#and then all go back to ao3 together in peace!!! I was going to read tedbecca celebration fics invetween roykeeleyjamie and tedtrent ones!!!

[laniidae-passerine]

but genuinely you can’t be doing the whole ‘oooooh two divorcees looking for emotional connection after heartbreak!’ and ‘I believe in romcommunism’ and ‘is it Ted that Rebecca is texting on banter???’ and ‘watch as they grow independence and self love but constantly with the feeling they’re intertwined in some lovely, chosen way’ just to go ‘actually they never get to together and Ted fucks off back home to the place that is now shaped by not great memories’. The fuck??? I’m bisexual, I was so there for the deeply unlikely TedTrent but I always thought TedBecca would happen because it makes more narrative sense. For two whole seasons they orbited around each other with this impending sense of collision, this hope they could find love in the strangest of conditions, in a stranger they’d never have chosen, only for that to be completely ignored??? This isn’t about ooooh heterosexual couple didn’t kiss (I will die on the bi4bi or at least Bi Ted hill fuck you) it’s about the fact that now, tons of moments are stupid as fuck! You played that with a hint of romance! You played that like something was going to happen! You wouldn’t shut up about Rebecca’s love life and Ted’s need to let go and have somebody else handle it all for him, they seemed made for each other from the start and you went ‘nah fuck it’????? WHAT IS THIS????

#ted lasso critical #sorry to tedbeccas!!! sorry to you!!! #coming from a ted multishipper who would have cheered if beard and him kissed with tongue #you guys were the ones who were supposed to win! we were meant to go ‘ah shame about tedtrent but we did see this coming congrats’ #and then all go back to ao3 together in peace!!! I was going to read tedbecca celebration fics invetween roykeeleyjamie and tedtrent ones!!! #AND WE ALL FUCKING LOST #I’m enlisting in tedbecca army now how did this happen #FOR A SEEMINGLY CISHET WHITE COUPLE???? THEY LOST??????? THEY NEVER LOSE???? #wow. literally the one couple like that I was rooting for above all the other options and they went fuck you. ted gets nobody and goes home #yeah you wish you were crazy ex girlfriend. but you’re not. they EARNT that ending. you earnt none of that. lord above it sucked #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso #also sorry back in my notes to clarify as a person who is also mixed race #I know cishet couples can lose if it’s a biracial couple <3 but like #just used heterosexual as shorthand sorry

[netherfeildren]

10:05 PM

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is exhausted, you're there to make him feel better.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post Outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; Somnophilia; Established Relationship; Friends With Benefits, kinda; Free Use; PIV Sex; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Kind of mean and uncaring Joel, but at least he makes you cum; Rough Sex; Somno may or may not have been previously discussed, but she's okay with it happening; He's in kind of in a hopeless and numb state of mind (likely thing for Joel Miller to be)

A/N: idk man whatever i might look into religion after this

Word Count: 1.4K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

10:05 PM

He’s exhausted.

That sort of tiredness that takes you away from yourself. The sort that takes away rest and peace and the ability to let go. Like you’ve crossed over the edge of the world where sleep is no longer possible, and all you are is sore and dirty and beaten, and you don’t think you’ll ever rest again. It’s just the too hard day, and the too hot sun, and a night that won’t ever end.

 And Joel is tired. 

He knows if he falls into bed now, he won’t sleep. He’ll stare up at the water stained ceiling, the cracks in the plaster deeper than the cracks in his mind, and he’ll find no rest and no peace and no forget, and all he’ll do is remember. 

Pulling his shirt over his head as he goes, he toes one unlaced boot off and then the other, the sweat damp cotton sticking cold and tacky to his back, and it peels off slow, a little disgusting, the grime of his shift all along his skin, in his hair, between his toes and under his fingernails and looking at you, the slow rise and fall of your shoulder as you sleep so peacefully, he knows he shouldn’t touch you, have you, know you. 

He doesn’t really care.

The button of his jeans, sticky, warm summer night air against his already hardening cock, and he watches you. You’re wearing a little white tank, worn and frayed and old as a long past life, ratty panties, too hot to pull the sheet over yourself, nothing but a sheen of sweat for cover. You’re beautiful in the way things aren’t beautiful anymore. Beautiful in a way that makes him not want you. But you’re here, and you’re his, and you give him things he doesn’t deserve, yourself, and Joel is a selfish creature now, bad and bristled in the way this new world demands, so he takes. 

All the time Joel Miller takes things. 

He doesn’t love you because he can’t, because he doesn't have it in him. But there’s peace here, or comfort, or something easy and silent and freely given. Understanding, maybe, which is all anyone can ask for anymore. He shucks his grime covered jeans and crawls over you, and he shouldn’t touch you, never should have, but he does because, again, he’s selfish, he touches you because you let him, because he has nothing else but this to feel good and man about. 

Hooking his fingers beneath the edge of your panties he pulls them down, slow and steady, watching the rise and fall of your ribs, steady heart in the steady rhythm of your breath. You’re still asleep, and he’s going to have you because he can, because you’re his without commitment or ask or demand. Because it’s easy. 

He pushes a soft thigh up high, opening you to his gaze and pulls your cheeks apart gently, dragging a gentle thumb up the crease of your sex as he goes. You hadn’t waited up for him the way you did most nights, and he’s grateful for this, grateful for the fact that you’d spare him from conversation, questions, wants. All the things he can’t give you and doesn’t even really want to because he doesn’t have any of that in him anymore. 

Sometimes, and he’ll admit it because Joel isn’t a liar, honest to a fault, he’ll feel that faint whisper, dream pulse of desire, like a thing he knows exists somewhere in the world just not inside him that beats of  togetherness or commitment or love. Something that beats of all the things he knows you want but he can’t give. 

His thumb against your little clit, and he circles and circles against the warm, damp dryness. You’re not dreaming of him, no immediate well of slick desire, and through his haze, it makes him a little bothered, a little sad if he still had the ability to be sad. But he circles and circles, and you shift and whimper, and then finally, eventually, there’s that drip of want. Sticky and sweet and only for him because he might not love you, but he does possess you, and you’re only for him. 

You turn your face further into the pillow, hips hitching, cunt dripping, a deep sigh and his thumb presses in, tastes the well. You’re warm and hot and tight, and he slicks his thumb in and out of your cunt, fucking you slow and gentle, stretching you a little while you still refuse to wake for him. He wonders what it would be like to love you, to know you dream of him, to dream of you. He shoves your thigh higher, wet enough now, and lines his cock up. 

Joel is tired, but he has this, and it’s enough.

Cockhead notched at your entance, and one thing he does still love: the sight of his too wide head against your too small hole, the sound of wounded hurt you make when he shoves inside and makes you all his. And he keeps himself slow and gentle at first, he doesn’t want you awake, that’s not what this is, he only wants you his and for him, until he’s all the way pressed inside, deep enough for you to wake with hurt and you shift and wiggle and your hips arch like you want to escape or want more but it doesn’t really matter anyways because you’re caught and flayed now. 

“J– Joel?” Soft as a butterfly while your cunt flutters around him. “What’re you doing, Joel?” And if there wasn’t the moan of his own little whore in the sound of you, he’d think otherwise, but he knows you’re pleased to be woken so. You press and clench and stretch like a cat, spine long and lean and fluid, arms reaching for something he can’t and won’t ever give.

He swings his hips back, fucks in again, your cunt’s good and wet now, and the giving’s good as the take. “Don’t worry, baby. Just gotta come. You don’t gotta do anything.” He pulls back again, your pussy flutters and sucks at him, and you plant your hands against the apocalypse stained wall of this poor and sad room in a place that used to be called Boston and let him use you as he needs. Just gotta come in you, he tells you again.

And you might whisper that it’s okay, it doesn’t really matter if you do or don't’. He doesn’t need to know, he doesn’t need to care. Joel buries his face in your throat and loses himself in the wet of your cunt and the heat of your skin, the scent of your sweat, fingers clutching and twisting at your breast, and there's a sound of hurt or want coming from your throat. He doesn't care much about that either. Just take it, just take it, he says over and over. “Just lay there and take my cock.” The sound of your wet, sloshing cunt is the loudest thing in the whole dead world, and he loses himself in it. He counts his breaths, counts his not blessings, only you, and eventually, he fucks deep enough he hits your womb, that place he’s reckless and careless about, and you start to milk him deep. A moan of his name, Joel, sleep addled, love deluded, what else would excuse or allow treatment like this, and you come on his cock like you always do. Long pulls of a too easy, too delicious cunt, the contractions of your womb reverberating through every line of your muscles while you suck him deep and cry into the pillow. Joel swears and sweats worse than he did through his long twelve hour shift, grunting and panting above you. And when he anchors himself above you on locked, bulging arms to watch the drag of your red cunt around his cock, slicked with desperate want for something neither of you will ever have, the way your ass bounces and jiggles against his too rough thrusts, he comes too. Fills you deep and full to the brim, enjoys the spill of it around the place where he fills you, spills himself dry. And he doesn’t feel content, Joel, but he does feel satisfied, he does feel sated. And he tells you that you’ve been a good girl because he knows you like it and knows you deserve it. And if he presses a soft and gentle kiss to the wing of your naked and sweating shoulder, it isn't because he loves you, but because he needs you. 

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

#vic fic #Joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

[roseglazedlens]

⦑ a kiss away ⦒✶.*

pairing(s): leon kennedy x afab!reader synopsis: you and leon were supposed to be just friends. until one night, an impromptu kiss changed the trajectory of your relationship. content: smut 18+ only mdni, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, mutual pining, oral (m receiving), p in v, degration, hair pulling READ THE PREQUEL HERE « words: 2.1k┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreicated! »

You can’t stop thinking about the kiss.

You can’t stop thinking about Leon’s calloused fingers grazing over the plump of your cheek, scorching your skin with hands so cold it reminded you of the rifles you handled during those gruelling winter missions. You can’t stop thinking about how his pupils flared, and you basked in the glazed cerulean of his irises, so clear you could see yourself through them.

Worst of it all, you can’t stop thinking about him.

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. Leon Kennedy is your friend, your best friend. Your first meeting was five years ago on the field, clicked instantly from sharing the same corny sense of humour, and since then, your dynamic with him has been strictly platonic. You told him about all your exes, your sex life in detail, who you dated and when you had your one night stands. Hell, you even told him about your revolting bad habits that you kept secret from your exes. There was no chance this man could fall in love with someone like you, right?

…Right?

Truth is, you valued your relationship with Leon so much that you’re unwilling to risk it. You two connected beyond the small stuff, sometimes you find your conversations take a philosophical turn. You two discussed about life, family, dreams for a better world – it’s not the kind of connection you can find again.

And now you two have shared a kiss.

You were startled by the sound of your ringtone chanting through the Bluetooth speakers of your car, piercing through your train of thought. Your brain assigned autopilot, navigating you home after a laborious mission in the middle of Texas for the past two weeks. Darting your eyes at the screen, you recognised the familiar name on your contact list.

Leon. Speak of the devil.

You clicked a button on the side of your wheel. The ringing stopped, and the line connected. Immediately, you were embraced by a glee in Leon’s voice, but only ever so subtly.

“Hey. Welcome back.”

“How’d you know I’m back?” You gripped the steering wheel, a tiny concern brewed in you, worried he would catch your unusual behaviour.

“Chris told me. He’s surprised you didn’t say anything.”

A deep sigh left your throat from your core. You couldn’t exactly tell Leon that you needed time, time to catch a breath, time to process your yearn for this man. No matter how understanding he could have been.

There was no use hiding – Chris would have told him about your whereabouts if you didn’t. Chris and Leon are close friends after all.

“Can’t get a moment of peace with you two around.”

“Next time, call me. I can pick you up.” Your pulse took a leap. In another time or situation, those words would not meant anything to you. It was just how Leon was, his instincts to help others extended into his personal life too.

“So you don’t fall asleep on the wheel, stupid. Your death will not be on my conscience.”

That earned a giggle in your books. You could tell Leon’s light teasing was an attempt to comfort you, to make you laugh, to hear the snorty chuckle between your lips.

“Don’t worry. If I pass, I’ll make sure to haunt you for the rest of your life. Regardless whose fault it is.” You quipped.

“That sounds wonderful.”

Despite his sarcasm, Leon’s voice warmed at the sound of your laugh. You couldn’t help but appreciate these moments like this with him, and you prayed what you had together would never go away.

“Anyway, get some rest. I’ll bring you some food to your place at eight.”

You appreciated how he remembered that you prefer to stay home directly after a mission. After difficult missions, the presence of people could be daunting and uneasy.

Leon’s the exception.

He always brought a peace offering – a chicken sandwich from your favourite deli, a viral dessert you saw in a store once, your usual frappuccino order with ten customisations… If you want it, he got it for you.

“See you soon.” He hung up and you drove home.

You’re thankful for internalised heating and electric blankets. They’ve became necessities for post mission self-care routine like this one. You scrubbed yourself down, cleansing the scent of blood, grease and dirt that clings deeply to your body. So when you finished, you feel rejuvenated. You napped, checked for new mail, checked for bad food in the fridge and took care of any errands you missed when you had to leave swiftly for the mission.

You waited and waited. It was almost eighty-fourty, with nothing but a brief text that penned “Running late” from Leon. You texted back, no follow-ups, no ‘seen’, no double checkmark. You wondered what was taking him so long, before the bell buzz at your door.

You opened the door, prepared to give him a lecture, just to find Leon with a familiar takeaway bag in his hands.

“No way… Is that…?”

“Yes. It’s from your favourite place.”

“Wait, the one that’s always has a long line…?”

Leon helped himself into your apartment. His hair soaked, it shimmered under the ceiling light of your apartment. He must have waited a whole hour in the rain.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you would be nice.”

You hurried to your cupboard, picked up a fresh towel and handed it to Leon for him to dry off.

“Thank you. I mean it.”

Leon nodded, a gentle grin at the corner of his lips knowing that you’re grateful of his gesture. And you genuinely did. No man, no ex, no friend you knew would do things for you to this extent. With your help, Leon removed his wet jacket and revealed his top also drenched underneath, clinging to every bump, every muscle on his torso. You swallowed deeply, slotting your eyes anywhere but his chest.

“I’ve got spare clothes in the car.”

You insisted on grabbing Leon’s clothes for him, thankful for the opportunity to take yourself away from the situation. You took the keys, and took in some fresh air. Anything to distract yourself from imagining your best friend naked on the top half. You opened the truck, retrieved his spare clothes in his gym bag and returned to your home.

When the door opened, you found Leon with his shirt already removed, revealing those sculpted muscles from the results of his vigorous training.

“Sorry. It gets uncomfortable when it’s sticky.”

You gawked, your eyes planted on the slopes of Leon’s tauted arms, pelvis line drawing a deep v into his crotch. He’s showing off. You know it. You struggled through the desire of staring knowing it will just rub his ego even further, but your eyes betrayed you. Leon observed you, a smug grin that made you hold back a punch.

“Like what you see?”

Leon strided towards you, taking his time. You had plenty of chances to walk away now, but your feet are planted to the floor, his dry clothes still in your hand. With a hand over your head, Leon closed the entrance door, and shifted close enough for you to catch his scent – the musky woodiness mixed with rain and his odour enveloped your nose – his signature cologne.

A hand reached to your waist, pulled you in his embrace.

“Do you want to see the rest?”

His breath tickled your ears as he whispered.

You forgot how attractive Leon could be. How others flock to his attention. Begged me to give them his number. With full confidence, you believed those charms didn’t work on you. Blissfully unaware that Leon chose to withdraw his charms in front of you, contrasting to the unadulterated need his body radiated right now.

Breath tightened, pulse sped, unable to keep up with your thoughts. You felt a sensation shot down your spinal cord, knees trembled slightly, a look of mischief clung to Leon’s face. Your body betrayed you, nodding incessantly.

“So honest.”

Leon feet guided you to the couch, sat you till your eyes level to the bulge in his jeans. The blond undid his first button, and your gaze followed the zipper downwards. Leon grabbed underneath his boxers, and his dick sprung free onto his abdomen. With a curled fist, Leon hovered it at the bridge of your nose and pumped it a few times in your direct line of sight.

“Wet it for me, baby.”

He teased, inching his cock closer to the pucker of your lips.

Saliva gathered at the back of your throat, your tongue desperate to feast on him. A droplet of precome leaked from his tip. You grazed your tongue on the tiny slit, circulating the drop all over your mouth until it blended in your saliva. The light hint of saltiness was there, and it was gone again.

Leon hitched a breath, his hands crawling down your head to pull your hair back loosely for easier moment. You hollowed your cheeks, and slide his girth between your lips. Light gasp turned to needy grunts, the hands groping your hair tightened, pushing you further inside.

You curled your tongue all over the head, coating it with your slick, indulging in the smell of sweat intertwined with his sex. Corner of your lips dribbled down your neck, eyes forced shut from the ache of the shape of his cock head engraved in the back of your throat. But you couldn’t get enough. You let a hand go from Leon’s thigh, and reached for your underwear instead.

“Look at you. Can’t even wait five minutes.”

Leon’s blue eyes glistened with cunningness. His hand tugged harshly at your hair, eliciting a pained groan that pulled you off his cock out with a pop. With one swift motion, Leon removed your top and pants, until you are bare in nothing but your underwear. He slid his hand underneath you, pushed your underwear aside, and felt the stickiness as a finger went inside you.

“God, you want this so much, huh?”

“S-Shut up and fuck me, Leon.”

Leon’s expression changed when you told him that. It triggered something carnal within, and shoved your back onto the couch, underwear pushed aside, cock teased your entrance. With one deep breath, Leon thrusted himself in you, ignoring your needy pleas. You shrieked in pleasure, your jaw drowned in the juncture between his neck and shoulders, nails clawing his back.

“You’re sucking me in, baby…”

Leon’s skin flushed red, his sculpted shoulders strained in delight at the impact.

Without further ado, Leon slammed into your swollen, needy cunt. Squelches and the slap of skin to skin hovered the air, and a stir developed in your body, threatened to release. Your eyes tried to brace shut, but Leon’s hand stroked your face when you did, demanding you to look at him. Until your thoughts were filled with him as you finished together. Leon followed, removed you quickly and landed the streams of come on your lower belly.

It was supposed to be a moment of euphoria, but Leon’s expression turned grim, parting from your embrace after his fingers dwelled lightly on your shoulder blades.

“You should have run when you had the chance.”

Leon sighed, regret forming at his tongue.

“You could have had a normal life, be with someone who doesn’t chase death like me. But now that I have you, it’s impossible to let you go. I can’t ignore wanting you anymore.”

You sensed years of agony and sorrow behind his cerulean eyes – you never noticed these emotions he kept so secretively in his heart. How much did he had to suffer when you told him of all your relationships in the past, and Leon supported you each and every time. No matter how terrible your exes treated you.

“That’s not the life I want.” You affirmed, two fingers brushed his lips and reached his jaw. “I don’t want an easy life, Leon. I don’t care how hard it is. I want to be by your side.”

Leon pulled you in tighter into his familiar embrace. He laid his lips against yours, and you are reminded of that intimate kiss you shared two weeks ago. The passion, minty sweetness of gum is so distinctly Leon.

It was his plea, begged you to notice how much Leon loved you. How far he will go to make you happy. It took you so long, but you could finally accept him. You returned the kiss, just as gentle, loving – a silent vow to Leon that you will make him happy as he lived.

“Come on, baby. Let’s eat. The pizza’s already cold.”

EDIT: I wrote a prequel to this! thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose.

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱ #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #leon kennedy smut #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil #fanfiction #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you

[eideticallys]

New Favorite Banter

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you should've felt satiated. last night’s affair should’ve been enough for you. after all, for the first time, spencer finally let his inhibitions go and railed you six ways to sunday. it should have been enough if only you weren’t greedy. well, you never prided yourself on being selfless. (part 2 to new favorite game, but it can also be read as a standalone.)

genre: smut (minors dni!)

warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dom!spencer, mean!spencer, rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, riding, name-calling (calling you a slut), degradation, slight dumbification, choking, spanking, masturbation (f) & spencer being a cutie after

word count: 2.4k

author's notes: hello! i'm back with another smut and a much filthier one at that compared to the first one. this is a part 2 to my other fic, new favorite game, but it can also be read as a standalone. i wrote this after someone requested for a part 2 to nfg & for me to write a longer smut fic. i hope you'll love this! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

PART ONE

YOU SHOULD’VE FELT SATIATED. Last night’s affair should’ve been enough for you. After all, for the first time, Spencer finally let his inhibitions go and railed you six ways to Sunday. It should have been enough if only you weren’t greedy.

Well, you never prided yourself on being selfless.

And now, here you are, lying awake in the middle of the night, a few hours just after being in the throes of passion with Spencer, unimaginably horny. But Spencer was asleep and as much you want him to shove his cock so far up in your walls, you know sleep is a luxury in your field of work as FBI agents.

So, you suck it up and decide it’s time you use your fingers. It’s not like you haven’t tried that before. Looking to your left, it is unmistakable Spencer is in a deep sleep, breaths coming out softly with his mouth slightly open. He looked so peaceful. A part of you feels guilty for thinking raunchy thoughts about him.

You crossed your legs to apply enough pressure. It felt so good but so, inadequate. You needed more, but you couldn’t risk waking Spencer up. You already feel guilty as it is. How much more if you woke him up from his restful sleep all because you were horny? But, you needed more, something to touch you right and fill you up. You check on Spencer again to see if he is still asleep, afraid the quiet rustling from crossing your thighs together to relieve your neediness awakened him. To your dumb luck, despite being a light sleeper, Spencer was still fast asleep.

Gently, you slowly slid your fingers into your sleep shorts, carefully sliding your panties to the side. You are drenched. Your wetness seeps through the thin cotton of your underwear and slowly slides down your knuckles. Spencer would’ve made fun of you if he was awake right now. Are you really that desperate? Three rounds from last night weren’t enough for you. You had to go again and touch yourself. You could imagine Spencer saying those exact lines to you as you started mimicking the movements he’d dole out. Caressing your nub, you started making figure eights on your folds, carefully doing it as quietly as possible to avoid waking the man sleeping beside you.

However, it was as if fate was playing tricks on you because for some reason, rubbing your clit tonight wasn’t enough for your needy cunt. It was as if the past few hours didn’t happen. You were feeling very deprived of the feeling of fullness. Stopping to take a breath and decide whether you should continue, you checked on Spencer again. He was now lying on his stomach, hair splayed out over his face, one arm slung over the pillow as he was facing you now. Fate was playing with you right now. Out of all the possible positions your boyfriend could’ve moved into, it had to be the one where he could wake up and see what you were up to immediately.

But you were horny and desperate to get off.

Forgoing all the possible consequences of touching yourself beside your fast-asleep boyfriend, you continued your ministrations. You started slowly easing two of your digits inside your warm walls, setting a slow yet sweet pace. You wanted more. No, you needed more. Biting your lip, you start curling your digits and plunge them back and forth. In and out. Faster. Harder. 

You’re getting there. Just a few more pumps and it’ll all be good. You just needed to stimulate your clit as well. You spit on your free hand, slowly trailing it toward your needy nub. You were about to reach your climax when you heard it loud and clear.

“God,” Spencer muttered in disbelief. You could almost hear the sleep slowly waning off of his voice. “Are you that much of a slut?”

You froze one hand mid-air and the other deep inside your walls. This was embarrassing as hell. You were like a little kid caught red-handed trying to steal from the cookie jar way beyond your sweet treat hours—like a teenager caught sneaking off in the middle of the night. Not to mention, you feel guilty as well for disrupting your partner’s sleep. You knew proper sleep was hard to come by—for both of you—and you just had to ruin it all because you were horny. Blushing red like wildfire, you cautiously removed the hand buried inside you.

“Fucking hell, Spence,” You tried acting nonchalantly like being caught touching yourself was something that happened a lot between the two of you. “You scared me. Go back to sleep, Spence. I can handle this myself. I know you were having a good sale—“

As soon as the indication of the word sleep was out of your mouth, Spencer was quick to mount you, gripping both of your arms over your head with one hand. You gasped in shock, almost frightened by how quickly your boyfriend moved. Your fight skills almost kicking into high gear—you had to remind yourself this was Spencer. Your Spencer, not some random guy nor an unsub tackling you. 

“Take deep breaths, baby,” Spencer murmurs as he nuzzles the side of your face—pecking the sides of your face, your jaw. “It’s just me. Nothing to be scared about.”

Really? You thought.

Spencer was never the dominant type in bed and last night was the first time he tried exerting control over you. But it seemed like after knowing what it was like to be in control, Spencer had acquired a taste for it.

“W-what are you doing, Spence?” You ask, chastising yourself for sounding like a deer in the headlights. “Go back to sleep. I’m fine.”

“Sleep?” Spencer scoffs as he ascended a bit to look you in the eye. “How am I supposed to go back to sleep knowing you were fucking yourself beside me when I’m right here?”

You moaned at his vulgar words. He was never one for being blatantly erotic, always coming off shy and a little bit inexperienced. But this wasn’t the case right now. This isn’t the usual Spencer you were used to. Something snapped in him last night and you know it. You just wish you knew how to handle him.

“I can’t sleep knowing your fingers are inside your pretty little cunt,” He continues as he still rendered you speechless. “When it should have been mine. Don’t you want that, Y/N?”

“Y-yes,” You croaked.

“Yes what, baby?” 

“Yes, I want your fingers, Spencer,” You panted. “Please. I want it.”

Spencer chuckles at your admission—begging—satisfied that you wanted it as bad as he does. The erection poking your inner thigh was a telltale sign of that. He languidly slid his free hand in between the both of you, his palm cupping your warm, soaked cunt. 

“Shit,” You swear, wanting more than just what Spencer is giving you. Your hips roll as you try to grind against his palm to relieve the pressure. “P-please, baby. I need more. M-more.” 

“God, you’re filthy,” Spencer groans while he stops your grinding by pinching your clit, making you yelp. “Fucking you dumb earlier wasn’t enough, you had to go and disrupt my sleep. Do you know what kind of girls do that?” He asks you as he swipes his thumb across your clit making you pant some more.

You were too lost in the pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head, panting like a dog in heat. You never wanted anyone the way you wanted Spencer. You’ve never acted this way with anyone. It was as if he unfastened something in you the moment you got together. Too lost in the pleasure, you forget to answer Spencer’s question—annoying him as he pinched your clit once again.

“Answer me!” He snarls. “Answer me, or I’m going to fuck my hand while I tie you up and let you watch me.”

You sobbed and nodded. “Y-yes.”

“Then, tell me, sweet girl,” Spencer coaxed you as you felt your slick drip down his fingers and your inner thighs. “What kind of girls do that?”

“Sluts,” You mumbled, embarrassed as you see Spencer smirking in triumph. “I’m a slut.”

“Good girl,” Spencer murmured, removing his palm from between your legs. You squirmed in protest, to which he simply tightened the hand holding your arms and tutted. “Stop that, or you’re not getting anything from me.”

You merely whimpered and stopped moving. You almost cried when you felt Spencer moving off of you when you noticed he was moving lower. Oh. His face is now inches away from where you need him the most. You swear you could hear your heartbeat with the way you were excited about where this was going. You gasp when you feel Spencer press a kiss to your swollen clit. The touch almost made you pass out as you writhe, trying to force Spencer into doing more. But despite his lean form, Spencer was a lot stronger than you. His hold was iron-clad as he keeps you from squirming too much. 

And as much as Spencer was stronger than you, you were selfish and desperate to cum.

“M-more. Please,” You beg, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment at how deprived you sounded. But it was true. You wanted more. You needed more. “I need your tongue, baby. Please.”

You could feel Spencer smirk as he obeys. He grants you the tip of his tongue as it plunges inside of you, tasting you. You whimpered as you scramble to clench your bedsheet. Spencer continued dipping his tongue inside you as his nose nudged your clit. You’re sure you’re about to lose your mind with how good he’s making you feel. You were so close to your climax, hoping Spencer doesn’t let up. Worried that he might stop, you clutched his hair as you tried burying his face into the apex of your thigh when you felt Spencer stop. He removes his tongue from inside you, licking a stripe up to your clit, and kneels. 

You’re going to cry.

“W-what?” You blubber. You could see Spencer trying to hold off a grin like something funny just happened. “Why’d you stop, Spence? I-I was so close. You’re being so mean.” You sob as he finally couldn’t fight off the laugh bubbling under the surface. 

“Oh, baby,” Spencer chuckles, lying down on his side of the bed. “You’re hopeless. My poor baby just wants to cum. Too bad, you don’t deserve it. You have to work for it, Y/N.”

He pats his thigh, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You do so as you hiccup, to which he simply laughs. “Poor baby. Do you want to cum?” You nodded at his question.

“Then. ride me like you mean it.” 

You clamber to sit on his hard cock as you pushed him back to the bed. Spencer complies, enjoying the show—the desperation—you were putting on for him. You sink to his dick in one slick motion causing the both of you to moan out loud.

“You’re so tight,” Spencer groans as you started moving in circles. You couldn’t take it any longer. You need to cum. “Fuck! That’s it, baby. K-keep going. Good girl.”

Your head spins at the praise as you clamp your walls around him as he pulls out drenched in your slick and sinks back in.

“S-shit,” You whimper. “Fuck! Oh my—G-god!”

Your eyes roll back when you finally feel Spencer take over—he’s probably had enough of your pace which only seems to satisfy you, and not him. Holding your waist tightly, Spencer thrusts into you roughly as he tries to capture your right nipple. You manage a moan, or something similar, you think. Your desperation slowly fogs up your brain while Spencer fucks up into you. He merely hisses when he feels you clenching like crazy, prolonging the stretch his big cock gives you every time he enters.

“How are you so wet?” Spencer hisses. “Shit!”

One of Spencer’s hands slides down to your ass and smacks it once causing you to yelp in pain—pleasure.

“God, you get off on this, don’t you?” Spencer growls as he gets a good grip on your reddened ass cheek. “You’re such a slut. Do you enjoy hearing how tight and wet you get? F-fuck!”

With Spencer’s taut hold on you, the thrusts seem to be sharper, more precise as you bounce up and down his cock, and you scream. You try biting Spencer’s shoulder but before your teeth could sink into his muscle, he manages to pinch your clit causing you to wail. 

“P-please,” You beg, for what? For him to make you cum or for him to stop, you don’t know exactly. “S-Spence.”

“Shit,” Spencer mumbles, thrusting up into you as he drags you down to meet his hips. “I know, baby. I know.”

Clutching his hair, you forced him to look at you as you smashed your lips against his. The kiss is needy and fiery and you could briefly taste yourself when Spencer’s tongue finally slipped into your spit-slicked lips. Moaning and panting, you could taste each other’s breaths and feel each other’s thundering heartbeats.

You are so close and you know Spencer is too.

You guided Spencer’s hand towards your neck and gently squeezed as you looked into his eyes to tell him this is what you want.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, never failing to ensure your safety even during your intimate moments. You simply nodded, to which he groaned quietly. “Fuck!”

Bouncing a lot faster now, Spencer slipped his other hand as he stroked your clit. Your mind blanks and you’re vaguely aware of Spencer coaxing you to come with him, the gentle hum of the air conditioning unit, and the sounds of your skin slapping.

And you shatter.

When you finally come to your senses, you feel Spencer gently cleaning you up with a rag. You whimper in sensitivity when you feel him clean the apex of your thighs. He gently presses kisses on your inner thighs and you smile.

“Before I forget,” Spencer breaks the silence. “You have to pee before going back to sleep. There’s no specific time frame for you to pee but you must pee at least thirty minutes after having sex as it flushes bacteria that could cause a urinary tract infection away from your urethra.”

You roll over and groaned to your pillow to tease your boyfriend. “Not now, Spence. You just rearranged my guts! Give me a minute.”

“F-fine!” Spencer sputters out. You’re certain he was blushing. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you complain of a UTI!”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me, baby.” You say seductively. “Banter with me some more and maybe I might just come again.”

Spencer merely sighs.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #smut #minors don’t interact #18+

[a-case-of-attachment]

The Lamb & The Serpent

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, mentions of sex, swearing, slow burn, mentions of depression, Charlie being the best supportive daughter, awkwardness, mentioned of death and violence, ducks of the rubber kind, Lucifer being awkward, fluff.

Please click -> here <- to read on AO3

The day Lucifer manages to fuck up a perfectly good friendship by realising he wants more from you is the day he walks in on you and Angel Dust watching his latest porn video like it’s a documentary and not a three way that looks more painful then pleasurable.

It’s the middle of the day, the two of you down in the parlour, spread over the largest couch and acting like it’s no big deal to be watching a friend get split open by an aggressively large rhino looking man and an equally intimidating elephant guy whose trunk isn’t the only big thing he’s packing. Though to the little porn star it probably isn’t anything all that unusual and by the way he’s going on, talking about camera angles and lighting you would think it was some kind art piece. Anyway, it’s not the porn that has Lucifer questioning his life, though that stirs something at the back of his mind that he will circle back round to latter. Much latter. When he’s alone. Preferably in his bedroom. No what Lucifer realises is that he wants to be where Angel Dust is.

The lanky demon was stretched across the sofa, his bare feet in your lap so you could slowly rub your thumbs into his soles as you both spoke about the film like it wasn’t a crass tasteless violation of the man. It looked so domestic, peaceful and Lucifer wanted that to be you and him with a desperation he hadn’t felt in centuries. Though maybe with his head in your lap instead of his feet, your fingers carding softly through his hair as the two of you just exist together in the same shared space. Oh, he could almost feel it, the ghost of a feeling that he hadn’t had in so long. 

It was round about then, as Lucifer was just about to get lost in his little fantasy that Angel noticed he was there, eyes going wide momentarily before a suggestive smile spread across his face. He had made a rather unwanted comment about Lucifer not needing to “hide all the way back there handsome, there’s plenty of room for you to slide right in. Or maybe you want a private show? I could go for a little quality time with daddy.” Lucifer wasn’t. Interested that is. Well not in Angel Dust anyway. “Noooo. No, no, no. Non. Nein. Nee. Just no,” Lucifer had repeated himself several times, just to make sure he got his point across and pointedly ignoring Angel’s rather dramatic gasp and nonsense answer of Lucifer having broken his heart.

Whilst Lucifer and Angel had been talking you had turned to look over at him, clearly surprised by his presence but it quickly softened into something fonder, something that had Lucifers insides twisting like he was full of snakes. Had that always been the way and he just hadn’t noticed? Lucifer had liked having your attention in him for quite some time, but it was hard to tell if that was because he just liked knowing you were actually focused on what he was doing or because he got a little buzz of possessive satisfaction, knowing that he was the only thing you were focused on. Either way Lucifer didn’t dislike having your eyes on him and he would be quite happy to be the only person who held your attention in such a way.

You welcomed him the same way you always did, tipping your head forward slightly and addressing him as “my King.” Not your majesty, or Sir or Sire but as if he was your own personal monarch and oh boy, wasn’t that just something. He really liked the idea of being yours. Your anything but especially your king, your ruler, just yours in general really. Lucifer could feel his cheeks getting hotter as the realisation sank in, his grip tightening on his staff as he fought of the urge to shiver under your gaze. Oh, this was bad, so very, very bad. 

You pulled him out of his little panic by asking if he was there to see Charlie. The simple answer to that innocent question was no. Lucifer was at the hotel with the sole purpose of seeing you and hopefully convincing you to abandon whatever you had planned and help him with his ever-growing rubber duckie horde. A rather lame excuse if he had ever heard one but he was running out of legitimate reasons to get you to spend time with him more often than you usually did. He couldn’t tell you that though, so he eagerly jumped on the excuse, excitedly talking about wanting to “spend some quality daddy daughter time with my little Char Char,” and cringing when he remembered what the little spider had just said to him. It sounded off even to him, his forced cheer falling flat at the end and trailing off into an awkward laugh. You didn’t seem to notice his obvious discomfort though, smiling softly at him as you informed him that “Charlie and Vaggie are out at the moment, said something about meeting with Carmilla to discuss angel defences. They didn’t say when they would be back.” Lucifer felt his heart drop, his rather rubbish excuse at being at the hotel now completely useless thanks to his poor planning.

He was just about to make his excuses and go back to his ducks when you said the best thing, he had heard all day and asked him “do you want to stay? Angel gets a little too into his performances (hey!), and I would like the distraction when he really starts getting descriptive.” Lucifer jumped at the chance, blurting out a loud and eager yes before you had even finished talking. Both you and Angel startled at his outburst and Lucifer cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure as he told you that he “suppose I could help, though its going to cost you little lamb. Those little duckies aren’t going to count themselves.” He hadn’t expected you to agree but you had sticking out your hand for Lucifer to shake as you claimed it a deal. An innocent statement on your part but left Lucifer feeling taken aback by how easily you had agreed, then again you did like his duck collection, so it probably wasn’t that much of a sacrifice on your part.

You don’t stop smiling as you push Angel's feet off your lap, the man groaning and rolling his eyes as he moves to slump in the corner, giving you enough room to move up and leave a spot for Lucifer at the end. He feels incredibly stiff and a little awkward as he sinks into the space, sitting ramrod straight with his hands on his knees. He doesn’t know what to do, has never just casually hung out like this with people that weren’t you and he’s not sure if he’s supposed to be watching Angel Dust’s performance or if he would have been better off just making some sort of excuse and going back home to wallow in his awkward patheticness. You shift next to him, curling your legs up under yourself and leaning it towards him. Your breath is warm against his ear when you speak, sending a shiver down his spine and causing his cheeks to heat again. All you said to him was that you were “glad you decided to stick around,” before turning your attention back to the tv and starting up a conversation with Angel once more but it was enough to have Lucifer relaxing, his strained smile slipping into something softer and more genuine. 

Lucifer was still there when Charlie and Vaggie came back, except somewhere along the way he had ended up getting involved with yours and Angel’s conversation. He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but Lucifer had found himself deep in conversation with Angel about the importance of foreplay and how “Valentino always skips it! It’s like he doesn’t understand how to please someone. It adds to the experience, gets everyone involved really going and trust me it makes the main event that much more pleasurable. That idiot just skips to the end like he’s going to blow within five seconds of getting anything on his dick. Oh! Hey Charlie, err, how much of that did you eh hear?” It wasn’t the ideal thing he wanted his daughter to hear him talking about, but he was surprisingly having fun. Plus, he had gotten to see you blush like a maiden when he had first mentioned about the benefits of having such a flexible tongue so he couldn’t say he regretted being part of it.

Charlie had been rather embarrassed about the subject of choice, even more so when Angle piped up and informed her that he was “learning all sorts of fun things Charlie. Like did you know that most women can’t get off just from getting a good dicking, they need murph!” Lucifer had been quick to put a stop to the conversation, shoving a pillow over the other mans face and shoving him off the couch. Ignoring yours and Angels giggling Lucifer had quickly strode round the couch and towards his daughter, grabbing his abandoned hat and cane as he went. He successfully managed to distract Charlie by asking “how was your day sweetie? I heard you went to see Carmilla Carmine, that must have been fun. Tell me about it.” Charlie had started talking almost instantly and Lucifer waisted no time in gently turning her around and ushering her away from the other two and the porn that was still playing quietly on the tv. 

Lucifer was listening to Charlie, hanging on every word and taking in as much information as he could because he wanted to know everything about his daughter but then he had caught movement out the corner of his eye and all his attention had snapped back to you. You were leaving, laughing at something Angel was saying as he draped himself dramatically across the back of the couch.  You spotted Lucifer staring almost instantly, offering him a bright smile as you waved, calling out about how “lovely to see you my King,” before disappearing up the stairs towards the bedrooms. Lucifer waved back sadly, his eyes following you until you disappeared from sight. The world felt that little bit dimmer as soon as you were gone Lucifer already missing your bright smile and cheerful disposition. Whilst his attention was on you, he didn’t notice the knowing look Charlie and Vaggie shared, or the way Angel Dust rolled his eyes and collapsed back onto the couch with a huff.

The weeks after that were weird to say the least. Lucifer didn’t know what to do with his newly realised feeling or the guilt he felt about moving on from Lilith when it had barely been a handful of years since she had left. He was a bit of a wreck actually, spending far too much time with his rubber ducks and complaining about how hard feelings were to deal with. It didn’t help matters that Charlie was finding every excuse she could to push you and him together. Anything from getting him to help you with things around the hotel, to sending you to pick up bits from his home that Charlie hadn’t shown an interest in for decades. 

You were always a good sport about it when the two of you found yourselves forced together again, laughing and making jokes about it and Lucifer did join in but it was strained as he panicked about how he was supposed to act around you now that he knew that this friendship between the two of you wasn’t enough. It was confusing and complicated, not helped by the fact he had no idea how you felt about him. Lucifer knew you liked him, at least as a friend but that was very different to liking him enough to let him smother you in kisses and worship at your feet. 

He had been out of the dating game for so long now, well actually he had never really been in it considering he had fallen for and married the first woman he had come across. He had zero experience with this kind of thing, and he highly doubted offering you an apple was going to do anything apart from make sure you were being fed. As much as it pained him to admit he needed help with this and there was only one person he felt comfortable enough with to even bother asking about this kind of stuff. 

Charlie was over the moon when he had finally managed to drag her away from the hotel and gotten out what his problem was. Lucifer could admit to himself that he had been worried about how she would react, fearful that she would think he was betraying Lilith, but Charlie had amazed him once again because she had been “so happy for you dad. I was, well after mum leaving you kinda closed yourself from everyone and I worried that you would you know, end up all alone. But not now! I mean look at you, going outside and talking to people. That’s amazing progress dad.” That had broken his heart a little, knowing that Charlie had been so worried about him ending up alone. Lucifer had done the only thing he could think of in the moment, pulling Charlie into his arms for a hug whilst thanking her for looking out for him and reassuring her that as long as he had her, he would never be alone. 

Charlie had laughed it off, brushing away her tears as she insisted that she wasn’t going anywhere. That had gotten Lucifer welling up, happiness welling up inside his chest until it felt like it was going to burst. He had been so worried that he had messed it all up with Charlie, convinced that no matter what he did it was never going to be enough to make up for the distance that had existed between them nearly her entire life but hearing her say that had been, well it was the best thing he had heard since Lilith had told him she was pregnant. It had been a rather emotional moment for the both of them, but it had brought them closer together. The gap between them that much smaller. 

The rest of his visit had been spent with Charlie coming up with a plan on how to win you over, convinced that Lucifer stood a real chance at taking possession of your heart. Lucifer wasn’t so sure though. Sure, he could be confident and charming but that came from being king and so much more powerful than everyone else stuck in the infernal blaze. He hadn’t needed to woo someone before. Lilith had just wanted someone to treat her like an equal and respect her whilst Eve had wanted to be free of her chains. It wasn’t like there had been any kind of competition either, Adam such a shitty husband that it had been easy to tempt his wives away from him. Though he had filled the earlier years of his and Lilith’s relationship with romantic gestures that had been very different to what humans now considered to be suitable displays of affection and he doubted you would be won over so easily with a horde of imp minions like Lilith had been. 

Charlie had so many grand plans, Lucifer franticly taking notes on things such as simple gestures like holding doors open or offering you an arm to hold as the two of you walked down the street all the way to those grand gestures like breakfast in bed and lavish gifts like diamonds and expensive perfumes. It was a lot and that didn’t even include all the date ideas she was throwing at him, Charlie already planning a romantic picnic on the hotel roof like it was a sure thing you would say yes when he asked you out. Lucifer had to put a stop to her grand schemes then, insisting that maybe it was too soon to be planning dates when he hadn’t even asked you out yet. Reluctantly she had agreed and instead they had circled back round to the little things, the simple gestures he could do to test the water before moving on to bigger and more obvious ones. By the time he left Lucifer had somewhat of a plan on how to win your heart and if there was a slight skip in his step then there was no one around to see it. 

Over the next few days Lucifer had started to implement his plan, starting with complimenting your outfit and making sure he opened every single door you went through if he was there. You gave him a few weird looks, but you never told him to stop so he considered it a win. On top of that he started to text you more, just little things about his day that he hoped would make you smile. He even phoned you a couple of times just to hear your voice. Though that had been a bit awkward. Lucifer wasn’t the best at holding conversations on the phone and the first time he had called you there had been a lot of lulls in the conversation, but you had still picked up the second time he called you, seemingly already prepared with conversation points that drew him in and had the conversation flowing easily in minutes. 

When you didn’t seem to dislike the attention, Lucifer had moved onto the next part of that plan, eggier and nervous all at once because he was about to get bolder and more obvious about how he felt. 

The most important part was to be more tactile with you. A brush of a hand here, a touch on the back there, maybe even brushing a stand of hair out of your face and sitting close enough together that he could press his leg against yours. In theory that was all fine, more than doable really, but the problem was that Lucifer hadn’t really touched anyone single Lilith and especially not in a way that was supposed to suggest something a little more intimate was wanted. Lucifer was touched starved, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop once her got to feel how soft and warm you are under his hands. Sure, he was excited for this part but that didn’t change the fact he was oh so nervous about it to.

What if you hated it? What if the very first time he tried to touch you, you told him get off and get away from you only to never speak to him again. It was a real worry, one that had him tugging at his hat and pulling his face as he shared that worry with Charlie, crying and whining about how “she’s going to hate me Charlie, I know it. As soon as I get a finger on her let alone a hand, she going to tell me to get lost and never want to speak to me again.” Charlie doesn’t say anything until his panicked and overly dramatic rant was over with, letting him get it all out even though some of the things he said were quite ridiculous. Once he was done though she had taken his hands in hers, offering a soft and reassuring smile whilst telling him that it was a “chance you’re going to have to take if you want to be with her dad. I don’t think she will turn you down, especially considering how much she’s been talking about you but there is always the possibility that your feeling might not be returned. Its something everyone has to consider when asking someone out but dad, of your serious about Y/N then it’s a risk you need to be willing to take and if not, well. At least things haven’t gone far enough that you can’t still be friends.” He’s stunned by her incite, her maturity. His little girl had grown up so quickly and was now a bright young woman capable of doing anything she put her mind to. Lucifer truly was proud of her and everything she had accomplished and didn’t hesitate to tell her whilst thanking her for being so open and honest with him.

His conversation with Charlie had left Lucifer with a lot to think about. His pride meant he didn’t handle rejection well and he knew that if you turned his advances down that there would be a period of time where his depression took over and he went back to making more silly little ducks then he knew what to do with. It would hurt to lose you because he really didn’t think he would be able to be around you afterwords without being rude or petty and he really didn’t want to be the reason you got hurt or upset. Maybe it would be better if he squashed down his feelings and just counted himself lucky to have you as a friend because he didn’t have hardly any of them, not real ones he could trust and be honest with. Asmodeus maybe, he could keep a secret and wasn’t all about the fucking like people assumed but it had been a while since Lucifer had spoken to him and well, he had never felt as close to him as he did you. The point was Lucifer didn’t want to lose you and if there was even a small chance that him carrying on with his courtship would result in that then wouldn’t he just be better off staying friends and being sure in the fact that he wouldn’t drive you away. 

The whole thing leaves him distracted and confused, Lucifer often getting lost in his thoughts when there were more important things he should be concentrating on. He doesn’t notice the concerned looks you and Charlie give him, or the hushed conversations as you glance nervously at him. He just doesn’t know what to do and he hates it, hates the fact that he feels so out of his depth when he had been so sure where he stood with you before all this romance rubbish had started. In the end though Lucifer doesn’t have to make the decision himself because you decide for him, and he couldn’t be happier. 

In an attempt to foster some sort of camaraderie between the hotel’s guests Charlie had implemented a monthly movie night where they each took turns to pick a movie they enjoyed in the hopes that it would get them all talking. Lucifer had accidentally become a part of that, Charlie having inverted him to join months ago in an attempt to spend more time together and get him out the house and Lucifer had just kind of carried on turning up, often sitting between you and his daughter and often needing one of you to explain what was going on because he had lost the plot after the first couple of minutes. Neither of you seemed to mind, even though you all knew that sometimes he did it on purpose, liking to hear your creative descriptions of what you were watching. 

This was a regularly scheduled event in his diary, so Lucifer hadn’t really though about not going until he found himself sat in the middle of the sofa, Charlie and Vaggie curled up together on one side and an very obvious space for you on his other side. He sat ramrod straight, hands clutching at his knees as he tried to come up with a plausible reason as to why you shouldn’t be sitting next to him. His mind came up blank though and before he knew it you were dropping down next to him with a sigh. You didn’t speak to him as you got yourself comfortable and Lucifer couldn’t even bring himself to look at you let alone talk to you. It felt weird, so different to how it had been, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was how things were going to be between you now, the same yet not. 

Lucifer completely missed the first half of the film, eyes fixed on the screen yet not actually seeing it. He was just waiting for it to end and the chance to get away from this weirdness. He didn’t notice yours and Charlie’s silent yet rather animated conversation behind him, or the others looking at him like he was some new kind of crazy. He didn’t notice your loud sigh as you slumped down next to him, or the unsure looks you kept shooting him that slowly turned into determination. What he did notice though was your arm looping through his, your hand curling around his arm as you shifted closer to him. 

Lucifer was surprised his neck didn’t snap from how quickly it snapped to the side, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as he looked down at you with shock and bewilderment. You were nibbling at your bottom lip, ears turned down slightly and eyes fixed on Lucifers knee, looking very much like the innocent little lamb he often teased you about being. On the screen something exploded, the flash of light illuminating your eyes as you finally looked at him. Lucifer was captivated, trapped in their glow and oh how much he had missed this, having all your attention on him like he was the centre of your universe. You never took your eyes off him as you moved in close, leaning in so he would hear over the tv when you whispered, “is this ok?” Lucifer had barely managed to get out a yes around the lump of excitement that seemed to have formed in his throat. 

The smile you gave him was blinding but no where near as amazing of the felling of you leaning into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you turned your attention back to the tv. Lucifer continued to watch for a while, mesmerised by your ever-present smile and the way your eyes light up with the light from the tv. All his worries and fears about allowing himself this vanished the moment you had touched him because this felt right, like everything just clicked into place. And to think he almost missed out on this. With his own content sigh and smile Lucifer relaxed into it, one hand resting on your bent knee whilst he raised the other to cover your one that was curled abound his bicep. He let his head tip slightly, resting it against the top of yours and just enjoyed the closeness. He didn’t notice Charlie squealing behind him or Angel Dusts eye roll and mumbled “about damned time.” Lucifer was lost in his own little bubble of contentment and nothing short of an angel attack was going to change that. 

From then onwards Lucifer was an unstoppable force of wooing. He had no problem invading your personal space after that, nor did he mind getting his hands on you though he had been right, once he was allowed to touch Lucifer found it very hard not to and not to mention how all this innocent skin on skin contact was making him think about all the other less innocent touches he could be bestowing upon you. That had led to a few embarrassing moments where he had needed to excuse himself rather quickly to avoid you noticing what was happening. It also resulted in some rather pleasant dreams that he was always reluctant to wake from, knowing he would be left feeling disappointed and guilty when he finally opened his eyes.  

Complements came thick and fast as did the gifts though he had to admit he might have gone a bit overboard with some things. Like filling the entire hotel with white roses that smelt like freshly made popcorn or making every kind of food he could think of appear when you said you were hungry. In his excitement he might have forgotten about plates and Vaggie really hadn’t been too happy about the stack of pancakes that had ended up on top of her head. Though you had found it funny, using your fingers to scoop up some of the ice cream that was dripping down his face before licking it off your fingers. Lucifer had never really understood food porn before but that right here was enough to convert him. 

Other things had gone over better. Like a bottle of perfume that smelt like freshly cut grass, a crystal ball that swirled with the colours and patterns of a universe and your own personal rubber duck that Lucifer had spent weeks experimenting with so it would act like an actual duck, though he might have gotten it a little wrong because it had a few dog qualities that he hadn’t quite been able to get out. But hey, you had loved it, so Lucifer considered it a win, even if the thing growled at people every now and again. The first time he had seen you with the silly little thing perched on your head he had nearly combusted with how cute you had looked. He had taken what felt like thousands of photos, following you around the hotel and telling anyone and everyone you passed how adorable you were only to snap more photos as you blushed at his compliments. He would have been happy to continue just showering you with gifts and compliments, happy that he was making you happy, but it wasn’t quite enough. Lucifer wanted more and he wasn’t going to get that with expensive gifts and sugar sweet words. 

When he had been with Lilith, they had gone on the grand total of three dates and considering one of them was when she was still in the garden Lucifer didn’t really count it as an actual date because all they had done was sit next to a secluded lake and talk. It had been nice, real nice actually and from that one little date their relationship had blossomed and grown into something Lucifer would cherish for all eternity. It’s not exactly up to par with modern standards though and Lucifer really didn’t want to rehash his old material. It wouldn’t be fare to Lilith and it sure as hell wouldn’t be fare to you. You weren’t a replacement for his ex-wife and Lucifer really didn’t want you to ever think that was what this thing between the two of you was. So, he needed new material, something that was uniquely suited to you and guaranteed that you would say yes when Lucifer asked you to be his. 

The other rings were out considering you were a mortal sinner and couldn’t leave the pride ring. A shame really because they really did have some amazing restaurants and bars down in gluttony that he thought you might have enjoyed. It would have been nice to take you to Lu Lu Land, Lucifer able to show off his most successful creation, well second most successful next to Charlie. But just like gluttony that was out of the question. That left him with the rather nauseating thought of doing something in Pentagram city and that was a solid pass on his part because the city was a huge disgusting dumpster fire of nope full of psychopathic freaks that Lucifer would rather not have to deal with when he was trying to be all romantic and suave. 

It left him with a rather stressful dilemma, Lucifer locking himself away in his workshop as he tried and failed to come up with anything he thought was worthy of your time. It had him pulling at his hair and throwing his ducks around in frustration. This shouldn’t be this hard, mortals did it all the time and yet he couldn’t come up with anything better than afternoon tea in Cannibal Town because despite the fact it was full of flesh hungry sinners it was still the nicest part of this trashy city, he just didn’t think you would be a fan of being given finger sandwiches made from actual fingers. Groaning he had slumped forward, banging his head on his desk and mumbling about how he was “stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course she wouldn’t want to eat people, that’s gross and weird. Come on Luci, think, think, think.” With a headache forming and the sense of pathetic failure growing, Lucifer was saved in the form of a text from Charlie, asking for his help at the hotel. It was like a switch being flipped, the conversation he had with his daughter all those weeks ago coming back to him in full clarity. It was perfect, a plan already starting to form in his mind, and it was with a maniacal laugh that Lucifer snatched up his phone and called Charlie, roping her into his plans. 

It was a lot easier from then on, Lucifer knowing exactly what he wanted to make it perfect for you. Charlie was more than happy to help, even getting the other residents of the hotel to keep you busy so you wouldn’t notice what was going on. You weren’t stupid though and Lucifer knew that you had suspicions, especially when everyone was being a bit too obvious about keeping you away from him whenever you caught a glimpse of him around the hotel. It was worth it though, Lucifer proud of what he had managed to accomplish. All that was left now was to get you up there and woo the socks off you. 

Everyone played their part, pretending that Angel Dusts little piggy had run off and organising a search party to find it before that no-good Radio demon eat it. You were given the upper floors to search, including the roof and all Lucifer needed to do was wait patiently for you to find him and his surprise. Patiently lasted all of five minutes though and as the seconds ticked by he began nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet before giving in and pacing around the small space, muttering to himself the whole time about how it was taking you “so long. It’s just three floors you should be done by now. Maybe he should go and find you, speed things up a little.  No, no, no. The whole point is you’re supposed to be up here to surprise her Luci. What if you go down and she gets here before you find her and ruins the whole thing. Fuuuck. What to do. What to do.”  Just as he’s about to start pulling his hair out Lucifer hears it, the loud groan of the roof access stairs being pulled down. He quickly scrambles to get in position, fixing his hair and grabbing up the bouquet of red and white roses that fallen to the floor as his distress grew. He had taken off his jacket and hat, stashing them away along with his cain to go for a more casual look, a wide smirk plastered across his face as he tried not to bounce excitedly.

He heard you before he saw you, your mumbled complaints carrying up as you flung open the access hatch. You weren’t looking his way when you climbed out onto the roof, still muttering under your breath as you brushed dust and dirt off your clothes. Lucifer remained silent though, holding his breath as he waited for you to turn around and look his way. When you finally turned to him you gasped, hand flying up to cover your mouth as you stumbled back slightly. Lucifer laughed nervously, thrusting out the bouquet of flowers toward you and awkwardly greeting you with a “hey you.” You regained your composure quickly, smiling softly as you made your way over to him and tacking the flowers with a quick thank you. Lucifer stood there for a long few moments, his brain having come to a sudden hault as he watched you lift the bouquet up to smell the flowers. They weren’t real roses; you didn’t get flowers like that down here, but Lucifer had done his best to recreate them though he couldn’t really remember how they smelled so he had made the white one's smell like freshly made popcorn and the red ones like candy floss. You didn’t seem to mind, humming appreciatively as you stared back at him. 

You had pulled Lucifer out of his little daze by leaning to the side to look at the scene behind him, asking if “that’s what you’ve been up to all day?” Eager to show you what he had done Lucifer nodded, enthusiastically taking your hand and pulling you along with him. There was a large blanket on the floor, practically surround by a mountain of cushions and other blankets. There were more flowers, big vases of the roses with candy apples and fern leaves dotted throughout, with candelabras strategically places around the edges of the blanket to give the area a warm glow. He had champagne on ice, two glasses waiting nearby and several platters of food that could be easily picked up with their fingers. 

You gently placed the flowers you had been holding on the floor before sinking down onto the cushions, Lucifer following close behind and sitting close enough to you that your legs touched. Glasses of champagne were poured, food offered and the two of you slipped into easy conversation. It was surprisingly intimate, the sounds of the city nothing but a dull murmur in the background. From their advantage point they could see almost all of pentagram city, all the way from Imp City to Cannibal Town. Though all of Hell was his to rule this was Lucifers domaine and though it was quite literally on fire in some places he still wanted to show off how much power he had though knowing he was the King of Hell had never seemed to mean all that much to you.

As the evening went on and the champagne slowly disappeared the two of you got closer until Lucifer was leaning back against the cushions with you tucked up against his side, an arm draped over your shoulder as the two of you sat in silence and looked out across the city. It was comfortable, Lucifer felt comfortable, like himself for once but he knew he had to break the peaceful little bubble the two of you were in because he had a rather important question he needed to ask and if he didn’t ask it now, well, he wasn’t sure if he ever would. 

Lucifer put his mostly empty glass down before nervously clearing his through. That caught your attention and had you turning to look at him before he was ready. Whatever you saw on his face had you frowning, placing down your own glass so you could turn more fully to look at him. Lucifer could tell you were about to say something, but he couldn’t afford to lose his nerve, so he held up a hand to stop you, telling you that he “need to err ask you something?” So, what if it came out more like a question, at least he had managed to get it out. Your eyes widened slightly, ears twitching up and mouth forming an ‘o’. With a reassuring smile you took his hand in yours, nodding encouragingly and waiting for him to continue. 

Swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat, Lucifer glanced off to the side, tugging at the suddenly tight collar of his shirt. He felt your hold on his hand tightening, his eyes darting back to you and that look of reassurance and excitement that gleamed in your eyes. It was enough to calm his nerves and he placed his other hand over the tops of yours, taking a deep breath before asking that one little question that was sure to change his life regardless of the answer you gave. “Would you, like to date, me?” 

Your smile widened, stretching at your cheeks and looking almost painful. Freeing one of your hands from his you placed it on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently across it. Your voice is so soft but full of certainty and something Lucifer didn’t want to say was love, not yet anyway. It was a simple “yes Lucifer,” but it had his heart soaring like he was flying high above the city.  Lucifer couldn’t help but laugh, flinging himself forward and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He was so happy, couldn’t quite believe that you had said yes but still unapologetically happy that you had. You laughed with him, wiggling in his hold until you got your arms free, looping them around his neck. Lucifers grip tightened around your waist, pulling you in just that little bit closer. It meant that he had to tip his head back slightly to look you in the eyes but that wasn’t a hardship, especially not when you leant down, eyes darting to his lips then back up to his eyes. It was a silent question, one Lucifer answered by tipping his head back more, his eye closing and holding his breath as he waited for you to bridge the gap. 

Your lips were soft against his, just a gentle brush against his as if you were testing it out. Lucifer dug his fingers into the fabric of your dress, a content sigh passing from his lips to yours. That seemed to be the only permission you need because in the next second your lips were firmer, slow and confident as you traded one kiss after another. It was everything Lucifer had hoped it would be, as sweet as candy apples and just as addictive.

So lost in one another neither of you noticed that the access hatch was slightly open, or the two sets of eyes looking out from the darkness. You didn’t hear the muffled cheers or the even more muffled complaint about how “disgustingly lovey dovey those weirdos are going to be now? I guarantee ya, every five seconds they’re gonna be making cow eyes at each other and professing their love. I already feel sick just thinkin’ about…Ow! Watch the goods toots.” You didn’t see the rather annoyed radio demon down below twiddling his mic in his hands or Charlie sticking her head out of a window and gesturing upwards franticly. You didn’t hear him huff and roll his eyes or him waving his mic around until colourful explosions of light filled the sky behind you. The two of you were completely oblivious to the world around you, lost in the moment. 

Neither of you had thought this was how things would end up the first time you had met and though you were both aware that things wouldn’t be as easy as they seemed right now you were willing to take the risk. Sure, there would be ups and downs, things that would need addressing like Lilith and the wedding ring Lucifer still wore and the fact that you were a sinner, bound to the pride ring. There was the hotel and heaven to consider, not to mention all the threats from within hell. Those were all things to worry about latter though because for now, with you in his arms and his relationship with Charlie so much better than it had been Lucifer was happy and nothing could take that away from him. 

At least for now. 

@lxkeee

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x fem reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #lucifer magne #lucifer magne x fem!reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x fem!reader #lucifer x fem!reader #lucifer x female reader #lucifer x reader #reader insert #fem!reader

[roosterr]

white flag ✹ interlude

note: this chapter is a lil shorter than usual, I just wanted to include a lil bonding moment for reader and ghost before the events of next chapter :)

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: you and ghost go people watching in the local park, plus a little heart to heart

warnings: just some much needed fluff :)

ao3

【prev】 || 【next】

one warm shower and a couple of ibuprofen later, you're feeling mostly human again with a manageable headache and a reasonable amount of regret for how pathetic you’d acted. with time you’d get over that, especially now that ghost had finally seen the light and started treating you with some decency. admittedly though, his change in attitude threw you off earlier; you were bracing for a stern lecture and he essentially brushed it off as though it didn't matter, but you’ve decided not to dwell on that fact.

small victories, as they say.

for the very first time, the pair of you were both sitting across from each other at the tiny kitchen table, in your own worlds; the radio was faintly playing some classic rock station in the background as ghost had his nose in his book and you played some mindless game on your phone. you’d honestly prefer to be reading a good book too, but your collection was currently ash in the wind, so this would have to do.

you're tempted to try starting a conversation, the quiet was giving you far too much room to think, but on the other hand the atmosphere is so peaceful it would be a shame to ruin it.

so you set your phone down on the table and turn your eyes to ghost, watching him scan the pages, his head tilted slightly in concentration. he's washed most of the paint from around his eyes – that was probably done yesterday, not that you noticed – so only a few smudges mark his skin. with the black paint gone, you notice the raised bumps of old scars around his eyes, something you'd never paid much attention to before. you know better than to ask, but you do wonder, in the back of your mind, the stories behind all of them. examining them gives you inexplicable urge to run your fingers over them, to soothe the ache having so many of them must cause.

his dark eyes are like black holes, drawing in your attention and refusing to let you escape their grasp. you're vaguely aware of how long you've been staring at his face, but you don't care to snap yourself out of it until he speaks up.

"what?" he grumbles, not bothering to look up from the page. you quickly look away, down to where your hands idly fiddle with your phone on the table.

"question."

"hm?" he hums in acknowledgement, but still doesn't look at you. normally you'd give up at this point, assuming he was completely uninterested in what you had to say, but this time you decide to push your luck.

"you fancy a walk to the park?"

finally, he meets your eyes, looking up through his light eyelashes and blinking once as he contemplates his answer. you resist the urge to break eye contact as he stares right through you.

"...alright." he says, wedging his bookmark between the pages and sets the book down on the table.

you weren't expecting him to say yes, but you're pleasantly surprised that he did; it felt slightly surreal that after all this time, you were finally becoming friends with ghost. your eyes follow him as he stands, leaving the room to, presumably, change his mask while you sit there with a bewildered look on your face.

a minute or so passes before you hear his voice again. "you comin'?" he calls from the entryway, bringing you back to the present.

"oh– yeah, one second!" you jump up from your chair and rush to get ready as well. the grin you wore as you rushed past him to fetch your jacket was unconscious, the feeling lighting up your features and overshadowing and lingering thoughts from the night before.

a few moments later you're tugging your boots on and you're both walking out the door together, side by side. for once it's actually a nice day, so the short walk to the park is a pleasant one under the blue sky and warm sunlight.

"sorry again, for last night. i think that's gonna haunt me for the rest of my life." you look over to ghost with an apologetic expression, and you can't help but feel that the expression he gives back is one of amusement despite not being able to see half his face.

"that's twice you've screamed at me now." he says, keeping pace with you for a change rather than marching ahead as he usually does.

"i didn't scream at you!" you attempt to defend yourself, but thinking back on it you change your mind. "alright, the second time maybe i did,"

"maybe."

"but the first time, i was very collected." you continue. "it was quite satisfying, to be honest."

"i suppose i deserved it." his gaze falls to the ground and, even though he's right – he did deserve it – you do feel a little bad.

"seriously, though," you continue, "thank you, for looking after me last night. you didn't have to, and i know you didn't want to, but i really appreciate it."

"anyone would'a done the same…" he mutters, bringing a hand up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head. you get the feeling he's not used to people showing their appreciation for him, which only encourages you to carry on.

"and thanks for taking me in, i know having some random idiot in your house is the last thing you want." you give him a warm smile as he looks at you from the corner of his eye.

"well, you're not just any idiot, are you?" he says, earning a questioning tilt of your head. "you're sting. the idiot."

a genuine laugh escapes you, the first one in a long time, and you gently nudge ghost's arm with your elbow.

"oh, lovely, thanks mate." you chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. you see his eyes lift in a barely noticeable smile, the sight causing a warm feeling to bloom in your chest.

you arrive at the park fairly quickly, finding yourselves an out of the way bench to occupy under the partial shade of a nearby oak tree. you're enveloped by a comfortable silence as you both simply observe the beauty of nature and bask in the feeling of the sun on your face.

you're not sure how long the two of you sit there in each other's company, but you find yourself subconsciously drifting closer to him, close enough that your knees just about touch. you're sure he notices – there isn't much that gets by him – but he doesn't show it.

"did you hear they figured out how the fire started?" you keep your voice low to preserve the peaceful quiet, turning your head to look at him as you ask.

"oh yeah? how?"

"ugh…" you groan with the annoyance the memory bring up. "my stupid neighbour left a fucking candle burning all night, the twat."

"what a fuckin' idiot…" he glances briefly in your direction, a sympathetic frown on his face.

"i can never look at candles the same way again, they're tainted now." you drag a hand over your face and shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.

there's another pause in the conversation as you stare ahead, watching the trees sway in the breeze and all the people going about their lives, everything cast in a golden glow from sun.

you don't want it to end, the way the two of you are now. this is the most you've ever spoken to echother, outside of arguments, and you really want to make the most of it.

"nice weather today, right?" you try to keep him talking to you, and you're considering the fact that he hasn't told you to shut up yet as a good sign.

"hm." ghost hums and leans his head back, his eyes fluttering shut. "you gonna ask me what my favourite colour is again?"

"c'mon, throw me a bone here." you turn your body to face him more. "actually what is it, though?"

"...green."

"i knew it!" you exclaim, a triumphant grin pulling at your lips. "it makes sense, you just have 'dark green' vibes."

"i'll take your word for it."

it's difficult to know what to talk about with him, seeing as you've never actually been friendly before and you've already used the only small talk question you could think of.

"hmm…" your eyes roam over the park, looking for something to give you an idea. eventually you land on a scrappy little white dog, with possibly the worst haircut you've ever seen. "look at that woman's dog," you point it out to ghost, snickering at the way it was resisting its owner as she pulled it along. "i feel bad for the little guy."

"is that a dog? thought it was an oversized rat."

"oh my god!" you snort a laugh, covering your mouth with a hand and throwing your head back. you hear ghost chuckle lightly beside you, and when you turn your head to look back at him you find him already looking at you.

all other thoughts leave your mind when you see how his eyes glow a golden colour in the light of the sun. you feel the tips of your ears heating up and quickly face forward again before he has a chance to notice.

luckily another distraction presents itself almost immediately, in the form of a well-dressed office worker sprinting past you at full speed.

"wow," you mutter, your eyes following him as he disappears around a bend in the path, "he's not hangin' about."

"maybe he left a candle burnin'." ghost looks back to you, a playful glint in his eyes you're not sure you've ever seen on him.

you can't help the grin that pulls at your lips at his terrible joke. "aw, ghost," you groan, gently shoving him as he chuckles at your reaction, "you're wrong for that one."

ghost slouches into the bench as you both look back out across the park, shifting so his thigh presses against yours ever so slightly. you're careful not to react, afraid that he'd pull away if you draw attention to the gesture, and resolve to just enjoy the rare closeness of his presence.

eventually you'd have to head back, but for now you were more than content to sit here and watch the world go by with him.

taglist: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling

if your name is crossed out, it means i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry! ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes

[pursuitseternal]

“You had better tie me up, darling…” very nsfw (f*ck or die) update for Rogue Astarion in part 7 “Bites in the Night”

Astarion x F!Reader |E| 5.5K F*ck or Die Smut

Summary: He isn’t well… something he’s consumed… the blood of a Succubus in the heat of battle by mistake. He needs release… help… or else undead won’t be an accurate description of your vampire rogue any longer.

CW: rough sex, bondage, Sex Pollen Trope but blame those Succubi, feral rutting, blood kink (does that go without saying yet?), implied shared infection, tongue bath, raunchy and yet sweet confessions from his undead lips.

Read on AO3 | Series on AO3 | Master List

Better get your rope…

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Sunset always brought the demons out to play… and this time it had been real. Everything about the Shadow Cursed Lands fit the name… but you had all made it at last to the Last Light Inn.

Not without blood spatter and slaughter, fear and relief once victory over the Hellspawn was won.

Now at last, you can take your rest. In peace.

Most of your companions still drink and eat to their heart’s content. Of course, not your Rogue. After the fight, he had looked… gaunt. Tired. You had promised to come and let him feed, but first you needed your fill. He had flashed his smile at you before heading up the creaking stairs.

That was an hour ago. Now, you make your way to those same stairs, only to catch Shadowheart hustling down with wide eyes, Gale looking much the same as he follows.

“Come with us,” they whisper, leading you up the stairs in a hurry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, anxiety darking your tone.

“It’s Astarion, he’s… unwell.” Gale… always so vague and polite.

“He’s in a rut,” Shadowheart snips back, exactly. “Literally.”

“What?” you startle.

“During the fight, he must have bitten and drank Succubus blood.” Gale rubs his fingers at his temple. “He’s locked in his room, but I fear he will claw his way through the door until he finds… relief.”

“Sex, you mean?” you can’t help but correct him too.

“It’s bad,” Shadowheart presses her lips together. “The blood is ten times worse than the spittle. Like, if he doesn’t find relief soon he could expire. Again. It’ll last him a full day to work out of his system.”

Your eyes go wide, your stomach sinking as well as your jaw. “Isn’t there some countermeasure? Some spell or… or potion?”

Shadowheart opens her hands, a small scroll in it. “Not for him, but for…”

“Me…” you realize. Your body tingles with the idea, that heady mix of fear of death and thrill of fucking with him. It always swims in your system before you go to his bed, but this time. It feels… more… exhilarating. More deadly. Riskier.

“It’s a scroll of Greater Protection… just in case he gets carried away.” Gale’s face screws into a look of discomfort.

“Keep your cunny from giving out on you.” Shadowheart winks.

That sinches up the knots in your stomach now. And by the time your cleric recites the spell, the dust in the air swirling into your lungs, you know you can’t turn back. You can’t forsake him.

You take a breath once they both wish you good luck, reassurances that the spell should be enough to keep you safe… but that they would come running if needed. That’s when Shadowheart stops you one more time, behind Gale’s back. She makes her face shush you silently as she shoves something into your hands.

A coil of rope. It tingles… enchanted probably for extra strength… that it could hold a deranged, sex-crazed vampire if worse came to worse.

That’s when you head up another flight of stairs, your heart beating faster with each step. Especially as you hear the grunts and growls that crescendo as you reach the landing. It’s easy to tell which room is his, the light under the door burns bright… the sounds of his voice raw and feral…

You hover your hand over the knob, sensing the magic that’s sealed him in. But you stop… that sound inside, you can tell already how he’s plagued. Rough, wet, and fast. The slap of his own hand tending to his… need.

You swallow, the beating of his fist on his cock already making you wet. Hells below… if there wasn't part of you that was just… tantalized. A small part, mostly cloaked in that heady fear to preserve your life.

But you feared no danger. And you by now… he would listen.

Maybe.

One last squeeze of the chord in your hand, you gripped the charged metal of the door, throwing it open.

He is naked, sitting on the edge of the bed at the back of the little room. His teeth glint in the firelight, his ivory skin glowing with sweat. Gods, if he had blood in his body, you are sure he would be beet red. His profile cut like the masterpiece he was. His throat bobbing as he swallows, the muscles of his arm bulging as he pleasures himself at a terrifying pace.

The sound as you shut the door behind him finally draws his attention.

He is… wild. Feral. Eyes so dilated, you can barely make out the ring of scarlet in them. His face shines from his exertions, he growls… like an animal… the second he sets eyes on you. His nose sniffing so hard at your scent… you can watch it open and close.

“Out!” He snarls, rising to his feet. That’s when you take in the full extent of his… suffering. He’s so erect, bigger than you have ever seen him. Harder. Throbbing so hard you witness it… where it stands almost vertically. Those intricate veins that usually rise subtly from his length strain dark, a web over his pale skin. “I’ll not hurt you, darling. Not you. Get out! I won’t have you!” He snaps his jaws. Every muscle in his body straining as he stands in place.

As if he’s fighting with himself.

“You will have me,” you snap back. “You don’t have a choice, do you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Not if you want to keep yourself in this realm. Undead you might be, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you alive… undead…”

That made him smile. Dark, wicked and still slightly manic. But it was there.

His eyes rake down your body, devouring you as he dares to let himself take one step. His eyes fall to your hand, the tangle of rope hanging visibly at your side. “Seems someone had the wisdom to not to send you in here defenseless and you stink of protective magic. Good,” he shudders as he talks. That voice sounding hollow. Pressed. Barely above a snarl. “I haven’t said this to many… but you had better tie me up, darling…”

He groans, forcing his body to move stiffly to the bed. The wood frame creaks and cracks as he crawls in, his rigid frame laying down.

That erection makes your mouth water, despite the obvious agony your vampire is enduring. But you can’t help but be mesmerized by how tall it stands as he pants on the bed. You cross to him, he can’t look at you, holding his hands out for you to bind.

Your hands work quickly, securing his arms firmly together, wrapping them to the scrollwork of the headboard.

His breathing is rough, ragged. His body twitches, shuddering each time your fingers barely grazie his arms and wrists. “Please,” he groans. “If you’re going to do this, then by the hells do it!”

His eyes are wide as he strains to look at you.

Your body aches, sympathy pains twitch down your spine to watch him quivering on the sheets. Your skin feels hot, your own body breaking into a sweat. He’s licking his lips, “Gods, if you go any slower getting something on this cock of mine, I can’t promise your safety, darling…”

You reach for that straining length, the second you wrap your fingers around it, he throbs and groans and twitches. His hips bucking into your hand, legs propped up so he can fuck anything you can get around his cock. You beat against his thrusts, that hardness unrelenting even as you move quicker than you usually do. Looking into his face, you move even faster, his face contorted in agony, his teeth biting so hard into his lips he’s bleeding.

He thrusts and groans and cries as he comes. Spurts of his seed drip down his shaft, coating his already damp lap, trailing milky streams as far as his belly.

But his breathing eases for a moment, his muscles softening just a bit perceptively. And Astarion gives a single contented sigh. “All that with just your hand. You little minx… pacing yourself?” he purrs. “Won’t you at least kiss me hello?”

You give him a small grin, at least he sounds like himself. His eyes are a bit more focused, his voice a bit more silken.

What harm could one kiss do?

You lay alongside him, pressing your lips to his.

The moment you touch, you can feel it, the heat, the lust, and the agony roaring full force through his veins. He’s straining on his bonds, trying to claw you into him. His mouth consumes you, sucking your lips inside his mouth, drawing them deep enough for him to bite. The tang of blood covers your tongue. And his.

He’s frenzied for more, biting you again and again. Drinking the blood that leaks from your kiss. Then you feel it, his legs, untethered, grip around your waist, sliding you to cover his naked, throbbing body. “Astarion!” you cry, muffled by his mouth. But he has you pinned between his thighs. Not unlike that first day in the wreckage.

His erection presses into your belly, he’s grinding it against the linen of your shirt. Rough and aggressive. As if he means to tear a hole in the soft fabric. He keeps you there, humping and riding into your abdomen. Grinding against your mound. Sucking and drinking your kiss as long as you let him.

Not that you have much of a choice, caught in his legs. “Easy,” you breathe, managing to steal your mouth back for the moment. “Easy…” you soothe again, making your body bear down against where he dry fucks against you.

“There is nothing I have in mind to do to you that would be easy…” he hisses. His voice almost sounds… not of this realm. And you press out of the clutches of his fangs. But he just raises his head higher, eyes crazed at the sight of the wounds he’s made on your bleeding and split lips.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you catch his throat under your palm. “It’s for your own good.” You feel his breath rasp, the ragged swallows of spit under your palm.

“The minx has claws…” he growls as you keep his head down.

“Only when you make me use them, Astarion,” you smirk. “Now, if you can keep your mouth to yourself, I’d be more than happy to put mine to other uses.”

“Gods, yes,” he moans. “It’s unbearable, the lust, the need to drive into you. Please put me out of this agony, darling. Please…”

The second you wrap your lips around that fleshy, pulsing head, his cock twitches out of your reach. With a smile and a lick of your tongue, you grip his straining, iron length, holding it steady as you run from base to bulging tip. The bitter tang of his cum fills your mouth. Making you swallow. Making you realize just how used to it you will be before the day of this torment is through.

You manage to still him enough with his squirming and bucking to get your mouth around him. Gods, it’s like stone in your mouth, every vein dragging over your tongue and you suck. You manage to bob your head up and down, avoiding the way he’s thrusting to get more of him down your throat.

The noises from his throat sound pained… agonized panting for more. “That’s it…” he’s hissing as you swirl your tongue around that ridge of his head. “Gods, do that again.” You do, laughing in your throat as you run your tongue over that seeping slit in his tip… so tight as you lap the stains of his cum. You feel it under your hand that works the base of his cock, that thickening, quickening spasm.

He howls, jamming his length into your pursing lips. And this time, you let him. His seed spills down your throat, spurting over your tongue and dripping in your cheeks. More with every pulse as he slowly begins to still again.

One last suck, you swallow him down. Greedily. Wondering if that succubus magic isn’t somehow in your system too. It’s heady, intoxicating. The way he’s glaring at you with his flame-kissed, glistening sweaty face.

But for now, he’s calmer. For now. “Darling…” he’s sighing as he tries to ease into the bed. “You… didn’t have to do this, you know. It’s still such a risk… if I didn’t… care for you… who knows how much of your body would be in one piece when this finally passes.”

“Oh I’m sure I’d leave in one piece… but maybe mostly bloodless and unable to walk straight…” you laugh leaning over him, placing a kiss on his dampened lips.

He slips his tongue in right away, searching for the taste of him in your mouth. He growls again, that throbbing suffering of lust raging beneath his skin again. “I want to see you,” he snarls. “I want to take you naked this time, my pet.” You shiver at the echo of pure desire in his silken voice. As if it doesn’t always drip with seduction. This… you shiver. This was even more wild, unchecked, feral. The need to rut. To fuck.

He looks at you with those heavy-lidded eyes, so dark with his lust, his attraction for you, you feel your own arousal dripping between your thighs. He purrs,“I want to be inside you, darling…”

Your hands couldn’t tug your clothes off fast enough, cursing the practicality of breeches. At last, you stood as he wished. Bared. Ready.

You scramble on the bed, throwing your legs around him. He seems… steadier. Still harder than rock, but less desperate. He strains against his binds, wriggling his lean and wiry body beneath you. So beautiful, every etched line of his muscles, every rise of his stomach, every vein that protrudes in his arms.

You caress him, once on his chest. So damp with sweat. Running your tongue up the center of those muscles, he shivers. The salt of his body makes your mouth water again.

“Hells, are we sure you haven’t ingested the same as me, my sweet?” He croons with a soft little laugh. “Or is this just all for me, darling, to ease my suffering.”

“To keep you alive? I’d do so much more than just lick the sweat from your body,” you taunt back, your voice so low and sultry, you barely recognize it.

He flashes his fangs at you, licking his lips. “Like slipping that sweet cunt on me? Riding me until you are dripping again?”

Ugh… you moan. “Yes,” you pant, “like that.”

The moment he feels your drenched folds hover over his cock, he spears into you. He screams at your union. “Sweet hells,” he groans, voice rasping and sore. “Yes, darling, give me everything. I can take it all…”

You lean over him, your hair cascading down in a curtain as you splay your hands on either side of his head. Barely brushing against his damp, unruly silver locks. You give the smallest rise of your body, the steadiest drag of your walls around his cock. He cants his hips beneath you, timing just right to shove up into your cunt as you settle back down.

A chorus of groans escape you both. He’s sputtering, “Please, darling, again,” over and over. Each time you give him what he wants, only to have him careening up into you harder. Begging for you to go faster.

Soon, your pace is breakneck, your own body shimmering in sweat as you buck and writhe and groan.

His eyes never blinking, those dark black pupils are wide as he watches your face twisting as you chase your own climax, flickering to the swaying of your breasts as they slap together each time you fuck him. They dart to watch where you are joined, where his stiffening cock pierces between your thighs, drenched in his cum and your arousal with every loud, squelching slap you make.

He’s merciless, finally hitching his hips to drive the hardest into you yet. You feel it when he comes inside you now, the sheer volume of his spew, hot and dripping from inside those walls where he’s buried in deep. Your belly aches from where he’s hammering against the end of your channel. More cum with each twitching spurt you feel. He screams like one wounded, his orgasm drawn out as you chase your peak yet. But he’s panting beneath you, catching his breath as he licks his lips.

Even more limp this time.

You’re relieved in your heart, even if your loins ache from the friction, the need to still release your own bliss. His brows furrow, his lips pouting as he looks into your eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” you gasp, even as your arms quiver and your thighs shake with the need to continue.

“No,” he squirms and tugs at the tethers. “Infernal rope. If you just let me free, I swear I’ll make it up to you…”

Your mouth waters. He would probably just find a way to break it or chew through that rope if he had to. A smirk plays across your lips, leaning forward to reach your knots. His cock slips out from inside you as you do, making him groan again.

The rope tugs apart in your fingers. Instantly his hands pull free, he shoves you over his face, so close already as you lean forward. He growls, his tongue slipping into your folds. His hands claw into your, gripping at the backs of your knees, spreading you wider as he eats into your cunt with all the hunger you feel raging in his body.

Starving, he feasts on you, and it takes all your strength to hold yourself up, hands splayed on the mattress over his head. That swirl of his tongue… that sucking of his lips on your clit, you already creep closer and closer to that swirl of heat simmering ready to consume you. It sweeps through you, cresting and tearing from your core up your spine.

And then, the world spins. His arms clutch around your legs, throwing you over. You're screaming, still spasming and clenching around nothing. Until your back is sprawled on the bed… until he’s shoved his cock into the last dregs of your orgasm. It makes you whimper his name once more, until you feel another spasm ripping through you.

Only this time, he’s pounding into you, thrust by thrust. Giving you something long and hard and cold splitting you in two as you go limp beneath him. His mouth descends on yours, sucking your breath from your body even as he traps your lips, your tongue with his own.

Manic, driven, he fucks you like one possessed, eyes wide as he finally pins you beneath him. Having his way with you as he chases that required release.

You lay back, still swollen and numb from your pleasure. But he is nowhere near close, not as his hands claw down your side, latching around your legs to make you wrap around his narrow waist. “Gods, you’re so tight, so wet… there have been none like you, darling. None I have wanted as badly as you.” He growls, fingers reaching around the backs of your ass, clamping into your cheeks. He raises you just enough to drag his length all the deeper. Making you keen and mewl and sputter incoherently.

Every nerve in your body hums, every patch of pleasure between your thighs feels him inside you. Gods, if it wasn’t for that scroll, you are certain you would pass out, lying there unconscious while he works this tainted blood from his own body.

By using yours.

By using you.

It makes you smile. Twisted and delighted to be so at his disposal. You were used to his fangs in your neck, his cock plowed into your cunt and his hips clenched between your thighs… but this…

This was intoxicating. Unbridled, unihibited fucking.

For his own sake of course.

That tainted blood and its magic being burned up with each time he filled you to bursting with his seed.

And as if his fixated eyes, hazy with his lust, can read your thoughts, he groans as he thrusts the harshest into you yet. So deep and hard and wild, you wriggle and claw against him as if you could shove him away from where he prods at the end of your cunt. But he only laughs. A laugh swallowed up as he is thrown off by another climax, another spilling of his cum that runs down your body and sticks to your skin. He pants as he looks straight into your face, manic and depraved.

“By the time this is through, your belly will swell from me, won’t it, darling? So filled with my cum, gods, you’ll be leaking for a week. For a fortnight.” He kisses into your neck, your body shivering at the chill of his breath on your skin. “And I’ll have the pleasure of smelling it, of remembering every time you took it so well, darling. I’m so very pleased…”

You look at him, half lidded and panting as he lifts his mouth from your flesh. “As I am…” you hum, running your hands up the ridges of his back, over those mysterious lines of Infernal, to thread your fingers into his damp silver hair.

He purrs as he kisses your lips, a sigh of his satisfaction as he tangles his tongue with yours. You taste yourself still in his mouth. Always so hungry, he is. It makes you wonder… “Aren't you going to beg me to feed, Astarion?”

“Hmm, if the offer is on the table, I’d love nothing more than to sup on… all… that you have to offer…”

He slowly slinks down your body. Your breath quickens, heart racing as he wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs. “Sweet hells, you're going to…”

The lap of his tongue up your seam again unravels you immediately. Your hands fly into his hair, pushing him away and pulling him deeper into your cunt with equal measure. You don’t know which you want more. He’s feeding on you, humming in delighted pleasure as he licks his cum from your folds, his eyes gazing up into your face as you pant and watch. Mesmerized by every dart and swirl of his pink tongue.

He licks his lips, “There is only one thing sweeter than the taste of us,” he purrs, low and deep in his throat, before he laps in a long, wet streak up your thigh. “Your blood, darling, my first living blood, and the last I ever want to drink in the realm…”

Your heart skips a beat, his words sweetening the pain of his bite into your thigh’s supple flesh. “Yes, love, yes,” you feel the wave of your joining… your connection by blood as you now fill him as he has filled you.

“That’s why I call you my sweet, you know… my little treat. None I have tasted… nothing comes close to how your blood sings in my veins like the way your body trembles beneath me.”

He bites you again and again up and down your thigh… little nips of his fangs, making blood drip down the softness of your skin as he licks every tiny trickle.

And all the while, he growls hungrily as he feeds.

It isn’t pain that fills you… not even pleasure. It is pure rapture. Pure bliss that rides up and down your spine. His fingers slowly, languorously curling into your folds, catching on that secret spot just inside that he knows so well.

“You’ve been so generous,” he purrs, letting the low rumbles of his voice shake into your already throbbing folds. “So good to help me through this. Giving me everything.” He glances up from between your thighs, pure wicked delight on his handsome face. “Well, I hope you haven’t given me everything. I think this tainted blood is going to take much, much more before it’s through…”

He pauses his sweet words to circle your clit, sucking it hard in time with the pulsing of those long, cold fingers inside you.

“You will come for me again, won’t you?”

You can’t even get a word in before he builds you to bursting. Driving you to shatter on his hand, under his mouth, as that voracious tongue laps at the arousal that spills from you. Your world spins, nothing but his touch on your skin, his fingers still clenched deep in your cunt.

You’re floating, limp as your muscles flood with warmth and pleasure. Steadied only by the bed at your back and the little sucks of his lips and the wet passes of his tongue over the blood on your thighs.

“Mmm,” he hums as he draws himself up to sit between your outstretched legs. “Every time with you is just perfect. And not just because it’s chasing the devil from my veins, you know…”

He shifts over you, dragging that heavy, cold, unyielding body across your skin. Making you shiver. Spasm. Making you reignite with desire for more of him again and again. That knee… that wicked, provocative knee… it creeps beneath yours to hook you, to spread you wide again as he glides his cock through the mess of your unions already drenching you.

“Seems you still have some of the devil in you, needing to be driven away, hmm?” you flirt, trying to maintain some composure, until he grinds against your already overstimulated folds, your aching clit, reducing you to nothing but moans and spasm.

And he laughs. “Why, my darling, it seems your body is as raging as mine.” His hands stroke against your cheek, fingers teasing their tips into your errant strands of hair that stick to your face. “Why, if I didn’t know better, I would have thought you were the one infected, if I didn’t still have this raging erection needing release…”

You catch him by surprise, buckling your knees around his waist, the wetness of your cunt almost drawing him inside you as you buck against him.

He groans, just a little thrust of his hips and he’s sheathed, so deep and already pulsing with that tainted, blinding need to fuck again.

You giggle, watching his eyes darken, his lids lowering to gaze with all the raging lust in his body upon the one he desires. The only one. As he is yours. You sigh, running your hands up those intricate scars of his back, “I am infected too, you know. Infected by my need for you, perhaps.”

His kiss descends to cover your lips, but it is one of tenderness. Longing. Unsated need softened by the affection that brims in the way he takes you this time.

He is slower, deliberate. Each thrust an offering of adoration for your body. Each drag of his cock inside your folds an expression of his gratitude, his devotion.

His proclamation that you are, in fact, perfect.

Your body rides his, melting into every motion your legs tight around his narrow waist, his arms slinking around your shoulders, pressing your face into the broadness of his shoulder. You gasp against his neck, wrapped in his pleasuring of you, as if you could pull him into your very being more.

That rhythm, that rocking, it begins to sweep you away, binding you to his body. Claiming you for his own. That same fever crawls in his veins as he clutches at you, that tempo increasing harsher. Faster. Until he’s groaning with all his feral drive again.

He pulls out from you, only to slam himself into your cunt, every inch of that long, pulsing length of his filling you to bursting.

He can’t take his eyes off you, raised up in his hands now. His crimson glare consumes your every reaction, every twitch and grin and grimace of painful bliss that he commands from you. Pummeling into you over and over again, your hands claw into his shoulders, slipping down his back to savor the feeling of every undulation of his hips into your core.

“So good… so perfect…” he purrs, ravenous in his gaze, “my only blood… my living blood…” the hard lines of his body ride over every nerve in yours. Your body burns. On fire. Consumed. His words tingle in your ear, caressing your heart that raps in your chest, pattering in time with his merciless thrusts.

It’s brutal, it’s unrelenting.

It’s wonderful. The sliding of his sweat soaked body over yours, your skin flaming and damp. “Hells,” you groan as that thick head of his cock presses and drags over that sweet spot in your channel. “Astarion…” you moan his name, almost incoherent aside from all he is.

“Mmmm darling,” he rasps, “no sweeter sound than my name on your lips… well,” he hums giving you thighs and extra hard slap that squelches with all your sweat and arousal, “aside from the way your body sounds as you take me over and over again so eagerly…”

Your eagerness peaks, your body ripping in two around the rapid plundering inside you. You sputter his name again, a moan that tears from your throat, a scream that makes his handsome face twisting in ecstasy as he rams hardest yet, pulsing and hitching and forcing his eyes to stare as you unravel. Sopping and drenched, the warmth of your fresh slick mingles with his, coating your thighs and his as it seeps from where you couple.

He groans, dropping his weight on you, blanketing you in his scent and sweat and panting frame. He places his damp forehead against your cheek, his cool breath making you shiver as he finally seems to relax. Even if his cock is still hardened and buried inside you.

You feel the rigid planes of his body slipping across yours with every one of your combined breaths. Signing in relief, you relish just how dirty you feel.

How dirty you’ve been.

“Once this has worked its way from your system, you will need to bathe me,” you pant. Your fingers linger and stray through the damp and sweaty curls of silver that stick to his face.

“That can be arranged…” those eyes, that face suddenly twisting again with all the depravity he still has simmering under his skin and in his mind. “Or would you settle for my tongue instead, darling?”

You shake your head, face bright, amused and skeptical. “As if you could accomplish that without bending me over in your state…”

“Mmmm,” he nuzzles against you, tilting his face to run the cold, damp pad of his tongue up your jaw. Laughing as you tremble. “You assume I could accomplish such a feat as resisting your charms without this suffering of tainted blood…”

He slips his cock from inside you, and you moan into his mouth, turning to bring that taunting smirk against your lips. Just for a moment kissing him, before he returns to lapping and caressing your sweat soaked cheek. You sigh with relief, stretching your legs, clenching them together to relieve the throbbing of your muscles.

And this was with that magical healing to sustain you.

You shake your head, in amused, affectionate irritation. Feeling his still erect cock beginning to rub against your hip. His tongue darts across your neck, the unvoiced question in the deliberate lapping and dragging of his fangs on your flushed and pulsing neck.

“For the love, please,” you pant, arching into him with your feverish body, your lust still matching his each time it rises, even as your muscles and marrow scream for reprieve. “Just a bit of rest, love, surely that tainted blood’s hold on you is lessened…”

“But what of your hold on me, hmm?” he rasps into the rapid pulse of your neck. “What if it’s not the succubus whose magic has consumed me, driven me mad and feral, making me no more than a rutting beast…” he gives that low throated giggle. “Your fault, you know, my sweet.”

You breathe heavily, aroused and exhausted in equal measure. “I take full blame,” you laugh weakly, “but it’s only because you’re so beautiful…”

“And witty… and passionate…” he adds a roll of his hips as he utters that last word, grinding that still hardened cock against your side.

“Just… a breath,” you plead. “Just a moment. You don’t seem to be so near death’s door now…”

“I’ll try not to take offense at that barb, given how good you’ve been and how much I’ve fucked you senseless,” he chides.

You laugh again, a bit of a whine in your voice. “Can’t you take care of just one by yourself…”

He murmurs in your ear. “Darling, I’ll take my pleasure from you in every way, in every hole, until this tainted blood is burned up in the blaze of my lust for you,” he groans, “or until I’ve completely exhausted you, leaving you spent and heaving. And then I’ll simply seek my own pleasure just at the sight of you sleeping.”

You stretch, clenching your whole body hoping for that release and rest. If he lets you have it for a moment. “Mmmm, well love, sounds like I’ll really need that bath in the morning any way you come at it…”

He giggles again. Naughty. Dirty. His hand now wrapped firmly around his cock, rubbing for himself, letting it beat against your skin softly. “Oh… I’ll come at it, don’t you fret… darling.”

#astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x f!reader #reader x astarion #fuck or die #sex pollen #but let’s blame the succubus blood #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion #vampire rogue #astarion romance #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #bg3 smut #bg3 spoilers #baldur’s gate iii #baldursgate3 #baldurs gate smut #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate

[strwbrrymlkjh]

alhaitham x gn!reader

entering a romantic relationship with alhaitham the scribe was one thing but expecting, hoping, to maintain that kind of relationship with alhaitham the acting grand sage was another. or alhaitham asks for another chance.

tags: texts in italics are flashbacks. POV changes. angst, neglected reader, lack of communication, mention of alcohol consumption, inaccurate lore, i have no idea what alhaitham does as the acting grand sage, maybe ooc, not proofread

wc: 2.2k

AO3

An unmistakable mop of silver hair greets you as you make your way through the hallway of your tenement. Sensing your presence, the figure turned his head to your direction and locked eyes with you. The intensity behind those familiar green eyes instantly rooted you to your spot. One look at his face was enough to bring back the painful memories you tried so hard to bury for the past month.

°

Entering a romantic relationship with Alhaitham the Scribe was one thing but expecting, hoping, to maintain that kind of relationship with Alhaitham the Acting Grand Sage was another.

Ever since his reluctant acceptance of the position of Acting Grand Sage, you rarely saw your boyfriend at home. In fact, you barely see him at all. You understand that he was preoccupied with rebuilding Sumeru and the Akademiya, yet you cannot help but miss his presence; the slow mornings where he would enjoy the cup of coffee you prepared for him, the peaceful afternoons that you would spend together reading in your living room, the dinners filled with pleasant conversations as you recounted your day. You miss him.

The sound of your front door closing jolted you awake from your nap. Sitting up from your spot on the couch, you greeted your boyfriend who just arrived home.

“Alhaitham. Welcome home.”

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“I was reading, actually. I just closed my eyes for a second, and then dozed off, I guess.” You responded, chuckling weakly.

“I recall telling you not to wait for me.”

“I know, but -” I miss you. You cannot bring yourself to tell him. He was already burdened enough as is, and the last thing you would want to do is to add to his worries.

He sighed and offered his hand for you to take. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

°

“Haitham, are you free tomorrow? It’s been a while since we visited the Grand Bazaar."

“I apologize Y/N, but I cannot come with you. I still have to review these research projects in need of funding.” He gestured to the thick bundle of papers that littered his desk.

You offered him a smile. “Alright. We can always do it next weekend.”

°

“I think I can make it in time for dinner tonight.” Is what he said.

You have no idea how long you sat in your dining room waiting for him. The food you prepared was now sitting cold at the table. Glancing at the clock, you felt a sad smile tug at your lips. Another missed dinner. You let out a heavy sigh as you started clearing away the plates you carefully arranged hours ago.

Alhaitham is a very busy man, and with everything that’s going on in the Akademiya, you knew better than to ask him to do things you used to do together.

At this point, the growing list of broken promises were too many to count.

Soon enough, all the pleasant dinners turned into late night meals eaten alone and the once warm bed became your only witness of the cold nights and the silent mornings you endured on your own.

°

After what felt like an eternity of staring at each other, he took a cautious step towards you.

“Y/N.”

Pretending you didn’t hear him, you bit the inside of your cheek and fished for your apartment keys inside your bag.

Once again, you hear Alhaitham call out your name.

You are certain that if you bite any harder, you would draw blood, but it was the only way to keep your barely composed façade from cracking.

A warm hand held your wrist as you were about to unlock the door. Startled, you pulled away as if burned. You rubbed the area, a nervous habit.

Even at a distance, you wouldn’t miss how the light left Alhaitham's eyes after seeing your reaction to his touch. The apology was at the tip of your tongue - you did not mean to pull away, you were just surprised, you wanted to tell him.

Your gaze traveled from his crestfallen face to his disheveled hair, sunken cheeks and the out-of-place cape. Looking at him now, you are certain that nobody would be able to tell that the man before you is the intimidating Acting Grand Sage of the Akademiya.

Despite yourself, you wanted to reach out and touch his face, card your fingers through his hair, wipe the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You clenched your fist at your side to stop yourself.

A month ago, you left your shared apartment with a promise not to get pulled by his gravity again. You feel your resolve falter now that you’re in his orbit.

Green eyes met yours once more and you felt your cheeks heat up. You averted your gaze and headed for your apartment door.

“Wait, Y/N. Please. Can I talk to you? Ten minutes. No. Five. Five minutes is enough. Please, I just need to tell you something.”

You stopped in your tracks. The desperation that laced his voice reminded you of the moments when you had to fight for even a minute of his time.

°

“It was one date Y/N.” Alhaitham reasons out. “Do not make it a huge deal.”

You turned to him, a look of indignation on your face. “One date? It’s our anniversary Alhaitham. Is it really too much to ask for one dinner with you?” You exclaimed. “I looked like a fool. No, I felt like a fool waiting for you to show up. You did not even think about telling me that you couldn’t make it.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose before turning to you. “I apologize, but you are well aware that I have more pressing matters to attend to at the Akademiya.”

You did not think that your heart could break any further. You have known it for a while now; his duty always comes first.

°

Alhaitham knew that he did not have the right to be here and his presence was likely to hurt you. It was nothing new, he thought grimly. It seems that that was all he has ever done these past few months - cause you pain.

He unintentionally drove you away and now he was here, consumed by regrets yet filled with determination to do better. That is, if you give him a chance to do so.

It seems the odds are against him as he watches you rub the wrist he touched. It was one of your nervous habits. It could also be that you were trying to erase the lingering feeling of his skin making contact with yours, a voice whispered in his head.

You stood unmoving after he practically pleaded you to hear him out and it was enough to give him a sliver of hope.

He cleared his throat. “Have you been well?”

“You came here to ask me that?” You responded, the disbelief evident in your tone.

“No. I mean -” He closed his eyes tightly, willing his headache to go away. The lack of sleep was getting to him. This was not how he wanted this to go.

Gathering the will to speak again, he continued, “You weren’t answering my letters and I simply wish to know how you have been faring.”

No, these were half-truth, excuses. If he really wanted to earn another chance, he should start with being honest with you, with himself. So, he said, “I am sorry. I wanted to see you. I missed you, Y/N.”

The silence that followed his statement was deafening. He watched you study his face before he heard you ask, “Are you drunk?”

“I did have a couple of glasses at the tavern, yes. But I assure you, I am completely aware of what I am doing at this moment.” He answered honestly. “I am the worst, aren't I? I do not even have the courage to face you sober.” He bowed his head, a weak smile tugged at his lips. “Sorry, I’m just - I really am sorry.”

“Is that the reason why you’re here? To share your newfound drinking habits?” You responded coldly.

“No, I do have my reason.” He raised his head to look at you behind his blurry eyes and the sight took his breath away. “But … were you … were you always this beautiful?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. Though, it was not the alcohol speaking. It was the truth. The sun was setting behind you and it bathed you in its glow, casting a halo around your head.

He felt himself struggle for a silent breath as he took his time taking you in. “You are so beautiful, my love." The term of endearment hangs between the both of you.

You shook your head. “You’re drunk, Alhaitham.”

“I’m not.” He insisted. “I’m not. It’s just … I can’t believe I hurt someone this beautiful so deeply.” And in a quieter voice, as if talking to himself, he whispered, “I’m such a fool.”

He knows he cannot win you back like this; not with flowery words and praises of your beauty. Still, he wanted to tell you that and many other things he was not able to.

Panic welled up inside him as you shook your head and unlocked your door. Chasing after you, he had half the mind to hug you from behind to stop you from leaving. But he knew he shouldn't push his luck right now, if your reaction earlier is anything to go by.

"Y/N, please."

You turned to him. "Then, enough with the nonsense Alhaitham. Just say what you have to say and leave." Your tone was calm but he heard the slight tremble in your voice. Even now, he was hurting you without meaning to.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he said, "What I wanted to say is that I am sorry. I know I have countless things to apologize for and I … I cannot express how sorry I am. The word 'sorry' is not good enough." He looked down, ashamed of himself, a Haravatat scholar not having the right words to convey his intentions.

He wanted so badly to tell you how much he regrets taking you for granted and to let you know that since you left, all he could think about is you. Even when he somehow manages to stop doing so, everything he looks at seems to hold a piece of you and you invade his thoughts once more, as if you never left in the first place.

Your favorite mug sitting untouched in the kitchen cupboard reminds him of the coffees you used to make for him. The books gathering dust at his study bring back memories from when you would sit beside him, warm body pressed against his as you read your own books. The bed which was too big for one person makes him think about how lonely you must have been, spending those cold nights and silent mornings alone.

He lays awake at night in that same bed, haunted by the defeated look in your eyes the day you decided to end your relationship, or what's left of it. You were tired of fighting for a place in his life, you said.

The logical part of him argued that you were both better off this way. As long as he was the Acting Grand Sage, he knows that he cannot be the man you need, the man you deserve.

But here he was, hoping that you would still have him, because there's no one else for him but you.

"I - I am so sorry." He has no idea how many times he has uttered that word now. "For taking you for granted, for not fighting for you, for letting you go so easily. Y/N, I love you so much. I don't think it's possible for me to love anybody else." He confessed.

His hands itched to wipe the tears that streamed down your face. Gauging your reaction, he took a tentative step forward. "I know that I have no right to ask this from you, but Y/N … can you let me stay by your side again?"

°

Your heart was racing, everything around you was spinning. Contradicting thoughts were swimming inside your head - you wanted to say yes because you still love him, but at the same time, you wanted to push him away because you're afraid of getting hurt again.

You did not notice the tears freely cascading down your face until a hand wiped them away. Looking up at him, you said, “I don’t know Alhaitham. With the way things are between us …” You trailed off.

He reached for your trembling hand and brought it to his lips. “I never stopped loving you, even if my actions made you think otherwise. Let me prove it to you.”

Seconds pass without any response from you, Alhaitham speaks again, "You do not have to give me an answer now. Take all the time you need. I can wait." His grip on your hand tightened before letting go. “You should go inside now. It’s getting late.”

You nodded absentmindedly. He took a step back and you instantly missed the warmth that his body has to offer. You stepped inside your apartment, but for some reason, you cannot close the door while he is still there.

“Thank you for hearing me out. I meant every word I said, Y/N. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

thank you so much for reading! comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated ♡♡♡

#genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #alhaitham #alhaitham angst #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #genshin #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #tags are hard

[absurdthirst]

A Marriage of Convenience {Regency!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 20.5k

Warnings: Dying parents, arranged marriages, mentions of dying in child birth, fear, anxiety, panic attacks, poor Pero has PTS, virgin reader, vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), conversations about birth control, mentions of spousal beatings, pregnancy, childbirth

Comments: When your dying father sends you to Spain to wed Don Tovar, you know nothing about the man besides that he is a widower with two small children who will never love you. Finding your place in his household will take a stiff spine and a loving heart, making peace with your marriage of convenience.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Father, you cannot send me away.” You shake your head, dread welling in your stomach and you press your hand to the silken material of your day dress, the stays of your corset the only thing keeping you upright at this moment. Not that your stays are as tight as most of the noble ladies that come and go on the marriage mart. You have no desire to be married, to be chattel to a noble man and birth his children. Even though your father has just informed you that the man you are to marry already has children. A widower who is not so choosy as to a new wife that he is willing to take on an old maid who is nearly set upon the shelf and discarded at every social function during the season. 

Pero Tovar is the name of the man you are to wed. Not only are you to be married off, but you will be shipped away from your home. Sent to Spain with no one that you know around you. Completely without allies and unable to easily go home if you are unhappy. Your father had met him in London and arranged your marriage before returning home to inform you. “Please.” You beg softly. “Do not make me marry a man I have never laid eyes on.” 

“You have no choice. I am dying, daughter. You heard the doctor. I have months left. I do not wish to leave you without stability. The time has come for you to marry. I cannot allow you to delay it anymore. Tovar is a wealthy man. He has a large estate and two children from his late wife. He doesn’t need some young maid to birth children for his heir. He is stern but he has very strong morals. You’ll be safe with him and that’s all that matters. Please do not argue with a dying man.” Your father begs and you choke, tears stinging in your eyes as you embrace him and he rubs your back, knowing these moments before you go to Spain will be the last you spend together.

The day has come for you to leave your father, and despite your best efforts, you weep. Over the course of the month, he had grown more frail and could not even accompany you to Spain to see you wed in person. Embracing him in his sickbed, you know word would come that he had passed, your cousin inheriting the home you had grown up in, and all the wealth your father had accumulated. Your dowry is carefully packed into a large trunk, generous enough that if it had been known, several in London would have made you their wife. Instead, you will be Lady Tovar. “I love you.” You murmur, wishing you could stay until he had left this earth. “I love you father, I am sorry I was not the boy you wished to carry your legacy forward.”

Your father tuts, “don’t be silly, child. You are my life. After your mother died…you are everything to me. My world. I love you. If you could have everything, I’d give it to you.” He promises and cups your cheek, his hand shaking. 

Your eyes sting with tears and you grip his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I know.” You promise, reluctantly pulling back. 

“Go. Go live your life. Just promise me you’ll be happy.” He orders and you sniff, wiping your cheeks and you nod. It takes everything in you to leave his chambers but you do and you make your way down to the carriage to begin the start of a very long journey to Spain.

The trip to the ship takes nearly a week. A broken carriage wheel, a broken axle, and a thrown shoe from one of the horses. It seems as if the entire trip is cursed. You occupy yourself by writing letters and reading a few of the books you had packed into your reticule. Wondering if your father has passed already and praying that he has not. When you finally reach the ship, you sigh as you stare at the sails. Rather than just a short journey across the channel, it will be another week, sailing up the coast of Spain before you disembark. Your betrothed’s men should meet you there to carry you to his summer estate in the country.

When you step foot on land, you are relieved and exhausted, anxious and ready to be in your new home. Your husband to be doesn’t come to greet you, not that you expected that anyway but you are greeted by his secretary. “Señorita, I am Carlos. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Come this way, the carriage awaits us.” He says, gesturing to the horses behind him as the staff begins to gather your things to secure them for the final leg of your journey.

The carriage seems to be sturdy and soon you are pulling away. “Tell me about your lord.” You beg, having heard very little from your father beyond the rudimentary information. You want to know more about the man you are supposed to wed. “What is he like?” How a man treats his staff says a lot about him. That is what your father always told you.

Carlos looks at you, appraising you for a bit until he answers. “He is stern. Unforgiving but fair. He knows wrong from right and is only violent when the need occurs. He loved Maria, his first wife, but after she died, he has become a recluse. His children are cared for by the staff and he rarely interacts with them. If you want my honesty, señorita. The house needs life and love once again. It’s cold and lacking happiness.”

You bite your lip, repressing a small shiver. He sounds…..austere. Unyielding. You feel for the children who seem to have lost both their mother and father at the same time. “How old are the children?” You ask politely, aware that if he was not giving love and attention to his children, it would be your job. You remember how terribly you had missed your own mother, though your father had been your rock through grieving.

“They are five and seven. They do not remember their mother. Both too young. Luis - the youngest - was the child born when Maria lost her life. She doesn’t remember her mother. Alejandra, she - she doesn’t remember her either. They are - needing love and attention as all children do and their father - he is a busy man. That’s why he wanted a wife who was capable of nurturing his children when he is unable to.” Carlos explains and you glance out of the carriage as the Spanish port city turns to countryside.

“I see.” You wonder if the children are too painful a reminder of his late wife. If that was the reason he could not be around them. “And his holdings?” You ask. “He is a lord, is he busy with his lands?” 

Carlos nods and sighs. “My lord works long hours to make sure that the estates and the lands that are used by his people are properly maintained.” He tells you, making you feel a bit better about the situation. 

“Then I will make sure that he has a comfortable home and well behaved children to come home to.” You promise. 

Carlos nods, appreciating your compliance and he watches you as you look back out of the window. You are beautiful, have an air of maturity the other girls, the local ones, had lacked. His lord has been searching for a wife for a while, but no one has fit his criteria. He doesn’t want a simpering girl who wants romance, he needs a partner who can assist him with his home and his children. Carlos knows that Pero’s heart is cold, iced over after the death of Maria and he doesn’t know if anyone can melt it.

The good thing about you is that you know that love and romance are not expected, nor required in most marriages. You aren’t a starry eyed little girl who will wish that her husband falls desperately in love with her. From everything you are hearing, that would be quite impossible. You will settle for mutual respect. The rest of the journey is spent quietly thinking, making plans for your new home that could be tossed out the window the moment you arrive. You do not even know if your future husband will be there to greet you.

When you pull up outside of the summer home of Don Pero Tovar, it’s beautiful and instantly takes your breath away. It’s picturesque and grand but when you have a closer look, you can see the cracks, the work that needs to be done. The shutters are crooked and need new paint. The flowers are gone and the paint is peeling everywhere. “Oh. I- it’s beautiful but-” You start and Carlos finishes your statement, “it needs work. After Señora Maria died, Don Tovar just let the place go, too preoccupied to maintain it.”

You nod, understanding that he might not have had the heart to continue to look after the details that make his estate a home for his family. “Then I will hire workers to restore his home to its former glory.” You decide with a smile, eager to get to work and contribute.

Carlos hums as the carriage comes to a stop, “if he allows it. He - it’s - it’s almost like he is stuck in the past, never moving forward.” His eyes widen and he shakes his head, “please señorita, don’t - he mustn’t know I said that.” He murmurs and you nod, “it’s our secret.” The secretary exhales and reaches out to open the door to the carriage, stepping out and holding out his hand to assist you down.

There is no staff lined up to greet you. No betrothed waiting at the door to introduce you to his household. The pots next to the large double doors of the house are empty, filled with dirt and sticks. Providing an unwelcoming air and you try to think of it as some kind of omen. “Well, it is late.” You excuse, biting your lip as you look around.

Carlos looks guilty as he opens the door to guide you inside to find the housekeeper, Señora Garcia. “Come, let’s take you to your quarters and we shall start fresh in the morning, you have had a long journey and I’m sure you’d rather meet everyone after resting.” Carlos says and Señora Garcia nods, “also, your lady’s maid, Carmen, will be waiting in your room to help you prepare for tonight. We will bring dinner to your room.”

You tilt your head. “Prepare for tonight?” You ask, confused by what he means. “What is happening tonight?” Surely he does not mean that Lord or Don Tovar meant to wed you tonight after you’ve only just arrived? You have not even met the man, you had hoped to have a conversation before he becomes your husband. 

“The wedding.” Carlos says like you should’ve known. “Did no one inform you that Don Tovar wanted to be married as soon as you arrived?” You shake your head and Carlos sighs. “You are to be married tonight. Carmen will help you dress and we will bring your trunks up to your quarters. The wedding will be at eight. We will bring food to your room beforehand and a bath. You’ll be the lady of the house tonight.”

Closing your eyes, you try to suppress the tremble that races through you. Stiffening your spine and taking a breath before you open your eyes and nod. “I will be ready when Don Tovar says.” You agree, making Carlos nod in approval. “I would also like a cup of tea to be brought up, right away.” 

Carlos nods, “sí, señorita. I’ll make sure you get your tea.” He assures you and you sigh, following Señora Garcia up the stairs to your quarters. The house is dark and damp and there seems to be no sign of life anywhere. You immediately feel alone and cold, regretting leaving your home, your dying father for this pitiful estate.

****

By the time your tea arrives, it’s accompanied by your meal. Cold and unappetizing, you wonder why the cook would send you a plate such as this. Investigating your room, you find that it has not been properly aired out, dust still sitting on the window sills and the candle holders not refreshed with new candles. It seems as if you are to be un-welcomed or the staff who works here is completely unskilled in how to run a house. 

“Señorita, bienvenidos.” Carmen says as she walks in, “I am sorry I am late. I am your lady’s maid and I am here to assist you with getting you ready for your wedding to Don Tovar. Was your dinner acceptable, señorita?” She asks and notices your frown, “what is wrong?” She prompts, wanting to be there for the soon to be lady of the house.

“The meal was cold,” You explain, understanding that she is not to blame for that. “As was my tea.” You tilt your head and look at the lovely young woman. “Have you worked for the household for long?” You ask. “Is this how meals are normally delivered?” If it is some kind of custom, you would try to be more understanding, but you don’t think that it is. 

Carmen shakes her head, “absolutely not. I- you shouldn’t have had a cold meal and cold tea. Please, señorita, let me get you a new, hot -” 

You interrupt her, “no. It’s not - I’ve eaten it now and I do not have time to waste. I need to bathe and get ready for my future husband.” You inform her and she nods, “I will go fetch the hot water and we will get you ready.” She promises and rushes off.

You are grateful that your trunks have been delivered, your dress you had made clean, if slightly wrinkled from being packed. Airing it out, you had hoped you would wear this while marrying a man that you had met before, but it seems unlikely to happen now. You had not even heard any movement in the large house. 

Carmen works diligently to clean you up, washing your back and making sure the dirt from the journey has been washed off prior to your wedding. Once you’re dry, she works on styling your hair and soon enough, it’s time for her to help you into your dress. “What’s he like?” You ask her as she buttons your dress and Carmen bites her lip. “He’s…direct but fair.”

“That seems to be what everyone says about him.” You hum. “Is he a handsome man?” Carmen glances at you nervously. “He- some think him handsome. But-“ she glances around your empty bedroom and lowers her voice. “He has a - a scar. Over his left eye.”

You inhale sharply, wondering how a man like Tovar got a scar over his eye. You’re worried now, scared that he is going to be a rough man. “He’s a good Don, fair and harsh but I think you will be good to have in this house. We need light, we need love. It’s been missing for far too long.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Carmen to declare that you look perfect. Your nerves flutter in your stomach and you press your hand to it in a meager effort to calm them. “Then perhaps you can show me a little of the estate while we walk to the chapel?” You assume that there is a chapel on the grounds that you will be married in. Giving your maid a weak smile, you try to hide the fear. 

Carmen nods, “of course, señorita. Come, let us go now. Your intended will be waiting.” She says and you exhale shakily, trying to gather yourself to get married to a man you’ve never met before.

The estate is beautiful, the ground neglected like the house, although you can tell someone had once cared for them a great deal. You wonder if that was your soon to be husband's late wife. It doesn’t take long for you to see the stone chapel, overgrown and yet the soft candlelight coming from the windows gives it an enchanting glow. You take a deep breath and glance at the maid for some reassurances. 

Carmen squeezes your arm and winks at you, “everything will be fine.” She promises but you both know she has no way to assure that. You stand in the entrance of the chapel when the violin starts to play and you swallow harshly when Carmen gestures it’s time for you to go. You exhale shakily and step foot into the main hall of the chapel. 

**** 

When you step into the chapel, Pero keeps his back turned. Your father had shown him your miniature so he knows you are a beautiful woman. Not that it makes a difference. He has far exceeded the socially acceptable grieving period for Maria and now he’s expected to get a wife. He needs a mother for his children and a woman to maintain his estate. The music plays as you walk down the aisle and when you approach him, he turns around and inhales sharply when he sees your face. You’re gorgeous. A woman most men would kill to wed but he doesn’t care about looks, he cares about you filling the position that has remained empty in his home. He wonders if you like the look of him.

Your steps forward stumble briefly, but you recover. Catching your breath and smiling softly, you find him to be most handsome in a visceral, viral way. Rough and not exactly tamed, although many would say that you were possessed to think that way. HIs eyes are dark and watching you, making your skin heat and you wonder if your future husband approves of you. Stepping closer to him, you stop directly in front of him and take another breath. “Don Tovar.” You murmur, curtsying prettily. 

You curtsy so perfectly, it’s almost enough to make him smile but he doesn’t. He hasn’t since Maria died. His life is now black and white, his love taking all of the color in the world with her when she died during childbirth. “Señorita.” He greets you and takes your hands, turning towards the priest who was called to marry you. Pero’s secretary and Carmen are to bear witness to the marriage and Pero is glad there’s no audience to see him remarry a woman he doesn’t even know.

The priest recites the vows in Spanish and you follow along closely. Listening as he proclaims that marriage is a sacred duty to your husband and you can barely look at your intended. Sneaking a glance and trying not to fidget. “I do.” You murmur quietly when you are asked if you take the Don as your husband. Your eyes meet his and you bite your lip, wondering if he is unhappy. He is frowning, he must be unhappy with his decision to marry you. 

Pero remembers his wedding day to Maria. How excited he was. Young and eager before the days of war to marry the woman he loved. He was ready to have a future with her and it was ripped away from him on one fateful winter day. Tovar recites his vows and when the priest declares you husband and wife, he leans in to kiss your cheek. “Welcome, mi esposa.” He whispers once you are married.

A kiss on the cheek was not what you expected, turning to find his lips when he pulls away leaves you flustered. “Gracias, husband.” You murmur quietly. His secretary and your maid clap quietly and you turn back to them with a smile, thanking them for witnessing your vows.

Pero takes your hand to guide you out of the chapel and to the carriage awaiting to take you back to the main home. Pero doesn’t say a word as you are carted back and when you arrive, the housekeeper takes your hand to assist you inside. “There’s no need to arrange our bed chamber. My bride will be spending the night in her own room.” Tovar reveals with a grunt.

“Yes, Don Tovar.” Carmen nods and you are left feeling rejected even if you had been nervous about the wedding night. It is silly to think of, but you hope it’s because he wishes to get to know you before you become intimate. 

“Then I wish you a good night, husband.” You nod politely to him and wait for him to speak.

Pero turns to look at you, reaching for your hand and he bends down to kiss the back of it but it’s cold and emotionless. “Buenas noches, señora Tovar. I will see you tomorrow so we can discuss your duties. Carmen, escort her to her room. Garcia, vamos. We have much to discuss.” Tovar says to his secretary who nods and steps beside him as he strides over without a glance back towards you.

“I see what you mean.” You murmur to your lady’s maid as she starts to guide you back up the stairs. “He is devoid of much emotion, although at least he is polite.” It is better than some men that you had met. “Is there a library in the house?” You ask curiously. “I fear that I had brought many of my own books when packing my trunks.” 

“There is a library, señora. It- it needs organizing. It has been neglected for many years but the children do study there during the day. It needs a refresh. Perhaps you may ask Don Tovar if he will provide you with the tools to refresh the room where the children learn.” She says and you hum, letting her escort you back to your chambers. 

**** 

“She is beautiful, no?” Carlos asks his employer who grunts as he sits down in the chair, working on removing his shoes and his wedding attire, wanting to be comfortable. “She is but you know I don’t care for beauty. I need a woman to run the house. To show those fools in society that I have fulfilled their requirements. I don’t need her company, I just need her presence. Her father was desperate to marry her off before his death and her dowry was enough to keep her without spending my coin. She’s suitable for the role and I’m hoping the children will attach to her.” Pero says and Carlos nods, “we shall see.”

You wake up shrieking as a pitcher of cold water is tossed on your face while you lay in your bed. Bolting upright, you flail your arms, hearing giggling as you try to blink and see what or who is attacking you. Finding two children grinning at you in defiance as the oldest holds the empty pitcher in his hands. It is still dark outside, at least you think it is, for the curtains are still drawn over the large windows. Pero’s children. Your husband’s children have woken you up by throwing water on your face. You leap from the bed right as you hear the pounding of footsteps and the door to your room bursts open. 

“Alejandra! Luis! Mierda!” Pero growls as he storms into the room to find his children standing there with their hands behind their backs. “What is wrong with you?” He growls, turning to face you when he sees you are soaking wet, his eyes dipping down to the white gown you’re wearing, now see through and he swallows harshly at the sight of your nipples. Carmen rushes in and he turns towards her. “Gather water for a bath to warm her up and get her a robe.” Pero demands and turns back to his children. “I was walking past when I heard the commotion. You cannot do that. Why would you do that?” Pero hisses at his children who stare at him defiantly. 

“We thought it would be funny.” Alejandra answers and Pero inhales deeply. 

“That is not acceptable. You will miss breakfast and today, you’ll be writing lines - saying you will not abuse your new mother.” He says lowly and Luis shakes his head, “she isn’t our mama. We don’t want her. We want our real mama.” Luis stomps his foot and Pero pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Go to your rooms before I get the belt.” He threatens, knowing he wouldn’t actually hit them but every day they test him and push him closer to physical punishment. 

“Papa-” Alejandra chokes and Pero hisses, “do not test me girl. Now get out of my sight.” He hisses and the children rush out of your room.

“I am sorry.” You murmur quietly, covering your arms over your chest and shivering in the cold. It is chilly in the room since there is not a fire laid in the grate and you wish that you did not feel so exposed with his eyes on you. “I- I do not know what happened.” you shake your head. “I was sleeping and then - I just - they do not wish for a new mother?” You had expected that the children were accepting of your new husband marrying again, but it is apparent they do not want you here. That will make things more difficult for you if you expect to forge any kind of bond with them. 

“They are loyal to their mother.” He answers curtly, wanting to add that he is too but he feels that would be too insensitive. “They will come around. They have been troublesome and I am hoping a female presence will help them adjust.” He says and Carmen rushes over with your robe to help you cover up.

“Thank you.” You wrap the robe around you and find that your husband does not seem to care for you being here any more than his children and you swallow harshly, feeling incredibly alone. “I see.” You nod and decide that you might as well broach the subject since he is here. “Then I have permission to discipline the children?” You ask him. “If they are to respect me, then they need to see me as an authority figure as well as a motherly one.” 

“Yes, but I do not physically punish them. You are welcome to discipline them as you see fit. I have struggled to control them. They do not seem to want to be around me and I - I must admit I am a little hopeless about how to handle them.” He confesses, “if you can control them, you’ll have my admiration.”

You nod, thankful that he will allow you to curtail his children’s rambunctiousness. “I also wish to reorganize the library and freshen up the house to make things more homey.” You add. You do not tell him that his home is desperately in need of repair, but that would be something that you would be able to tackle with a good scrubbing and a good airing out. “Would that be acceptable to you?” 

Pero nods, unable to argue with you when you are doing exactly what he wants to be done. He needs his home to be returned to its former glory and his children to be nurtured and loved in ways he has failed. “Very well, señora. I will let you prepare for the day. Breakfast will be brought to you and you are permitted to explore the house as you see fit. It is your home now.”

“Thank you.” You murmur quietly, wondering if you would ever have a meal with the man you call your husband. “However I will order dinner to be served in the dining room this evening.” It will be the first time you will have imposed your will and you wonder if he will dismiss your wishes. “Perhaps the children can join us?”

Tovar nods, “very well.” He doubts he will eat dinner with you. That implies that you are having some kind of relationship and that isn’t what this is. You’re here to fill a position like if he were to hire a new housekeeper. Pero stares at you for a moment before he steps back and makes his way down the hall to his office.

You blow out a breath, happy and yet slightly discontent with his answers and you feel like he has no intention of trying to get closer to you. It’s like he does not actually want you here, but needs you. “Well, good morning to you as well.” You huff sarcastically under your breath.

Pero continues on with his day, attending to the finances due at the end of the month for the tenant rents and salaries for the staff, signing off on the accounts for the food and necessities. It’s a laborious job but Carlos can only do so much. Your presence here will alleviate the household requirements from him but the estate needs maintenance. The day gets away from him and he is soon preparing for lunch.

You sigh, exhausted and wipe your brow as you collapse into a dusty couch and look around the room. The library will be days in the making to turn into a lovely place to read and teach the children. Who have been watching you warily and not paying attention to their tasks. They are seated at a table, their books open, but neither one of them has completed an assignment. “How do you like the gardens?” You ask, looking over at them. “Is it lovely to have picnics there for lunch?”

Alejandra glances at her brother before she answers you, “we don’t have picnics in the garden. Papa doesn’t really like for us to go outside.” She tells you and Luis nods his agreement, making you frown. “He says it’s dangerous to go outside in the gardens.”

You purse your lips, not remembering any kind of warning about staying out of the gardens. “Perhaps your papa means that it would be dangerous for you to go out there by yourselves?” you offer, standing up and wiping your hands on your apron that you had covered your day dress with. “Why don’t we see about having the cook make up some picnic food and we can take lunch out there? Explore and take in the fresh air.” It was obvious the children were bored and isolated, running around in the gardens would be good for you and them. Perhaps it would even help them like you.

Alejandra is cautious as she watches you, placing her pencil down so she can look at you properly. Luis tugs on her sleeve, shaking his head, and she pushes him off. “The garden, Luis.” She says pointedly and the little boy giggles, making you tilt your head. “What’s so funny?” You ask and Luis shakes his head. “Nothing.” Alejandra answers, “a picnic would be lovely.”

You frown but nod. “Alright. Put your books away and we will venture into the kitchen.” You smile. “Perhaps the cook has made cookies for us to have.” You shouldn’t bribe the children with sweets but you want to break through their prickly exteriors. They are still young and it has been a long time since their mother has been lost to them. “How does that sound?”

Luis nods, cautious but easily swayed by cookies. Alejandra is more reserved, offering you a look as she closes her book and you smile at her, trying to disarm her cautious nature. The children soon have their books stored away and they rush towards the kitchen, calling out for the cook who has become a mother figure for them. Señora Lola. “¡Ay niños!” She exclaims as they practically slide into the kitchen.

You can’t help but smile as the children greet the cook with obvious affection and your complaints about your first dinner being cold are forgotten for the moment. They hug the cook excitedly and both begin talking at once, turning and pointing to you. When the older woman looks up at you, you nod your head politely. “The children and I would like to have a picnic luncheon in the gardens.” You explain in Spanish. “Would we be able to put together a suitable fare for this?”

Lola nods, “of course, señora. I can prepare a basket for you and the children.” She assures you, “would you like a cup of tea while I prepare lunch?” She asks and you nod, moving to sit down at the kitchen table while the children tell Lola about their lessons. You can sense that she’s like a mother figure to the young ones and you’re glad they have had someone since their mother passed. Lola works fast to get you a cup of tea and the children a glass of milk while they wait.

“Thank you.” You watch as she moves about the kitchen, finding her to be quick and decisive as she gathers her ingredients. This is not a woman who is sloppy or resentful it seems. It makes you wonder why the food was so horrible the day before. When the kids are busy drinking their milk, you smile. “Tell me about yourself, Señora Lola. It is obvious you have been with the Don’s household for many years.”

Lola smiles, “my mother was the cook before she retired. My father was the Tovar’s butler and they fell in love and had me. Mi mamá taught me everything I know and we have been in the Tovar household for three generations. My son is a gardener. My husband is the groundskeeper. Maria - bless her soul - was the heart of the home. She lit up every room she was in.” Lola sighs and glances at the children.

“I understand that I am new.” You venture softly. “And I cannot replace Señora Tovar, but I would like to bring some comfort and happiness to her family.” You know that you can’t just force these people to accept you. Not when they had lived for so long with the ghost of the woman who had left them broken. You bite your lip. “Will you help me do that, Señora Lola?” 

Lola nods, “if you can bring hope and light back to this home, you will forever have my admiration and gratefulness, señora. You are Señora Tovar now.” Lola tells you and you bite your lip as she prepares the lunch.

Once the lunch is packed away in a basket along with a large bottle of lemonade, you have Carmen bring you a quilt to spread on the grass to sit on. Guiding the children out of the large, glass doors into the garden, you smile at the bright sun and fresh air. The weather is beautiful and you can see yourself bringing the children out here often. “Where would you like to sit?” You ask, looking around the neat but barren gardens. It’s obvious Lola’s husband keeps them up but there has not been any new flowers or plants added for some time. 

The children point to a spot near the pond and you allow them to guide you towards it. Carmen spreads out the blanket and you settle down with the children. Pero is standing up to stretch when he sees you and the children on the lawn. He tilts his head and wonders how you managed to get them to sit down for more than five minutes. Maybe he did make the right decision.

Eating outside seems to have been a magical treat for the kids. They ate politely and minded their manners after the promise of running around after they finished was made. You can tell they enjoyed it and by the time you had to pack up to go back to the house to finish their lessons they were sleepy. Making you smile at the way they leaned against one another.

**** 

“Señora, is this the color you prefer for the drapes?” Carmen asks you as you appraise the different materials and pattern samples. It’s been a month since you’ve been in Pero’s home and you have been slowly working on bringing the home back to its former glory. The children have grown closer to you, wanting their meals in your company, yet still no sign of your husband.

Pero walks down the hall, the portraits of his ancestors lining the walls and he notices the change of the decor. Everything seems dusted and shiny, and the rugs are pristine. It’s fresher and brighter. He knows it’s your doing and that makes him smile, assured he made the right decision to marry you.

“I think it will look lovely in the breakfast dining room, don’t you?” You ask, finding Carmen to be a wealth of information and a good judge of character and design. As the two of you had grown closer the more time you spent going through the house room by room. Even the kids were helping when it was time to scrub walls and beat rugs out in the garden. You had turned it into a game where you covered their eyes and spun them around before they whacked the rugs with a broom. They had giggled and fallen down, but it was worth the extra time it had taken to freshen the rugs. “Perhaps, even if he does not dine with me, Don Tovar might enjoy reading his paper and drinking his tea in a bright and cheerful room.”

“Papa! Papa!” Alejandra rushes up to her father who is shocked at her cheerful greeting. 

“Sí, mi tresoro.” He answers and she grins, “we are going into town today.” She declares and Pero frowns, not liking the idea. 

“Whose idea is this?” He asks lowly and Alejandra says your name. Pero sighs and tells his daughter to lead him to you. She takes his hand and guides him to the kitchen where you are sitting with Lola. “Hola.” He greets his cook who smiles at him and says “hola señor.” His dark eyes turn to you, “Alejandra tells me you are taking the children into town today?”

“I am.” You nod as you set down the book you are making notes in. Carmen hustles to put the fabrics away and you send your husband a small smile. “The children need new shoes and I have several merchants that I wish to visit.” You glance at Alejandra with a proud look. “The children have assured me that they will be well behaved, and they are excited to spend their own pin money.”

Pero frowns, “I do not like them going into town. I do not want you going into town. It is dangerous.” He says, remembering when Maria went into town while with child and was knocked over. She went into labor early with Luis and that’s the night that she died. His hands shake a little and he shakes his head, “you are not going. I forbid it.”

Your brow arches and you look towards Carmen and Lola. Both women quickly bow and disappear. “Alejandra,” you urge his daughter. “Go and find your brother.” You urge her as you stand up and brush your dress down. If you are going to disagree with your husband, you are not going to do it in front of the staff or his children.

Pero meets your defiant gaze and he clears his throat, “I will not allow you to go into town. It’s dangerous. If you need something, you can tell the staff and they will go and get it.” He compromises and you glance around to make sure no one is around.

“Don Tovar, I appreciate your concern for my well-being but I am not a child and I will not be held hostage on your estate.” You declare. “I will take a footman and a driver with me, and exercise all caution. But I am going to town. Now….is there anything you wish for me to get while we are there?”

Pero clenches his jaw, remembering that moment Maria was carried into the house, her screams still echo through the halls of his mind. “No. I forbid it. You won’t be leaving this estate. That’s an order.” He growls, reaching for your wrist to grip it, his hand shaking as he remembers the night Maria died.

You wince when he grabs your wrist, squeezing it hard enough that your breath catches in pain. You wrench your wrist away from him, yanking your arm down and stepping back, your eyes wide with both fear and anger. "I am your wife. Not your servant." You manage to keep the fear from making your voice tremble.

“You can’t go. I - I can’t - Maria - she- please. You cannot go.” He shakes his head, his chest starting to heave and he hates how anxious he’s become at the thought of losing more from his life. He has barely spent a moment with you since the wedding but the idea of his children losing another woman from their lives makes his chest tighten.

Fear turns to worry, making you step forward and reaching for his arm. “Pero?” You do not use his Christian name often, but you use it now. “What is wrong? Take a breath.” You urge him, frowning at the way that your husband has turned from cold and demanding to panicked. “Talk to me.”

He pants, unable to calm himself down, and he clings to you, pulling you close and he can’t control his thumping heart, remembering the night he lost Maria, the night he lost the light of his life. He closes his eyes, trying to control himself but he’s failing.

You nearly stumble, but you don’t resist him. Holding onto your husband’s waist while he trembles. He’s obviously horrified by the idea and you can’t understand why but you don’t want to make him do this. “Alright, alright, I will not go into town.” You give in, hating that you are but perhaps you can talk to him and come to agreement later on when he has calmed down.

Pero inhales deeply, remembering what his doctor told him to do, and he tries to calm himself down, grounding himself with your touch. He takes several moments before he opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours. “I- I’m sorry, esposa.” He murmurs, his hands still gripping you.

"It is alright." You murmur soothingly, wanting nothing more than to make him feel comfortable around you. You are supposed to be here to help him, and it seems like he needs help with this. "I am here, I am right here." You assure him with a smile.

When you smile at him, he jerks back and lowers his hands, the shield back up as he gathers himself and clears his throat. “I, uh, I am going to go - go back to my office. I trust you will send Carmen in your place to town.” Pero says and quickly turns to rush back to his office, away from you and the children once more.

You stare after your husband, completely flabbergasted and frustrated. The man dictates that you must stay at the estate, not go to town and has an apoplexy before fleeing back to his study without giving you a reason why you must be a hostage. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, you turn and curse your husband's stubbornness. You need to know what happened to Maria and why town is forbidden.

Alejandra and Luis shake their heads when you tell them you are no longer heading into town. “Please. Tell Papa we must go!” Alejandra whines, clinging to your skirts. 

“I’m sorry, amor. He won’t allow us. We must listen to him.” You say and she shakes her head and looks up at you to stomp her foot. 

“I hate him!” She cries and runs off, followed by Luis. You sigh and sit down just as Carmen comes over with a tea tray. 

“Señora, I do not wish to speak out of turn.” She says and you shake your head, “when do we hide our feelings and thoughts, mi amiga.” You smile at her and she smiles back, glancing around when she takes a seat beside you. 

“Don Tovar has - has a lot of fears about you going into town because that was the night he lost Maria.”

You frown, unsure of why going into town would cause a woman to die in childbirth, but you take your tea and listen. “I do not understand.” You shake your head. “Maria died giving birth to Luis, I thought?” You frown, knowing you will need to soothe the children’s feelings later on, but you want them to be able to calm down before you try. If you know why your husband fears it so, you can explain better to disappointed young children who don’t understand why they cannot have fun. 

Carmen glances around again, “Maria was far along with Luis when she wanted to go into town to fetch more yarn for knitting. She - she was an independent woman and Don Tovar, he - he worshiped the ground she walked on. She loved him and he loved her. When she went into town, she was robbed for her jewels and coins and thrown to the ground and it sent her into early labor. The thugs were never apprehended and she was rushed home and the doctor was called. That was the night Luis was born and Maria died. They thought Luis was going to die too but he survived. Don Tovar was never the same.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders slump and you can understand why Pero is fearful of his wife going to town now. Even if he does not love you, the children have grown close to you and it would hurt them to lose you. “That is so sad.” You look down into your tea with a sigh and wish for a moment that this had been explained to you sooner. “I better understand why he is so hesitant, but he cannot think that the children will be kept here forever, does he?” 

“He has…attacks when he has concerns about the children’s safety. I think - I do not wish to speak out of place but I think that’s why he has pushed the children away.” Carmen says and you nod in understanding. “I think he wishes he could connect with them but it’s hard since all he sees is Maria. He loved her. She was his childhood sweetheart and they married young before he left to fight in the war.”

You sigh softly, knowing you would find it romantic if he didn’t push his children away. To close himself off from pain. “Then I will make him.” You decide with a firm press of your lips. “I will go talk to the children. Inform Lola that the children and I will be taking lunch in Don Tovar’s study.” You decide. “Since he refuses to take his meals in the dining room, we will come to him.” 

Carmen won’t argue with you, knowing it is futile, so she nods. “Very well, señora. I will tell Lola now and will let Carlos know.” 

You shake your head, “not Carlos. I want it to be a surprise.” You say and she nods, “sí, señora.” You smile and she stands, bowing her head before she exits the room, leaving you with the news to tell the children. 

**** 

Pero looks up from his papers when there is a knock on the door and he calls out “come in.” When you enter followed by the children, he’s shocked. “Señora?” He frowns, setting his pen down.

“Husband.” You send him a smile and guide the children over to the table that sits in front of the sofa and they sit down. Alejandra is still pouting, but her tears have dried and she is not so angry when she was told her papa feared for her safety. “Carmen will be bringing in our lunch soon.” You explain with a cheerful smile. “I thought that since you work so hard and are so busy, we would join you here to have lunch together.” 

Pero’s frown deepens, “lunch together? Are you not able to have lunch in the kitchen?” He asks and you raise your eyebrows at him. 

Pero bites his lip and you answer him, “the children would like to spend some time with their father seeing as we are no longer going into town.” You say and Alejandra stands up to walk over to Pero, reaching for his hand, “please papa. Let us have lunch together.” Her pout is Pero’s unraveling as he nods, standing up from his desk chair to walk towards the sofa.

Luis grins, unaware and still too young to understand his father’s hesitancy, but he begins to tell his father about the Spanish Armada that the governess is teaching the children about lately. “Sí, mijo. The English defeated us.” His dark eyes meet yours as he answers questions Luis excitedly asks him and he seems to relax a little. Lola and Carmen bring the meal in and the four of you begin to eat.

“I have decided to ask Carmen to direct any traveling merchants to our house when they are going through town.” You take a sip of your tea and look at your husband. “As well as inquire about children that are near Luis and Alejandra’s age that might wish to come play with them. Soon the house will be ready for visitors.”

Pero frowns, “why would we require merchants to come to my home?” He asks as he picks up his glass of wine. “And for the other children…I suppose it will be good for them to mingle with others.” He concedes that point, glancing at you and he’s taken back once again by your beauty, especially when the light hits your face.

“We require merchants to come to your home because the children need new shoes, their own are pinching their feet and the cobbler cannot make their shoes without measuring their feet.” You point out. “Also, I enjoy socializing and since I am not permitted to go to town, I will simply have town come to me.”

Pero sets his wine glass down, “I suppose that is for the best. I want the children to have everything they need, I want you to have everything you need. You - I am guessing one of the staff told you about Maria?” He asks, curious if anything has been said about his behavior.

You could lie to him, but you don’t. “I was told about the night Luis was born.” You admit softly, understanding how such a thing could haunt the man, especially since he was a soldier in the war. You wonder if the poor boy you have come to love even gets any acknowledgement on his birthing day, or if grief is too overwhelming. “You have my deepest sympathies.”

Pero swallows the lump that always forms in his throat when he thinks about Maria and that fateful night. In a way, he’s glad he didn’t have to discuss it with you, to relive that horrid night, but another part of him knows he needs to discuss it with you, to tell you why he brought you here and has yet to consummate the marriage. That time is not now though with the children here. “Gracias, mi esposa. I- I would like to have supper with you tonight…if you want.”

Your head tilts in surprise but you don’t voice it. “That would be lovely, Don Tovar.” You murmur softly, aware that he is asking for a dinner that is apart from the children. “I will ask that Lola makes your favorite dish.” You offer, smiling slightly. “Do you have any preference for dessert?”

Pero’s gaze dips down to your cleavage. You are a beautiful woman and he has not indulged in pleasure since Maria died apart from a few times where he had spent his coin and then felt incredibly guilty after when he felt like he was betraying his beloved wife. Tonight is about giving your marriage a chance, giving you a chance when he’s been so closed off from you since your wedding night.

You don’t miss the way that your husband's eyes dip down to your breasts and you wonder if he has finally decided to acknowledge that he has a wife. You aren’t ignorant of the relationship between man and wife and yet you have still retained your chastity well into your marriage. Pero mumbles something about a sweet and you nod. “I will make sure that is what you get, if you so desire.”

He nods in appreciation and Luis takes his attention by handing him a cookie from the tray. “Gracias, mi amor.” Pero smiles at his son. 

“Papa, will you come and ride with us tomorrow?” Alejandra asks, wanting him to join them for their riding lessons. 

“I- I am busy, mija. I-” 

Alejandra shakes her head, her lower lip trembling. “Papa. I want - please.” She begs and Pero looks at you, a little lost.

“Your Papa is a very busy man, sweetheart.” You remind her gently. “Although, I believe that he should be able to join you for at least one hour? Yes, Don Tovar?” You ask, glancing from Alejandra to your husband. It will allow the children to see their father and still not take too much time away from his busy work. Although you feel as if he spends much of his time working so he does not have to grieve. “How does that sound?” 

Alejandra nods, “please papa. Just an hour. Por favor.” She pleads and Pero nods, not wanting to see his daughter so pouty. 

“Sí, mi amor. An hour. Let’s go riding for an hour.” He compromises and she surges forward to hug his arm, “¡gracias, papa!”

You smile at your husband’s shocked face when his daughter smothers him in affection. Nodding when he looks over at you, asking if he is doing things right or perhaps seeking help. He’s doing something that will make his children very happy and it’s a good thing. “Now we need to finish eating.” You tell the children. “Papa needs to get back to work, so finish your lunch so we can leave him to it.” 

Pero nods, rubbing Alejandra’s back and he leans down to kiss her head. He can’t deny the way his heart twists at how much he’s missed out on with his little girl and his son. He knows he needs to be a better father to them. “Let’s finish eating.” He says and Alejandra nods, letting go of her father to settle down to eat. Lunch is finished in companionable silence and Pero is soon kissing his children on the head, promising them he will have dinner with them tomorrow.

“Go start your studies again.” You tell the children, smiling when they rush off and you turn towards your husband, slightly flustered to be alone with him for the first time. “I will clean up and get this mess out of your hair.” You promise. “Thank you for not turning them away. They talk about their papa every day and want to spend time with you.” 

Pero smiles, watching the children rush off after kissing his cheek then yours, and Pero watches them with his heart thumping. “Gracias, señora. You - you brought me back to my children and I- I never knew how to bridge the gap. I- I cannot repay you for that.”

“There is no need for repayment, Don Tovar.” You assure him, still calling him by his formal title since he has never permitted you to use his Christian name. “That is my job.” You know that he would rather be quit of your presence so you nod and quickly turn around to gather the meals up onto the trays to be carried back to the kitchen. 

Pero swallows harshly, “please…call me Pero.” He says and reaches for your hand. He squeezes it, and his heart twists as he thinks about you and how beautiful you are yet he feels like he’s betraying Maria.

“P-Pero.” you murmur, feeling shy now that he has stopped you from your task. You bite your lip as you stare into his dark eyes, wishing that you could tell him how handsome you find him. “Is there - something else you wished for, Pero?” You ask quietly. 

Pero stares at you for a moment before he withdraws his hand. This is progress but he knows he shouldn’t venture into his attraction to you. It will only lead to heartbreak, either his or the children’s. “No. That is all. I shall see you later for supper.” He says and clears his throat.

You are disappointed, knowing that he wanted something else but you don’t push him. He had shown that he had no wish to have a relationship with you. “Yes, Don Tovar.” You revert back to your formal politeness and you pick up one of the trays and you will send Carmen in to gather the other. “Good afternoon.”

Pero frowns, wishing to hear his Christian name from your lips and when you carry the tray out of the room, he leans back against the chair, sighing and rubbing his face. He wants this to work. He needs this to work. For the children’s sake. Dinner tonight will be his chance to redeem his terrible behavior.

The rest of the day is spent with the children. After asking Lola to make the Don’s favorite meal, you had finished their lessons and then took them down to the kitchen for both their dinner and their baths. Laughing when they pouted when getting into the water, and then pouting when they had to get out. Once they are clean and in their nightclothes, you chatter and joke with them as you take them back upstairs to put them to bed. Leaving you little time to get ready for dinner with your husband, but it is for the best. You had no time to think about why he wanted to have dinner with you now, so long after your marriage.

Pero adjusts his jacket - not the latest trends but well made, none the less- and he paces in the dining room, wondering if you aren’t coming as the minutes tick by. When you finally appear, you look beautiful and his heart flutters in his chest after laying dormant for so long. He strides forward, taking your hand in his and leans down to press his lips to the back of your hand. “Esposa, you look beautiful.”

“Forgive me for being late, Don Tovar.” You curtsy for him and hate how handsome he is in his evening jacket. “The children were begging for another story before bed and I could not say no.” Your own preparation for dinner had been rushed and you hope that he is not disappointed by your appearance.

Pero shakes his head, “don’t be silly, esposa. The children come first. I trust they are in bed?” He asks and you nod, “they are asleep and in bed.” You smile and Pero keeps your hand in his so he can guide you to your chair. He pulls it out and helps you sit before he makes his way over to his own seat.

Once you are seated, Pero sits across from you and Carmen immediately marches into the dining room with the first course. “Don,” you venture, smiling your thanks to Carmen as she sets down the soup. “I believe that we should hire more staff.” You tell him. “My maid also acts as the housekeeper and now she is serving our dinner. I believe that we need a butler and perhaps a full time housekeeper. That way we are not overworking our staff.”

“You are in charge of the household. If you wish to have another, I will have Carlos and Lola ask around in town.” 

You lift a brow in surprise, your soup spoon nearly to your mouth and you take your bite and swallow before you respond. “Thank you, I will have them ask immediately.” You smile at him again and Pero glances back down at his own soup as if he is shy. “The children are excited about riding with you tomorrow. I was surprised they had not learned already but they have come so far in their lessons.” If it is a rebuke, it is a small one. The children had been very far behind in their lessons and some had not started at all. You had been working diligently to get them on track to where they should be. “They are very bright children. You should be very proud of them.”

Pero’s stomach twists with guilt. He barely knows his children. He doesn’t know that they are behind in their studies when you mention they have much to learn. The guilt twists in his stomach again and he knows he can’t hide from them anymore. “I am.” He answers softly, offering you a rare smile. You are so kind, he doesn’t want to tarnish you with his sins.

Surprised by the smile, you offer one of your own and hope that he is starting to care. You continue to eat in silence, waiting for Pero to talk to you but the silent sounds of eating settles between you. It’s sad, really. This man doesn’t have more questions about his children and doesn’t seem interested in them. When you are done, you set your spoon down and quietly wait for the next course.

Carmen brings in the next course and Pero is struggling to find the words to make conversation. It’s been so long since he had dinner with someone and he’s a little out of practice with his etiquette. “Are you liking Spain or do you miss your home?” He asks you after rubbing his hands together.

“Truly?” You shrug one shoulder and look down at the plate in front of you. “I have not seen much of the country since the carriage ride to your estate.” You remind him, trapped here by your husband’s wishes. “But what I have seen is beautiful. Carlos is very hopeful we can restore the gardens and the greenhouse to their former glory.” You had learned that Pero had ordered that the garden not be planted, just maintained. As flowers would die off, they would not be replanted. At least until you had arrived. You suppose it was because Pero’s first wife had loved spending time in the gardens. The little pond of water had apparently been her favorite spot. 

Pero wants to bite out that the gardens are not to be touched but then he remembers why he brought you here to marry him. He needs someone to maintain his home. “Perhaps we can take a ride soon, I would like to show you my country.” He says softly and looks up after he cuts into his meat.

“I would like that.” He might not mean it. Might not ever do it, since he seems to blow so hot and cold, but you smile. “I have missed riding.” You haven’t gone for rides since the children would want to come with you and they were not accomplished enough to go so far and you do not know the area. “But there has been plenty to keep me busy. Have you any opinion on the changes, Don Tovar?” 

Tovar looks out of the window to the beautiful gardens, now full of flowers after your dedication to the garden, and he turns to look back at you. “The gardens looks gorgeous, mi esposa.” He says and turns back to his meal. “You are bringing the estate back to its former glory.”

“Thank you.” You feel proud that even if he is a man who does not interact with you much, that he sees your improvements to his home. “Was there anything that you wished to discuss with me?” You ask quietly. “I thought that might be why you asked me to have dinner with you?” 

Pero sighs, setting down his cutlery. “I wanted to discuss…if you were looking to have children of your own. We never got a chance to discuss it and I wanted to address the matter as it would mean us…consummating our marriage.” He says, trying to be as matter of fact as possible.

“I had hoped to one day have children.” You confess setting your own cutlery down and hate how handsome he is despite how aloof he acts. “I have put those dreams aside, now.” You look away, back down at your food and you aren’t hungry anymore. “It does not seem that you are interested in….consummating our marriage.”

Picking up his glass of wine, Pero knows he has failed in your marriage already. He’s been selfish and he isn’t sure how he can fix it. The thought of betraying Maria in this final way has his stomach twisting. “Are you- are you interested in consummating the marriage?” He asks softly.

You need to be honest with him. So you are. “I am not interested in being used.” You admit bluntly. “I have no experience with intimate relations, but I do know what to expect.” You assure him. “However, I would not accept being used to fulfill your needs and then ignored until the next time you have use of my body.” You could very well ruin your chances of any kind of relationship with Pero, but he asked. “You are a very handsome man, and I have found myself thinking about you often, but if you have every intention of satisfying your lust and then pretending I don’t exist until the next time you want to touch me, I would rather you just leave me untouched.

Pero nods, appreciating your candor and the way you hold yourself. It makes you more attractive to him. He sips his wine as he contemplates his answer. “I do not wish for you to feel used and I am not capable at this time of more than physical release. If you wish to experience pleasure, I will ensure you are satisfied with our marital bed. However, if you yearn for an emotional connection, then I would suggest we permanently place any relations on hold.”

You smile, albeit sadly. “Don Tovar, I have never expected love in an arrangement. I am not a silly, romantic girl. However, I will require you to respect me if we were to share our marital bed. Take your meals with me and perhaps some evenings beyond our pursuit of pleasure. I don’t require your heart, I know your first marriage was one of love and your affections still lay with your late wife.”

Pero is taken back by your refute to his offer but he appreciates your directness. “Very well. I assure you that I will try my best to ensure you are satisfied physically. Shall we - would tonight be appropriate or do you wish to wait until it happens naturally?”

You hum, amused by the idea of physical relations happening naturally with a man who has not spent more than two hours in your presence since you have been married to him. Perhaps it is foolish, but you want to know what it is like to be touched. “Tonight is fine.” You assure him and pick up your cutlery again. “Do you have any preference for physical intimacy? I do not have any reference, so I will need to be told if there is something I should not do. Or should do.”

Pero nods, “very well. Let us finish our meal and I will allow you as much time as you require to get ready for our consummation.” He assures you and continues to cut into his meal so he can finish eating. Dessert is soon served and you eat in companionable silence before the dishes are cleared away. “Take your time.” He tells you as he stands and waits for you to gather yourself from the dining room table.

You nod. “Give me twenty minutes.” You ask as he takes your hand to walk you to the stairs. “Then I will be ready.” You noticed that he did not answer you about his preferences but figure that he would just show you tonight. After all, it is a husband's job to teach his wife about how he prefers love making.

Pero watches you walk up the stairs and he exhales shakily, realizing that this will be a big step towards cementing your marriage as husband and wife tonight. He clears his throat and makes his way to his chambers to clean himself up. It’s been a while since he’s been intimate but he remembers that women do not like being with men who smell like a long day. He washes and dresses in his linen nightshirt, deciding to keep things simple for the act. Inhaling deeply, he makes his way down the hall to your chambers.

Tovar knocks on the door, heart thumping in his chest, and when you call out for him to come in, he slowly opens the door. “Hola, esposa.” He murmurs after he shuts it behind him. He takes in your figure, glowing in the firelight and his cock twitches under his shirt.

“Hello, husband.” You bite your lip and wonder how he will approach you and this. “What- what do you want me to do?” You ask, watching him carefully, more nervous than you had expected to be. You don’t think he will hurt you, but you had been told the first time is painful and that you would learn to enjoy it. “Do you wish me to get on the bed?”

Pero shakes his head, walking over to you to take your hands in his and he exhales shakily, suddenly nervous. It’s been so long since he’s been with a woman, especially his wife. His heart clenches when he briefly thinks of Maria but he pushes that aside. “Esposa, eres hermosa.” He murmurs, letting go of your hand so he can reach up to caress your cheek. You are beautiful and any man would be lucky to have you as their wife. You deserve better than him, than some half shell of the man he used to be. He slides his hand down to caress your neck and your collarbone, his fingers playing with the edge of your gown. “Can I take this off?” He asks, his dark eyes meeting yours, burning like embers in the flames of the fire.

Mouth dry from that simple touch, you nod. Watching him as his eyes seem to shine like a dark flame and you can help but to think that he is most handsome. His hands skim down over your waist and he tangles the material of your nightgown in his fingers and slowly starts to drag it up. Exposing you to the warmth of the fire and it makes you even hotter as your skin starts to burn from the simplest touch. Tonight you will just let him touch you, hopefully show you what he likes. Maybe you can help him by letting him find pleasure with you.

Pero tosses your gown to the floor and steps back, his dark eyes running down the length of your body. His eyes focus on your tits, swallowing harshly as his gaze lowers to the thatch of curls at the apex of your thighs. “Hermosa.” He murmurs, stepping closer to you, and he reaches out to caress your waist, pulling you up against his body. “Tell me if you want to stop. Or you don’t like anything.”

You nod, wanting to touch him but you don’t ask. Knowing you would hate feeling rejected if he pulled away. Your breathing stutters as his fingers slide up and brush the underside of your breast, nipple hardening and you bite your lip so you don’t moan wantonly. “Pero….” Your whisper is soft, pleading and you wonder why you are so eager to have this man touch you.

His hand squeezes your breast until he notices that you want to touch him so he reaches for your hand, bringing it to his chest. “You can touch me, esposa.” He assures you, inhaling the scent of your bath oil as he leans in to run his nose along the length of your neck.

His own dressing gown is hanging open at the neck and your fingers slide inside to touch hot, tanned skin. Biting your lip and trying to concentrate as his fingers brush over your nipple and make you gasp. Looking down, you see the gown tenting over his cock and your cheeks burn, but you are curious to see what it looks like, reaching down and brushing the fabric close so you can see better.

Pero hisses when your innocent fingers brush his cock. He reaches down, guiding you to wrap your fingers around him. His skin is hot and velvety and you explore him with utter lack of knowledge but he enjoys it. He likes that you have no expectations of him. He can just feel. He murmurs your name and his hand lets go of yours, letting you explore him while his palms continue their own adventure, palming your ass in his grip.

It feels wicked and yet you know that it is perfectly natural to touch him. You need to learn how he feels since he is perhaps the only man you would ever sleep with. Unless you remarry and your husband is obviously a hale and hearty man. “It is so hard.” You murmur in wonder. “And yet so soft.” You gasp when you feel a wetness on your skin and look down to see a smear of liquid on your finger.

He refrains from chuckling at your virginal observations. “Take your time, esposa. We are in no rush. No rush at all. I want to make sure you feel good.” He assures you and he slides his hand down between your legs, finding you wet and wanting him. He loves that and he is going to make you cum. From his fingers, from his cock. He finds your clit and loves the gasp that escapes you as he starts to rub the bundle of nerves.

Your eyes flutter closed and you hand to cling to his shoulder before your knees buckle. “Oh…ohhhh my….” You whimper, your grip on his cock loosening. You don’t know what he’s doing to you but you need more of it. “Pero.”

Pero grabs your waist, keeping you upright and pressed against him while he works your clit. His lips brush your neck by accident and you shiver against him. He rubs your clit a little faster, wanting you to cum for him for the first time. “That’s it, esposa.”

He doesn’t seem to mind touching you, increasing how fast he is rubbing but he’s groaning against your ear and encouraging you. For what you don’t know, you just know that your stomach is fluttering and clenching right up until stars burst behind your eye and you gasp as your cunt clenches on its own and a wave of heat floods your core.

Pero keeps you upright, working you through it and groaning when you bury your face in his neck. He groans your name softly and slides his finger back to gently push it inside of you, wanting to stretch you out so you feel less pain when he finally fucks you.

“Ohhhhhh.” Your eyes wide, mouth hit against his skin as you moan. Surprised to feel his fingers inside you and your body jolts when he pushes them up and presses against something inside you, “oh Pero.” You whimper, closing your eyes and unable to help yourself, you kiss his neck.

He curls his fingers, knowing he needs to make this good for you. He pushes his fingers a little deeper, loving the way you kiss his neck and he knows he should stop you but the intimacy makes his heart twist, his stomach clench. It’s been so long since he enjoyed the touch of someone else. “Fuck.” He curses, his cock twitching.

“Is this- is this how it feels?” You pant softly, your hips rocking up to his hand. Chasing the feeling that he pulls out of you. “All the time?” You are surprised that there aren’t more babies in the world if sex feels like this.

“Sometimes.” Pero chuckles softly, adding another finger, “sometimes it feels good, sometimes it’s just a physical release to relax. Quiero - I want you to feel like this all the time we are intimate, mi esposa.” He murmurs, his hand squeezing your ass to encourage you to rock down onto his fingers.

You feel so good, rocking on your feet as you wantonly move in your husbands arms. Kissing along his neck every time you grind down onto his finger, you feel that sensation start to build inside of you again. “Pero.” You whimper, clutching his shoulders and clenching around his fingers. “Pero- I- again- it’s- it’s-“ you cut yourself off with a small cry, another wave of pleasure and heat flooding you and making you forget about everything but the bliss of his fingers.

The way you clamp down on his fingers has his cock leaking. To hear you so unabashedly enjoying yourself has him groaning and he works you through it. His fingers soaked and he knows you are ready to take him. “Mierda.” He hisses, pressing his cock against your hip as you come back down to earth. Soon enough, he’s withdrawing his fingers and he wipes his fingers on his nightgown. “Come on, esposa. Lay down. I want to fuck my wife.” He says with a slight smile, knowing it’s taken way too long to get to this point in your marriage.

You hum, nearly floating on a cloud as you walk over to your bed and pull the covers back. Climbing into the bed and knowing that you will come out of it properly wed is thrilling and you lay back amongst the pillows. Watching as he walks towards you. “Are you going to remove your shirt, husband?” You ask softly, wanting to see your husband as fully as he has seen you. There is no love between you, but there will be passion and you wish to know what he looks like. 

Pero bites his lip, wondering if he will be good enough. If you will like the scars on his body from his battles won in the war. He exhales shakily and nods, reaching for the hem of his shirt so he can lift it over his head, fully exposing his body to you as you lay in your bed.

He is strong, you can tell that from the corded muscles that spoke of your husband doing much more than just being an idle lord. Bunching and rippling as he stands still for you inspection, you don’t hesitate to let your eyes roam over him. Widening slightly when you get your first look at his cock without some fabric blocking your view. “You are…handsome.” You admit breathlessly. “It- you make my core throb.”

Your words surprise Pero and he smirks, slightly cocky that you are satisfied with his appearance. He shifts closer to the bed until he is kneeling on it, his fingers caressing your ankle bone and up your leg. “That’s good. That��s lust, esposa. Do you desire me? Do you want me inside or you?” He asks, kneeling between your thighs and he doesn’t touch you so you can make the final assessment before he consummates the marriage.

Even though you are innocent, you are aware of what should happen. Feeling bold by the lust that is in his own eyes, you spread your thighs to reveal the thatch of curls covering your core. “Please, Pero.” 

“Mierda.” Tovar mutters and caresses your thighs. When he looks into your eyes and sees your certainty, he nods and reaches down to grip his cock. Shuffling closer, he notches himself at your entrance and slowly, so slowly, pushes inside of you. “Fuck.” He pants, trying to control himself but you’re so wet and tight. He exhales shakily and pushes deeper, wanting to make sure you are as comfortable as possible despite him taking your innocence.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling a pinch but it is not the painful experience that you had been led to believe that it was. Moaning softly as you feel him deep inside, seemingly deeper than his fingers had been, and throbbing. Your fingers dig into his shoulders again and you slowly open your eyes as you breathe out. “Pero.” 

The urge to bury himself inside of you is strong but he remains in control, slowly rocking his hips so he can work his cock deeper inside of you until he is settled inside of you. He knows you are a keen horse rider so your innocence was likely taken during a saddling but he doesn’t care. He’s damaged goods himself and he knows some men would want you to be intact but this is kinder to you and to him. He closes his eyes once he’s fully inside of you, his fists clenched as he tries to not spill his seed before you can experience the pleasure of sex.

“I- I feel so full.” You whimper, your fingers dragging across his skin and your legs shuffling slightly. He’s so still on top of you and it makes you want to move, need to move. To chase the same sensation you felt when you had his fingers inside you. You gasp when you think of what you heard your maids back home giggling about. Riding a man as if he were a horse and you clench down around him thinking about riding Pero like that, his cock deep inside you. 

Pero hisses when you clamp down on his cock and he inhales deeply. He reaches down to grab your thigh and he lifts it higher so he can sink deeper inside of you. “Fuck.” He pants and starts to move slowly.

You moan again, eyes widening at how well you feel him. “I- oh Pero.” You whimper, trying to roll you hips down but he has you nailed to the bed with his cock. “I-f-fuck.” You stammer out, the curse unfamiliar on your tongue but it feels like it is necessary for what you are feeling right now as your husband moves inside you. 

Your curse has his cock twitching inside of you and he groans when your walls squeeze him. “Fuck, esposa. You feel - it’s - perfect.” He allows you a minute access to his thoughts and that seems to make you wild. Clamping down on his cock and arching your back to egg him on. He starts to move faster, lowering his hips and groaning your name as he tries to make this good for you.

You enjoy the rough sound of his voice. Moaning again as he starts up a rhythm to his movements and making you nearly gasp every time he pushes deep. You slide your hands down your back, playing over scars and working muscles rippling under the skin. You feel like he approved of your curse so you do it again, followed by his name. “It’s so intense.”

He likes to hear that because it’s a lot to him too. To be intimate with his wife. He never imagined he’d remarry but he starts to think it’s possible to have a marriage with you, to be able to survive without Maria…perhaps even be happy. He enjoys your touch and slides his hand up to cup your breast, squeezing and he shifts so he can lean down to take your nipple into his mouth.

You hadn’t expected his mouth. Wrongly assuming that kissing being too intimate meant any part of your body and not just your lips. “Pero!” You cry out loud enough that the servants might hear and arch your back up, wanting more of the pleasure of his mouth at your breast. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whimper, shivering.

He loves hearing you curse, his cock twitching inside of you, and he switches over to your other breast. He bites down on your flesh, nipping and sucking, and he moves inside of you, grinding deep. “You like this, hermosa?” He asks, lost in the pleasure of being inside of you.

“Yes, yes Pero.” You moan, closing your eyes and lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. You know that you are making him feel good. At least you hope you are. Feeling his thrusts start to build faster, his breathing catching and starting to pant against your skin. “So much.”

He grunts when he feels you starting to clench around him and he drops his hips so he can press his pelvis where you need him more. “Cum for me.” He pleads with a groan, needing to feel you cum before he finds his own high. “Por favor, esposa. Cum.” He demands and drags his tongue along your sternum.

You shiver at the feeling of his tongue on your skin. “Ohhhh Pero!” You cry out, body starting to shake underneath his with the next thrust of his hips as you start to fall apart. Pleasure whipping through every inch of your body as you moan.

He clenches his eyes shut when you clamp down on his cock and he bites down on your shoulder as he barely manages to pull out of you, his hot seed spilling on your thigh. “Fuck.” He pants, cock twitching against your hip as he rides his orgasm.

Your eyes open and you frown in confusion as you feel the wetness of his seed on your skin. “I- is something wrong?” You pant quietly, wondering if you’ve somehow disappointed him.

He frowns, pulling back to look down at you. “What are you talking about? I- nothing is wrong.” He’s trying to catch his breath and he shifts to lay down beside you. “It was good.” He assures you, “did you not enjoy it?”

“You-“ You bite your lip and look up at the ceiling. “You spilled your seed on my thighs.” You murmur quietly, wondering if there was something wrong with you that caused him to do that. He was supposed to finish inside you. That’s what everyone said.

Pero closes his eyes, trying to conceal the pain. “I know - I know we aren’t - tonight was our first night but - but I can’t risk you being with child so soon.” He admits, reminded once again of Maria dying during childbirth.

“I-I am so sorry.” You close your own eyes, mortified that you had brought up something so personal to him. “I understand. Forgive me for being so thoughtless.” You know you have ruined things and you swallow down a sigh.

Pero shakes his head, shifting to swing his legs over the side of the bed. “Don’t worry, esposa. I- I’ll leave you to clean up. I have work to attend to.” He declares as he stands and reaches for his nightgown. “I shall see you tomorrow.” He says, turning to look at you after he edged towards the door.

You nod. “Yes.” You know he wants to leave and you sit up, his seed cooling on your skin. “I will clean up and then choose another book from the library before I go to bed. Goodnight, husband.”

“Buenas noches, esposa.” Pero says and swiftly leaves your room. Tonight, he gave in to his desires and left you upset after he pulled out of you. He knows you will urge him to have a child soon and he isn’t sure he is ready for that conversation but for now, he will retire to his quarters to read over the accounts before he falls asleep. He’s not entirely sure how long he can continue keeping you at arms length but he has to try. He cannot lose another wife.

**** 

The next morning, you are surprised to find your husband in the dining room when you come in. “Buenas días, husband.” You see that he is reading some papers, so you move to your normal seat with the cup of tea you had retrieved yourself when you had gone in to see Lola. “I hope your night was restful.” You had decided that you understood where Pero stood on getting you with child and you wished to speak with him about it. “Have you ever used a- a condom before?” You ask him. “My maid back home said they can be purchased from the chemist. Perhaps that would be a good solution?”

Pero raises his eyebrows over his newspaper, watching you for a moment until he chuckles. “Is that what you wish for us to use? I am happy to let you manage our…situation if you wish.” He trusts you and he isn’t sure when that changed.

“You said that you did not wish for me to be - to have a child.” You don’t add the ‘yet’ portion because you feel like he would rather that be ‘at all’. “So a co-condom would help.” You shrug, slightly self conscious now. “We don’t have to use one.”

Pero nods, understanding what you are saying and he appreciates your planning. “Let us have Carmen fetch us some things and then we have the choice.” He says, knowing that it will be hard to keep away from you now that he knows how you feel. The passion inside of you scares him and he knows if he allows it, he will lose himself in you. He can’t put his heart back on the line and the children need a mother. With a nod, he goes back to eating his pan con tomate and knows that you will take care of the issue of birth control.

Carmen brings you a plate of food and you thank her, eating in silence with your husband. You had not expected grand conversations with him, at least at the beginning, so you do not try to disturb him with idle chit chat and when you stand after finishing, you give him a small smile. “Have a good day, husband.” You wish him softly.

Pero watches you go and realizes that maybe he doesn’t just want this to be a marriage of mutual benefit. He finishes his breakfast in peace and decides to spend the rest of the day near the children.

****

“Where is my wife?” Pero asks Carmen, who frowns, “she’s in her chambers, Don Tovar.” She answers and Pero frowns, making his way to your rooms and he is even more confused when he enters and calls your name, only to find you aren’t there.

Biting your lip, you urge the horse faster. Knowing that you are breaking your word to your husband, but it cannot be helped. Luis is feverish, and Carmen and Lola had been nowhere to be found when you had gone searching for them. Frantic about your husband’s son, you know it would destroy Pero to lose the last bit of his wife that she had given him. So you broke your promise. Currently racing to town to fetch the doctor, you pray that the instructions you had given his sister were working and that you will be able to bring the doctor back from town in time.

When Pero finds the children, he’s frantic when he’s told that Luis has a fever and you have left to go to town to find the doctor. He can hardly contain his anxiety, his hands shaking, and he growls at Carlos, “I’m going to fucking find her!” He feels like he’s losing control, his heart pounding and his breathing is heavy. His legs feel like lead and his brain focuses on you and his children. Is Luis dying? Is this his punishment for his time in the war? Is he going to lose you? He pants and collapses to his knees, Carlos reaching out to steady him as his vision goes cloudy. “I- I - can’t save them.”

It is to your detriment that you haven’t been to town, wasting precious time to find the doctor and demanding that he come with you back to the Tovar estate. Shaking with fear and praying that you make it back in time to help your little boy. You didn’t give birth to him, but you have grown close to the children and you have come to love their personalities now they are being taught and challenged, time being spent with them. The mischief of your first meeting was long gone. Rushing to your horse and as soon as the doctor is mounted on his own, racing for home.

Pero manages to stand up, shoving Carlos away as he demands to know where you’ve gone. “I - Alejandra said she’s gone to the town.” Pero doesn’t waste a second, rushing to the stables and swinging his leg over his stallion, no saddle, he pushes the horse to the limit as he gallops towards town. Images of you injured or dead flash in his mind and he realizes how you have wiggled his way into his mind and heart. Your kindness and the feel of you beneath him have his heart twisting at the thought of anything happening to you.

Frowning, you spot a rider in the distance on the road. Unsure of who it might be, you glance back at the doctor who is on your horses heels and then forward again. Recognizing the haste in the way you see the horse being pushed, dread knots in your stomach, realizing that it must be your husband. Lifting a hand, even though he is too far away to shout to, you wonder if he will beat you for disobeying him.

Pero sees you as he gallops and he nearly falls off of the horse when he pulls on its hair to slow it down. “You - what the fuck do you think you are you doing?” Pero yells as you approach him and the doctor’s horse skids as he comes to a stop.

“Luis! Luis has a fever!” You cry out, panting for breath as your horse stomps and shakes underneath you, “I- I had to get the doctor.” Your own mother had died from a fever sickness and the idea of losing his little boy on your watch makes you want to be sick. “I- we must hurry Pero! He cannot die, not like mama!”

Pero nods, knowing that now is not the time to have this argument. “You’re unharmed?” Pero asks and you nod frantically. His heart is pounding but you are safe and unharmed from what he can tell so he turns his horse around and the three of you gallop back to his estate, back in front of the sick little boy in record time. Pero kneels beside Luis, watching the doctor and he swallows harshly, “por favor. Just - do something.”

You twist your hands, knowing that Pero is worried and you start to pray yourself. Carmen has Alejandra in the other room and you can hear her comforting the older child. The doctor works and you worry, pacing the floors continuously, eager to bring the doctor anything he might need and bringing in the basin of cold water that Lola brings up.

Pero holds his son’s hand while the doctor assesses him and murmurs prayers as you kneel beside him. He reaches for your other hand, squeezing it as he prays and the doctor starts to drain the boy’s blood in hopes of bringing down the fever. “Bleeding should help the fever break. If not, I have some bark I think will help.” 

Pero swallows, his throat is dry, “whatever you can do. I- I can’t lose him.”

You try to be there for him. Sitting strong and praying as the doctor continues to bleed the boy until he claims that it is enough. Wiping him down and checking his forehead again with a small frown before he moves over to the teapot he had requested with boiling water. You squeeze Pero’s hand and glance at your husband’s worried face.

Pero doesn’t know how long he lays there, his heart and mind weary as he watches his son. The doctor gave him the tea and left, stating it “is in God’s hands now.” He’s not eaten, he hasn’t slept. He just sits there and watches the little boy breathe. He doesn’t know where you are, he sometimes wonders but he’s too concerned about his son.

You watch. Waiting for anything and everything that Pero or Luis might need. Often leaving the room to comfort Alejandra and to let her know how her brother is doing. You don’t want her to feel forgotten and eventually you allow her to come into the room after promising to be quiet. The two of you sit in a chair behind Pero and eventually curl up together and fall asleep together from exhaustion and worry.

Pero isn’t sure when he fell asleep, perhaps the exhaustion got to him and he simply rested his head on the cool sheets, his eyes closing without his knowledge. “Papa.” He doesn’t hear the weak murmur at first. “Papa.” A small hand touches his hair and Pero’s nose wrinkles. “Papa.” The voice is stronger and wakes Pero up, his head shooting up to see Luis lucid and awake. 

“Luis” He gasps, reaching for him to check his views. His eyes are clear, his forehead cool but not cold. He’s okay. “Mi amor.” Pero chokes, wrapping his arms around the little boy to pull him into his arms.

You wake up, rousing Alejandra in your arms and nearly sob with relief that Luis is awake and alert. “Mama, is Luis okay?” Alejandra demands, her own worry for her brother causing her to not think about what she calls you. Your eyes widen and you try not to tear up at the honorary name, nodding and brushing her tangled hair back from her face and holding her close despite being on your lap. “It looks like he is.” You hum. “Go hug him and your papa.”

Alejandra nods, rushing over to her papa and her brother and she wraps her arms around them. Pero shifts, gathering the children into his arms and he sniffs, trying to ignore the tears that sting in his eyes as he embraces them. “Te amo, mijos.” He murmurs and looks over at you, “come here, esposa.” He gestures for you to come over to them.

Standing up, you are happy to see such a touching moment between the small family. You know you are a part of it now, but they are reminders of his wife and very dear to him. Walking over, you ruffle Luis’ hair and smile. “You gave us all a fright, Luis.” You hum, sliding your hand to your husband’s shoulder.

Pero reaches up to grip your hand in his, his terror at losing you or one of his children now subsided and in its place is joy that he doesn’t have to suffer another loss. The four of you embrace until Carmen comes in to attend to Luis, wanting him to eat something and drink. Pero tells Alejandra to stay with her brother and she nods. “I need to speak with you.” Pero says to you, his voice deepening as he reaches for your hand.

You swallow, aware that he will now punish you. You had disobeyed him and you know from everyone that Pero is a stern man. You follow him quietly, wondering why he is still holding your hand as he guides you out of the nursery towards your bedroom.

When Pero opens the door to your chambers, he pushes you inside. “What were you thinking?” He hisses, dropping your hand as he glares at you, “I told you to never go into town.”

“I was thinking that Luis was in danger.” You won’t apologize for your actions, but you understand his anger. “He needed the doctor and I could not find anyone.” You stand straight and stiffen your spine. “If you punish me, that is you right. But I would do it again. My mother died of fever and I did not want you to lose your last gift from your wife.”

Your words take Pero back and his jaw drops, staring at you as he absorbs your words. Your kindness knows no bounds it seems and that’s the moment it clicks for Pero. Unable to stop himself, he surges forward and you think he’s about to hit you but he doesn’t, instead, his lips press against yours.

You had flinched, you could admit that yourself but then you are gasping against Pero’s mouth, shocked that he is kissing you. He had told you that he wouldn’t do that again; it was too intimate for him. Yet his lips are warm and soft against yours and you cannot help but melt into him.

His hands grip your waist and his mouth moves against yours, his tongue sliding along your lower lip as he pulls you up against him. You moan into his mouth and his hands reach down to tug your skirts up, his hands soon pulling his cock free from his breeches, hard and aching. He needs you and he hopes you want him too.

You had expected a beating, not for your husband to fuck you. But you aren’t going to push him away. Your fingers tug on your petticoats and you quickly push them down. “Husband.” You gasp out when he pulls his lips away. “Please.” You whimper, enjoying his apparent need for you.

His hand grabs your thigh, lifting it over your hip so he can position his cock at your entrance and he pushes inside of you with a groan. “Fuck, hermosa.” He murmurs, caressing your thigh as he pushes deeper.

“Oh god.” You would probably collapse if he didn’t have his hand on your waist and use his strength to keep you upright. Wanting to kiss him again, you wonder if that was a fluke and he wouldn’t kiss you but you turn your head to kiss along his jaw while he throbs inside you.

He turns his head to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours as he starts to move inside of you. You’re so wet and tight and alive. You’re alive. He focuses on you and your touch, his mouth moving against yours as he presses you against the wall.

You had never considered that your husband could fuck you against a wall, and yet, it’s thrilling. You moan into his mouth and cling to him, not caring that his hips push you back against the wainscoting every time he thrusts into you. Your own tongue touches against his and your entire body shivers with pleasure.

“Fuck. Mi esposa. I- Don’t want to lose you.” He murmurs, kissing along your jaw, and he kisses down your throat as he lifts your hip a little higher so he can push deeper inside of you. “Fuck. Please. I need - I need you.”

“Pero.” You whimper, closing your eyes and letting him do whatever he needs to you. You are starting to fall for him, especially with how he worried for Luis.

It’s hard to imagine his days without you now. Cold nights alone have turned into passionate escapades scattered throughout the day, touches leading through the night. He has tried to stay away but you’ve drawn him in. He continues to work his cock in and out of you, groaning as he presses his lips to yours again.

Closing your eyes, you give yourself over to him completely. Clinging to him as he fucks you so deeply you know they you will be feeling him for days after. Even though he’s not wearing a condom, you expect him to pull out and spill his seed outside your body. The condom had been great and you loved the feeling of him pulsing inside you.

Pero kisses along your jaw, breathing you in and he needs you to clamp down on his cock. He grabs your other thigh, lifting you up completely as the adrenaline surges through him and he grunts as he lifts you up and down his cock, still pressing you against the wall.

Gasping, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to wrap your legs around him, your skirts bunched between you. “Fuck, Pero, I- I love you.” You moan quietly; needing to at least whisper it even though he doesn’t feel the same way. “So close.”

He hears it but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he presses his lips to yours and when you whine into his mouth, he groans against your lips when you clamp down on his cock. He should pull out but he doesn’t, too focused on you and how you feel and how he could’ve lost you. He grunts and keeps thrusting you through your orgasm until finally, he’s pushing deep and filling you full of his hot seed, painting your walls.

Your eyes widen and you are too busy worrying about the feeling of his hot seed inside you. Knowing he will regret it you are savoring this one moment. “Pero- Pero you have to let me- I have to bathe.” You whimper.

He doesn’t release you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pants again at your chin, enjoying the feel of you surrounding him. “Don’t.” He murmurs, not wanting to let you go just yet. He can’t lose another person from his life that he cares for.

You frown but you don’t push him away, deciding that he knows what he is doing. “Okay, husband.” You pant softly, feeling him throb inside of you and start to soften. “Is-is this my punishment?” You ask teasingly.

Pero chuckles softly, pulling out of you and lowering you down to the floor. Your skirts settle down and he reaches down to tuck his cock back into his breeches. “No punishment.” He assures you and reaches for your hands, “please…just do not go into town unless you are escorted.” He compromises, knowing that it will be hard to overcome his anxiety surrounding town but he cannot keep you prisoner.

You bite your lip, aware that your husband is compromising. “Yes.” You murmur softly, leaning in and pressing your lips to his cheek. You don’t want to push him for more than he will give you so you won’t kiss him on the lips unless he kisses you first. “Thank you, Pero.” You hum, smiling as you pull back to look into his dark eyes. “I will have an escort.”

Pero nods, letting go of your hands and he is pleased that he could compromise. The idea of you going into town terrifies him, he doesn’t want to lose you. The children clearly love you and he - he has affection for you. 

**** 

Pero looks up at you as you enter the dining room. He stands up, walking over to pull your chair out for you, taking over the job from the footman. “You look beautiful, esposa.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek as you stand before him and he helps you sit down.

“Thank you.” You give Pero a smile, but you’re slightly nervous. Your monthly time has been missed for several months now and you woke up feeling nauseous and your breasts being sore. You are with child and while your husband has become warmer to you, you don’t know how he will react. It’s true that there have been several times since the day Luis was sick that he hasn’t worn the condom, he had also still worn it and never said anything about having children with you or your confession of your feelings. You’ve never repeated those words again. “I’ll just have some weak tea and toast.” You tell the footman before he disappears to let Lola know you are ready for breakfast.

Pero frowns, usually you order more at breakfast and he wonders if you are unwell. “Are you ill, esposa?” He asks and wonders if you are okay. He watches you as you eye the cup of tea with a grimace and he calls Carlos over to order the doctor to come to the house.

“I think that I might have some kind of stomach malady.” You admit with a small groan, covering your nose from the aroma of the tea. “It should pass.” You have an idea of what is wrong but you don’t wish to alarm Pero.

Pero is concerned but knows the doctor will help you and Carlos will ensure his swift arrival. Your breakfast is hardly touched and he will inform Carmen to let Lola know to prepare a light but generous lunch for you. He is concerned, knowing how Luis was and he’s terrified that you are going to end up with the same fate.

After breakfast, you still feel ill, laying down and resting even though you know you should be watching the children. You feel dizzy and nauseous and you wonder if all women feel this way when they are pregnant. You are sure that is what is going on, emptying your stomach of the tea and the few bites of toast you had managed into the chamber pot under your bed.

Pero greets the doctor, escorting him to your chambers. This is the same doctor who was present when Maria died and the midwife called for him after there were complications. The two men exchange a look before Carmen announces the doctor’s arrival. “I will leave you to it.” Pero says after everyone enters.

“Oh, I didn’t know Pero was calling a doctor.” You sit up, embarrassed and hoping that the nausea has passed. “I am afraid that I am not quite feeling myself.” You admit when he tuts and brings his bag over. “I think- I think I might be ….” You lower your voice. “Expecting.”

The doctor nods, “very well. Let us check and we can confirm, Señora Tovar.” He says softly and under Carmen’s watchful eye, he performs his tests. Feeling your stomach, he smiles. “Congratulations, Señora. You are with child.” He offers you a soft smile and Carmen grins, “congratulations.”

“Thank you.” It’s a relief to know that is what is wrong, but you wonder how Pero will take the news that you are expecting his child. “What can be done about the nausea?” You ask him softly. “My mother died young and I have never been around someone expecting.”

“I have a tea I can provide your cook with to assist with the sickness.” The doctor informs you and is soon bidding you goodbye. When the doctor exits your quarters, Pero looks up, eyes questions and the doctor pats his shoulder. “I believe your wife had good news.” Pero swallows, knowing what that means and he thanks the doctor before Carlos escorts him out. 

Exhaling shakily, he walks over to your room and knocks, entering your chambers to find you sitting on the edge of the bed. He sits down beside you and reaches for your hand, “esposa.”

“I’m sorry, Pero.” You start quietly, looking down at your joined hands. “I know that you wished to wait, or to never have children with me.” You are worried that he will be upset, that it will ruin the closeness you have felt with him lately. “I do not know what happened. I’m - I am going to have your child.”

He squeezes your hand, “don’t know what happened? I think I do.” He chuckles softly. “And…and I’m not angry about it. I knew what could happen and you are an incredible mother to Luis and Alejandra. I think you’ll be amazing.” He assures you, “and I - I want to have a child that is half you and half me.”

You let out the breath you had been holding and smile. Relieved that he is not upset and you are able to be excited for the first time. “I think it will be wonderful.” You admit, although you frown after a moment. “I promise I will not go into town, even with an escort, when my time draws near.” You don’t want him to worry about another wife, even if he doesn’t love you, he would worry.

Pero nods his gratefulness, knowing you now understand his anxiety and reaction. Especially after you ran off to fetch the doctor. He knows he is going to be even more protective of you. “It’s good news, hermosa.” He promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead, brushing his nose against yours until his lips brush your lips.

You’ve found there is comfort in his kisses. A certain sense of home that you’ve not found anywhere else as the nights in his bed progressed. It was often you ended up sleeping together after your pleasure but you had never voiced that sentiment of love again. You desperately want to say it again, but you are afraid to, afraid of being reminded that you are not his late wife and he had warned you that he wouldn’t love you.

**** 

As your pregnancy progresses, Pero gets more and more anxious. He’s nervous of the birth, reminded once again of Maria dying after giving birth to Luis. He swallows harshly as he leans against the wall, trying to calm his racing heart. You’re going to give birth soon according to the midwife and each day makes his anxiety threaten to overwhelm him.

Every day that passes, you can see your husband slowly start to unravel. He is sleeping less and worrying about you. Not even allowing you on the stairs without someone. Making you ring a bell to have someone come help you. Most often he works from your chambers, moving his work to your writing desk. You sigh as you slide your hand over your stomach, panting slightly. The pains had started last night but you had kept it from him, knowing he wouldn’t sleep and he desperately needed the rest.

Pero sees Carmen rushing through the halls and she slows down when she sees him. “What’s happening?” He asks, frowning, and the young woman bites her lip. “Tell me.” He demands and Carmen knows she can’t deny him, “she’s having pains. The birth is happening. I must fetch the midwife.” Carmen rushes out and Pero’s eyes widen. 

“Fetch the doctor too. I will take no chances.” He says and Carmen nods, rushing off. Pero drops everything he is doing and rushes to your chambers, “esposa. Is it true? You’re having pains?” He asks, eying you in the chair in the corner.

You would deny it, to spare him a bit more time but another pain makes you clutch your stomach. Bending over slightly as you start to moan quietly. It lasts for a long time and by that time you relax, you are panting. “I am.”

Pero rushes over to you. Guiding you over to the bed, “come, you must lay down.” He shakes his head, trying to take your shoes off. “Why didn’t you send for me?” He asks, caressing your ankle as you settle against the pillows.

“You have not been sleeping.” You remind him quietly. “I know you need rest and if I told you, there was not any rest in your future.”

Your whimpers make his heart clench and he shakes his head. “Mi - esposa. Come, do not worry about me. I will worry until the babe is in your arms and you are well and healthy.” His voice wavers for a moment and he wonders if you notice as he wipes your forehead of the beads of sweat.

“It will be well.” The midwife has assured you that you are carrying well for a first time birth and believes that it will be a simple thing. Reaching for his hand, you smile at him softly. “I have already asked that you be allowed in the birthing room if you need.”

Pero is surprised and pleased, kissing your damp forehead. “I won’t leave you.” He promises and brushes his lips against yours. “I’ll be here. Every single second.” He vows as Carmen comes back in with water and a flannel.

You get changed into a clean nightgown, Carmen helping you although you don’t mind your husband being there. He has seen you naked more than your own nanny when you were a child. Getting settled back down into the bed, you grip Pero’s hand and cry out when the next pain washes over you.

Pero lets you squeeze his hand as you try to ride the pain. You whimper and Pero frowns, “where is the midwife?” He asks, starting to get impatient. “And the doctor? I called for him as well.” He growls, looking over at Carmen.

“They are coming, Don Tovar.” She assures him, knowing that he is worried about his wife. Everyone has seen how much the Don has come to care about his wife and they are all happy for him. You are kind and loving and it will be good for him to love again. “The doctor is impressed with your wife and has already said he will come whenever summoned.”

“He needs to be here. I will allow no one to take a singular risk. I won’t have my wife’s health and the baby’s health put in danger.” He hisses and squeezes your hand when you groan at the pain. “Are you - you need anything?” Pero asks, wanting to make sure you have everything you need.

“Water.” You beg quietly. Labor is harder work that you realized and you feel parched from it. 

Pero nods and squeezes your hand again. “Whatever you want.” He promises, kissing your hand and rushing over to the tray Carmen had brought you earlier.

Pero returns with the water, letting you sip it and he wipes your forehead with the wet rag Carmen hands him. It seems like the sun is setting when you are finally ready to push. The midwife checking you and announcing it’s time. Pero is terrified, this was the time Maria lost too much blood. He remembers the sheets being soaked with it as Luis cried. He grips your hand, sweat beading on his brow as his heart starts to pound

Clenching your teeth together, you try to make sure that you don’t scream during the next pain. It makes Pero uneasy every time, he pales when you scream and grip his hand as tight as you can. You know that he is scared and even though you are in pain, you’re worried about him.

Pero feels unwell but tries to stay strong, each clenched scream bringing you closer to having his next child and he is terrified. Terrified of losing you. During your marriage, he has grown close to you. Spending many nights in your bed, even if he hadn’t touched you. He can’t imagine his life without you now. “Come on hermosa, you can do it. Push.” He urges you on, wanting you to concentrate.

Nodding, you sit up slightly and start to push. Bearing down with all your might, you see the midwife between your thighs as you start to feel more pressure.

Pero watches you push, his eyes darting between you and the midwife and he’s worried, he’s so scared that he’s gonna lose you. His hand grips yours as he watches you push and he’s silently praying.

“I can’t- it is too much.” You gasp out, falling back against the sheets as you pant. 

The midwife clicks her tongue and looks up at you. “One more push, señora, and the bebita will be in your arms.” She promises you. “Next time the pain comes you push as hard as you can.”

“You can do it, hermosa. You can do it.” He eggs you on, sweat beading on his forehead as he watches you struggle. “Come on, mi amor. Come on.” He says, wiping your forehead.

You close your eyes, tears leaking out of the corners as you barely hear the words that you have wished for far longer than you should have. Holding his hand, you nod, bearing down with all your strength and pushing your baby into the world. Feeling them slip from your womb with a rush of relief.

Pero watches the midwife cradle the crying babe, her smile wide and Pero starts to cry, relieved and so happy at seeing his child born. “Felicidades, Don Tovar, it’s a boy.” She announces and Pero leans in to kiss your head. 

“A boy, amor,”

“A boy.” You sob, exhausted and relieved and more than a little emotional about hearing ‘amor’ again. Almost terrified that he is thinking of his late wife and reliving that horrible night with a happier ending through you. “We have another son.” You pant, reaching for the baby when the midwife hands him to you.

Pero looks down at the screaming babe in your arms. His eyes sting with tears and he looks at you in awe. “A boy. Another boy.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Amor.”

“He’s beautiful.” You murmur quietly, brushing your hand over his wet forehead. “Perfect.” His ten little fingers are curled into fists and he has ten perfect little toes. “Isn’t he?” You ask, looking up at your husband after you manage to tear your eyes away from your new baby.

Pero leans in to rest his forehead against yours, loving how you are cradling the baby and he knows Luis and Alejandra are excited for his arrival. “He’s perfect. So is his mother.” He murmurs, caressing the baby’s head.

You hum, not sure how to take that and look back down at the baby. He’s turning his face towards you and crying, searching for your breast. “Put him on the breast.” The midwife tells you. “Your milk will come.” You nod, opening your nightgown and guiding him towards your breast and gasping when he latches into your nipple.

Pero watches in awe, the midwife working on helping you with the afterbirth and the baby mouths at your nipple. Pero kisses your forehead again, he’s so perfect. You’re perfect. Hermosa, I- I love you.” Pero chokes, never imagining that he’d fall in love again but he couldn’t help it, you’re too beautiful and kind. The children love you and you’ve made his life so much better.

Your eyes widen and you look up at Pero in shock. “You- you love me?” You ask in astonishment, sure that would never happen for you. He nods and you start to cry. “I love you too Pero, I love you and our three children.”

Pero leans in to kiss you, “I love you. So much. I- I didn’t think - after Maria - you’ve brought this home, my children…me…back to life.” He murmurs and kisses your forehead. “Mi esposa, hermosa, amor. You are everything to me. I owe you the world.” He murmurs, looking down at the little boy.

Your smile is watery, but overjoyed. You had come to Spain to marry a man you didn’t know and was told that he could never love you. Now you have a beautiful son, two other children that adore you and your them, and a loving husband. Your father had chosen right. You were a family.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #pero tovar fanfic #pero tovar the great wall #regency pero tovar x reader #regency pero tovar #tovar x you #tovar x reader #tovar x f!reader #tovar smut #tovar fanfiction #tovar imagine

[xx-kitsune-xx]

Fatal Allure

Leon x Reader

Summary: To save the country from a devastating war, your parents promised their only daughter's hand in marriage to the first prince of a rival country. Ignoring your own fears, you face the future you were fated to have. You only hoped that the heir to the throne would not turn out to be a monster.

Warnings: Royalty AU, Arranged Marriage, Porn with Plot, P in V sex, Loss of Virginity, a tiiiiiny bit of angst in the beginning, no use of y/n This is also my first time writing smut so... yeah, you have been warned

Word count: 4.8k

Also on Ao3!

As you looked into the mirror, you could feel your heart tighten. You looked… mesmerising. A beautiful lady looked back at you from the mirror. Perfectly pinned up hair, adorned with crystals, impeccable make-up and the beautiful gown befitting the future queen.

You looked like the perfect bride. Or you would, if your reflection smiled. You sighed and smoothed the material of your dress one last time, before someone knocked at the door.

“My lady,” you heard a woman’s voice as the door opened. It was one of your servants, Claire. The young woman had only recently joined the palace staff, but you had grown very fond of her. Being close in age helped you get along. “It is time” She said, offering you a sad smile.

For a moment you wondered if she knew what was going on in your mind. If she could read the thoughts of running away and never coming back from your face. If she did, you were glad she didn’t try to comfort you or offer any words of wisdom. You had enough of the latter from your mother. If you heard one more ‘you’ll learn to love him’ you’d become violent towards the person who uttered the words.

With a final sigh, you nodded and followed the servant out of the room. With each step, the weight of your duty grew.

An arranged marriage was hardly the future you had imagined for yourself. You had always imagined true love, someone who would sweep you off your feet and promise you the world. Someone you could trust. And here you were, about to marry the future king of the neighbouring country. Though you hardly considered it a marriage, despite the words of everyone around you. ‘Royalty always marries this way’ they said, or ‘I met your father once before we got married! And we are happy!‘ – something you wanted to argue with, because apart from official events, they spent barely any time together.

But the sweet words and assurances that you would be happy, you knew this was no ordinary arranged marriage. It was a peace offering from your parents, who were losing the war. A last resort to save themselves and their country. And they didn’t even ask!

You clenched your fists as anger once again seeped into your body. You could still run. Or try to embarrass your parents during the ceremony, to show your defiance. What would happen if you simply said you wouldn't marry the prince? Would he start the war again? You didn’t exactly know what he was capable of – after all, you only knew him for his achievements on the battlefield!

“My lady, are you well?” the sweet voice of your servant brought you out of your trance. It was only then that you realised you had stopped walking, only a few steps from the doors of the wedding hall.

You looked at the poor girl and the guards standing behind you. No turning back now. You met the servant's gaze once more and offered a smile. Once behind this door, you would have to start looking like you wanted to be here. You might as well start now.

“I am” you replied briefly, walking the rest of the way to the door. You straightened up as someone put a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You stopped yourself from turning around to see who it was, but suspected it was one of the guards. Somehow the thought of one of those big men walking all this way with a wedding bouquet for you amused you. So much so, that when the door opened, the smile on your lips was an honest one.

Music began to play and everyone turned to look at you, but you couldn’t concentrate on them. Your eyes were fixed on your future husband. A pit in your stomach deepened as the reality hit you. This was now your future. No a bad dream or an ill-conceived joke. In a few hours life would never be as it was.

The walk to the altar was faster than you had hoped. It seemed that it wasn't true what they said, the time did not stop in stressful situations. It rushed, like it couldn’t wait to get to whatever you were most afraid of at the moment.

You looked around, muting whatever the priest was saying. Everything looked dreamy, and if you were here of your own free will, you would deem it beautiful. The venue was out of this world. Your eyes swept over the decorations, the guests and then landed on your future husband. He looked puzzled, and for a second you wondered whether the same expression was on your face. 

The silence enveloped the room and you could only wonder if the time had stood still. No one moved or even whispered as your future husband took your hands in his, offering you a light squeeze. The ceremony went on, but neither of you seemed to be paying attention. The prince never took his eyes off of you, whispering words meant only for your ears.

“I promise that I will respect your wishes and give you freedom.” He began, offering you a gentle smile. “You do not deserve to be trapped somewhere against your will.” You couldn’t help the exhale that escaped your lips as he straightened up again, seemingly trying to focus back on the ceremony.

But you couldn't think of anything else but his words.  ‘You do not deserve to be trapped somewhere against your will’. It pained your heart to know that he wasn't mistaken about your feelings about the whole situation. Worse, he was here against his will as much as you were. Once again you felt the anger at your parents' plan.

But deep inside, a small flame of hope ignited in your chest. Although you could only judge him by the couple of words he whispered, a small promise he made. But he seemed… reasonable Unlike most of the princes you've met. Well… mostly unlike your brothers, who would be happy to be in his place – not to marry you of course (not that the marriages between family were unheard of, but this was never such a close family), but just to marry a good-looking woman who couldn’t exactly say no.

“I do.” Leon said, gently slipping a ring on your finger. You realised you spaced out again, this time doing your best to actually focus on the ceremony.

“Do you…” The priest turned to face you now. “…take Leon Scott Kennedy as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death do you part?”

You practised saying I do precisely for this moment, to not hesitate. To not show so many people that you were not sure about this marriage. But when it came to it, the words stuck in your throat for a moment.

Feeling everyone’s eyes on you, did not help.

“I do.” You finally answered as you placed a ring on Leon's finger. You swore you could see the priest smile. With the pause you took, he probably wasn’t the only one who thought you were going to say no.

“I now pronounce you man and wife!” He said, sounding more excited than he had throughout the whole ceremony. “You may now kiss the bride.”

You could feel the expectation of every guest, their eyes glued to the two of you. Waiting. Impatience was almost palpable in the air. You realised that up until this point you hadn’t really thought about this part of the ceremony, or… other duties you would have after this wedding.

Leon’s eyes were as full of uncertainty as yours – probably not how either of you had imagined your first kiss to happen. But slowly, giving you the opportunity to pull away, he leaned in. Though brief, the softness of his lips was reassuring in a room that was bursting with excitement. You couldn’t blame them, royal weddings were rare enough – one between two countries even more so.

As you pulled away, Leon held your hand tight and led you down the aisle you had previously walked to him, sealing your fate once and for all. As you walked, people threw the most unusual things at you, to ensure a happy marriage – from rice to flags.

Leon helped you into the carriage, following soon behind you. It was not until the doors closed that the excitement of the guests subsided. Even after the carriage started moving, you still held hands, a faint smiles on your lips.

“Thank you” you said, breaking the silence. “For what you said. I also do not wish for you to be trapped by our parents’ schemes. And… I do hope we can…” you lacked the right words, as ‘love each other’ seemed too heavy for the moment. “…come to understand one another.”

“You need not thank me, dearest” he replied quietly, a smile on his face. “And I meant what I said. I wish for you to feel safe and respected around me.”

≻──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────≺

The rest of the ride was spent mostly in silence. But for the first time since you'd found out about the marriage, it wasn't an awkward one. There would be time to get to know your now husband. Preferably after the whole celebration – for now, you were just happy to believe that Leon wasn’t a bad person.

When you arrived, he helped you out of the carriage and led you inside of the palace where the wedding reception would take place. You took in the sight of the castle, and like everything you saw today, it was gorgeous. Being in another country meant different architecture, and you couldn't help but admire the big towers and high, rounded ceilings. And for a brief moment, before the joyful cheers of guests drowned out your thoughts, you wondered how long it would take you to get used to the new scenery. 

The ballroom’s floor cleared around the two of you, and in an unnatural silence, everyone waited, their eyes glued to the newlyweds. Leon didn’t hesitate to follow tradition, as he took off his cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders, proudly showing everyone present you were now a part of his family and his to protect.

“My dear wife” Leon said, holding out his arm to you. “May I have this dance?” he asked as if it wasn’t tradition for you to have a first dance. The small gesture still warmed your heart, and something told you that he wouldn't push if you refused.

Still, you gently took his hand and let him lead you to the centre of the dance floor. Slow music played around you as Leon placed his free hand on your waist. He twirled you around the dance floor, his deep blue eyes never leaving yours. This could have been worse, you thought to yourself, offering your husband a smile. Though the future might prove you wrong, you were almost… glad, to have Leon on the other side of this arranged marriage. Many girls in your situation married brutes who only wanted them for their bodies. But Leon seemed like a good man. Respectful. You hoped he would still be during what happens after the whole wedding. You swallowed thickly, all of a sudden worried about certain duties expected of newlyweds.

Gradually, more people joined you, and you tried to silence the worrying thoughts, to push them deep into the back of your head. After all, respectful or not, it had nothing to do with it. There were traditions! Disgusting traditions where someone thought it was necessary to make sure the couple consummated their marriage.

“Are you okay?” Leon’s voice snapped you out of your unpleasant thoughts. Were you so obvious?

“Yeah, sorry, I was just… thinking. Or rather trying not to” you answered, letting out a small chuckle. You were quite spectacularly failing at that. Your husband raised his eyebrows, silently asking if you wanted to share whatever was troubling you. You sighed, losing the smile you had tried to put on earlier. “I just worry for the night we are to spend after the wedding.” You confessed. This time he was the one to chuckle.

“Darling,” he whispered, pulling you closer. Close enough for his lips to be right next to your ear. “I promised to respect your every wish, did I not? If you do not wish to spend the night with me, you will not be forced.” His voice made you shiver. Filled you with an unfamiliar warmth. Warmth that you attributed to satisfaction with the answer, mixed with relief.

The two of you swayed for another song, before slowly retreating to your table. Your chairs looked more like miniature thrones than actual chairs, only matched by the actual throne of Leon's father.

“You’d think he would give you the spotlight on your special day” you joked, making your husband chuckle.

“Careful, he might hear” he said in a rather joking manner, though you couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth to he said. You both looked over to where his father was. He looked rather… bored. Sitting on that throne on an elevated platform, it was no wonder. His wife’s seat was empty, and there was no one else seated beside the current king and queen. You frowned at the distance between the king and his people. The rest of his family even.

“He’s always like that” Leon spoke as if he had the ability to read minds. “Just let him be. I think he prefers to be left alone” he shrugged and with that, it was the end of that conversation. You turned your head away from the king and turned to face your husband. A small frown was present on his face.

“How about, when you are king, we won’t sit on a platform and like statues?” you offered, noticing the corners of his lips lifting slightly. He nodded and swiftly changed the subject.

The rest of the night went smoothly. You danced, ate and celebrated like newlyweds would. You even got to learn a little bit more about your husband. Everything was going well until your mother got up.

When it came to your parents, she was always the one doing the talking, with your father agreeing to whatever she was up to at the moment. You were pretty sure it was the same with the arranged marriage. She had him wrapped around her finger.

“Your Grace” she began. It wasn’t often that she used titles with others, even kings. That was enough of a sign to know that you wouldn't like the words that were about to leave her mouth. “There sure was a lot of talking today, the prince wrapped my daughter in a cloak, but they have yet to be husband and wife! A key needs a lock!”

The king looked at her, then at you and Leon. He sighed, but smiled nonetheless.

“Then, let us bed them!” he exclaimed, and the whole room cheered. The guests began to gather around the two of you, excited to carry you to the bedchambers and watch as the newlyweds consummated their marriage. You held Leon’s arm a little tighter as some of the men began to lift you up.

You were glad for his quick reaction. Leon did not let go of you, keeping you close to his side. Much to the confusion of the guests.

“My dear people” Leon raised his hand, stopping anyone who got too close. Your feet slowly met the ground again and you forced yourself not to sigh with relief. “While honoured traditions must be respected, trust that my duties to my wife will be fulfilled.” He moved to leave a soft kiss in your hair. “We wish to be alone.” his voice was no louder than a whisper, but with the silence that had fallen upon the crowd, you were sure it had more impact than a harsh order for them to retreat.

All eyes were on the king, awaiting his decision. You'd say he looked annoyed, but that might just be his resting face. He rather dramatically sat back down on his throne, and you swore you saw him roll his eyes.

“If it is their wish” was all he said as his answer. Though a little unhappy, the guests offered understanding smiles and congratulations, before walking away to let you go about your way.

Leon smiled at you, before sweeping you off your feet himself. The people cheered one last time, before he carried you out of the ballroom and through the palace halls. The walk was silent, and you couldn’t stop thinking about the warmth you’d felt ever since Leon kissed your hair earlier. It was a protective gesture, something you hadn’t lacked in your life with your father, brothers and all the guards they considered necessary for your safety. But this time… this time the gesture tingled in a nice way, so much so that you wished to experience it more.

You focused on Leon again as he gently placed you on the bed and went to close the door. When the old entryway clicked shut, he turned to look at you, taking a few moments to admire you. The dress pooled around you, shimmering in the dim light of the candles.

Without a word, you extended your hand in Leon’s direction, inviting him to come closer. He hesitated for a second, before walking over to you and squeezing your hand. It was warm and a little sweaty, and you wondered if he was just as nervous as you were.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with” Leon assured, crouching down in front of you. His hand clasped yours in a gesture of understanding. “We can just go to sleep and figure it out later.”

It was your turn to hesitate. Though you couldn’t be sure if it was hesitation or if you just got lost in his eyes for a moment. So close to you, his face lit only by the flickering light of the candles, you couldn't tear your gaze away.

You didn’t want to.

Without a word, you leaned closer to him, lips hovering over his as you gave him a moment to pull away. But he didn’t.

“What if we… don’t go to sleep?” as you whispered, you could feel his hand squeeze yours a little tighter. Leon didn’t answer. At least not with words. He closed the remaining distance between your lips offering you a kiss. It was soft, a little hesitant at first, as if he was afraid you would pull away and slap him.

Slowly, he became more confident and deepened the kiss. All the emotions you had before were now released as you shared this moment. His hand found it’s way to rest on the back of your head as he rose from the floor and gently positioned you to lay on the bed. Leon hovered over you, holding his weight up with one hand, the other still in your hair.

“Are you sure?” he asked, concern visible in his eyes. “If you think that you have to– “ you didn’t let him finish, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him in for another kiss.

“I want to” you assured him, almost rolling your eyes. He gave you plenty of time to protest, and still put the energy into asking whether you were certain it is what you wanted and not what you felt was your duty as a wife. “You’re too good for your own good, dear husband.” You giggled, your hand resting on his cheek. Though the constant reassurances slowed the whole process, it made you want him even more. So caring for his new wife.

Leon sighed and nuzzled his cheek into your palm, planting a soft kiss on it. His fingers ghosted over your body, still hesitant to touch you. A touch you longed for, needed more with every stroke of his fingers that actually touched you. But just as soon as they touched you, he pulled away even faster, as if your skin burned him.

“Sweet husband” you said, taking his hands in yours, stopping his pointless wandering around your body. You brought them both to your mouth and kissed each of them. "You have asked me a thousand times if I am ready," you whispered, moving your gaze from his hands to his eyes. "So let me ask you now. Do you want to be intimate with me, dearest?”

Leon looked shocked by your words, but as soon as the shock wore off, he nodded quickly, desperate to assure you of his own willingness.

“Yes! I- I do! It’s just…” Leon bit his lip “I do not wish to hurt you”

You wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t, of course, being so sweet and cautious, how could he? But you had the impression that words would not work in this situation. So instead you moved his hands, placing one of them on your breast and the other on your hip. Leon froze, before finally squeezing the flesh under his palms. He was cautious at first, but warmed up to the feel of your body under his. Suddenly it was as if a switch had been flipped in his head and he was all over you, trying to cover every visible bit of your skin with his mouth. You could feel his hands growing bolder, clutching at the dress when it started to get in the way. He quickly grew annoyed with the material and turned you onto your stomach, his hands working to undo the corset. Or rather trying to, because Leon cursed under his breath and started fighting with the garment.

“You have to be slow” you giggled when he yanked on the corset particularly hard.

“Beloved, I will not hesitate to take you in that dress if it’s not off your body soon” he groaned, stopping the war with your dress for a second. You didn’t doubt his words and fortunately he didn't have time to prove his honesty. The dress tore in the back, leaving you both stunned. To be honest, you hadn't expected him to use so much force - you hadn't thought it would be so easy to tear such good quality fabric! When the maids fastened the corset, you thought they  were using immense force to squeeze your poor insides, and they weren’t even close to damaging anything. Just how strong was he?

“Sorry” he murmured. Apparently his regret wasn’t strong enough to stop him from pulling the gown from your body. A shiver ran down your spine when it was gone. You felt… vulnerable. Excited.

“Don’t worry, I ‘m nit planning on getting married again any time soon” you chuckled, turning back on the bed. Facing him felt even worse somehow. Now you could see the way he looked at you, the hunger in his eyes.

“Good” his gaze flickered from your body to your lips. “Because I want you only for myself, my beautiful queen” with that, Leon closed the remaining distance between you and took your lips in a tender kiss. The world fell away as you sank deeper into the kiss. Once you parted for air, you gazed upon him, now completely bare in front of you.

He chuckled when you tried to look away, a little embarrassed.

“No need to be shy, dearest” his hand was on your cheek, slowly turning your head back to him. Leon smiled at you and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

At first he began to move slowly, his fingers trailing up your thigh, stopping when he reached your clit. You let out a nervous sigh as he massaged you gently. For someone so seasoned in combat his fingers were surprisingly soft and gentle when they caressed your body.

“Relax for me, darling” he whispered, feeling your body tense up. Closing your eyes, you tried to take a deep breath.

He was everything. Slow and caring. Yet, the unknown still frightened you, even if Leon was your husband, one couldn’t just forget years of pestering about the importance of staying innocent.

Leon kissed your temple, whispering sweet nothings and promises against your skin. It worked like magic, calming down your mind enough to allow you to relax the tense muscles. His lips then trailed lower to taste the sweetness between your thighs, coaxing sweet gasps and sighs from your lips until you bucked desperately against him.

“H-husband, wait–!” you tried to plead through moans as the unknown warmth began to spread through your body. But your words only seemed to spur him on. Soon you were writhing underneath him, moaning his name out with a hand tangling into his hair as you came. Leon didn’t stop for a while, easing you through the overwhelming feeling.

When you stopped trembling, Leon was back up next to you. You didn’t see the way he wiped his lips before he leaned down to kiss all over your face. A soft giggle escaped your lips at the ticklish sensation.

“May I?” your husband asked, between the kisses. His hand was already back on your thigh, slowly pushing them apart.

You placed one hand on his chest and the other around his neck and, without breaking eye contact, moved your legs to wrap loosely around his waist The silent approval didn't go unnoticed by him, making a smirk appear on his lips.

“Stop me at any time, dearest wife” in this compromising position, his promise to respect your possible change of consent warmed your heart, successfully ridding you of any remaining hesitation. With your nod, he positioned himself at your entrance and paused, once again searching your eyes for permission, before sliding inside with a groan. He was slow, ignoring his own need for pleasure as soon as he heard a gasp leave your lips.

The stretch burned unpleasantly, causing you to wince in pain. Still, you didn’t try to stop him. You didn’t have to, he noticed your pained expression and came to a halt.

“You’re doing amazing” he whispered, kissing your wet, tear-filled eyes. The kisses spread around your face as he continued to whisper sweet encouragements until you relaxed once again.

With another nod he moved again, sliding in until he was all the way home. A sigh of pleasure escaped his lips once your hips met. He took a moment to take in the situation, calm himself down as he admired your beautiful form beneath him.

In his eyes, you were a goddess, beautiful and radiant. If the evening you spent together was any indication, you were everything he could ever want and more. He could already see how your future might unfold. As he stared at you he prayed to the gods above for you to stay by his side – a rather silly request, given that the two of you had just got married. Yet he wished it was what you wanted of your own free will.

“Dearest?” you snapped him out of his daydream, no sign of displeasure remaining on your divine features. You looked rather hot and bothered by Leon’s pause.

He chuckled, whispering an apology and placing a soft kiss on your lips. His kisses trailed down your neck as he moved his hips backwards. A motion he stopped when only the head of his cock remained inside of you, teasing you, before moving back in again. Leon set the most unhurried pace, simply extending the pleasure you experience.

Soon the room was filled with the sound of your joined whimpers and the slapping of skin against skin. The warmth began to grow faster  the quicker Leon moved.

“I don’t need the universe when you’re in my arms, beloved” he breathed out, your gasps and cries thrilling him beyond measure. "My glorious queen…" Leon gasped against your lips, capturing them once more as passion overtook you. Your legs tightened around his waist as if seeking to meld into one, and Leon let go of any remaining restraint with a groan. His motions grew deeper, quicker, more eager.

You cried out in unison as you came together, holding each other tightly. Spent and sated, Leon kissed your flushed cheeks, caressing your body with gentle touches.

You didn’t move, letting Leon worship your body with kisses. They were just what you needed. Almost unconsciously, your hand found it's way into Leon's hair, slowly stroking it. It felt heavier than usual.

“Beloved husband” you murmured as your eyelids fell. You couldn’t fight the sudden wave of tiredness that washed over you. He stopped showering your body with kisses, instead he settled down next to you in the bed. His hand wrapped around your waist as he covered you with a blanked.

“Rest, dearest” he whispered. Your unspoken need for closeness was satisfied by a gentle tug that pulled you flush against his body. Amidst the warmth of the blankets and Leon’s body the consciousness slowly began to slip from your body, lulling you to sleep.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil leon #resident evil #arranged marriage #royalty au #smut #resident evil smut #re leon #leon kennedy x y/n #leon x you #leon smut #leon kennedy fanfic

[leighsartworks216]

To Be Warm And Comfy

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I was only going to write down this little idea before I took a nap... And then I ended up writing the whole thing

The crochet theme actually came out of nowhere for me. I cannot crochet anything more than a chain to save my life, but I do loom knit from time to time

Warnings: self-deprecation, low self worth

Word Count: 776

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Slotted between his legs, you rested your back against Astarion's chest. His arms coiled around your waist and held you close, while he pressed his nose into your neck and peered over your shoulder. With practiced hands, the yarn slid through your fingers at the perfect tension, hooked and worked together into rows of perfect stitches.

He'd never seen anything quite like it. During his living years, he focused on intellectualism and law, not crafts. And during his servitude, sewing and embroidering came about from necessity, though he did still enjoy them. This was incredible. He couldn't stop watching as you worked in smooth movements to crochet your little project. You wouldn't tell him what it was, but he was content simply to watch.

For several weeks, this became the nightly pattern. You'd lay back in his arms while he held you, watching you work away in silence or with idle chatter. When you finished for the night, you'd set your project aside where it wouldn't get damaged, he'd gingerly bite into your neck and take his share, and he'd lay down with you as you drifted off to sleep. Usually he stayed, if he'd had enough to eat during the day and didn't need to sip on some boar or squirrels. Sometimes he would read while you crocheted, sharing his favorite bits with you. It was nice. Peaceful.

You told him, one night, that you were almost finished. He'd watched with rapt attention then, studying the way you fastened off and weaved the excess yarn back through the stitches. He'd realized almost a week ago that it was a sweater, but it was almost a marvel when you held it up by the shoulders in front of you both to show it off.

He kissed your jaw with a gentle squeeze around your midsection. "It looks wonderful, darling."

You hummed, smiling brightly. "I'm really glad you think so." You sat up and turned in his arms. He didn't fight to keep you where you were, though he certainly missed the solidness and warmth you provided. You held it out to him. "Put it on."

He frowned, confused. "Don't tell me you spent weeks making that just to give it away?"

"Of course I did, now put it on."

"I'm hardly worth the effort," he scoffed. He did not accept the gift. His expressions mixed oddly - light-hearted joy, befuddlement, self-deprecation - all flooding his system and overwhelming him. He simply could not grasp the fact you'd go through all the effort for him. "Surely it would look much nicer on you!"

You sighed, understanding and long-suffering. "Tell you what, if it doesn't fit or you don't like it, I'll keep it. Deal?"

He sighed, too. He'd hardly be able to refuse it once he put it on. But you nudged the sweater in his direction again, and how could he say no?

You watched with a wide grin as he slipped it over his head and slid the sleeves along his arms. It was... really nice, actually. Warm and soft without feeling constricting. It fit him perfectly.

"You're always so cold," you explain, wrapping your arms around his waist and relaxing forward until your chin was against his chest. "So I made you this. You can wear it when touch is too overwhelming, or if you feel too out of it to cuddle. I just want you to be warm and comfy."

He chuckles breathlessly, tears welling at the corners of his eyes. "I'm sure I'll be very comfy in this."

His undead heart ached. You went through so much trouble. He'd seen you struggle to find enough of the same yarn, watched you cuss and groan every time a stitch fell or when you had to undo a section because you miscounted. He'd held and massaged your hands when crocheting began to wear them out. 

And still you persevered. For him. You even ensured it would fit a little loose, so he wouldn't be claustrophobic. It was... a lot. To have someone go through all this trouble.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up until he could give you a proper hug. He nuzzled his cold nose into your neck, and he sighed. Softly, sweetly - completely relaxed.

"Thank you." He bit his tongue before he could ask if you were sure, if he really was worth the effort. Surely, by making the sweater, you'd proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was. "I shall cherish it always."

"I love you," you coo sweetly by his ear.

He must look like a fool with how wide he's smiling. "I love you, too, dear."

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

[dudeitiskarev]

Almost Lover | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x ghost!female reader

Summary: You died right in front of him, yet you're still around.

Tags/warnings: death; grief; angst with a bit of humor.

Word count: 4.5k

Author's note: this is a repost from my AO3. Since I deactivated a while ago, I've been slowly, very slowly. reposting my fics on here 🥰 this piece is one of my favorites I've written so for those who haven't read it, I hope you like it! Flashbacks are in italics.

MASTERLIST

The night froze for a moment. 

       Like never before, you weren’t able to talk down the unsub, and your confident “we can talk about this” as you lowered your gun, became your last words – your last breath. They pulled the trigger — literally — and from that moment, everything happened in slow motion. 

       Yet the single gunshot that blared around was so damn fast. It broke the air on its way to you and went straight through your skull, killing you within half a second. 

       Nice and quick, you would’ve said.

       “No.” Aaron’s ears started ringing; his eyes widened in disbelief and his gun slipped off his hand like sand at the same time your body dropped dead to the ground. 

       “Shots fired! Agent down!” JJ’s voice turned into a desperate scream. 

       No. 

       This must be one of Aaron’s nightmares; the ones that felt too real and woke him up covered in sweat; the ones that always made him call you in the middle of the night just to hear your voice and make sure you were alright, and the ones that sometimes ended up with you laying next to him because you wanted to be there when he fell asleep again.

       The digital clock on his nightstand marked 4:47 AM. He’d been dozing on and off for the past hour since the nightmare but a gentle knock on his door awakened all of his senses. 

       “Aaron, it’s me.” Your voice came soft but loud enough from behind the door.

       An instant sigh of relief dragged him out of bed to the front door. It wasn’t the first time you’d  shown up unannounced at his place, but he still wondered, what the hell were you doing here at this time of the night? You hated driving at night. 

       He unlocked every lock and opened up for you. “Wha–?”

       “You had a nightmare–” You interrupted him, walking in as if it was your own place “–Where I died so I came here to show you I’m very much alive.”

       You toed off your shoes while tossing your coat on his couch right next to his. 

       “What?” You frowned, but he didn’t say a thing. He just stood there, staring at your very-much-alive self. You walked up to him and brushed the front pieces of his fluffy hair back. “Would a hug make you feel better?” 

       Everything you did and said was like a morning sunbeam sneaking through the blinds, bathing him with warmth. He smiled with his eyes and leaned down to you with lazy open arms, going for a tight hug where every piece of you locked and clicked together. 

        No.

       Each step closer to you weakened, and the moment he reached your side, his knees gave up. His entire world froze right then, too. The pool of blood spreading around you was very much real, but that didn’t stop him from lifting half of your body off the floor to hold you in his arms. 

       There was no click. 

       This wasn’t happening. Not again. 

       “Somebody!” His heart-shattering voice echoed around, “Wake up, please.” He lightly tapped your still warm cheek as if you’d simply fainted; as if there wasn’t peace, crimson, and his own tears staining your face. “Oh, honey, no. Don’t do this to me, please.”

       There were no signs of you. You were just a body, and the only thing your team could do was end with the monster who had broken everyone’s heart. 

       No one – not even Reid – thought twice before shooting fire at the unsub, all at the same time. There was rage in every single bullet, and though it was morally wrong, in their eyes, making sure the guy was dead was the only right thing to do. 

       Derek’s gun was the first to run out of ammo and his muffled crying was the first one of all, too. “That son of a bitch!” His voice cracked between a sob, throwing his arms over his head in defeat. He was your running buddy, your go-to random hug, and personal hype man. The first one to notice when you got a haircut and the only one you’d had the chance to tell about your feelings for your Unit Chief. 

       Reid suspected those feelings, but he was waiting for an appropriate moment to ask you. 

       “I think I’m gonna throw up.” Spencer rushed to the closest bush, spraying his dinner out of his mouth. Witnessing your life being taken away seemed to be the start of yet another rough patch that was gonna be hard to get out of. The connection you two had was cosmic – like no other; you were the sibling he didn’t know he needed beside him. 

       Too bad you walked into his life too late and only got to be his sister for three short years. 

       “Oh, god!” JJ’s voice had never sounded so terrified.“Oh my god!” She brought her shaky hands up to her mouth with wide eyes and just stood there, staring at the hole in your forehead. She was trying not to panic, but she’d started to hyperventilate already. 

       The air struggled to find its way to her lungs, and if it weren’t for Rossi’s ability to calm her down and Garcia’s loud voice through her earbud, she would’ve passed out right there next to you. 

       “JJ?!” Garcia yelled. Poor thing, she had no idea. “Oh god! Did wha-what happened? Hello?! Someone please talk to me!” 

       All she heard was the first gunshot that triggered the shootout. Now everyone’s crying had her at the edge of her seat. 

       Everyone’s but yours. 

       “Oh, no,” she mumbled to herself at the realization. “My girl. Is she gone? Is she…”

       “Garcia, baby, I’m so sorry,” Derek tried to stop the tremble in his voice. “I’m so sorry. She’s–”

       Penelope threw her headphones away before Morgan could finish his sentence and took off her glasses, covering her face with both hands as the tears streamed down her cheeks. You weren’t supposed to leave her. Ever. You’d planned your vacation already to London to visit Emily in just a few weeks. 

       God, Emily. How was Garcia supposed to tell her? 

       Your sudden death was evidence of god’s sick sense of humor. Putting Aaron in the exact same position again — holding the corpse of the love of his life as the vision of a less lonely future blended with gunpowder in the air – was the most fucked up joke. 

       You’d turned into a memory at the snap of a finger and from right then, everything was all a blur. 

       They ripped you off Aaron’s arms and put you inside a black bag to carry you to an ambulance – as if there was any point in doing so. He somehow made it to his apartment, got a glimpse of his clothes stained with blood – your blood – then found himself sitting on his couch as two familiar tiny hands shook him by the shoulders. 

       “Dad! are you okay?” Jack asked with worried, wide eyes. He was too mature for a ten-year-old and it was too soon for him to see his father broken again. 

       “I’m okay.” Aaron stood up, quickly drying his tears with the heel of his hand. 

       “Are you hungry? Aunt Jessica made us some food. I can put some in the microwave.”

       “I’m okay, Buddy. It’s time for bed.” 

       Next thing he knew he was in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing he could press the rewind button and time travel to any moment when he was around you. 

       “Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice got his attention. You were standing at his office door with two matching kitten mugs full of steaming coffee. “Do you have time to share some caffeine with me?”

       He gave you a warm smile and put the papers aside. “Always.”

       You’d made it a habit to bring him coffee in the middle of the day to remind him he needed to take a break. And since it became a regular thing, you had to give him a mug just because. He looked forward to your date-like breaks, and it boosted him with energy to finish everything on time, even when sometimes you two spent hours just talking. 

       You preferred to actually take him out of his office and go to the coffee shop two blocks away, but the one time you did it, he didn’t feel like going back to lock himself at the BAU, so the couch in his office had to do it. 

       You sat on it and tapped next to you, gesturing for him to join you. 

       “No cookies?” He asked with a smile as he plopped next to you. 

       “I thought I had some left.” You swung your legs over his thighs. “I’m pretty sure Reid stole the last package I had in my drawer.”

       “Girl Scout cookies?”

       “Caramel deLites.” You nodded. 

       “He just can’t resist them.” Hotch sipped on his coffee before getting up and reaching inside his drawer. 

       “You keep cookies too?” You laughed when he pulled out a pack.

       “They’re not caramel deLites–” He sat next to you again and brought your legs back where they were over his “–But…”

       “Thin Oreos are perfect.”

       There was some sort of interrogation from Strauss at the BAU the next morning. She needed to know exactly what happened while the memories were still fresh. 

       Aaron was last, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation; him relating the story of how his loved one ended up murdered yet again. 

       “I don’t see how any of this is funny, Aaron.” Erin slid down her glasses to the tip of her nose.

       “Oh, I don’t think it’s funny either,” he said, and tried his best to suppress his laughter by hiding his mouth behind his hand, but his shoulder still shook. 

       Strauss paused the recorder and dismissed everyone that was there with a simple glance as she spoke to Hotch, “We’re gonna take a break.” 

       His laugh didn’t fade until he was all alone in the room and sooner than later it turned into silent angry tears. Grieving Aaron Hotchner was a whole different person. A version of himself he hoped he’d never have to be again but there he was, being suffocated by rage and guilt, even when he knew there was nothing he could’ve done to avoid what’d happened. He just wished there was a way to turn back time and trade places. 

       Everyone had a week off to mourn your loss after the interrogation. Not enough – no time would ever be enough – but work was work. Monsters were still killing people and the Bureau had already hung a picture of you on the wall of honor.

       “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Penelope was the first one to say something.  

       The team was gathered in front of your image; your smile was contagious even through a photo. 

       “I know.” Morgan touched her shoulder with his and kissed her temple. “It’s gonna be hard living in a world without her.” 

       “I’m not ready.” Garcia wiped her tears and turned to face everyone. “I’m not ready to take down monsters without her.” 

         JJ smiled in an attempt to say something, but her voice wouldn’t come out. It could’ve been her picture on that wall, but you’d offered to talk to the unsub that night as if it was the most mundane thing. She wouldn’t even dare to look at Aaron afraid she’d crumble and say I’m sorry a thousand times. 

       Hotch blinked away his tears and clenched his jaw, staring at your picture. He wasn’t ready to keep living without you, yet he said, “We have to. She would want us to,” trying to convince himself in a way. He walked away to lock himself up in his office and stopped by your desk on his way there. 

       It was intact and your presence lingered as if you’d just gotten up to refill your mug with coffee. Your chair still had the wrinkled pillow you’d brought on your second day because you couldn’t handle sitting there with a numb butt, and the small heater you used to keep your feet warm was still plugged under the desk. 

       You always said it was important to decorate your workspace like it was a piece of your bedroom. It helped you perform better, you’d say, and had convinced everyone to follow that advice – even Hotch. 

       “Excuse me.” A janitor approached Hotch and placed an empty box on your desk. 

       “What are you doing?” Aaron used his arm as a barrier to stop the man from picking up your stuff. 

       “Clearing up this desk.” 

       “Hey!” The click-clack of Penelope’s high heels came running from behind. “Don’t touch her stuff!”

       “We need the space,” the janitor said. 

       “No, we don’t.” Hotch returned the box to him. “As far as I know we haven’t hired any new agent.” 

       “Look, I’m just doing what I was told.”

       “Leave it as it is.” Hotch glared at him. “I’m gonna talk to whoever told you we needed the space.” 

       “It must have been Strauss.” Derek’s jaw clenched. 

       “How can she be so cold,” Penelope stared at Hotch walking across to room. 

       It was known that Strauss didn’t like you, so Hotch hurried into his office to just toss his briefcase and go confront Erin, but the moment he stepped in, his body stiffened. 

       The room was cold, and the silhouette he caught from the corner of his eye, sitting on his couch, made his heart drop to his stomach. 

       “Hey, boss.”

       That was your voice, and your scent was in the air all of a sudden. 

       He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. This wasn’t happening. The lack of sleep was too much. It was definitely that. 

       But when he turned the lights on and you were still there, it didn’t seem like craziness. 

       “What? Did you see a ghost or something?”

       That was definitely you. 

       “Shut the door,” you continued, “it’s getting cold in here.”

       Still in disbelief, he obeyed but couldn’t dare to look straight at you. Your presence was strong and he was sure it was his brain playing tricks on him because it’d happened before. A long time ago when his father died. He’d see the man at school, though he was never brave enough to reach out and actually exchange words with him like you were doing right now. He wished it would’ve happened with Haley so he could have heard her voice and held her hand one last time, but she never showed up. 

       Part of him had hoped it’d happen with you too at some point. And there you were. 

       He made his way to his chair and just stood there for a second before sitting. Then he finally dared to look at you.

       God, that was actually you. 

       You were wearing the exact same clothes you had on the day you died — a purple T-shirt and the cargo pants you borrowed from Emily once but never returned — just not stained with blood and not a single wrinkle in sight. You hated ironing your clothes. 

       “Have you missed me?” You folded your arms over your chest and walked across the room, sitting on the chair in front of him. 

       “Yes.” 

       “I know, that’s why I’m here. I know you’re not ready for me to leave you.”  

       The softness of your voice reached his soul, and a knot started to appear in his throat. “I didn’t get to tell you that I loved you.” His voice shook.

       “Well, you weren’t very subtle about it.” You rose from the chair and walked to the other side of the desk, leaning on it right next to him, and reached for his hand.

         You were warm. He looked up at you and caught the comfort of your eyes. If you weren’t real, why did looking into your eyes still give him butterflies?

        “This isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, closing his eyes. “I’m going crazy.”

       “Now that would be romantic.” There was a twitch of a smile on his lips at your playful tone. You always managed to make him smile in one way or another. “Would a kiss make you feel better?” 

       He’d kissed you only once – the night before you died – so he knew how soft and sweet your lips were. He looked up at you and right when he was going to say yes, you leaned down and kissed his lips. 

       This kiss was different, though. It was painful because he was sure you were part of his imagination. He tried to put those feelings aside – take his insanity as a blessing in disguise – and lifted his hand to cup your face, but a single knock on his door seemed to scare you, and before it swung open, you vanished into thin air. 

       “Aaron.” Strauss stormed in. “Is there a reason why you’re refusing to clear her desk?”

       He rubbed his hand over his mouth and tried to compose himself. “I need to talk to her family first. See who will take care of her things. Out of respect.” He stressed the last word to show how out of line her behaviour was. 

       Erin widened her eye, as a threat, almost. “You have one day.” Erin glared at him and left the room. 

       Hotch sighed deeply.

       It was the faintest kiss, but it was you.

       Most nights at the BAU were lonely; since you were gone, that solitude pierced bones. It’d been four months already and it was still unreal to the team. 

       Especially to Spencer. 

       He used to pull all-nighters with you by his side, and while he played chess on his own, you finished the paperwork you left until the last minute. He still stayed until late these days, just not as often nor until the sun rose. 

       You missed him too, and now, all you could do was mess with him hoping he’d at least feel the ghost of you. 

       “Uh.” Spencer quickly snapped his hand off the chess board when a piece slowly moved on its own. 

       He rubbed his eyes and stared at the board again. And you moved a piece, again. 

       “What the– not again?”

       “You okay?” Hotch’s voice came loud and out of nowhere, making Spencer jump on his seat. His heart almost leaped out of his chest; he had to make sure it was still there, placing his hand over it. 

       “Did– did you see that?” Reid’s voice got a bit higher than it normally was.

       “See what?” Aaron walked up to him with a subtle smirk.  

       “Nothing.” Spencer frowned. “What are you doing here anyway? It’s almost four AM.” He glanced at his watch. 

       “I could ask you the same thing.” 

       Spencer frowned his lips. 

       “We may have a case,” Hotch continued. “So don’t leave.” 

       “Wasn’t planning to,” Spencer lowered his voice, looking around.

       Hotch gave you a quick glance ordering you to follow him on his way to his office. 

       “Haunting Reid isn’t very nice,” he told you as soon as he shut the door behind you.

       “I was bored.” You put on an innocent face and gave him a guilty smile. “Waiting for you. And he needs to stop staying here until so late, so I was doing him a favor.” You sat on his desk and swung your feet back and forth as he settled on his chair. “You’re here earlier than our usual time.”

       “We may have a case.” He looked up at you.

       “It’s Jack’s birthday next week.” You mentioned. “Are we gonna do something special for him?”

       “Jessica and I are taking him to this star wars convention.”

       “That sounds fun. Can I go?”

       You went wherever he went, even flew with him for cases, but you still asked for his permission. You were a distraction, so you tried to stay on the margins when you knew he needed all of his focus. 

       That’s why you enjoyed plane rides the most. 

       Everyone still sat on their usual seat on the jet, and your spot next to Hotch remained empty so you still sat there, quiet. 

       “You’ve been seeing her,” Rossi said as he sat on the seat across from Aaron. 

       “Sorry?” Hotch lifted his eyes from his folder.

       “It happened to me when Carolyn died. I’d see her around, even talk to her at times. I was worried it might have been an illness or something.” He waved his hand in the hair. “It wasn’t. I can give you the name of my doctor.”

       He didn’t admit it but didn’t deny it either. 

       The jet took off and Rossi didn’t mention it again until they landed. 

       “Are you thinking about going to the doctor?” You asked him when no one was around. 

       “I love having you around.” He stared into the void. ”But this isn’t normal.”

       That hurt a bit, but you still stayed by his side during the entire case and were there for his doctor’s appointment as soon as you made it back in Quantico, too. 

       “You’re grieving, agent,” the doctor started. “It is a rare way of grieving but it happens. I can medicate you to help get rid of it, but you also need to work on it.”

       Whatever that meant, Aaron wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to get rid of you, but something scared you that day and you stopped being around as often. You weren’t at the BAU and the usual time to spend some time alone with him, and you weren’t there for Jack’s birthday as you’d said you wanted to.

        Not as your usual self, anyway. 

       They’d just gotten back from the Star Wars convention and something was slightly off about his apartment. 

       “No way!” Jack screeched with excitement. There was a dog on the couch. “ You got me a puppy?!” He ran to the little dog who waved its tail with the same enthusiasm. 

       “You got him a puppy?” Jess subtly asked Hotch

       “No? Did you?” 

       Neither said a thing and stared at the wholesome sight of happy Jack. 

       Hotch wasn’t sure to what extent the “anything is possible” was possible for those who belonged to the hereafter, but something told him the puppy was your magic work. 

       “My cheeks hurt from smiling so much!” Jack laughed as the puppy licked his face. “Can I name her?”  

       How could Aaron say no to that? He didn’t want to crush his son’s dream and tell him the dog wasn’t supposed to be there, so they did a quick run to the store to buy some dog food and helped Jack build a tiny bed for her in his bedroom instead. 

       “Can she stay forever?” Jack asked. He’d already mastered the puppy-dog eyes. 

       “We’ll see.” Hotch tucked him in and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, buddy.” 

       He gave the puppy one last scratch on its chin and went to bed too, though it already seemed like it was going to be one of those nights where the sleep never came. 

       The bed sank next to him at two AM, making him lose track of how many sheep he was counting. There you were with a sad look. 

       “Where have you been?” He asked you in a murmur.

       “I don’t want you to think I’m here because there’s something wrong with you.” You whispered.

       “I don’t.” 

       “Then why did you go to the doctor?”

       “To rule it out.” He caressed your cheek.  “But you’re clearly not part of my imagination. You’re here.” 

       “Something’s holding me back.” You gulped. “I need you to help me get to the other side. I need to know you’re going to be okay without me.”

       Only then he noticed you didn’t want to be there, to begin with. 

       “I’m sorry we won’t be growing old together,” you continued. “That we won’t give Jack any siblings and Jess more nephews, but I will always be by your side, taking care of you three. Always. And I’ll be waiting for you, Aaron. You were my greatest love, even when I won’t be yours, and I’m sorry. ”

       “I’ll be okay.” He tried to swallow the lump on his throat and brought you close into a tight hug. “You go. I’m gonna be alright.” 

       “Promise me.”

       “I promise.”

       “I love you,” you sobbed into his chest.

       “God, I love you, too. I always will.” 

       It was like the old times when a nightmare woke him up, but this time he was so damn scared  to fall asleep because he knew you weren’t going to be there when he woke up. So he cherished the moment and held you until you leaped into his dreams forever. 

       You stopped showing up, but you weren’t gone. He’d get a whiff of you while he made himself some coffee, and would stop for a moment to close his eyes and take you in. He’d still feel your presence around, at the BAU, at your favorite donut shop, and in his car when a song you liked came on the radio. 

       You were everywhere. He still didn’t know how to move on, but knew he had to let it happen naturally. 

       Time went by; he started to forget the sound of your voice, the trees lost their leaves and grew new ones through the seasons. His heart healed eventually, too, and the love he once had for life sparked again. 

       “I’m not sure if we can keep here any longer,” Hotch said, staring at Chewie who had grown into her ears and started to make the apartment look small. 

       “What do you mean?” Jack asked, putting the harness on her and pulling her close to him.

       “We may need a new house.” Aaron opened the front door for them, ready to take her on a walk. “But the park will have to do it for now. Let’s go.” 

       Those walks in the park became the best part of Aaron’s day. They kept his mind busy and they might have boosted a new chapter in his life…

       “Ah! Look at them!” Haley clapped with excitement. Turns out you weren’t the only one looking after them. “Aren’t they cute.”

       You stood next to her with your arms folded over your chest and admired how Chewie played cupid by stomping on this woman’s picnic. 

       “So sorry,” Aaron approached her while Jack tried to catch the leash.  

       “You are a beautiful girl,” the woman said, letting Chewie lick her face all over.

       That was her, Aaron’s greatest love. 

       “Did you know I was gonna die?” you asked Haley. 

       “I did.” She turned to you. “But there was nothing I could’ve done. Life… it’s an odd thing. We don’t get to choose anything.” Haley stared at her husband and son again. “Everything is written already.”

       “She won’t die tragically like we did, will she?” Haley twitched her mouth. “She will?!”

       “I’m just kidding.” She dismissively waved a hand with a laugh and began to walk away. “You can stop worrying too much about him now! She’s got him!” 

       “Where are you going?!” You hurried behind her, throwing one last look over your shoulder. “Wait up!”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb

[polaroidpascal]

let me || frankie morales

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader

summary : after two weeks of frankie coming home knocking on death’s door from exhaustion, you decide to give him a break.

tags : fluff !!, no use of y/n, you taking care of frankie, very small nods to sex, undressing, showering together, cuddling, short and sweet glimpse into domestic life with frankie 🥹

WC : ~1.8k

a/n : i’ve never written pure fluff before, but the frankie brainrot has reached an all-time high and i desperately need to take care of this man. hope you like this little slice of domestic life with frankie 🫶 (not beta read or proofread much, just psa!)

You’re cozied up on your recliner reading a book in the soft light from your lamp when Frankie finally comes home from work.

He opens the door gently, tiredly. He never knows if you’re going to be asleep or not, so he errs on the side of caution just in case. Plus, he’s too exhausted to make more noise anyway.

You watch him from the corner as he sets down his keys. They clink against the ceramic dish that he made for you forever ago after you had moved in together. He sets down his backpack opting to unpack it tomorrow and hangs up his hat, running his hand and fingers through his curls with a long, tired sigh before he kicks off his boots.

He turns around to see you in your pajamas wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, book in hand, the lamp illuminating you from behind like an angel descending from heaven.

No amount of exhaustion can keep the tired smile from blooming across his face. “Hey, baby,” he says, his hand now rubbing the back of his neck to soothe the sore muscles there.

“Hi, love,” you say back sweetly. “How was work?”

He answers with another sigh and tired eyes, his smile fading just a bit remembering the absolutely packed couple of weeks he’s had. “It was alright, just tired.”

Frankie has come home beyond exhausted every day for the past two weeks. The first few nights, you were already asleep by the time he came home, unable to keep your eyes open any longer to wait for him. You had sent him a text telling him to wake you up when he got home, but of course your sweet boyfriend would never do that, not when you look so peaceful in your sleep.

One night, you happened to be awake when he came home, much to his surprise. He tried to play off how drained he was, bringing you in for a hug that swallowed you whole in his broad figure, whisking you off to your bedroom to try and ignore his exhaustion. But you could see it in his eyes from the moment he walked in that he was barely hanging on, and he definitely slept hard that night.

After that, you made sure you were up every night long enough to catch him walking through the door, picking up a new novel series to pass the time while you waited.

You rise from the recliner and shuffle over to Frankie in your fuzzy socks and his t-shirt loosely fitting your frame, the wide neckline exposing your collarbones. “You look tired, Frankie. And I’m not saying that in a mean way.”

He takes you in his arms and kisses the top of your head breathing another sigh, like he’s relearning how to breathe after being so busy all day. “I know, baby.”

You stay wrapped in each other's arms for a minute, Frankie’s head resting atop your own. His dead weight grows each second that passes and you let him stay until you can’t hold him up anymore. You rub and pat his back gently before you whisper, “Why don’t we go take a shower, hm?” looking up when he lifts his head again.

He looks back at you with his big, brown, pouty eyes and mumbles, “But you’re already in your pajamas…”

“I know,” you nod, reaching your hand up to cup his cheek and glancing across his face at his tired and beautiful features. “You’re always taking care of me. Can you let me take care of you this time?”

His eyes are still pouting and nearly half closed now as he pauses, then gently nods, letting you lead him to your bedroom.

He stands in the middle of the room reaching down to the hem of his shirt to undress but your hands stop him. He looks at you confused.

“Let me,” you say. He has no protests.

He watches you lift his shirt exposing his stomach and chest, raising his arms so you can slip it over his head. You toss it to the side while Frankie reaches down to take his socks off. Your hands move down to his belt, slipping it out of the loops of his jeans. It clinks to the floor and you unbutton his pants, slipping them down with his underwear. He watches you the whole time, stepping out when you reach the bottom before you stand up again.

When you meet his gaze, the love radiating from his eyes almost makes your heart burst from your chest. You smile gently at him, reaching up to give him a soft kiss before leading him to the shower.

You run the water warm, more on the hot side, and start to undress yourself. Frankie watches you strip, the way your shoulder blades move as you pull your shirt over your head and unhook your bra. The way your spine flexes as you reach down to pull your pants off and shimmy out of them. How angelically perfect the curves of your body look.

You turn around to look at him and see tears welling in his eyes.

Immediately, your heart drops and you rush to cup his face in your hands. “Oh, Frankie, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing, I just…” He looks your face up and down examining all the features he finds so beautiful and takes a breath. “I love you so much,” he says, the end of his sentence getting quiet, tapering off choked in emotion.

You stare at the gorgeous boy in front of you, exhausted from his hard work, so full of emotion that he’s brought to tears, and you feel your own eyes start to sting. All you can do is hug him and bury your face into his chest, his warm, soft skin pressed against you as your arms clasp around him. “I love you too, Frankie.”

You feel his breath get a little quicker as he tries to keep himself in check, the fight against his tears getting harder and harder. You pull back and wipe away a few strays that started rolling down his cheeks before pulling him into the shower.

You wash Frankie head to toe helping him clean the day off. He leans down some so you can wash his hair, making sure to give his scalp a little massage while you suds up his curls. His eyes close and he softly hums as your fingers card through each strand. He loves when you play with his hair.

You gently wash his back, watching the soap slowly roll down his body as you rub circles into his skin. The muscles look tight, flexing some just with the slow breaths he’s taking. You reach up and dig your thumbs into the visible knots you see near the base of his neck where he was rubbing before. His head drops forward a bit, a soft groan leaving his lips at the relief.

You turn him around and wash his chest, watching the soapy water cascade down his pecs and stomach.

He watches you as best he can, wanting to savor every second, and he can’t help but close his eyes at the soothing feeling of the warm water flowing across his skin… the soap erasing the dirt from the day… and most importantly of all, your feather-light, loving touch behind every movement.

You rinse his chest a little and give him a soft kiss to his sternum, handing him the sponge to wash the rest of his body while you wash your own.

He silently watches you move, feeling himself get emotional again thinking about how lucky he feels to have you. That you’d do this for him. That you care so much about him. The love in his heart threatens to burst at the seams.

When you’re both done, Frankie grabs your hips and carefully spins you around before leaning down for a kiss. A kiss that’s worth a million words all condensed into one little action. A kiss that screams I love you, endlessly and eternally.

You stay under the shower head, lips locked with the silent words of affection being exchanged. You only think to get out when you feel the water starting to run cold.

When you get out, you loosely wrap a towel around yourself before grabbing another to dry off Frankie. You rub his hair and his face, draping it around his shoulders and tip-toeing up to kiss his nose before you finish drying yourself off.

You slip back into your pajamas and Frankie puts on his sweatpants before you both climb into bed together. Frankie immediately plops down on his side of the bed, lying on his back and draping his arms over his eyes as he sighs deep, finally comfortable after the long, long day he’s had.

He feels you crawl into bed with him, your weight shifting the mattress around him as you climb on top of him, legs straddled over his sides.

He moves his arms to look up at you staring at his chest tracing circles onto his skin. His hands rest on the tops of your thighs and he rests his head back on his pillow, but you swear you can feel his entire energy shift.

“You okay?” you ask, resting your palms on his skin.

“I…” he starts, looking up at you with sad eyes. “I love you so much, you know that… I’m just… I’m really tired, baby. I don’t know if I can—“

“Frankie,” you cut him off. “I’m not in the mood either.”

He looks at you with his pouty doe eyes again. “You’re not?”

“No,” you assure him. “I just wanted to look at you. How pretty you are. How lucky I am to have you.”

Frankie’s chest gets tight, the tears stinging in his eyes again as he wonders what he could have possibly done to deserve someone like you. Who loves him unconditionally. Who takes care of him so tenderly. Who is straddled on top of him just because she wants to look at him.

Before you can catch his eyes getting redder, he pulls you down to lay by his side, cradling you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. “It’s me who’s lucky to have you, amor.”

You hum and settle into his embrace, inhaling his clean scent and relaxing against his soft skin. Just as you’re starting to drift off, you hear a faint mumble, “Thank you.”

And you don’t even need to respond. You just press your body closer somehow, planting a kiss to his chin before nuzzling into his neck.

And it’s the only answer Frankie needs.

#francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction

[the-likesofus]

never known comfort like laying next to you

9-1-1 on ABC | Buddie | 2.6k words | cuddling and snuggling, confessions, sharing a bed, soft boys being soft

A long shift ends with a quiet pizza and movie night within the walls of the Diaz house followed by a quiet confession beneath Eddie’s duvet

Read on AO3

When Buck and Eddie finally drag themselves over the threshold of Eddie's front door Buck feels the last of his strength fall to the floor along with his duffle bag and he absently follows Eddie to the couch.

"I could sleep for a month," Eddie whines as he lazes back against the cushions. 

"So could I," Buck agrees. "But we've gotta pick up Chris."

Eddie groans and Buck watches the movement out of the corner of his squinted eyes as Eddie rolls his head back and forth against the back of the couch. "Not for like an hour."

Buck hums and breathes deeply. His bones ache and his feet tingle from standing all day. None of their calls today had been out of the ordinary but they had been never-ending. They'd barely get back to the station before they'd be loading up again and if Buck has to see another exploded rice cooker ever again it'll be too soon.

"Do you want to shower first?" Buck asks.

"Yeah, thanks," Eddie says. "Just give me a minute. I can't feel my legs yet."

Buck laughs but it comes out as more of a wheeze, even his lungs are tired. He stares at the ceiling as the light fixture blurs in and out of focus. He feels the cushions shift as Eddie slumps to the side and then there’s a weight against Buck’s shoulder and a soft puff of air across his throat. 

“Eddie, we gotta stay awake.” Buck mumbles but his words slur together, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “Eds?”

He gets a half attempt at a grumble from Eddie and nothing more before Buck's eyelids fall shut under the weight of his exhaustion and the world fades away. 

He wakes sometime later to the sound of the front door closing and the clack of crutches against the floor. Oh shit, Christopher!  

Buck is about to scramble out of his seat but he’s held in place by the weight of Eddie still sound asleep against Buck’s chest and then Carla comes into view and Buck goes slack again as relief takes him over.

“What time is it?” Buck rushes to ask though it comes out slurred.

“Just after half past three.” Then she must take in the panic on Buck’s face as she smiles and comes over to rub a hand over Buck’s shoulder before she takes a seat in the armchair across from Eddie’s couch. “Oh no, were you boys so tired you forgot you already had me rostered to pick up Chris?”

Buck yawns. “Thank you, Carla. What would we do without you?”

Carla laughs and stands up again. “I’m sure you’d manage but I’m happy to help. I believe Chris has gone straight to his room. They got a new science project today and he was excited to start it as soon as he got home. I’m sure he’ll come out as say ‘hello’ soon enough.”

Buck yawns again and Carla rolls her eyes. “Get some sleep, Buck. Eddie’s got the right idea.” She nods down at where Eddie is drooling on Buck’s uniform t-shirt and Buck feels heat start to climb up his neck as he remembers that Eddie is still sprawled out against him and sound asleep. Carla waves goodbye and then she’s out the door again. 

Buck should probably wake Eddie, tell him to go have that shower, and make him go sleep in his actual bed so that he doesn’t end up with a crick in his neck but Eddie looks so peaceful and something is reassuring about the weight of him against Buck's chest and he just can’t bring himself to disturb him. 

The sound of Christopher’s crutches makes themselves known once more as he comes into the living room from the hallway. The boy pauses for a moment when he notices both Buck and his Dad on the couch. 

“Is Dad asleep?” He asks, his voice drops to a whisper and Buck smiles and beckons him over. 

“Yeah, he is.” Buck reaches up to hug Chris with his free arm as the boy teeters forward to hug Buck over Eddie’s head. “Did you have a good day at school, Buddy?” 

“Yeah! “ In his excitement, Chris forgot to whisper, and then sudden volume causes Eddie to grumble and stir, his nose scrunches up and Buck watches his eyebrows furrow as he presses his face into Buck. Buck rubs an absent hand up the back of Eddie’s head and Eddie sighs contently and settles again. When Buck looks up, Chris is watching them with an inquisitive expression on his face.

“How about pizza for dinner tonight?” Buck asks and Chris nods excitedly. “Okay, can you get my phone for me? It’s in the outside pocket of my work bag.”

Buck points to where he thinks he remembers setting his bag down and Chris makes quick work of finding his phone and bringing it back to him. “Can we get pepperoni?” 

“Of course, Bud. Hey, how about you go finish your homework while we wait for the pizza to arrive.”

“Okay. Are you going to wake up Dad?”

“When the pizza arrives,” Buck says, already navigating to the pizza website awkwardly with his phone in his left hand and placing their usual order. 

True to his word, Buck reluctantly shakes Eddie awake when his phone beeps with a text notifying him that their order is on its way. 

Eddie wakes slower than Buck did, his eyes opening and dropping closed again a few times as Buck squeezes his shoulder. 

“Hey, Eds. Sorry, man, but you gotta wake up now.”

“Wah? What time is it?” Eddie asks, his head still firmly pressed into Buck’s chest. 

“Almost dinner time, Carla brought Chris home for you.”

Eddie pauses momentarily, taking in the information before he sits up and looks around. “Oh. Oh, yeah that’s good. I forgot she was getting him today.”

He yawns rubs his hands up his face as he leans back against the couch and then freezes and drops his hands to look at Buck. Eddie’s sleep-glazed gaze flits between Buck’s face and the damp patch on Buck’s chest and he ducks his head embarrassed. “Sorry, about your shirt.”

Buck shrugs. “You’re good. I ordered pizza, it should be here in a minute. You probably have time for a quick shower if you want.”

Eddie rubs at one eye with a fist and nods, slowly getting to his feet. “Okay, thanks.”

Eddie disappears down the hallway, still yawning as Buck sits up and stretches out his numb shoulder. His side is cold where Eddie was lying just moments ago and he dings through the nearest duffle to him for a sweatshirt. As he tugs it over his head he realizes that it’s probably Eddie’s but at this point, it barely matters. Their wardrobes have merged almost indecipherably over the years. 

Buck summons Christopher to help set the table while Buck pulls two beers out of the fridge and pours a glass of juice for Chris. In the distance, he can hear the shower turn off and Eddie shuffling around his bedroom getting dressed. As Chris lays out cutlery and Buck passes him plates Chris chats excitedly about his new science project and Buck promises to help him with the actual experiment tomorrow. 

Chris is making all sorts of other plans for their Saturday, including a trip to the park, when Eddie comes back into the kitchen. His hair is still damp and hanging over his forehead in a way that forces Buck to look away and turn his attention back to looking for the bottle opener—which always seems to find its way to the very back of Eddie’s drawer—so that he can open the beers.

“Dad, can we go to the skate park tomorrow?” 

“If the weather is nice, then yeah.” Eddie shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”

“Cool! Buck is going to teach me how to do a kickflip.” Chris says brightly.

Buck laughs and holds a now-open beer out to Eddie who takes it with a quiet smile. “I said no such thing! I can’t even do a kickflip, Chris.”

“Well, maybe I’ll figure it out, and then I can teach you,” Chris says with full confidence. Secretly, Buck does know how to do a kickflip but the last time he did one he was fourteen and it ended in a trip to the emergency center with a broken nose, a piece of information he is sure Eddie will thank him for not sharing. Besides, Chris literally cannot fall off his skateboard thanks to the frame Eddie and Buck built for him, the frame that recently needed modification to accommodate Christopher’s latest growth spurt. The kid has been growing like a weed since the summer. 

The doorbell rings and Buck shuffles around Eddie, past the counter, and out to the front door to get their pizza. When he returns with the boxes in his arms Chris and Eddie and both sitting at the table waiting for him. Eddie has brought Buck’s beer out from the kitchen for him and it is waiting for him at his seat. 

Together they make room on the table for the boxes and then they dig in. They talk as they eat, Christopher with pizza sauce smeared across his cheek and a dozen questions about what makes a rice cooker explode, Buck patiently explaining the science of pressure mechanisms to him, and Eddie watching them as he contently chews on his slice of three meat barbeque pizza. 

“Can we watch a movie tonight?” Chris asks around a mouthful of pizza. Buck pulls a napkin from the pile in the middle of the table and passes it to Chris. 

“Have you done your homework?” Eddie asks.

“He was doing it while you were snoozing,” Buck says and Chris giggles, bright and gleeful. Eddie just rolls his eyes.

“It’s Friday, Dad. I have all weekend to finish it.  Jason was talking about this old movie at school today and it sounded funny.”

“What was the movie?” Eddie asks.

“Shark Story or something?”

Buck struggles not to choke on his pizza and sends a horrified look in Eddie’s direction. “Shark Tale, you mean?”

Christopher’s face lights up. “Yeah, yeah. That one.”

The movie is a hit and Christopher vows to ask Jason for more movie recommendations the following week at school, right before he falls asleep against Buck's shoulder. 

“I seem to make a pretty good pillow tonight.” He jokes and Eddie’s cheeks flush pink. 

“I did say I was sorry,” Eddie grumbles, getting up from the couch to clear away their beer bottles and the empty popcorn bowl. 

“No, no. It’s fine, Eds. I was just teasing.” Buck leans back against the couch and watches Eddie walk into the kitchen and back again. “You want me to carry him?”

Eddie glances down at Christopher who is slowly sinking lower and lower down Buck's side and filling out the space Eddie left when he stood up. He shakes his head. “No, don't worry about it. I don't want to wake him, he can sleep on the couch tonight. It's not like he has school tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” Buck says. He slowly eases himself up off the couch, lowering Christopher’s head down to meet the pillow Eddie pulls from the cupboard and passes to Buck. The pillow that is usually Buck’s when he stays over. The pillow he thought he would be using tonight. “I'll get out of your hair then.”

“What?” Eddie looks up at him, startled.

Buck waves to Christopher now snoring lightly on the couch in front of them, Buck's usual duvet tucked up around his chin. “Well, we're not both gonna fit on there.” He jokes. 

“Oh, right.” Eddie chews on the end of his thumb. “Still, you don't have to go home. I was hoping for pancakes in the morning.”

“Oh, were you now?” Buck raises an eyebrow and gives Eddie a playful shove. “I'll take Chris’ bed then, I guess.”

“You're too long for Chris’ bed.”

“I'm too long for that couch too but that hasn't seemed to matter for the last however many years I've been sleeping on it.”

Eddie stares past him for a moment as if he's lost in thought. 

“It's okay, I'll go home and I'll come back first thing in the morning to make your panca—.”

“Stay with me.”

“Huh?” Eloquent.

“With me,” Eddie repeats as if that will make it make sense. “In my bed. It's not like we haven't shared before. Besides, I hear you make a good pillow.”

Buck feels heat start to rise in his cheeks and he ducks his head, stalking down the hall. “Well, come on then. It's getting late.”

They get ready for bed in relative silence. Buck finds his spare toothbrush in the bathroom and Eddie passes him a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt. Buck is pretty sure the pants are some of his own that he'd left here at some point. The T-shirt is definitely Eddie's. It's pale grey and worn thin with a small hole at the hem but it hangs softly over Buck’s shoulders. 

Eddie knocks before coming into the bathroom to brush his teeth next to Buck in the mirror. There's something so normal about it that even though they have done this dozens of times before it still blows Buck away at the comfort such a simple process when done together can bring him. 

They climb into opposite sides of the bed—Eddie by the door and Buck by the window—they don't even have to talk about it.

Buck expects it to be awkward. The first night they had shared a bed during quarantine they had both lain stiff as boards for hours before eventually Eddie had kicked him in the shin and they'd gone to sleep. It got easier each night after that.

Now, they lay loose-limbed next to each other with barely a foot of space between them. If Buck stretched out his fingers he could probably find Eddie's hand right by his. So he does—in a moment of stupid bravery—and Eddie grips his fingers back, threading his between Buck's, locking them together. 

“Thank you for staying,” Eddie whispers.

“Thank you for not letting me leave,” Buck replies. 

“I never like it when you do,” Eddie says and it feels like a confession. 

Buck rolls onto his side, facing Eddie and pulling their intertwined hands up to rest on the mattress between their heads. Eddie turns his head to him. “I'd stay forever if you'd have me.”

Eddie rolls over and places his other hand over their joint fists. “You already have me .”

Something hot and radiant boils up in Buck's chest. He reaches up and hesitates a moment with his hand hovering over Eddie's cheek, but then Eddie turns his face up into it and noses along the edge of Buck's thumb. 

“Roll over.” Eddie pushes at Buck's shoulder till he's flat on his back. “I want my pillow back.” 

Buck can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him as Eddie shuffles closer and practically drapes himself over Buck, resting his head in the juncture between his shoulder and his neck. He sinks into the mattress beneath him, letting the weight of Eddie settle over him like a blanket.

“You do make a good pillow.” 

“Stay.” Buck whispers against Eddie's forehead.

“Forever, if you'll have me,” Eddie replies, laying his hand palm down on Buck's chest, right over his steadily beating heart. 

Buck lays his hand over Eddie's. “You already have me .”

#buddie #buddie fic #911 #911 abc #meegs writes stuff #evan 'buck' buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #911fic #911 fic

[archivomeow]

scars of the past.

worldwide issues || read on ao3 || writing masterlist

a/n: please read the warnings on this one! also i’m thinking about making this couple parts, so we’ll see.

description; you’re the new addition to the BAU team, after Derek Morgan left, Reid and Penelope hate your guts, but when you and Reid get paired up to visit the coroner’s office together he learns something about you, something you wanted to keep a secret and it changes the dynamic between the two od you.

warnings; mention of scars, sh, razor blades, swearing.

— THIS WORK IS NOT PROOFREAD!!

You were new to the team, when Agent Morgan left a spot opened and you got it, the excitement you felt was indescribable, you wanted this job forever and now it was your chance to become a profiler, to help the FBI, to meet other profilers. Your first day was rough, you were late and no one really talked with you except Emily, but you just shook it off as them being focused on the case, later on Jennifer also started to talk with you, you felt more comfortable knowing the two a little bit made you feel less alone and alienated.

The days passed fast and you had to admit the job wasn’t turning out how you imagined. You obviously were profiling, that part lived up to your, for a lack of better word, expectations. However the team wasn’t. You made two connections, you couldn’t even call that friendship. Jennifer and Emily tolerated you, they respected you and treated you with kindness, but the rest of the team was not a fan of you. Spencer always had an attitude when it came to you, as far as you noticed he gave it to no one else and no one defended you, except that one time where Emily had to stop him, because he was going too far.

Penelope treated you like air, like you didn’t exist and if she had to acknowledge your existence she did it as fast as she could, just so she can go back to pretending you don’t exist. It was crushing you. Every time you had to talk with Garcia or Reid the knot in your stomach tightened, it was there present all day long at work, but it was the worse when it came to those two. You knew there was another open spot for the BAU, that still remained empty and you wondered if another person would have to deal with this shit to and your heart just broke for them.

Since you joined the team you have solved one case so far, the way back on the jet was peaceful, everyone was exhausted and you just couldn’t wait to go home. Going home was your favourite time, drinking a glass of wine, catching up with your pet, watching TV, quite literally anything that would shift your focus from the terrible anxiety you were feeling, every fucking day at work.

Next day at work it shocked you to see more people around the table, you weren’t that surprised to see David Rossi, he took a time off because he got hurt during a mission, before you joined the BAU and you haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet, but the other woman you didn’t recognise.

“Okay, so everyone is here. This Doctor Tara Lewis, she will be joining us on this case, alongside Rossi.” As Emily spoke, you glanced at Tara and smiled lightly as she looked at you, you felt at ease when she returned the smile.

On the other hand you ignored Reid, you could feel his eyes on you again, drilling a hole in your head.

You fucking hated this job.

The jet ride is always calm, not this time. David called shots this time and unknowingly of the situation put you with Reid, he wanted to protest, but David shut it down so he just glanced annoyed at you.

“What’s up with that?” Tara whispered to you, the two of you talked more, she noticed how disconnected you were from the team and when Emily mentioned you joined recently she felt at ease, knowing she wasn’t the only “outcast”.

“Great question, wish I knew…” You shrugged, you really didn’t know why Reid disliked you, but the problem was not on your end.

You and Reid were headed to the coroner’s office, to examine the victims bodies. The ride there was quiet, you didn’t know what to say and he said nothing.

You listened to his observations about the wounds, the two of you examined the body. What stood out to you were the scars on the women’s arms, you knew those very very well, you had the same ones on your shoulder. It was warm, but as long as you could you wore long sleeves, so only you knew for now.

“Hm.. Those scars, are they fresh? Was it a knife or another weapon?” Reid looked up at the coroner, but before he could speak you answered his question.

“Razor blade.” You just stated, but the silence made you glance both at Reid and at the coroner. “Um… Those are razor blade scars… They’re deep, but still narrow, a knife could do it, but probably not with this much precision.”

Reid looked back at the coroner and the man just nodded.

“Yeah, your partner here is right. These are most likely from razor blades, those scars are about a month old, most likely not connected to the UnSub, but both women had similar scars in different stages of healing.”

You two left in silence, but the ride back was not silent. You jumped up when he spoke at first, no radio and a quiet street combined with his speaking out of nowhere scared you.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You cleared your throat, he was focused on the road, very focused, his eyebrows were frowned and his brown eyes looking ahead as he repeated what he said before.

“I asked about what you said at the coroner’s office. The razor blades.”

You frowned, that was not the hole you wanted to dig under yourself. “What about them?”

“How did you know so fast?”

He knew? Did he? He was a genius, but you weren’t sure, that didn’t stop your mind from racing with no proof. Can you lie to a profiler?

Your chest started to feel heavy, an imaginary pressure was applied to it, your lungs were heavy as if filled with sand, you could feel how your heart sped up and how the temperature of your body rose up.

“I- um… I just did…” You managed to mumble out, fucking anxiety, you were a terrible liar, even worse under pressure.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you prayed he let the topic go.

“You clean now?” He glanced at you and back at the road.

That question made you want to jump out of the moving car, that was in fact not his business and you truly didn’t want the team to know, what’s in the past is meant to stay there. You didn’t know what to say to that, you opted on being a bitch untill he drops the topic.

“That is so not your fucking business… And who even said I- I did that.” You scoffed looking out the window.

You’re okay… You’re okay…

You kept repeating in your head that fucking phrase, but you were in fact not okay.

“Well, you do wear long sleeves always and in this weather you must be hot… Your eyes immediately focused on the scars at the coroner’s office… You knew the blade, you can know everything in theory, but you were sure of it… You pretty much told on yourself….But if it’s not you, then it’s someone close to you.”

Fucking profilers.

“Just focus on the road.” You said firmly, you did tell on yourself, especially when you claimed it was “none of his business”. That didn’t matter now, you couldn’t say anything to go back. He was right, but you didn’t want him to know, not him, not anyone. It was definitely too late now.

#criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #angst #hurt no comfort #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #tw sh related #tw sh implied #tw sh mention #self h@rm

[stardust-kenobi]

Nerves

Crosshair x F!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, soft and slightly ooc Crosshair (not much though, I think he really is a softy)

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: You'd been helping Crosshair work on his aim after his traumatic experience being held captive by the Empire. After not much progress, you get into a heated discussion when he tries to give up, which turns even more heated after he admits his feelings for you.

Read on AO3

“Try it again” You paced behind his stoic stance, doing your best to encourage him without showing any sign of your very present empathy. The slow-setting Pabu sun would still provide you both with another hour of visibility. The amber glow warmed your skin, which was a welcomed change of environment from being cramped on the ship for days on end. 

“Why?” Crosshair growled, fueled by the burning rage built up by his defeat. The tremble in his fingertips broke your heart, but you could see that he’d made progress from the exercises. It was slow, sure, but there were definitely improvements. T

“Because I said so. You won’t make any progress if you don’t keep trying” You emphasized, doing your best not to express your impatience with his pessimism. 

“It’s useless, Y/N” He lowered his blaster from his shaking hand and let it fall from his grasp before lowering himself to sit on the rock beneath him. You sighed, but this time your breath didn’t hold any frustration, only disappointment in his self-defeat. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d been through, and you still didn’t know the extent of the torture he’d endured. Months had passed since he and Omega escaped. Omega had worked with him a few times, mostly with meditation, but you were better skilled with blasters and aim. 

Crosshair held his head low, focusing his vision on the sand beneath his sore feet. You joined him without another word, sitting next to him on the rocks that scattered the shore. There were no words to comfort him in this moment, so you opted out of a conversation this time. The breeze from the ocean enveloped your frame, almost as if pushing you closer to Crosshair. 

The seconds passed. Then minutes. All the while you soaked in each other’s company, for good or for bad. He was growing annoyed with you lately, despite being one of his closest friends, all because you were insistent upon helping to heal his trauma from his captivity with the Empire. 

As the moments passed, Crosshair never tried to leave his spot next to you. He didn’t push you away this time. This, you decided, was an achievement. 

The half-hidden sun drifted slowly below the horizon, replaced then by a casting a blue-toned light from the rising moon. It was peaceful, sitting together, communicating without saying a word. 

“I’ll probably head back soon. We’ll try again tomorrow” You spoke gently when breaking the silence.

“I’m done” Crosshair spoke softly, his tone was firm and assured. 

“Cross-” You sighed.

“I said I’m done” He reiterated, interrupting your plea. 

“You’re just going to give up?” You scoffed. 

“Seems so” He shrugged. 

You crossed your arms to your chest and stood in front of him now, staring at him in disappointment.

“You can stand there all night if you’d like. I’m not changing my mind” He muttered, finally looking up to meet your gaze. 

You pondered your next breath, but ultimately fell short on your words. With a subtle nod in his direction, you began walking away from your peaceful corner on the beach. 

“I’m sorry for what they did to you, Crosshair. But you can’t punish yourself forever” You spoke calmly as the distance between you grew. 

“What did you say?” He sneered, turning his body toward you, still sitting on the rock. 

You froze in your tracks. You’d struck a nerve. Good. 

“You heard me”

He slowly stood up and turned to you, “You think it’s my fault that I’m not improving?”

“You are improving, Crosshair. But, you’re giving up too easily”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”

“I care about you, Crosshair. Believe it or not, I do. I know you’re not used to that but…you’re going to have to get used to it because I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not giving up on you”

His eyes grew subtly sorrowful as he stared into you, absorbing your words slowly. His head drifted from your gaze over to the open water that was now glistening in the moonlight.

“It's..my nerves” He said shamefully.

���Okay…” You tried to understand what he meant. Maybe you’d been pushing him too hard “Would it help if we took a break for a few d-”

“You. You make me…nervous” He admitted with a loud sigh trailing the end of his words like he had to force himself to say it. 

As you pondered what he’d just said, your heart fluttered with unexpected excitement. 

“What? How do I make you nervous?” You breathed out with what was almost a chuckle. 

“Forget it” he scoffed, picking up his blaster and turning back toward the island, passing you in the process. You grab his arm to stop him. He doesn’t resist even though your gentle touch should not have stopped him in his tracks, but it did tonight. 

“No. Tell me what you mean.” You demanded. 

Crosshair contemplated it for a second before yanking his arm from your grasp, “You really want to know? Fine”.

He looked toward the island as if to check and make sure you were alone. 

“I can’t…I can’t think around you. I can’t focus” He lowered his head,”I’ve tried to ignore how I feel around you, but it’s been just as useless as you training me”

For the first time in a long time, you were speechless. Crosshair was not a man of many words, nor was he one to express his feelings.

“Crosshair-” You tried to answer but he was uninterested in your counter argument. What he didn’t know was that there was no counter argument to be had. 

“Don’t. Just don’t” He groaned.

“I love you” You hurriedly responded spitting it out like it was stuck on your tongue. You laid  it all out plainly and simply. You loved him. You had for months. 

Crosshair’s expression held a look of pure disbelief that quickly transformed to warmth and content.

Your longing gaze pierced through his tough exterior. Something ignited within you as a tension pulled you into him, leaving hardly any room between the two of you

“I…” You whispered softly, but lost yourself in his eyes.

Without another breath, Crosshair curled his finger beneath your chin, pulling your lips up to meet his.

Nothing this electrifying had ever grazed your skin before. His lips pressed passionately against yours as if he’d waited years to do this. You leaned into him, resting your hands on his shoulders as your mouths became intertwined so rhythmically. 

Every fantasy you’d ever had of a moment like this that had always been shoved to the back of your mind came flooding back. Never did you think he’d feel the same way, but everything about his lips on yours just felt right. His finger beneath your chin trembled, and you were unsure how much it was from the overwhelming nerves of kissing you or the already present shake in his hands. You wrapped your hand around his, intertwining your fingers to calm him. The kiss was deep and raw, devouring each other as the motions intensified. A warmth spread through your body while your heart nearly lept from your chest. 

Slowly and hesitantly, you pulled away from the kiss to look up into his uncertain gaze. 

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that” He whispered, and a smile crept upon his face. Something rare and welcome that you never saw too often with him. 

“Me too” You smiled back, holding his hands in yours.

You wasted no more time before pulling him for another kiss. It was heavy and breathless. Your hands wandered from his to the firm muscles on his chest. Crosshair let his hands wander, too, until they hovered gently above your breasts. 

“Touch me” You breathed in between the motions of your lips. 

Your permission was all he needed. His hands explored your body like he was lost in the dark. Like he was starving for you. The boulders on this corner area of the beach kept you hidden in your own oasis, with very little concern of being discovered. Your fingertips found the hem of his black shirt, and tugged at it gently. 

“Here?” He pondered. 

“Why not?” You smirked. He nodded and helped you remove his shirt, revealing his battle scars and perfectly carved muscle. You admired it, trailing your hands down his abdomen. 

Conveniently, you had a blanket in your satchel that you brought with you. Crosshair rushed over to lay it out. He then took your hand in his and guided you to it.

“Lay down,” He instructed. As you did so, he hovered above you, his lips exploring your exposed neck and chest just above the neckline of your dress. You whimpered softly, unable to contain yourself even with the slightest of his touch.

His nervous touch was endearing as he traced up your thigh, searching for your most sensitive area. You shuffled your hips a bit, encouraging him to keep going 

“Are you sure?” He asked, his brows furrowed. It was a look of longing, concern, and desperation all in one. Crosshair needed you, but wouldn’t dare touch you like this without assurance. 

“Yes,” You breathed. 

He pulled your panties down, and you lifted your hips to help him remove them completely. 

He returned his fingers to your aching heat and discovered your arousal for him, which earned a small whimper from his lips. Crosshair knew exactly what he wanted to do to you. He’d surely thought about it enough in his head while he sat alone in his quarters, pumping himself to the fantasy of having you in his grasp like this. But, he was letting his nerves get the better of him now, and felt weary about how he’d perform for you. 

“Cross, please” You begged with a tone of reassurance. His hand rested on your thigh, just beneath where you craved his touch.

You felt his hand tremble subtly against your skin.

“Hey,” You started, pulling his attention to you, “it's just me and you” 

He nodded and kissed you hard, letting himself dive into you again, and found his fingers sliding through the wetness between your legs. He rubbed your clit in delicate circles and you bucked your hips up into his touch. He found a perfect rhythm and responded to your body’s signals as he felt them. 

“Maker…You’re so wet for me” He muttered in total awe of the effect he’d had on you. Looking down to your exposed cunt as the bottom of your dress now rested against your abdomen. Suddenly his middle finger found its way to your entrance and slid inside, pumping slowly and pushing you to the edge while his thumb kept working at your clit. 

Crosshair was propped on his side next to you, and instinctively ground his hips against your body, overcome with his desire to feel friction. He added another finger inside and fucked you as you rolled your hips into his hand. Each thrust of his curled digits grazed your most sensitive spot against your walls. A tingling sensation bundled and tightened in your lower belly, pushing you closer to your climax. 

“Don’t stop” You begged, and he listened.

“Come for me, darling” He instructed, which sent chills down your body. Hearing him say something so arousing was unfamiliar but absolutely intoxicating. 

With his lips at your neck and his fingers working eagerly inside of you, your release was so close now. Your senses were deliciously overwhelmed. 

“Crosshair” You cried his name before rolling your eyes into the back of your head, seeing stars, overwhelmed with the pleasure that flowed through your body as your orgasm overcame you. Your hips rolled up into his body still hovered above you and your back arched in response to the sensational feeling radiating through you. Your fingers dug into his arm but he never slowed his pace. Crosshair was absolutely infatuated with watching you fall apart for him. You came down from your euphoric high slowly, catching your breath in the process. 

“Are you alright?” He whispered. This was a side of him you never expected. You knew he could be caring and kind when he wanted to be, but seeing that translated to handling your body was a pleasant surprise. Your cunt hopelessly clenched around the emptiness as he removed his fingers. 

“Never better. Now, please fuck me” You demanded, chuckling softly. 

“Only because you asked so nicely,” He wasted not another moment before helping you lean up to remove your dress completely. Your breasts fell from the restraint of the fabric and caught his eye immediately. He took them into his hands massaging them gently before bringing his lips to your mounds and kissing them. 

He pulled his pants down just enough to release his length that begged to be touched. You stared in awe of his size. You opened your legs slightly, allowing room for him to adjust himself in between your legs. 

As he lined himself up with your entrance, he looked into your eyes and devoured you with a loving gaze. He kissed you softly before slowly sinking his cock into your wetness.

Crosshair choked on his next breath, your warmth encasing him perfectly as you took his length with ease. Once he bottomed out within you, he whimpered softly and buried his face into your neck. He was slow at first, allowing you to adjust to his size, which you probably needed as he was bigger than you expected. 

“Fuck, Y/N” He cursed, overwhelmed by it all. To be able to take you like this, having you begging for his cock, you writhing beneath him…it was all wonderfully too much, and he loved it. 

“Maker, it feels so good, Cross” You encouraged him. His cock stretched you open with each thrust as he picked up the pace. He fit inside you like you were made for each other, and you felt a closeness and intimacy you’d never experienced before. It was indescribable. 

You held his face in your hands as he thrust into you faster and harder, holding his gaze while you both let profanities and cries of pleasure fly from your lips. If there was anyone nearby, they would have heard you, but it was a remote area, and you could feel safe. Each curl of his hips snapping into you sent your mind and body into a frenzy of pleasure.

“You take me so well, sweetheart” He praised, turning his attention to looking down where he disappeared inside of you. Crosshair was no virgin, but he’d never experienced such intimacy and passion for someone like he did for you in this moment. He wanted this for so long, same as you. The months of lingering glances at one another, your heart racing each time your skin grazed his on the ship, the way you’d cared for him since he’d escaped Tantiss. It was all leading up to this moment of pure desire for one another, and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“I won’t last much longer” He 

You nodded to assure him it was okay. It was then that you felt another orgasm quickly creeping up on you. He could feel you tightening and knew you were close. 

“Come on my cock, that’s it” He spoke softly, his words sending you over the edge. 

It burst open, washing over your entire body, more captivating and intense than the first release. You dug your nails into the rigid muscles of his back, pulling him into you as he kept his pace. You cried out, feeling overtaken by the pleasure that electrified your entire body. His thrust began to falter and his body shook beneath your fingertips. 

Crosshair’s moans were low and rough as he reached his climax, spilling his release deep inside you, his brows furrowed and face twisted in pleasure. 

You both took time to catch your breath, soaking in the highs you were riding and taking in this feeling of closeness with one another. He was careful to remove himself from you, knowing you were both sensitive. 

He lay beside you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you into him.

“I love you too” He said suddenly, confusing you for a moment, before realizing that he was finally responding to your declaration of love to him earlier. 

You smiled up at him and laid your head onto his chest. As you listened to a combination of the gentle waves and the beating of his heart, you felt warm and loved for the first time in a long time.

#Crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair smut #fluff #angst #the bad batch #tbb #crosshair x f!reader #crosshair x you #reader insert #tbb fanfiction #bad batch #pabu #my work #stardust-kenobi