” 

“I know.” Hotch smiles at you. “You’re getting good at this, you have good insight on the dark triad. You read the book I sent?” 

“How’s Haley?” you ask.

He shakes his head, but his smile stays. “Don’t joke about that.” 

You’re not flirting. Or, Spencer doesn’t think so. It’s more likely you’re joking as Hotch says, everything about your body language pointing to amicable friendliness besides your flirting tones. “I read the book,” you say. Your gaze turns to Spencer. “Bet you’ve read it too, huh? Morgan said you’ve read every book ever written.” 

“That’s an exaggeration,” Spencer says. 

“But close?” you ask. “I’d love some recommendations. You know. For profiling.” 

“Don’t let her fool you, Reid, she’s well read,” Morgan says. 

“Wait, Gideon doesn’t like you because you laugh?” Spencer asks. 

It’s a socially inept thing to say, he realises after. You lean back in your chair all sweet and soft with your legs crossed, your dark stockings thin at the knees. He’s so, so worried you’re going to be offended and that’s exactly what he needs, a possible friend isolated again by his inability to read the room, but you don’t chew him out. You nudge his leg gently with the toe of your heel. 

“Now who said he doesn’t like me, handsome?” you ask teasingly. 

Spencer regrets the heat that floods his face and neck. 

“It’s complicated,” you add, your smile more than friendly, Spencer can’t work it out. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn him around eventually. It’s one of my many talents.” 

Oh, he thinks. That’s what it is. Spencer’s finally in on the joke. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[incognit0slut]

Behind Closed Doors 2

Part one

You welcome Spencer back to the team with a special gesture of your own—and find yourself falling even harder for him after he opens up to you.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) sub older spence my beloved, handjob, oral (m), spit kink?, semi-public (they are FREAKY), and idk if we can call this angst but we get to know how he feels about returning to work ~3.9k words

A/n: I didn’t plan for a part two, but rewriting scenes with specific looks of him is growing on me. Also, this happens before Emily tells him to teach seminars on his leave. And tell me what you think!!

He looked good in pink.

That was an understatement, the man looked good in pretty much anything. But today? Something was different. Something looked different. His whole appearance seemed to be on point than usual. You noticed his typically tousled hair was styled and swept back, which was a very rare sight, and it was hard for you to look away.

“…as you have obviously heard, Dr. Spencer Reid has been fully reinstated,” Emily announced, snapping you back to reality. “Welcome back, Spence.”

“Whoo-hoo! Yes!” Penelope cheered, only to be met by Emily’s pointed look. “That’s not the end, is it?”

Your boss shook your head and then proceeded to continue with another announcement. You stole a glance towards him again.

Maybe it was just really his shirt that made him look good? It wasn't even overly tight, but snug enough to accentuate the lines of his broad shoulders. Has his shoulders always been that wide? Now that you think about it, he did seem to be putting on a little weight. Not that it was a bad thing, and not that you didn't like how he looked before, but you couldn't help noticing how he filled out his shirt, and for some reason, it was doing something to you. 

Probably more than something because now you wondered what other places he filled out.

A sudden round of applause filled the room, and you joined in, tearing your gaze away from him only to find Matt Simmons grinning at you. You looked away and followed everyone as they shuffled around the room, making sure to sit as far away from Spencer as possible, although luck wasn't on your side when Matt settled into the seat beside you.

"You don't seem too thrilled about me joining the team," he murmured, leaning in close.

“What do you mean? I’m always open to new faces around here.”

“Not as excited as having an old member back, though,” Matt remarked, prompting you to snap your head at him, a slight frown forming on your face. He winked teasingly, and you groaned, shoving his shoulder away. 

“Ugh, do not wink at me.”

His laughter filled the air, but it quickly faded as the atmosphere in the room turned serious. Penelope began briefing everyone on the new case, and you did your best to mask your grimace every time a gruesome picture flashed on the screen. By the time Emily called out, “Wheels up in thirty,” you rose from your seat.

To talk to him or not talk to him?

You weighed the pros and cons, sneaking a quick glance at Spencer, who was deeply absorbed in studying the case files. The logical part of your brain told you it wasn't the best time to strike up a conversation, especially with only thirty minutes left until you had to leave. But there was something about him, it felt almost instinctual, like you were naturally drawn to him, and like a magnetic force, you couldn't resist.

Oh, fuck it��you decided to approach him.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you made your way over to where he was sitting, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

"Hi.”

"Hey," he greeted, looking up with a small smile at the corners of his lips. "What's up?"

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

"Sure," Spencer replied, his expression curious yet amused. He set aside the files he had been studying and turned his attention fully to you.

“In private?”

There was a brief pause, and you swore you could practically cut the tension with a knife. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he rose from his seat, his gaze never wavering from yours. You tilted your head back to look at him as his presence seemed to fill the room,and you couldn't help but hold your breath as you waited for his response.

“Of course,” he finally agreed, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he turned, leading the way to a more secluded spot, past the bullpen, past the glass doors, and down the hallway.

Once you were both out of earshot, he leaned in. “How private are we talking about?”

You nudged his side before guiding him towards the nearest office. As you stepped inside, your heart pounded in your chest, and you quickly glanced around the room to make sure it was empty. When you confirmed it was unoccupied, you turned back to see Spencer closing the door behind him.

Then everything snapped.

You weren't sure who made the first move, whether it was you or both of you acting on instinct, but before you could process it, his lips were on yours, his arms pulling you close, tongue colliding with your own. You gasped at his eagerness and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed yourself against him.

With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you pushed him against the nearest wall, your hands tangling in his hair as his hands found their way to your ass, squeezing lightly. A soft moan escaped your lips and he responded by deepening the kiss further. It felt like time stood still as you lost yourself in the heat of his mouth against yours, until you finally pulled back, your lips brushing against his jaw.

“What…” He gasped when your mouth trailed lower. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned into his neck, his scent filling your senses. Why did he have to smell so good? “I think it’s your hair.”

“My… hair?”

You pulled back slightly, your fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt, your eyes roaming over the exposed skin of his chest where the top buttons were left undone. “Or maybe it’s the shirt.”

“My shirt?”

“Yes!” You half-exclaimed, half-whispered, trying to keep your voice down. “I think I’m ovulating and you’re not helping.”

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, a flush creeping up his neck as he processed your words. "Oh," he managed to say. “I didn't expect that.”

"Sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to—”

But before you could say anything else, his expression softened, and his grip on your hips tightened. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured you. “It’s common for women to experience changes in their hormones during ovulation. It's completely natural and nothing to be embarrassed about."

You looked up at him, your hands sliding down his chest. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just your body doing its thing,” he said reassuringly. "And honestly, it's kind of flattering to know that... I have that effect on you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your palms drifted lower. “What else do you know about this stuff?”

“Well, around the time of ovulation, a woman's body produces more estrogen, which can increase libido—”

His breath hitched when his eyes fell on your hand resting over his pants.

“What?” you prompted, a playful glint in your eye. “Why did you stop?”

Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly as he met your gaze. "I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I was just going to mention that… increased estrogen levels during ovulation can also lead to heightened sensitivity in erogenous zones—”

But his words trailed off into a sigh as you palmed his arousal over his pants, feeling the hardness beneath your touch. He was undeniably aroused, and the way he responded to your touch only fueled you even more. With a mischievous grin, you ran your palm up and down his length, feeling him throb in response before letting out a playful giggle.

You didn’t realize it would be this fun to be the one doing the teasing.

“Tell me more, Spence.”

He swallowed hard before managing to speak. "W-Well,” he stammered. "Increased estrogen levels can also... enhance blood flow to certain areas, leading to heightened sensitivity and... uh, increased pleasure—”

But before he could finish his sentence, you applied a little more pressure, causing him to let out a low groan of pleasure. His words faltered, his focus shifting entirely to the delicious sensation of your hand stroking him. Your eyes traveled down, watching the way his cock pressed against the fabric of his pants, noting how thick and hard he was. 

But as your gaze lingered, you caught sight of the time on your watch, and reality came crashing back in. You reluctantly pulled your hand away from him, and Spencer blinked at your sudden withdrawal, his desire-clouded mind trying to focus on you.

“What's wrong?” He whispered. “Why did you stop?”

“I… I kind of got carried away, I’m sorry," you noted. "We should probably get back before they start to wonder where we are."

He went still, and so did you. The room’s air conditioner hummed softly, filling the silence as you both simply stared at each other. When he didn’t respond, you slowly backed away and moved toward the door, but his grip on your arm stopped you. You turned towards him, eyebrows raised while he seemed to hesitate to say the next words.

After a moment, he sighed, his gaze softening as he finally found the words he was looking for.

“The other day, after we… you know,” he emphasized, and you nodded, urging him to continue. “I had to deal with this myself.”

His eyes flicked over the bulge in his pants and you stifled a laugh, amused at his sudden fluster. “Yeah, you said you were going to ignore it.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. “I couldn’t.”

“And?”

“And…” he hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before meeting yours again.

There was a moment of silence until you realized what he was implying. You gasped, the hand he wasn’t holding covering your mouth in shock. “Here?” you asked in disbelief. “At work?”

His cheeks flushed, but he nodded sheepishly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “In the bathroom.”

“Spencer,” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, “That’s...”

“I know, I know,” he cut in, his tone self-deprecating. “But in my defense, it was all your fault.”

You giggled. “Me? I barely touched you!”

"Exactly, but it was enough to drive me crazy,” he said, and when he saw you laughing, he gave you a deadpanned look. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh come on, it kind of is.” You shook your head in amusement. “Why are you telling me this?”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Because I don’t want to leave this room and deal with it by myself again.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Is this your way of asking me to touch you?”

His eyes widened almost cartoonishly wide, the flush creeping up his cheeks contrasting against the paleness of his skin, making his reaction all the more apparent.

“Please?”

You couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. “Spencer, we only have…” You glanced over your watch. “Fifteen minutes left.”

“I can probably finish in five.”

You bit your bottom lip. How did you end up in this predicament all over again? Although this time, you felt like you had the upper hand, and somehow, it was strangely exciting to see him so affected, to have him practically begging for your touch when you were supposed to be in a hurry.

He looked at you expectantly. How could you say no when his eyes were wide and pleading? 

“You know what?” You turned to him fully, taking a step forward. “I think you deserve it. It’s your first day back, after all.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you reached for him again. His breath hitched slightly as you undid his belt and slowly lowered the zipper of his pants. His arousal strained against the fabric and you briefly met his gaze. Without a word, you slid your hand inside his pants, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

He felt full in your hand and painfully hard. When his response was nothing but his ragged breathing, you reached for the waistband of his briefs with your other hand, pulling down slightly until his cock was freed from its confines. 

“Spence, you’re so…” Your voice trailed off, eyes fixated on him. The tip was thick and bulbous, a deeper shade than the shaft where pulsing veins ran up the long length. You were mesmerized by his size; it wasn’t too big nor too small, just perfect.

“You’re so pretty.”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he looked back at you. “You think so?”

You nodded, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your grasp. A droplet of wetness glistened on the tip, and unable to resist, your thumb brushed along it, earning a sharp intake of breath from him as his hips instinctively bucked against your touch. With a newfound confidence, you wrapped your hand around him, feeling his hardness pulsating against your palm. 

The skin was soft as you’d expected, warm to the touch, but his length was stiff and throbbing when you squeezed. If you stayed still, you were sure you could count his heartbeat. As your hand moved up and down tentatively, trying to take in every detail of his member, you couldn’t believe you were finally feeling each vein that bulged up his shaft.

“Do you mind if I spit on it?”

He let out a low groan, his head falling back against the wall. “No.”

“Really? Coming from someone who’s germaphobic?” You smiled amusedly. "I thought you'd be more concerned about hygiene."

"I'll make an exception for this."

You couldn't help but laugh at his response. Trusting your instincts, you craned your neck down and let the liquid spill from your mouth, coating his tip in a steady flow. Your saliva glistened in the light, slowly trickling down the length of his cock. Then you began to stroke him gently, you felt him respond eagerly, his breaths growing heavier and his hips rocking gently against your hand.

His head fell back against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “God, that feels…” 

Feeling a surge of pride at his reaction, you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Is this how you touched yourself in the bathroom?”

He swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he met your gaze. 

“Were you thinking of me?” You pressed on. “Did you imagine me touching you like this?”

His response was barely a whisper, but you caught it. “Yes…”

His breath was warm against your face, and you looked up, taking in the way he was looking at you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted as soft moans slipped out of his mouth. Who would’ve thought he made the prettiest sounds? You knew he was trying to keep his voice down, but the sight of him struggling to suppress his pleasure only made it more thrilling.

“Or did you imagine me getting on my knees, taking you in my mouth?” you teased, your voice low and sultry as you traced your tongue along your bottom lip. “Did you picture yourself deep inside of me, how tight and wet I would be?”

His forehead dipped until it was resting against yours, breaking the self-control he was desperately trying to maintain. “Oh god—I-I can’t hold it any longer.”

Your response was simply to increase your speed, your fist moving in fast short strokes up his leaking cock. He was slick with arousal, and you focused your attention on the sensitive tip, prompting even louder sounds of pleasure from him.

“Wait—" he gripped your wrist, forcing you to stop. “I’m so close.”

You frowned, watching the conflict play out in his expression. "I thought you wanted this?"

“I know, it’s just—“ His brows furrowed, a hint of desperation in his eyes as he struggled to maintain control. Then, with a defeated sigh, he admitted, “I don’t want to make a mess.”

You scanned the room, your mind racing for a solution. The office offered no privacy, and there was nothing around to help clean up the mess he would definitely make, so you needed a different approach.

Without hesitation, you got down on your knees.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re gonna—” he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Shh,” you hushed, lightly hitting his thigh. “Just help me hold my hair up.”

He hesitated for a moment, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable. Slowly, he reached out, gathering your hair in his hands. You felt the warmth of his fingers against your scalp, his touch gentle yet firm. You leaned in, your mouth hovering just inches from his swollen tip as you glanced up, meeting his eyes one last time before you took him into your mouth.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you could feel every twitch and throb as you wrapped your lips around him. His grip on your hair tightened, a guttural moan escaping his lips, your tongue swirling around his tip, tasting the salty bead of arousal that had formed there. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you took him deeper, jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth while wrapping your hand around what was left.

You moved slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. It didn’t take long until your mouth was working in tandem with your hand, creating a rhythm that had his body shaking. The room was quickly filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing and soft moans, and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. There you were, hiding behind an empty office with the potential of getting caught. 

But you didn’t care, nor did Spencer, as he held your hair and bucked his hips into your mouth. You could feel the tension building in him, his breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. He was so, so close, and you wanted to push him over the edge. You quickened your pace, your mouth moving up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to create a tighter seal.

His moans grew louder, and you could tell he was struggling to keep quiet. “Please,” he whined, his voice strained. “I-I’m gonna…”

A choked gasp cut off his words as he reached his climax, his release hitting the back of your throat in hot, pulsing waves. You swallowed him down, savoring the taste of him, the warmth spreading through you as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression was one of pure ecstasy, mixed with a hint of disbelief and awe.

As he slowly came down from his high, his grip on your hair loosened, and he gently helped you to your feet. "That was..." he trailed off, still catching his breath. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I think you deserved it,” you said before pointing a finger at him. “But we can’t keep doing this at work.”

He looked at you, amusement and disbelief dancing in his eyes as he adjusted his clothes. You could almost read his thoughts: you were the one who initiated this, not once, but twice. The first time might have been out of panic, but this time, it was all you.

“I’m serious,” you said, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. “Now that you’re back, we should keep a certain distance between us. No more sneaking around.”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. But then you watched as his expression suddenly shifted, as if he remembered something and his smile turned into a frown followed by the furrow of his eyebrows.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He glanced at you, his hands sinking into the front pockets of his slacks. “I haven’t told this to anyone but… there’s a condition to my reinstatement.”

“What do you mean?” 

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “For every hundred days that I spend on the field, I’m required to take thirty days off.” 

You blinked, processing the information. “Wait, what? So you’re not fully back?”

“Technically I am, just not how I want it to be.”

You watched as his shoulders slightly fell. “You’re not happy about this, are you?”

“What am I supposed to do on my days off? A whole month of sitting around in my apartment doing nothing?”

You took a step closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “You’re not going to be sitting around doing nothing. Think of it as an opportunity. You can catch up on your reading, maybe even take a trip somewhere.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the same. I want to be out there, doing my job, helping people. It’s what I’m good at.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But you can’t give your best if you’re burnt out. These breaks could help you recharge, keep you sharp.”

He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I just feel like I’m being benched, like they don’t trust me fully.”

You tugged his arm, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Hey, they trust you. This is about keeping you safe. After everything you went through… Spence, you deserve this break. They just want to make sure you’re at your best every time you’re back in the field.”

When he didn’t seem to fully absorb your words, you pressed on.

“Think about it, you have so many options. You could pick up a new hobby, spend more time with your mom... or finally visit those places you’ve always talked about. Like that museum you mentioned before, what was it called again?”

His gaze softened as he listened to your suggestions. "The Smithsonian," he replied after a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. “I've always wanted to spend a whole day there without rushing.”

"Exactly! Now you'll have the time to do that."

He nodded slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I guess you're right.”

“See? It’s all about perspective.”

His lips curved into a smile as you both fell into silence. Then, he studied you, his eyes scanning your features as if trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in your mind through the subtle shifts of your expression.

“Will you come with me?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected question.

“You want me to come with you to the museum?”

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice soft, almost quiet. "Will you?"

It was a simple question, but it held a weight that you couldn't ignore. You had spent plenty of time together, grabbing lunch, chatting at the coffee shop down the road. But this felt… different. More personal. More intimate.

And suddenly it came crashing to you. You were so absorbed in what was happening between you, the stolen kisses, the physical attraction, that you didn’t realize your friendship was never going to be the same again.

On one hand, the idea of spending more time alone with him was undeniably tempting, but the rational part of you wasn’t sure if it was the wisest thing to do. He was your friend, a good one at that, and getting emotionally involved with friends could either strengthen or strain the relationship.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you searched for the right words. But before you could answer him, both of your phones vibrated with a notification. You both looked at your own devices and read the message.

“We’re leaving now,” Spencer announced, shoving back his phone in his pocket. “We should go.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer before you turned towards him. “You know what? You should head out first. I need some time to myself.”

He furrowed his brows slightly. You could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn’t press on. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you replied. “Just give me a minute and I’ll follow behind.”

His eyes lingered on you for another second before he nodded, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “Sure, I’ll save a seat for you.”

You returned his smile, though it felt more like a grimace as you watched him exit the room. The click of the door closing behind him seemed to echo in the sudden silence, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts as the rush of emotions flooded over you. It felt as if you were standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to leap or retreat.

With a deep breath, you pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm the fluttering inside. But the truth was undeniable—you were falling for him, and you were falling fast.

#behind closed doors #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction #gifwriting

[thef1diary]

A Spoiled Surprise | M. Verstappen

Summary: Max, your roommate, wanted to decorate the house to celebrate your birthday. Inconveniently, you walked in before he was fully prepared.

— part of the Birthday Bash fics

pairing: max x fem!roommate!reader

wc: 1.5k

main masterlist taglist form

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

As your birthday approached, the familiar pang of homesickness settled in your heart. Being away from home meant that you couldn't celebrate with your childhood friends or family, and the thought of spending the day alone in your apartment weighed heavily on your mind. But little did you know, your roommate Max had made plans to make your birthday still feel like a proper celebration.

Max had been sneaking around the apartment for days, trying to plan a surprise for you, but it was harder than it seemed.

His determination to make your birthday special fueled his every move as he threw himself into the preparations with gusto. While you were in your room, he rummaged through cabinets and drawers, attempting to gather supplies, but he barely found anything.

Max set to work, his mind buzzing with ideas and possibilities. He meticulously planned every detail, jotting down all the decorations he needed to buy. Nothing was left to chance — this had to be perfect.

He left the apartment a day before your birthday, wanting to buy all the supplies he needed to decorate and to make a homemade cake. With his arms laden with bags filled with streamers, balloons and whatnot, Max made his way back to the apartment. Fortunately, you weren't in the apartment at the time, allowing him to hide the items until he needed to decorate.

When you returned, he was inconspicuously relaxing on the couch, but it still made you raise your eyebrows. "Did you end up going to the store?"

"Yeah, why?" He asked, attempting to be nonchalant.

"You didn't restock anything…” you trailed off, having checked the pantry. "Oh, um, I forgot," he reasoned.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at his response, but you decided to let it slide for the time being. "It's fine, I'll go tomorrow."

He nodded, a small smile growing on his face because it'll give him a chance to decorate once you're out of the house. However, he does feel bad that he's making you run errands on your birthday.

The next day, Max sat at the kitchen table, his gaze fixed on the calendar displayed on his phone screen. He couldn't help but notice the red circle marking today's date — your birthday. A mixture of excitement churned in his stomach as he could finally decorate.

As he heard your footsteps approaching, Max quickly minimized the calendar app and forced a casual smile. "Hey, are you going out now?," he asked, hoping that you would be out of the house soon.

You nodded, "yeah, just grabbing my keys," you gestured to the car keys sitting on the table.

"Alright, see ya," Max waved playfully, earning a confused expression from you.

Max watched you go, and once he heard the door to the apartment close, and the familiar sound of the key locking the door, he stood up.

He wasted no time in beginning to decorate the apartment. He started with making the cake first, mixing up the batter and putting it in the oven. While it was baking, he hung streamers from the ceiling and started inflating the balloons using the pump.

Despite his best efforts, time seemed to slip through Max's fingers like grains of sand. With each passing minute, the pressure mounted, and he found himself racing against the clock to finish decorating before you returned home.

He taped the 'Happy Birthday' banner to the wall and smiled since it was coming together. The ring from the timer startled him, indicating that the cake was finished baking, reminding him to pick up the pace.

He popped the cake out of the pan onto a cooling rack and let it sit on the counter while he went back to the balloons.

No matter how hard he worked, it seemed as if there were always more decorations to hang, more balloons to inflate, more details to attend to. With each passing moment, the pressure mounted, threatening to overwhelm him.

And then, just when it seemed as if he would finish in time, Max heard the sound of keys jingling in the lock. His heart leaped into his throat as he realized that you were back earlier than expected.

With a sense of dread coursing through him, Max frantically tried to put the finishing touches on the decorations, attempting to pump air into the balloon he was holding, but it was too late.

You walked into the apartment, holding a couple bags full of groceries with a curious expression on your face as you took in the scene before you.

"What's all this?" you asked, your eyes widening in surprise as you surveyed the half-finished decorations.

Max's heart sank as he met your gaze, knowing that he had failed to finish decorating in time. "I, uh, well, I wanted to do something special for your birthday," he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You stood in the doorway, a mixture of surprise and confusion flickering across your features as you took in the scene before you. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, balloons littered the floor, and a plain cake sat on the counter, the aroma of freshly baked vanilla filling the air.

A small smile grew onto your face when you noticed the banner, and your eyes softened as you took in the chaotic scene before you, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of Max's efforts.

"Max, that's incredibly sweet of you," you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I had no idea you were planning all of this."

Max breathed a sigh of relief at your response, the tension melting away from his shoulders as he realized that you weren't upset with him. "I just wanted to make sure you had a great birthday, you know, being away from home and all," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity.

You quickly placed the bags on the countertop, and stepped forward to inspect the decorations. "Well, you definitely succeeded," you said, reaching out to give Max's arm a reassuring squeeze. "I love it, even if it's not finished."

Max couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude at your words, a sense of pride swelling within him at the knowledge that he had succeeded in making your birthday special. "Thanks," he replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "I'm glad you like it."

As you both surveyed the scene before you, disaster struck. The balloon Max had been holding slipped from his grasp, and suddenly it was soaring through the air, bouncing off the walls and ceiling like a mischievous spirit.

You both stood there stunned for a moment, watching in disbelief as the balloon's chaotic flight filled the room. And then, without warning, you burst into laughter, the sound filling the room like music to Max's ears.

He couldn't help but join in, his own laughter mingling with yours as he watched the balloon land on the couch, deflated. In that moment, all the tension and uncertainty that had been weighing on him melted away, leaving nothing but a sense of pure joy and exhilaration in its wake.

Once the laughter died down, Max nudged you. "I still have to decorate the cake," he stated, glancing at the cooling cake resting on the countertop.

"Let's do it together," you suggested.

As you and Max worked side by side, carefully icing the cake, the atmosphere in the kitchen was filled with laughter and chatter. "Is this why you 'forgot' the groceries?" You asked, dipping a spoon into the bowl of icing and carefully spreading it over the top of the cake.

Max had a sheepish smile on his face, "I was busy buying the decorations, so I actually forgot about why you sent me to the store in the first place."

You shook your head with a smile, and reached across to grab a napkin, but as you did, your hand accidentally brushed against Max's face, smearing a steak of icing across his cheek.

You gasped once you saw his face, then burst out into laughter again, your stomach already beginning to hurt with how much you laughed.

He instinctively reached up to touch his cheek, but instead of looking upset, a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh no you didn't," he muttered. Before you could react, Max dipped his finger into the bowl of icing and flicked a dollop of it onto your nose.

"I see how it is," you stated, a playful grin spreading across your face.

With a laugh, the two of you engaged in an impromptu icing fight, smearing frosting on each other's faces and giggling like children. By the time you were finished, both of you had icing all over your clothes, hair, and even on the kitchen floor, but you couldn't remember the last time you had laughed so hard.

As the laughter subsided and you caught your breath, you couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over you. Despite being away from home, living with someone who was once a stranger, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

You held your arms out, stepping closer and embracing Max. He made a disgusted face, "you're all sticky."

You chuckled, "so are you, now shut up and hug me back."

He obliged, wrapping his arms around you too. "Thank you, this means a lot to me," you mumbled against his shirt.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @helenemandl6 @charlesleclercsonlywife @dreamingonbed @regalbanshee @landoslutmeout @barcelonaloverf1life @megudaeggu @c-losur3

#thef1diary fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #fanfic #fluff

[thatacotargirl]

Hi there, still accepting requests? For some reason I'm in the mood for some classic Elriel angst 🥺 maybe where Inner Circle reader loves her best friend Azriel and secretly knows that they are mates, but he was always in love with Mor and now seems smitten over Elain, so she's scared to tell him in case she gets rejected, and she doesn't want him to feel forced to be with her because of the bond, but he finally realises (maybe when reader is about to give up on him and go on a date with someone else or leave the night court) and they get their cutesy happy ending together 😊

Hi there! I absolutely am, thank you for the request! I’m a fluffy writer at heart so this is my first attempt at any kind of angst - I hope I do your request justice!

Inbox is always open for requests ❤️

Divider is from @tsunami-of-tears , you are an absolute genius! Thank you for making such beautiful dividers ❤️

Reader x Azriel one shot

"AZ!"

You hear screeching laughter from the library of the House of Wind and you feel your heart crack, your stomach drop, and your head spin, knowing exactly who that laughter is coming from. The strawberry pastry in your hand drops to the floor as you pop your head around the door, careful not to be seen, and see Elain balancing precariously on Azriel's shoulder. Azriel, who is known for his reserved nature, his lack of comfort for physical touch, has Elain hoisted on his shoulders and is guiding her towards the bookshelves so she can reach the book she is looking for. Only, he keeps pretending to trip, or to drop her, or to forget she's there - making her scream and grasp onto his arms tightly. In other words, he is flirting with her.

You feel tears pricking in your eyes as you slowly back away and close the door quietly behind you, desperate to not hear the laughter any more.

When you had felt the bond snap with Azriel 75 years ago, your heart had soared. You had harboured a crush on the Shadowsinger since the first moment you met him and to know he was your Cauldron destined mate had been the best moment of your life. Only, the bond snapped one-sided, and Azriel had yet to realise. Sometimes you would tug on that little golden thread, other times you'd yank on it harshly, hoping for any sort of reaction from him, for him to realise who you were. But nothing.

Instead, you watched as Azriel pursued an unrequited crush on Mor for centuries. She had no idea that you were mates, the only person that knew was Rhysand - and likely Feyre by extension. She didn't know how much it hurt to watch Azriel follow her around, his eyes full of metaphorical hearts. You saw the pitying looks from Rhysand every night at Ritas when Azriel would make a sly attempt at garnering Mor's attention, his back turned to you.

You and Azriel had always been close, he was easily the best friend that you had ever had. You could fall into comfortable silences with each other, neither of you particularly extroverted people, especially not by comparison to the rest of your family. But there was always a very clear line in your friendship and it was never once crossed. You'd hug, if the situation warranted it, you'd sit next to each other at meals and on the sofa, he'd help you if you asked; but you knew he didn't see you the same way that he saw Mor.

And now, Elain.

You had caught the pair of them in the kitchen just last week, laughing and covered in flour as he watched Elain bake. You saw them sat shoulder to shoulder in Azriel's study late at night, giggling over who knows what. Azriel had never looked this happy before.

You didn't realise you were crying outside the library door until you felt a hand on your shoulder and the sensation of winnowing around you. When you looked up, you were in Rhysand's office and clasped to his chest.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I told him to stay away from her, on account of her being a mated female, I thought he'd listen".

You could do nothing but cry harder. His feelings for Elain surpassed even an order from Rhysand - and Azriel never defied Rhysand. You heard the door open but didn't look up, too busy soaking Rhysand's shirt in tears. You felt someone pull you towards them and your body was engulfed in another, large male. You would know Cassian's scent from anywhere.

"He's a fool, y/n", Cassian whispered into your hair. You looked up at him, and then glared at Rhysand.

"I didn't tell him!", Rhysand said, holding up his hands in innocence.

"He didn't have to tell me, y/n. I figured it out a long time ago - for a Spymaster, I'm amazed he's so damn clueless".

You only cried harder, your head on Cassian's chest, mindful of his siphon. He held you whilst you wept, slowly guiding you both to the sofa in Rhysand's office.

"I don't think I can do this anymore, Rhys".

"Do what?"

"Stand by and watch him fall in love with every female that isn't me".

Both Rhysand and Cassian looked at each other, concern marring their faces.

"What are you saying, y/n?".

"I need to leave, Rhys".

You didn't know how long you intended to leave the Night Court for. Rhysand had spoken with Tarquin and had agreed that you would go to the Summer Court. You would find a home and work there, and Tarquin would allow you to stay for as long as you wanted - forever, if that was your decision. He had even lifted the ban on Cassian, allowing him to visit, but only if supervised by you at all times. You had formally resigned from your role as Night Court emissary and began packing your bags.

Mor and Feyre, teary-eyed, sat on your bed watching you pack - Mor secretly pulling out clothes from your suitcase so you'd have to re-fold them and stay longer.

"Mor".

"Please don't leave us, y/n. Azriel is an idiot, he's not worth leaving over".

You had told them about your mating bond with Azriel. Nesta and Amren also knew. But you'd been careful not to tell Azriel or Elain. You didn't want Azriel to leave Elain just to be with you because of the mating bond - you wanted him to be with you because he loved you. But he didn't. He loved her.

"I have to, Mor. It's time I get some space and find my own feet again. All these years have been taken up by Azriel and waiting for him - I deserve more than that".

She sighed, her head hanging in resignation. She knew you were right.

As you put the last of your clothes in the suitcase, you moved it to the door where your boxes waited to be transported to the Summer Court. You heard a knock, expecting Rhysand, but opened the door to a grinning Elain.

"Hi y/n! I was just wondering if you wanted to go..."

Elain looked from you to the suitcase, to the boxes, to Mor and Feyre's tear-stained faces, and then back to you.

"What's going on?".

"I'm going away for a little bit - just to the Summer Court. But you can visit, and I'm sure I'll visit here again".

Elain's lip wobbled.

"For how long?".

Feyre couldn't hold back her sob and at that moment, Elain realised you might be leaving forever.

"Why?".

You wanted to tell her the truth, but her sweet face made it hard to be angry at her. She didn't choose this. She didn't know that Azriel was your mate. She is just a young female thrown into a new world and making the best of it.

"Just need a change of scenery", you reply, forcing a smile on your face. You watch as Elain's face changed from heartbroken to panic-stricken, and she ran from the room.

"I think maybe that was one change too many for her", Mor sighs.

"I'll go after her", Feyre says, standing from the bed. She pulls you in for one last, long hug and flies from the room, hiding the new batch of tears streaming down her face. You see Rhysand standing in the doorway, his hand outstretched to you.

"Ready?".

You nod, taking his hand in yours and feeling his powers fill the room as he winnows you to Adriata, the Summer Court, your new home. You felt a lightness take hold of your body that had been missing for the last 75 years. A sense of calm and peace. Your heart was broken, but it could heal, you could find yourself again and feel happiness and joy at the small things in life, things you sorely missed.

But, if you'd have tugged on that golden thread one last time, you'd have felt Azriel's answering pull back.

Elain thundered through the House of Wind and up the stairs to the training ring on the roof. She burst the door open to see Azriel lighting the last of the candles that surrounded the picnic blanket, rose petals littered the floor, and a strawberry pastry sat on a plate in the middle. Azriel knew they were your favourite, and knew it had to be the food he offered you for the mating bond.

"AZ, SHE'S GONE".

Azriel whipped his head to the door to see a dishevelled Elain standing there, red in the face and out of breath.

"Gone where?"

"The Summer Court, she's left the Night Court, Az".

Azriel felt his heart sink. He had only felt the bond snap a few weeks ago and had been planning this night ever since. Elain, his new friend and confidant, had been helping him. She had helped Azriel find and read your favourite romance novels in the library to know what you liked from a partner, she had helped Azriel learn how to bake your favourite pastry so it would be perfect for you when you accepted the mating bond, she had taught him calligraphy so he could write you the love notes he knew you swooned over, the pair of them giggling at Azriel's attempts to be a hopeless romantic, and failing terribly.

He never imagined that you would leave before he could tell you how much he loved you. That you would leave without even saying goodbye.

His head reeled as he stumbled backwards. Without a second thought, he took to the sky, wings beating harder than they ever had before, towards the Summer Court.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Tarquin". You were in awe of the home he had provided for you in Adriata. A beachfront, two-story home decorated to the nines in shells and pearls. It was glorious.

"It is my pleasure, y/n. Please, do enjoy everything that my Court has to offer. This particular beach gives a beautiful view of the sunset".

With that, Tarquin departed - allowing you time to process your move and absorb your new surroundings. You walked down to the ocean, your beautiful new sundress blowing gently in the breeze, and felt the water flow up to your mid-calves. It was pleasantly warm, heated by a day of sunshine, as you watched dusk start to coat the horizon.

That was, until something crash landed in the ocean in front of you.

Before you were able to turn back and run, you noticed a black membrane bob up out of the water, followed by a blazing blue siphon. You heart stuttered as you watched Azriel swim as fast as he could to you.

"Y/n", he breathed, his hair matted to his face with sweat and salt water. In his hand, you noticed a soggy, crumbled, almost entirely disintegrated strawberry pastry. Gaping, you watched Azriel offer the pile of mush to you.

"Az?"

"I.... love.... you", he heaved, trying to catch his breath.

But you were pretty sure you stopped breathing altogether. You heard more noises behind you, and turned to see your entire Night Court family there, having been winnowed in by Rhys, Feyre and Mor.

"What is going on?".

Rhys stepped forward and offered you his hand.

"Let me show you". So you did.

Once joined, Rhys entered your mind and showed you memories from Elain and Azriel's minds. You saw the moment the bond snapped for Azriel, the grin that had taken over his face when he realised, the sheer excitement she had felt at knowing two of her friends were mated. You saw the conversation between them - Azriel asking her to teach him how to make your favourite strawberry pastry. You saw, from their eyes, what they were giggling about at Azriel's desk - the poorly written love notes, all addressed to you. You saw the book Elain was reaching for in the library from Azriel's shoulders - your favourite romance - and how they studied your tabs and highlighting like their life depended on it. You saw the picnic. You saw Azriel's heartbroken face when Elain told him that you had left.

As Rhys withdrew, you realised that you were crying. When you looked up, you realised you weren't the only one, your entire family was in tears - Cassian near blubbering into Nesta's hair.

Azriel loved you.

You turned to face him, still completely sodden and holding out the mush to you. You took it, grimacing slightly, and shoved the entire pile of it into your mouth.

"I love you too".

Azriel flew at you, grabbed you into his arms and kissed you like he would never get another chance. You dropped your shield and felt the bond overflowing with love, Azriel pushing all of his emotions to you, almost knocking the breath out of you once more.

"Come home?", he asked quietly.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again. Then paused.

"But, maybe in a couple of weeks?". Azriel looked at you with confusion, before his eyes suddenly darkened, a feral look overtaking his face.

"Aaaaannnddd, that's our cue to go", Cassian laughed, your family all grappling at each other to get out of there quickly, not wanting a front row seat to your show.

You paid no attention as you let Azriel lift you into his arms and carry you towards the beachfront house. You simply smiled, feeling comfort in the fact that, maybe, everything really was going to be ok.

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #azriel x reader #a court of frost and starlight #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel #azriel one shot #acotar imagine #acotar oneshot #azriel imagine

[wanderer-six]

Late Night

AN: this tweet changed my life I could not stop thinking about this i needed to write this i need you all to b thinking about this too

Relationships: Hunter x Fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: You and Hunter have been together for years now, living out a happy life on Pabu. You're spending the night together, and time has done nothing to quell your desires.

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, edging (it's ok he can take it), old man hunter im dedd 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2k I did not proofread this apologies in advance if it's bad I hope u can at least get behind the Vibes u feel me

It’s another beautiful night on Pabu. The sun set over the island hours ago, and the moon now bathes the ocean in shimmering silver. As the day wound down, so too did the residents; the paths that bustle by day are all but empty now as everyone settles in for a peaceful night.

All around the island, there is quiet. The only sounds you hear now are the gentle drone of the waves, and his heavy breathing.

Like all the others, you and Hunter retired to your bungalow, but rest is far from your minds. In the dark of your bedroom, you and him are bare, chasing off any chill from the evening air with each other’s warmth. Hunter, the man you’ve loved for a lifetime, is beneath you now. You balance your hands on his broad shoulders, riding him slowly, wonderfully, biting your lip as he meets your gaze with weary eyes. 

Even after all these years, making love to him still feels as amazing as it did the very first night you shared together. Each roll of your hips fills you with more of him, and you can’t help but whimper when he hits every spot you love. It seems he hasn’t had his fill of you, either. Though time has had its effects on Hunter, it certainly hasn’t changed the way he yearns for you. Even now, he hangs on your every movement, his vigilant eyes darting between your pleasured expressions and your hips taking his cock.

Deciding he’s gotten a little too comfortable, you descend onto his length at a different angle, allowing him to reach deeper than before. At the sudden sensation, a groan catches in his chest. Between his labored breaths, he chuckles.

“You feel so fucking good, cyar’ika…” 

Humming through a smile, you rest your forehead on his.

“You’re one to talk, handsome…” Your fingers trail through his hair, still just as long as when you first met, but having faded to grey some time ago. “I can’t get enough of you.”

That confident, effortless smirk tugs at his lips. You’ve seen it a thousand times, yet each time he wears it, heat still rises beneath your cheeks.

“Heh… is that so?” Though his once defined, sharp muscles have softened from years of respite on the island, he still feels as strong as ever when he grips at your hips. “I guess time hasn’t gotten the best of me in every way…”

At this, it’s your turn to grin. You know it’s been a few long years since the two of you last saw combat; with the clones’ advanced aging, those years have counted double for him. But even if you’re older than you once were, you know you still have plenty of time left.

And it’s when Hunter starts to pretend as though he’s moments from death’s door that you like to remind him what he’s still capable of.

Without warning, you melt against Hunter, draping your arms over his shoulders and crashing your lips onto his. His tongue dances with yours, and as his arms hold you flush against him by your waist, you begin to roll your hips more quickly. You move faster, harder, riding him for all he’s worth. You revel in every little noise he makes, the way his eyes flutter shut in pure bliss. His fingers tense, clinging to your hips so desperately as to leave bruises.

In the Force, you feel how close he is. How near he is to losing himself fully in you…

… and right before he hits his peak, you lift yourself off of him, robbing him of the only thing he craves in that moment.

Hunter utters a groan, wincing through the torment of his denied release. He leans his head back against the wall, and you can feel his heart kicking fast against his chest.

“F-Fuck…” he hisses through gritted teeth.

Despite his anguish, you can only grin. You lean forward, lavishing him with gentle kisses as he settles down.

“Easy, Sergeant,” you sing. “I’m not done with you yet.”

As you kneel over him, he dares to glance between your legs. You’re so tantalizingly close to his aching length, and though his desperation is clear on his face, he knows better than to think you’ll be so generous. Utterly helpless, he shakes his head. 

“I’m too old for you to be teasing me like this…” he mutters, a weak smile tugging at his lips. You roll your eyes at his self-admonishment.

“Oh, enough…” With a deep exhale, you rest your forehead against his, and your eyes fall shut as you bask in the feeling of him. For every experience you’ve had in every corner of the galaxy, nothing compares to having Hunter all to yourself. “I know you can handle it, even if we may not be young anymore…”

Though he’s clearly just as lost in your attentions, this remark has him prop an eye open to sneer at you.

“‘We’?” he repeats with a chuckle. Sighing, he runs his rough hands up the curves of your waist. “You’ve still got your whole life ahead of you—even if you’re wasting it torturing an old clone like me…”

Your eyes warm, and you bite your lip. With a dangerous twist of your hips, you grind against him, earning a deep grumble from Hunter’s chest. Your lips linger by his ear.

“I think I know my Hunter by now…” you purr, voice low enough to make him shiver, “and if there’s one thing he likes, it’s a challenge.”

Without a word of warning, you lower yourself back onto his cock, taking him deep inside as you begin riding him again. Hunter goes rigid, fumbling for purchase against your hips as they overwhelm him with pleasure. Nothing could ever thrill you more than the way he touches you. For as long as you’ve been together, he’s known exactly how to make your body sing for him. Even now, a desperate mess beneath you, his hands run along your skin purely by instinct.

And luckily, you know his body just as well.

Again, you fuck him harder. Again, you feel the tension in his core, the white-hot release building inside of him…

Again, you stop just short, lifting off of him right before he can come.

Your poor sergeant whines again, his head lolling back as his eyes pinch shut. Between your legs, his cock throbs, twitching in desperate need for the stimulation you’ve so cruelly deprived him of. 

“A-ah…!” Between his heavy breaths, chest rising and falling arduously, he moans in complaint. “You’re… fuck, you’re driving me crazy…”

While he grovels in such a sorry state, you’re no worse for wear at all. You place kiss after languid kiss up his neck, tickling his skin with your breath.

“I can keep this up all night, handsome…” Pulling away just enough to catch his eye, you don a mischievous grin. “I think you can, too.”

 In the face of your taunting, Hunter surprises you when his smile softens. He cups your face with a trembling hand, running his thumb gently along your cheek. You lean into his touch, admittedly falling victim to his sudden tenderness.

“Tell me…” he asks, “what’s it gonna take for you to let me off, huh?”

You giggle, leaning forward to nuzzle your nose against his.

“Hm… I don’t know,” you sigh, playing coy. “I think you might just be too old to manage what I have in mind…~”

With a chuckle, he pinches your cheek. “Try me.”

Pulling away just enough to meet his eyes, you flash him a charming grin.

“Tell me you love me.”

Through his lust-filled gaze, Hunter raises an eyebrow above a half-smirk.

“What… that’s all?”

You nod. “Mm-hm. That is… if you think you can handle—”

You’re cut off when Hunter’s lips catch yours, meeting you in a kiss so deep you nearly feel like you’re drowning. His tongue toys with yours, so desperate to taste you it makes heat flood beneath your cheeks. Still, you can’t help but smile against him. Though Hunter likes to act as though he’s old and grey, now, you know he’s far from gone. In moments like these, you feel the fire that’s burned inside him since the very beginning. It hasn’t faded in the slightest. You know it never will.

When he finally pulls away, he doesn’t stray far, lips ghosting over yours as he holds your gaze with intense eyes.

“I love you, cyar’ika,” he breathes, a solemn swear. “Always have… always will.”

For the first time that night, it seems you’re the one on the backfoot. Eyes wide and innocent, you’re touched by the sincerity of his words. You know Hunter, know that he does everything to the fullest. But hearing for certain that his passion would be yours for as long as you both have left… your heart can scarcely take it.

With sudden desperation, you press your lips to his, and you bury his cock in your warmth. He moans into your mouth, and you moan back, losing yourself to the feeling as you ride him again. Tense hands grip at every part of you—your waist, your ass, your shoulders—leaving marks on your skin as he tries in vain to bear the sensation. But it isn’t long until his resolve begins to break.

As a gasp catches in Hunter’s throat, his lips break from yours.

“F-Fuck, cyar’ika… I’m gonna…”

You already know. You feel his energy shifting—you feel how close he is. His delayed release has only built up to something more intense… but this time, you don’t back off. You indulge him, rolling your hips even faster than before. With what little stamina he has left tonight, he’s thrusting into you, and you whimper aloud as he hits every perfect spot inside you. You’re as close as he is…

And when you reach your climax, you’re amazed he can stay conscious.

Hunter buries himself to the hilt in your cunt, coming deep inside you. Your orgasm milks him for every last drop, and given the way you’ve tormented him tonight, he has plenty to give. By the time you’ve sucked him dry, his overstimulated cock still twitching in your walls, he’s quivering beneath you, completely and utterly spent. He breathes as heavy as he would during the war, on missions that would see him running for hours… You’re sure he’ll ache just as badly, come morning.

After taking a moment to recover, Hunter opens his eyes, gazing up at you with a precious smile. Gingerly, you tuck his hair behind his ears, supporting his head as you meet him in a feather-light kiss.

“I love you, too, Hunter…” you hum, voice barely above a whisper. “Always have, always will.”

The smile he wears is genuine. He tilts his head to catch your hand, placing a kiss on your palm.

“I’m glad. I don’t know what I’d do without you, cyar’ika.” He pauses, then chuckles bitterly as he closes his eyes again. “Even if you’re liable to kill me, putting me through nights like this…”

Your grin turns more playful. Slowly, you lift yourself off of Hunter, relishing the way he shivers as his length falls out of you.

“Be thankful I’m so generous,” you tease as you lay beside him. You rest your head on his chest, sighing in utter contentment. “If I weren’t, you would be in for another round… or ten.”

Hunter chuckles, voice reverberating in his broad chest in a way that soothes you more than anything else could. Arm wrapped around you, he traces idle shapes on your skin.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something meaner to treat me to when we wake up tomorrow,” he sighs. His gentle lips press to your forehead. “But for now, let me get some rest, huh?”

Giggling, you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck.

“Hm… all right. But only because I love you so much.”

The warm night air, the distant roar of the waves, the embrace of the man you’ll always love… you can’t imagine anything more perfect. But as always, Hunter finds a way to make the greatest things even greater.

“I love you more, cyar’ika. Always.”

AN: Thank you as always for reading mmwah mwah I hope you enjoy, always stay edging that old man ♥♥

#tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #hunter x reader #hunter tbb #tbb hunter x reader #tbb smut #hunter/reader #reader insert #W6fic

[notmyneighbor]

sway | female doppel reader x francis mosses

rating | explicit

words | 4.2k

alcohol, cigarettes, sexual content

ao3 link

The hotel cocktail lounge is like an open buffet for doppelgangers.

You’d really lucked out cloning that young, attractive, newly hired lounge singer, disposing of the original before she could cause any trouble. While so many of your brethren struggled to get into the heavily guarded, overcrowded apartments for shelter (and food, of course) you had the better fortune of landing a job at the swanky city hotel with the added bonus of a room upstairs to reside in. Working smarter, not harder.

Sure, you might not enjoy the aftertaste of all that alcohol that’s saturated the humans’ systems but hey, it’s still easy pickings for a hungry invader like yourself. You have a set of genuine documents that verify your identity, pilfered from your victim. No one even bothers to screen in the lounge, because if you’ve made it that far inside, it was too late to worry about it. The identification cards are still required, though, ensuring you’re the legal age to drink. Funny, what humans thought important, when their world was being devoured right out from under them.

Perhaps the most impressive feature of your stolen life is the fact that you actually like your new employment.

At first you’d balked at the idea of working for the humans, but you’ve really started to warm to it lately. You enjoy the music. The pretty gowns you get to wear. The admiring stares which you return easily. Meat regarding meat, right? The ones you liked the least became your next meal, lured to the parking lot, the side alley, hell, you’d even snacked on one in a housekeeping closet. You were careful to space feedings apart, though. Discreet. You’re not going to fuck up a good thing like this.

There’s a new customer at the bar tonight. You’ve been here long enough now to recognize who’s a local and who’s passing through, the regulars and the fleeting visitors. Another reason this was such a good place to hunt for prey—so many people coming and going. You tried to leave the locals alone and fix your sights more on the traveling folks instead. Their absences could be more readily explained. No one would notice them missing right away, and by the time they did, well, it was much too late.

In spite of the fact that he’s a newcomer to the establishment, you recognize the milkman that’s seated at the far end of the bar as a local. He looks as if he’s come straight from his job, with undereyes so smudged it seems as if he’s been working in a coal mine, not delivering dairy products. The bowtie around his neck is loosened and draped in careless wrinkles, the top button of his shirt undone. His cap is on the counter, next to a pack of cigarettes and a book of matches. After a few rounds the man serving alcohol had finally just left the bottle. You’ve been served free vodka between sets, clear like water but damn, that taste. You’d have to be pretty desperate to force that down straight on the regular.

Still, you nod your thanks and glance at the stranger again. He’s completely focused on the drink. Shame that, because the more you look at him, the more you find yourself appreciating his appearance. As wretchedly exhausted as his features are, there’s still something oddly appealing about his face. You study the way he swirls the liquid in the glass before taking a contemplative sip, the movement of the pronounced arch of his throat as he swallows it down. You’ve never thought of the humans as attractive before, but this one…

It wasn’t completely unheard of for doppels to have some fun with the inhabitants of this planet. It wasn’t always just copying, killing, eating. You yourself have never indulged. No one has captured your attention like this. Maybe it’s because he disregards you so strongly. Immune to the charms you’ve replicated. What was it he liked in a girl? You could make yourself look like anyone he might desire. The ideal lover, really. A new face and body to suit every mood.

There are other customers already gathering at your elbows, praising your singing talents, your beauty. You smile and murmur polite gratitude but you’re not interested in any of them. It’s that milkman you want.

Your target polishes off the last of the glass in front of him, dragging the back of his wrist across his mouth. He reaches for the sealed pack of cigarettes now, tapping the box against his palm to pack the tobacco tighter before peeling off the plastic wrapper and flipping the cardboard top open. He withdraws one of the cylinders inside and tucks it between his lips, next seeking out the book of matches. Red phosphorous struck, you can detect the faintest scent of it as the match is lit, the end of the cigarette now aflame, the match shaken violently until it’s extinguished, then tossed into the ash tray nearby.

Now your eyes follow the path of that lit paper roll, tucked between the middle and index fingers, brought to his mouth, the deep inhale and then exhale, a thin white stream of smoke clouding the air in front of him.

For a moment you allow yourself to indulge in imagining yourself sitting next to him. Lifting that cap off the counter and placing it on your own head, teasing him to retrieve it, staying just out of reach. Getting closer. Walking your fingers up his sleeve. Playfully tugging the cigarette free from his fingers and slotting it into your own mouth. You don’t truly understand the humans’ fondness for the nicotine laced tubes. You’ve never tried one yourself, only in a second hand kind of way after you’ve chomped on someone who indulges in the habit. But this man made it look appealing. You’re wondering at the taste. At the way it feels to breathe those substances inside.

Your name is called—not your real name, of course, but the identity you’d stolen. The manager, reminding you it’s time you retook the stage, break time over. There is some polite clapping, some whistles. The lighting changes as you take up your position behind the microphone on the stand, nodding to the musicians behind you. You have copies of all of the artist’s whose songs you’re covering in your room, an extensive selection of records. You’d learned the lyrics easily, and if you messed up during performance, no one seemed to mind much. The place was more about a feeling. A relaxed, languid kind of atmosphere. Unwinding after a long day of work. Taking a respite during travel. It’s Dean Martin’s sultry crooning you adopt now, your fingers stroking the stand as gently as if you might caress a lover.

When marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

You move your hips gently in time to the music. The light catches on the sequins of your emerald gown, making them sparkle. It’s low cut, molded to the curves of your body. You glance over at the man still seated with his back to you. You’re going to get this man to turn around and pay attention, one way or another.

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

You’ve descended the stage, bringing the microphone with you. Each table is draped in a white cloth, with a candle centerpiece. You move around the room, gifting attention to patrons at random, batting your eyelashes or blowing kisses from your painted lips. It’s all for show, all smoke and mirrors, concealing what your true intentions are.

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have the magic technique

When we sway I go weak

The range for the wireless mic is limited, so you can only travel so far. Your milkman is frustratingly out of reach, for the moment.

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

You return to the stage, and the tired looking human has finally turned on the bar stool to regard your performance. He hadn’t been here during your first set. It seems you’ve finally made him take notice. Your eyes lock with his as you sing the chorus.

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have the magic technique

When we sway I go weak

The stage lights snap off in time to the music, your fellow artists pausing for a dramatic effect before resuming playing as you reach the final verse, the lights now focused solely on you.

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

Applause. More wolf whistles and cat calls. You smile and thank the patrons, your gaze once again flicking toward the man at the bar. The cigarette in his mouth has been forgotten, the charred end lengthening, threatening to drop off on its own. He hasn’t touched the glass that he’d poured before you began singing.

You’ve got him.

***

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about the males of any species, it’s that the more you ignore them, the more they pursue you.

So you don’t follow up on the progress you’ve made with the milkman that first evening. Truth be told, you’re starting to get hungry, and the sweating man with the shifty eyes at the rear of the lounge looks like he’ll keep you satisfied for a couple of days, at least. It’s all too easy to convince the human male to follow you into the recesses of the alley between the hotel building and the warehouse next door, your actions concealed by the rows of dumpsters when your impromptu ‘date’ turns into a meeting with teeth and claws.

You get a night off from work in between sessions, allowing other acts the chance to perform, but word of mouth is quickly spreading your borrowed name as the favorite. It’s you the customers really want to see.

Wednesday evening arrives and your milkman is back. A beer in front of him now. No cigarettes today. He looks a little less rumpled. Bowtie fastened. His eyes are still bruised looking, though. Did the man ever sleep?

You’ve got a little time before you’re due to begin. You’re not supposed to favor any one particular patron, but you figure you’re a big enough attraction now that you’ve earned a little autonomy. You saunter to the bar—he’s chosen the same seat again—and lean against the counter. Today you’re clad in ebony. Same shape as the dress you’d worn previously, hugging your figure and leaving little to the imagination with its tight fit, the teasing bits of skin exposed through the slit of the skirt, the low dip of the bodice and the narrow straps keeping the sparkling garment hooked on your otherwise bare shoulders daring anyone to resist that offered temptation.

This delivery driver doesn’t look. He’s too polite for that, apparently, even though the way you’re leaning would allow him a great view of your décolletage. Or maybe he’s too shy. There’s a nice bit of color in his cheeks, blossoming after you’d approached, and you don’t think alcohol is solely responsible for that effect.

You reach for the ID card he’s left beside his cap, dropped there after entering the lounge. “Francis Mosses,” you read out loud, thumb smoothing over the DDD logo in the corner, eyes roving over the expiration date. The cards and the entry requests were tricky to get just right, especially if you didn’t know your target well enough or if the doorman was too astute. Or just plain overzealous. You wonder how many innocent humans had been unintentionally eradicated by the very person that was supposed to be screening for invaders and protecting them from harm.

“You go by Frankie? Or Frank?”

“My…my mom used to call me that. Frankie,” he adds for clarification. His cheeks are scarlet now.

You smirk, tapping the card on the counter. “Hmmm. But you’re not a little boy anymore, are you, Francis? All grown up now.” You boldly reach for the beer on the counter, taking a swig directly from the bottle. It tastes as putrid as all the alcohol you’ve sampled thus far, but that’s not why you’re imbibing it. The milkman stares at you, transfixed by your every movement.

“Better keep this somewhere safe. Wouldn’t want this to fall into the wrong hands—or claws—would we?” You rest a hand on one shoulder, tucking the card into the pocket of his work shirt. You see the nervous gulp of his throat, feel the warmth radiating from his body in that brief touch.

You complete your first set—five songs, running your total time performing just under a half hour—and begin making your rounds again, schmoozing with the attendees. Saving Francis for last.

“Wait for me by the elevators after I’m done. You know where they are?” Your lips are close to his ear. You can still smell his aftershave from what must have been early that morning. You hate rising before dawn. You much prefer the nights. Easier to hide. Take what you want. Feast.

“Yes,” he manages to croak out softly.

“Good. See you then, honey,” you purr into his ear, making him shiver.

***

The man sticks out like a sore thumb.

Francis is pacing restlessly back and forth in front of the elevator doors when you arrive later that evening after your last set, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable until you approach and then he freezes, standing rigid. Maybe a little of his natural instincts were kicking in, prey sensing predator. You’re not going to harm him; at least not unless that’s what he wanted. Maybe shy boy liked it rough. You would soon find out.

Wordlessly you push the button for the elevator and step into the carriage, gesturing for him to join you when it seems as if he is truly welded in place, forever stuck to the hotel’s carpets. You reside on the third floor, at the rear of the building. The room is generously sized and nicely furnished. You step out of your high heels gratefully as soon as you’ve cleared the door, one of the nuances of fashion that you don’t appreciate quite as much. They were really quite uncomfortable to walk in.

The human male hovers just inside the doorway, his nervousness radiating from him. You’re starting to wonder how much experience he has with females in general. Maybe you should have waited for a night when he’d been a little more intoxicated, when his inhibitions had been a little lower. But you’d been impatient. Careful about all those other details when it came to consumption, but this type of hunger, this lust, is a demanding mistress you aren’t accustomed to dealing with.

“Have a seat. Get comfortable.” You switch on the living room lamp and gesture towards the plush white couch and he sits stiffly at one end, his cap clutched by the brim in his fidgeting fingers.

You pull the hat away gently and toss it onto the coffee table, then sink down at the opposite end, not wanting to intimidate him too much just yet. You can see the pulse jumping in his neck. Such a lovely throat. You’re willing to bet the blood inside would be sugar sweet.

“You got a girl?”

“Uh…no. I’m single. I live alone. I have a daughter. Her mother and I…we all live in the same apartment building.”

“Hmmm.” Your polished nails drum on the arm rest. “That delivery job of yours stresses you out, huh?”

“It’s just the hours. Longer days. A lot of people don’t want to leave the house anymore, now that…” His voice trails off.

“Now that the doppelgangers have invaded,” you finish for him.

“Right.”

“You ever see one?”

“No. I mean, not that I know of. Kind of seems like the last thing you’d ever see if you did. That’s another part of what makes the job difficult. You don’t really know what’s on the other side of the door. Have you ever…?”

Every day when I look in the mirror, you think. You merely shake your head for his benefit.

“You know how to give a massage? My feet are killing me.”

“I, uh…”

“It doesn’t take much skill. You’re just rubbing.” You lift the train of your dress and shift positions so your nylon clad feet rest on his lap, stretching out across the length of the couch. You see the slightly alarmed look on his features and your voice is soothing, patient. “It’s okay, Francis. You’ve got this.”

His hands reach tentatively for one foot, placing one over the top and the other underneath. His movement are stiff, brisk, awkward, until you begin to hum that Dean Martin song he’d seemed to enjoy, making his hands slacker, softer, caressing the sore areas. You interrupt the melody to groan appreciatively, stretching further, letting your heels grind against his thighs. It’s starting to feel good. He has nice hands. You want them on you in other places.

You slide one foot closer to his crotch, gently stroking. He’s gone immobile again, startled. You drag both feet back and stand, now moving in front of the seated man, lifting your dress so you can straddle his lap. His hands reflexively reach for your waist. You dig your hands into his thick russet hair, tugging his head back slightly.

“You ever have any of those lonely housewives ask you to come in? Make a special delivery?”

“N…no. It’s just business. No one notices…”

“You sure about that? Maybe you’re just too polite to notice when a woman is hungry.” Your free hand tugs on the bow tie, loosening it. You undo the first two buttons of his shirt. You want a taste of that gorgeous throat of his, even if it’s only the top layer and not the succulent fluids below that you’re after.

The pleasant scent of that aftershave assaults you again as soon as your face bends to sample the arch. His skin is slightly rough, the facial hair he’d scraped away reclaiming its territory at this late hour. You lick from the base all the way up to his jaw, and the fingers on your waist tighten.

“You think maybe you’ve got one more batch you need to deliver, honey?” Your hand dives straight for the fly of his pants, pleased to feel he’s already becoming aroused.

A choked sound escapes the man’s lips. Maybe an attempt at a word that becomes garbled with incoherent pleasure. Your impatience is growing. Too many layers. Earthlings insisted on wearing so many. Your species didn’t care about that, in your natural habitat. You could shred them to pieces so easily with your claws, but that would mean revealing what you truly are, and you don’t want to do that just yet. The man is anxious enough as it is.

So you settle for using the human hands you’ve replicated to unfasten the belt and zipper and undo the button, reaching beneath the waistband of his underwear and dragging his cock free. Ample. Leaking. You stroke over it and he hisses, a feral sound not unlike one a male of your species might make. Your teeth nip his earlobe, tease his bottom lip before you finally sink your tongue inside his mouth. There’s the faint, lingering taste of alcohol, but you ignore that and instead concentrate on the feeling of that wet maw, stroking cheeks and tongue and teeth and palate, exploring thoroughly. You don’t even have to guide him to the straps of your dress, feeling them slid over your shoulders, then moving to the front of your dress to knead the further exposed globes of flesh there.

“That’s good, doll. That’s really, really good.” His fingers are beneath the fabric, pinching and rolling your nipples, making them erect. You like it, but it’s not where you need him most. There’s a wet heat between your legs that’s throbbing. A hollow space waiting to be filled, and the prick in your hands is perfect for the job.

You gently push on his forearm and he takes over from there, snaking beneath the slit of your dress, the seam ripping a bit as it’s still partially tucked beneath you. He pauses. “Shit, sorry…”

“I have plenty of other dresses. I don’t care. Touch me, Francis.” The lingerie you’re wearing is skimpy. Nearly indecent. Clinging, and he tears more fabric in his urgency to work beneath the pair of panties. His digits find moisture and you moan into his mouth. That was what you needed. The pads of his fingers rolling across your clit. Parting your lips. Digging into your entrance. He’s becoming bolder now. The desire coded into DNA so long ago to ensure the propagation of the species continues taking over.

Your head tips back as you gently ride a pair of his fingers. You’re still stroking him, keeping him slick and hard. Back at his mouth again. You like kissing him. A lot. It makes your insides flutter. You’re getting even wetter.

Eventually you move away. You have to, if you’re ever going to get what you need. You lift your dress and bend over the armrest of the couch, your panties dragged down just past the lace edge of your thigh high stockings. The milkman’s dick finds your opening and slides in smooth, straight to the hilt, stretching and filling you. Your nails dig into the fabric of the couch. You’re so tempted to let the natural claws peak out, to allow the gentle incisors lining the front of your mouth shift to the genuine, sharper cuspids. It takes tremendous effort to keep the monster within restrained. The bloodlust mingles with the other, surprising you with its intensity. You’d fed so well. You shouldn’t be this hungry again so soon.

The man’s hands grip your hips, aiding him as he thrusts in and out. He’s still holding back, still gentler than what you’d like. “Fuck me harder, Francis. I want that cock in as deep as it can go.”

He grunts, maybe a little surprised with how aggressive your words are. Nice young women didn’t talk like this. Then again, you’re not a nice young woman. Not really. You just look like one, bent over with your ass cheeks spread, letting a virtual stranger violate you. You fucking love it.

His hips slap against you a little faster now, a little rougher. You push back to meet him, matching his rhythm, driving him in even further. So good. He’s hitting a tender spot inside just right. You’re getting close to achieving orgasm.

Francis is, too. You feel it in the tremors that make his hands shake on your body, the breath that stutters in rasping pants.

“Fill me up, honey. I want every drop of that milk.”

Spurred on by this last request, he moans and you feel the wet heat of his release painting your insides. You tip over the edge at that exact moment, the walls of your canal contracting and squeezing his cock, making sure to extract every bit of his seed.

If the man had looked tired before, he looked absolutely exhausted now. Spent. Drained. He flops wearily onto the couch after pulling out. You drag your panties back into place and let your hem fall down, sliding the straps of your gown back over your shoulders as you join him. You’re a little tired yourself, after that brief, intense session.

“What time do you have to get up in the morning?”

“Four.”

You clench your tongue with your teeth, sucking in a sympathetic draft of air. “It’s midnight now.”

“Yeah.”

“You want to stay? I’ll make sure to wake you up on time. Set the alarm.”

“No. It’s too far from work. I still have to load up the truck in the morning. I’m better off going home.”

“Alright.” You’re not particularly upset at him declining your offer. You are curious about something else, though. “Are you coming back to the hotel on Friday? That will be my last performance of the week.”

He looks over at you. “Yes, I will.”

“Maybe you could stay over that night. You don’t work on the weekend, do you?”

“No. Someone else has that shift.” He reaches out tentatively to touch your cheek, his thumb stroking your bottom lip. “I’ll stay that night, if you want.”

“Yes. I want.” You lean over to kiss him, the gesture gentle this time. Soothing, like the song you’d hummed earlier. “Go get some sleep, doll. You’re going to need the energy for Friday night.” For just the briefest, fleeting moment, the glamour shielding your true eyes from view slips, and the milkman’s own flare in alarm. But then you’re disguised again, so swiftly you know he’s questioning if he’d really seen what he thought he’d seen, or if it’s just fatigue that’s making his eyes play tricks on him.

You couldn’t possibly be a doppelganger.

#francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses #milkman #thats not my neighbor #milkman x reader #milkman x you #the milkman #that’s not my neighbor #tnmn francis mosses #tnmn smut #divider @saradikagraphics

[flemingsfreckles]

Made From Love (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: you and Jessie decide to see if you can make a baby… for scientific research of course

Warnings: “baby making” aka smut, breeding kink, strap on use (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), oral sex (r receiving), dirty talk, mommy kink if you squint

WC: 2.6k

A/N: baby fever is crazy…

“You want kids right?” Jessie asked you. The question was a little bit out of the blue, but the two of you had just spent the day with Magda and Pernille and their daughter. You had spent a lot of the day watching Jessie with the little girl. Jessie was a natural with kids, and it made you want one of your own. You wanted to give Jessie babies, you wanted to parent with her. Seeing her run around, play, joke, and even care for their daughter when she fell down scraping her knee made your ovaries and hormones yearn for a baby. It seemed Jessie had been having similar thoughts.

You both had talked about kids a ton, on numerous occasions, discussing quantity and how you’d do IVF, the timing of it all. And yet here was Jessie asking again if you wanted kids.

“Of course I want kids. I want to have your babies Jessie. Believe me, if it was possible for you to put your babies in me, I’d happily be pregnant right now.” You’re not sure you actually mean that, you’re not sure you want to actually be pregnant, you more just like the idea of Jessie being able to get you pregnant. Down the road you definitely wanted kids with the woman but you were both enjoying life without the responsibility of another human.

You watch as Jessie’s eyes widen for a second at your words and then you watch her lick her lips. “I can try” she gives you a suggestive look, eyeing you up and down.

“What?”

“Let me try to put a baby in you.” You can’t help but laugh at her seriousness, she’s got a straight face, she’s not smiling, joking around.

“Jessie baby, that's not how biology works.” You tease her, putting your hands on her shoulders.

“Shhhh.” She puts a finger to your lips. “Let me try.” She repeats, her voice is a husky whisper. Her hands fall to your hips and she gently pushes you in the direction of your bedroom.

Finally understanding what she means by letting her try, you connect your lips with hers. Your fingers move to the back of her neck pulling her into you, kissing her harder. She hums softly into the kiss, her lips vibrating against yours. You let her move you, stepping backwards down the hall and into your bedroom.

She pulls back from the kiss when she feels your legs hit the mattress. Her hands grasp the bottom of your shirt and she gently starts to remove it. Your hands leave her neck, stretching them up and over your head to help with your shirt, you weren’t wearing a bra, having just been lounging at home. Jessie’s eyes trail down to your chest, licking her lips as she stares. “Lay down baby.” She says, watching you for a second as you move to lay in the middle of the bed. Jessie walks over to the bedside table, opening it and pulling out the strap and lube and placing them onto the bed.

You watch as Jessie removes her own shirt, still wearing a bra, tosses it across the room and makes her way back to the bed. She crawls to place herself above you. Her hips resting between your thighs.

Her eyes trail up from your waist to your face. “Hi beautiful.” She says, it makes you blush, even after all this time you have yet to get used to how Jessie’s compliments made your heart race. The compliments made your stomach flutter especially with her hovering above you. She leans in to kiss you, placing a few soft kisses to your lips before you pull her into you, your tongues meeting.

Jessie’s hands roamed your body, stroking your sides, down to your hips and thighs, she gently wraps her hands around to squeeze your ass, making you groan into her kiss. She pulls back with a cocky smile before giving your ass another squeeze and moving her lips to trail down your neck.

You can’t help but let your mouth fall open with a sigh, feeling Jessie’s warm breath and lips on your neck. She pauses when her lips reach the base of your neck where your collarbone is, knowing the noises you’ll make if she sucks. She latches her lips, softly pulling your skin into her mouth, the sensation has you writhing under her, your hips leave the bed, trying to get friction, you let out a small whine.

“Such pretty noises you’re making for me baby.” Jessie releases her lips from your neck, whispering in your ear before she sits up back on her feet. “I love you.” Her hands move to your hips where your sweatpants are tied.

“I love you.” You say and smile up at her. She doesn’t even get the chance to ask and you’re lifting your hips from the bed, encouraging her to take off your clothes.

“Needy for my babies aren’t you?” She pauses pulling down your pants and underwear, leaving them halfway down your thighs. She teases as you buck your hips when she doesn’t immediately take your pants off.

“Please?” You ask and she starts to pull down your pants and underwear, again. Unable to form any other words, your mind overwhelmed with the pleasure and arousal from Jessie and her words you just nod at her. Jessie pauses for a second before she pulls your pants over your ankles.

“Are you okay with this? If you’re not into the baby thing we don’t have to.” She looks at you with concern in her eyes. You two had never talked about this, the idea of a breeding kink, but it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about how hot it would be if she could put her babies in you. It just had never come up, you weren’t sure she’d be into it.

“I’m so into it. I want your babies Jessie.”

Those words encourage Jessie to move quicker, she gets your pants off and places her hands on your thighs, you open your legs for her, watching her face as she stares at your core, once your legs are spread she licks her lips before looking up to you. You both smile at each other, the anticipation making your stomach tingle.

“Going to warm you up, get you ready to take me.” She leans down, moving so her face is between your legs. She’s quick to bring her mouth around your core, her tongue passing over you. Your hands quickly find themselves tangled in her hair. You feel her moan into you, causing small vibrations. She gives you a few more long licks, taking her time tasting you before her lips and tongue move to focus on your clit.

You toss back your head when she sucks your nerves between her lips, her tongue giving it a few flicks. “Fuck, that’s good baby.” Jessie knew your body like the back of her hand, she knew exactly what you liked and how to get you off especially when using her tongue.

Jessie’s hands come up, one finding its way between your legs and the other taking one of your hands off her head and lacing your fingers together. She continues to eat you out, mixing between teasing licks around your hole and precise flicks to your clit. “Babe,” you groan, knowing you wouldn’t last much longer, between her movements and the way she had warmed you up you were already on edge.

At your word she removed her lips from your core, a sigh leaving your body. She looks up to you, a smile across her face as she licks your arousal off from her lips.

“You’ll get to cum soon baby, hang on.” She says before you feel her fingers at your entrance. “I just want to make sure you’re ready for me. I want you to cum around me.”

You knew you already were ready to take her, your level of arousal had you more than ready to take the strap, but you appreciate the care your girlfriend was putting in. Her two fingers make a few passes from your entrance to your clit as she covers them in wetness. She then pushed them in slowly, you feel your body already clenching around her, wanting more. She gives you a few thrusts, she must’ve realized how open you were for her already as you feel her third finger enter you on her next thrust in. Feeling more full you close your eyes, giving into the sensation of Jessie’s strong fingers inside of you.

She gives you a few thrusts gently curling her fingers with each one. You feel your walls already starting to clench down onto her. Just as you’re about to warn her you’re getting close, she pulls her fingers out, putting them between her lips and cleaning them off while keeping eye contact with you. You’re not sure how it’s possible but the sight of your girlfriend with her own fingers in her mouth, fingers that were just inside of you, fingers that are covered in your slick, turned you on even more.

Jessie moaned as she cleaned her fingers, moving at the same time to hop off the bed, ridding herself of her pants, leaving her in a pair of red boxers. She grabbed the harness with the strap attached and slid her legs through it, tightening it around her waist. She climbs back onto the bed, hovering herself above you. You can feel the strap resting between your legs, applying the slightest bit of pressure to your core, causing you to gently buck your hips against it. Jessie sighs as you look from where the strap was resting up to her face.

Her eyes are slowly scanning across your whole body. “You’re beautiful, I’m so lucky you’re all mine. So lucky I get to put my babies in you, our babies are going to be perfect.” You can’t quite place the look in Jessie’s eyes. She looks dazed, staring at your body as if she’s trying to commit every millimeter to memory. It was a look she’s given you before. She was staring at you the same way she did when she first told you she was in love with you.

“I’m all yours baby.” You reach a hand out to cup her cheek, you feel her lean into your touch. The two of you had plenty of slow and intimate sex, but something about this felt a step beyond that.

“Ready?” She checks in with you one last time. She places her body over yours, your stomach and chest meeting hers.

“Give me your babies Jessie.” You whisper up to her.

Jessie moves one hand from where she had been holding herself up to grasp the strap. She slides the tip of the strap along your clit, giving you some quick stimulation before she places it to your opening. Before pushing in Jessie moves her hand back on the bed next to your waist, leaning down to cover your body with hers.

“I love you.” She looks at you before starting to push into you, gently opening you up.

You let out a soft whimper at the feeling of her filling you, whispering “I love you.” She continues to push in slowly, letting you feel every inch of her.

“Fuck” Jessie groans as her hips become flush against yours. She adjusts her body, placing more of her weight onto you and her legs. Her hands come up from the bed, grabbing at your arms that were on her hips. She takes both of your hands in hers, lacing your fingers together and placing them down so your hands are beside your head.

Her hips start to pull back, she quickly looks at you making sure you were comfortable, the way your mouth was open, your head thrown back gave her the indication you were feeling good and she began thrusting in and out slowly. Each stroke she went as deep as she could, pulling out until just the tip remained inside of you.

Usually Jessie’s pace would pick up, her thrusts would become hard and quick, but today she kept them slow, still firm but letting you feel every movement.

“You feel so good Jessie.” Something about the slow drag of her strap making you clench hard around her. Your breathing picked up slightly as she continued. You start to notice the way Jessie grinds against you when she’s fully inside, likely giving herself some pleasure while also rocking the harness against your clit.

“I love you.” When you open your eyes she’s staring back at you, “I love you so much.” She repeats, you can barely see the brown of her eyes, her pupils wide as she looks back at you. Her cheeks a slight red, her lips parted, her baby hairs sticking out, she looked gorgeous. Her hands squeeze hard onto yours. “I’m gonna give you my babies, gonna make you a mommy.” Jessie lowers herself even further onto you, her head finding rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder. She’s able to thrust deeper into you with the new angle, your legs are wrapped around her back, keeping her close to you.

“I love you Jessie.” You mumble between moans into her ear.

“I’m going to put my babies right here. I’m going to cum so deep in your pussy.” Her hand comes down between your bodies to rest on your stomach just below your belly button. It’s not innately pleasurable but the warmth of her hand on your stomach and the words she’s whispering into your ear makes your core clench. She places a slight pressure with her hand and you realize just how deep she is inside of you.

“You’re filling me up so well baby.” You praise her, you knew she loved being praised in bed. The groan she lets out into your neck and slight bite she gives the sensitive skin told you just how much she enjoyed it. “Put your kids deep in me baby. Make me a mommy.”

It’s only a few more thrusts and grinds against your clit when you feel yourself tightening around the strap. A familiar heat building where Jessie’s hand was pressing. “Jess, I’m gonna cum.” You moan into the side of her neck.

“Me too baby,” she breathes out. She attacks your neck with her lips, sucking hard. You know you’ll have a dark mark but you don’t care.

“Cum in me.” You’re able to get the words out as the tightness in your stomach releases, pushing you over the edge. You feel Jessie moan against your neck where her lips were sucking.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna give you all my babies.” Jessie's thrusts become shallow until she’s just grinding her hips against yours, giving you the pressure you need to work through your high while rocking the strap against her own clit, bringing her to her orgasm.

She gives you one last sharp grind, her hips stalling against yours. She lets out a long moan into your neck, starting to grind slowly against you again. Your own head thrown back, eyes closed still clenching around Jessie’s strap slowly working through your orgasm.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” She whispers into your neck as her hips stall, still fully inside of you.

“Holy shit. I love you.” You breathed out once you both caught your breath.

“Fuck that was hot, you are so hot.” Jessie sits up, her strap still buried inside of you.

“I think we’ll have to do that a few more times, for scientific purposes of course.”

You and Jessie both got up, to clean yourselves up and made your way back into bed for the night.

“Babe?” You ask, you both lying quietly in the pitch black of your room. Her head resting on your chest. She looks up at you at your question.

“Hmm?” She just mumbles up at you.

“I’m so excited to have your babies someday, even if you can’t put them in me.”

She smiles up at you. “I can’t wait to have babies with you.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader #jessie fleming smut #jessie fleming blurb

[latenightdaydreams]

Werewolf König x Human!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, cnc, werewolf, knotty, breeding kink, biting, chase

3.5k word count

🐺

.

.

💖Set in the 1980s💖

.

.

It’s half past midnight as you hug your best friend goodbye. Her boyfriend had broken up with her, so you made the hour drive into the countryside to see her, but you work tomorrow so you aren’t able to stay the night.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Laura, your friend, asks. “It looks like it’s about to snow.” She looks to the sky with her sage green eyes, cheeks stained red from crying, but she still looks so beautiful.

“I can’t miss any more days of work, or else I would. I’ll drive safe, promise.” You hold your pinky finger out for her to wrap hers around.

“Call me once you get home, please.”

“I will.” You wave to her over your shoulder as you walk to your car. When you look up, you can see bright gray clouds and the full moon illuminating the night sky. You unlock your car and get inside, turning up the heater all the way.

 The radio turns on, Air Supply- “Making Love Out of Nothing at All”, blares from the speakers. Singing out with all your heart along with the radio as you turn your headlights on and set off back home.

The main road you take has no street lights to illuminate the path; only the light from your headlights and the moon to guide your way. When you look on either side of you, all you can see is dense woods with the occasional farm land.

Fluffy chunks of snow fall from the sky as the road ahead of you quickly gets covered. You turn on your windshield wipers at the highest setting. The snow makes the drive seem more surreal. As you have stepped into a Disney movie. It’s relaxing, to say the least.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can swear you see something big. You twist your head, trying not to look away from the snowy road for too long. Yet, you see nothing. You chalk it up to you being tired and seeing things. This area has no wolves, at least not anymore. They were all hunted into extinction or pushed out.

The drive only gets harder as the snow falls faster than what your windshield wipers can clear away. The visibility becomes so poor you can only see a few feet in front of you. Feeling your heartbeat pick up from anxiety, you slow your speed to 15 under the speed limit. You’d rather be safe than sorry.

.

.

König deployed to middle America twenty-seven days ago. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out extraction that went sideways. Two weeks turned into four. Panic set in as he realized he will change away from his restraints.

Day twenty-eight, he looked at his men with hungry eyes. Their fear of him becoming easier to smell and he knew he had to get away from them for their safety.

“I’m going to patrol. Make sure no one follows us.” He lies.

The sky beginning to turn a pinkish orange hue as he drops his weapons and runs. His heart pounding in his chest, dirt kicking up beneath his feet, he tries to get as far away from them as he can.

Looking up, the sky turns a dark blue as the sun is almost completely set. After what feels like an eternity of running, he finds an abandoned run-down farm. He makes his way inside the barn to make sure he is alone.

Once inside König quickly pulls his helmet off of his head followed by his mask. He drops to his knees taking in deep breaths. He can feel his body temperature beginning to rise rapidly and his senses begin to heighten. His pupils enlarge, turning his icy blue eyes black as he begins to pant. Pain consumes his body as he begins to change, his hands grabbing at his shirt and pulling the rest of his clothes from his body with haste.

“Argh!” König’s scream comes out deep, inhuman. His body begins to contort as he drops to the floor in agony.

His fingertips now sharp claws, black and grayish fur cover his body. Standing up from the floor, fully transformed, he takes in a deep breath before letting out a loud howl. He now stands 9ft tall. Taking a moment to adjust to everything he can’t stop sniffing the air. There is a scent, one that he has never smelled before. He follows it outside of the barn. Stepping into the moonlight, he begins to run on all fours in the direction it’s coming from.

König is blinded by his pure primal drive as he runs with one objective. He stops by a roadside and looks up to see a small ranch style home with two cars parked outside. A woman with her back turned to him hugging a taller blonde. It wasn’t the blonde he was here for; it was you. He was smelling you.

His eyes follow you as you walk to your car. It was too risky to run out and grab you now. When the headlights turn on his eyes; he squints, retreating back into the tree line. König stands on two feet and sniffs the air, letting out a deep sigh before dropping back down on all fours. He begins to follow you.

.

.

You lean forward as you drive to try and see the road better. Driving was becoming dangerous, but you’re still 45 minutes away from home. Out of the corner of your eye you see the dark shadow again. It’s almost as if it’s something chasing the car, but you chalk it up to just the shadows mixing with the heavy downfall of snow.

The car’s tires begin to struggle to grip the road as it quickly becomes slippery from the heavy layer of snow. You lift your foot from the gas to let yourself slow down more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself as you feel your heart beating in your ears. You absolutely hate driving in the snow, especially when you’re so far away from home. Had you known it would snow, you would have had Laura come stay with you.

Just as you did breathing exercises to calm yourself, something huge darts in front of your car. You slam on your brakes and turn the steering wheel. A panicked scream leaves your mouth as your car drifts out of control. Within the blink of an eye, your car slams into a guardrail that stops you from falling into a ravine. Your head hits the steering wheel and you fall to the side slightly, making the music blast. The song “Every Breath You Take” by the Police fills the car.

“Shit.” You sit up and rub your head, feeling warm blood on your fingers.

Reaching over, you turn your rearview mirror towards you to check yourself. The low light makes it hard, but you only see a cut across your forehead. Letting out a deep sigh, you look at the car through the windshield. It’s smoking, but the battery is still running, so you try to get the car to start back up. Nothing. You’re stranded.

Stepping out of the car, you’re hit by the harsh cold and the snow on your face. It’s absolutely miserable outside. You remember the last roadside sign said there was a rest stop about two miles ahead, you could definitely call for help there.

You go into your car’s trunk and pull out the flashlight you had back there in case of emergencies; much like the ones you’re in now. The snow crunched beneath each of your footsteps as you made your trek to the rest stop. If there is one thing you can be thankful for, it’s the fact you wore your winter boots today.

“Just my luck…” you whisper to yourself, your breath visible as you speak. The wind whistles all around you as you hug yourself with one arm and continue holding the flashlight up with the other. The night is eerily quiet, not one other car on the road.

You continue ahead and stay to the side near the tree line just in case a car came. You can’t shake the feeling of being watched, as if you’re being followed. In your head, you tell yourself that it must be just all of the anxiety. No one else is actually out here.

That is until you hear a branch snap. You freeze for a second, holding your breath, trying to listen. All you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling around you and your heartbeat in your ears. Just an animal… You think, but then you scare yourself trying to think about what size animal that was.

With nothing you can do, you decide to just push forward and keep walking. Each step you take with haste, as you feel the fear of being watched, might be valid. You try to not freak out and waste all of your energy running, so in your mind, you try to calm yourself.

Maybe it was only a deer. Deer are heavy and live here. Could have also just been a branch falling down…

To relax more, you hum to yourself, just a random tune you made up in your head. You look up at the sky to gaze at the moon when you hear another branch snap. You twist in that direction and shine your light. That’s when you see the reflective glow of a pair of eyes inside the tree line.

The eyes quickly move away, your stomach dropping. Your mind goes back to the creature you saw while driving. You look around before continuing on. Your once hurried steps are more of a light jog. Your mind is torn between the primal urge to run and the human urge to remain calm.

Just a deer, just a deer, just a deer…

You hear another branch and you jump, turning again to shine the light on it again. The eyes appear once more, closer this time. You let out a shaky breath as you feel a wave of dread wash over you. Just then, you hear a low growl.

Not a deer, not a deer, not a deer!

Without a second thought, you turn and run, continuing down the road. Your mind goes a million miles a second as you try to process what animal it could be; maybe even a stray dog. Either way, you didn’t want to find out.

.

.

König watches you closely. Your smell is intoxicating. Consuming his mind, he can’t stop pursuing you. When you hear his heavy foot snap a stick, he freezes; he can hear your heartbeat race inside of your chest. The smell of fear growing stronger by the second.

You shine the light in his eyes, and he cowers away from the brightness of it. He lingers as you walk away again, getting some distance between the two of you so it would be easier to follow you without being seen.

He keeps his pace, listening to you hum a song to yourself. Acting as if you’re unaware that you’re being stalked when your elevated heart beat says otherwise. Then he does it again. This time you’re quick and flash the light on him instantly.

His urge to get close to you is uncontrollable. Your smell…what is it? He needs you, craves you. You are his. He lets out a deep growl, feeling his body tingle. You hear it and take off quickly. This is the moment, his time to pounce.

He picks up his pace until he is ahead of you. Once he is, he jumps out from the woods and walks in front of you. Standing up on two legs, he lifts his head and howls.

A deep, truly terrified scream escapes your lips as you watch a 9-foot-tall creature stand before you on two legs, howling as a wolf. Your flashlight illuminates the thick, dark fur covering its whole body. This was the creature you saw running beside your car, the one stepping on sticks, whose eyes you saw glowing…

You turn quickly and run back in the opposite direction, towards Laura’s house. In a panic, you drop your flashlight, your only possible weapon. There is no time to stop and pick it up, as you can hear the creature beginning to chase you.

“HELP!” you scream into the darkness, but there is no one around to hear you. “PLEASE!”

Adrenaline courses through your veins as your feet slip on the snow beneath you. You catch yourself and keep going. Looking over your shoulder, the creature is gone. What the fuck… You stop to look around, panting.  

If it wasn’t for the claw marks in the snow, you’d think you were hallucinating. Laura's home is closer to you than the rest stop, so you continue running back in that direction. As the adrenaline wears off, tears fill your eyes, the rush of everything you just witnessed causing you to break down. You take a deep inhale before letting out a loud sob, your feet slowing. Allowing yourself to have a moment before collecting yourself.

You wipe your tears away, trying to steady your breath as you turn to look behind you. All you see are your own footprints now. The cold makes your nose leak as you wipe it away on your coat sleeve.

“What the fuck is going on?” You whisper to yourself as you sniffle.

You turn back around and freeze. Up the road you see a dark black shadow. Your heart rate spikes again. It doesn’t move, so you take small steps backwards. Unexpectedly, the creature walks away slowly back into the wooded area. Confused on which direction you should go; you just continue to go towards Laura. Clearly, no matter where you go, this thing can move faster. Everything around you is quiet; on high alert, your eyes dart around in every direction.

“Just keep walking. You’ll be at Laura’s in no time.” Your voice cracks, lacking confidence in your own words. It’s as if this thing was toying with you.

Your body shivers from the intense cold. In your mind you convince yourself that this will just be a funny story you tell her once you get there. She will make you hot chocolate and everything will be fine. You’ll be okay.

Just as you started to believe your own hype, your body hits the snow-covered road- hard. Your head hits the ground and your vision goes blurry for a split second. You can feel hands grabbing your ankles and dragging you back into the woods. In a panic you begin to grasp at the snow on the ground, trying to pull yourself away from it.

“Let me go!” You try to squirm, trying to make yourself difficult in hopes it will drop you.

The creature growls at you, refusing to drop you. It drags you through the cold snow, sticks hitting your face and scratching you. Finally, it drops your legs. You turn quickly and begin to scoot away on the floor.

This… this isn’t real. This can’t be real. You see a 9-foot-tall wolf looking humanoid. A werewolf? No, they aren’t real.

König takes a deep breath in, having you this close makes that sweet smell so much more intense. His eyes travel over your body. He needs to claim you. He steps closer as you begin to crawl backwards. A growl escapes his lips as he lunges forward, grasping your ankle tightly; screams going unheard.

His clawed hand comes up and rests on your chest, pressing you into the cold ground.  Moving slowly, his cold wet nose touches your neck and you wince. His tongue coming out and kicking you.

His hands grasp your winter coat, ripping his sharp claws through it. A burst of cold hits you as you try to fight back. You hit him in the chest and on his face. He grasps both of your wrists with one hand and holds you down.

With your coat torn open, the sweet scent gets stronger. He is getting closer. In a frenzy he continues to tear off your clothing. Your small body wiggling didn’t slow him one bit. Covered in goosebumps from the cold you feel his nose trail down your body until he lands between your legs.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs he begins to take deep breaths, it’s what he’s been chasing. He’s finally found his mate. The aroma of your cunt begins to make his cock hard. His fat tongue presses against the fabric of your blue cotton panties.

“No!” You try to kick him again.

His blacked-out eyes snap up at you and snarls before looking back down. Grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth, he jerks his head to the side; tearing your underwear off. You have half of a shirt on, your bra torn down the center. You’re basically naked, the snow still falling heavily. Other than the extreme heat from the werewolf, you’re freezing.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs, he begins to lap at your cold cunt. His first taste made him close his eyes; he has never tasted anything as good as you before. Your back arches, hands still restrained above your head. Squeezing your legs around him you let out a tiny moan. He responds with a low growl. All he can think of is getting your scent all over him and his all over you.

His hands move to your hips and pull you toward him. His hands wrapping around your thighs and spreading your legs wide apart to fit his body between them. His hips grind forward and rub his massive erection along your wet folds.

You look up at him helplessly as he leans forward to lick your face and neck. Slowly the fat head of his red cock begins to slip into your tiny little cunt. A loud groan leaves his lips as he feels you wrap around him. His claws dig into the supple flesh of your thighs as he rolls his hips into you at a rapid pace.

Hands grasping at the forest floor, grabbing leaves and pieces of your torn clothes. You try to crawl backwards but he stops you, growling as he pulls you closer to him again. He gives you a glare as his cock stretches you to the brink, you’re his now to breed with and you won’t be leaving until you’re bred.

He drops your legs and turns you over. Your naked body hits the snow and you shiver. His hands grab your hips and pull you to him so you’re on all fours with your ass in the air for him. His cock slips back in, making him let out a small growl. His balls slap against your clit as he bucks into you.

Moans leave your lips, feeling disgusted with yourself for feeling pleasure from this beast. He loves to hear your pathetic little sounds. König’s claws dig into your hips as he gets closer to cumming inside of you.

Panting loudly as he leans over and begins to bite your neck hard. You let out a pained moan, the bite feeling slightly pleasurable. Slowly, the pressure of the bite increased and it was almost like he was keeping you in place.

That’s when you feel his hands on your hips push you down more on his cock. Your pussy is already full. You squirm from the pain. The squirms don’t stop him. He is close now. His hands firmly pull you back again as he pushes forward and you let out a loud moan. Little did you know he was trying to knot you.

König was ready to cum. His teeth sink fully into your neck, causing you to bleed. He pulls you to him and pushes forward until it pops in- finally. Instantly, your pussy clenches around his bulbous knot. You’re so tight, his cock throbbing periodically as he cums deep inside of you. Making sure not even one drop escapes you.

His massive body keeps you warm as you lie there in pain from being so full. You try to move and he growls at you, still not moving his teeth from your neck.

Slowly, he moves his teeth from your neck. You try to move and lie down, but you can’t. You're attached to him. Looking back over your shoulder at him, he leans back in and licks your face before licking your neck where he marked you. Now you’re officially his mate.

He stays locked inside of you as he ejaculates until his knot slowly fades away. Almost an hour on the freezing cold floor. If it wasn’t for his body heat, you would have frozen to death by now. As König slowly pulls out, he looks down at your small body. His eyes focused on your stretched pussy. Gently, he lifts you into his arms and walks you to the barn. He would not let you go now that he has found you.

#tw: cnc #konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig x y/n #konig smut #könig cod #könig smut #könig mw2 #werewolf #werewolves #x reader #konig x reader smut #konig x you #cod smut #smut #cod konig #könig call of duty #werewolf!konig #werewolf!könig #lycan #lycanthrope #werewolf boyfriend

[thewritetofreespeech]

Gale x Tav

words: 1992

rating: E

pairing: Gale x Tav (post game pairing)

summary: since you all are so thirsty for an extended verison of the NSFW headcanons post, I guess I had to make one. I am nothing if not a servant to my people.

tags: magic sex (literally. but also metaphorically), exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation (kind of), Gale using magic for naughty reasons, projection!Gale

“Alright class! Please turn your alchemy text to Chapter 8, page 394.”

There was a loud, unanimous sound of rustling paper as all the students in the lecture hall flipped through their books to the requested text. You don’t know what Gale was always complaining about. This teaching thing wasn’t that hard.

Gale had to leave for a community conference of the Blackwater staff and some of the other schools of magical arts in Faerûn. Given that they were all wizards, you had asked why they all couldn’t just project their consciousness into one place and avoid the travel, but Gale didn’t have an answer for that and left earlier that week. In his absence, he had asked you to take over his Introductory to Magics class while he was gone. Given that it was an introductory course, which mostly meant learning the basics and text anyway, and you’d had ‘private tutoring’ from Mystra’s former Chosen himself, he insisted you were more than qualified to act in his stead.

It had actually been pretty fun. The young weave masters were all eager to learn. Honestly the hardest thing was keeping them on task with the subjects instead of running off with a lot of questions about your victory over the Elder Brain and recuse of the realm. It was flattering, but not apart of the testing materials.

The students all wait patiently with their books open for you to begin, and you turn around to the blackboard. All of a sudden you felt a twinge between your legs. Not a painful one but more….

“Professor [Y/N], are you alright?”

You turn to look over your shoulder at the class, clearly spaced out for a moment, before you smile and tell them, “oh yes. Sorry. Let’s talk about alchemy then.”

You begin to write and talk to the class when you feel the sensation again. It was faint, but distinct. At first you thought it was just the seam of your trousers rubbing against your apex. But it was too consistent for that. The sensation would come. Then the sensation would go. You tried to keep your mind on the lesson but the more it came & went you had to wonder what was going on.

It couldn’t be Haarlep. Despite your adventure being over, your contract with the sex demon wasn’t. He still used your form from time to time, though your popularity in Avernous seemed to be waning as he hadn’t called on it in some time. If it were him the sensation would be constant, before fading away like a breathless sigh off your lips. So it was something else.

By the time you get through explaining the 4 key groups of alchemy, and made it to page 396, the sensation had crawled up from your core and just to the pit of your belly. You were having a harder time focusing on the lesson. Your attention now spilt between 50% focused on what was happening to your body, a mere 10% on the lecture, and the rest on the stimulating sensation between your legs that was just too pleasurable to resist.

To save face, and avoid any embarrassment like moaning out loud in from of a class full of minors, you quickly pivot the class schedule into independent study. Telling the students to go out around campus and find 5, no 15 herbs, floral, whatever to craft with for tomorrow morning’s follow up lecture on application.

Some of the students seem confused. While other just look excited to have the afternoon off for ‘foraging’. Still, the all leave rate orderly while you wave them off, and just as the door closed behind the last one you let out a deep breath you didn’t really you were holding and brace your hands against the desk.

Your body felt like it was on fire. Teased, tormented, toyed with. Your hands still splayed on the desk, you spread your legs and let out a moan. Conventionally thinking would lead on to believe that rubbing your thighs together would make the sensation stronger, yet somehow spreading them apart made more room for…whatever this was to work. Your clit throbbed at the feeling of something rubbing against it. If they weren’t in front of you, you would have sworn it was your own hand touching you, the sensation was so similar. Your fingertips twitch at the thought. Prepared to slide down the front of your pants to finish you off.

“Hello there!”

You jump with a start. Eyes wide in alarm at the sound of a voice. The immediate thought coming to mind that another professor has come to ask why the entire Introductory to Magics class is out picking herbs & flowers instead of being in a classroom and caught you on the cusp of a very public private moment. Thankfully, it wasn’t. Only Gale’s Mirror Image projection standing there looking cheerfully at you. “Gale? What are you doing here?”

“I assume you mean what is Gale doing sending me here.” The clever non-corporeal remarked. “Gale has sent me here to see how his new technique is working out. And, judging by your flushed cheeks and wanton appearance, I would say it’s going splendidly!”

Your brain struggled to gather all the bits of information the projection was dealing out through your fog. But you gather enough to finally understand what’s going on. “Gale did this to me!”

“Doing. He is doing this to you ma’m.” As if to prove a point of the explanation, there was another, firmer press of rubbing against your clit. One that made you moan again and knees nearly buckle. “Gale has informed me, to tell you, that he enchanted one of the stones on his ring to be linked with your…well…your own stone. He also wants me to tell you it’s the ruby one. On the silver band.”

The one you bought him. “Can I ask…mmm…why he did this?”

“You can ask! He says it was to give you pleasure while he was away. Long distance relationship can be tricky.” It had been less than a week. “He thought this would be a good resolution in the intermedium. And, perhaps other times in the future.”

You’re not sure if you should feel violated by Gale’s magical molestations or marvel at his creativity. It didn’t really matter in the end because all you could think about was the nagging need to cum. And one other nagging thing – “and you couldn’t possibly wait until I was home to try out this new technique? I’m in the middle of teaching your class. I’m still at the academy! What if someone comes in here right now??”

“Oh. Not to worry. Gale has informed me that the door is magically locked until 2:30 this afternoon. Something about office hours? No one can enter until after that time. Does that help answer your question?”

You let out another long, heavy sigh. One of abject relief and feeling your legs give way as you fall back into Gale’s chair. All the energy sapped from your body as you gave way to the pleasure that had been bubbly up. No longer holding it back, but instead letting it wash over you.

“Gale says he’s happy you like your present.”

You open your eyes. Seeing the projection staring at you with a blank, but soothing expression. Those unending eyes seeming to look right through you. Or perhaps, more to the point, stare past itself and straight to Gale. It was kind of hot. The coolness of its gaze. “My present, eh?”

The projection nodded. “Yes. He says he did this for you.”

“Just for me?” You unbutton your blouse. It had been feeling terrible constricting for quite some time now anyway. The projection doesn’t say anything. Nor does its expression change more than the slight tilt of it’s head, as the fabric gave way to relieve more skin and the outline of your breast in their bra.

“He says yes. But the pockets of his mind I can access independently lead me to believe it’s not purely altruistic.”

You giggle at the projection’s honesty, before your laughter turned into moans. The feeling on your clit more intense. As if Gale was trying to change the conversation.

“Fuck…Gale….” Your back arched off the back of the chair for a moment before it came back down again. “I can’t take it anymore. Are you as anatomically correct as before?”

“Hmm…I believe so.” The projection looked down at itself. Seeming to ponder the concept, as well as all its parts. “But Gale has instructed me that he’s not interested in me using that ability with you. The time in Shar’s Caress was due to the other guests in attendance. With you, Gale wants you all to himself.”

There was an odd feeling of arousal at Gale’s possessiveness, even against himself in a way, but also disappointment. You were close. But the sensation from Gale’s ring to your core wasn’t enough. You needed more.

Just as you were again about to shove your own hand down your pants, you feel a new sensation of hands on you. Not just one hand, or two, but multiple hands. Mage hands. They play with your breasts, your nipples, your ears, your hair. You lean back in Gale’s chair with your eyes closed. Moaning and panting with a white-knuckle grip on the arm rests as the invisible hands play with your body. One finally gives you what you want. Phantom appendage digits thrusting into your inner core, wet and hot.

Your hips jerk up as you let out a wordless scream before the fall back down and you let it fuck you. Legs wide. Blouse open. Mouth agape as Gale abuses his power to abuse your body in the most pleasurable way possible. You’re about to cum probably harder than you’ve ever cum in your life and your pants were still on. How insane was that?

You open your eyes, half lidded and only for a moment, to see the projection still staring at you as you fall apart. Then, you finally do. You cum hard. Bowing back off the chair so hard you hear it creak, before you fall back limp against the soft leather.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

You look up at the projection again. Trying to catch your breath and right your world again. “Yes.”

“Good. Gale is glad you did. He also says that it’s made up for a rather dull afternoon of meetings.” A shiver ran up your spine at the thought that Gale had done all of this during a meeting. “The time is now 2:00. If you would like to freshen up, I suggest you make haste before 2:30 when the doors reopen. Gale says that enjoys how you look right now, but it is probably not appropriate for academia.”

“Then maybe don’t do this at ‘academia’ locations.” You quip back as you smooth out your hair.

“Fair.” The projection agrees. “Gale would like to know if you would like to do this again then when you are not in academia. Perhaps tonight? At home?”

You bite your lip at the thought of it. Doing this all over again, only this time naked in your bed. Perhaps even able to participate more now that you knew what was going on. “Absolutely.”

“Splendid!” The projection offers you a smile before it fades. Disappearing with a last, “see you tonight” as it reabsorbed back into the weave.

Alone again, you stand on shaky legs and try to right yourself for the next class. You still had two more classes to teach before you could go home that evening and become Gale’s play thing again.

The thought made it completely impossible to be totally focused on your lesson plan. You may have told some impressionable young wizards that Fly and Feather Fall were absolutely the same spell. Oh well. Mistakes happen.

#;pen & paper (fanfiction) #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 scenarios #bg3 imagine #imagine #scenarios #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate scenarios #baldur's gate imagine #baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate scenarios #epilogue gale #tav #bg3 tara #tara #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #baldur's gate smut

[memphisflash]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐰

⊱ word count: 3,9K

⊱ warnings: dead dove do not eat!, stepbrother!elvis, stepsister!reader, reader hates elvis but honestly... not really, reader is a virgin but not completely clueless, ages are not mentioned but i figured reader is somewhere around 17/18 and elvis 21/22ish, very dom!elvis, non-con/dubious consent, strong language, pwp, smut; semi-public, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (m. receiving), forced deep throating, first time penetration, reader bleeding on elvis as he breaks her hymen, he pretty much splits her open OKAY, creampie, crying during sex. MDNI!!!

⊱ authors note: it's kinda short bc i wrote it in like an hour- i was too excited, lol. proof read it once bc the more i read it, the more i hate it, ANYWAYSSS. i probably missed a few triggers here or there, so if i did, let me know! my first darker fic, but knowing how much y'all love the feral stuff, i'm sure it's considered tame to some. ha! anyways hope y'all like, and don't forget to interact- i love reading what you guys think!! <333

⊱ dead dove masterlist | main masterlist

If there was one person you hated the most in the world, it had to be Elvis Presley.

You didn’t even have a good reason for it, you just did. Couldn’t stand the sight of him – that stupid crooked grin that tugged at his lips, which looked way too soft by the way, and had all your girlfriends swooning over. Those eyes that were oh so blue and able to turn a shade darker whenever he was moody. The way he knew how to push your buttons.

Every single time.

He was capable of making your blood crawl, getting you so annoyed and angry at some points where all you wanted to do was cry. You never did, though. Couldn’t let him catch you spilling tears over him because he’d never let you live it down.

Long story short: you cursed the day your mother married his father.

Vernon was a nice man and your mother genuinely seemed happy with Mr. Presley, which is what you still called him despite his protests. And you were a good girl, the perfect daughter – you weren’t going to get in between your mother and Elvis’ father just because you despised the Presley boy.

You were just going to bite your tongue and suck it up… even on this damn road trip that your mother and stepfather deemed the perfect opportunity for the family to bond.

You hated Route 66 for existing. Crossing eight states and three time zones on the backseat with Elvis? Your own personal hell.

“Stop hoggin’ the damn blanket.” Elvis hissed at you as he tugs on the fleece blanket you had draped over your body, while flipping through one of the dozen magazines you either brought from home or bought at the last gas station.

The sun had set a little while ago and you lost interest in the barely able to see view. The only thing you knew was that you were in Missouri, the second state. Six more to go.

“It’s my blanket. I told you to get yours out of the trunk.” You snap back at him, though keeping your voice low as you’d noticed your mother drifting off to sleep in the passenger seat in front of you.

Elvis rolls his eyes and tugs on the blanket a little harder, succeeding in stealing most of it and exposing your bare legs. Before you had the chance to protest, he was scooting a little closer and draping the fluffy blanket over the both of you.

“Where’s the fun in usin’ my own?” He smirks as he pulls it up so it was covering the both of you up until your shoulders, causing your magazine to crumble under the fabric. You scoffed in annoyance and glared at him, blue eyes holding a mischievous gleam in them as they looked up at you, your stepbrother having put his chin on your shoulder.

“Ugh, get off of me, Elvis.” You groaned softly, lifting your shoulder which forces him to pull back a little. You wanted to scoot away from, because why does his cologne smell so good?!, but you couldn’t. Trapped between the car door and his larger frame, you had absolutely nowhere to go.

And Elvis only intensified the sense of being trapped by sliding his arm around your waist under the blanket, pulling you in his side. Grin plastered on his face, he didn’t break eye contact once.

“I’m bored, sis.”

“I’m not your sister.”

“Yes, you are,” He whispers lowly as he grips onto your hip, squeezing it firmly as he leans in a little closer. “Our parents are married, remember? That makes me your brother. Older brother, in case ya forget.”

Your heart skipped a beat, breath hitching in your throat. You hated him, you hated him, you hated him… but then why did it feel so good to have him this close to you?

And oh so dangerous. So damn dangerous.

“Your father is r-right there, Elvis,” you whisper as your eyes shift to Vernon, who had his eyes on the dark road ahead, fingertips softly tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the song that was softly playing on the radio.

Elvis chuckled softly, as if to say he didn’t care. And he didn’t. The blanket was covering the both of you completely and it was too dark inside the car to see what was going on. He knew for sure his father wouldn’t take his eyes off of the road.

“All the more reason to keep quiet.” He simply says and you didn’t expect his next move as he slips his hand in the pyjama shorts you’d put on in the toilet of the last gas stop. He didn’t waste any time, obviously eager to get his hands on you, as his hand had slipped right in your panties at the same time.

Maybe it was intentional, maybe it wasn’t. But it had you gasping softly, the magazine which had been clenching in your hands dropping to the floor.

“Elvis, n-no,” You grab his wrist when you feel his fingertips sliding down your slit, parting your lips for him so he could feel if you were wet or not.

You were, but definitely not enough to get fingered on the backseat of your parents’ car.

He pulls his hand out of your shorts and out from underneath the blanket, holding his fingers in front of your mouth. “Make ‘em wet.”

You look at him, eyes widening as your cheeks flush. Your eyes shift over to Vernon again, who wasn’t suspecting a thing, but your paranoia was growing. Shaking your head at the older male next to you, you keep your lips firmly shut.

“Lick my fingers or I’ll move this blanket away. Now, Y/N.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a suggestion. It sounded a god awful lot like an order.

Scared that he would actually follow up on his threat, you slowly part your lips as you look at him, a warmth spreading throughout your belly as you wrapped your lips around his digits and suck on them. He grins as he presses them against your tongue a little, before the wet muscle swirls around his fingers for a few seconds.

He’s quick to restract his fingers out of your mouth and move his hand under the blanket again, slipping into your shorts and panties once more. He raises an eyebrow as he glides his fingers down your slit, opening you up again and feeling you’d grown a little more wet.

The way his fingers were exploring you so shamelessly yet so sneakily in the enclosed space of the family car had your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from growing wetter and wetter.

You were aware of how wrong this was, yet you did absolutely nothing to stop it. And neither did Elvis – if anything, he seems to be enjoying himself thoroughly.

“You like this?” He whispers as he looks at you, grinning smugly at the way you’re trying to keep your face neutral, lips pressed firmly into a thin line, brows slightly frowned. “Havin’ your brother feel you up in the backseat?”

You huff out a little sigh of air, trying to clamp your thighs together but every time he feels you’re doing it, he pinches your thigh until his other hand finds home on your left thigh, keeping your legs spread enough for his liking. “You’re n-not.. my.. b-brother..”

He laughs softly, making sure his father doesn’t hear it and tilts his head a little as he looks at you. Without warning, he slips his middle finger inside of your cunt, making you let out a quiet gasp. You clench around him instantly, and he smirks. “I think I am. Nah, I know I am and so do you, honey.”

Your eyes nearly roll back at the pet name and you truly hate yourself for being this weak. For liking this, having his finger push into you knuckle deep.

You couldn’t answer him as he started pumping his digit into you, movements still somewhat restricted because of your shorts. But that didn’t bother nor stop him for a second.

As if your body had a mind on its own, you were pulling your legs up a little, feet pressed against the edge of the seat. Clawing at his arm, not knowing if it was to get him to stop or to just have something to hold onto it. You didn’t know, didn’t know anything anymore as your brain was growing fuzzy.

You weren’t all that experienced when it came to sex – only ever having been felt up by a boy you liked during summer vacation last year and he didn’t exactly put it inside you.

Neither his finger, or his cock.

The only thing that’s ever been inside of you had been your own finger and even your own slender digit had been a stretch, not able to fit fully. You were a virgin and here you were, getting fingered by your brother. Stepbrother, you forcefully reminded yourself.

Your virginity was not something you were planning to tell Elvis about – he’d tease the hell out of you for it. At least, that’s what you thought he would do. Either way, you weren’t going to say anything.

His finger stretching you open wider than you’d experienced before was just something you were going to soldier yourself through.

“So goddamn tight,” Elvis grunted lowly next to you, allowing you to hide your face in his chest a little, making it seem as if you were catching up on some sleep. “Think ya can take ‘nother finger?”

No. Definitely not.

“Y-Yes..” You muffle in his chest, biting down on the fabric of his shirt as he shoves his ring finger inside of you as well, making your eyes roll back.

God, you couldn’t believe you were doing this. Allowing this to happen. If Vernon decided to look through the rearview mirror or your mother woke up, the both of you would be disowned.

Surely.

You didn’t have much time to worry about it though, because the slight sting of Elvis’ fingers stretching you out has you softly panting in his chest. You were clenching around him visciously so and it has him cursing under his breath.

Neither of you were paying attention to anything else, but as the car pulled up into a parking lot just as the sting was disappearing and you were relaxing a little more around Elvis’ fingers, the two of you were rudely interrupted by a neon light shining into the car as Vernon parked under it.

Elvis moves quick – pulling his fingers out of you and out of your clothing, he creates more space between the two of you and gives you most of the blanket to cover yourself with. He looks at you as he smirks, bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck your slick off of the digits, shooting you a wink as Vernon announces this is the motel they’d be staying at for the night.

If your cheeks weren’t flushed already, they deepened in shade even further and the image of him licking his fingers clean stayed imprinted on your brain as you got out of the car and your parents booked the rooms.

As if God was playing an awful joke on you, Vernon and your mother decided you and Elvis could share a hotel room together.

“To bond. I’m sick of you two fighting.”

Those had been your mother’s exact words – if only she knew what had happened between the two of you when she was sleeping in the passenger seat.

You should’ve known that being alone in a motel room with your stepbrother wasn’t going grant you the privilege of sleep.

Having never seen a cock in your life, other than from seeing it in pictures and getting a general description of it from your girlfriends, you had nothing to compare it to.

But the one that belonged to Elvis was pretty.

Big too, which scared the hell out of you, but you figured as long as you’d keep playing with it with your hands and mouth, he wouldn’t be in a rush to take things a step further.

Laying completely naked on your stomach in between Elvis’ legs, because he’d pretty much tore your clothes off of you as soon as the door closed behind you, your little jerk off session was interrupted by his own hand wrapping around his girth. He looks down at you with a little smirk on his face, guiding his tip across your lips.

You were nervous and turned on at the same time. Nervous because you were afraid you weren’t going to be good at this, but your lips parted nonetheless. Looking up at him, you liked seeing his reaction when your tongue hesitantly licked at the soft skin of his tip when he pulled his foreskin down – gasping softly, his eyes fluttering shut.

He keeps his hand wrapped around himself until you wrap your lips around his tip, frowning a little at the foreign taste of his precum on your tongue but you forced yourself to continue. You squeezed your eyes shut as you concetrated on the task of taking him in deeper, immediately gagging as he took his hand away and you felt his tip caressing the back of your throat.

As soon as you went to pull back, he placed a hand on the back of your head and looks down at you with a teasing, nearly mean, chuckle when he saw your eyes shooting open and widening. “Keep goin’, sis.”

You whine around his cock as his fingers tangle in your hair, keeping you right where you were, and your throat spasms frantically as he keeps you pushed down, not allowing you to move. Tears blurred your vision as they formed on your lash line, unable to stop yourself from gagging.

You couldn’t breathe.

He was choking you with his cock.

Panic settles in your chest and you place your hands on his thighs, trying to push yourself off and create distance, but his grip was stronger. And he wasn’t letting up.

“Breathe,” he cooes, his voice sounding sickeningly sweet but you didn’t miss the taunting tone in it. “Through y’er little nose. Breathe.”

You try to do as he says and he watches you struggle for a little while, the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks and your flushed cheeks making his cock twitch on your tongue. But he decides to go at least a little easy on you and tugs on your hair, pulling you off of his cock.

You immediately gasp desperately for air, a string of saliva connected from your tongue to his cock. You looked at him through the tears, your head tilted back because he was still tugging on your hair.

“Look at that, droolin’ all over my cock.” He smirks as he watches you lick your glistening, swollen lips.

You were even more wet than you were in the car. So damn wet. Rubbing your thighs together to create some kind of friction, you barely recognized yourself as you realised you were actually liking this.

“A-Again..”

“Again?” Elvis raises an eyebrow, letting out a laugh. You nodded, not caring about how eager you seemed.

He slowly lets go of your hair and with a shit eating grin on his face, he puts his arms under his head and gets comfortable against the pillows. “Be my guest.”

It was truly pathetic how fast you’d taken his cock back in your mouth, slobbering all over it like a bitch in heat. But you were so horny that you couldn’t get yourself to stop, even if you wanted to.

This time, you were deepthroating him on your own. Taking him in so deep that your nose was pressed into his pubes, cockhead assaulting the back of your throat. The whole time you practiced breathing through your nose but you failed at times because the way Elvis was grunting and groaning had you moaning around him, which forced you to have to pull up again to get in a breath of air.

Elvis wasn’t complaining. Far from it.

He had you right where he wanted to have you for the longest time now. The whole annoying brother act was just because he’d wanted to fuck the hell out of you from the second he laid eyes on you. The fact that you were his family now sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him.

Even though you were surprisingly enjoying yourself sucking him off, practicing your skills, Elvis had you pinned down on the bed before he’d cum down your throat. Something he did not want, because he was planning on filling you up in other ways.

Him sliding his cock through your folds, spreading your slick around and rubbing his tip against your clit had you moaning and whimpering – but as soon as you felt him lingering at your entrance, the nerves were flooding back.

Placing a hand on his chest, you tried to close your legs but it was impossible because he was right there in between them, preventing you from doing so. You widened your eyes as you shook your head, writhing underneath him a little, your untouched hole clenching nearly shut as he tries to push himself in.

“N-No, no, Elvis. ’S Not gonna fit..”

“It will.”

“It’s t-too b-big..”

“Jesus,” he huffs out, grabbing your wrist and peeling your hand off of his chest. He put both your hands above your head and trapped your wrists together with his hand, his other hand moving in between your bodies to guide himself back to your entrance. “I will make it fit. Now shut the fuck up and let me in.”

You try to free your hands out of his grip, but it’s useless. He’s too strong.

Tears form in your eyes all over again as you whimper, breathing erratically as he pushes the tip inside of you. Even that was already stretching you further open, and you're clenching so hard that you were pushing him out again.

Elvis groaned in annoyance, moody eyes shooting you a a warning glare. “Goddamnit, Y/N. Relax.”

“I can’t! I c-can’t!”

“Fine,” he growls as he places his hand on your hip, forcing you to keep still as he roughly pushes fully into you. “Then don’t.”

A sharp pain shot through your body, making you cry out in panic. Despite the fact that you were absolutely soaking, the stretch was unbearable.

“I’ve never.. I’m not.. Never have-“

“Never been fucked before? I know.” He growls deeply as he bottoms out, holding still. At least he was granting you that. “But you’ll like it, baby, believe me.”

You were naive. Stupid, even. Because even though you felt like he was painfully splitting you open right now, you truly did believe him.

It was going to feel better. It had to.

Still holding onto your hands because he didn’t quite trust you enough to know you wouldn’t push him off, he pulled back a little only to slam into you again. He growls a little louder as he feels more wetness engulfing him, slipping out of you and onto him.

As he looks down, he notices a little bit of blood on his cock when he pulls back again. He smirks as he sees you looking down too, his eyes meeting yours. “I popped y’er little cherry,” he hums as he leans his face closer to yours, lips ghosting along yours. “You know what that means, sis?”

Cheeks flushed in embarrassement for bleeding on him, you whimper softly as you stare into his eyes with your own teary ones, finding yourself chasing his lips, wanting to kiss him but he wasn’t giving it to you yet.

“You’re mine now.”

The way he whispers those words against your lips has you letting out a soft sob, crying as he kisses you feverishly.

He starts thrusting into you, hard enough for his balls to slap against your skin every time his hips snap forward, but not hard enough for him to cum yet. Because you were tight, so incredibly snug, he had to force himself to not fill you up prematurely.

He wanted to enjoy it for a little longer.

Letting go of your wrists and hip, he places his hand flat on either side of your head and breaks the kiss, looking down at you as he rams you into the mattress. The headboard was slamming against the wall, probably alerting your parents in the next room to what was happening but he was too far gone.

And so were you.

All you could think about was Elvis and how he was railing you into tomorrow, drunk on his cock.

The sting was still there, but the intensity was wearing off, making way for pleasure.

Pure, raw pleasure.

Heat overwhelmed you, an unfamiliar feeling coiling in the pit of your tummy and you knew enough of your friends’ stories that your orgasm was nearing.

“Elvis!” You moaned out loudly, your nails running down his back, clinging onto him. “I’m g-gonna cum!”

It felt strange saying those words, but your brain was too cloudy to think or worry about it.

“Fuck. Me too, baby,” he growls as he presses his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. “Gonna fuckin’ fill you up until you feel it all the way in your tummy.”

You had no idea if that was even possible, but it sounded hot.

You wanted it.

Wanted all of him.

With your spread legs in the air, your toes curl as your nails dig into his shoulder blades. Your back arched and Elvis’ hips stuttered, both of you exploding at the same time.

You milked him for all he’s worth and he paints your insides white, thick strings of warm cum filling you up to the brim. A weird sensation spread throughout your stomach and you wondered if it was because of what he said.

He collapses on top of you with his face hiding in your neck, panting heavily against your skin. You could feel his cum spilling out of you as he pulls his softening cock out and you whimper, shivering underneath him because of your first orgasm you’ve just experienced.

“N-Need to p-pee.” You whisper in a shaky voice, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

He rolls off of you but instead of letting you get up, he wraps his arm around your waist and spoons you. His hand moves in between your legs, cupping your sensitive pussy. “No,” he simply tells you, grinning as he softly bites your shoulder, moving his other arm underneath your head and wrapping it around your throat without too much pressure, pressing your back against his chest firmly. “Keep it inside ‘f ya for a little longer. Don’t be ungrateful, baby.”

You squirm against him a little and gasp as he shoves two fingers inside of your cunt, pushing his cum deeper inside of you and keeping it there.

He was right. Spilling the load he’d worked so hard to release right away would be ungrateful… and that’s something that you weren’t.

You were a good girl, a good daughter.

And a perfect sister to fuck.

⊱ taglist: @notstefaniepresley @powerofelvis @peaceloveelvis @ccab @jkdaddy01 @atrophyingaphrodite @ladelinee

#elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #stepbrother!elvis #elvis #elvis presley #tamwrites #tamsdove #elvis x fanfic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n

[tulipswoo]

please don't go - jeon wonwoo

warnings: none

pairings: jeon wonwoo x afab reader

genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst

a/n: lower case intended! also writing my first fic at 1am so.....

''how was your date?'' wonwoo asked the second the door opened to your shared apartment. not that wonwoo would ever admit it but it is currently 1:03am and he may or may not have stayed up to wait for you to return despite having had a very exhausting day himself.

''why are you still up? isn't it past your bed time?'' you asked as you removed your heels. 'i couldn't sleep.' he simply said. ''so? how was it?''

'it was alright i guess. it wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst either.'' sighing, you walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge before settling near the island of the kitchen.

truthfully, you didn't want to discuss the details with wonwoo. because aside from the fact that you're in love with your best friend, you've also been going on a few dates with mingyu now to try and get over your best friend. seungkwan had suggested setting you up with mingyu when you confided in him as he knew mingyu was interested in you. the only problem, however, is the fact that wonwoo seemed to not like mingyu. ever since the first time you went out with mingyu, wonwoo had no problem in letting you know how bad of an idea it was. saying mingyu was not your type, or that you both don't look good together; all these petty reasons that make no sense at all and you were slowly getting annoyed.

''are you hungry?'' you asked as you tried to change the topic.

''are you going to continue going out with him?''

''should we order some pizza?''

''mingyu isn't even your type, i don't know why him out of all people.''

''or should we order some pasta if you're not feeling pizza?''

''y/n.''

''or maybe i should cook us something? fried rice?''

''y/n can we please just talk about this?''

''do we still have any rice left?''

‘‘Y/N PLEASE!''

''what wonwoo?'' you said back harshly. it isn't until now that you realise how frustrated you are. trying to move on from him is so hard when he is around you all the time. it makes it even harder when he keeps being harsh about your dates and points out why each one of them isn't suitable for you, and the worst part of it all is that you know he's right, all of it. but what were you to do? there is no one who could ever come close to wonwoo.

''stop going out with mingyu! you don't even like him!''

''and how do you know that? maybe i do like him! maybe i like him a lot!'' you wanted to scream and shout to get all your feelings out..but this isn't your first fight with wonwoo about mingyu or any other guy you've been on dates with and you were just so worn out by now.

''that's bullshit and you know it. mingyu literally checks none of the boxes for your list of traits for your type.''

''i made that list 3 years ago! things change wonwoo! not all of us stay the same!''

its wonwoo who is silent now. his knuckles have turned paler than ever from gripping onto the edges of the island so hard.

''what the hell does that mean?''

''nothing.'' you said as you picked up your purse and head to your bedroom. you don't get to go far though, because wonwoo is holding onto your wrist now. so tightly yet so gentle at the same time. you wonder how that is possible. you hope he doesn't feel the pulse on your wrist picking up speed, and he hopes you don't feel his hand slightly trembling.

''please sweetheart...just..not him''

you sigh for the nth time tonight, ''wonwoo i can't just not date every guy you think isn't good enough or suitable enough for me. how am i ever going to find someone?''

''do you have to? do you have to find someone? i know you don't like mingyu enough so why?''

''really wonwoo? do i not like mingyu enough or do you just not like mingyu like how you don't like every single guy i've ever been on a date with? why? are you scared i'll call you less? replace you? have a new best friend? spend less time with you?'' your frustration was slowly growing again.

wonwoo feels his heart clench. can he tell you? will it ruin your 8 year long friendship? things are bound to become awkward, there's no way he can tell you how he truly feels.

but wonwoo decides, wonwoo finally decides that hiding his feelings from you for 5 long years is excruciating enough.

''none of that.'' he says so softly you can barely hear him.

''what?''

''i said, its none of that.''

''then what is it?''

wonwoo decides that if he is to get his heart broken by you, it might as well be tonight. he might as well just....try

wonwoo looks at you one last time for what feels like a good 10 minutes, even though it was only 10 seconds. he's contemplating, he's thinking and then.. he says fuck it.

his body moves faster than his brain. before he could properly process it, he finds his lips on yours. he feels you freeze for a split second, and then he feels you relaxing under his touch. he feels you kissing him back. he feels his heart beating so fast but also, he feels his heart slowly but surely unclench.

he pulls away softly and slowly. ''don't go out with mingyu anymore. don't go out with anyone else anymore. don't have dinner dates with anyone else. don't laugh at someone else's jokes that aren't funny just for the sake of being polite. i won't put you through all of that. i'll hold your hand. i'll have a pair of your converse in the car so your feet won't hurt from heels all day. i'll tell you jokes that are actually funny the way i know you like it. just let me love you and i'll show you all the ways i know how when it comes to you.''

you don't realise your tears slowly staining your cheeks, not until wonwoo's free hand comes up to wipe your tears with his thumb. its now your turn for your hand to reach out for wonwoo's wrist to pull him in for a kiss.

''please...please don't go''

''do you mean it?'' you asked softly

''i do. i love you, and i'll show you.''

and he does. now, he always holds your hand when you're walking on the street, crossing the road, lazing on the sofa, on the bed, on the table when you're waiting for your food to be served. he holds your hair back when you have to puke after having too much to drink. he removes your make up for you when you are too tired or too drunk. he never makes you wait, he always gives you the first bite of his food. he kisses you on the cheek, on the forehead, on your temples, the back of your hand, your fingers and on your lips, all while always telling you how much he loves you. he loves you in all the small and simple ways. but jeon wonwoo knows you love him too.

a/n: im not exactly satisfied with this because while proof reading it, it feels a bit rushed but i did start this at 1am and it is 4am now so this should do. please let me know what you think or if you have any requests! hopefully my first fic went okay hahaha

#seventeen #svt #svt fluff #svt angst #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #wonwoo #wonwoo svt #svt wonwoo #wonwoo fanfiction #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo angst #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo seventeen #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst

[slytherheign]

AFTERGLOW | charles leclerc

PART 3/3 OF LOVER: THE TRILOGY.

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

SUMMARY: the dark nights may have already passed but the biggest storm is just beginning. the daylight is becoming harder to be seen, and now you see yourself questioning if love will be enough to conquer all—even the afterglow.

WARNINGS: angst, hate, doubts, cursing/swearing, and arguments. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S FINALLY HERE! this is way overdue and i apologize. i owe you guys a lot of fics for being absent for way too long. this is dedicated to ALL of you! thank you guys so much for the never-ending support.

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO TO TRILOGY MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

At first, it was just a few comments here and there, snide remarks about your differences—how Charles was way too good for you or how you didn't fit into society's expectations. You brushed them off, laughed them away, thinking that their words couldn't penetrate the walls you had built around the two of you.

But little did you know how wrong you were.

The online hate began to escalate, turning into a relentless storm that seemed to follow you wherever you went. Your private moments were invaded, dissected, and judged by people who had no right to pass such harsh judgment. Their words became a constant presence, infecting your mind, and sowing seeds of doubt and insecurity.

“So, she basically has nothing… and then she decides to date Charles, who obviously, has everything. I don’t know about y’all… but I feel like she’s just dating him because she knows he can provide for her.”

“She’s giving me golddigger vibes.”

“No cause fr what the hell did she do to get Charles to fall for her.”

Your eyes were glued to your phone while Charles was making dinner. No matter what application you seemed to open, you were all over social media. After Charles decided to launch your relationship to the public, both your names became trending ever since. 

“Chérie, do you know where the pasta is?” he asked. He was opening the cabinets in the kitchen quite loudly but all the noises were drowned out as you scrolled further down the comments.

“Imagine this… she leaves everything, including her family and friends, just to focus on herself. What makes us think she wouldn’t do the same to Charles?”

“Selfish. That’s one word I would describe her.”

Your hands began to shake and you felt the tears pooling in your eyes. 

“Nevermind. Chérie, I found it!” he cheered.

This time, you heard his voice. Yet again noticing how accomplishing little things seemed to cheer him up. God, he was such a light. His soul was so pure and innocent.

“Charles needs to leave her while it’s still early omg.”

“Give her a few months and we’ll see just how much she’d damage him.”

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed that everyone you come across with ends up in ruins. It was always dreams before relationships for you, life before love, and self before others.

Maybe they were right. You were selfish.

“Either she leaves him or Charles leaves her first. I hope it’s the second one.”

“He needs to escape. She’ll hurt him more the longer he’s with her.”

The more you read their words, the more they were becoming true in your head.

“Charles does not deserve someone like her. I said what I said.”

You glanced at him, his back facing you as he cooked dinner. He was humming a song, a soft song he would always play on his piano for you. It was impossible to stop the tears that started falling. 

You were scared. 

Scared that what they said was true and that the longer you were in his life, the more you’d damage him.

You were scared for him.

And scared of you.

“Pls even her best friend, Charlotte, is better than her.”

“If I was him, I’d leave right this instant.”

You didn’t want to damage him. You didn’t want to taint someone so pure.

What you wanted to do was protect him. Protect him from harm, protect him from any damages, protect him from getting hurt…

“We need to protect Charles from her.”

But what if they were right? 

They were his fans for a reason. They care for him.

Surely, they know what’s best for him…

“When is girlie going to realize that she’s the problem.”

They were right.

You were the problem. 

You were the harm, the person who does the damage, the person who would hurt him.

“I hope they break up. It’s what’s best for Charles.”

Charles took the phone in your hand and threw it on the wall. You stared at him in shock. How long was he behind you? You didn’t even hear his footsteps. Did he see the comments you were reading?

“What the hell are you reading, mon amour?” he asked angrily. But when he noticed you crying, he softened his voice. “I was calling your name, asking you to taste the sauce. You weren’t answering so I decided to come here.”

You stared at your broken phone on the floor. He followed your line of sight.

“I can replace it. Don’t worry about it.”

He put his hand on your cheek, moving your face so you were facing him. 

“I-I don’t know what the other comments said, I only read about the last few ones,” he wiped your tears. “And I can assure you, I won’t break up with you. I’ll never do that.”

“Maybe you should,” you replied.

“Mon amour, I understand what you’re feeling right now. You’re not used to online hate and strangers on the internet criticizing you, but I am. And the best thing we can do is ignore them. They have no idea what happens behind closed doors and cameras. They know nothing.”

“Charles, they’re your fans. They were there for you even before I came into your life.”

“That doesn’t mean they know everything about me.”

“I don’t know, Charles…” you turned your face away from him, his hands dropping from your face in the process. You slightly distanced yourself from him.

Their words were poison and they went straight to your head. It was painful to admit, but you started questioning the strength of your relationship. How could you build a future amidst the chaos and resentment? You tried not to pay them attention, to convince yourself that love could conquer all, but the weight of the hate grew heavier with each passing day.

“Do I really mean that little to you?” Charles asked suddenly.

You blew things out of proportion, and now he was blue.

You looked back at him but you kept your distance.

“Why would you think that?” 

“Because you’re just throwing everything away like the last two years didn’t exist.” 

“Charles, no–that’s not—” you walked closer to him but he was the one who distanced himself this time.

“I’ve fought for this relationship, for you—time and time again. And you can’t do the same?”

You were speechless.

You put him in jail for something he didn't do.

“I told you countless times, I can protect you—I will protect you. Don’t you trust me enough?” he continued.

You pinned his hands behind his back.

“Charles, it’s not about you protecting me… because I know you will. It’s about—”

“It’s about what?” he stared at you, his eyes glistening with tears he was trying hard to keep from falling.

Thought you had reason to attack, but no.

You looked at him with tears, lips quivering as you prepared to say the words.

“It’s about what, Y/N?” Charles held your face with his hands, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “It’s about what?” his voice was shaking. “Tell me, chérie… please?”

Fighting with a true love was like boxing with no gloves. 

“It’s about me protecting you, Charles,” you whimpered. “Maybe the things that they’re saying are true—maybe you need to run away from me before I leave you. Maybe I-I’m not truly what you need…”

You covered his hands with yours. “Charles… maybe we should just—”

Chemistry 'til it blew up, 'til there's no you and him anymore.

“No,” he answered.

“Charles, I think—”

“I know what you’re thinking. And no—that’s my final answer.”

He let go of you and started to pace the room.

“Charles—”

“We’ve made it this far… and you’re just going to give up now?” he stared at you, looking at your eyes for some sort of indication that everything was just a joke. All of his defenses broke and he didn’t even care if his tears started to fall.

Why'd you have to break what you loved so much?

“I hurt everyone I get close to. Charles, I’m just trying to protect you. Please–” 

“I don’t need your fucking protection! You! I need you!” he screamed in frustration.

And then he did something you didn’t expect.

He kneeled in front of you, holding your hands as he begged you not to leave him.

“Mon amour, just fight for us. Please, that’s only what I ask.”

“Oh, Charles… I really don’t deserve you.”

“Please, just stay with me… I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t leave me, mon amour, just s-stay, please.”

“Charles, p-please don’t cry, I-I can’t see you cry—stand up, please,” you cried.

It was on his face, the clear image of pain, and you were the one to blame. At that moment, you thought of every possible way this argument would end. You were already hurting him right now, what more would you do if you stayed? How much pain would you cause?

Charles stood up and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?” he paused, turning your face so that your eyes were looking at his. “When they say all that shit about you? When they drag your name through the mud? When they feast over you on the internet? Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?” 

You didn’t know what to say.

“It hurts me too,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “But I can’t control what they say. If I could, I would’ve done it way too long ago.”

“Charles…”

“This is the way the world works, Y/N. You have to realize that people say what they want to say and people do what they want to do. Everything is done with a choice.” 

He finally opened his eyes, pulling away from you and wiping his tears. He stayed standing in front of you, but he now maintained a distance.

“Y/N…”

You couldn’t deny the pang of pain you felt when he called you by your name instead of the pet names he loved to call you.

“I can’t fight for a relationship when the other one’s already giving up,” he said. 

“You deserve someone way better than me,” you cried. “Look what I’m doing, I’m already hurting you right now. I would just hurt you even more in the future.”

Instead of him getting sad, his face showed a different emotion. It was blank, it was as if the emotions that blew up moments ago exhausted him.

“If you decide to stay or not, just know that I love you.”

ONE WEEK LATER.

You fucking hated yourself.

What the fuck did you just do?

Why didn’t you stay that night and why did you have to break what you loved so much?

You tried living without his presence for a week and it was horrible. You convinced yourself that you would eventually get used to a life without the warmth of his body next to yours or the sweet messages he would send every day. It was getting hard to reassure yourself that this was the way it was meant to be—you, away from him—when the only name your heart was calling was his.

You were miserable. You were breathing but you felt like you were already dead because your life had been taken away from you.

And you only have yourself to blame.

The truth was, you were weak. Each time you experience a block in the road, you immediately turn away. And you were ashamed of yourself for that. You were scared of losing Charles so you pushed him away. You left him before he could realize he needed to leave you.

You were regretting every single thing you did.

You regretted how you lived like an island, how you punished him with silence, how you went off like sirens, but above all, you regretted how you walked away.

Now you found yourself in front of his home, shaking as you slowly raised your hand to knock on the door. You hoped he was inside.

You knocked on the door hoping it was not too late. The door opened slowly after a few minutes, and after a week of no interaction, you finally saw him.

He was in the same state as you, maybe even worse. It was evident on his face that he spent most of his time crying. His eyes which were full of life before became lifeless, and he gave you the most lethargic look.

You wanted to hurt yourself because you knew you did that to him.

“Can I come inside, please?” you pleaded.

He stepped aside from the door and walked straight to the couch, not even sparing you a single glance. You followed him, sitting beside him as silence consumed the two of you.

“Hey,” you couldn’t help but cry as you looked at him. He had his head in his hands and you knew he was stopping himself from crying. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You don’t have to talk, I just want you to listen.”

When he didn’t move, you took that as a sign to continue. Honestly, you didn’t know where to start but you just let your heart guide you on what words you needed him to hear. 

“It’s all me, Charles. I’m sorry,” you stated. “It’s all me, in my head—I burned us down. I know I said a lot of stupid things but it’s not what I meant. And I—” you wiped a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.” 

He stayed still, hands still covering his face. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew you were in no position to tell him what to do when you were the reason he was this way. And so, you just continued to speak, hoping that deep inside his heart, he would find it in himself to forgive you.

“At that moment, I felt like the walls were closing in on me and the world was spinning out of control. I let my emotions take over and lashed out in ways that were unreasonable and unfair. I see now that I projected my own fears onto you, and I regret it. I regret everything I said that day. I let my assumptions take control and I assumed the worst without giving you the benefit of the doubt. I realize now that I sabotaged something beautiful, something we had worked so hard to build together.

“I didn’t want to do this to you. I want you to know that I take full responsibility for my overreaction. I'm aware of the impact it had on you, and I understand that you are hurt and feeling distant. But please, Charles, give me a chance to make it right. Give me a chance to show you that I’m capable of growth and that I’m learning from my mistakes.

“I can't promise that I won't make mistakes in the future, but I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to communicate openly and honestly and I will seek to understand your perspective before jumping to conclusions.

“I don’t want to lose you, Charles. I know trust takes time to rebuild, and I’m willing to put in the effort. You’re right, you’re always right— our love is worth fighting for. Please forgive me for being too weak, for walking away instead of staying. I misplaced my hurt and anger and I hurt you. I love you, Charles, please, at least look at me?” you pleaded.

And he did. He finally looked up. His eyes were red from crying as he held your hands in his. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear from you. For you to say that you’re willing to fight for us. I needed you to realize that for us to work, we have to meet each other halfway.”

“I know, and again, I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“Thank you,” he cried, cupping your cheek with his hand.

“For what?” you asked him.

“For coming back.”

You smiled at each other, leaning in for a kiss when you both got distracted by the light that suddenly shined through his large window.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the sky, you both stood side by side at the window. The afterglow of the sun painted the room in warm tones, filling the space with a sense of something you haven’t felt for a long time… peace.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his. You watched in awe as the last rays of sunlight danced across the clouds, creating breathtaking shades of colors. For a moment, you swore the sky was pink.

"It's like nature's painting," you whispered, voice filled with wonder.

Charles nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the ever-changing canvas before the two of you. "Yeah, it's beautiful," he replied softly.

The two of you simply stood there, lost in the beauty of the moment. Time seemed to stand still as you basked in the quiet serenity of the evening. As the sky darkened and the stars began to twinkle overhead, you both reluctantly tore your gazes away from the window. But the memory of the afterglow of the sun lingered in your hearts, a reminder of the beauty that surrounded you each day.

For the longest time, you let hate consume you. It was like this dark cloud hanging over your head. You were so focused on what they all had to say that you forgot to appreciate what was right in front of you.

But then, something shifted. Maybe it was a moment of clarity or a whisper of wisdom from somewhere deep within. Or maybe it was him, Charles, that made you realize that conforming to hate wasn't getting you anywhere. It wasn’t making you happy, it wasn't bringing you peace. All it was doing was tearing you apart, piece by piece.

And in that moment of realization, everything changed. You finally made a choice—a choice to let go of the hate and embrace love instead. You knew it wasn't going to be easy, and it wasn’t something that happens overnight, but you were determined to commit.

You were beginning to see the beauty in the world around you. The fact that it could be the laughter of real friends, the warmth of the sun on your skin, or the gentle touch of a loved one's hand—you realized that true love was everywhere, if only you were willing to open your eyes and see it.

So now, you were choosing love by choosing him. You chose to appreciate the little moments of joy, the simple pleasures of life. You chose to let go of anger and resentment, and instead, filled your heart with kindness and compassion.

You would soon forgive your family.

Because in the end, love is all that really mattered. It was what connected us, what bound us together as human beings. And when we embrace it, when we let it guide us, we would find out that life is so much sweeter, and so much more meaningful.

So here's to love—in all its forms, in all its beauty.

And here’s to Charles, your lover.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx @c-losur3

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld96 @princessria127

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fan fiction #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #lover: the trilogy #lover #taylor swift #leclerc #ferrari #afterglow

[muwapsturniolo]

✯𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰✯

IN WHICH... Y/n is cheating on her boyfriend with Matt

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!!! cheating, smut, unprotected sex, lying.

this was for a request i had gotten. I hope anon likes it.

Y/n had a secret.

Every Sunday Y/n would tell her boyfriend Scott she was going to church, worshiping the god that gave her life and thanking him. She would dress up in the most prettiest dress, pairing it with her knee socks and Mary Janes.

She would leave the house and walk down to the town church, counting down the steps before she arrived. She would greet the familiar faces of the churchgoers and wait patiently for her friend to come.

Once her friend arrived, she would leave the church and they would drive to a parking lot. It wasn't like she really lied to her boyfriend, technically she still went to church, she just didn't stay. She technically did get down on her knees, pray, and worship...it just wasn't to the same god as everyone else.

She was cheating.

The so-called god she was worshipping, was a guy named Matt. She doesn't even remember how they met, but what she did remember was how good he made her feel. She loved the way he touched her, his fingers feeling like a ball of a thousand suns as they slipped inside of her. The way he ate her out as if it was his favorite meal...She craved it.

But Scotty doesn't know.

He doesn't know that the two adulterers decided to see each other on other days as well as Sundays. Y/n would make up excuses on top of excuses just to see Matt.

Her favorite excuse was telling Scott she was going shopping. Scott thought nothing of it considering the girl was a shopping addict, always buying clothes, purses, makeup, and even hair clips.

Once again it technically wasn't a lie, she did get to go shopping. Matt paid for everything and she repaid him by letting him fuck her in the dressing room. They almost got caught, an associate knocked on the door and asked if everything was ok. She was too fucked out to answer and Matt didn't want to stop, so he spurted out a quick "yeah".

It was a rush of adrenaline for them. the idea of being caught by Scott and or others only making them do it more.

Matt couldn't believe how stupid Scott was. there's no way he believes Y/n is so busy shopping or doing whatever excuse she tells him. He was too trusting of the promiscuous girl.

The same girl that he's always thrusting into at any chance he gets.

There was a certain instance when the two were having sex in his car, and Scott called. Y/n had declined the call about three times before Matt demanded her to answer. She tried to tell him no, but with a quick thrust of his hips, she listened.

Matt didn't slow down, in fact, he sped up. The whole car was shaking and Y/n was doing her best not to moan out.

"Did you want to come over tonight? I was thinking we could fool around."

Matt grips her hips tighter and slams his hips even harder, a loud screech slipping out of Y/n's mouth.

"Y/n? You ok?"

Somehow Y/n managed to say yes, hoping Scott would just get off the phone, but it seemed like the world hated her. Scott stayed on the phone for another twenty minutes talking and rambling about stuff Y/n could care less about. Matt made it impossibly hard for her to stay sane during the conversation.

Maybe this was her karma for cheating.

The two managed to get away with the phone call, Y/n quickly hanging up without saying goodbye to Scott.

"You gonna fuck him? Hm? You gonna be a whore and fuck your boyfriend after fucking me?"

She shook her head no, a wide grin coating Matt's face.

"Atta girl, he can't fuck you like I can."

It seemed like after that the adulterers were on a high, they had sex in multiple parking lots in broad daylight, Y/n being on top with her top down, her breast bouncing as Matt''s bucks his hips.

They even did it on Scott's front lawn in the snow. It was uncomfortable, but the adrenaline rush they got was almost better than their orgasms.

There was an instance on Scott's birthday where the two ended up having sex in Scott's own bed. y/n knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help herself. She loved the excitement Matt brought into her life...She loved him.

And the feelings were mutual.

When Matt walked down the stairs a few moments after Y/n, he had watched his girl waltz right into Scott's arms, the male kissing her on the cheek. He could see the look of annoyance on Y/n's face and that was enough for him to decide.

Scotty had to go, and Matt was going to tell him himself.

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n @freshsturns @adoreindie @sturnstvr

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #smut #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris girl #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl

[reidsdimples]

Strictly Professional | Part 3

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

18+❤️‍🔥 MDNI ‼️

Things get complicated when you and Spencer are caught red handed 🤭

Part 1 | Part 2

You had gone to sleep sad, missing Spence but knowing the two of you had to keep your distance. He hadn’t spoken to you outside of work in over a week and that night it really got to you. He made it seem so easy to stay away from you. You hated it.

On top of that, Penelope was badgering you about what she thought she figured out (which she did but you couldn’t admit).

You wake slowly, though not naturally from an erotically charged dream about Spence’s mouth. Ugh.

Someone is in your bed despite the fact that you live alone. Your heart hammers with excitement.

“Waking up?” You hear him murmur just as register his hand placed on your bare stomach.

“Spence?” You rub your eyes. “What are you doing here?” You ask.

“Missed you,” he answers. His voice is husky, needy.

He had a key to your apartment, but he had never come in while you were sleeping.

He’s laying on his side, head propped on his arm as he looks at you.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you groan. But his five o’clock shadow and curly hair makes the word painful to say.

“You moan in your sleep,” he redirects the conversation.

The two of you had never slept together before, only hooked up and went your separate ways. This side of him was different. He didn’t seem hurried, he was lazily appreciating your beauty.

“I wonder why,” you answer and look at his hand. He’s tracing lazy circles about your waistband with those delicate fingers.

You stretch out and close your eyes, your arms folded behind your head. Still in that half asleep mode yet slowly becoming aroused by his presence. You were more sensitive when you first woke up. Your nipples already hardening and your clit swelling with need.

“I hate having to stay away from you,” he admits in a whisper. Then he’s planting kisses on your collarbone just above your bralette.

“I missed you too,” you say breathlessly as his warm lips trail to the swell of your breasts.

“Did you miss this?” He asks and nips at your soft skin. You whimper. “Or this?” He slides his hand into your underwear so his hand is cupping your pussy. You instinctively grind into his hand.

“Mhmm,” you turn your head into the pillow.

He slowly pushes his middle finger between your folds, dipping into you to find that you’re already wet.

“What were you dreaming about?” He asks, his lips against the shell of your ear.

You turn into him and capture his lips in yours, hard and wanting.

“These lips,” you answer and take his bottom one between your teeth. He pushes his middle finger fully into you causing you to gasp and release him.

“Greedy girl,” he tuts.

He positions himself so that he’s leaning over you but still beside you. He locks his gaze on yours and starts to pump his finger in and out. You write beneath him, needing more. He slips in a second finger, causing you to moan louder.

He watches you, coming undone beneath him. He likes the control he has over your body, the way it answers to him, how hard you cum for him. He could watch you like this for hours. Your eyes blown wide, cheeks red, your chest rising and falling as you pant. His cock strains against his pants just listening to you mewl and moan. He pushes in a third finger and wraps his other hand in your hair to force you to look at him.

He starts to pump you harder, curling his fingers upward until you’re nearly screaming for him. It’s too good, you can’t even see straight. You’re lost in the wave of pleasure coursing through you. You begin to shudder but he only works you harder. You watch his perfect fingers work themselves in and out of you, the tendons and veins in his hands moving beneath the skin.

“Would this piss off Hotch? Or Strauss?” He asks, playing into just how much you love sneaking around. You nod and bite your lip as you reach your climax.

“So many orgasms because of me,” he hums as you finish with a soft moan and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck Spence,” you pant.

He kisses you hard before gripping your hips and forcing you to turn over. You laugh and move with him as he hauls your ass up into the air.

He doesn’t waste time before the sound of his belt opening echoes through the room and he’s sliding his cock against your entrance. He spread your moisture onto the top of his cock but you’re impatient, you press yourself back onto him.

“Shit,” he inhales in shock. He exhales with a shudder as you take all of his cock at once.

He digs his nails into your ass, grunting as he adjust to the feeling of you around him. Then he’s pounding into you, fast and hard until you’re grilling the sheets and screaming into the mattress.

You’re lost, ascending as he relentlessly fucks you into oblivion.

“Spencer!” you scream and reach back, placing your hand on his lower abdomen to get him to slow down. It’s slick with moisture, you don’t know if it’s yours or sweat but it’s so hot.

It so good, too good. Almost too much.

“You can take it baby,” he reassures you but does ease up.

Then you’re shaking and coming apart around him. He throws his head back and still his hips in you for a moment while you twitch and clench his cock deeper into you.

He starts up again, this time slower and with a rolling motion of his hips.

“So good,” you whine and start to meet his rhythm.

Suddenly your phone rings, sobering you up from your fucked out state. Spencer stills for a moment as you reach for your phone.

“Penelope,” you answer and try to sound as normal as you can. Spencer reels his hips back and sinks into you slowly, soundlessly.

You bite your lip to keep quiet.

“You said to call you when I’m close, I’m close!” She chirps.

SHIT!

Spencer grips your hips as he moves in and out of you in a deliciously sinful manner.

“Oh right! The flea market! I- I’m overslept,” you lie. You really forgot about it, your brain melting in Spence’s presence. You feel your stomach clenching up, close to orgasm. “I’ll be ready in 10!”

“But-“ you hang up the phone and toss it on the floor.

“God Spence, hurry she’s almost here,” you bite out and press yourself back against him.

“What?” He panics but doesn’t stop.

“Cum with me,” you pant, urging him to speed up.

He does, grinding into you, forcing your face down into the mattress again. You let out a wail as you orgasm again, drawing out his own.

“Fuck,” he grunts and pumps you full of him.

He doesn’t linger, he withdrawals immediately, allowing you to jolt forward onto your stomach. Your body still shaking from the orgasm, you lay there for a moment.

You hear Spencer somewhere behind you redoing his belt. You bound off of the bed and kiss him quickly.

“That was…” he starts.

“No time, you gotta go!” You exclaim as you pull on your pants.

He looks at you with amusement and you realize one of your tits has fallen out of your bralette. He chuckles when you fix it.

“I know I’m so sexy,” you joke sarcastically.

“You are, especially like this. Flustered, satisfied,” he says proudly.

“Shut up!” You sway him and start cruising him to the front door.

To your horror, Penelope pulls up just as you go to open it.

“Fuck, shit shit shit,” you pace for a moment. “Go, go get in the closet!” You shove him.

“My car is right there,” he reasons.

He’s right, Penelope parked right next to his car in the driveway.

A rapid set of knocks echo through the living room causing you to jump.

“Hide!” You tell him again, panicked.

He stumbles into your room and you don’t open the door until you hear your closet slide shut.

“Hey!” You beam to your most colorful coworker. You pull on a T-shirt as she comes in behind you.

She’s glancing around your house, suspiciously.

“Reid!” She coos loudly. Her face is painted with the biggest ‘gotcha’ smile. “I knew it!” She smack your arm with her hand bag.

All hope of her not knowing what car he drives flies right out of the window.

“No it’s not…”

“Not like that?” She finishes your sentence. “That’s exactly what he said,” she crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows at you in amusement.

“Penelope please,” you plead but you don’t know what for.

“I’m not going to tell anybody. I’m more hurt that you couldn’t share with me that you nabbed the resident pretty boy,” she smiles sweetly.

You nearly sink to your knees in relief. Spencer appears in the doorway of your room, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

He offers Penelope a tight lipped little wave, his cheeks flaming red.

“Ya know the odds of one of us being at one of the others houses is about 73%” Spence says. “You’re also here for example,” he gestures to Penelope with a hint of sass.

“Oh no, don’t sass me gorgeous. It is so obvious what just happened here,” she shakes her pointer finger at him. “Seriously Reid, you have scratches on your neck,” she tuts.

You bury your face in your hands, wishing you could scream from embarrassment.

“I’m just saying we’re partners and I live closest to her, we could just be debriefing after the Seattle case. So there really isn’t a reason to tell Hotch about this,” he insists.

“Oh you were debriefed alright,” she looks him up and down in amusement. He shifts his weight to his other leg and clears his throat.

You walk over to the wall to lean your forehead against it. If you could crawl inside a hole and die, you would.

“I’m not going to say anything!” She holds up her hands, feigning innocence.

Spence sighs and his shoulders slump, he’s no longer on the defense. He gives her a thankful look but doesn’t respond further.

“This is amazing I’m so happy for you guys!” She brings the two of you in for a hug in which she practically jumps up and down. “When did you guys start dating?” She holds you at arms length.

“I-“

“We’re not dating,” Spencer cuts in. “It’s more of a friend’s with benefits type of situation.”

Something in his stoic tone and need to ensure she knows that you two aren’t dating makes your stomach sink. The two of you had never defined this… but he just did all on his own. You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Perhaps you were beginning to care for him far deeper than you should have. That’s why it was so much easier for him to keep his distance. You swallow hard and give Penelope a small confirmation smile.

“I’m going to go,” Spencer sighs. He leaves without kissing you or even acknowledging you further.

“Oh we’re going to talk about that,” Penelope gestures to the odd interaction.

#mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg pics #spencer reid one shots #dr reid #spicy spencer reid #spencer reid ai #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bau!reader

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 9

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 9: dominating discoveries

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor's magic was all over me, as was he, the second I stepped foot in the house. He was searching for more injuries and sorting through my mind for anything ill will.

"Stop fussing," I said, attempting to push his chest away. His arm was still firmly wrapped around my back, cane in hand, as his other hand trailed over my head and shoulders for the umpteenth time, light as a feather. "My clothes are in worse condition."

"Angelic weapons are dangerous," he stated, "you may not have healed all the way."

"I'm fine. I'm half Angel, remember? But they do hurt like a bitch."

"Your language has gotten worse, my dear."

"I've heard you curse before. Here or there isn't going to hurt anyone." I scratched the healed spot on my nose. His palm came up to cup my cheek, claws cold to the touch despite the extreme warmth of his hand. His red eyes examined me in a long moment of silence.

"Alastor?" I brought him out of his trance.

"Hm?" he hummed, blinking twice.

"Thank you. For not interfering."

He blinked again. "You asked and I obliged. It would not do to make you loathe me again."

"You drive me nuts sometimes," I interlaced my fingers with his on my cheek, "but I don't think I could loathe you."

His smile was light and genuine. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. The brush of his hair on my cheeks, and the feeling of his lips on my skin, brought back our earlier conversation.

"I do believe—" I placed a kiss on his palm. "—I promised some quality time when I returned." His smile seemed slightly strained from the motion.

"I believe you did."

My heart hammered in my chest as I reached up to pull him down to my eye level by his bow tie. "Our bedroom may be a more...preferable space."

He snapped back up and pulled me close. Shadows warped my field of vision, thinning out to reveal the bright red master bedroom. I peeled away from him and took off my partially stained jacket.

"You did amazing tonight," he said from the place we had manifested in. He still had his cane in hand as he watched me drape the coat over a chair and return to him in the center of the room.

"I've done harder things." I leaned my weight into him and ran my hand over his clothed chest. I heard a sharp intake of static. I leaned my head on the front of his shoulder, letting my hand continue to wander down his arm. "How was the talk with Thatcher?"

I felt something jolt in his mind. "He...was not receptive, nor was Nym. They are both now asleep in their beds."

"So you didn't remedy what I had asked." I stepped away from him, watching him try to hide a wince at the loss of magical and physical contact. "Perhaps then we don't need to spend time together. I do need to clean my coat." I walked back to the chair to grab the material. As I pretended to examine it, he appeared behind me so that my back was against his chest.

"I attempted, as you asked." He was using his sweet, unfiltered voice. He was playing nice. I didn't want to, though. I had envisioned so many things during his absence, all thanks to the various books I had picked up.

"I told you to remedy it, not attempt to." I tilted my head at a funny angle to look up at him. His smile was strained but he was trying to keep his chipper tone.

"You know the children best," he tried. "Thatcher is terrified of the smallest of creatures. It will take some time for him to even look in my direction."

"You're telling me the Radio Demon can't handle children?"

"The Radio Demon does not like children," he returned, "but his soulmate does." He gently poked a claw under my chin. "Perhaps you will indulge me, darling? I did well not to interfere, as you requested."

"That's true." I abandoned the coat in exchange for facing him completely. "I suppose you deserve something for that."

He leaned down to allow the kiss. I put my hand behind his head to press harder into his lips. He hummed a laugh as his arm wrapped naturally around my back like he always did.

My other hand trailed down his arm to where he still held onto his cane. I tapped the cold metal twice and sent him a mental message to rid the thing. It disappeared with black and green electricity. It allowed his now free hand to mirror mine on his head. He leaned further over me, bending me backwards and pulling me into him.

As gently as before, I shifted through his brain. I wanted to satisfy my curiosity from earlier but didn't want to let him know what I was looking for; didn't want to run the risk of being pulled out of his mind. So I carefully ran my tongue on his lips and felt him dull his teeth enough for me to meet his tongue. It was enough of a distraction to let me in, his naturally dominating personality taking over of the physical actions.

I gently went back to the memory of my scolding. He was on his knees with my hand squeezing his ear. I pulled him down a second time and when he looked up; that's when I felt it. I searched in that part of his mind, shifting and moving to sit exactly as he was in that moment.

It took another moment of gentle digging to discover a shocking truth:

He had liked it.

He hadn't refused to use his magic against me because he was afraid of my anger, but because he was enjoying the power and aggression I was exhibiting...on him.

I dared another memory. He watched everything unfold at the factory through my eyes. At certain points that same feeling returned.

He was always in control, always had to be, so was it relieving to give it to someone else he trusted instead? Did he trust me like that?

I slithered out of the memory right as he pulled away from the kiss. Both of us were breathless. His antlers had grown a few inches.

"Are you alr—" he didn't get to finish his sentence as I shoved him backwards. I walked him right into the wall, grabbed his chin, and pulled him back down for another kiss. It took him a moment to register what had happened before he gave into the kiss. That same feeling from his memories was rising again.

One arm trapped my waist to his hips while the other grabbed the back of my head. His long, thick tongue was stronger than mine, pressing harshly around my mouth and daring to go too far back. Mine was close to the same length, tangling with his, and never allowing him to keep me in one place.

My free hand reached up to hook around the hem of his jacket. He flinched but didn't stop his advances in the kiss. So I continued, feeling around for how he got this thing off.

There were two buttons hidden under the fabric that were thankfully easy to undo. I sucked in more air through my nose as I slid both hands under the jacket at his shoulders. He detached his hands from me, never once breaking the wet kiss, and let me push it off his arms.

An unspoken thought passed through us: we were not ready to go all the way yet.

But that didn't mean we couldn't do other things. So, I sent an image to his mind before breaking the kiss. I gathered the ridiculously long jacket in my hands, stole a quick glance at him in his red button up, then turned away to hang the jacket on the chair with mine. As I did, my tail lightly trailed up his arm and flicked his hair. His palm brushed against the end as he moved to sit in the vacant chair.

I watched him pull the bow tie off and set it on the table. He then elegantly sat in the chair, arms on the rests, and tilted his head to the side to watch me. I put my hands behind my back and glided over to him. For once I couldn't read his expression. He was holding his flat-tooth smile, canines still large and on display, but his eyebrows were in a neutral spot.

If it wasn't for our magic, I might've thought he didn't want to continue.

But we did have soulmate magic. So I could feel his magic desperately trying to coax me into coming as close as physically possible. I stepped so our legs were somewhat intertwined and reached out, taking his chin in my palm and rubbing my thumb across his smooth skin. He was shorter by an inch or two in the chair but it still made it so he needed to look up to keep eye contact.

Was I actually holding the Radio Demon's face like this? Was he actually allowing me?

I drew my hand away, catching a small noise like a whimper from him, before slamming them on his arms and using extra magic to hold them in place against the armrest.

Alastor bristled.

His teeth sharpened.

I put my weight on his arms and brought both legs up to fold on either side of him, straddling his hips just as we had done the night before his disappearance. I threaded my hands through his hair on the side and made my way up to the base of his ears. His lips parted on a sigh, aggression disappearing as quickly as it had come on, as I gently ran my hands up and down the sensitive appendages.

With his eyes closed, he wasn't expecting my sudden kiss. This time the noise sounded like a squeak in my mouth. I laughed into the kiss, causing his ears to flatten sideways from embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, dear," I half mused half meant. I lightly ran my claw along one ear until I reached his antlers. I began scratching around them and watched him fall back into his trance.

"Allow me...to...to touch you," he tried. I could feel how much effort it took him to speak those simple words. My other hand reached behind his head and drew a sharp claw down the back of his head, down his neck, until his collar was in the way. He shivered at the sensation and groaned, eyes peeling open to look at me. "Y-you are doing things t-to me darling."

My hand came down from his antlers to press against his cheek. I brought my face closer so our noses touched. "Good."

A weird staticky noise gurgled in the back of his throat. I felt him push against my magic but I clamped down on it with my shield again. His head made a slight jerk to the side and he peered up with a glare.

"What has brought this on, my dear?" He straightened up and shifted his legs. My tail wrapped around both of his ankles, earning another staticky reaction.

"I've waited eight years to be able to kiss you." I kept my face close but never went in for that kiss. I could feel his mind trying to convince me to close the distance.

"You are doing much more than kissing," he pointed out.

I leaned back and placed my hands on his trapped arms. His eyes instantly looked me up and down. I could hear him begging for skin to skin touch. Though he would never admit it aloud. I would need to be sneaky.

"I'm experimenting." My hands glided up his arms until they reached the red collar. His eyes suddenly gripped mine and I found myself unable to look away. It was almost like a dare; a challenge.

My hands felt what they needed as I began unbuttoning his shirt. I had planned to stop but something compelled me to keep going. My hands moved on their own. There was something warm pumping through my veins.

It wasn't until I had neared his belt that I realized he had been coaxing me. His mind was filling my mind and seemed to have one hell of a grip. I couldn't shake him. Even when he dared to move my hands for my sharp claws to hook on his leather belt. A shot of nerves went through my body.

He brought my hands back up after a chuckle and finally made that desired skin to skin contact on his chest.

He let go of my mind then, licking his lips and leaning comfortably into the chair. I was about to make a remark when I realized I was touching fur. My eyes jumped down to his half exposed chest.

The fur was the same color as his skin and very short. It was soft.

I pushed the sides of shirt to the side to see how far his fur extended. It went down the center of his chest and covered about 3/4 to the sides. It turned to skin near his ribs.

"Just full of surprises," my tone went from surprise to mischief halfway through.

"You can't have all the fun, darling." His hands touched my back, earning a violent flinch from the unexpected contact.

"When did you—"

"You have not trumped me yet, love." His now free hands moved to my waist where his thumbs rubbed the bone hidden beneath my pants. "I've allowed you to have your fun. Now it is my turn."

His arms wrapped around and under me as he abruptly stood up. I clung to his shoulders and wrapped my legs around him on instinct. I kept my tail out of the way of his boots as he landed my back firmly on the mattress.

Not all the way. We thought in union.

With both agreeing on the same idea, it gave plenty of room to see just how far we could go without going all the way.

I kept my legs around his waist as his he looked down at me. He took up most of my vision with that devilish smile of his. He brought my claw to his face where he placed a gentle kiss on it. Seeing him tower over me like this brought on a funny feeling.

He let go of my hand and moved to my shirt. He asked the question through my mind—waited for an answer—before slipping his palm under the fabric to touch my skin.

It burned.

But in a good way.

I could feel how careful he was being. His palms rang over my stomach without his claws poking me, then hooked gently on the side. I started to laugh and pulled his hands off.

"My my, are you tickilish, my dear?" He pressed against my grip to touch the tip of his claw on my side again. I arched funny and brought my feet up to push him away. "I don't think so." He brushed both feet to the side with one arm and climbed all the way on the bed.

His arm hooked my back to drag me further up towards the pillows. He let me drop and ran his claw along my side again. I stifled a yell, somehow able to remember we had children in the other rooms, and pulled on his antlers to make him stop.

His claws left my skin and grabbed my wrists, yanking them off and pinning them to the bed on either side of my head.

I abruptly went still.

He let go of my wrists and leaned on the mattress instead. He planted a gentle kiss on my forehead then leaned back to look in my eyes. He brought the back of his claws against my cheek in his usual way. His smile was small and genuine.

He snapped his fingers to dress both of us in our nightly outfits. I silently slipped under the sheets and waited for him to do the same. As soon as he was laying on his back, I attached myself to his side.

I felt a smooth wave of warmth travel between our minds. He was happy, and a little bit relieved. So I rubbed my face against his shoulder, hooked my one foot on his, wrapped my tail around his ankle, and slipped my hand just barely under his shirt so my palm touched his skin. He was so warm.

I sent him a picture in my mind and let out a sigh of relief when his gentle claw went under my shirt to rest on my back. How cold his claws be cold but his fingers so warm?

He placed another kiss on my forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

I can't promise what day I'll upload, but I can promise that y'all will be rewarded for your undying patience. Next part is gonna be juicyyyy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall @martinys-world

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

[otomes-world]

"Under fantasy disguise" part Pomefiore (1)

Fantasy AU “Under fantasy disguise”: world lore (prologue) heartslabyul savanaclaw octavinelle scarabia trigger warning: some self hate, reader in really bad state (but there is nothing grafic), barrely edited text.

At some point, the clouds flying past completely erased the idea of time and space. Slowly brightening sky marked the beginning of a new day. The lump in throat, the approaching nausea and self-loathing merged into one large layer, settling like a burden in your chest. A heaviness that radiates unpleasantly throughout the whole body.

You wanted to pry open chest if only it could give at least a little peace of mind.

However, the much-desired peace would not come. The subconscious told you, or maybe you yourself understood that you couldn’t let go of the situation. Frankly, what happened - all at once - was not your fault. It wasn’t, but selfishness and the banal desire to survive stuck needles into such a subjective concept of conscience, which you didn’t even suspect. When you live in a world of technology - when you don't have to make tough decisions - the world seems simpler.

You didn’t know where the carpet was going. Perhaps it was simply obeying your unspoken impulse to get away. Anywhere. To a place where it will be at least a little easier.

However, during the time you spent in this world, you managed to come to terms with the thought: it won’t get better. The further you plunged into unfamiliar lands and got to know its inhabitants, the harder the blow to your mental health. At some point you thought that the happiest time of your forced journey was wandering in the mountains.

Taking a shuddering breath, you froze abruptly, noticing movement out of the corner of your eye. Something flew past at incredible speed. Glancing briefly at the sleeping cat, you clenched your fists, your nails - or what was left of them - digging into the skin of your palms. The pain helped calm down a little and focus on my surroundings. A moment and something flew by again, this time very close.

It didn't seem to you.

Waking Grimm up with your left hand, you tried to look down. The carpet did not slow down, and therefore it was difficult to try to see anything. The barely brightening sky did not help at all. Suddenly the fabric shook and you felt something cold millimeters from your other hand. Imagining the worst, you looked down, noticing the thin scratch on your skin and the arrow.

Everything inside you suddenly stopped.

Heart began to beat sharply, making already labored breathing difficult. The mind tried to come up with a solution, an escape, something, but apparently the third arrow was the last warning. The last one before something incomprehensible collided with the carpet, paradoxically sobering and frightening at the same time. Intuitively stretching out your hands towards the sound of meowing, you realized in horror that you were falling down. The carpet, which had saved your life several times, was flailing in the air, trying to extinguish the flames that were engulfing the fabric faster and faster.

You closed your eyes and prepared to fall. The sharp blow, it felt like it, knocked out the remaining oxygen on the branch, as did a further fall onto the wet grass. The pain darkened vision. You wanted to scream, but you didn’t have the strength to unclench teeth and utter even a sound. Bent over, you still clutched Grimm to your chest, simultaneously trying to think about something good.

Heartslabyul still caused waking nightmares, but there were incredibly beautiful roses there. Flowers. Pleasant baking aroma. The softly shining sun.

A slow, careful breath literally created a storm inside. The lungs protested, the muscles tensed to the limit. It would be so easy to close your eyes and plunge into darkness if it weren't for the adrenaline still flowing through your veins. Your attacker was still somewhere nearby.

Sitting up with an effort of will, you could hardly resist so as not to fall back. Your side was burning, and the notorious stars were flying before eyes. What kept you from giving up was the realization that the breathing of the cat, limp in your arms, was becoming weaker. The fear of being alone in this world turned out to be enough of an incentive to go against everything: fate, a tired body and, possibly, broken bones.

A rustling sound came very close, and you tensed, preparing for the worst. Having spotted a dry branch nearby, you wondered how much time and effort it would take to grab it. There was a rustling sound again, and this time the steps took him by surprise, but a child appeared from behind the bushes. Even in the semi-darkness, you noticed his light gray hair and pointed ears. Gradually, two more appeared behind him: one with burgundy strands sticking out to the sides and a gloomy expression on his face, and the second, ready to fall asleep at any moment.

The very first, apparently the main one of the trio, took a step forward, raising his hands in a calming gesture, "How are you feeling? How many fingers am I showing?"

You just shook your head, closing your eyes. The voice of reason insisted that you had to run, but fear for Grimm did not allow you to take even a step..

"Us.. can.. help.. you.. "you didn’t recognize your own voice. It sounded so quiet and muffled that you doubted whether you were heard. Your throat burned, but you opened your mouth again to repeat the request as many times as necessary.

"Dominic, it’s not a good idea to bring someone you don’t know home, is it?" The gloomy child spoke, and for a second you again started to panic. "If we bring everyone we meet and cross, we ourselves will soon become the King’s target."

King? That's all you needed. Previous territories also had heads, but facing the “royal family” sounded much more terrible and problematic

"..only a night.. I can.. stay in the forest.. only Grimm.." It seemed like torture to pronounce every word. Your vision was blurry, but you were obliged to hold out.

“Another guest won’t be such a problem,” Dominic answered. "Can you get up?"

No. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to get up. You couldn't even lie to yourself. You didn’t even have to answer, the main one came up and extended his hands to the cat. With trembling hands, struggling not to pull them away, you allowed the cat to be taken away

"Groom, stay and look after last one. Shelpi and I will go get Neige"

The one who was called Groom grumbled without ceasing, but still approached you. Watching the children disappear among the greenery, you allowed yourself to relax. At least Grimm was safe.

"Hey. Hey! Come to your senses!"

You felt someone shaking your shoulder, but you couldn’t make out anything else. Only at some point did you hear someone’s worried voice, but you couldn’t make out what exactly he was saying.

You came to your senses, then fell into oblivion again. Voices, sounds, light caused dizziness and rejection. The only thing you remembered throughout the entire chaotic state was that pleasant voice and someone’s warm hands.

"You woke up!" Someone voiced it before you even realized it yourself. It’s just that at some point you stopped distinguishing between reality and a dream, but it seems that this time you were definitely in reality. "Wait, I'll call Dominic"

This name fluttered familiarly in memory. That's right, that was the name of the bright child. Following with an unfocused gaze the young man - although now in your eyes he was just a colored spot - who quickly rushed off somewhere, leaving you with him for a minute.

Closing your eyelids, you tried to focus on the present. You weren't abandoned in the forest, that's a plus. The attacker didn't show up yesterday, or maybe you just weren't found. The questions “Who” and “Why” remained unanswered. It would be possible to close your eyes and not chase your tail, as before, but your intuition suggested that this time it would be different. That this was just the calm before the next storm. But you no longer had the strength to look for shelter so as not to be carried away to the mercy of fate.

A quiet knock brought you back to reality. It was strange, the young man didn’t seem to lock the door. Opening your eyes slightly, you squinted, trying to make out the newcomer. As you thought, it turned out to be the same child. Next to him stood someone your age - maybe a little older or younger - with a friendly smile. The corners of your lips slightly twitched upward, but they couldn’t become the same full-fledged smile.

"Are you feeling better now?" Asked the child, who continued speaking after a nod from you. “You’re probably still confused, so I’ll try to speak more slowly. My name is Dominic, my dwarf brothers and me have been living in this forest for a very long time. And this,” he pointed at the young man, “is Neige. Although you may already know him. Let me know what happened to you?"

"…if.. I knew.. someone attacked us while we were flying on the carpet.. we turned over and fell, Grimm.. Grimm! Where is he?" An attempt to sit up abruptly was unsuccessful, causing more circles under the eyes and weakness. A brunette who appeared next to you prevented you from turning over and falling out of bed

"Your friend is okay!" The dwarf immediately answered hastily. "He, like you, needs to rest. But you need to do this first. During the fall, you broke a rib" you immediately touched your burning side. “It will take time to heal.”

"Do you know who could have attacked you?“ The young man asked softly, holding out a glass of water that had come from nowhere. However, you weren't complaining.

Having given a short thank you to him and the boy, as a sign that you were already feeling better, you began to hastily rebuild your plan of action. It was impossible to linger, but on the other hand, going in the current state was no less stupid. You understood that the fall could not have happened without something - there was a limit to luck and the capabilities of the human body - but the awareness did not brighten up what was happening.

“No.. No, this is my first time in these lands,” after a couple of sips it became easier to speak. “We were flying… yes, we were flying,” you strained your tired memory. "…someone shot! I remembered the arrow!" Looking hopefully at Dominic, you saw a worried look. As if he realized who exactly attacked you and the Grimm. For some reason, you doubted whether it was worth finding out the truth. "This is not someone from the royal family, right?"

You tried to laugh, but it sounded pathetic even to your own ears. For some reason, the duo didn't appreciate your joke.

“It might have been Rook,” you frowned, another new name. “He works as a hunter and serves Vi,” the young man tried to keep the conversation going with the same light laugh, which came out better than yours. However the impression he made was the same - he did not inspire confidence.

“Vi?” You asked carefully, afraid to confirm your fears.

"Exactly, you don’t know. That's what I call Vil, he is the king of these lands. We saw each other quite often at the castle!"

You were doomed. You could see the world literally crumbling before your eyes. This is exactly what was needed for happiness. Purely to confirm what you already suspected, you turned to Dominic, "What is the probability that… how did you call him, Rook?.. Reported everything to the king?"

Silence was a convincing enough answer.

Despite the chance of being discovered, you remained in the dwarves' house. It was inspired by the hopelessness and persuasiveness of Neige, who took upon himself the responsibility of your personal doctor. Although this was too strong a word, the process was still more led by the chief of the dwarves. Gradually you got to know the others.

Groom and Shelpi were part of the company that day. Although the first one was rude and hot-tempered, you couldn’t call him bad. It just took some getting used to. Shelpi was his opposite. A dwarf with a perpetually sleepy look, although you could understand him. In your current state, all you wanted to do was sleep.

There were four more gnomes: Timmy, Toby, Snick and Hop. You saw Timmy only from afar and only in someone else’s company. Perhaps he was just nervous around strangers. Toby was a sweetheart whose memory failed him more often than usual. Hop was a classic example of a cheerful child, and Snick's specialty was his perpetual allergies.

Watching their noisy but cheerful routine was a pleasant change from the nightmare that was happening in your life before. Nevertheless, you remembered Heartslabyul’s experience and were in no hurry to relax.

The more time you spent in their friendly company, the stronger the feeling of guilt grew. Understanding that they would come for you. Now or a little later didn't matter. Just like how many troubles befell the cat’s head for the company. Asking to take care of Grimm was another breaking through the ceiling called “selfishness,” but… that incident made it clear that problems were pouring down on your head more and more often. Their consequences were becoming increasingly difficult to correct.

Living with guilt was unbearable.

So much so that you were unable to look into the eyes of your faithful friend, who has literally gone through thick and thin with you, and you decided to leave him.

You didn't even hope for forgiveness. Deep inside you understood that this was just an attempt to come to an agreement with yourself, a struggle for the opportunity to hate yourself a little less. Looking at the recovering cat, this thought took root more firmly in his consciousness.

The pathetic excuse “it will be better this way.”

Gradually you were allowed to take short walks. Your side still hurt, as did the wounds on back, but the fresh air helped to distract you and not drown in self-flagellation. The only activity for which you always had the strength.

Hoping to find your things, you tried to find the crash site from memory. It was stupid, especially since those trinkets were of no value. To some extent, they simply gave an imaginary sense of belonging. Reminders of your home world, which seemed farther and farther away day by day.

Moving aside the branches, you were finally able to find the desired clearing. It was like all the others, but some internal awareness did not allow you to pass by.

Check and leave.

Simple plan - simple implementation. Searching among the bushes without bending down was another challenge. Having sat down, you rose to your feet again with great difficulty, the shooting pain in your lower back made itself felt every time you tried to find your treasured things.

Breathing heavily, you leaned your hand on the trunk of a nearby tree. A little break won't hurt anyone, that's for sure in your condition. Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the clearing once again, making mental notes of where the bag might have been thrown.

There was not a soul around, or at least it seemed so. Perhaps over time you became too suspicious, but at the moment you could not leave the feeling of being watched, no matter how stupid it may sound. Who could be in the deep forest, right? Unless… who attacked you and the Grimm that day. You tsked and took another breath, trying to calm down.

It was dangerous to return to the house: you didn’t want to let Neige and his friends down. Trying to escape in an unknown direction was reckless. You didn’t know these places, one wrong turn and Robinson Crusoe will appear in this forest. Although you doubted that this world had heard of him. The possibility of becoming a discoverer was not encouraging.

"Ma cheri! What a rarity it is to find such a beautiful creature in such a dense thicket,” a voice that came out of nowhere took you by surprise.

Turning towards the sound at a speed you didn’t know you were capable of, you saw a strange blond-haired young man.

“Are you… talking about me?..” You asked carefully, simultaneously looking for a way to escape. Now the suspicions no longer seemed groundless.

"Oui! Yes and yes! A triple "yes" is not enough to prove the sincerity of my words. How brave and reckless are walks in the wilds, where every animal and people poses a danger. I had already decided that that knowledge, Fata Morgana, which had darkened my mind and revealed such a fragile angel in human form!"

He spoke a lot and not very clearly, sometimes you lost the thread of the story. In your best times, you didn’t like such conversations, let alone today. However, this was a good opportunity to look at the blond. He was wearing a cream-colored tunic, loose pants and a hat with a fluffy white feather.

It was necessary to come up with an excuse and as quickly as possible. Perhaps you would be able to wander around, wait for him to leave, and return home without consequences. However, this would be too loud a statement. If there's one thing life has taught you, it was not to think ahead of time.

"Thank you, I guess?.. Did you want something?" You decided to ask directly.

"Oh, that's right. Wandering among the flora and fauna, I found one interesting little thing,” he sadly shook his head while you did everything to prevent doubts from showing on your face. "Obeying the will of my heart, I am trying to find the owner."

Emphasizing the last word, he smiled, narrowing his eyes. The nature of the emotion that flashed through them made you shiver.

"Well, I wish you good luck in your search, sir.."

"Hunt! But you can call me by my name, just Rook,” digging your nails into the palms, you kept a friendly expression on your face through an effort of will. The blond raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, and then also calmly began to close the distance. "I don’t dare to hope that you have heard of me. However, like me about you. His Majesty, Roi du Poison, has been wanting to meet you for quite some time, and who are we to refuse him."

Looking ahead at the outstretched hand and the unshakable figure of - as Neige said - the hunter, you doubted that you had any chance of escape.

#tenshi talk #it was written.. in last august. #yes yes yes i know all you might want to tell me #i won`t blame you for forgeting this series #but! #i don`t have anything to post so let it be #maybe i`ll finish pomefiore`s part bu don`t get your hopes hight about last dorms #i.. tired of this plot and idea to write a proper continuation #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #pomefiore #twst rook hunt #rook hunt #twst vil #vil schoenheit #twst epel #epel felmier #twst neige #neige leblanche #i didn't know that i missed writing rook until this moment