#I’ll put up another page
Note
Hi!! If you're up to it do you think you could write something about the first time Jason brings his gf to the manor. Like maybe he brings her in but doesn't tell anyone and so everyone is trying to sneak a glimpse of her??
meet the family
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason has a girlfriend???
warnings: none
The manor sits full as ever—a cloud of mild boredom sweeping over the Wayne clan.
Dick sits perched on top of an armchair reading a catalog, Stephanie’s splayed out across the couch, Cass is bundled up in blankets atop the ottoman, and Damian leans up against the center table from the floor.
It’s a relatively slow afternoon, until Tim comes bursting into the room, out of breath.
“There’s a girl here!”
Everybody looks at him, disinterest scattered across the room. “There’s a couple of ‘em.” Dick says, flipping through the pages of the magazine.
Tim huffs, “No! In Jason’s room—he has a girl in there!” Eyebrows shoot up at that.
“Now I know you’re lying.” Damian mutters.
Tims head snaps over to Damian. “Dude, go see for yourself. I heard her!”
“You really think Jason would bring a girl here and not even introduce us?” Steph asks, unconvinced.
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Obviously.”
Cassandra nods fervently.
“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Stephanie mutters. “I bet he’ll introduce me before any of you guys, though.”
Dick barks out a laugh, “You’re nothing short of delusional if you think he’s introducing any of us.”
“We’ll have to take matters into our own hands, then.” Tim says, decidedly.
Damian audibly sighs and rolls his eyes.
“I’m meeting her first.” Steph confirms. “I’ll put money down right now.”
“Meet her or see her?” Cass signs.
“Same thing.” Stephanie shrugs.
Dick shoots up from his seat, “First person to see her gets to be the ring bearer!” He announces, racing out of the room.
Knock knock knock knock knock…
Knock knock.
It takes a good forty seconds, but Jason opens the door, an annoyed frown already on his face.
Dick gives him his brightest smile. It beams of deceit in Jason's eyes. “Hey man. What’cha doing?”
He crosses his arms. “What do you want?”
Dick tries to peer around Jason into the room, but Jason made a point of barely opening the door and his large frame isn’t doing Dick any favors right now.
“Just wanted to say hey…You wanna hang out?”
“No.”
Dick lingers awkwardly. “…Are you sure?”
Jason shuts the door.
A couple minutes later, Tim comes running up the stairs. He opts to skip over the courtesy of knocking and go straight for barging through the door himself. Or he would’ve, if Jason hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away and locked it.
“Fuck off, Tim!” Jason calls from inside the room.
“You lost your right to privacy the second you walked in this house!” He shouts back, hitting his fist against the door.
And Tim swears he can hear a sweet laugh as he trudges away. The authenticity of that claim will be heavily debated downstairs for the next several minutes.
Not even a thirty seconds later, Stephanie comes a knockin’. Jason opens the door wordlessly, patience clearly dissipating more and more.
“Hey, Jason! I can’t find my comm, you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”
His face deadpans. “No, Steph.”
Stephanie clicks her tongue, “Can you check?”
He stares at her.
“Actually you’re right, it would be faster if I did.” Stephanie tries to push past him into the room, but Jason, unsurprisingly, doesn’t budge.
“Stephanie.”
“I just want to meet her!” She pleads. “I won’t even tell the others, I’ll just say you wouldn’t let me in either!”
“Bye.” He closes the door.
He doesn’t make it all the way back to the bed before the next knock, singular and short.
Jason snaps the door open again, looking down at Damian with a glare.
Never one to waste any time, “Is there a girl in here?” Damian asks, seeming thoroughly disinterested in the answer.
Jason shuts the door in his face.
Several minutes later, another, quieter knock. Jason’s groan can be heard from outside the room. He pulls open the door once again.
It’s Cass.
She stares at him.
He stares at her.
“Can I say hi to her?” She signs.
Jason sighs. “I’ll pass along the message.”
She smiles and turns back down the hall.
Jason closes and locks the door once again, trudging back over to the bed where you lay. He collapses onto your chest, your arms wrapping around each others bodies immediately.
“Cass says hi.” He mumbles, the sound obscured by his face-down position.
“That message would be a lot more meaningful if I actually knew Cass.”
He groans. “You don’t want to meet them.”
“I do.” You say, running your fingers through his hair. “And I think you do too, or you wouldn’t have brought me to the house where the world's best detectives live.”
“I’m starting to regret it now.”
“Come on. Please?” You plead.
He picks his head up to look at you.
“Are you sure?” He asks with a grimace.
“Absolutely.” You say, topping it off with a kiss on his cheek.
He sighs.
Well. It’s never been within Jason’s skill set to deny you, anyways.
You descend the stairs hand in hand with Jason, his energy mopier than usual. You can hear a gaggle of voices coming from a room ahead, all talking over one another.
“Okay, Tim, you climb up outside the window and—”
“—It’s your plan, you scale the side of the house.”
Jason drops his head and mutters a “Jesus Christ…” as you near the commotion.
You give him a reassuring smile and pat his back as you both move into the doorway.
Everyone’s heads snap to the doorway, eyes wide and waiting.
Jason takes a deep breath like he’s stealing himself for torture. “Guys…This is my girlfriend.”
“Hi.” You smile sweetly, waving to the room.
There’s a moment of still silence before the room erupts.
“Hold on—”
“—my god, she’s so pretty!”
“Oh wow—”
“Wait, what?”
”—You’re real?”
“—didn’t place that bet.”
Stephanie comes scurrying up to you and grabs both of your hands in hers. “Hi, I’m Steph!” She says with a beaming smile. “What’s your name?”
“I’m—”
But the others are right on her tail, crowding around you.
“We didn’t even know Jason had a girlfriend.” Tim says.
“Still not convinced.” Damian mumbles from the back.
Cass waves and signs something to you.
“She says we’re really happy to meet you, which we are.” Dick tells you.
Damian moves closer within the huddle and inspects you closely. You have no idea what he’s inspecting you for. You don’t need to dwell on it for long because Jason pushes his head away from you with mild force making Damian scowl.
“Did he bring you here to meet us? The others said—” Stephanie asks.
Jason cuts her off, already knowing exactly where that sentence was going. “I brought her here to show her my old room.”
Dick snickers, “Oh, is that what you were off doing?”
“Watch it.” Your boyfriend warns.
You nudge him with your elbow, be nice.
Tim moves closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “So you’ve like, spent time with him and everything? And you still want to be around him?”
“Okay and you’re done.” Jason takes your hand and leads you out of the room and back down the hallway.
“No wait!”
You’re already out of the room and into another and then another before you can even realize that you’re headed for the front door.
You stop in your tracks, pulling him to a halt as well. “What about—”
Jason shakes his head. “You don’t want to meet him.”
You lower your chin at him, “Jay. Do you want me to meet him?”
He’s silent and doesn’t look like he particularly does.
You sigh, “Okay, do you want him to meet me?”
“I—yeah…” he trails, and you give him your best sweet eyes, the ones that he knows he has no business saying no to. “I…okay. Okay.”
He leads you down another hallway, the sounds of his siblings clambering echoing in the distance. You end up in a room that looks like a never used study, where Jason pushes on one of the walls. It slides open with a bit of force from him, revealing a door with a keypad next to it.
He types a series of numbers into it, and opens it up to a narrow passageway that looks remarkably like a cave.
The passageway leads down to a set of stairs, and you can hear the loud sound of water in the distance.
You’re quite nervous about walking into the Batcave, but you know Jason wouldn’t bring you anywhere near it unless he was sure it would be okay. Okay for you that is, more so than his father.
“Careful. It’s slippery.” Jason holds your hand the whole way down anyway, making sure to linger no more than a step and a half in front of you.
You see Bruce Wayne, sitting at a desk with a large array of computer screens in front of it, and case files scattered all throughout the surface.
He doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, though you have to imagine if Jason got his observation skills from anywhere, it would be him.
As you approach, Jason switches your hands so that his right is holding your left. The result has his figure half covering you, you can only assume partially limiting Bruce’s view of you.
“Bruce.”
Bruce turns his chair around, regarding Jason with a raised chin. The greeting is somehow even more formal than you’d expected.
“Jason.” He readdresses his gaze to you. “Who’s this?”
Jason has a hell of a feeling that Bruce already knows exactly who you are. He’s probably known about you since you started dating. He would’ve had to, to not be pissed as hell that Jason brought a civilian into the cave.
Jason introduces you, his hand reluctantly letting go as you step forward to shake Bruce’s.
Bruce looks surprised, though pleasantly so. He smiles and shakes it kindly.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says.
“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, smiling.
He laughs, “Oh, I bet.” Looking to Jason, he says, “I can’t say I’ve had the same pleasure, unfortunately.”
Though Jason’s behind you now, you can practically feel him roll his eyes.
“No, I can’t imagine him sharing anything unprovoked.” Bruce smiles widely at that.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but Jason, who’s probably on the brink of losing his mind down here, interrupts.
“Alright. Time to go.” Jason says, grabbing your hand again. He doesn’t give you much time to protest before he’s guiding you by the waist past him and towards the stairs.
You let him nudge you out and call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you!”
He’s halfway up the stairs as you exit, only to be stopped by Bruce addressing him again.
“Jason.”
Jason stalls his steps, turning around slowly. You’re out of the cave now, and Jason’s not excited to be alone with his Dad for even a minute. It doesn’t help that he has no idea what he’ll say.
“She’s kind.” Bruce says, simply.
“Yes.”
He tilts his head at Jason, observing him. “You love her?”
Jason looks at the ground. “Yes.”
Bruce nods. “Good.”
He returns to his work at the computers wordlessly, and Jason has to take a moment to realign himself before he climbs the rest of the stairs.
Jason doesn’t particularly seek his fathers approval, nor does he place any definable value on it. However, hearing him give his own version of his blessing to you struck something inside Jason. Something deep in his chest.
He re-enters the study, finding it empty. He walks out into the hallway, where you’re nowhere to be found. Despite being halfway across the house by this point, he can distinctly hear his siblings chattering in the living room. Chattering. And chattering. And chattering…
Oh god, you went back to the living room.
As Jason approaches the conversation becomes clearer.
“—long have you been together, anyways?”
“Well—”
Stephanie gasps suddenly, cutting you off. “Oh wait, you have to meet Alfred!”
“Oh, we’ve already met.” You tell her.
Dick’s head snaps up. “What? When?”
Jason enters the room, draping his arm around your shoulder. “About six months before you met her.”
A chorus of gasps and shouts ring out.
“What?”
#hey alia#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x you#jason todd/you#jason todd imagine#jason todd/reader#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd x reader#batfam x you#batfam imagine#batfam fanfiction#batfam fanfic#batfam x reader#batfam dynamics
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A Marriage Story
Summary: You met your husband Spencer at college and fell in love at first sight. A decade later, he’s struggling to be the man you need after spending months away in prison. Can you find your way back to each other even when outside influences want to keep you apart?
Content warnings: smut, fluff and angst all rolled into one, rough sex, oral sex, degradation, sub/dom dynamics, references to infidelity and divorce
WC: 10.7k
“Can’t sleep?” You peered into the living room to see your husband slouched across the sofa, sporting a stiff, groggy expression as he examined what looked to be a pine-green leatherbound book.
“It would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” He mumbled in response, barely looking up. Spencer was snarky by nature- it was something you’d grown accustomed to and even found endearing- but you were woefully unprepared for just how much would change following his stint in prison.
“You can barely read in here, it’s so dark.” You grumbled as you stretched to turn on an orange light posted in the corner. Your fingertips brushed past the bobbly canvas of the lampshade as you recalled how the appliance was a wedding gift. You weren’t exactly sure who bestowed it to you but the memory made you a little misty-eyed.
“And you don’t have your glasses either.” You muttered under your breath as you readily paced to your bedroom down the hall to retrieve his black-rimmed specs. “Here you go.” You extended your arm out, waiting for him to take them out of your grasp but he paid no notice.
“Spence.” You nudged him but he just shook his head wordlessly and retreated into his pages even more, squinting profusely. Perching beside him, you tucked his unruly waves out of his face and nestled them behind his ear before carefully sliding on his glasses, letting them rest on the delicate bridge of his nose.
“Thanks.” He whispered after a while and you tried your best not to sigh at the state of your husband. His under eyes throbbed purple, the darkness consuming them in a veiny, crescent spill. There was no avoiding the way Spencer’s eyes had gradually dullened, as if the light had drained from them entirely.
“It’s 3 in the morning, my love. Clearly that stiff sofa isn’t doing you any favours, why don’t you try sleeping in our bed tonight?” You hummed, nervously pawing at his forearm in anticipation of his answer.
“Not tonight.” He dismissed, shaking off your hand as he recoiled from you.
“You always said that sleeping with me put your mind to rest. Let me scoop you up into my arms and I’ll bet those nightmares will ease right up.” You nuzzled into him playfully, badly craving that now unfamiliar warmth. It had been 3 months since Spencer returned home from jail and another 3 since you’d even slept in the same room.
“That was back then.” He replied coldly, swallowing a lump in his throat before finally looking up to meet your gaze. “The sofa is just fine now.”
“So you plan on spending the rest of our marriage sleeping in here, do you?” You laughed in disbelief, overwhelmed by the incredible misfortune that had struck your husband- and by cursed extension, you.
“I didn’t say that.” He ripped off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with tired frustration. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I have been more than understanding.” You observed the broken man hunched over before you with both pity and unbridled anger. “But my lenience has a limit. At some point, you have to get over it.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through.” He snapped back, almost interrupting.
“Because you won’t tell me.” You countered, blood pressure rising over his incredulous obstinance. “How am I supposed to help you if you don’t let me?”
“I don’t need your help.” He scoffed, shuffling back as if the slightest contact with you made his skin crawl.
“I am your wife.” You uttered solemnly, the words beginning to sound foreign to you both. “Or have you forgotten?”
“How could I? You never leave me alone.” He stated carelessly with such absurd cruelty that it made your heart split in two.
“Who are you? I don’t even recognise you anymore.” Your voice trembled as tears swelled and you willed yourself not to fall apart entirely right then and there.
“I don’t recognise myself either.” He murmured inaudibly.
Awkwardly plumping the pillows you had flattened as you rose, you straightened out your cotton nightie and headed towards the solitary bedroom, leaving Spencer glaring shamefully at the floor.
“Do you remember our wedding day?” You whispered into the doorway, unsure whether he would even hear.
“Of course I do.” He sighed heavily, as if the memory hurt him and he wasn’t too grateful for the reminder.
Realising that those were the only words you’d be able to coax out of him tonight, you proceeded down the corridor and slumped into bed defeatedly. The right side of the bed was always kept empty, partly out of habit and partly out of hope that he might, by some miracle, change his mind one of these nights and join you. A particular quote that your husband once read aloud from a Nietzsche book sprang to mind: “In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs the torments of man.” He had laughed it off as the words left his perfect lips, dismissing the mournful proclamation as pessimistic melodrama- but now you wondered whether the boy genius had, for once, been wrong. Clutching a rumpled old pillow close to your chest, you thought back to better days as your melancholy lulled you to sleep.
“Spencer, you’re so annoying.” You playfully slapped his forearm once you caught sight of the little drawings he was leaving in your notebook. “This journal is for my notes, not your mediocre art. Is that one meant to be me?” You pointed at the silly stickman with long hair and a speech bubble declaring ‘I love Spencer’.
“Well you’re obviously not the ruggedly handsome one.” He gestured at the nerdy-looking bespectacled caricature of himself. It was evident he didn’t have the highest self regard but you couldn’t figure out why- to you, there was no one more perfect. “Do you write about me in your little diary?” He glided the pages out of your reach and began flicking through their contents with a sneer. Knowing exactly what he would find, you allowed him to skim through your written confession as you witnessed his expression soften.
“I met a guy today in my criminology class.” He muttered, reading an early entry aloud. “I hardly know anything about him, but I’m already certain I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Is that crazy? To love a complete stranger? I think I would let him drive me into the furthest depths of insanity if it meant I could hold onto a piece of him forever.”
You blushed hearing your own words spilling from his lips, recalling the day you met on your first day of college.
“Wait.” Spencer put your notebook down before frantically rummaging through his backpack to retrieve his own. Yanking out a pine-green leatherbound journal, he flitted through its pages before turning it around and sliding it across the library desk. “Read this here.” He tapped a passage located right around the middle with an impatient forefinger.
“Okay…” You drawled hesitantly, sliding your textbooks out of the way to focus on the script put before you. “I met a girl today. That doesn’t really happen to me. Liking aforementioned girl is even more of a rarity but today, I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning. There I was, my nose deep in a second edition tome of Fundamentals of Research in Criminal Justice when someone who could only be described as a blinding ray of sunshine bounded into the lecture hall. When she took a seat in the back row beside me and made a deliciously snide comment over Garland’s incompetency in examining the Lombrosian Project, I knew I was a goner. Note to self: do further research on what it means to be ‘in love’.”
“Yours was a little more romantic.” He chuckled, observing the incredulous look on your face.
“Spence…” You shook your head as you grabbed his hand and tried unsuccessfully to convey the complexity of your feelings. “I- I don’t know what to say.”
“I love you.” He said simply, like he had many times before but you never grew tired of hearing it.
“I love you too.” You grinned, resisting the urge to kiss him and give surrounding students in the stuffy library a show.
“Can I ask you something crazy? But promise not to think about it too much.” He chewed on his bottom lip with an almost crazed look in his eyes.
“You can’t surprise me anymore.” You nodded, giggling.
“Do you want to get married?” The question made you break out into a flurry of goosebumps, contradicting your last sentence entirely.
“W-what?” You raised your eyebrows, listening intently for a sign that he was just teasing.
“Right now. Lets go somewhere and get married.” You scanned his handsome face in shock as you realised he was being serious.
“B-but we’re only 22. We’re so young.”
“Yes, we are.” He calmly responded, allowing you to run through all your doubts.
“A-and we still haven’t graduated.”
“No, we haven’t.” He shook his head.
“And oh, our parents would be so mad!”
“They very well might be. Marry me anyway.” He flashed a broad, toothy smile and the way it made your heart stop gave you the only indication you needed.
“Okay.” You smiled.
“Okay?!” He repeated in surprise.
“Okay. I’ll marry you.”
Spencer shot out of his seat, lifting you up with him as he grabbed you by the face, planting excitable kisses over your lips and cheeks.
“Don’t we need to make appointments for this kind of thing?” You squeaked out between kisses, the logistical cogs in your mind whirring.
“Well, baby.” He paused, gazing into your eyes with a mischevious twinkle. “It’s a good thing we live in Vegas.”
Grabbing each other’s hand with a fervour you thought would last forever, you headed straight to a walk-in chapel, where along with two drunken witnesses you dragged off the street and a pair of vending machine wedding bands, you officiated your love. The haughtily dressed minister, who resembled a cowboy more than a government official thanks to his white, studded getup- took several takes before agreeing to ordain the ceremony. “Crazy kids…” he muttered under his breath when you managed to persuade him, ushering you down the altar with a disapproving sigh.
Spencer marvelled at how you could look so beautiful in a cheap, rented veil and he vowed that day that he would never dare take you for granted. He would make damn sure to remember just how blessed he was, no matter what life threw at him.
He remained true to his word for the most part, proceeding to spend the next decade or so faithfully by your side. As in most areas of his life, Spencer excelled at being a husband. After his first substantial promotion, he knew exactly what to spend all his savings on: he made a beeline to Tiffany’s for a long overdue engagement ring, surprising you with the small robin’s-egg-blue box on a random Tuesday night. You loved it, of course, and gushed over the lavish diamond, proudly flashing it to anyone who would let you- though you kept your tarnished old band on your bedside table and observed it with nostalgic fondness.
Every promise Spencer made, Spencer kept. From the silly details down to the crux of your marriage, he was unfalteringly respectful, supportive and always appreciative.
You certainly weren’t too shabby playing the part of his wife either. Dinner was always on the table, the house was always spick and span and you had no shortage of tight outfits to greet him home dressed up in. You hadn’t ever anticipated your role in life would be that of a housewife but Spencer made it easy- and if you had to be one, a loving, handsome genius was the man for the job. You figured you could do worse.
When the company you worked for years ago filed for bankruptcy and you were too burnt out to look elsewhere, your husband was more than happy to assume his new position as the breadwinner.
While the thought of relying on a man used to inundate you with horror, this particular man was like something out of a movie- for him, you made every exception, choosing a life of domestic bliss in suburbia over the dreams you once had. You weren’t the most fulfilled woman in the world but you’d never had serious concerns- until this year. It wasn’t Spencer’s habit of overprioritising work, nor his stretch in prison- it wasn’t even the thousand yard stare that painted his face at all hours of the day following his release.
It was the arrival of the sudden and unprecedented thought that he might actually leave you.
As many fights as you’d had over the years, the possibility that Spencer may not be the man you spend the rest of your life with had never once crossed your mind- you had it ticked off as a definite and planned your life accordingly around that simple fact. You thought you had agreed that nothing could ever tear you apart.
But now; the way he recoiled when you came near him and the disdain that dripped from his voice when he spoke to you had you reconsidering whether the man you knew would ever make a return.
It was your biggest fear and everything your mother had warned you about; her nauseating words gnawed at you as you remembered how staunchly she opposed your impromptu decision to get married. She never really accepted Spencer- choosing instead to graciously tolerate him as a favour to you, but neither of you were under any illusions as to what her real thoughts on the matter were.
“There you are, I was beginning to think you stood me up.” The lofty voice of your mother rang out and the air sharply shifted around her.
“Sorry, mother. I- uh, woke up a little late. Got caught in the midday traffic.” You sniffled, trying your utmost to be subtle over the fact you’d spent all morning weeping pathetically in bed.
“Yes, I suppose that’s something you can afford being unemployed and childless.” She scoffed, suspiciously eyeing up your puffy face. “Though I suspect traffic isn’t to blame on this particular occasion.”
“Of course it is.” You dismissed, taking a seat before her at the garden restaurant you had agreed to meet for lunch in. It was a little too snooty for your taste, but then so was she.
Burying your face in the menu before she had the chance to inspect your somewhat ragged appearance further, you tried to ignore her heavy sighing.
“I worry about you, you know.” She lowered your menu with a pristinely manicured finger.
“Oh trust me, I know.” You rolled your eyes and snatched the menu back, eyeing up the scandalously named cocktails and wondering how many you could get away with ordering.
“I’m being serious. Your whole life revolves around him. And he’s a mess. You know what that makes you?” She reached into her handbag and fished for a compact mirror.
“Please, enlighten me.” You groaned as she checked her mauve lipstick.
“A mess by extension.” She haughtily added, snapping the mirror closed with a snappy click. “And it’s my job as your mother to set you straight.”
“Lucky me.” You muttered, disinterested.
“Listen to me, young lady. I don’t care how old you get or how much you think you know, I know better. You need to come back down to Earth and realise that your marriage is failing.” She snakes her hand across the table and places it on top of your own. “Prison changes a man. He’s not the Spencer you once knew.”
“You think I don’t know that?” You retorted stroppily. “I know he’s changed but that doesn’t mean we’re going to- we’re not getting a- you know…”
“Divorce?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, that.” You shrugged.
“It fills me with deep concern that you can’t even say the word. How are you going to function when he leaves you?”
“Mother!” You gasped.
“Oh, if and when, same thing.” She waved a hand in the air dismissively, her nimble pearl bracelets clinking against one another. “My point is, darling, you must accept that there’s a…significant possibility your life will change. You need to be ready for it.”
“No.” You shook your head, refusing to let her words sink in. “Spence wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t leave me.”
“Oh?” She finally removed her sunglasses and you caught sight of the genuine concern in her steely eyes. “What did he say to you before you left this morning?”
Your eyes shot to the floor as you remembered how he’d elected to go to work early, leaving the house without a farewell as was his routine these days. Seeing the anxiety and shame written all over your face, your mother sighed yet again.
“Men in these situations often seek comfort in others.” She softened her tone but not her words. “You’re too close to the situation to make him feel better about it. You know too much.”
“What are you trying to say?” You squinted.
“He needs to feel like a man right now. And you can’t give him that.” She innocently sipped from the paper straw floating in her lemon water.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismissed her, the thought of Spencer cheating inconceivable.
“Look out for the signs. If he’s working late too often, if he has secretive phone calls…” She trailed off. “It can’t hurt to pay attention.”
Although you tried not to let them, her words had a nagging way of worming themselves into your brain and never coming back out.
Later that evening, you returned to the empty confines of your house and spent several hours anxiously flitting your eyes to the clock on the wall. He should’ve been home early today.
“Spence, is that you?” You called out once you heard the faint clicking of the door unlocking. The slow thudding of his heavy footsteps was heard before he entered your bedroom, looking very weary and sporting even more stubble than usual.
“Who else would it be?” He asked with a shadow of a smile. Offering no explanation, he peeled off his blazer and loosened his tie as he perched on the edge of the bed.
“Must be a really tough case you’re working on with the amount of overtime shifts you’ve been putting in.” You cleared your throat.
“It’s, uh, it’s been a tricky one. Yeah.” A deafening silence followed his obscure reply.
“Did you give any more thought to taking time off work?” You continued, yearning to wrap your arms around him but resisting.
“No. I mean, yes I did, but I don’t want any time off. It wouldn’t help, I can hardly stand being at home.” You gulped at the hurtful connotation and he turned around to face you. “No, I didn’t mean like that. Not because of you. You know what I’m trying to say.”
“Not sure I do.” You muttered under your breath.
“I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” He dropped his head into his hands and took a deep, stabilising breath. “I just need time.”
“Of course, Spence, I understand that. It’s only that- well, i-it’s been 6 months. 6 months of me doting on you and letting you get away with acting and speaking to me however you like. At what point does it end?” Your words had a desperate tinge to them. “I need some kind of indication.”
“I can’t tell you the exact time and date that I will forget everything that happened to me.” He stood up with a huff and you knew you’d touched a nerve.
“Don’t get defensive, I’m just trying to talk to you.” You got up and stood beside him, laying a flat palm to his chest. “To get through to you somehow, anyhow.”
You could feel his warm, unsteady breath on your skin as he scrunched his eyes shut, wanting to be anywhere but here.
“Why can’t you talk to me? You used to be able to tell me everything.” Your voice cracked as you rubbed your thumb across his cheek pleadingly.
“I can’t give you what you want. Not right now.” He gently lowered your hand and stared into your eyes apologetically.
“We haven’t made love in so long.” You murmured hesitantly and he shot you an irksome look. You hated to bring it up but the pain of his rejection was getting too much to bear- you had to let him know how badly you needed him.
“Is that why you’ve been on my case so much lately?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“No, of course not.” You sighed. “Not the only reason, at least.”
“Sorry, baby. I’ve been too busy dealing with major trauma to factor in your sex drive.” He quipped sarcastically.
“That’s not fair, Spencer.” You had anticipated such a response but your heart dropped anyway when you heard it. “It’s not just about that and you know it. I just miss my husband- all of him.”
“Things change.” He mumbled.
“Well, will they ever change back?” You snapped a little. “Tell me right now, can I get my husband back? Matter of fact, do you even want to come back?”
Your eyes betrayed you with a steady stream of tears pouring down your reddened cheeks.
“Do you still want me?” Your voice quivered, praying he wouldn’t take this opportunity to shatter you completely.
“Yes. I do.” He answered simply though there was an air of conflict about him. “I’ve loved being your husband. I just, I- not now. I just can’t. I can’t do it.”
He shook his head and paced out to the hall, shutting the living room door loudly once he was safely inside.
Your blood began to boil. All the grace and understanding you’d shown him this year and he couldn’t even finish a conversation without running away like a coward.
“You bastard. Come back here right now, Reid.” You barked out, running after him. “Or so help me God-.”
“You’ll do what?” He opened up, lean figure resting against the door frame. ”You gonna kill me, honey?”
“I just might!” You shrieked frustratedly. “I’m so unbelievably sick of you doing nothing but sulking and feeling sorry for yourself. Enough is enough. Wake up and smell the fucking flowers!” You crossed your arms, exasperated and a small smirk spread across his handsome face. “You’re smiling.”
“Such good attention to detail. This is exactly why I married you.” He winked and you slapped his arm a little too forcefully. “Yes, I’m smiling. You’re adorable when you’re bratty.”
“If being at my wits end with you means being a brat then yes, I’m the biggest brat in the world!” You started bawling- you knew it was irrational but you were too sensitive and overwhelmed with emotion to let his teasing slide.
“I know, I know. It’s okay, shh.” He pulled you in close, pressing your delicate head against his chest. “Come on, my love. You know I can’t stand seeing you cry.”
“How come you’ve been letting me do it every night, then?” You whimpered, pitiful words swallowed by the fabric of his white work shirt.
“I didn’t think it was that bad.” He looked down at you, a noxious blend of guilt and sympathy flickering in his tired eyes. “I-I thought you understood.”
“Understood what?” You let out a muffled murmur as you drew in his heady scent, the musky cologne combined with his sweat soothing your overwrought senses.
“That even though I’m in a dark place-” He lowered his face until you felt his hot breath against your flushed cheeks. “It doesn’t, for a single second, mean that I don’t love you.”
“Really?” You gazed up at him lamentably. “It was starting to feel that way, li-like nothing I did was good enough.”
“I’m sorry.” He almost winced, his regret tangible in how tightly he held you. “It’s not you, you’re perfect. You’ve been patient and understanding and I’ve completely put our marriage on the back burner….there’s no excuse.” He fell back into the sofa, pulling you down into his lap as he gently spoke.
“God it was just the weight of it all- the weight of how long it was taking me to shake it off. The longer it took, the more I felt like a failure and I couldn’t stand coming home to you every night and disappointing you. Seeing the unfalteringly hopeful look on your face and knowing it’d be wiped off after one conversation with me…I started avoiding you.”
“Spence…” You wilted like a flower at his confession.
“But that was selfish, I know that.” He took your face in his hands and professed earnestly. “I can’t apologise enough, my love.”
“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Your heart leapt as your husband’s familiar warmth flooded you- and while you were grateful to get a glimpse of the old Spencer, you were also confused by the abrupt shift in his demeanour- if not suspicious.
“Honestly? You getting pissed off flipped a switch in me.” He looked just as puzzled as you at the admission. “All this time you haven’t gotten mad once- even when you’re upset, you’re always sweet. I guess it took you acting out of character to make me see just how badly I’ve been treating you. You brought me to my senses by threatening me.”
“And I’ll make good on that threat if you keep shutting me out.” You wagged a finger at him and he chuckled, clasping your hand and planting a soft kiss over it.
“If I ever talk to you like that again, you have my full permission to kill me.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You scowled at him playfully and he patted your damp cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, drying the remnants of your tears.
“I was reading my journal from our college days last night.” He admitted as you soaked up how good it felt to be in his arms again.
“I knew that dusty old green thing looked familiar!” You bit your lip to contain the smile about to burst through. “Why were you looking through that?”
“I needed a reminder of what kind of man I vowed to be. To stay true to that little nerd who couldn’t believe his luck when he got to marry you.” He pressed his forehead against yours as he filled your head with words you’d spent the last 6 months dreaming about. “If you’ll have me, I’d love to sleep in our bed again tonight.”
“You mean it, Spence? You really don’t have to if you don’t-“
“No, I really do. You’re my home, baby. And I’ve been away from home for too long.” He pulled you in closer until his lips gently met yours, kissing you so sweetly you thought you might melt.
“God, I missed you.” You whispered as a shudder ran down your spine, his touch proving to be too much after you’d spent so long deprived.
“I missed you more. I promise I’ll make it up to you. For all my mistakes.” He cooed but you weren’t even paying attention, all your focus centred on the dizzying way his large palm stroked your back.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” He whispered, nudging his shoulder against your own.
“Mhm…” You moaned lazily, allowing him to drag you up and guide you into the comfort of your bedroom, which instantly seemed more welcoming now that you knew he was finally joining you.
“There, all tucked in.” He beamed after stuffing the edges of the duvet beneath your languid body. “I just need to change and brush my teeth, I’ll be right in.” He kissed your forehead and sauntered over to the adjoining bathroom.
Before you could surrender to sleep, you pawed clumsily at the nightstand in search of your phone, overcome with the urge to message your mother- you just had to let her know she was wrong. Composing a text to assure her your marriage was no longer in danger, you sent it through with a satisfied sigh. Unexpectedly, the screen lit up not a moment after you’d put it down, accompanied by a quiet chirp that let you know she had sent one back.
“Don’t let your guard down. Guilt is a powerful thing.” Her ominous words pulsed off the screen and left you feeling queasy.
“Remember what I said. Look for the signs.” A second text flashed across the screen.
You dropped the phone with a shaky clatter, as if your hands couldn’t wait to be rid of the thing. How could she remain insistent that Spencer had been cheating when he’d given next to no indication of it? You would’ve chalked it all down to her longstanding aversion to him and fallen into a peaceful slumber- if it wasn’t for the muttering you heard coming from the other side of the bathroom door.
Like a jumpy cat, you raised yourself against the headboard at once and listened with bated breath. Struggling to make out a complete sentence as the running water smothered his words, you cautiously crept over to the door and ever so slightly pressed your ear against it.
“I appreciate that but I can’t. We’ll have to reschedule.” Spencer’s muffled voice rang out, sounding slightly stressed. “No, I’m not thinking about leaving. I know I need you. Yes. Everything’s fine, I’m just not free tonight.”
You let out an exasperated breath, in pure disbelief over what you’d overheard. Before you could gather your thoughts, the tap stopped running and you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, prompting you to leap into bed and swathe yourself amongst the covers.
“You asleep already, baby?” He whispered when he emerged from the bathroom, pressing his warm, pyjama-clad body flat against yours. You said nothing, remaining as still as a church mouse as he cosily nestled his face into the crook of your neck and dozed off. While your husband enjoyed the best sleep he’d had in the better part of a year, you spent the remainder of the night staring into the expanse of your dark ceiling, paralysed with fear.
A Saturday morning was usually yours and Spencer’s favourite day of the week; it meant you could sleep in, have breakfast in bed and make love until noon all in glorious succession. This particular Saturday was markedly different- partly because Spencer had been called into work- and partly because you couldn’t go a second without driving yourself crazy thinking about his affair.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Hotch is insisting he needs the whole team together.” Spencer rolled his eyes as he hopped around in a struggle to get his socks on. You sat up in bed and nodded complacently, not wanting to set off any alarm bells to your profiler husband. “Hey babe?” He asked, fiddling with his tie.
“Hm?” You smiled innocuously.
“How would you feel if you had to start working again?” He bit his lip and looked at you, full of intrigue. “Would you manage?”
“Umm, I-I don’t know.” You stuttered, caught off guard completely by his question. “Why do you ask?”
“Didn’t you have dreams? Goals you wanted to accomplish?” He asked sincerely and a thinly veiled panic began to rise in you.
“Sure, I guess. I didn’t plan on abandoning them but- I don’t know, life got in the way and other things took priority.”
“Hm. Okay.” He looked absorbed in thought as he grabbed his blazer. “I’ve got to run- how about I meet you for dinner at that new steakhouse in town? We’ve got a lot of things to discuss.”
“We do?” You gulped.
“I know I do.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead as you desperately tried to read his body language. “See you later.”
“Bye, honey.” You choked out as he breezed out the door, leaving you with bile rising up your throat.
You hated to admit it, but your mother was right.
“And-and then he told her he needed her!” You blubbed down the phone when you finally plucked up the courage to call her later that day. “And don’t you dare say you told me so!”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” Your mother retorted dishonestly.
“But that’s not all- before he left this morning, he was asking me how I’d feel if I had to start working again!” You whined, your body racked with so much anxiety it made you nauseous.
“He’s trying to gauge how you’d cope if you no longer had him to financially rely on.” She sighed knowingly. “He’s trying to subconsciously prepare you. It’s almost thoughtful- in his own strange, dysfunctional way. Typical Spencer.”
“You really think this is it? He’s done with me?” You sniffed, desperately hanging onto the last thread of hope. “This might just all be a big misunderstanding.”
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, the late nights, the phone call, the interrogation about your career. And the spontaneous apologetic outburst. It’s clear to see he’s bursting at the seams with guilt.” She tutted, feigning sympathy- but you knew she’d been waiting for Spencer to slip up for years. As much as it might have pained her to see her daughter like this, the satisfaction of knowing Spencer was almost out of her life outweighed the anguish.
“So now what do I do?” You whinged, the last thread snapped.
“You’re going to dress up in the tightest outfit you have, drive down to that restaurant and tell him you want a divorce.” She instructed with her signature self-assured candidness.
“B-but I don’t want a divorce.” You mumbled meekly, acutely aware of how pitiable you sounded.
“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.”
Her words resounded in your aching brain as you rummaged through your closet looking for an outfit that fit the brief, ultimately settling on a satin black mini dress- Spencer’s favourite.
Driving to the restaurant rehearsing your parting words was nothing short of excruciating. You adored your husband just as much as you did the day you first met; spotting him in that lecture hall, shiny brown hair slicked back as he twiddled a pen between his spindly fingers and scrunched his eyebrows up in displeasure at the set text. It was like a bolt of lightning struck you- love at first sight.
How did you get to the point of divorce? Your brain was racked with potential guesses as to where along the line you lost him. Were you not interesting enough? You wanted to get your career back on track but you assumed Spencer would prefer a stay-at-home wife. Is that where you went wrong? Perhaps some woman at work was more engaging, perhaps he had more mutual interests with her than his boring wife.
Pulling into the parking lot, you braced yourself to head for the entrance and find your soon-to-be ex-husband. Who would get the car in the divorce? He paid for it so you supposed the courts would award it to him.
“Oh God.” You muttered under your breath, head spinning as you waited inside for a hostess. If you went by that logic, you’d be left with nothing.
“Do you have a reservation?” The young worker hobbled over breathlessly.
“Uh- probably, under a Mr Reid.” You twiddled your thumbs as she searched her database.
“Oh, he’s already been seated, just down there.” She pointed in his direction and you saw the back of his head, luscious curls nestling around the base of his neck. You sighed, he was going to be a tough one to get over.
“Baby, there you are.” He rose from his seat to plant a quick kiss on your cheek and as always, pull out your chair. Where were you going to find someone as gentlemanly as him? “Are you okay?”
“Sure.” You managed a small smile though you were sure he saw right through it.
“I’ve already ordered us some wine, they had that white zinfandel you like.” He said, pouring you a glass.
“Trying to get me drunk, Reid?” You swirled the liquid around, inhaling the sweet aroma.
“From half a bottle?” He chuckled nervously, your mannerisms already causing suspicion. “No, I want you sober for tonight.”
“That’s unkind.” You muttered unintelligibly, knocking back your glass in one go.
“Woah, slow down.” He cautioned as you clinked your glass against the bottle, prompting him to hesitantly pour you another.
“You sure everything’s okay?”
“Yes, great. What did you need to talk to me about?” You braced yourself for impact.
“Okay, well, I know it would be a big change but just hear me out. I think in the long run, it’d be better for you if-“
“Actually, no. Everything’s not okay.” You slurred, the alcohol already impairing your senses.
“Oh? What’s the matter?” He asked anxiously, fidgeting with his wedding band.
“I want a divorce.” You blurted out tastelessly.
“You- what?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he blinked rapidly. “A divorce?”
“You heard me.” You gulped, trying your hardest to be stern even though you were about to fall apart. “You’ve run out of chances with me.”
“Baby, what? I-I know it’s been rocky but I thought we talked it through? You seemed just fine last night, I don’t understand.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised so high a painful-looking row of wrinkles stacked up on his forehead.
“I thought we were fine too, but I was wrong.” You took another glug of liquid courage as you avoided eye contact, knowing you would cave if you took even one glance at his big, round eyes.
“I know I don’t have much room to complain after what I’ve put you through but can’t we at least talk about it first?” He pleaded, heart jumping out of his chest.
“What is there to talk about, Spencer? You couldn’t come to me so you closed yourself off and found comfort in another woman- God knows how long this has been going on while I’ve been here pining after you like an idiot-“
“What?” He raised his hand, signalling you to pause your rambling.
“Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been cheating on me.” You scoffed, determined not to fall victim to his gaslighting.
“What the hell are you talking about?” His mournful expression was replaced by one of bewilderment.
“I heard you last night on the phone to her. Who is she?” You cocked your head, a little smug over the fact that you’d caught him- what kind of a genius calls his mistress while his wife’s next door?
To your surprise, Spencer broke out into a laugh, taking his head into his hands as he shook it in relief. “You got me, baby. You caught me.” He smiled dazedly.
“I did, so I don’t know why you’re smiling.” You scowled.
“You caught me talking to my therapist.” He shot you an unimpressed glare. “I started seeing her 2 weeks ago and I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t work out. I didn’t want you getting your hopes up. But Jesus, baby. Divorce? That’s where you landed?”
“It’s not just that!” You jumped to your own defence. “How do you explain all the late nights at work- and that conversation we had this morning about my career?”
“That’s what I was going to talk to you about today. I got you a job.” He stated.
“Huh? Why?” You gawked, hesitant to believe anything he said.
He took a deep breath, shuffling his chair a little closer and taking your hand.
“Look, baby, I know you try your hardest to be a great wife. Too hard, if anything, and you’ve always been exceptional and far too good for me. As much as I love your dedication, you need to think about your own needs and prioritise those for a change. It’s no secret that you’ve been feeling unfulfilled for a while now, I can see it from a mile away. I should’ve addressed it sooner but, well, you know.”
“Spence?” You shook your head in uncertainty, wondering how you could’ve been so wrong.
“I should’ve never let you give your career up. I should’ve pushed you harder but I just loved having you at home all the time, it’s selfish, I know. My job is stressful but it gives me a sense of purpose, one I know you crave.” He explained, trying not to giggle at your awestruck face and your inability to form a single sentence. “What I’m saying is, I want to see you reignite that old passion you had. How would you feel about joining me in the BAU?”
Nothing could’ve prepared you for his admission and tears of shock and immense relief began coursing down your face. “Spencer, I can’t believe this.”
“In hindsight, I should’ve talked to you about it first but I thought it might be a nice surprise- I’m an idiot, you don’t have to take it, of course, if you don’t want to.” He backtracked, suddenly aware of how flawed his plan was.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a very long time.” You uttered softly.
“R-really? You want to do it?” He raised his eyebrows in that adorably curious way of his.
“I don’t know how you managed to figure out I wanted a job before I did, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I want to do it.” You nodded, too consumed with excitement to mull over your embarrassingly wrong assumptions.
“Now, it’s only a low-level position for the time being, just to ease you into the transition but you have the potential to-“
“I’ll be with you.” You smiled simply.
“Yes, for the most part. I thought it’d be a good way to spend more time together- not including the times when I’d have to fly out and can’t take you with me yet, although-“
“Spencer.” You interrupted him. “Thank you.”
“Well, of course. Anything for you.” He squeezed your hands and you felt the anxiety throb away. “Can’t believe you thought I was cheating.”
“You gave me some major indicators!” You scrunched your face up awkwardly. “And my mother pointed out that-“
“Ah, there we go.” He sighed, unimpressed. “That woman has had it out for me for the better part of a decade.”
“Sorry, baby, you know she has a talent for burrowing inside my head.” You confessed shyly, aware you should’ve known better.
“I’m going to talk to her.” Spencer declared.
“Huh?”
“First thing tomorrow, we’re going to her house and I’m throwing it all out there. After a decade of pent-up resentment, it’s time.”
Spencer usually avoided your mother at all costs, electing to work overtime on weekends when she decided to visit and often coming down with mysterious ailments during the holidays that prevented him from attending her get-togethers.
“Can’t wait to see how that turns out.” You chuckled gleefully. “And therapy, baby? Wow. I’m so proud of you.”
“I was sceptical at first but I think it’s helping- I’m learning to compartmentalise the issues and most importantly, not take them out on you.” He stared into your eyes and your breath hitched; even after so many years, he had a way of making you feel impossibly shy.
“You sound like a new man, Mr Reid.” You teased, the wine floating around your bloodstream in a way that made you deliciously fuzzy.
“It’s all because of you, Mrs Reid.” A smirk tugged at his lips.
“So we’re really okay?” You asked in disbelief, immeasurably relieved that the rollercoaster seemed to be at an end. “What now?”
“I’ll tell you.” He drawled in a softly seductive tone. “We’re going to order dinner and dessert, I’m going to get you a little too drunk.” He dropped his hand to your thigh, trailing up it as he spoke. “And then I’m going to take you home and fuck you.”
“Oh.” You squeaked, breaking into tingles at the prospect.
“That sound good, doll?” He kneaded your inner thigh and you felt your body go numb as words failed you. “I thought so.”
Seeing that the bottle on your table was glisteningly empty, Spencer beckoned over a waiter.
“Give me your most expensive wine.” He smirked while ordering. “We’re celebrating.”
Although he was a law-abiding federal agent, Spencer ran more than a few red lights that evening given the ravenous way his wife stared at him from the passenger seat, crawling out of her skin with the desire to touch him. As soon as he pulled into the driveway, you were both in a desperate rush to get inside. You clawed at Spencer’s shirt while he shakily tried to unlock the door, trembling with anticipation.
“H-hang on, baby.” The sound of clinking keys mixed with his groans. “God…”
You left messy, wet kisses all down his neck as he finally pushed the door open, taking you into his arms and guiding you indoors.
“Right- mm, here.” You whined between kisses, gesturing at the sofa as you kicked your heels off.
“My desperate girl, can’t even wait long enough to get to the bedroom.” He teased as he pushed you down onto the couch, hooking onto the waistband of your tights with his bony fingers and slowly dragging them down your legs- leaving small kisses down your thighs and calves in the process.
You let out impatient whimpers as he folded your dress up over itself and dragged down your panties.
“Were these your ‘I’m a strong woman’ divorce panties?” He chuckled as he yanked the tiny lace garment off your feet and threw it behind him.
“I needed as much confidence as I could muster.” You pulled him closer by the tie for a heated kiss. “I was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“You could never lose me.” He stared into your eyes with a dizzying intensity that made all the blood rush to your heat. “You’re my wife…” He drawled huskily as he ripped the front panel of your dress open. “Until the day I die.” Looping his fingers around it, he tore the material further with a loud tug, leaving your bare tits bouncing out of the tight fabric. “You jump to conclusions like it’s a full-time job.” He pressed his lips against your hot skin. “But I love you.” You wanted to laugh but a moan escaped your lips instead when he wrapped his tongue around one nipple, grasping the other with a rough hand. “And my God, do you have the best tits I’ve ever seen.”
You raked your fingers through his thick, messy hair as you squirmed beneath him, sure that if he made you wait any longer you’d start crying.
“Patience, baby. You’ll get it.” He whispered, dragging his lips down your body and leaving goosebumps in his wake. He left sloppy, open-mouth kisses along your thighs, so near your heat you could feel his warm breath fanning it.
“P-please, Spence, please.” You muttered, bucking your hips to close the distance between you.
“You know I always give my girl what she wants.” He breathed heavily, snaking his arms around your shaky hips and tugging you closer to drag his tongue across your clit. You melted into the sofa as he sucked on your most sensitive spot, locking you into an unescapable vice with his strong arms.
“Mmh…” You threw your head back, still squirming as he ate you with such passion and hunger that you committed every godless detail to memory. His hair became increasingly dishevelled as you twisted it into messy knots, fidgeting with the curls as he licked broad stripes up your clit with fanatical force.
“Fuck, fuck…” You grew delirious as he sped up, legs trembling from how good he was making you feel; you desperately pressed yourself further against his mouth, wanting to be devoured until there was nothing left.
“Can-can I, please, can you- oh God.” You rambled nonsensically as he showed no sign of slowing down, worshipping you with his tongue until you felt like blacking out. He groaned in approval as he flitted across your wet slit aggressively, knowing it pushed you over the brink every time. It had been months since he’d had you wrapped around his neck like this, panting in that slutty way that drove him wild- and as much as he wanted to savour it, he couldn’t wait much longer to have you. As you pushed his head down, he sucked so sloppily that the sounds emanating were nothing short of pornographic.
“Spencer!” You moaned out sinfully while you came, gripping his shoulders with your thighs as you dissolved into a mushy, whiney mess. Your hips twitched as he pulled away from you, wiping the drool from his mouth with the sleeve of his collared shirt.
“No need to yell, I’m right here.” He grinned, deriving great pleasure from seeing you fall apart.
“Oh God, I’ve forgotten how good you are that.” You winced, trembling from the force of your release.
“I’ll make sure you never forget again.” He smirked into the kiss as he pressed his lips against yours, barely giving you any time to come to as he ripped off the remnants of your dress. “Sorry about that, doll- I’ll buy you a new one.”
“It was my divorce dress, I never would’ve worn it again.” You giggled as you helped him out of his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers, desperate to feel him inside you. Your back arched instinctively as soon as you felt the tip of his cock rubbing against your clit; your head rolled back as you felt him slide in teasingly slow, letting you feel every last inch as he spread you apart and scattered sensual kisses down your neck. An obscene moan left your lips when he buried himself as deep inside you as he could.
“Spence, fuck, I don’t know if- ah.” You struggled to get the words out as he stared down at you with amusement. “Too big, I-“
“A few months without my dick and you’ve forgotten how to take it?” He jeers, a twisted smile radiating from him. “That’s no good at all, baby. We’re gonna have to teach you all over again.”
You bit your lip to conceal the whimper that threatened to spill as you nodded obediently, hanging off his every word.
“Breathe.” He pulled out by just an inch or two, ensuring you would barely notice before slowly pushing his hips forward and plunging himself to the hilt.
His hair dangled over his forehead, the unruly locks almost tickling you as he hovered above you, waiting for you to adjust to his thick length.
“Mm…” You peeped, looking at him coyly like butter wouldn’t melt.
“Yeah?” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours before you nodded. With the thousands of times you’d made love, he knew the meaning of every subtle cue and whimper; he knew you were often too shy to speak so he let you get away with using your varying whines as a form of communication. His dirty talk overwhelmed you, leaving you flustered and speechless- and he knew just how much you loved it.
Spencer pulled out half his length this time, grabbing you by the jaw to hold you lovingly as he thrusted in and out, making sure to look you in the eyes as his swollen cock massaged your walls. Ever the shy one, you tried averting eye contact and looking away from his intense glare but he gently guided you back with a firm hand. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he made love to you, your twisted eyebrows and parted lips too sweet to ignore.
You cried out when his thrusts grew rougher, panting heavily as he fucked you even harder than you remembered.
“You can take it, baby.” He cooed as he fucked you deep and slow. “I know you can.” He pulled out almost all the way before plunging his cock back in, coated in glistening arousal. “Deep breaths for me, doll.” He breathed with you, setting a tempo as you struggled to get anything but your whorish moans out.
“You like it when I stretch this little pussy out?” He groaned, wet flesh and skin smacking against hip bone. “Yeah you do.” He smirked as your cheeks flushed red at his lewd words. “How were you going to go through with a divorce? You can’t even tell me you like the way I fuck you.”
“Spencer!” You gasped, partly at his vulgarity and partly at the way his tip just brushed against your deepest spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“What, baby?” His hands trailed their way down to your hips as he sat up, gripping the handles of your body tightly as he fucked you onto himself. “We both know you could never find someone who fucks you this good again. Who pounds into your cunt exactly the way you need it.” Your jaw dropped at his crude words- he’d always had a penchant for making you flustered but it was clear that prison had made him even rougher around the edges. As much as you wanted to knock him down a peg, you couldn’t deny the truth to what he’d said; there was no upgrading after Spencer.
“You’re cockier than I remember.” You manage to breathe out, glassy eyes watering with overstimulation.
“And you’re tighter than I remember.” He smirked maniacally as he started rubbing rough circles into your clit, not slowing down the way he was sorely pummelling into you. “Goddamn, angel, you take me so well.” He muttered under his breath as he observed the mouthwatering way in which your pussy swallowed his entire length, gushing with arousal as the wet smacking intensified.
He swooped down to kiss you, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth as he pushed your knees against your chest. “You feel that?” He shuddered, guiding your hand to your stomach where his member was poking through the flesh, leaving an imprint.
“Uh huh.” You panted.
“You like having my cock this deep in your guts?” In an unexpected move, he pressed down on your lower stomach as you nodded to his question desperately. You screamed in blinding ecstasy as you reached your peak, the borderline cruel way in which Spencer continued pounding against your sweet spot proving too much to take.
“Look at that, I got my answer.” He licked his lips at the sight of his cock glazed in creamy arousal as he pulled out with a groan. You lay motionless on the cushy sofa, limbs numb as you noticed the scowl Spencer was sporting on his chiselled face, small beads of sweat running down his temples.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled darkly.
“Resting?” You upturned your eyebrows sweetly.
Before you could protest, he dragged you down the sofa and turned you over, positioning you to arch your back and expose your throbbing pussy to him.
“You think I’m going to let you get away with one round?” He spanked your ass with a firm, open palm. “I know you’ve been whining about this all the time to your friends. I know how desperate you’ve been for your husband to fuck you. Well, honey- I’ll give you something to talk about.” Before you could respond, he guided his veiny cock into your squishy walls, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch as he pounded into you from the back.
“Is this what you wanted?” He demanded as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you up, holding your back flush against his body. “You wanted to be fucked like a whore? Answer me.”
“Yes! Yes, Spence, I want it so bad, treat me like a slut.” You surprised yourself with your sinful words, the rough treatment prompting you to act out of character. He pushed you back onto the bed, holding you down as he drilled into you with dizzying speed. The couch squeaked with the force of your face getting pressed into the pillows as you panted so breathily you thought your heart might give out. You bit into the cushions as drool seeped freely from your mouth and wet the dark grey fabric.
“Harder…” You murmured, barely audible.
“What was that?” Spencer asked in disbelief, slowing down a little to make your words out clearly.
“Harder. I want you to fuck me to within an inch of my life.” You confessed sultrily and a dangerous smirk crept across your husband’s face.
“Anything for you.” He was more than happy to comply with your request.
You spent all night tangled up in each other’s bodies, taking turns being mind numbingly rough and tooth achingly sweet. He whispered confessions of love in your ear one minute and he pinned you down hard enough to leave bruises the next. It was, without a doubt, the best night of your life.
Waking up the next day in Spencer’s arms gave you more euphoria than any drug ever could. He smelled of last night’s wine and sweat, intermingled with the floral detergent of your freshly washed sheets.
“Good morning, baby.” He cooed when he saw your eyes flutter open. “Or rather, good afternoon. How’d you sleep?”
“Never better.” Your husky voice replied. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while.”
“I guess I’ll have to carry you to your mother’s, then.” He chuckled, pulling you in closer so that your head rested on his smooth, bare chest.
“What? You’re not still serious about doing that.” You looked up at him pleadingly.
“Oh, yes I am.” He scolded playfully. “She convinced you I was having an affair and encouraged you to get a divorce. I’d say there’s a conversation to be had there.”
“You know, I really wish you weren’t so respectable sometimes.” You dreaded the prospect of such a confrontation.
“There was nothing respectable about the way I was splitting you open last night.” He countered mischeviously and you rolled your eyes to distract from the blush creeping over your cheeks. “Come on, I’ll buy us breakfast on the way. Get dressed.”
“But Spence!” You tried to argue but he had already climbed out of bed, humming showtunes on his way to the bathroom. With a hefty sigh, you swung your legs round the side of the bed and started searching for your underwear.
“Are you sure? It’s not too late to turn around.” You twiddled your thumbs standing outside your mother’s house, her near-black wooden door looming over you as you waited for her to answer.
“Yes. Stop being a wimp.” Spencer replied just before the door swung open.
“Oh. Hi darling.” She eyed you up before slowly turning her head. “Hello Spencer.”
“There’s my favourite mother-in-law. We thought we’d surprise you with breakfast.” He lifted the brown paper bag containing drive through diner food.
“As if I’d eat that.” She raised her eyebrows contemptously.
“Come on, mom, are you gonna let us in or not?” You piped up after seeing she had no intentions of making things easy for Spencer.
“Yes, fine, in you come.” She opened the door wide and stepped aside, letting you both enter her lavish home.
“Love what you’ve done with the place.” He commented a little snarkily, noticing the extensive remodeling work that had been done.
“Oh yes, we did it last spring. I suppose you haven’t been round for years so you wouldn’t know. Are you avoiding me, Spencer?” She took a seat across from you both in the living room.
“Me? Never. Just like you’d never convince my wife to get a divorce, right?” He quipped and your stomach twisted over how little it took them to start arguing- you’d only just walked in through the door.
“I’ve only ever advocated for what’s best for her.” She stuck her nose up at her son-in-law.
“And why are you so certain that’s not me?” He snapped, genuine curiousity tinging his voice.
“You’re not good enough.” She replied with a resoluteness that must’ve hurt.
“Why, mom? What’s so bad about Spence?” You asked.
“He’s just not who you were supposed to end up with. You were not meant to give up your life to be a housewife to a mediocre man.” She answered simply, like she didn’t even have to think about it.
“So you resent him because of my career choices?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little as she shrugged. “Mother, I chose to leave the field. He had nothing to do with it, he supported me-“
“Oh, I bet he did. Having a woman at home to cook and clean must’ve been too tempting of an offer to pass up.” She scratched at her right arm- a leftover habit from the nicotine patches she used years ago. She claimed she quit smoking but you suspected she’d be in dire need of a cigarette after this conversation.
“That’s ridiculous-“
“She’s right.” Spencer interrupted you. “I was more than happy to have you at home. I preferred it, really. And I didn’t say a word even though I knew you were making a mistake, even though I knew it wouldn’t make you happy.”
“See. The pipe cleaner admits it.” She scoffed and you shot her a venomous glare. “Not to mention what you’ve put her through this year.”
“I know I haven’t by any means been a good husband, but I wouldn’t cheat and I’d never want a divorce. I’m trying to make things right.” He confessed earnestly.
“How?” She scowled, clearly believing him to be beyond redemption.
“He got me a job at the BAU.” You chimed in, wanting to see the smugness wiped off her face.
“And I’m seeing a therapist.” Spencer continued. “I’m determined to be better.”
She sat there in silence, incapable as always of expressing any remorse.
“I love your daughter and I’m not going anywhere. I’d like it very much if we could somehow start over.” He shot her those puppy dog eyes of his and you sincerely believed if she didn’t give in, she must be the only woman in the world immune to his charms.
“Alright. Alright, Spencer.” She sighed after a short contemplation. “If my little girl is happy, I suppose I have no choice.”
“The bastard actually managed it.” You thought as you witnessed his beaming smile flood the room with light, his vibrancy so infectious you knew even your mother noticed.
“Glad to hear it, mom.” He joked and she choked on the water she had begun to sip.
“Don’t push it.”
“Told you it’d all work out.” He said excitedly while he opened the car door for you, practically skipping out of your mother’s house.
“I know, and she actually invited you round?!” You shook your head in disbelief as he started the engine and drove away from her gated residence.
“Maybe we’ll make these trips a weekly habit.” He suggested, resting his hand soundly on your thigh.
“Not every week. I need some alone with my handsome husband.” You gushed, admiring his perfect side profile.
“You must have me confused with someone else, lady.” He chuckled as he switched on the radio. “Oh my God, baby! This song!”
“No way, I haven’t heard this since, since-“
“That time in college.” He winked at you and you threw your head back in laughter, precious memories flooding your mind as the familiar pop tune hummed on.
“Yeah. That was the first and last time we ever do it on a carnival pedal boat.”
“Hey, never say never- I see a lake right over there.” He pointed out the window as you drove by.
“I don’t think so, buddy.” You slapped his arm playfully. “Those days are behind us, we’re old and boring now.”
“If this is boredom, sign me up for eternity.” A warm smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“God, I love you, Spencer Reid.”
“I love you even more, Mrs Reid.”
#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#matthew gray gubler
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old habits (die hard) ❀ cl16
in which charles charles has a knack for fucking things up, and you have a talent for slowly letting him back in
find part one here.
contains: social media au, ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader, angsty charles and yn living her best life, toxic relationships maybe, mentions of new partners, charles is a confusing man, charles is a jealous asshole
note: i don’t think this is the final part lmao it’s kinda left of a cliff (if u saw me repost no u didn’t)
your phone 📞
charlie
hey
i miss you
a lot
read, 11:23 pm.
charlie
please don’t be like that y/n
i’m serious
you
charles you literally have a girlfriend
charlie
she’s not my girlfriend
you
do you think i’m stupid? like actually
charlie
no
but she really isn’t, we’re just talking
and hanging out i guess
you
oh my god
charlie
love, you know i miss you
you
yes, because finding another girl right after saying you only want to focus on racing sends me such a great message
you’re confusing as hell
charlie
i know, i really messed up.
i shouldn’t have broken up with you in the first place
but the season was getting so intense and i really want this championship, i thought it would be better for us to put it on pause to save us both the trouble
you
so what’s so different about her that makes her an exception?
charles
alex is easy for me
you
so i’m difficult?
charles
that’s not what i mean
you
no it is what you mean
i’m difficult for showing up to your races and being there when you need me
or when i’m there for you when you dnf? or when ferrari fucks up your strategy?
i was willing to stay friends with you after i did all that and you still broke up with me because i had hopes we would make it work and get back together
charlie
i do want to get back together
you
no you don’t
you moved on so quickly like i was nothing
charlie
you also got with someone too
you
because i didn’t want to look like an idiot seeing all the news after telling my friends i had hope
charlie
yeah but posting him in your bed??
you
so you’re just saying all of this because of that guy i posted?
wtf is your deal charles
fuck you
❀ instagram ❀
liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, alexalbon, and 70,331others
yourinstagram larger than life (in madrid)
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lilymhe oh my god
lilymhe you scandalous girl
yourinstagram oops?
landonorris he better watch his hands
yourinstagram he said “fuck off”
landonorris i’ll punch him in his face
carlossainz55 mariposa 🦋
yourinstagram 🥺
user are these two dating???
4zaferrari no they’re just friends, this is someone else
kikagomes sexy sexy pair 💋
yourinstagram you’re sexier bebe
pierregasly get away from my girlfriend
yourinstagram get off my page maybe?
alexalbon show me the man
yourinstagram no you’ll just steal him
user loved watching your vlog the other day
liked by yourinstagram
user seeing yn happy is so great but i can’t be the only one missing her and charles right??
user where are you going next omg!!
yourinstagram no idea!!
lando.jpg updated their story 1 hour ago
seen by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1 million others
yourinstagram replied to this story: i did not give permission for you to post this young man!
❀ twitter ❀
your phone 📞
charlie
you put him in your vlog? and you’re still posting him?
are you dating
y/n
are we seriously doing this right now
why are you stalking me
charlie
i’m not stalking you, i just care
fuck just answer the question please
y/n
i’m barely posting him, his face wasn’t in it
and no, we’re just seeing each other right now. yk summer flings i guess
charlie
you know it hurts me to see this y/n, please love
y/n
i don’t care, we’re not together anymore
you texting me is hurting everyone, your “friend” included
charlie
she knows we’re not dating
please just come back to monaco y/n
we can talk face to face
can i call you right now?
you
i’m with carlos and lando
charlie
are you also with that guy
you
yeah
charlie
will you finally tell me who he is?
you
does it really matter?
let’s just talk when i’m back in monaco please
and let me enjoy my vacation in peace
charlie
when are you back?
you
i’ll let you know
charlie
okay
i love you
you
yeah
love you too
❀ instagram ❀
yourinstagram updated their story 10 mins ago
❀ twitter ❀
tags: @1655clean @i-wish-this-was-me @sunny44 @leclercdream
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc social media au#f1 x black!reader
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Cinnabon
Summary: (mall rats 7, final part!) Joel ruins a special moment, leading to another stupid argument, leading to him fucking the daylights out of you on his couch. Lovingly.
Tags: AU where yeast is not dead and we can all bake and be happy. Cordyceps is no longer in the flour/sugar either (work with me) Cinnabons, 69, dirty talk, unprotected Piv, creampie because it’s me, strang3lov3. soft dom joel because again, it’s me, strang3lov3. Strange highs and strange lows, that’s how my love goes. You get it.
A/N: As always, thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️ you’ve helped me so much on this series and you have no clue how thankful I am for that. Definitely abusing your talents for the next shit I wanna write! And thank you to everyone who’s read and reblogged, commented, all of that good stuff. This was a blast to write!!!
This may not be the absolute end of these two, so you might get an update on them here and there, most likely in the form of yet another lovers quarrel. But I have so much stuff planned and I hope you continue to keep up with me ❤️ excited for the new year and to share what else i've been writing with all of you 🩷
It’s early in the morning in late December when you’re walking up to Joel’s porch, holding a basket full of ingredients and a dusty copy of Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. You knock on the door, no answer. With Joel’s poor hearing, sometimes it’s better to knock on his back door. He seems to hear it better, closer to his bedroom and all that. You make your way to his back door, where you find Ellie quietly opening the window next to the door, no doubt sneaking back from a friend’s house. You startle each other, “Ellie, hi,” you say. You wrinkle your nose, she smells like weed. You can’t help but smirk.
“Oh,” she says, “Hi. I’m not– I’m just–”
“I won’t tell Joel,” you smile. Ellie’s staring at your basket of goodies, where one of your lacy Victoria’s Secret thongs sits on top of a blue Cinnabon apron. “I’m just…baking. For Joel. Are you gonna be home today?”
It’s Ellie’s turn to smirk at you, as she opens the window the rest of the way and lifts herself inside the house. You hear her heavy footsteps before she unlocks and opens the door for you. “I can disappear,” she replies, “I require payment, though.”
“I’ll leave you a plate outside your door.”
“Deal.”
Ellie goes to her room probably to change clothes, and you go toward Joel’s kitchen. “I want two of whatever you’re making,” Ellie calls out before slamming the back door again, probably going back to her friend’s house. That girl certainly knows how to negotiate. You can’t help but love her for it.
Joel usually wakes up early, but he’s not on his recliner where you expect him to be. Must be in bed. You smile to yourself, picturing Joel coming downstairs in his pajamas, hair messy and sighing in pleasure at the sweet aroma of butter and cinnamon.
You’re making Cinnabons this morning. Well, cinnamon rolls, as Betty Crocker puts it. When you and Joel were in the Barnes and Noble at the mall picking up books for Jackson’s library, you had stumbled across Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. Flipping through the pages, you found a recipe for cinnamon rolls and thought back to that first time in the mall with Joel, where he explained what a Cinnabon was, and then lied about his sweet tooth.
There were loads of recipes, many interesting pictures too. You brought the book to Joel and pointed at a picture of some odd, translucent dome-shaped food item. He told you it was called Jell-O, and that no one misses it. You wanted to take the cookbook back with you, but there wasn’t room in the duffel bag. And you couldn’t bear to rip out a single page for one recipe. That would just be cruel.
At the end of the day, you went back to Tommy’s office with Joel. Joel usually walks you home, but he didn’t that day. Said he was running late for game night with Ellie, so he took off quickly. Tommy told you he’d walk you home, though.
As you and Tommy went through some of the books, he heard you sigh disappointedly, “What’s gotcha down, hon?”
“There was this book I wanted, but we didn’t have room.”
“What book?”
“Cookbook,” you replied, “I wanted to make a recipe for Joel.”
“Ah,” Tommy murmured, flipping through the pages of an old picture book, “Which recipe?”
“Cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh man,” Tommy groaned. He checked his watch, then looked at you with a light in his eyes.
“I’ll take you back there right now to get that book.”
“You’d do that?”, you asked.
“For you, of course. But I got my motives. Ya gotta hook me up with some of those rolls.”
There are few things that make you feel as loved and appreciated as when Tommy’s eating your food, showering you in the sweetest compliments and praises. No problem, you’d gladly share your baking with him. So Tommy took you back to the mall. You led him to the bookstore, picked up your book and went on your merry way. Tommy still hadn’t gotten to check the mall out for himself, though. So he wandered through the same areas you did, through the food court you and Joel picked through all that time ago. At the Cinnabon stand, he tossed you a blue apron with the word ‘Cinnabon’ embroidered at the chest. “Bet ya could make Joel turn bright red with this.”
You picked up what he was putting down immediately. And, thinking about it, you had a lacy thong that would match the apron perfectly. You remembered the blush on Joel’s cheeks as you tried on lingerie at Victoria’s Secret, how he mumbled something about lingerie being a waste of time before fucking you in the dressing room, still wearing your pretty pink chiffon babydoll. You wondered if faced with a big, gooey cinnamon roll sitting in front of him, and you in nothing but an apron and a thong, he’d still lie about that sweet tooth of his and his disdain for lingerie. Cause for an experiment.
–
In Joel’s kitchen, you prepare the recipe. You prepped the dough last night, giving it plenty of time to rise. All you have to do this morning is prepare the cinnamon-sugar mixture and the icing. Oh, and put on that apron and thong. Not too hard.
Once the rolls are assembled in the pan, you put them in Joel’s oven and change into your little outfit, feeling a little breeze on your bare ass. Good thing Ellie’s gone. As you’re waiting for the rolls to bake, you lean over Joel’s kitchen table and flip through the pages of your cookbook. The Jell-O still has you perplexed.
Some time goes by. You’re reading about the Jell-O, how Betty Crocker said that it was great for parties and baby showers and other things like that. The slam of the glass door behind you startles you. You whip around, and there’s Joel with bright red cheeks, looking shocked and horrified. Through the glass door, you see Tommy in Joel’s yard. He waves at you, smiling. You wave back.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel grumbles, quickly pulling the blinds over the glass door to protect your modesty, “You gonna explain why you’re bare assed in my kitchen?”
“I thought you were sleeping,” you reply.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he grumbles, as the egg timer you set prior goes off with a ding. You open the oven and pull out the cinnamon rolls with a pair of potholders, giving Joel a perfect view of your entire ass. “Oh my god,” he groans. When you turn around, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, always so dramatic. You reach for the Pyrex measuring bowl full of icing you prepared and begin drizzling it over the warm cinnamon rolls. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You’re somethin’ else, you know that? I never know what–”, Joel stops speaking, and you look back at him once more. He’s intrigued, eyes wide. The pastry has pulled his attention away from your nearly-bare body. “Those uh– those cinnamon rolls?”
“Cinnabons,” you correct him, pointing to the embroidered logo on your chest, “But yeah– cinnamon rolls.”
“Right,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. He reaches into one of his drawers for a fork and pushes you out of the way.
“Joel,” you complain as he steals a bite of the cinnamon rolls, right out of the pan. He blows on it first, careful not to burn his tongue. When he tastes the pastry, his eyes flutter shut. He moans softly. “You said once that you missed Cinnabons,” you explain, speaking softly. Joel reaches for another bite, right out of the pan.
“Mhm,” he mumbles, mouth full of dessert.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Cinnabon’s better,” he answers plainly.
Your face drops. “What?”
“Yeah this–”, he takes another bite, “S’no good at all.”
He’s fucking with you. Probably gonna say something dumb like how you should give him the pan, let him dispose of those no good cinnamon rolls for you. “Dick,” you punch his arm for scaring you like that. He doesn’t mind.
“You made these for me?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly, “For you.”
“For me,” he repeats, a soft smile on his face. You’re kind of baffled at his mood change, but you know what they say about men and food; the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, all that stuff. He steps closer to you, backing you against the countertop and turning off his oven, still wearing that smile, like he knows something you don’t.
“But I owe Tommy and Ellie one, too,” you continue, voice a little shaky. You’re nervous, why is he making you nervous? Joel sets his fork down and stares at you, lovingly, tenderly. “I made two batches before this, fucked both of those up. And then I ran out of sugar, actually. Tommy had to steal me some more.”
“I love you.”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks. He says it plainly, no frills. Just out with it.
“You do?”
“Mhm,” he hums, “I do. Still would like an answer as to why you’re half-naked, though.”
Your face heats up. What were you saying? The cinnamon rolls, right.
“I was– I don’t know. I had to knead the rolls by hand. The recipe said a stand mixer would be easier, but I didn’t…”, you trail off, feeling a little fuzzy, like you can’t think straight, your train of thought slipping away from you, “Didn’t have one. I love you too, actually.”
“I know,” he replies softly. He never doubted it for a second. Lord, he’s so handsome. His eyes sparkle more than usual, his fluffy curls untamed. The flannel he’s wearing suits him perfectly, and you can’t help but stare, stammering quietly. He reaches for your face with one hand, wrapping the other around your waist and pulling you close to his body, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
Oh, fuck. You squirm out from his hold, away from the counter he held you against. Joel looks absolutely baffled as you smile sheepishly. “Can you grab me a plate for the Cinnabons?”, you ask, “I need to leave one by Ellie’s door.”
“I’d like to kiss you first, if you don’t mind,” he says, walking towards you. You keep walking backwards, around the kitchen table. Joel follows you as you look through his drawers for a spatula, opening and closing cabinets with shaky hands as you try to find a plate. Where are his fucking plates? Joel reaches for your hand to stop you. “Will you let me kiss you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
Joel’s missing something here. Has to be. You love Joel. Joel loves you. That’s been established, just like, two minutes ago. And you’ve been intimate with him many times before. The next logical step in this series of very out of order steps would be to kiss you. Unless…“Are you nervous?”, he asks.
“About what?”, you ask, “Kissing?”
“No, underwater basket weaving. Yes, kissing,” he sighs, “You seem nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” you lie, “I’d just like to be the one to do it first.”
“Oh,” Joel replies, still a little confused, “Yeah, naturally. Makes sense.” He takes you by the hand and leads you to his living room, sits you on the couch and takes his place next to you. “Lay it on me, then.”
“I can’t just–”
“You can,” he interrupts, coaxing you gently, “Come closer.” You scoot closer, but it’s not enough for Joel. Still wearing nothing but a thong and an apron, he lifts you by your ass and places you on his lap. Joel wears an expectant look on his face as you adjust yourself on his lap, feeling so awkward and out of your element. You’ve kissed people before, this should be no big deal. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous with Joel, especially when you’ve done everything else with him.
“Joel, I– I don’t know where to put my hands.”
“Right here,” he whispers, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Or here,” he moves your hands to his jaw, his patchy beard prickly under your fingertips. “Wherever you want.”
“I like your shoulders,” you whisper, dropping your hands back to his shoulders. One of your hands slides to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls.
“S’good,” he says. And oh, his eyes. Brown and so warm, inviting, so beautiful.
“Close your eyes,” you demand, intimidated by his stare. “Sorry. Close your eyes,” you repeat, softer.
“My bad,” Joel replies, his eyes now shut. You’ve never noticed how pretty his lashes are before now. They’re gorgeous, so long. “They’re closed now.”
“Okay,” you breathe.
“You got it,” he encourages.
God, this is daunting. You close your eyes, lean forward…and smooch him right on the cheek. There. Easy.
“Doesn’t count,” Joel murmurs through a smile, eyes still closed. Fuck. You adjust yourself on his lap, lean forward and…nothing. Joel waits. And waits. And waits.
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you say, trying to will yourself to just do it.
“Okay, sweetheart. You got it,” he whispers. But you don’t kiss him yet, and Joel keeps waiting, feeling himself beginning to grow hard as you keep squirming on his lap, adjusting yourself some more. “Hon?”
“Yeah?”
“Any minute, now.”
“I know,” you say, “I’m gonna kiss you.” But you adjust again. A minute passes with you on Joel’s lap as he waits patiently for you to finally kiss him. Another minute. And then you lean forward and – nothing.
“I’m gonna count down from three, and then you’ll kiss me. How about that?”
Yeah, sounds like a plan.
“Okay,” you reply.
“Three…two…”, Joel counts, and you prepare once more to kiss him, “One,” Nothing. Joel sighs, “You’re killin’ me here.”
“I was about to do it, Joel.”
“Uh huh.”
“I was,” you argue, “You just keep talking and–”
“Oh, you’re so full of shit. You’re the one doin’ most of the talkin’, like usual.”
“That’s not true,” you argue, but are interrupted when he opens his eyes. That’s not supposed to happen. He wears a mischievous grin as he sits up and his hands begin to slide up your sides. Your already pounding heart begins to beat even harder, faster, because Jesus Christ, he seems like he’s about to kiss you. “What are you doing?”
“Ya got three more seconds to kiss me. Three…”
“Joel, not funny,” you scold as he takes your face in his hands.
“Two…”
You’re beginning to panic, “Joel–”
And then he fucking kisses you, the bastard! No tongue, just a sweet, gentle peck. It’s despicable. You shove him back on the couch and glare at him, “You kissed me!”
“How awful,” Joel says with mock sympathy before he leans forward and kisses you again. You shove him again, harder.
“You asshole. I was gonna do it.”
“No, you weren’t,” he replies plainly. He tries to kiss you again, but you keep your hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the couch cushion. Joel’s smirking, but you’re scowling.
“Yes, I was.”
“Okay,” Joel laughs, “We can redo it, then.”
You sigh, “No, Joel, we cannot redo it. You already ruined it.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“Shit. S’too bad,” Joel feigns a sympathetic pout as he wraps both hands around your wrists that pin his shoulders, removing them from his body. He pushes your hands behind your back, holding them tightly as he kisses you again. And again, this time a little longer. Your lips begin to slide against his, and…god, they’re soft. The bastard.
“You’re ruining–”
“For the love of god, you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts,” Joel mumbles against your lips.
“I was supposed to–”
“No. You had your turn. We’re doin’ it my way now,” Joel says, “That means,” he kisses you, “M’gonna kiss you,” another kiss, “And fuck you,” another kiss, “As I please, because I love you,” he whispers. He kisses you before he maneuvers you to lay across the couch cushions, now pinning your wrists above your head under just one of his hands “And you can’t do a thing about it. Got it?”
“I–”
He doesn’t let you argue further. Always so stubborn, you. “Good girl. Yeah, you got it,” Joel kisses you again. It’s different this time. Deeper, hungrier, messier. So much tension, time spent dancing around feelings, and it’s all out there now. His tongue slides past your lips and he tastes like cinnamon and sugar. You’ve been depriving yourself of him for too long. “And after all this, I’m gonna eat some of them cinnabons you made. And I won’t share, either.”
With his free hand, Joel unzips his pants to free his cock. “You know what you do to me, trouble?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that squirmin’ ya did instead of kissin’ me,” Joel lifts the bottom of your apron up, exposing yourself to him, already dripping wet as he pulls off your soaked thong. You could have expected the ensemble wouldn’t have lasted long. And how are you already wet? One second you’re arguing about a stupid kiss and the next, he’s got you pinned beneath him and you’re dripping. You gasp as Joel gathers your slick with his fingers before stroking his cock, dipping his head back down to kiss you. He kisses your lips sloppily, then your cheek and down your jaw, your neck, nipping at the skin and soothing the marks with his tongue. It feels hot and passionate, and loving and dirty; all the best things at once.
“Oh, god,” you moan as he kisses further down your body, still stroking his cock. He pauses momentarily to pull the strap of the apron over your head, then lifting your ass to untie the apron in the back. He pulls the fabric away from you quickly, tossing it on the floor. He kisses your chest, dividing his attention equally between your breasts. Pinching, twisting one nipple, kissing and licking the other, then switching. He leaves them wet with his spit as he kisses down your body, stopping before he reaches your pussy. “Joel,” you whine, “Please– need your mouth on me.”
“Oh, convenient. Now you want my mouth,” he breathes, teasing you.
“Please, I need it, need you,” you beg.
“Wouldn’t ya know it, I need your mouth too.”
“So? Me first.”
“God, you’re a brat. Nice try,” Joel pulls away from your body, taking off his clothes quickly, “Said we’re doin’ things my way. Tryin’ somethin’ new today. Scoot,” he motions for you to move to the side. “On all fours, now. Come on, up,” you scoot to the side where Joel tells you to, slightly confused as you take the position. Joel takes his place next to you, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to his face. “Sit,” he tells you.
“Joel,” you begin to protest. Surely he doesn’t want you to actually sit on his face, right?
“You trust me.” It’s not a question. He knows you trust him, he knows you know he’ll take care of you. Of course he will. His voice is firm, confident, “I need you to sit,” as he pulls your center to his mouth, wasting no time in pressing kisses into your folds, slick and sticky with your growing arousal. Your breasts are pressed against his soft stomach, hands gripping his meaty thighs. Freeing an arm from its place at your hip, Joel wraps his hand around his cock, rock hard with a swollen blushed tip. He uses his other hand to reach for your head, pushing your face towards his member. “Take me in your mouth,” he says. “See? We’re compromising. S’what people in love do.” What an asshole.
Wrapping a hand around his thick cock, you guide his tip to your mouth, pressing wet kisses against the smooth skin. He tastes like he always does, familiar and masculine, salty and sweaty, as you trace over his swollen veins with your tongue. Joel groans against your cunt as he parts your lips, your tongue still painting delicate swirls on his skin.
“Yeah, attagirl,” he praises in a raspy voice, “Best of both worlds, ain’t it?” Joel laps at your cunt, moaning softly at the way you taste, your arousal almost as sweet and delicious as your cinnamon rolls from earlier. He keeps you held firm against his face as he licks you, alternating between drawing firm lines with the tip of his tongue and fat stripes with his tongue flattened.
“Mmmm,” you moan, voice muffled by his cock. You’ve got him as deep as you can take him, your nose nudging his balls slightly as you cup them gently in your hand. Joel surprises you when he dips his tongue into your pussy, tasting every bit of your pussy. You stop what you’re doing, the only thing your mind can focus on is the feeling of his tongue working magic inside you.
He swats your hip, “Know it feels good, but it goes both ways, sweetheart.”
“Please, Joel,” you beg.
“You know the rules,” he says, “You stop, I stop. Keep goin’, you’re suckin’ my cock so good, sweetheart. So good. Always do, you know that?” You begin to bob your head on his cock once more, Joel rewarding you with wet, sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your pussy. It takes everything you have to focus on his pleasure when he attaches his lips to your clit, sucking gently on the sensitive spot and humming against you. It’s not long before that familiar feeling begins to build in your stomach, your first orgasm washing over you.
You gasp for air, “Oh my god, Joel,” as he works you through your climax. Joel never lets up, not once. He keeps sucking, licking your clit, his facial hair tickling your skin and only adding to the overwhelming sensation. Once more, your peak begins to build. “I’m– fuck, I’m gonna come again.”
“S’the fuckin’ point, my love,” Joel mumbles quietly, and you can feel his smirk. Despite the rules, you’re not even sucking his cock anymore, your face instead resting on his body, haphazardly stroking his length as pleasure erupts from your core. You’re a moaning mess, pussy dripping and soaking Joel’s face.
Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath. Underneath you, he places one last kiss right on your clit before he gently slides himself out from your body. You’re hardly coherent as he meets you once more, this time his face inches above yours, caging you in his arms. His cock bounces between your legs and he leans down to kiss you again. His lips are wet and you can taste your arousal on his tongue. “Look at that, I stole another one,” he taunts.
“You’re a dick,” you breathe against his mouth, your body betraying you as you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips.
“Yeah, yeah,” and in one swift motion, Joel lines himself up with your entrance and pushes into you. He kisses you again, swallowing your gasp as he parts your insides, letting you feel every inch of him. God, he feels good. You’ll never tire of that stretch, that delicious feeling of being completely full of him.
“Oh, Joel,” you moan. He pulls out slowly, then slides back in at a harsher pace, grunting when he bottoms out inside of you. He takes both of your hands in his own, pinning them above your head as he rocks his hips. It’s tender yet dominant, just how everything is with Joel. Just how you like him.
“Love this pussy,” he purrs, “An’ I love you so much,” as he fucks you deeply, intensely. You whimper through his thrusts, each stroke fluid and firm and intentional. He knows your body like his own. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. You always do.”
You writhe underneath him, relishing in the pleasure he gives you. His name and sweet whisperings of love are all you can speak, each word coming out in soft, broken cries. The wet, sticky noises of your pussy fill the room, along with your moans and Joel’s grunting, groaning, and heaving breaths. You tilt your head to the side, arms still pinned beneath Joel’s hands. You kiss his wrists and bite his skin there gently.
“Come with me, baby,” he coos, adjusting the angle and finding that sweet spot inside you, that spot he knows and loves. He lets go of your arms, one of his big, masculine hands now on your waist, the other thumbing your clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart.”
It’s all it takes. His words send you over the edge, your pussy squeezing him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. “Fuck, Joel,” you whimper as he fucks you through your orgasm. You wrap your legs around his body, the heels of your feet bouncing against his ass, simultaneously pulling him into a tight embrace with your now free arms. Everything about this moment with Joel is perfect, the way he smells, his hot skin, how close and safe you feel with him. It sends Joel over the edge, too. With your name on his lips, your cunt gushing and pulsing around his cock, he spills inside you, painting ribbons of himself deep inside you as he helps you ride out your own climax as long as he can.
He pulls out of you with a soft groan. He cleans you quickly with his t-shirt, a warm smile on his lips. He kisses your forehead, then sits back against the couch, catching his breath. You sit up too, and Joel holds out his arm as an invitation for you to curl into his side. Your head resting on his shoulder, you stare at him. All of his beautiful features, warm brown eyes, his smile lines, his aquiline nose. And then, you do it. You kiss him. Long and deep, passionate. Hours could be passing, you don’t know.
Joel breaks the kiss. He pulls away from you, no longer smiling warmly. Instead, he wears his teasing grin. “Finally,” he smirks. He holds up his hand for a high five. Fucker. You roll your eyes, lifting yourself off the couch and buttoning Joel’s flannel over yourself. You make your way to the kitchen, finding a plate and placing two cinnamon rolls on them. You reach for an old pencil that sits on the window sill, scribbling ‘Ellie’ on a piece of nearby scratch paper and leaving it next to the plate. A deal is a deal, after all.
“Don’t leave me hangin’, now,” Joel calls out to you from the living room. You turn around and he’s waving his hand, nagging you about his abandoned high five.
You flip him off. Asshole.
#strang3lov3#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller#strang3lov3 recs#the last of us#pedro pascal#the last of us hbo#pedro pascal joel miller#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal characters#mall rats!joel#mall rats joel#mall rats
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“Would you want to be buried with your family, Si?”
Simon looks over at Johnny, eyebrows raised at his lovers random interjection. He gives him a once over, eyes narrowing a little bit, trying to find what could have possibly brought that question on. Finding nothing, Simon turns back to his book.
Johnny watches him scan a few lines before replying. “Can’t.”
Johnny’s brows furrow. “Why not?”
“They thought I was dead,” he replies simply, almost absentmindedly as he flips a page. Johnny’s confusion only grows until,
“Washington got your spot,” he says with dawning horror.
Simon says nothing, just humming an assertion. Johnny finds himself in a position he is in far, far too often as Simon’s closest confidant- utterly horrified, while Simon shrugs, already having worked through it with a therapist years ago, and numb to the sheer tragedy.
Simon turns another page, and Johnny breathes through the instinct to start screaming. A man who betrayed him, tortured him, and killed his entire family. Buried in his families plot, where Simon deserves to be someday. Where Simon was supposed to be able to fucking rest, someday.
Eventually, when he’s more in control, Johnny opens his mouth again, and it only comes out a little bit grated.
“So if you die, what would you like?”
Simon snorts at the ‘if’, and finally looks back at Johnny, considering him.
“What do you want?” Simon asks simply.
Johnny just looks at him for a second. Blinks, licks his lips. Opens his mouth to tell the truth, but pussies out at the last second.
He cracks a smile, but Simon can see the way it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Ah, I dunno. Just curious.”
Ghost considers the obviously bullshit answer, but decides to allow the out, turning back to his book. They lapse into a comfortable silence, Johnny going through his gear for their mission tomorrow, Simon flipping through his novel.
“What made you ask, anyways?”
Johnny stops in his movements, and looks over to Simon. The room is technically his, as the commanding officer, but it's strewn with evidence of Johnny’s place in his life. Clothes, notebooks, weapons. His shave kit in Simon’s bathroom, cause the lighting is better, and because its pretty nice to have Simon walk up behind him with a soft touch to his back while he cuts his hair, making sure he hasn't missed anything and leaving him with a kiss pressed to his shoulder.
"I'm thinking about retiring," he blurts out.
Simon looks over, and blinks.
"And…and I want my ashes scattered in the highlands. Unless you want to be buried next to me," he says, feeling out of breath at his confession. "That would…that would be good too,” he near-whispers.
Simon puts down his book.
“But if you wanted to be with you family, I could probably rob the grave and get Washington out of there, and put you back in. I’ve done crazier stuff.”
Simon’s mouth curls just a bit. “Come here, Johnny.”
He hesitates, for just a moment, feeling raw and vulnerable. But Simon pats his thigh, and Johnny could never resist that call. Curling up on Simon’s lap, he hides his nose in his neck, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders of his best friend, his lover.
Simon embraced him back, pulling him close against his chest. They stay there for a moment, tension slowly draining from Johnny, and eventually Simon whispers.
“I’ve had it in my will that burial rights go to you for a year already. And as for retirement…”
He pulls back, and Johnny does to, looking into his warm eyes, shockingly open in this moment.
“You let me know when, and I’ll follow.”
#AND THEN THEY DO THAT AND DIE OLD AND CONTENT IN THE CONTRYSIDE AND THEIR FRIENDS AND FAMILY SCATTER THEIR ASHES IN THE HIGHLANDS TOGETHER#soap mwii#cod mwii#soapghost#ghostsoap#cod mw2#ghoap#simon ghost riley#tf141#john soap mactavish#codmw2#mywriting
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The Company
Peeping Tom
Smut and Story Building (Blackmail, Deep Penetration, Defloration, Creampie, Rough Sex, First Time, Choking, Light BDSM, objectification)
Chapter 6
3,585 Words
(You encounter a peeping Tom as you have fun with one of your assistants. She tries to use her newfound information against you, but instead, you end up using her. By the end, you found yourself a new toy to play with.)
You return to your office with IU after a business meeting outside the company. The two of you talk about what just occurred during the last few days and how busy it’s going to get moving forward.
“How does it feel receiving your first private jet, sir?”
“I’m excited; I remember riding on my father’s jet when I was younger and always wanted one of my own. Now I just need to get it customized, and I’ll be able to use it.”
“Before that, we need to hire a flight attendant.”
“That’s true.”
“What about asking your father for one of his?”
“No, I'd rather get someone that has nothing to do with my father. I don’t want them to tell him anything about my business.”
“I’ll try to put a post online to hire an assistant.”
“Sounds good.”
“Any requirements?”
“Someone not too old, eye candy. You know my tastes.”
“Okay, I’ll try my best.”
“Also, any news on Big Hit and JYP?”
“I’ve heard that they are suffering a bit money-wise, so I think they are going to accept your offer.”
“Let’s see what they say. I don’t want to buy them outright, but I do want to hold a good chunk of shares, especially Big Hit. Bang Si-Hyuk seems like a pretty cool guy. He gave me a tour of his small building and even introduced me to his debuting group a while back. I really want to help the guy.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy with anything you give him, sir.”
“Let’s see how it goes.”
IU then hands you some documents and says, “This is some information I found out about JYP Entertainment. If you look at the third page, you can see that JYP was going to debut a new girl group under the name “6MIX,” but it fell through.”
“Oh, it seems like they had a hard time debuting due to one of their members leaving.”
“Yes, they added another member, Sana. It seemed like they were going to debut, but another of their leader also left the company, so they ended up scrapping the whole thing.”
“Poor girls, so much hard work and training to debut only to have it scrapped.”
“Yes, one in particular has been in their company for a long time. I heard she’s a very good singer.”
“Oh really? If JYP accepts the help, maybe I can ask him to release them from their contracts and send them my way.”
“I’ll keep you posted if there is any news, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“Would that be all, sir?”
“Yes.”
“I have a meeting with one of the girls, so I’ll head to my office.”
“Actually, I’m going to grab a bite at the cafeteria, so I’ll walk with you.”
The two of you walk towards the hallway, slap IU's ass, and walk the opposite from each other. Little did you know that you were seen by someone, the person IU was going to have a meeting with.
————
You get a message from IU that she has received some inflation about the deal with Big Hit and JYP as you are coming from the gym. It’s been a few days since you got any information, so you’re excited to see what’s going on. Without changing, you walk into her office, sit on the couch, and listen to some good news.
You might not have noticed that Jennie has been curious about the relationship you and IU have since she’s a higher-up than you. She doesn’t know about your real position in the company and only thinks of you as one of the staff members. She was shocked when she saw you slapped IU on her ass and decided to follow you after that.
Today, she had another meeting with IU and planned on having a light snack at the cafeteria before meeting up with her. Since she finished early, she decided to head up to the administration floor and relax on the outdoor patio before the meeting. She exits the elevator and makes it to the top floor. Jennie walks down the hallway and notices how quiet it is. She wandered around and found Irene’s and the CEO's office before hearing a faint noise coming from the hall. She quietly makes her way to the noises and gets to IU’s office from where the noise is coming from.
Jennie tries to listen and places her ear by the door. She hears moaning coming from the other side. She tries to make up what the people instead are saying and can only decipher the male voices yelling that he’s going to cum.
After some silence, she notices that the voices are getting nearer and runs towards the opposite side of the hallway to where the patio is. She peeks her head out and sees you coming out the door and IU fixing her skirt.
“What the fuck, were they fucking in her office?”
“Omg, he’s getting it on with a higher-up in the company. Maybe I can use this.”
————
Later that night, you get a message from Jennie from your staff phone. You read the message, and it is asking you for help moving some items around the house. You’re not in the mood to message her that you can do it tomorrow, but she is persistent.
Somewhat annoyed, you put on a shirt and head down the elevator to the floor where their apartment is. You ring the doorbell, and Jennie opens the door within a few seconds. She wears a loose crop top and small shorts that show off her petite body.
“You said you needed to move some stuff, right?”
“Yeah, it’s in the living room.”
You walk to the living room and see the items she was referring to. You spend about ten minutes moving the things, and Jennie is watching you up close the whole time.
“Is that all you needed?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Alright, I’m going. I’m tired.”
“Okay, but I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“Please, don’t. The stuff wasn’t that heavy. Maybe try moving it between the five of you before calling me.”
You can tell that Jennie got upset by this based on her facial expression. “I don’t know why you’re complaining; it's part of your job.”
“It’s not. I was just doing this as a favor since you all just moved into the apartment, but that was a few months ago. You girls can figure stuff out,” as you grab your phone and head for the door.
Upset, Jennie yells, “If you’re going to be a douchebag about it all like the CEO, you’re messing around with his assistant.”
You turn around and see a grin on her face, blackmailing you. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I know that the two of you were fucking in her office the other day.”
“Lies.”
“I saw smack her ass a while back, and this time, you were leaving her office, and she was skirted and had a smile on her face.”
“If that’s true, how would you know?”
“I heard the two of you doing it.”
“No one is going to believe you.”
“Hmph, I wouldn’t be so sure. I have the CEO’s number.”
“You’re bluffing. You don’t have his number.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, holding her phone out.
“Alright, do it.”
“Okay, I will” and is about to press the call button but then says, “actually, he might be busy with important stuff. I don’t want to bother him.”
You know she doesn’t have your actual work number, so you tease her, “I don’t think he’s busy. Why don’t we go visit him and tell him the situation? I think he would be more than happy to hear about it.”
You can see her expression change, and she says, “No, I think we can just leave it like that.”
You grab her waist, “Let’s clear things up. I don’t want rumors that I’m messing with the CEO’s assistant.” You pull her hand, exit her apartment, walk towards the elevator, and press the button for the top floor.
Jennie looks nervous but tries to hide her expression. “He’s going to be upset that we’re bothering him.”
“I don’t think so, plus you’re blackmailing me.”
When you arrive at the top floor, the elevator rings, and you both exit and walk towards the hallway. You ring the doorbell, but there is no answer.
With a faint smile of relief, Jennie says, “See, he’s not here, so let me waist go.”
“Hmm… let me try something.” You press the numbers on the keypad and hear a ring, unlocking the door.
“How did you do that?”
You pull Jennie and lock the door. “Seems like no one is home. CEO-nim! Jennie and I are looking for you!”
“Stop, he’s going to be made that we’re inside his home. Let’s go.”
“No, I don’t want to; let’s have a bit of fun.” You walk towards the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab a beer. “He has some good taste, nice.”
“Leave it; he’s going to get mad!”
“No, he won’t.”
“Yes, he is. I heard that he’s mean.”
“Really? They said that?”
“Irene said that he makes them work to the bone.”
“No, I don’t. Wait until I see her tomorrow.”
Jennie’s reaction changes, and she says, “What did you say?”
“Nothing, forget about it.”
“You said something.” She stops, looks around, and walks to the living room. She sees pictures of you and freezes.
Frozen for also a minute, she turns around and says, “Are you CEO-nim?”
You want to play it off, but know that the gig is over. Instead, you smile and say, “Dang, you caught me. Surprise!”
Many things go through her mind, like how she ordered you around the apartment, teased you, and even tried to blackmail you.
“So what’s this about having my phone number and blackmailing me about fucking IU.”
Jennie gets on her knees, rubs her hands together, and begs, “I’m sorry. I was just joking around. I didn't mean it.”
“It wasn’t funny. Why did you do it?”
She bites her lip and tries to come up with a reason, saying, “I don’t know. I just wanted to tease you a bit and got jealous.”
“Jealous? What for?”
“You’re my type, and when I saw you and IU, I wanted to blackmail you so you can do whatever I say.”
“You know, that could have really gone bad and gotten someone hurt.”
“I’m sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, how will you take responsibility?”
“Ehh?”
“You said I’m your type, and you’re pretty cute yourself. How about we have some fun?”
Jennie can’t believe what your words. She knows she said that you’re her type, but that was as a staff/trainer. Now that she learned you’re the one in charge of the company, she doesn’t want to do anything that might endanger her chance at debuting but, at the same time, finds it kind of hot.
“What did you have in mind?”
“What do you think?” giving her a smirk.
Jennie knows what you’re thinking; it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it herself. You come close to her and grab her small behind, causing her to yelp.
She’s being this close to her. You know that she’s small and petite, “too, like a doll.”
“What?”
Instead of replying, you pick her up, carry her to the guestroom, and toss her onto the bed.
“Wait… what are you doing?”
“I’m going to fuck you.”
“I’m not ready yet.”
“I didn’t ask you if you were. I’m telling you what I’m going to do to you.”
Jennie is stunned by your words. The image of you has been turned 360 from ordering you around to the other way around. Deep down, she can’t help but feel small and submissive by someone so huge and powerful enough to change her life.
“Okay, I understand.”
“Since you do, then strip. I want to see what I’m going to be working with.”
Jennie gets off the bed and stands in front of you. She slowly begins to undress herself, taking off her crop top and her small shots.
Now in underwear, she shyly takes off her bra, revealing her small, cute breasts. She tries to cover them, “Don’t forget the bottom.”
You smile as she hesitates to pull down her panties and whines, “Do I really have to pull them down?”
“Do you want me to do them for you? Just letting you know that I won’t be gentle.”
“I…I’ll do it then,” as she slowly pulls them down until it drops on the floor and quickly cover her cunt.
“Take your hands off.”
“But…”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Jennie removes her hands, revealing her semi-bare cunt.
“Fuck, you have a pretty-looking pussy and a nice pair of tits. Lay down on the bed and spread that pussy for me.”
Jennie feels embarrassed but does what you told her. She lays on the bed and puts her legs up. She tries to spread her legs, but the idea of spreading them open and showing her pussy to someone for the first time is nerve-wracking.
“Spread them more!”
She widens her legs until you see her whole cunt in view. With both her index and middle fingers, she slowly spreads her pussy lips, giving you a view of her unused cunt. “How’s this?”
“Hot. You’re making me hard.”
“Really? I’m making you hard?”
“Yeah. Want to see?”
Jennie has never seen a cock before in real life, only on the internet when she would masturbate while in the dorms. Seeing one in real life is making her both nervous and excited, “yeah. I want to see it.”
You undo the bottom and drop your buttons, leaving only your boxers and a large bulge in sight.
Jennie can feel her heart beating faster as you pull down your boxers, which makes your cock springs out. “Wow, it’s so big. Can I touch it?”
“Of course,” you say with a grin.
Jennie, with her index finger, touches the tip of your cock and throbs, “Haha, it’s likes me.”
“How about grabbing it with your two hands?”
“Okay, but I don’t think I’ll be able to wrap my hands around it.” With her small hands, she tries to wrap her hand, almost touching her fingertips.
Turned on, you ask, “Can I take a picture?”
Jennie looks up at you and smiles, “Sure, you’re the boss, right? I have no say.”
“Glad to see you know your place.”
You grab your phone and take a shoot of Jennie handling your cock. “Try putting it in your mouth.”
“Like this?” as she uses the tip of her tongue to lick the head of your cock. “Yes, just like that.”
You record her slowly licking your length, your shaft, pulling the head in her mouth, and even her trying to take a bit of your cock in her mouth as she plays with her cunt.
“Fuck… I knew you were a slut” you say as she has your cock in her mouth. “Hmmm… I’ll be your slut, Daddy,” giving you a devilish smile. You grab her chin in between your hands and say, “We’re going to get along very well.”
She stands and lays on the bed once more and willingly spreads her legs for you, spreading her pussy, and says, “Make sure you get a picture of this.”
“You know how to turn on a guy, huh.”
“I just want to please you, Daddy. Plus, I want everyone to know that you’re going to be my first.”
You can’t wait any longer; you need to fuck her now. You set the phone down, walked back, and spread her legs. She grabs your cock and presses it against her belly, and asks, “Is all of that going inside of me?”
“It’s going to go right in here and reach all the way up here,” as you trace your finger and her wet cunt all the way up to her belly button.
“Fuck me already, Daddy. Make me a real woman,” begs Jennie.
You grab your cock and rub your shaft against her wet lower lips, spreading them and covering them in her sticky nectar. “I’m going to put it in; just relax.” She balls up her waist against her chest, “Okay.”
Jennie nervously watches as you align your massive cock against her small entrance, waiting for you to be her first and only cock she’s ever going to taste.
You press the tip on your cock and slowly insert yourself until you reach her thin barrier, which separates her from womanhood. You look directly into her eyes, signaling that you’re going to go all the way into it. She nods back and tries to prepare herself for what’s to come.
You grab her small waist and, without mercy, put your weight onto her petite body and slam yourself into her fresh womb. “Fuck!!! I’m cumming; you’re too big; you’re making me cum!”
Jennie’s body spasms, and she tilts her head back as she feels her orgasm overwhelming her.
“Haha, you just came from me putting it in? Let’s see how many times you cum.”
You don’t let her rest and put her into a mating press. She groans from not being able to ride off her orgasm, “Daddy, wait. You’re going to make me cum again. Let me rest.”
“A girl like you doesn’t deserve to rest; you’re my sex toy. I get to use you however I want,” slamming yourself inside her once again.
Jennie cries as she feels her insides being rearranged by your cock, “Ahh, you’re messing me up inside! I won’t be able to with anyone beside you! Fuck…you’re stretching my small pussy out!”
Watching her becoming a mess is getting you more turned on. Even if it’s her first time, she’s a natural. You place your hand on her neck and firmly tighten your grip. Jennie panics when she feels your hand choking her, puts her hands around your arms, and looks at you in terror. “Shh… baby girl, calm down; I’m not going to hurt you, just something the both of us to enjoy. Trust me.”
Directly looking at you, she lets go of her hands and instead focuses on you, thrusting inside of her. “You feel so tight, Jennie; I feel like cumming already,” as you tighten the grip of your hand around her neck.
You see Jennie trying to speak, so you loosen your grip, “Ahhh… cum… cum inside me, Daddy. I… I want to feel your cum in my tummy.”
You tighten your grip on her neck again as you fuck her roughly, only hearing the sound of both your flesh against each other. Little by little, you feel your peak approaching, a cold sensation in your back.
“Fuck… I’m going to dump all my cum in your tight little pussy!”
You feel all your cum shoot deep inside Jennie’s womb with your thick cum. Her eyes roll back from how tight you’re choking her as you pump a large load. Her body starts to go limp from the lack of air, so you let go of her neck and see the imprint of your hand around it.
Immediately, Jennie gasps for air and comes back to her senses. “You’re such a good girl, Jennie. I think you’re going to be my favorite toy from now on.”
She gives you a weak smile, grabs your hand, and places it back around her neck, “Keep fucking me, Daddy. I’m your dirty like toy.”
The two of you keep fucking all night long, every time you pump your cum in and on her body. At the end, you take a series of photos and videos of your work, Jennie’s body covered in cum and her cunt oozing out a mixture of both your juices.
—————
You wake up the next day and see Jennie under your arms. You try to get up, but she’s holding on to you. Rubbing her eyes, she turned around and said, “Good morning, Daddy.”
“Good morning, Jennie. How are you feeling?”
“Sore. I can still feel some of your cummies in my tummy. I feel my pussy gaped. I don’t think I'll be able to get married anymore, haha.”
“Good. You’re mine, anyways.”
“Jealous?”
“No. I just got like sharing my toys.” You grab her by the neck with a firm grip and say, “Don’t forget that, okay? You’re mine.”
“Yes, Daddy,” as she feels your strong hand choking her.
You let her go and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. Jennie looks at her phone and sees text messages from her group mates asking if she visited her mom since she didn’t sleep at the apartment.
Jennie replies to them and immediately gets an idea that makes her smile excitedly, “Daddy.”
“Yes.”
“Since I’m your sex toy, how about making the rest of us your toys?”
“You mean your groupmates?”
“Yeah, how bout it? Sounds like fun, right?”
“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea; I’ll think about it.”
#kpop smut#male reader#jennie#jennie smut#blackpink smut#kim jennie#TM smut#kpop male reader#kpop reader#kpop idol smut#kpop x reader#idol x male reader#girl idol smut#reader x idol#idol x reader#idol smut#blackpink x reader#defloration idol smut#defloration smut#g idol first time smut#first time idol smut
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How does toji feel about halloween in general??
read this and immediately pictured our man leading both his kids up someone’s doorstep like “hey make sure you grab an almond joy for me :/” and “my back hurts >:(“ I LOVE HIMMMSNCHDJS
dilf!toji but there’s passing mentions of him working in an auto shop so maybe mechanic!toji ? who knows. no warnings for this one !
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toji always found halloween a little childish. holidays were a very rare occurrence growing up, so celebrating anything besides a paycheck or his latest divorce didn’t strike a chord in him.
he usually spent the 31st of every october begrudgingly taking his kids around the block for candy he could’ve bought for them himself. he’d stand to the side, still clad in his work clothes as the two of them eagerly held out their candy bags—pillowcases from his bed that he’d grabbed last minute.
sometimes an elderly woman would greet them at the door, eagerly handing his two mini-me’s a box of raisins or a handful of cough drops. he’d quickly usher them off the doorstep with a polite thank you, silencing their whines with a “shhh, i know, i know, just give em’ to me i’ll eat em’ at some point.”
sometimes a guy his age would open the door instead, sharing a knowing look with toji, a little nod of the head even simply to say “yeah, i’d rather be drinking a beer right now too.”
and sometimes—rarely— toji gets the chance to talk his game at a pretty lady. he knows he looks good, even with flecks of motor oil staining the front of his sweatshirt and faded jeans. that much is proven about 0.8 seconds into the interaction when the girl he’s eyeing rushes to put more candy in his kids’ bags, shooting him a bashful smile.
you’re different though, toji knows that as soon as you look up to address him.
“where’s your costume?” you tease, eyeing the older man as you hold a bowl of chocolate out for megumi and tsumuki.
he stands there for a couple of seconds, dumbfounded as you wait for an answer.
“… what?”
“where’s your costume, it’s halloween.”
a fit of giggles erupt from the children in front of you at your inquiry.
toji frowns, then laughs quietly, climbing up the steps to look down at you.
“where’s yours?” he states plainly, cocking his head to the side as his kids bound down your steps and settle in the grass.
“i’m not the one trick-or-treating here.” you state plainly, looking up at him with a confident smile.
toji leans against your doorway, still towering over you with that sleazy grin. “huh, guess you aren’t.” he admits, reaching for his phone with one hand and pulling up the “add new contact” page.
you laugh as he slips the device into your hand, typing your name and number in a bit too eagerly.
“and what was that for?” you ask, feeling the heat from his torso engulf your hand as you slip the phone into his sweatshirt pocket.
toji pushes off of the doorway, “so we can talk about our costumes a little more at my place.”
your knees practically buckle at the invitation, nonchalant facade melting off your body and into the pavement with ever step he takes down your driveway.
the two kids bound over to their father as he makes his way towards them, hugging each of his legs as pats their backs quietly.
“is she gonna be another lady you do kissing with?” megumi asks, balancing his little body atop his father’s impossibly solid work boots.
“hey, quiet.” toji laughs, scooping the younger boy onto his hip and taking tsumiki’s little hand in his.
#adah’s asks#fushiguro toji#toji#jjk toji#zenin toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji x reader fluff#dilf toji#dilf!toji#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#toji fluff#toji headcanons#toji hcs#toji hc#toji x fem reader#toji x fem reader fluff
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JAM & BUTTERFLY
author's note. i love wonwoo so much?! also this songs is so cute wtf:(
summary. just a sweet morning with your boyfie<3
word count. 1036
warnings. may appear as a slightly suggestive if u squint :3 and! shirtless wonu (blame @slytherinshua)
warmth spread on your skin, sunlight peeking on you through the window. as you slowly stirred awake, you embraced the feeling of coziness – fresh air, comfortable blanket and duvet, fluffy pillow… warmth, so much of it.
but in a pleasant way. a way that hugs you and surrounds you in a bear alike grasp.
and you knew that another source of it was your personal teddy bear boyfriend wonwoo.
finally peeking an eye open, you saw the man himself. and, as per usual, mere seconds after waking up you were already stunned by his beauty.
he had his glasses on, resting on the ridge of his pretty nose. plush lips were parted as he was focused. wonwoo was reading a book, holding it with his right hand – pinky and thumb holding the pages down as the rest of fingers were supporting the weight. his upper back was pressed against the headrest, probably not the most comfortable position.
the sunlight fell on his figure, usually ebony eyes being now lighter, reminding you of pools of honey. they moved as he scanned the letters, fully emerged in the text.
sliding your gaze down, to his attractive neck and collarbones… down to his bare chest. you couldn’t help but smile, the gesture probably imprinting on his skin.
that is always a signal that the weather has shifted and it’s warmer: wonwoo is sleeping without his shirt. not the flowers blooming or astrological signs… just wonwoo and his lack of upper piece of clothing.
”someone’s awake, hm?” he hummed, his deep morning voice sending shivers down your spine. you’ll never get used to this - even though his voice (and laugh) might be the most beautiful sound in the whole universe.
“mhm…” you purred, too lazy to form words yet.
you just realised wonwoo’s left hand was holding you. it snuck under your (his) oversized t-shirt and moved in soothing motions on your bare back.
deciding to get even more of him, you shuffled closer and tucked your head in the crook of his neck.
“i made breakfast, it’s still warm” wonwoo announced softly and you could feel the vibrations coming from his neck when he spoke.
whatever he did, it always gave you butterflies. whether it was… breakfast in the morning or just washing the dishes for you. he made feel like a teenager again; all sweet inside.
“in a sec…” you grunted, letting your eyes close again. you were just so… comfy… so…
“hey, misses, don’t snooze” wonwoo chuckled, his chest buzzing. a smile sprung on your lips but your eyes remained closed.
“you’re reading either way, i’ll just nap” replying, you weren’t sure how he understood you: half of your words came out as a slurred speech.
but he understood, he always did.
you felt him move a bit, probably to put the book away. then, it was all sudden but oh so soft, his right arm wrapped around you as well. your face momentarily squished into his chest (not like you minded) before he quite literally manhandled you – rolled over a bit closer and then made you sit up on his lap. trapping him between your thighs, one hand resting on his chest and the other rubbing your eye in a sleepy manner.
this was apparently very funny because wonwoo laughed wholeheartedly, hands squeezing your sides.
“what?” you huffed, trying to act annoyed.
“you’re just so cute, baby” he replied with that boyish smile of his.
there was a certain way in which he looked at you. for a while you didn’t realise, only when your friends pointed it out: wonwoo admired you, looked at you as if you hung the stars yourself.
“don’t look at me like that” you giggled, realising he’s doing it now. sure, he wasn’t doing it in purpose. but wonwoo just couldn’t help himself but scan your pretty features, take in your appearance in front of him – basking in sunlight, having messy hair and a bare face.
“why?” your boyfriend teased, poking your sides gently.
“because i’m shy” you let out a grunt and hung your head down, trying to hide your face from him.
“ah…” he sighed, amused. you moved closer and pecked his forehead, taking his hands off you in the meantime.
and then you tried to escape, to brush your teeth.
keyword: tried.
because in no time wonwoo’s cat-alike instincts trapped you in his hold again.
“where are you running off to?” he teased and patted the spot were you were sleeping. you sat there, crossing your legs and as you yawned loudly, he placed down the breakfast on a wooden trace.
fresh strawberries and some watermelon (no blueberries, though), toast with jam, croissants with chocolate and coffee.
“when did you prepare that?” you asked and reached for a strawberry. wonwoo shrugged and grabbed the toast.
“i woke up quite early, couldn’t sleep. i went on a run and on my way back i made the coffee. i decided to leave it here and read a chapter or two… and then you woke up” your boyfriend explained casually but your heart was racing like crazy. he’s saying it like it’s nothing but… you were whipped. wonwoo was like honey, you were like a bee – not only was he sweet but it would always make you stick to him. maybe it was a cliche metaphor but that’s how you felt.
you noticed a bit of strawberry jam in the corner of his lips and you just smiled, reaching for the croissant.
“thank you, i appreciate it” you hummed before taking a bite.
“anything for you, angel” wonwoo smiled sweetly.
after finishing the breakfast and putting away the plates, you decided to stay in bed a little more. you grabbed a tissue and cleaned wonwoo’s face from the jam, giggles and chuckles escaping from both of you.
“a big baby, hm?” you cooed, cracking a grin. wonwoo just rolled his eyes dramatically and after you threw away the tissue, he pulled you closer. capturing your lips in a kiss, you could taste the sweet, sweet strawberry jam. smiling into the kiss, melting upon the moment you came to a conclusion that what’s what dating wonu feels like. like jam and butterflies.
main masterlist | event masterlist
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver,, @eternalgyuuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu
#seventeen#seventeen reactions#svt reactions#seventeen imagines#seventeen kpop#seventeen x you#seventeen x reader#seventeen carat#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen requests#seventeen reaction#jeon wonwoo#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo fic#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo#wonwoo seventeen#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo x you#wonwoo x y/n#seventeen x y/n#svt soft hours#wonwoo soft hours
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Hi !!! Can I request something romantic between shy reader and spence? maybe he’s like trying to teacher her something and they’re alone? IDK WRITE WHATEVER U WANNA RIGHT ILL EAT IT UP REGARDLESS <3
Your stomach hurts and you need to pee, but you’re stuck. You’ve been trying to submit your virtual paperwork for the last two hours. Why have they made it this difficult? You’re beginning to wonder if you’re being hazed.
Spencer told you it was easy. Well, he’d put a cup of tea on your desk (for which you hadn’t asked but gratefully accepted), seen you were starting your paperwork, and said, “I’ll see you for lunch in half an hour?” with a knowing smile.
You’d smiled back. You want to be in the know with him, even if you’d needed a ten minute recovery period after he left to learn to breathe through your nose again.
But it became clear after half an hour you wouldn’t be taking lunch, let alone joining him. Nervous sweat dampens your hands and the back of your shirt, and your face burns with heat —why is the office scorching? You’re in hell.
You click another button, sure you’ve found the right process, but a yellow triangle appears with an exclamation mark inside. Function suppressed, it says.
“Oh, good,” Spencer says, approaching from behind, a coffee. “I thought you stood me up. You’re struggling with the system?”
“I wouldn’t say struggling.”
“You don’t need any help, then?”
“Please,” you say softly, worried someone else will hear you. You don’t want anyone in the team nor the unit to realise how inept you are. It’s bad enough that Spencer’s cottoned on. “I can’t get it to work.”
“I was kidding,” he says, smiling tentatively at you. “Let me get my chair.”
Spencer tortures you sitting beside you, knee to knee and arm over your arm as he guides your mouse to the right page, then the correct paperclip. His watch falls down his wrist and brushes your skin with each direction, spurring chills all over. “You’re pretty much done,” he says.
“I don’t know why I was so confused,” you say bashfully.
“Because it’s a confusing system.” He smells like warm vanilla. You wish you could ask him about it, but you’ve a job to talk this close to him.
“Thank you for helping.”
He clicks through the last part of your file to check for any missing paperclips before he sends it off. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he secretly hates you, he takes your arm into his hand with achingly careful fingers. “Are you cold?” He rubs at your goosebumps. He has really nice hands, with strong veins. He moves purposefully.
Another rush of goosebumps down your arm. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyebrows tugged together worriedly.
“I’m just,” —mortified— “embarrassed about the paperwork. I didn’t know there would be this many online responsibilities involved, I would’ve looked them up.”
Spencer’s eyebrows rise as your sentence ends. You’d mangled ‘looked them up’, said it breathless as his hand curled around your fingers.
“Don’t worry about all of that. You can always ask me for help. Right? I sit right there.” He points to his desk. “Did you forget?”
Something about his tone suggests that he already knows you didn’t forget, but he takes your thank you gracefully, and continues pretending you’re cold rather than physically affected by his touch. He’s nice like that.
“Here, in case you’re still cold,” he says, too casual, draping his suit jacket over your shoulders.
Not that nice.
#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
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˚୨୧₊♱ study partners
Zayne is a brilliant and accomplished medical student, proficient in a number of fields such as cardio, neuro, trauma, pediatrics, ortho, and a lot more. However, an upcoming exam in his area of weakness, obstetrics, has him feeling anxious and unprepared. who's more qualified to help him study than you, his pretty childhood friend and roommate? ♡
♱ med student! zayne x afab!reader
♱ content/warnings: slowburn, friends to lovers, fingering, cunnilingus, piv sex (cowgirl), soft dom, switch, virgin zayne, virginity loss, you teach zayne the female anatomy, body worshipping, possessive zayne, soft sex ♡
♱ tags: @enchantedforest-network @crisae
♱ 5k
You woke up late in the evening in a panic, startled to find that it was already dark and cold outside. You had spent the entire afternoon sleeping after an intense training session, and had begun to worry that you had missed the day entirely and that it was time to get ready for another day. Your heart was pounding with trepidation as you left your room.
However, you discovered Zayne seated in the living room, still engrossed in his study materials that took up the entire coffee table. Realizing you had only been asleep for 8 hours, you felt both embarrassed and relieved— Embarrassed that you had woken up so late in the evening, and relieved that you had not missed an entire night after all.
“Look who's up... Good morning,” Zayne spoke when he heard your door open, still engrossed in the study material he was reading. His eyes remained firmly fixed on the highlighted texts and diagrams in front of him, not even looking up to glance at you.
“Hey, Zayne,” you chuckled softly, heading towards the kitchen to help yourself with a glass of water. He seemed thoroughly absorbed in his studying and appeared to have been extremely immersed in his studies. ��Pulling an all-nighter?” you asked, tone light and pleasant despite the fact that you had gotten a late start to the day yourself.
“Staying up late to intake information impairs one's cognitive functioning,” Zayne explained rationally, looking through the pages of his book as he spoke. “It's not worth it,” His tone was calm and practical, as if he was stating a fact rather than expressing a personal thought. He didn't appear to be tired at all, seemingly not bothered by the fact that he had been studying for so many hours. “I’ll call it a day in a while.” He added to answer your question.
You nodded in response, quietly looking around the cupboards for something to eat. Your stomach growling reminded you that you hadn't eaten anything yet. Just then, Zayne spoke up again, “I made vegetable frittatas for dinner. I already put your portion aside in the microwave, so just heat it up yourself.”
“Thanks, Zayne.” you smiled as you looked inside the microwave and saw the beautifully plated vegetable frittatas that Zayne had prepared for you. You pressed the buttons and the dish began to spin slowly. The light inside gave you a good view of the dish that Zayne had so meticulously prepared. As you waited for your food to heat up, your stomach rumbled louder, reminding you that you were indeed very hungry and had not eaten anything yet.
Zayne yawned as he turned the page in his study material, noticing that you had been quiet for a while. His gaze drifted to you as you ate the dinner he had made, the smile on your face as you tasted the delicious flavors making his body feel warm. The hour he had spent preparing the dish paid off, as he could see how happy and appreciative you were of the effort he had put in.
"Did the ice bath work?" Zayne asked, recalling his previous advice and wanting to see if you had followed it. "Yes, it works like a charm," you smiled as you continued to eat, your tone light and cheerful. You were pleasantly surprised that the ice bath had worked so well, and was grateful to have a roommate who is a med student.
You couldn't help but notice how effortlessly attractive Zayne was. His appearance was captivating, and his demeanor was effortlessly attractive. You thought about how even if he was having a breakdown right now, the way he carried himself suggested otherwise. You couldn't help but gaze at him again for a moment, appreciating his undeniable charisma and attractiveness.
You looked away when you realized that you had been staring at him for too long, feeling embarrassed by your gaze. You were aware that you had been staring for a while, and felt your face start to warm up. You kept your head lowered, focusing on your dinner as you tried to avoid looking at him.
"Thanks for the dinner, Zayne." You eventually finished the meal.
"You're welcome," Zayne responds politely, glad that you have enjoyed the dinner he cooked for you. He watches as you get up and heads towards the bathroom, noticing your head lowered as you did. He couldn't help but smile to himself for the fact that you liked his little gesture.
After spending some time in the bathroom, you emerge to your surprise finding Zayne in his place, his nose still buried in books. You were surprised that he was still studying despite the late time. You had thought that he would've already finished up and gone to bed by now; but it seemed like he was still dedicatedly studying.
"What happened to 'sleeping early to stay alert'?" you tease playfully, approaching him with a cup of green tea in hand. You gently place the cup on the desk, the steaming hot tea filling the nearby air with an aromatic scent. His stoic and practical approach to studying seems to have been abandoned in favor of continuing to ingest information even after an all-nighter.
"I may have underestimated this exam," Zayne answers, pushing his glasses up and adjusting his sitting position slightly. His eyes seem bleared, but his voice still remains calm and focused. He seems to have realized his mistake in overestimating his ability to study after an all-nighter, and is now recognizing how hard this examination will be.
“Take a break. I promised grandma to keep you alive this semester.” You pushed the cup of green tea closer to Zayne. You were aware that his study sessions were often intense and grueling, and would sometimes even include all-nighters.
Zayne sighed softly and sipped the tea, as it provided a much-needed warmth that softened his tense demeanor. The tea's warmth eased his tense muscles and made him feel slightly more relaxed, which was something he very much needed in the middle of a study session that felt like it would never end.
"That's the one I got at the train station when we first moved in here. I also added just a teaspoon of honey to really balance the flavors. What do you think?" you ask, sitting next to Zayne as you continue the conversation. Zayne noticed how you seem to be making an effort to keep the conversation going, wanting to engage with him more and to get his opinion on what you have done.
"It's really good. I can taste the difference between the usual and yours. The honey adds a nice subtle sweetness that really complements the flavors of the green tea.” She smiles in response to his compliment before peeking at the books on the desk, curious to see what he's currently studying. "What's got you so stressed anyways? Is it a certain subject?"
Zayne pauses for a moment, the steam from his cup of tea fogged up his glasses. Then, he finally replies, slowly and with a bit of hesitation in his voice, "Uh...yeah." You shrug, not particularly concerned about the situation at hand. You has faith in Zayne's abilities and intelligence, as you believe that he will eventually come around and figure it out. You spoke with a carefree and relaxed tone, as if the issue was trivial and not something to worry about. "You'll figure it out. You're smart, Zayne," you assured him, the last part of your statement being an expression of positivity.
Zayne appreciated the positivity from you, but he couldn't deny that he was not the best at the subject in question.
"Actually… I may not," he admits, his tone sounding slightly more genuine and honest. He was clearly not confident in his abilities, which was in contrast to your carefree and optimistic attitude.
Zayne took one particular book from his desk and handed it to you, as if surrendering. The title of the book caught your attention and sparked your curiosity, which read, "D.C Dutta's Textbook of Gynecology".
"I suppose I never really dabbled so much in this particular specialty," Zayne explained, still looking somewhat defeated and frustrated with himself. He was acknowledging that he had never really put much time and effort into studying this specific area of medicine.
He wasn't necessarily saying that he was completely unfamiliar with it, but he was admitting that he wasn't experienced enough to feel comfortable and confident with it. You chuckled, responding to his self-doubt and frustration. "Trust me, even us girls still figure it out as we get older."
Zayne tilts his head, “Are you suggesting that even from a female perspective, it is normal to not have everything completely figured out when it comes to this particular… specialty?”
“Oh yeah.”
“That’s even scarier.” Zayne comments, sipping his cup of tea and seeming to be slightly troubled by the revelation.
You lean forward to place the book back down the stack beside the table, and Zayne gently places his hand on the edge of the wooden surface to prevent you from knocking into it. When you got back up, the proximity in between you and Zayne flustered you; and the fact that his free arm was just on the couch behind you.
You felt your breath quicken and your cheeks start to warm, as if your body was involuntarily reacting to his subtle closeness.
"You know... since... I'm not sleepy anymore, maybe I can... help you out with that?" You ask, voice trembling slightly with shyness as you toy with the hem of your dress, a subtle gesture that added a flirtatious context.
Zayne's cheeks heated up when you made the flirty offer, as he was not expecting it. His breath catches in his throat, and he speaks in a breathy and slightly nervous tone, avoiding direct eye contact with you.
"Don't speak like that, Y/N..."
"Why~?" You ask innocently, in reply to his flustered reaction to the offer.
"Because...I won't say no. I won't hold back," He responds, voice now growing even more flustered as he acknowledges that he is vulnerable.
Zayne's breath increased slightly, but he kept his movements subtle and respectful of your personal space. But despite this outward appearance of behavior and restraint, his eyes revealed a much different story. The way he was looking at you, with such intensity and desire, was a clear indication that he was feeling increasingly attracted to you and was struggling to resist your advances.
"Where do you need help~?" You ask candidly, your finger lightly tracing the frame of his glasses and causing him to shudder. Zayne finally caught your hand and locked eyes with you, the heat between them growing more intense as his hand overlapped yours. “Do you really want to help me?”
You noticed the way Zayne's eyes kept wandering down your body, as if you were his focal point of attention. You nodded and placed his hand on your hip, giving him permission to touch you. “I’m a girl, and I’m your friend, aren’t I?” Your playful and mischievous actions made the situation even more titillating.
“I’ve already gone through everything but…” He said, his voice slowly growing more confident and bold, as he grabbed your face. "We can go off-textbook..." He suggested brushing her hair in a sensuous way. His tone and manner were becoming more confident and bold, implying that he was willing to take things to a different level.
He was giving a subtle hint that he wanted to take things further, that he was ready and willing to explore your connection in a different way.
You lean down to whisper into his ear, "Yes...way better than photos and texts on paper," sending a shiver down his spine. You weren't just giving a playful response, but actually agreeing with his suggestion, making you even more provocative and irresistible and made him feel overwhelmed with desire.
Zayne sat you on his lap and held your chin, making contact and bringing you even closer. “I need to hear it from you, is this okay?” He asks, first, to make sure that he had your full consent before proceeding. Second, as a verification that it wasn't a dream, confirming that he had successfully taken you down this path.
"Yes, Zayne. I want this. Do you?" You confirmed, letting him know that you were willing to explore this connection further. You placed your hand on his chest, trying to feel the rhythm of his heart.
“Yes, please… teach me.” He was surprised by his own outburst of desire and infatuation, completely overwhelmed by your beauty and allure.
After stealing glances and gazes from each other's lips, Zayne finally took the first move to kiss you. The moment of your first kiss, your lips finally touching, felt even more intense and exhilarating because of this buildup.
Zayne sighed as you kissed, lifting you in his arms so that they could move to the couch together, continuing this intimate moment. The feeling of his arms wrapped around you and the way he moved with ease was like heaven.
He was taking initiative and taking you to a place where you could be more comfortable and where they could explore your desires to the fullest extent, which turned you on even more.
"You're even more beautiful to me right now, [ Y / N ]...may I see all of your beauty?" He asks softly, his hands now gently stroking your hair and taking in your physical presence and warmth. He was slowly building up the anticipation, slowly moving his hands down to parts of your body that would reveal your beauty even farther.
You are seeing a completely different side of Zayne, one that was passionate and expressive rather than just reserved and focused on productivity. And you were more than willing to allow him to dictate the pace at which things progressed. “Yes, we can go at your pace, okay? I know you have been studying so hard.” You place a kiss on his cheek, giving him the space and freedom to explore this more intimate side of himself.
Zayne lifted your dress and gasped softly when he saw what was underneath, astonished by your beautiful body. He proceeded to start from your tummy, using his large hands to gently stroke your skin with delicate touches and soft kisses. Every touch, every stroke, every kiss that he placed on you felt like sanctuary, as you felt him enjoying and fully appreciating every inch of your physique.
Zayne stops just on your lower abdomen, and he looks up at her as he says, "I'm gonna examine the figure now, my dear tutor." Instead of immediately moving to the more intimate parts of her body, he deliberately pauses before moving on to the next step to pull your panties off.
Zayne is still in the process of studying and learning about the beauty of the female figure, so seeing your body for the very first time is quite an experience for him. He had seen pictures and read many things in books, but there is nothing like the real deal. He wants to explore and examine your body but doesn't know where to start and unsure of how to proceed.
You found his flustered reaction so adorable and sweet. “Why don't you… tell me what you know~?” You sit up slightly to stroke his cheek,
Zayne’s breath was hot against your soaked pussy, he brushed his thumb against your entrance, inspecting the sheen layer of arousal. “I see that this is the physiological activation response of the dopaminergic and serotonergic system to my… stimulation.” He made eye contact with you by the end of his sentence. All the scientific terms and smart talking was adding to your arousal.
Zayne took your wrist with his other hand and pressed his fingers against the side, feeling your pulse. “Increased heart rate, too. I'm flattered.” He chuckled softly and let go of your hand, his thumb still sliding against your entrance.
“Yes, I'm very turned on right now.” You sigh softly, pussy clenching around itself as he keeps teasing your entrance. “Good, good…” He whispered, now taking his index and middle finger to run up your labia. “Your skin here is sensitive, I shall be careful.” He spoke, leaning forward to get a better look. He adored the way your folds reacted to his fingers with every stroke and spread. “Zayne…” You sighed softly, your back falling back onto the throw pillows as his fingers explored your pussy. You were already struggling keeping your legs open and he was just barely getting started.
“H—ahhh—hhh” You let out your first moan of the night when his fingers come in contact with your clit. “Oh, did I find it right away?” His question laced with smugness to it. “Yes, you did.” Your eyes fluttered close when he established a slow rhythm circling it.
“This is the most erogenous area of the female anatomy, is it for you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your preferences. “Yes, I like being touched there.” Your legs tangled together on his back to pull him closer. “My, my…” Zayne’s breath started to uneven, his face heating up and glasses falling down his nose.
Zayne wants to forget his med school responsibilities for this moment, and he wants to simply enjoy the moment with you, focusing solely on you and your pleasure.
He wants to show his dedication to you in a tangible way. The medical studies and the test can wait, as he knows that he is currently with the girl he likes and he doesn't want to waste any time.
“Mmm— try to relax, dear… I’ll try to be thorough with you.” Zayne’s words made you quiver before you felt a finger slipping inside your pussy, making you gasp loudly. His fingers were long.
“Ah, yes, doctor… please…” You begged. All it would take from him was a little more of this and you would reach your peak. Almost immediately. But Zayne wants the moment to last longer. He used his finger just inside you to slide it around your opening and spread your arousal across your entire labia. Adding another finger, he penetrated even deeper and without warning, his digits crooked up and started to stroke your g-spot.
“Such a good study aid for me.” He sighed. “This soft spot here… it’s fascinating… does it feel good to you when I do this?” He made eye contact with you, your heart rate increasing rapidly. “Yes, when you do it, it feels so good.” You pant in between whimpers, subconsciously grinding your pussy on his hand. You find it so sweet and sexy of him to be checking and asking you these. He is reaching spots that you couldn’t with your own fingers.
“Ah— Zayne—” You almost screamed out when he placed a delicate kiss on your clit. You try to stifle a loud moan but it was too much to take. “May I try a more oral approach?” You stroke his hair and nod. Zayne’s cheeks flushed and attached his lips to your sensitive bud once more, closing his eyes as he sucked softly.
You tilt your head back, eyelids fluttering and trying to stay sane. Feeling it for the first time drives you to a new place; the sight of his head in between your legs, and the sounds from his lips truly sends you over.
He grips your thigh for support as he pushes his fingers deeper. He lifts one of your legs higher to slide more of his digits inside you, his mouth still latched on your clit and his tongue swiping your folds every now and then. You gasp and struggle against his strong arms.
“Mm—mmmh, you’re so good.” Zayne pulled away from your cunt and curled his digits on a different angle. His final touch sent you hurtling off the edge and your pussy erupted in a massive orgasm, your juices drenching his hand, making him gasp in response.
“I made you—”
“Yes, you did.” You whispered as your body kept quivering. He stepped back and you noticed the massive bulge straining in his trousers. “I think we need to do a more thorough internal exam, [ Y / N ]. Is that okay with you?” Zayne shyly pushed his glasses back up, a trace of your orgasm dropping down the lens.
You got up from the couch and held Zayne's hands, your bodies close together once more as you spoke. “From this point on, we have to learn together, because...it’ll be my first time doing this.,” You speak softly, looking into his eyes.
Zayne lightly stroked your cheek with confidence and certainty, his facial expression reflective of that. "Me too. Let's trust our feelings, okay?" He says. The mutual trust and willingness to follow your instincts is stronger now.
Zayne grabs her thighs and lifts her up in his arms, giving her a soft kiss. "Your room or mine?" He asks playfully, offering two choices. The ball is in Y/N's court, and he's giving her the chance to make the ultimate choice.
It doesn't matter. I want you. She answers confidently, making it clear that she's ready and willing to take things further and that she also wants him. Zayne nods and opts to bring it to your bedroom, giving you deep and slow kisses.
Zayne gently lays her down on the bed, kissing her gently and tenderly. Zayne keeps the kiss careful, as if he's being thoughtful and mindful of how delicate she might be feeling with what you are about to do.
"Do you...have protection?" You ask tentatively when you pull away, unsure of whether you should even say that out loud.
"Shit" He rarely curses, and that catches you off guard. He looks frustrated, and you can tell that he's annoyed by the situation. He says, "Well, since we're on the topic, I don't have any on me.."
"Don’t worry about that…I... have some." You shyly admit, letting him know that she does have protection, which puts his concerns to rest… for now.
A moment of relief for him as he took the box from your hand and saw that you had planned for protection. He took out his size, although he also questioned why you had these on hand.
Were you going to bring anyone else with you? An unusual sense of possessiveness surged to his neck, as though it were choking him. He fought out since he never wanted to think of you doing this with someone else but also didn't want to spoil the moment.
As if you had read his mind, you quickly tossed the box aside. “It’s not what you think!” you exclaimed, as you knew how this looked to him. “It’s a gag gift from Jenna for my last birthday.” You shyly admit.
You were cut off by Zayne's quiet laughter. “[ Y / N ], it’s okay, I believe you.” All traces of the dark possessiveness had vanished.
Zayne rises to his feet, his fingers making a descent down the front of his black shirt, slowly releasing each button as his eyes rake over your body. Parting your legs, you make space for him.
He removes the tie in the same unhurried fashion, seemingly content with his view of you. He shrugs out of the shirt sleeves, exposing curved biceps and defined pecs and abs. Then he crouches to remove his socks, never looking away.
You have such a keen sense of his proximity, the rhythm of his breaths, and the minute movements of his hands. It is rooted in the libido you get from being in his presence and is reinforced by the certainty that he will never let you down.
He moves as efficiently as possible, opening his slacks, releasing the belt, and shoving the remaining items of clothing onto the ground. His rock-hard body parts have been glimpsed in bits and pieces, but never all of him at once, fully nude.
His manhood lifts, protruding beyond the toned muscles on his v-line. He leans down with his eyes fixed on yours and an intense expression.
His eyes have a predatory look that makes you gasp. With his legs on the outside of yours, he crawls over you, straddling your thighs and prowling on hands and knees.
You were expecting him to pry open your legs and thrust between them, but he has consistently shown that he is not like the others.
With his mouth fused to yours, he hovers over you, caressing and fondling your thighs, chest, and hips with his hand. you can't breathe for how much his heavenly touches, heavy breathing, and passionate tongue drive you wild.
You tug at his shoulder, attempting to bring him closer. "Take off my dress, Zayne?"
Squeezing your thighs together, he uses both hands to remove the dress before lowering himself on top of you. His chest covers yours with muscle and heat while his eyes search your face as his weight presses you both into the mattress.
Your mouth opens to a delicious gasp, and he seizes it, his lips strong and aggressive, all his, his tongue sliding and claiming. His power acts as a shield, his large stature envelopes you, and his hands, seemingly in prayer, hold your face.
With your hips grinding greedily and your foreheads pressed together, you kiss through an infinite symphony of moans and heartbeats. Your bodies convulse in unison, holding the steely expanse of him in between you.
You squeeze your fingers around his cock, enjoying the sound of his strangled breath. His hips shift beneath you, his voice tortured. “Do you want to… top?” You nod without thinking twice.
In the next breath, he flips you, rolling you on top and folding your legs to straddle his hips. God, he's strong.
“I'll hold you. I'm going to lie and hold still until you tell me to move.” He softly strokes your hip. Until you gaze down at the huge, long cock rising up in front of you. Nervous energy trickles through your veins. You grip his shaft with both hands, stroking up and down, reacquainting yourself with his size. "Will it fit, Zayne?” Your breath rushes out.
“Mmhmm, we'll make it fit.” He chuckles softly and slides his palms up your torso, then plants a needy kiss on your lips.
You bend down and place a kiss over his temple, then you rise on your knees and help him put the condom on before positioning him between your legs.
True to his word, he doesn't thrust or move his hands. His eyes glow like a galaxy as he waits for you to draw him inside.
You lower onto him, inch by inch, marveling at the stretching sensation, the easy slide, the perfect fit. It's never this wet, this careful. You felt so full. Hungry. Relieved.
The sound of his guttural groan spurs you faster. When he's all the way in, you squeeze your inner muscles around him.
Zayne’s eyes clamped shut, muscles flexing in his jaw, his body relaxed beneath you. His eyes are shut. "Zayne?"
A throaty grunt is the only response he gives, charging your already overloaded senses with giddiness. And you haven't even moved yet.
You lean forward and press my lips to the ridge of his tense chest, then take off his glasses so he could be more comfortable. "This is it. We're doing it."
His eyes fly open, and he releases a satisfied chuckle. “Are we?” His hands tighten around your hips, his glare hard and demanding. "Fuck me, [ Y / N ]."
You were surprised by his sudden desperate and lewd display of affection. You roll your hips, testing the feel of him sliding against your insides and filling you with jolts of static.
His entire body trembles beneath you. “[ Y / N ]...” He wanted to move.
With your palms on his chest, you rotate along his shaft, lifting and rocking. The dragging, tickling strokes are unreal. The little shocks of electricity, the panting sounds of our breaths, everything centers around where you're joined.
You let loose, lifting your arms behind your head, closing your eyes, and circling your hips. When you bounce, your breasts press against his chest and the bed frame creaks. When you rock, your clit convulses.
“[ Y / N ]...” The headboard groans on his back.
You open your eyes and collide with his, a smile pulling at your cheeks. "You’re…good." You kiss his nose.
"God, [ Y / N ]." His biceps flex around your body, his thighs hardening beneath you. "I've never felt so…good."
“Move, Zayne. You can move…” You say and slide up his chest and thrust your hips, delighting in the feeling of the new angle. When you reach his lips, his tongue seeks yours, twirling and tasting.
If he wasn't your roommate and hadn't known him since childhood, you wouldn't believe that this is the first time he's felt the touch of a woman.
His kisses strengthen the brewing tide inside you. You sweep your hands over his biceps and cup his face. He deepens the kiss, the strong stretch of his jaw as erotic as the sinful way he glides his tongue.
With your hands on his face, you kiss him fiercely, passionately, while working your pussy up and down his length, while he dabbles with gentle thrusts.
"It's tight…" He grunts softly when you squeezed him with your pelvic muscles just to reinforce that side of things for him. It felt so naughty to be fucking your hot friend right in your bed. You could hear his cock sliding in and out of your slick tunnel with every thrust.
"I can make you feel better." You panted. Sliding a hand between your legs, you began to play with yourclit, knowing that it would make you squeeze and cum. The combination made your back arch hard and made you have to bite down on Zayne’s lips to stifle a loud moan.
"Come for me again..." He groaned softly, eyes fluttering close. And you did, your entire cunt contracting and you felt yourself squirt all over his cock, puddling out of your pussy and onto your bedsheets. He closed his eyes and you could feel your muscles milking his impressive dick into an orgasm.
When he opened then he met yours and it was almost primal the way he was looking at you— like you were the hottest woman he'd ever seen. His hips sped up and you feel yourself being pushed to another orgasm.
With one last thrust, his throbbing cock and fills up the condom, cock still balls deep inside you. The thick white stream kept coming as he gripped your hips and gasped silently.
"[ Y / N ]..." he gripped his cock and pulled out, stroking it, then pushing out the last few drops of his load.
“So Zayne, did you learn anything?" Your breath was coming in short pants. You let a finger trail down his abs while you both recovered from your highs. "I think you were quite thorough." His eyes followed your finger and you watched his muscles twitch before taking off the protection and tossing it to the trash can.
"I've learned a lot. Definitely." He gently lay you on his side and put your hair aside. He surprised you by grabbing your face and pulling you in for a soft kiss.
"Are you feeling okay?" Zayne asks, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable and pleased.
“Yes, you?”
"Yes, I am." You respond as he smiles down at you, adoring the way you brush the raven curtain from his face.
"Want me to change the sheets?" Zayne offered, wanting to make sure you had a comfortable sleeping environment. "No, stay, please..." The way you insisted him to stay, the way you wanted to not end the moment, made his stomach flutter in a different way entirely.
"But, can we sleep in your bed?" You look up at him with puppy eyes and he cannot resist that sight.
He smiles back and accepts your request, "Of course.” Zayne scoops you up in his arms and covers you with a blanket to keep you sheltered and warm from feeling exposed.
You lay together in bed and he holds you close against him, your head resting against his chest as your body lies next to his. "Comfy?" he says as he gently grabs your hand and kisses it.
"Very," He can feel your soft and sweet kisses on his neck, and he enjoys the warmth of your body as curled up next to him.
"Tomorrow... let me take you out for breakfast." Zayne says, kissing your forehead softly as he asks.
"How about your exam?" You ask, mentioning his test.
"It won't be until noon…” Zayne strokes your back. “Maybe we can squeeze in a last minute review too?"
#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#zayne#li shen#zayne x reader#zayne x reader smut#lds#lads zayne#lads#l&ds#l&ds zayne#l&ds x reader#love & deepspace
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lollipop
word count: 1.6k
warnings: afab!reader, oral (m receiving), smut - MINORS DNI
synopsis: felix has an oral fixation.
it starts with a lollipop. he hands you one while you’re working on your laptop, sat at the kitchen counter while he fixes himself a smoothie. you take it in your hand without looking at it, thanking him under your breath as your eyes glaze over on the thirty page article you’ve been assigned to read. it’s not uncommon for him to give you something sugary while you’re working, he knows you have a sweet tooth and he keeps jars of candy stocked just for you.
“you want a taste?” you quirk an eyebrow at him when he realizes he’s been staring, holding the lollipop out at him. he nods, moving towards you with an open mouth, and you’re quick to move your own mouth to his instead. he moans in surprise into your mouth as you swirl your tongue around his, transferring the sweet taste to him. when you pull back he’s flushed, pink cheeks and ears on display, and you smirk as you go back to your article, sticking the candy back in your mouth. he gulps down his smoothie and leaves the room faster than you’ve ever seen him, but you don’t notice, too focused on finishing your work.
you’ve forgotten about it by the next day, when he deposits an iced coffee to you when he gets home from his dance studio. the straw is already stuck in the lid but the drink is full, evidence of how he tried a sip on his way back and made a face when he realized he didn’t like it. you don’t know why he does this every time, he knows he doesn’t like your coffee order and yet he needs to try it every time like one day he will miraculously enjoy it.
you’ve forgotten about it by the next day, when he deposits an iced coffee to you when he gets home from his dance studio. the straw is already stuck in the lid but the drink is full, evidence of how he tried a sip on his way back and made a face when he realized he didn’t like it. you don’t know why he does this every time, he knows he doesn’t like your coffee order and yet he needs to try it every time like one day he will miraculously enjoy it.
you immediately take the straw into your mouth, suddenly parched as you take several sips of the drink, enjoying the way the cool liquid feels in your mouth.
“thanks, lix,” you smile up at him. “just what i needed.”
he’s still standing in front of you, looking down at you from where you’re sitting on the couch, and the expression on his face looks almost hungry. his eyes are dark, hooded and framed by dark lashes, and you blink up at him in confusion as you take another sip. did he put something in the drink?
“what?” you finally ask once a few beats of silence pass on. it’s a little creepy the way he’s staring, but its felix so anything he does just ends up looking endearing rather than wrong.
“nothing,” he shakes his head, pushing your drink back to your mouth. “drink.”
his eyes are locked onto the straw entering your mouth, the way your lips wrap around it, the hollow of your cheeks as you suck and oh. it clicks into place, and you make a show of taking the straw just a bit deeper into your mouth just to watch his eyes darken further. he shifts his feet a bit, uncomfortable, and you hold back the smirk your lips want to curl into.
“you should take a shower, babe,” you say sweetly, putting the drink down and leaning forward in your seat a bit so your mouth is near his hips. “you’re sweaty from practice, no?”
“yeah,” he chokes out, clearing his throat. “i’ll do. that.”
he scrambles out of the room and you’re left alone, burdened with new knowledge. you bite your lip, a bit dazzled by his blatant self serving behavior; how often has he brought you coffee just to watch you suck on the straw like that? how have you just now noticed? how long has this been going on?
you decide to take control of the situation, having been with him long enough to know that he would keep this game up for days or even weeks until he snapped. you were not willing to wait that long. you weren’t willing to wait at all, apparently, as your feet walked you to the bathroom before you realized where you were going.
“what are you doing?” he squeaks when you open the shower door, already stripping out of your sweatpants and t-shirt. his face is still flushed, worse from the steaming water he has beating down on him, and he moves to cover himself in a futile effort. as if you haven’t seen all of him before, time after time.
“isn’t this what you wanted, lix?’ you purr, dropping down to your knees in front of him. “don’t get shy on me now.”
the shower tiles are hard under your knees but you don’t care; there’s more important things to worry about right now than the weird bruises you’ll have there tomorrow. for one, the flushed cock, half hard, right in front of your face. it’s pretty, of course it is, everything about felix is pretty.
you’re sure you make quite the image yourself, wide eyes looking up at him, lips pink and bitten, hair dripping from the spray of the shower catching you around his body.
you take him into your hand, thumbing at his slit and reveling in how he hisses and braces a hand against the wall. you let the tip of his cock into your mouth, sighing in contentment around it as you suck lightly. it fits in your mouth so well, like it was made just for you; you’re the only one who would ever see it, touch it, feel it inside of you for the rest of time and the power that gives you makes your head spin.
he draws a deep breath when you take him deeper, and you can feel how tense he is trying to hold himself back. you suck a little harder, hollowing your cheeks and it punches out a strangled moan from him. the sound of the water hitting the floor is drowned away by the melody of sounds he’s making for you.
“poor baby, you’ve gotten yourself all worked out, hmm? want to take it out on me?” you draw back with a pop, taking small breaths as you move to mouth at his balls. your hands drift to steady his legs when you feel his knees tremble, and you move to nuzzle his inner thigh with your cheek. his skin is soft, milky white and smooth and you want to litter it with bruises left behind by your mouth. another time though, you muse as you peer up at him and shiver at his intense gaze.
“you drive me crazy,” he says, voice as unsteady as his knees, contested by the dark, possessive glint in his eyes.
you jerk him off in evenly paced strokes, going back to swirl at his tip with your tongue, exactly the way you know drives him mad. you’re twirling around him like you did the lollipop he brought you, sucking like you did on the straw, the things that he’s lined up in the past 24 hours falling into place like dominos.
you let your teeth graze the vein on the bottom of his cock, tracing against it with your tongue afterwards, your eyes fluttering when his knees go a little weaker and he dips down just a bit.
“so pretty,” he groans out, voice impossibly deep as he’s thrusting shallowly into your mouth in a show of restraint. his dancer’s legs are coming into handy, his muscles flexing under the strain as he resists from fucking into your throat. “such a pretty mouth, hmm? and all mine.”
you hum around him in response, eagerly sucking him down as far as you can. his hand reaches to dig into your hair, grasping your strands between his fingers. he doesn’t tug, not until you moan around him and he jerks his hand a bit, and the slight pinpricks of pain shoot right down your spine; you can feel yourself getting wet, incredibly turned on, but you ignore it. this isn’t about you.
he bucks into your mouth a bit and you choke, pulling back to squeeze at his shaft in a silent warning. tears prick at your eyes and a string of saliva connects your lips to him, dirty and lewd and he's staring at you like he wants to take a picture of you right now, lips and hand wrapped around his cock, to keep forever. he’s close, you know he is by the way his head is tipped back into the shower spray and his chest is heaving with labored breaths.
“you’re so good, baby,” he groans, tugging you by the hair back onto his cock. “so good to me. like you were made just for this.”
you swallow hard around him before backing away, jerking him off quickly and lolling your tongue out just in time to catch his release on it. a little dribbles onto your chin as you swallow and you whine as he wipes it away with his thumb. you close your eyes and lean back, utterly content despite having not been touched at all. doing this for him, making him feel good, has always been enough to satisfy you.
“what was that about?” he says once he gets his breath back, helping you to your feet when your knees buckle as you try stand. he turns you around so you’re under the spray and he massages expert fingers through your scalp, as if in apology for the pulling he did earlier.
“your fault,” you breathe out, leaning back into him. you hate how spent you feel compared to him, even though he’s the one who just came. “you left me a trail of breadcrumbs, i just followed them.”
“does that make me a loaf of bread?” he jokes, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder, his breath tickling your skin.
#skz smut#stray kids smut#lee felix smut#felix smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids fic#lee felix imagines#felix imagines#felix x reader#lee felix x y/n#stray kids hard hours#stray kids hard thoughts
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Please, Stay
Part 2
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel returns from his mission and you confront him about him leaving you a week prior.
Word count:1702
One week later
It’s a cold night, the fire roaring in the corner of the living room not doing much to protect against the harsh cold. I shiver as I pull the blankets closer around me, wishing he was here. If he was here I wouldn’t have needed all of these blankets, we could have been in bed together long ago. The warmth of his body shielding me from the cold.
My eyes flutter shut again before I force them open, the words on the page blurring. I slam the book closed, looking out of the window into the dark. How late is he going to be? I let out a long breath and rest my cheek against my hand. If I stare into the night for too long I can almost imagine him there, just watching me. Waiting for me to realise he’s there and run out to greet him.
Not this time. This time he can come to me. My heart aches slightly at the memory of the fight a week ago. If you could even call it a fight, it was just me begging him to stay and him leaving as always. This time I’ll speak to him about it, I won’t just brush it under the rug.
My eyes shut again and I let sleep take me away, maybe he’ll be back by the time I wake up. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll wake up to Azriel cradling me in his arms and apologising, telling me that he’ll stay. That he won’t be leaving again for a while. That he’s mine for a while and I’m his.
————————————————————————
Sunlight pours in through the window and I hiss, rubbing at my eyes as I adjust to the light of late morning. I stretch my legs and sigh, my eyes eagerly scan the room for a hint of him. A muddy footprint, a pair of boots by the door, a coat slung over the back of a chair, a lone shadow. Nothing. Nothing except for a piece of paper, lying on the kitchen counter.
My hand trembles slightly as I pick up the paper and unfold it. The sight of my mate’s neat handwriting and the faint scent of him coming off of the letter, bringing a smile to my face. A smile that's quickly wiped from my features. Two more days. He’s going to be gone for two more days. The tears return, the ache deep inside me becoming stronger.
I’m going to be alone for another two days, a half laugh, half sob chokes its way out of me and I frown as I storm off to mine and Azriel’s shared room. I fling the wardrobe doors open, hinges creaking as I start to throw clothes into a bag. I move around the house in a similar manner, grabbing necessities, enough to sustain me but not to alarm Azriel as soon as he gets back.
This is the last time. I throw the packed bag into the back of my side of the wardrobe. He has one chance. One more chance to fix this. To stay with me. Or I’m gone.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
I glance up from my book as the front door swings open and I hear boots being wiped on the doormat. My heart skips a beat as I listen intently to the sounds of my mate taking off all of his work gear, knife holsters and weapons being left by the door to be put away later.
I take a deep breath, schooling my smiling face into a neutral one as I remember the conversation yet to be had. My stomach drops and my heart beats faster as my mate’s towering form walks through the doorway and he sits himself down on the couch next to me.
Shadows dart out to weave through my fingers as Azriel reaches over to gently take my book from my hands. He places it down on the couch, the other side of him and gently cups my jaw guiding me to look at him. Tears begin to well in my eyes at the gentle touch, at the love contained in it.
Azriel shushes me, promising me that everything is ok and he gently brushes away a tear before pulling me into him. Into his embrace, his warmth, his comfort. Azriel holds me silently, letting me release the tears I had been holding for the past week. I sniffle, the tears slowing as I pull away from his shoulder, out of his embrace. A hand stays brushing tears off of my cheeks, the other rubbing circles into my hip.
“Angel, are you ok?” I let out a shaky breath, my eyes focusing on the shadows weaving through my fingers. Azriel’s hand gently grabs my chin, pulling my head up to look at his. Deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I shake my head softly and pull out of his grip, moving further away from him. I need a clear mind for this conversation, I need to put some space between us.
Azriel doesn’t try to move closer to me as I start my rant, the words I had been holding in for a week all spilling out at once. “I’m upset Az, I thought that you could stay for a while and then you couldn’t and I-'' The words fall steadily out of my mouth and Azriel’s shoulders sink slightly, he curls in on himself slightly as if he was just now realising the extent of how upset I had been at his inability to stay with me.
“And I know that it's your job and that.” I stop for a breather as Azriel looks into my eyes for the first time since I had started my rant. “I know that you have to do your job and that you have to do whatever the High Lord says,” my voice is calmer now and Azriel is still staring straight at me, “but I- I just wish that you could stay for longer than a handful of days at a time.” My shoulders slump and I let out a long breath as Azriel starts speaking.
“Baby, It’s my job. I have to do it, even if it means I have to be away from you.” Another sob wracks its way through my chest and comes out my mouth accompanied by a laugh. Of all the ways I thought this conversation would go, I knew it would be this way. His work is more important than me. I knew that and I still held on to the hope that I would be his priority, more important than his job. But I’m not.
I take a deep breath, I need to calm down before the conversation continues. I need a break, maybe some fresh air. I could go for a walk and come back to this in an hour or two. If Azriel will even still be here. I try to push the thought away, but its engraved itself in the front of my mind. Oh gods. What if I leave and when I come back and he’s left again. I need to finish the conversation now.
“Your job means more to you than I do.” I cringe as I say the words out loud, but don’t find myself apologising, I can’t find it in me to apologise for saying it. Saying the thought that had been nagging at me for days now. Azriel winces and I know my words have hit something deep within him. Have upset him, maybe now he’ll know how I felt when he left.
“Angel. My job- it doesn’t-” I meet his eyes, silver lining them. The light reflects off of the watery tracks drawn across his cheeks and I fight every urge to go to him and comfort him. To tell him that everything will be ok, when I don’t know if it will be.
Azriel moves to stand in front of me, his hands gently cupping my face. A look of desperation taints his features and he shakes slightly. “I’m so sorry, bunny, I never want to make you feel like that. I’m so so sorry and I-” he blows out a breath, dropping to his knees before me. Hands encircling my waist he presses kisses to my clothed stomach. “Az, I-”
“I’ll speak to Rhys, I’ll make him send someone else. I’ll spend more time with you. I’ll do anything just please, please give me a chance.” His hands tighten around me, fisting my shirt pulling me impossibly closer to him. “Just one more chance.” He mutters over and over and over again. Like a prayer, a worship, a wish. He repeats it louder, quieter, barely a whisper, carving the words into my skin through kisses and touches.
“Az.” I whisper and he freezes, silence embracing us as his gentle words and loving touches stop. Slowly, as if I have forever, I reach down, taking Azriel’s chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilt his head up to look at me. His normally godly features look ethereal, devastatingly beautiful as he sucks in a harsh breath. Hazel eyes shining with hope. Hope for a second chance. Hope for a chance to fix this.
“One chance.” I whisper, his face lights up and he wraps his arms around my waist again, pressing fast loving kisses to any part of me he can reach. “But you have to prove it. Properly.” He nods, hair brushing against my abdomen, “And you have to stick to it. Not just for a few weeks, but forever.” His hand starts rubbing my back through my top and I suddenly wish I wasn’t wearing it. “I still don’t fully forgive you for leaving the way you did.” His eyes glaze over with a new wave of tears but he fights them down, adam's apple catching in his throat as he nods slowly. Nodding in understanding and shame. Shame at how he had made his love, his mate feel.
“I promise, my love, I’ll do whatever it takes.” I nod and run my hands through his hair, brushing out the knots and tangles. “But first,” Azriel looks up at me expectantly, “I want to speak to Rhysand.”
#acotar#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#acotar azriel angst#azriel acotar x reader#azriel angst#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#acotar azriel
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MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)
ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻♀️
@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au
[image pulled from her masterlist]
let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)
characterization of gojo satoru.
gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from
i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.
forbidden romance.
UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333
reader’s voice.
i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers
escapism.
everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.
writing.
the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.
—
if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!
OK BYE
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk gojo#geto suguru#gojo satoru angst#series#alternate universe#romance#smut#fluff#angst#jjk smut#long fic#jjk series#medical au#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#fic rec#jujutsu kaisen fic rec#jjk fic rec#gojo satoru fic rec#gojo fic rec#celestie fic rec
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Midnight Muse (Part 23)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3,470
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Masterlist]
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“So…” Feyre trails off and your gaze slides to hers in the mirror from where you’re brushing on blush. Your first date with Azriel is tonight and you haven't been able to focus on anything all day. “You and Azriel?”
“Yeah,” you respond softly, trying to fight the smile that’s tugging at your lips. She already knows the news since she’d come back home this morning with Rhys in tow, trying to get you to come out for breakfast with them. When they saw Azriel padding out of your room shirtless, her jaw almost hit the floor. She was sputtering like a child and her boyfriend helped her get her bearings, violet eyes glittering as he grinned at Azriel. You had shrugged at each other as Rhysand guided Feyre back out the door with a cheerful goodbye. “Azriel and I.” Her brown brows are still furrowed and you don’t like that look, swiveling around in the mirror to face her. “Is it that crazy of a concept? I feel like this kind of thing happens all of the time.”
“In movies,” Cassian pipes up, exclaiming. He’s sitting on your bed next to your best friend, having invited himself over an hour ago.
You eye him. “What are you doing here again, Cass? Shouldn’t you be hyping Az up or something?”
“Nah, he has Rhys for that,” he winks over at Feyre who only raises her eyebrows in response. “I’m here because I’m seeing you off tonight.”
“You’re not my dad,” you scoff, fishing in your makeup bag for your mascara.
“But I’d let you call me that anytime, (Y/N),” he jokes and you shake your head fondly at him.
“I’m sure Azriel is going to love to hear that you’ve been flirting again.”
Cassian hugs one of your pillows to his chest, flipping through a book that you left on the table beside your bed. You wonder if he’ll find the page Azriel bookmarked for you when he’d been flipping through it, saying he’d slipped in a cheeky note for you to find along with the naughty passage. “He knows what I’m about. And if he feels threatened, that’s on him. I can just remind him of all of the times he used to—” The ringing of his phone cuts off his sentence and he slides it from his pocket, checking the caller before answering, murmuring a quiet hello down the line.
He frowns and you cock your head, watching intently. It’s not a face you think you’ve ever seen Cassian do seriously, and the way that his body tenses, you wonder who could be on the other line.
“Yeah, I’m on my way,” he says finally, hanging up the phone and springing up from your bed. He tosses the pillow back to the head of the bed and strides towards the door, a concerning pull to his eyebrows that has Feyre calling out to him as he makes for the door.
“Everything okay, Cassian?”
“I, uh—yeah, everything’s fine. I have to go,” he says but his mind is already in another place. “See you later.”
You and Feyre share a look in the mirror.
“So much for seeing me off.”
She grins at you, sliding off of your bed to join you in front of the mirror. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to do that.”
“Thanks,” you laugh, capping the mascara and putting it away. Leaning back a little, you admire your makeup in the mirror. “So, how are you and Rhys doing?”
You feel like you haven’t spent much time with Feyre lately, with her busy with her boyfriend and you busy with yours. Your boyfriend, the words have you giddy. You and Azriel are officially a couple now and everything feels right. There are no more late nights spent trying to get him to shut his music off or glaring at him when his eyes wander your way. Now, your nights are spent talking and kissing and touching. Lots and lots of touching.
Your heart stutters happily in your chest.
Feyre sighs dreamily. “He’s so great. I’m really glad we decided to move here this year, (Y/N).”
“Me too,” you grin stupidly at her and the both of you break out in giggles. “Fey, will you help me pick out some jewelry?”
Azriel told you to dress casually, something with jeans because somehow he convinced you to get back on that death-trap he holds so dear to his heart. It’s a sunny afternoon out, no clouds in sight, and it eases you slightly that you won’t have to ride it in the rain again, no matter how much you enjoyed being pressed up against him.
Now that you’re Azriel’s girlfriend, you’re free to press up against him whenever you want.
Naked, too.
“Here,” she says, hooking a necklace around your neck. She clasps it for you and you can’t help but stare at the blue gem that sits at the base of your neck, glittering in the light. It looks good, you think.
“Is it weird to be nervous?” you ask, playing with the pendent. “We’ve already had sex but I’m still feel all jittery.”
“Being nervous is completely normal,” Feyre answers, patting you on the shoulder. “You have to promise to tell me all about it when you get home.”
“I will,” you shoo her playfully, “I promise.”
You and Feyre chat lightly as you wait and it helps ease your nerves a little. She tells you about how excited she is about Halloween and asks if you think the both of you could convince the three boys next door to do a group costume with you. Cassian’s already been bragging about the insane pre-game party he throws every year before a night out at the bars, and you know you can easily get him on board.
A knock at the door sends your nerves skyrocketing again. You smooth down your shirt as Feyre rounds the corner to open the door, crossing her arms over her chest like a stern mother meeting her daughter's boyfriend for the first time.
She squeals when the door swings open to Rhysand on the other side. He laughs, sweeping her into his arms and guiding her backwards in his hug.
Your breath leaves your body at the sight of Azriel. He looks effortlessly handsome, his hair fingered through with a little gel even though he knows it’s going to be messed up from his helmet. His golden eyes gleam, crinkling at the corners with a smile when he catches your gaze.
He’s dressed in a simple black t-shirt but wears his leather jacket over it, the same one he had wrapped around your shoulders that night you spent in the rain. It’s pulled tight across his shoulders but he doesn’t seem to mind because the worn leather is comfortable.
Of course, he has his dark jeans on, and you catch his riding gloves peeking out of his pocket.
You move to him like a moth to a flame, eagerly accepting the kiss he bends down to give you.
“You look amazing,” he breathes against your lips, never able to part from you. Never wanting to part from you.
“Thank you, you look very handsome,” you compliment, holding him close by the flaps of his jacket.
“Ready to go?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, turning to say goodbye to Feyre and Rhys, who has his arms wrapped around her as they watch the two of you, grinning like fools.
“Where’s Cassian?” Rhysand asks, looking around the room. “I figured he’d be all up in Azriel’s business right now, playing the part.”
Feyre shrugs, answering. “We don’t know. He got a phone call and left right after.” Azriel and Rhys share a look that you can’t make out before Feyre’s continuing, sternly, “Don’t keep her out too late.” She points a finger at Azriel. He looks like he’s trying his best to stop himself from rolling his eyes and you stifle your laugh in the crook of your arm.
“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, “See ya, Rhysie. Don’t have sex too loud tonight. Or on the couch.”
Rhysand only smirks in response. “Why? Is it your turn?”
Feyre smacks his chest and you drag Azriel out of the apartment before she can go at her boyfriend for that joke. You’ve all heard worse before from Cassian, so the quip rolls off of your shoulders easily…aaaand now you’re thinking about fucking Azriel on the couch.
“If we fuck on any couch, it’s going to be yours,” you comment as you step onto the elevator with him. Their couch is both bigger and comfier. You wouldn’t let Azriel suffer on your cheap, navy couch that you and Feyre got for a bargain.
“Fantasizing about fucking me on my couch, princess?” Azriel hums, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. The elevator feels almost stifling with the heat between you two, his eyes glittering with interest. “We can definitely make that fantasy come true. Do you have any others I should know about?”
“No,” you answer all too quickly, and you try not to think too hard about the intrigue that flares in his gold eyes. “How about you?” you aim the question back at Azriel as the elevator comes to a stop on the first floor, doors creaking open slowly.
You can feel his gaze on your face as he studies you, and he doesn’t answer until you’ve left the building, Azriel holding the door open for you. “No,” he answers, but you know it’s a lie.
It sparks interest in you, and when you cut him a glance from the corner of your eye, he’s smirking.
Two can play at this game, apparently.
Azriel shrugs out of his jacket and you’re taken back to the night when he’d given you a ride home in the storm as he helps you into it, admiring you in the loved leather before he tugs you closer. The smell of him is intoxicating to your senses and you don’t even care that the soon to be setting sun is warmer than usual because being encompassed in his jacket makes your heart flutter.
You’re pressed all up against his front and Azriel can’t help himself but to grin along with you, dipping his head down for one more kiss. He chuckles as your lips chase his, pressing up into him on your tiptoes to follow. Azriel plucks one of the helmets strapped to the back of his motorcycle and helps you into it with the promises of more kisses to follow throughout the night.
You have to squeeze your thighs together when he shoves his own helmet over that dark hair of his. He looks hot as fuck standing there with his tattoos on display, peeking out from under the sleeves of his shirt and creeping up his neck. Said t-shirt clings tightly to his chest as if he’s worn it because he knows what it does to you, and you follow the lines down his long body to his tight waist.
“Earth to princess,” Azriel calls, rapping on your helmet with his knuckles. You startle from your ogling, glaring up at him. The crinkles around his eyes and the shaking of his shoulders are clear signs of his amusement, and you can’t resist that blush that stains your cheeks. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you answer, but it’s a bit muffled from the helmet. Azriel helps you on his bike and when you’re settled behind him, he takes your hands and pulls them tight around his waist.
“Hold on tight,” Azriel reminds you and your heart picks up its pace at both the proximity of your boyfriend and the fact that you’ve somehow allowed him to talk you into getting on the damned thing again. You tighten your thighs around his waist, wiggling even closer to him to make sure you’ve got a firm hold, and he groans like a man shot. “You keep grinding up against me like that, princess, and we’re going to go right back upstairs to that couch.”
That doesn’t sound so bad, you think. You don’t have to endure a nerve-wracking ride on the motorcycle where all you’ll be able to think about is how much your body might slide if you fall and you’d get to see Azriel’s pretty dick.
As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Azriel takes off without another warning. You squeak softly, squeezing your eyes shut tight as he pulls away from the building.
You’re pretty sure he can feel the pounding of your heart against his back because at the first stop sign his hands come down to trace the length of your thighs, reassuring you with his touch. It helps settle you some, enough to peek your eyes open and watch the houses pass you by.
At some point in the ride, you actually find yourself enjoying it, muscles relaxing but your body still pressed in tightly to Azriel. You’re enjoying the feeling of the wind on your skin, pulling at your clothes and the feeling of Azriel’s warmth seeping through your front. You can understand how he feels so at ease like this, like a bat swooping through the night sky.
You arrive a few towns over where Azriel parks against a curb. It’s an artsy looking town, murals covering the sides of brick buildings, colorful storefronts calling to you left and right. The streets are bright from the streetlights and filled with laughter and a positive aura that stirs excitement in you, even more so when Azriel takes your hand.
“You okay?” He asks, a touch of concern flushing through those golden eyes. “The ride wasn’t too rough, was it?”
You shake your head, smirking up at him. “I’ve had rougher.”
He snorts, tugging you into him for a hug because your body pressed all hot up against his wasn’t enough. Azriel walks you down a block and down a pair of stairs. The walls are filled with graffiti and you look around in wonder while Azriel checks in with the young looking boy behind the counter.
He finds you, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed as you try and discern the oddly shaped letters painted on the wall before you. You have no idea what the word is supposed to say, it’s bright red coloring stark against the deep teal wall it’s painted on.
“Here you go.” Azriel hands you coveralls and you scrunch your face in confusion. He has his own pair, a deep navy, and in his free hand he holds two respirators.
“What’s all this for?” you ask, examining the beige jumpsuit he’s handed you. It’s clean and fresh, so you won’t complain.
“We’re spray painting,” Azriel answers almost sheepishly. At his tentative tone you look up, and you nearly grin. His cheeks are filled with warmth and you think this is the closest you’ve ever seen him to bashful.
“We are?” you ask, eager all of a sudden. You know it’s something Azriel said that he, Rhysand, and Cassian have fooled around with, and you’ve always enjoyed seeing the many tags and artwork created on buildings and trains. You even researched Bansky for one of your high school papers, finding his reasoning behind his works vastly intriguing, but you’ve never tried the medium yourself. “This is going to be fun!”
Azriel’s shoulders droop in relief. He hadn’t been one hundred percent confident in this choice for a date, but he thought dinner at a restaurant wouldn’t be enough to impress you and that going to see a movie was much too cliche.
He smiles softly, reveling in the excitement in your eyes. “I think so too.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“Where do you get your inspiration from?” you ask Azriel, voice sounding muffled through the mask as you watch him paint a long, black line down the wall. The fan’s in the room are loud so you have to shout. You’d seemed nervous when you stepped into the room, cans of spray paint littered around the floor, the walls filled with intimidating artwork that you hardly had the heart to paint over, but now you’re most definitely enjoying yourself.
Azriel had been a reassurance from the get-go, explaining that everyone who booked time here comes in knowing that whatever they paint is going to be gone when the next guests arrive, so there’s no pressure to put on yourself, only to have fun.
And it is fun, getting a feeling for the can in your hand, how hard to press, how far to hold the can from the wall. Azriel showed you some techniques, guiding your hands in different motions to create perfect circles, to get the paint drips you were eyeing from someone else’s work. The only complaint you have about this date is that the masks make it difficult to kiss Azriel, who you’ve wanted to jump since he’d pressed his body flush against yours when showing you how to paint funky letters, his other hand a solid weight on your hip.
You’ve been in awe of him all night, sneaking looks over your shoulder at what he was painting; a skeleton stallion with a skeleton riding it, sword raised as if leading an army of the dead into war. He’s skilled in many mediums and your heart aches as you wonder how it’s possible that he hasn’t been able to receive an apprenticeship yet.
Something stings in your chest. The way that Azriel draws, paints, tattoos…there’s a confidence there that you’re envious of. Every spray he makes seems so sure, so well laid it’s like he can see the end result as he’s working. You yearn to feel like that.
“What do you mean?” he asks, eyes flicking to yours for a moment before returning to his work, letting you know that you have his full attention. You’re in the midst of painting the skeleton horse's eyes a bright neon green, whispers of black shadows swimming from its nostrils.
You sigh, abandoning your can of paint and wiping the remnants of the pigment on your coveralls. “All this time I’ve known that I want to be in art, that I want to do something with it, but everytime I make something, it never feels good enough. Like I’m not as proud of it as I should be. I don’t have a style like you or Feyre do, and, if I do, I haven’t noticed it yet.”
Azriel fully stops what he’s doing and turns to you. His hand comes up to caress your jaw, tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes are soft with concern and there’s a wrinkle between his brow that makes you want to reach up and smooth it out, suddenly embarrassed that you’ve brought this up during your perfectly good date.
“Is that how you feel?” he asks, and you shrug shyly. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all, but it’s been something that eats at you, day by day. “It sounds like you’re missing a muse, princess.”
You frown. “A what?”
“A muse,” Azriel repeats simply. “Something that inspires you.”
Something that inspires you. You toss the words around in your head, thinking. Surely, you find things inspiring. You wrack your brain trying to come up with something, something that keeps you captivated, gives you the urge to put your pencils to your paper and create something beautiful…but there’s nothing.
“So, you’re saying you inspire yourself?” you tease, thinking back to his exhibition. You tease, because if you don’t laugh, you might cry. You can see the glint of amusement in his eyes, and you continue your soft jab. “How very narcissistic of you, Az.”
Azriel rolls his eyes and before you can joke further, he’s lifting his can of spray paint and marking you with a big heart across the entire front of your coveralls. Your mouth drops open in shock but his smirk makes the feeling roll right between your thighs.
“I believe that muses have the ability to change,” he answers your earlier question. He’s staring down at you intently, and maybe he’s waiting for you to pick up a can and retaliate. Or maybe he’s thinking exactly what you’re thinking: trying to find someplace to tear each other's clothes off.
“Oh, yeah?” you ask defiantly. You want to cross your arms over your chest but you don’t want to ruin his work. It feels like you’ve been branded by him, claimed by his artistic talent, and something flares within you at the very idea. “What’s your muse now?”
Azriel doesn’t answer but he doesn’t need to. The way he seems to be devouring you with his eyes tells you all you need to know about who his current muse is.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumebrs @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakura-frost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie
#midnight muse#acotar#azsazz#acomaf#acowar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel/reader#tattoo artist!azriel#artist!azriel#art school au#acotar au
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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 4
Part 3
Aaaah, Tim had missed undercover work! There was just something thrilling about becoming a whole new person by making a few small tweaks here and there. He had combed his hair in a side-part, carefully applied make-up to make his skin look paler and his eyes bigger and put on a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Worn sneakers, baggy jeans, a loose plaid flannel shirt with a hoodie tied around his waist hid his lean, muscular frame. A slight slouch and his old high-school backpack completed the look. Goodbye Tim Drake-Wayne, Gotham socialite. Hello Adam Taylor, college freshman.
Jason took one look at him and practically fell over laughing.
“Oh my God, you look like a total dork! Would you like some braces to go with that?” he heckled, catching himself against the side of the car.
“I’ll have you know that this is the height of broke college student chic,” Tim sniffed in mock offence, “It’s called ‘blending in’ Jason. Maybe you should try it!” He walked past his snickering brother to get in the passenger’s seat of the beat-up Ford they used for travelling incognito.
“No thanks, I’ll leave the theatre performance to you,” Jason drawled, tossing the keys in one hand before getting behind the wheel. “I’ll just hang back and keep an eye out in case things go tits up.”
“I don’t even know why you insisted on coming along. I’m just going to question a civilian!”
Jason gave him a Look before starting the engine. “A civilian raised by mad scientists. The way our lives work, we’ll find her building Kryptonite powered robots in the janitor’s closet or something.”
“And the fact that she’s a cute red-head has nothing to do with it?” Tim teased.
“Nope!”
“Liar.”
The drive to Metropolis passed in a mix of mutual ribbing, arguing over radio stations and discussion of recent cases. They carefully avoided the elephant in the room - the reason for their current investigation. The sullen anger of their youngest brother, the quiet grief in Bruce’s eyes whenever he thought no one was watching and the mounting tension within the family. Tim doubted that this excursion would be all that fruitful, but he needed to get out and do something for the sake of his own sanity. The last thing he wanted was to watch Bruce emotionally implode over what may or may not be another dead son.
Getting onto the university campus was no problem. Tim had a fake student ID on him just in case, but it looked like he needn’t have bothered. His hacking had revealed that Jasmine Fenton checked into the university library after her last class almost every day, so it was just a matter of biding his time. He sat at one of the carrel desks, idly flipping through the latest issue of Forbes. I wonder if Luthor’s new tech acquisition means he’s up to something? Hm…
“Heads up, target at your 10,” came Jason’s murmur through Tim’s earpiece. Tim turned another page then sat up and stretched, glancing around casually. He instantly recognized the red-head from his earlier research. Tall and light build, long hair held back by a head-band, wearing skinny jeans and a dark grey sweater. She made her way over to the row of desks, carrying a small stack of books and a pencil case. She walked past Tim, only sparing him a glance and eventually settled down at the table farthest from the entrance and away from the other students. Perfect.
Tim got up and returned his magazine to the periodicals section before meandering over to Jasmine’s desk. He put on his best impression of a nervous smile. Showtime.
“Hey, is this seat taken?”
She only glanced up from her work briefly then went right back to taking notes. “No, knock yourself out,” she said in a bored tone.
Tim pulled out the chair next to hers and turned it slightly to face her. He sat down and cleared his throat.
“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Adam. Adam Taylor,” he lied, offering his hand to her. She gave him a tight, polite smile and shook hands with him.
“Jazz Fenton,” Her tone was light, but her body language screamed ‘please go away’. Tim filed the nickname away for later, “Look, it’s really nice to meet you but I have this project I need to work on, so…”
Ah, she probably thinks I’m trying to hit on her, Tim thought.
“Oh, I understand completely! I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, I just… I was just wondering if you could tell me about… you know,” he whispered with affected hesitation, “...ghosts.”
The smile dropped from her face and her gaze sharpened. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry! It’s just… your parents run Fenton Works, right? The ecto-biologists?” Tim rushed out, “I just wanted to hear your opinion on their work…” he trailed off at the look of tightly controlled anger on her face. She turned and scanned the room around them.
“Alright. Where’s the camera?”
Tim was caught completely wrong footed. Was she onto them?
“Camera? What camera?” he hedged. She slammed her notebook shut and glared at him.
“I get it. Lets pretend to interview the girl with the crazy ghost hunter parents and have a good laugh at her on social media later. Very funny, har har,” Jazz stuffed her pen back in its case with sharp movements, “Well I have better things to do than make you TikTok famous, so if you’ll excuse me,” she gathered up her books and stood.
Tim winced. He really needed to salvage this situation and quickly. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.
“I’m not filming you, honest! I just read some of your parents’ papers and wanted a second opinion on their research! They, ah… they seem pretty biased,” he said apologetically.
Jazz narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you researching ghosts, then?”
The best lies are built on truth.
“Because…” Tim took a deep breath, “I think my brother might be one,” he forced out, then swallowed hard and looked away.
“Oh,” the anger had drained from her voice, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Tim glanced at her as she sat back down. “Thanks,” he croaked and blinked away fake tears. They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Adam, what makes you think your brother might have come back as a ghost?” Jazz asked gently.
Tim collected himself for a moment, thinking about how to score the most sympathy points.
“It’s hard to explain. My younger brother… he saw something strange and now my whole family is freaking out. Dad is putting on a brave face but I can tell this is eating him up inside but he refuses to talk about it. I just… I need to know if there’s a scientific explanation to all this. I need to make sense of this whole mess!” he looked up at her through his lashes with his best puppy-dog expression, “Please, can you help me?”
Tim could practically hear her heart melting.
“And the Oscar goes to… Timbird!” Jason teased over the comms.
“Alright. But not here,” Jazz said, standing up again, “This is gonna take some time. And diagrams.”
Oh goodie.
Part 5
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#batman#batfamily#jazz fenton#tim drake#red robin#jason todd#red hood#prophecy universe#the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#tim drake loves acting#help how did this get so long
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coloring books
hey guys this story is based off the coloring pages on their fridge. this story is based off my own experience with anxiety but almost twisted into the perspective of someone with autism. i hope you enjoy reading and please leave requests!!
me and matt have been dating for a few months. he knows about my sensory issues with loud noises but right now his knowledge wasn’t really kicking in.
matt and his brothers are currently recording in the kitchen and im lying on the couch.
as i stand up to go to the bathroom the noise of the triplets bickering at each other escalates 100 times.
i squeeze my eyes shut and cover my ears walking into the bathroom, i do my business and stand up in the bathroom. i pull my AirPods out of my pocket and put them in my ears. i turn them on noise cancelling, i play some taylor swift, and exit the room.
i go over and grab my coloring book and markers out of the tv stand, i decide to stay upstairs to be closer to matt so i sit at the table.
i look over at matt and he smiles sadly “sorry” he mouths “its okay, i love you” i mouth back.
i turn back to my coloring book and start coloring. after a couple of minutes, i feel a tap on my shoulder. i take out one of my airpods and turn to matt. “hey we’re taking a bathroom break, i'm really sorry i'm trying to tell them to be quiet but they ar-“ “baby, its okay i have my airpods in. do you like my coloring?” i respond “yes baby i love it, can i hang it on the fridge when you're done?” i blush “sure” “okay i love you i’ll be back in like 15 minutes” he says with a parting kiss on the cheek, “i love you more"
i finish one page and start another before i feel matt sit next to me. he takes the airpod closest to him and puts it in his ear before lying on my lap. i use my non-dominant hand and put it in his hair while i finish this page.
once i finish my page i look down at matt to find him asleep. i tap him on the ear “matty?” “mm-baby” he slurs “c’mon lets go to bed” “m’kay”
he grabs my coloring pages and hangs them on the fridge using 4 pieces of scotch tape. i smile and place a kiss on his lips. he hums into the kiss grabbing the back of my neck. he pulls back and places a kiss on my nose. he grabs my hand walking us down to his room. once he makes it in his room he pulls off his shirt and changes into his sweatpants and flops in bed.
i take off my shirt and bra putting on his shirt.
i climb into his bed as he rolls over and lays his head on my chest with his arms tightly around me. “i love you so much baby. ‘m sorry we were being s’ loud” “it's okay matty, thank you for noticing and quieting down. love ya’” i say placing a kiss in his hair. “mhm” he sighs.
#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo triplets imagines#sturniolo triplets imagine#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo imagines#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagines#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut
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