Tumgik
#but i can’t just LEAVE THE OTHERS HERE TO GET BURNED
cbini · 13 hours
Text
spring has sprung
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: bang chan x afab!reader
warnings: 🔞!!!, public sex, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, begging, creampie
a/n: to the lovely anon who sent me the ask abt chan fucking you while you’re on a picnic and you’re wearing a pretty lil sundress……. hi <3 u probably just wanted a little blurb but well here’s This instead lmao. nothing much but i hope u enjoy!!
“you’re spoiling me today!” he grins. 
chan’s dimples pop when he looks at you. he tongues his cheek as he leans back onto the quilted blanket and props himself up on his elbows. 
it’s true. he is being spoiled, but that’s your favorite way for him to be. chan loves intimate dates like this, tucked away from prying eyes and busy streets. he’s talked about how much he loves picnics before. the wistfulness in his eyes was so all-encompassing when he told you they reminded him of warm weather and home that you knew you had to do this for him. 
chan looks handsome and proud as he lazes on the blanket you’ve laid out. a heart-shaped, brown wicker basket sits to the side filled with finger foods and other snacks, alongside a homemade pitcher of pineapple lemonade. you’ve pulled out all the stops. 
how he can look so smug while his ears burn bright pink is amazing to you. he’s cute. he’s sexy. he’s so chan. you’re going to keep him. 
“show me again, will you?” 
you’re propped up on your palms across from him, and you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully at his question. chan giggles quietly at you and reaches out to run a strong hand up your naked calf. 
it’s easy to do as you’re asked. you’d tease him a little more if your heart weren’t pounding so hard in your chest and butterflies weren’t fluttering in your belly, but you never can seem to help yourself when it comes to chan. 
your legs part on their own accord, falling open all namby-pamby while you shake your head to move your hair out of your face. the thin, yellow dress you're wearing bunches around your waist to give chan the perfect view of your bare cunt, glistening wet and sweet in the warm sunlight. 
chan sucks a heavy breath through his teeth that makes your stomach swoop, and his knobby fingers walk their way to where you’re petal pink and wanting. 
the first touch of his thumb to your clit has your back bowing. as soon as the touch is there though, it’s gone. chan sucks his thumb into his mouth and hums at your taste, but he’s quick to bring his now slick digit back to your pussy. this time it’s smoother, wetter, and your fingers clench themselves into the blanket below you. 
“look at that,” he breathes. you do, bringing a hand up to pull your dress taut to your skin so that you can see chan rubbing slowly at your puffy clit without interruption. 
“d’you like it?” 
it’s a bit of a silly question, but you want to hear him talk more. 
he was just happy to get out of the studio for a little while and relax with his favorite person, so you know he wasn’t expecting this lovely little surprise. 
“i really, really like it. look at your little clit, oh my gosh. you’re perfect, baby.” 
his voice is quiet, focused solely on touching you so good that your legs threaten to close. he bites his bottom lip to try and contain his smile, but he can’t when he notices how shaky your legs are already. keeping his thumb where it is, chan rolls to the side so he’s closer to your cunt. 
you’re not expecting him to lean in and take a long whiff of where you’re leaking for him, and you try to keep the embarrassed squeal that threatens to leave your lips at bay. 
“christopher!” you cry, and all he does is giggle when you pull the cap off his head and hit him with it. “you’re a freak!” 
“heh. yeah, maybe. ceebs though.” 
the breath gets knocked from your lungs when he leans in again, this time only to lave his tongue around his thumb that’s still rubbing slow circles on your clit. you’re so lucky you chose somewhere private to have your little lunch date, otherwise everyone within walking distance would hear the way you keen for him. 
you lean your weight back on your palm and use your other hand to spread the lips of your pussy for him. he pats your thigh in thanks, shaking his head to bury his mouth deeper in your warmth. 
“that’s- oh, that’s it. suck on it like that, channie, please!” 
not one to tease when he’s just as turned on as you are, chan sucks your clit into his mouth. he sucks rhythmically, batting his tongue against it every now and then so perfectly that it makes your hole clench in desperation. chan turns his head to the side, nose pressed flush against the crease of your thigh, and flicks his tongue against you quickly. 
“mhm?” his question is muffled. your fingers have tangled themselves in his hair; he knows. chan’s breath is hot against your pussy, and you can feel yourself dripping sweat due to the combination of the warm sunlight and the pleasure your man is giving you. 
“mhm,” you whine back. your ass clenches as you raise your hips to try and get closer to his face. his mouth is so good, his lips are so plump and his tongue is so deft that no matter how much he gives you, you can’t get enough. “baby. baby, channie. need- need your cock in me so bad.” 
you sound almost winded, but chan’s just as worked up as you are. his eyes were closed, and he had to blink several times to focus his gaze on your face. 
“right here?” he asks, still pressed flush against your cunt. 
it’s secluded enough. honestly though at this point, it wouldn’t really matter to you. you need him so bad you’d let him have you almost anywhere. 
you answer him by tugging the top of your sundress down so that your tits spill over the thin cotton of the cups. chan looks to your face in awe, grin ever growing. as if in sync, you both reach for your newly exposed nipples at the same time. chan sits up and pinches one of the perky little buds between his fingers while you tweak the other one. 
“you’ve got a little something…” your sentence trails off, but you move your hand away to point at the lower half of his face and draw your finger in a half-assed, messy circle. 
his lips and chin are soaked, wet with you and his own spit. chan just smiles, and his precious dimples appear again. 
“oh really? i wonder what from.” 
he lays you fully on the blanket and smooths down your hair so it doesn’t touch the grass. you swear your heart skips a beat when he gently combs at your hair with his knobby fingers. chan is so thoughtful, so kind all the time that you never fail to remember how blessed you are. 
the taste of you is still strong on his tongue when he leans down to kiss you. chan brackets your body with his, strong arms framing your shoulders while he kisses you deeply and wholly. chan has a profound way of making you feel small and taken care of by how he carries himself, and this is no exception. 
you’re wetting the fabric of his shorts. you can tell by the way you rock against each other while you kiss. thank god his wardrobe still consists of so much black, otherwise you’d have to make him carry the picnic basket in front of him when you leave later. 
“please give me your cock,” you breathe against his lips. 
chan licks teasingly at the swell of your bottom lip but doesn’t wait for further instructions before he tugs his shorts down far enough to free his aching cock and balls. his cock is flushed a deep pink, the head a ruddy purple. 
“yeah? inside? right out here in the open?” 
you tilt your hips up, and chan’s eyes lock onto yours as he sheaths himself slowly inside until he’s settled balls deep. 
“ffffuck, shit,” he hisses. “this fucking pussy.” 
“mmm, your cock,” you echo, and he noses at your hairline.
it doesn’t take long before the echoes of your little wilderness tryst become frantic and loud. chan coaxes wet sounds from your cunt like it’s all he’s good for, bullying his cock inside so deep you swear you feel it in your throat. 
“y’look really pretty in this dress, did’ya know that?” his breathless question has you nodding your head. yes, you know. you wanted to look pretty for him. “good. ‘s good, you’re so pretty. hold- hold it, hold it up, yeah?” 
he wants to see. the skirt of your dress has already been flipped up, but you gather it and hold it closer to your body so chan can watch himself fuck you. you take it a step farther and slip the tiny straps of the top down your arms so you can pull it further down your body. the dress is bunched in the middle of your stomach now, your bouncing tits and sopping cunt free for chan’s eyes to roam. 
his thrusts turn sharp, hard. you know he’s close.
“you’ll cum inside me? you should. i need it inside, okay?” 
chan grunts like he’s in pain, and you moan in response when his top lip curls in a snarl. your hands map his broad back underneath the cotton of his t-shirt, reveling in how slick and warm his skin is from the sun and exertion. 
“how much?”
“all of it! i need- need it all inside! ‘til i’m dripping, please!” you wail. chan presses sloppy kisses to your heaving chest as his hand snakes down to roughly rub at your clit. it’s like an electric shock, and you wrap your arms and legs around his sturdy body to keep yourself tethered to earth. tethered to him. 
chan’s cock throbs. his balls ache. you want him to stuff you full of his cum right here, and he wants to give it to you. 
“alright, alright- don’t- fuck! fuck, keep clenching. gonna cum for you then. you gonna take it? just like you wanted, yeah?” 
chan rocks forward sharply and stills flush against the heat of your cunt. his balls are so heavy, and they ache to empty themselves inside your warmth. chan cums in ropes inside just as you asked, groaning against the clammy skin of your chest.
“baby come on, come on. do it, i can feel you clenching. you want it so bad, baby. there. there, oh that’s it, huh? come for me, sweetheart.” 
you shudder underneath him as you cum on his cock and his fingers, and chan settles more of his body weight on you just like he knows you crave after an intense orgasm. he smooths his fingers over your throbbing clit until you kick your foot lightly at his ass to let him know you’re done. 
chan slowly lifts himself up and sits back on his heels. the trees around you block most of the sunlight now, but you have to shade your eyes so you can see what your boyfriend is up to. his softened cock slips from your cunt. 
“push it out, sweetheart.” 
you hum a little, giggling with glee as you contract your cunt and feel his sticky cum begin to ooze from your used hole. 
342 notes · View notes
lucienarcheron · 3 days
Text
Spirit Meets the Bones - IX
Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please be mindful: some implied language may be found triggering.
shoutout to @abruisedmuse for being on this journey with me ♥️
Tagging: @climb-the-mountian | @vanserrass | @positivewitch | @readthelastpaage | @zenkindoflove | @animezinglife | @clockwork-ashes | @stormycleric | @eastofatlanta | @carolynmezzosoprano | @carnythian | @runningwiththeoceans | @readychilledwine | @goldenmagnolias | @thedarkinmansfield | @mali22 | @maidr-00 | @electromagnetic-waves | @theeternalstruggle | @devilsfoodcake22 | @the-midnightwriter | @moonfawnx | @weesablackbeak | @ladywhilemia | @illyrianshadowhunter | @alohaangels | @moobell55 | @bibliophiliaxvignette | @easchies | @thelovelymadone | @corcracrow | @feysandfeels
Find it all here.
Tumblr media
Eris blinked at the ceiling of their bedroom. Not that he had tasted sleep from where he lay on their ornate couch.  
Like a coward. 
He had waited for a half-hour that night before approaching the bathroom door and asking her to come out, but she had ignored him — refusing to come back and sleep in their bed. He hadn’t felt like sleeping in it either. 
Eris had listened carefully through that night, waiting to see if she’ll change her mind or if she was crying or whatever the fuck was going on in her mind, but Iris hadn’t made a peep.
He might’ve been proud of her for standing up to his father had she not brought him down in the process. Had she not locked him out of his own bathroom like a child.  
A day and a night had passed. 
She slept in the bathroom. He slept on the couch. Neither of them so much as acknowledging one another.
Iris only left the bathroom when he left their suite and immediately went right back in the moment he stepped back into the room.
He hated himself with the fire of a thousand suns and sat in that bitterness until dawn broke each morning for those two days. Eris debated for quite some time if he should just burn himself from the inside out and be done with it. But instead, he sat up with a groan. If she didn’t want to talk to him, fine. He wasn’t going to beg her. In fact, he wasn’t going to be nice to her at all. It clearly hadn’t gotten him anywhere.
Like a coward.
The words kept repeating themselves in his mind and anger surged through him each time, burning him, his self-loathing festering.
Getting up, he decided he wasn’t going to be gracious and leave her alone today.  Eris stalked over to the bathroom and pounded his fist against the door. 
“I need to use the restroom. Get out.”
Eris let a few minutes of silence pass between them before knocking more firmly. “Open the fucken door, Iris." 
It took a few seconds before her muffled response came. “Go piss somewhere else.”
He clenched his jaw. “If you don’t open the door, I will break it. You’re not going to lock me out of my bathroom for another day.”
Eris heard her stomping before she ripped the door open with a glare. “Your little boy bladder couldn’t wait a few more minutes? I was sleeping.” 
“Sorry to disturb you, Your Highness.” Eris sneered and Iris flushed. “You can resume your beauty sleep in the tub once I’m done with my business.”
They glared at each other and the moment seemed to stretch between them, all the nastiness of the last two nights weighing between them.
“You’re just the fucken worst, aren’t you,” she grumbled, shoving past him. “Talk about a terrible start to my morning.” 
Eris bristled and turned to glare at her back. “You want a terrible start? We can start training today and see where that mouth of yours will get you.”
Iris snorted and turned back to him. “Going to use training as an excuse to put me in my place?” she snapped. “Land some blows where people can’t see, hm?”
Eris froze, staring at her in disbelief. After everything he had explained to her. After everything said — “Take that back.” he breathed. “You take that back right now.”
But Iris only swallowed and stared him down. “No.”
Slowly, Eris fully turned to her, and he watched her as she watched him. Watched her as she braced herself — fixing her stance — clenching her own fists even as she eyed his fisted hands. 
He took one step towards her, and she took a step back.
And all the fight left his body. 
Eris let out a humorless, choked laugh and shook his head. “You — you have some nerve.” he said. “You’re just waiting for me to lay a hand on you.”
“I’d like to see you try.” 
“I’m not trying to.” he snarled. “Don’t you get that?”
But Iris held her ground and it was the look in her eyes that told him the last two nights had impacted her far worse than he had thought. He noticed then, the puffy eyes, the stiff back, and the slight tremble in her bottom lip.
Eris grimaced and shook his head again. “I’m not — I’m too tired for this shit.” he muttered and without waiting for her to do or say anything else to put him on edge, he walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. 
He didn’t remember washing up, changing or even leaving the room. He hadn’t spared her a single glance as he slammed their chamber door behind him. 
Eris made his way through his morning routine of checking in with his hounds and his sentries, then kept his check-in with his mother very brief as she hardly needed his shitty mood. 
She had only sighed at him and said, “Remember kindness. You both need it.” 
Personally, what Eris needed was a break. He needed distance, if only for a short while. Some time to think.
A fresh perspective from people outside of his wretched home.
And because he knew it was still early enough that they wouldn’t have left their home yet, Eris departed the Autumn Court and winnowed to the front gate of his brother’s home. 
Iris had watched him walk off this morning and only clenched her teeth when he slammed the door and left. Her lip trembled momentarily, but she refused to let herself cry anymore.  
Because it would make no difference. Nothing would change. 
She could handle beatings; she was used to those. It would be fine.
But it was the way Eris could hurt her — the way Beron had only snorted as if his son abusing his wife the other way was an absolutely appropriate response —
Iris shuddered and ran a shaky hand through her hair. She had barely slept a wink the last two nights, watching the door and waiting to see if he would break it open and come in anyway.  
Whenever she would finally drift off, Iris would jolt awake, sweating and panicked, because in her nightmares, Eris had barged in, and he had put his hands on her and put her in her place exactly as his father expected.
He’ll break you in ways that I couldn’t. Her father had said the night of their wedding and bile would rise in her throat. 
Her response to him this morning was the aftermath of those dreams, even if he truly had done nothing. Iris rubbed at her eyes and took several deep breaths. The dream was not the reality. He had not touched her. He seemed to have no intention of touching her. He had just...left. 
She grimaced and every terrible thing from the last two nights and this morning slammed into her mind all over again. 
“Why settle for the son of a high lord when the high lord himself could give you the attention you want?”
“If you decide to switch which Vanserra you spread your legs for, you’ll get to that goal much faster with my father.” 
“Stop looking at me like that. I do everything that I can.” 
“But I allow him to do and say whatever the fuck he wants to me as long as my mother has to stop taking the brunt of his shit.”
“You were just ready to use that against me, weren’t you?” 
Mustering what little energy she had left, Iris blinked tiredly then made her way back to the bathing room and cleared her things from it. Mechanically, she bathed and dressed as the thoughts replayed in her mind. Just as it had replayed when she brushed out her curls and continued to repeat as she stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror, barely registering what she was doing. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to be. 
Iris had felt his hurt at her words and knew, knew it didn’t have to be this way, but she didn’t know what else to expect. How else to react. All she knew was anger.
Maybe she could go see the hounds and feel better. Or maybe she could take a horse and ride off. 
Cauldron knew where he’d gone and when he’d come back. He didn’t seem likely to stop her. She could just — 
A light knock on the chamber door had her pause at the vanity. Who the hell would be coming to see them this morning?
“Who is it?” she asked quietly. 
“It’s me, Iris.” 
She froze at the voice of Lady Enya and whatever anxiety she had clamped down on since waking up, came barreling back into her.  
What could she be here for? Had Eris gone to complain? Would — would she be reprimanded? She couldn't see Lady Enya doing that but —
Realizing she hadn’t replied, Iris shot up from her seat, quickly smoothed down her dress, and looked over the room, cringing at the sign that the two of them clearly hadn’t been anywhere near each other.  
It would be fine. Lady Enya was kind. Iris needn’t expect the worst. 
Taking a deep breath, she cautiously approached the door and opened it halfway to find her mother-in-law before her, standing alone. She gave Iris a small smile.
“Hello, Iris.”
“Hello, Lady Enya,” Iris replied and bowed her head slightly. “How – how are you?”
Her mother-in-law smiled tightly. “Well enough. You?”
The anxiousness prickled at her skin and Iris’s grip tightened on the doorframe, giving Lady Enya her own tight smile. “Well enough too, I suppose.”
Enya nodded knowingly. “Understandable.” She paused for a moment before asking, “May I come in? I was hoping to sit with you for a bit if this isn’t a bad time.”  
“Of course, my Lady,” Iris replied and swallowed. “Eris — he isn’t here though.”
“That’s okay. I came to see you.” Lady Enya replied with a small smile and Iris blinked. “If you’ll have me, of course.”
“Of — of course. Please come in.” Iris said immediately, opening the door wider. 
Lady Enya smiled more fully as she stepped in, and Iris felt her cheeks heat as her mother-in-law surveyed their room with a knowing gaze. 
“We...didn’t have time to tidy up this morning. I’m sorry you have to see it this way.”
Enya chuckled. “I’m surprised he left the room so frazzled,” she said, continuing to glance around, her lips twitching. “Knowing my son, he would’ve had a stroke to walk out like this.”
“He’s too busy trying to give me one,” Iris mumbled then panic slammed in her as she quickly looked at her mother-in-law and cleared her throat, the color in her cheeks intensifying. “Sorry.”
Enya waved a hand with that small, knowing smile and walked toward their seating area. Iris watched as the Lady paused in front of their plush couch. She felt the heat spread through her body as she watched her mother-in-law’s lips twitch again, her gaze on the pillow with her son’s lingering scent, thrown there haphazardly. But Enya sat without a word and Iris stood for a moment before awkwardly taking a seat next to her. 
A moment of silence passed before Iris shot up again. “I, um, I can have them bring tea?” she quickly said then blinked. “I’m not actually sure how to ask for it, the tray usually just comes up — but if you’d like? Or — or a brew of coffee? Or —” 
Lady Enya seemed to be fighting back a smile as Iris’s face heated. Gently gripping her hand, her mother-in-law slowly pulled her back to sit next to her. 
“That’s not necessary. I just came to check in on you and chat,” she said and Iris blinked again. 
“Oh.”  
“I see the two of you are getting along splendidly,” Enya said, glancing at her, and Iris grimaced before quickly fixing her expression.
“Um. We, uh —”
But Enya chuckled again, and Iris realized with a flush she was teasing her. 
“I’d say we were a perfect match, but I don’t want to jinx it,” she said with a dry laugh then swallowed. “Dinner the other night certainly set that in stone.” 
Enya gave her a sad smile. “That’s why I’m here. I wanted to see how you were doing,” she said, and Iris avoided her gaze. “I’m sorry it went the way it did. It was just supposed to be the three of us.”
Iris shook her head, her eyes on her hands settled in her lap. “Please don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong.” 
Lady Enya sighed. “That whole evening was wrong,” she said, her lips a thin line. “I’m sure Eris wasn’t happy with how it went either. I assume the two of you have discussed it.” 
“Discussed it. Yes.” Iris said with a snort then straightened, glancing at her mother-in-law who gave her a small smile. 
“I’m assuming you two had it out. I hope my son isn’t bleeding out somewhere.” 
Iris’s flush deepened. “He’s escaped unscathed for now,” she mumbled. “Dagger was too far.”
“As his mother, I am grateful for that.” 
They shared another small smile and it fell silent again. Iris bit her lip and then met her mother-in-law’s gaze. 
“I am sorry if anything I said caused you any additional distress,” she said quietly. “My mouth has gotten the better of me before.”  
Enya shook her head. “I’m sorry you were put in a position to deal with it at all,” she replied with a frown. “I know Eris is very upset about it as I’m sure you are as well.”
Iris tensed and her fingers gripped her dress. “I am...deeply unsettled.”
Lady Enya’s expression tightened, and it was a moment before she could answer. “The High Lord believes things should always be a certain way. He is accustomed to his way of things and will offer no accommodations for anything to be different from what he is used to. Including the way he speaks to people.” she said carefully. “His way, however, is not the correct way nor is it a way I agree with. Neither does my son.”
Enya paused and surveyed Iris. “We have found ways to work around it,” she said slowly. “But now, you’re in the picture so the scope of our methods needs to be adjusted. I hope you will grant us patience with it.”
Iris digested this for a moment, biting her lip and her mother-in-law reached out a hand.
“I know this transition hasn’t been easy on you at all so please know, you can take all the time you need to get used to it,” she said and smiled at Iris. “I am here for you and happy to be here as you adjust.” 
Iris’s face softened and she placed a hand atop Enya’s. “Thank you, Lady Enya. I am grateful for your words and...am glad you feel this way.” 
“Please don’t call me lady.” her mother-in-law said with a smile. “You’re my daughter now too. If you’re comfortable calling me mother, I would be thrilled.”
Iris flushed and blinked rapidly, emotion rising through her at the word. She had never been given the chance to call anyone mother. She had never been given a chance to do a lot of things. 
“I would love that,” she said softly, and her mother-in-law smiled brightly at her, squeezing her hand. 
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said and as they fell silent again, she watched Iris curiously for a moment. Then Enya quietly added, “Eris left early, hm?”
“...Yes,” Iris said and at her hesitation, her mother-in-law tilted her head.  “I’m not sure where he went but...he didn’t leave on a good note.” 
“Mmm.” Lady Enya mused, then patted her hand. “He’ll be back. Do you think you’ll be open to talking to him when he returns?”
Iris blinked. After their discussion earlier, she wasn’t sure Eris would want to talk to her, much less listen to anything she had to say. Maybe he would prefer she kept quiet for once and he did all the talking.
“I don’t think I have much of a choice in whether or not he’ll want to talk to me.”
Lady Enya pursed her lips. “With the son I raised, you will always have a choice, Iris.” she said firmly, and Iris’s brows furrowed. Enya paused for a moment. “May I speak freely? I’d like to give you my opinion if you’d like to hear it.” 
Iris flushed at the question. As if she’d say no.
“Of course, La — of course. Please speak as freely as you’d like.”
Her mother-in-law gave her a small smile and then gently spoke. “I never want to overstep between the two of you as you navigate this relationship of yours, however...know that this will take time and patience. It will take effort to build something of value between the two of you.” Enya paused and took a deep breath. “I think the most important part is whether you want to put in this effort. Your intentions play a big role in how it will proceed and truly, I understand if you are hesitant. The question becomes...do you find that you want to know my son as a husband? As a partner?”
Iris bit her lip and looked down. Would it matter if she did or not? She was already his wife. Nothing about that would change, regardless of her intentions. So, she answered honestly. 
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “There’s so much I’m unsure of...I don’t know what to believe about him.”
Lady Enya hummed then sighed. “I know this might be hard to believe because of what people think they know about him but...know that my son has a good heart. Even though he’s always been forced to hide it,”  she said quietly. “And I’m not only saying this because he’s my son. I’m saying this because I’ve lived with someone who has gone out of their way to make my every waking hour difficult. Who does the same to him.” 
Iris looked up in surprise at the words. At the very vulnerable confession. She met the firm gaze of her mother-in-law.  
“My son is not his father,” Enya said very, very softly. “Even though he has to pretend otherwise. He will not be that way with you.”
Iris straightened as a tense silence filled the room and Lady Enya’s eyes didn’t waver from hers.
“But that doesn’t mean he won’t make mistakes. Or say foolish things. You both will and should hold each other accountable for them each time. He will listen.” she said, and the corner of her mouth lifted. “Threaten to stab him a few times, if need be, goodness knows he needs it at times with that mouth of his.”
Iris bit back a smile at the knowing look Enya shot her then sobered as she added, 
“But also...grant him a little patience. He’s never had something like this before.” 
“Did you even consider what this has been like for me?” He had snarled at her the other night.
She hadn’t. Not really. Iris pursed her lips, rubbing a finger to her brow as she quietly spoke. “We...haven’t been very kind to each other. I — I haven’t been very kind.” 
Lady Enya nodded knowingly. “I’m sure with the heightened emotions, kindness was the last thing on either of your minds. That night was a stressful evening for you both,” she said gently. “If you are willing and you find yourself wanting to, be honest with him. He will meet you in the middle if you are willing to meet him.”
Iris grimaced and before she could stop herself, she muttered, “The idea of being vulnerable with him makes me want to vomit.”
Her mother-in-law laughed softly and gave her a knowing look. “I don’t want to speak for him but as his mother, I can tell you with absolute certainty, he feels exactly the same way.” 
Iris’s lip twitched, and then she sighed, her fingers curling in her lap. “I guess that makes it a little better.”
“Mutual embarrassment does make things a tad easier.”
Iris gave a small shrug with heated cheeks, wondering if Eris would ever feel as embarrassed as she had felt at this moment. “I suppose I can find it in me to be nice to him when he comes back.”
Her mother-in-law gave her an amused smile. “Don’t be too nice, now. We do need to keep him in check,” she said with a wink and Iris chuckled. The two sat in a few moments of comfortable silence as Iris processed what she was being told. 
 “I — I don’t know how to not doubt him,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how to...trust him.”
“Time and patience, my dear,” Enya replied with a small smile. “As much as you think you’ll have a hard time trusting him...Eris trusts people even less than you do. You were thrust into his life as suddenly as he was into yours and he isn’t very good at expressing his feelings.” she said and gave her a gentle smile. “You both are coming from the same place. Trust yourself and your judgment. But also...give him the chance to prove himself to you. Kindness will go a long way.” 
It was one thing for Iris to be worried about trusting him, but it was a completely different idea to think of him being scared of trusting her. Eris being scared of anything that had to do with her was a thought that hadn’t crossed her mind at all. 
Iris bit her lip, the idea of being even more open with him, giving him the chance to find ways where he could hurt her through this vulnerability —
Lady Enya squeezed her hand gently with a short chuckle. “You’re making the same face he does when he’s overthinking things. Both of you have come to expect the worst from others. Don’t let that seep into your marriage.”  
Iris swallowed and then licked her lips. “It — it doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to be a real marriage,” she whispered.  
Lady Enya reached out a hand and gently brushed back a loose strand of hair from Iris’s face, then rested a hand on her cheek with a sad smile. “I know it can be scary to start a new chapter of your life with so little choice in the matter, but you are not alone,” she said then firmly added. “I am here. So is Eris, if you’ll have him. When he returns, talk things out. You two get to decide how real you want it to be.”
Iris blinked and her throat bobbed as emotion clogged in her throat, at the tender touch of a mother to her cheek. She resisted the deep urge to hug her. She hadn’t been hugged in so long. By anyone soft-hearted. By anyone who understood. By...anyone at all. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, and her eyes welled up at the look of understanding that crossed Enya’s face. 
Lady Enya smiled softly and pulled her into her arms, giving Iris a bone-crushing hug, one that she had been craving. She sagged in her arms and Enya seemed to hug her tighter, especially when Iris let out a sniffle.
It took Iris a few minutes before she shakily pulled away, sniffling quietly. She let out a breath and quickly wiped at her eyes, her cheeks coloring in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s been a very stressful few days.”
“I’m sure it has.” her mother-in-law said kindly. “Never apologize. I’m here. I understand.”
Iris nodded, hands gripping her dress to restrain her from asking for another hug. “Thank you.” she said again then licked her lips before testing the word, “Mother.”
Lady Enya beamed. “It sounds so lovely when you say it,” she said and squeezed her hand. “I hope all we discussed doesn’t make it seem like I’m trying to speak for Eris or justify anything that has happened but...I hope it helps your willingness to understand him a little more.” Enya bit her lip then added carefully, “I hope you feel more comfortable allowing him the chance to understand you.” 
Iris swallowed as the word hope clanged through her. The morning after, she had woken up with hope. Hoping for something more. Hoping for things to be different even though she still had her doubts. 
Her eyes dropped down into her lap. Iris’s grip tightened in the folds of her dress as she looked up at her mother-in-law’s face and then back to her lap, her heart thundered wildly in her chest. “I just —” she began then continued in a whisper, “I want to trust him. I want to but I’m afraid. I’m so afraid he’s going to be just like my father — that he’ll hurt me too and I —" 
Lady Enya’s hand came to gently lift Iris’s chin and met her gaze. The fire blazing in them had Iris widening her eyes.  
“My son would never lay a hand on you,” she said quietly but Iris didn’t miss the firmness in her tone. “He has been abused and has watched others around him be abused his whole life and knows what that does to a person. I raised him as best as I could to know better. To try and be better as much as he could in the circumstances we’re in.” Enya paused and released Iris’s chin to touch her cheek with a sad smile. “I wish I could take away your doubts about him but alas, I cannot. You will have to allow yourself to discover what he has to offer you. I can only assure you as best as I can that you are safe with him. He will keep you safe with everything he has. You only have to allow it.”
Iris swallowed and then nodded tightly as Lady Enya stood and Iris stood with her.  
“I will give you some time alone then,” she said, squeezing Iris’s upper arm. “I simply wanted to see how you are doing. I don’t want to impose.”
Iris gave her a small smile. “You could never. I had hoped you and I would spend as much time together as possible.”
Lady Enya smiled. “We certainly will. I will make sure of it,” she said and then taking both of Iris’s hands into her own, she met her gaze. “Despite the less-than-ideal circumstances of you joining our family, I am thrilled you’re here and to have you as my daughter. I look forward to us getting to know each other well.” She gave her a knowing look. “Don’t hesitate to come to me for anything, understood?” 
Following Lady Enya slowly to the door, Iris felt the weight that had been sitting on her chest lift as her mother-in-law turned back to her one last time. “I expect to see you with Eris for tea starting tomorrow, alright? Then we’ll shoo him and spend time alone.” 
Iris gave her a small smile. “Sounds like a plan.” 
Lady Enya gave her another smile and quietly departed, leaving Iris to stand at the open door to process.
Shutting it silently, she leaned against it for a moment and took a breath. Iris knew her fear was valid. Her apprehension was valid, even if Eris was trying his best. Even with all his mother said.  
But then Iris thought back to his shocked face from this morning.  
His disbelief when he said, “Take it back.”
She bit the inside of her cheek and walked towards her vanity, slowly sinking into the chair. She gazed at herself in the mirror, her eyes taking in her expression of worry. Iris was certainly entitled to how she felt but... reacting the way she did hadn’t made her feel any better. She sighed then turned and gazed around her living space. Her new home.
Home yet…
What did she want? Did she want something with Eris?  
She wasn’t foolish to think this marriage couldn’t play out to her advantage. That already, he wasn’t planning to limit her entire existence the way she had been with her father. But at what cost? Did it have a cost? How much would she have to endure?
And when he came back...would he want to talk to her? And more importantly, what would Eris have to say?
47 notes · View notes
fourthwingfan · 2 days
Text
Madness - Chapter 12
Hi, My Lovely Readers! I really appreciate your messages. You guys are awesome!
And as I promised the new chapter is here. Enjoy :)
Presentation Day is unlike any other. The air is ripe with possibilities, and possibly the stench of sulfur from a dragon who has been offended. Never look a red in the eye. Never back down from a green. If you show trepidation to a brown…well, just don’t.
—Colonel Kaori’s Field Guide to Dragonkind
There are 169 of us by the time the morning is done and, and with our time we’ve placed first out of the thirty-six squads for Presentation—the piss-inducing parade of cadets before this year’s dragons willing to bond.
Anxiety seizes me at the thought of walking so close to dragons determined to weed out the weak before Threshing, and I suddenly wish we’d placed last.
The fastest up the Gauntlet was Liam, of course, earning him the Gauntlet patch. Pretty sure he doesn’t know how to take second place. But I’m really proud of him. He deserves it.
The box canyon that makes up the training field is spectacular in the afternoon sun, with miles of autumn-colored meadows and peaks rising on three sides of us as we wait at the narrowest part, the entrance to the valley. At the end, I can make out the line of the waterfall that might be just a trickle of a creek now but will rush at runoff season.
The leaves of the trees are all turning gold, as though someone has brought in a paintbrush with only one color and streaked it across the landscape.
And then there are the dragons.
Averaging twenty-five feet tall, they’re in a formation of their own, lined up several feet back from the path—close enough to pass judgment on us as we walk by.
“Let’s go, Second Squad, you’re up next,” Garrick says, beckoning us with a wave that makes the rebellion relic on his bared forearm gleam.
Theo and the other squad leaders stayed behind. It’s only the five of us.
“Into formation,” Garrick orders, his tone all business, which doesn’t surprise me given that his leadership style is more mission first, niceties last. Go figure he seems to be so close to Xaden. Unlike Xaden, though, the right side of his uniform has a neat line of patches proclaiming him Flame’s section leader as well as more than five patches advertising his skill with a multitude of weapons.
Interesting. We’re in the Tail section. Why is he here?
We comply, and Liam and I end up near the back this time.
Garrick’s hazel eyes skim over us. “Hopefully Theo has done his job, so you know that it’s a straight walk down the meadow. I’d recommend staying at least seven feet apart—”
“In case one of us gets torched,” Ethan mutters from ahead.
„Correct, Ethan. Cluster if you want, just know if a dragon finds disfavor with one of you, it’s likely to burn the whole lot to weed one out,” Garrick warns, holding our gazes for a beat. “Also, remember you’re not here to approach them, and if you do, you won’t be making it back to the dormitory tonight.”
“Can I ask a question?” Vila says from the front row.
Garrick nods, but the ticking of his jaw says he’s annoyed. I can’t blame him. Vila annoys the shit out of me, too. It’s her constant need to tear everyone down that makes most of us keep our distance.
“After Gauntlet I met a couple of the second- and third-years, and I talked to some of them…”
“That’s not a question.” He lifts his brows.
Yep, he’s annoyed.
“Right. It’s just that they said there’s a feathertail?” Her voice pitches upward.
“A f-feathertail?” Rio sputters from directly in front of me. “Who the hell would ever want to bond a feathertail?”
I roll my eyes, and Liam shakes his head.
“Professor Kaori never told us there would be a feathertail,” Ethan says. “I know because I memorized every single dragon he showed us. All hundred of them.”
“Well, guess there’s a hundred and one now,” Garrick replies, looking at us as if we’re children he’d like to be rid of before glancing back over his shoulder at the entrance to the valley. “Relax. Feathertails don’t bond. I can’t even remember the last time one has been seen outside the Vale. It’s probably just curious. You’re up. Stay on the path. You walk up, you wait for the entire squad, you walk back down. It really doesn’t get any easier than this from here on out, kids, so if you can’t follow those simple instructions, then you deserve whatever happens in there.” He turns and heads over to a path before the canyon wall where the dragons are perched.”
We follow, breaking away from the crowd of first-years.
“They’re all yours,” Garrick says to the quadrant’s senior wingleader, a woman I’ve seen a few times in Battle Brief murmuring to Xaden. Her uniform still has her signature spikes on the shoulders, but this time they’re gold and look sharp as hell—like she wanted to throw in a little extra badass today.
Cool.
She nods and dismisses him. “Single file.”
We all shuffle into a line.
Liam is at my back and Rio just ahead of me, which means I’ll be treated to his commentary the whole time, no doubt. Awesome.
“Talk,” the senior wingleader says, folding her arms across her chest.
“Nice day for a Presentation,” I joke.
“Not to me.” The senior wingleader narrows her gaze on me, then motions to the line of cadets before her. “Talk to your nearby squadmates while you’re on the path, as it will help the dragons get a sense of who you are and how well you play with others. There’s a correlation between bonded cadets and level of chatter.”
And now I want to switch places.
“Feel free to look at the dragons, especially if they’re showing off their tails, but I would abstain from eye contact if you value your life.” She pauses long enough for that bit of advice to sink in, then adds, “See you after your stroll.”
With a sweep of her hand, the senior wingleader steps to the side, revealing the dirt path that leads through the center of the valley, and up ahead, sitting so perfectly still that they might be gargoyles, are the hundred and one dragons who have decided to bond this year.
The line starts, and we give one another the suggested seven feet before following.
I’m hyperaware of every step as I walk down the path. The trail is hard beneath my boots, and there’s a definite lingering odor of sulfur.
We pass a trio of red dragons first. Their talons are almost half my size.
“I can’t even see their tails!” Rio shouts from in front of me. “How are we supposed to know what breed they are?”
I keep my eyes locked at the level of their massive, muscled shoulders as we walk by. “We’re not supposed to know what breed they are,” I respond.
„Fuck that,” he says over his shoulder. “I need to figure out which one I’m going to approach during Threshing.”
“Pretty sure this little walk is so they can decide,” I retort.
“Hopefully one of them will decide you don’t get to make it to Threshing,” Liam says, his voice quiet so it barely reaches me.
I laugh as we approach a set of browns, both slightly smaller than General Sorrengail’s Aimsir, but not by much.
“They’re a little bigger than I thought they would be,” Ethan says, his voice rising. He’s in front of Rio. “Not that I didn’t see the ones at Parapet, but…”
I look over Rio’s shoulder to see his wide gaze flickering between the path and the dragons. He’s nervous.
“So Ethan, how long do you know each other with Liam?” I ask him, continuing to walk forward past a handful of oranges.
“What?” He asks.
“We’ve been squadmates for a few months now, but I don’t know much about you.” I try to distract him.
“Well our family were close before…you know.” He says slowly, tugging down his sleeves. Yeah, I know. “We practically grew up together. And we were always in trouble. Mostly because of him.”
“Come on, really?” I laugh and glance back at Liam. He smirks and shrugs.
“Yes. He and his sister were real troublemakers.” Ethan laughs with us.
“But you never said anything. You always took the blame with us.” Liam says behind me.
“That’s true.” Ethan nods. “Because we’re friends.”
“I didn’t even know about your sister.” I say over my shoulder, lowering my gaze immediately when I accidentally make eye contact with one of the oranges.
“She’s just like you. I think you would get along well.” Liam says. “Sloane is fierce and her personality is matches yours.”
“What do you mean by that?” I glare at him.
“You’ll see. She joins us next year.” His voice is thick with concern.
“Don’t worry, Liam. We will be there for her. I promise.” I smile at him.
I will do anything to make him survive the year. That’s the least I can do for him.
“And what about you?” Liam asks. “Are you going to write someone once we get priviliges?”
“Yeah. Probably for Mira.” I say. “She used to write letters for Violet and me. And I think it’s a bullshit rule that we are not allowed to write letters in the first year.”
“You don’t think it encourages loyalty to the wing?” He asks.
“I think I’m just as loyal to her whether I’ve had a letter from her or not,” I counter. “There are bonds that can’t be broken.”
“I’d be loyal to her, too,” Rio says, turning around and grinning as he walks backward. “She’s one hell of a rider, and that ass. I saw her right before Parapet and damn, Aelin. She’s hot.”
We pass by another set of reds, then a single brown and a pair of greens.
“Turn around.” I make the spinning motion with my finger. “Mira would eat you for breakfast, Rio.”
“I’m just wondering how one of them got all the good traits and the other looks like she got the leftovers.” He refers to Violet.
“You’re an asshole.” I flip him the middle finger.
“Just saying, maybe I’ll write a letter of my own once we get privileges.” He turns and continues walking.
We pass more dragons, and my breathing starts to settle. The smell of sulfur disappears, or maybe I’ve just grown accustomed to it. They’re close enough to torch us, but I can’t hear them breathing or feel it, either.
We pass the halfway mark and continue.
Is the way the dragons stare at us scary as hell? Absolutely, but they want to be here the same as we do, so at least I hope they’ll be judicious with their firepower.
“When did you come up with your plan about the rope? Or the dagger?” Liam asks. “I know it bothered you a lot, that Violet couldn’t make it to the top. You could have told me. You can trust me, you know.”
“I trust you with my life, Liam! And we didn’t think of it until yesterday,” I answer, taking the time to look over my shoulder so I can see him. “And if it didn’t work, I didn’t want you to be an accomplice. You have a real future here, and I refuse to bring you down with us.
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
“I know. But it’s just what friends do, Liam.” I shrug as we walk by a trio of browns, the soft crunch of our boots on the dark gravel path the only sound for a few minutes. “You protect me, I protect you. It’s simple.”
“You keeping any other secrets up there?” He asks.
“I think it’s impossible to know everything there is to know about someone. But you know me the best.”
He snorts a laugh. “If that wasn’t skirting the question.”
“At least I was honest.” I laugh too.
“You guys done bonding back there?” Rio sneers. “Because we’re almost to the end of the line, if you haven’t noticed.” He pauses in the middle of the path, his gaze swinging right. “And I still can’t figure out which one I’m going to choose.”
“With arrogance like that, I’m sure any dragon would feel lucky to share your mind for the rest of your life.” I pity whatever dragon—if any—chooses him.
The rest of the squad is gathered ahead of us, facing our direction at the end of the path, but all their attention is focused to the right.
We pass the last brown dragon, and I inhale sharply.
“What the hell?” Rio stares.
“Keep walking,” I order, but my gaze is transfixed.
Standing at the end of the line is a small golden dragon.
Sunlight reflects off its scales and horns as it stands to its full height, flicking a feathered tail around the side of its body. The feathertail.
My jaw drops as I take in the sharp teeth and quick, darting movements of its head as it studies us. At its full height, it’s probably only a few feet taller than I am, like a perfect miniature of the brown next to it.
I walk straight into Rio’s back and startle. We’ve reached the end of the path, where the rest of the squad has been waiting.
“Get off me, Melgren,” Rio hisses and shoves me back. “Who the hell would bond that thing?”
My chest tightens. “They can hear you,” I remind him. “And who the hell would bond you?”
“It’s fucking yellow.” Vila points right at the dragon, disgust curling her lip. “So not only is it obviously too small to carry a rider in battle, but it’s not even powerful enough to be a real color.”
“Maybe it’s a mistake,” Ethan says quietly. “Maybe it’s a baby orange.”
“It’s full grown,” Liam argues. “There’s no way the other dragons allow a baby to bond. No human alive has ever seen a baby.”
“It’s a mistake all right.” Rio looks at the golden one and scoffs. “It’s freakishly weak.”
“It looks powerful enough to burn you to death,” I counter.
“Maybe you should be the one to burn to death, Melgren.” He sneers. “You’re useless. You’re only trying to protect Sorrengail because she’s weak, and because of this you’re weak too. The likes of you should be eliminated.”
Before I can say anything Liam lunges between us, grabbing Rio’s collar. “Don’t ever say that about a squadmate, especially not in front of unbonded dragons.”
“Let him go—he’s just saying what we’re all thinking,” Vila mutters.
I turn slowly to stare at her. Is this what happens to us the second we’re out of hearing range of any superior cadet? We turn on one another.
Ethan puts his hand on Liam’s arm. “Don’t make a mistake in front of them. We don’t know what they’ll do,” he whispers. And now we’re grouped up.
I shuffle backward a little as Liam drops Rio’s collar.
“Someone should kill it before it bonds,” Rio sputters, and for the first time in my life, I actually want to kick someone while they’re down…and keep kicking until they stay down. Or I should simply kill him. It would be easier.
„It’s just going to get its rider killed, and it’s not like we get a choice if it wants to bond us.”
“You’re just picking up on that now, are you?” Liam shakes his head.
“We should go back, they’re staring at us” Vila says, her gaze darting around the group.
We take off one by one, leaving the suggested space between us. Rio is the first, Liam goes before me this time and Ethan follows behind, with Vila bringing up the rear.
„They’re pretty incredible, aren’t they?” Ethan says, and the wonder in his voice makes me smile.
“They are,” I agree. “I’m so excited to see which dragons will choose us.”
“They’re honestly a little underwhelming after seeing that blue at Parapet.” Vila’s voice carries all the way to Liam, who turns around with a glare.
“Like this isn’t stressful enough without you insulting them?” He asks.
I need to defuse this quickly. “Yes, Sgaeyl is amazing but, don’t think these dragons sizes mean they’re weak. And it could be worse. We could be walking past a line of wyvern, right?”
“Oh please, Aelin, spare us. You’re ridiculous.” Vila says sarcastically. “Let me guess. Wyvern are some elite squad of gryphon riders created because of something we did at a battle.
“You don’t know what a wyvern is?” Liam asks, then begins walking again. “Didn’t your parents tell you bedtime stories, Vila?”
“Do enlighten me,” Vila drawls.
I roll my eyes, continuing along the path. “They’re folklore,” I say over my shoulder. “Kind of like dragons but bigger, with two feet instead of four, a mane of razor-sharp feathers streaking down their necks, and a taste for humans. Unlike dragons, who think we’re a little gamey.”
I notice each dragon as we pass, but my heartbeat steadies. “Violet’s father used to read to us those fables every night,” I tell her. “And Violet seriously asked him one time if her mother was going to turn into a venin because she could channel.” I laugh at the memory.
Liam chuckles as we walk by a set of glaring reds. “Did he tell you people supposedly only turn into venin if they channel directly from the source?”
“He did, but it was after her mother had a really long night, and her eyes were bloodshot red, so she freaked out and started shrieking.” I laugh harder. “She took her book of fables away for a month because the guards all came running, and Violet was hiding behind her brother, who couldn’t stop laughing, and, well…it was a mess.” I keep my eyes front and center as a large orange sniffs the air when I pass.
Liam’s shoulders shake with laughter. “I wish I could have seen it.”
“That sounds like some border-village nonsense.” Vila scoffs. “Venin? Wyvern? Anyone with a modicum of education knows that our wards stop all magic that isn’t channeled directly from dragons.”
“They’re stories, Vila,” I say over my shoulder, and I can’t help but notice how much ground we’ve covered.
One of the dragons blows air on us. There’s a smell of sulfur. Maybe we should hurry before the dragon decides to scorch us.
„Oh my gods, the smell,” Vila complains.
“What did you expect? They’re dragons.” I roll my eyes, turning around to level a glare at her, but Liam’s face makes me pause.
His eyes are as wide as saucers, and his mouth hangs open. “Aelin.”
It’s a whisper, and I wonder briefly if I heard him as much as I saw the word forming on his lips.
“Ael—”
A warm huff of steam blows against the back of my neck. My heart thunders, the beat increasing erratically as I take what might be my last breath and turn toward the line of dragons.
The golden eyes of not one but two greens meet mine, consuming my field of vision.
Oh. Fuck.
To approach a green dragon, lower your eyes in supplication and wait for their approval. That’s what I read, right?
I drop my gaze as one chuffs another breath at me. It’s hot and appallingly wet, but I’m not dead yet, so that’s a plus.
The one on the right chortles deep in its throat. Wait, is that the sound of approval I’m looking for? Shit, I wish I’d asked Mira.
I lift my head and suck in a sharp breath. They’re even closer. The one on the left nudges my hands with its giant nose, but I somehow stand my ground, rocking back on my heels to keep from falling over.
Greens are the most reasonable.
The one on the right sets its nose right at my breasts and chuffs again.
What. The. Hell.
It inhales, making that noise in its throat, and the other shoves its nose into my ribs, making me raise my arms just in case they feel like taking a little nibble.
“Aelin!” Liam whisper-shouts.
“I’m all right!” I call back, then wince, hoping I didn’t just seal my fate by screaming in their ears.
Another chuff. Another chortle, like they’re talking to each other as they sniff me.
The one under my arm moves its nostrils to my back and sniffs again.
Realization hits and I choke out a tight, surreal laugh. “You smell Teine, don’t you?” I ask quietly.
They both draw back, just far enough for me to look them in their golden eyes, but they keep their jaws shut, giving me the courage to keep talking.
“I got if from Mira.” Slowly lowering my arms, I run my hands over my snot-covered vest and the armor carefully sewn into it. “She collected Teine’s scales after he shed them last year and had them shrunk down so she could sew them into the vest to help keep me safe. You will meet her sister too. Violet is here and she has the same vest as me.”
The one on the right blinks.
The one on the left sticks its nose in again, sniffing loudly.
“The scales have saved me a few times,” I whisper. “But no one else knows they’re in there. Just Violet, Mira and Teine.”
They both blink at me, and I lower my gaze, bowing my head because it feels like the thing to do. Professor Kaori taught us every way to approach a dragon and exactly zero ways to disengage one.
Step by step, they retreat until I see them take up their places in line in my peripherals, and I finally raise my head.
“Thank you for not eating me.” I smile at them.
“Aelin!” Liam groans.
Taking several deep breaths, I try to lock my muscles to keep me from shaking.
 „Aelin.” Liam is only a few feet away, a look of terror in her eyes. He must have been right behind their heads.
“I’m fine.” I smile and nod. “I have dragon-scale armor under the vest,” I whisper. “They smell Mira’s dragon. Please don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t,” he whispers. “You’re all right?”
“Other than having a few years of my life shaved off.” I laugh.
“Let’s get out of here.” He nods, his gaze darting toward the line of dragons.
“Good idea.”
He turns and walks back to his place, and once there’s fifteen feet between us, I follow.
“I think I just shat myself,” Ethan says, and my laughter only pitches higher as we move through the field.
“Honestly, I thought they were going to eat you,” Vila remarks.
“Me too,” I admit.
“I wouldn’t have blamed them,” she continues.
“You’re insufferable,” Ethan calls back.
I focus on the path and keep walking.
“What? She’s obviously not fit to be a rider. We need to be strong and mercless. We need to choose a dragon-“
A blast of heat singes my back and I halt.
Don’t be Ethan. Don’t be—
“Guess the dragons think she’s insufferable, too,” Ethan mutters. Our squad is down to four first-years.
28 notes · View notes
camgoloud · 3 months
Text
i simply feel that if you burn shit in your roommate’s skillet you should then feel the obligation to be the one who scrapes it out and cleans up
#sometimes i think about the fact that i’m literally the only person who’s cleaned the kitchen in this place for the entire year and a half#i’ve lived here and i get. a little pissed off#i’ve tried being polite and bringing up the problem without explicitly pointing fingers by leaving cleaning products (which i bought)#out on the counters and sending a text in the group chat like ‘hey! 😊 i got these wipes for us! i think that all of us could#use these a little more often so that the kitchen doesn’t get so gross!’ but it seems that everyone either has no sense of shame or just#genuinely doesn’t mind living in filth for the periods between the marathon cleaning sessions i do every few weekends when i have the time#one of the guys who lives downstairs will just walk right by me cleaning up on his way to the fridge and pretend he can’t see me#which is still better than the other one (the one who just burned shit in my skillet) who once saw me cleaning and asked if he could help#and when i got all pleased and asked if he could maybe take the trash out for me while i was cleaning counters (a small and simple task!#when he’d literally asked me if there was anything he could do!) he visibly deflated. said ‘well i’m not really around here much [so it’s#not my trash in there etc.]’ and wandered off. without doing anything#like. HELLO???? you could have just been like the other guy and pretended you didn’t see me doing all the work if this was how you were#going to be about it#but i guess he wanted to feel good about himself having offered/expected me to just say ‘oh no thanks i love being your housekeeper 😊’#tbh i really need to be more assertive and be like ‘hey guys i’m sick of this’ and maybe. bring up the Sexism of it all. because.#you know. the whole situation feels pretty gendered#was complaining about all this to an irl friend the other day and she said i should start a chore chart but i don’t want to be responsible#for maintaining the chore chart either! take on the mental load of managing the housework and also turning into Resident Bitch for asking#men to do things for me. you know. there is simply no way out here#there is another woman who lives here as well but unfortunately i don’t think she’ll be much help in forcing the issue because. she doesn’t#clean shit either!#actually in the days since she moved in the shower drain in our bathroom has become horrendously clogged which. well. i mean not to point#fingers but one of us has got about two inches of hair and the other has got a foot and a half. so#i also simply feel that if you clog a drain you should be the one to unclog it but i’ll probably do that as well#sorry for the massive tag rant by the way i really shouldn’t make myself out to be some kind of martyr because i’m not particularly neat#myself but…. ooooh god if the bar isn’t all the way down in hell#anyway i just did a whole bunch of dishes but i left that one skillet to soak passive-aggressively overnight#i don’t think the aggression will come across though because i think he genuinely won’t even pay attention to the fact that it’s still#dirty and i’ll end up being the one to clean it tomorrow#caseyposting
9 notes · View notes
dutybcrne · 8 months
Text
Unless Kaeya is completely comfortable with the person, he would never actively want to have sex with someone facing them nor from the front. The last thing he wants is for them to see/feel him like that, especially if fully undressed
#suggestive#//First sinday hc whoop whoop#hc; kaeya#//The exceptions outside his special few are ones he wants smth out of he knows might get off on his body#//it’s maddeningly dysphoria inducing; esp with some of the things they might say; and always leaves his skin crawling#//But it’s nothing a little booze and pride in getting smth he wanted out of it to can’t help cope#//Not entirely wash away; but at least ease the burn of it a little#//The select few allowed to see him fully are numbered enough to be counted on One hand#//And even then; the whole time through the first few goes with him; he WILL be analyzing each and every reaction and word they say#//What extra non-related info can I fit in here hmm#//Deffo a power bottom; but will happily jump at the chance to peg sb if given the opportunity#//Really likes taking initiative and pleasing his partner; though is okay being used by them from time to time#//He just likes the feeling of being in control of himself and the situation most#//will only willingly give it up; again; for the sake of getting smth he wants out of the other or if he really trusts the other person#not to take things too far. That; or he’s being incredibly self-destructive; but that's a WHOLE other can of worms#//He doesn’t mind if the other person is rough with him or not; so long as he can still have an opening to turn tables he’s fine#//Will let them do whatever; but once he starts reaching his limits & starts poking for ways to fight back?#//If he can’t find one; it Will get ugly#//Has retaliated quite viciously to those who cross lines with him; esp if he knows it was deliberate. Severity varies depending#//Playful competitiveness and attempts to quell him to submission are fine; but if he starts feeling it’s getting a little Too serious#THEN it’s a problem. Has only happened a handful of times; but he’s still wary of it#//Shit what do I tag on that last bit#//Adding to a previous bit; he won't mind taking on a more passive role if his partner wants it; esp if necessary#//Really; most anything goes with him so long as he has an out or two; give him that much and he's good#//He won't mind setting his preferences aside for whatever reason so long as he has that much#//Will still playfully try and tug the reins out of his partner's hands though; can't & won't change that he'll still be a lil shit about i#//That is a MUST. It's so fun to him esp if they get annoyed enough to try and fuck it out of him
6 notes · View notes
bo0zey · 2 years
Text
yeah bpd’s all fun n games until u end up ruining every single one of your closest most treasured friendships because no matter how much u think u love them and want to be their friend forever u still somehow find a way to fuck it all up and såbøtàgè everything for everyone and u did it to urself u hurt them and u pushed them all away and there’s no one else here now there’s a common denominator to it all the only one left to carry all the blame and it’s you because it’s you you you who’s to blame for the pain u spread and the relationships u lost because you pushed away every single person you wished would never let u go
#i never wanted anyone to miss me when i died i never wanted them to care and now i made sure no one ever will#because i’ve shown everyone i’ve ever loved that i’m not worth loving back. i’m worth leaving bc i’m toxic and evil and possessive and loud#i feel so purposeless. like it’s really all hopeless now i’ll never get better. i’m graduating college soon and i have 1 friend#1 friend who has so many others 1 friend who i hurt just like all the others 1 friend who will become 1 less very soon#i lose everyone i’ve ever loved because the closer they get to me the more they realize i’m not someone to get close to#i’m not a good person. i don’t have anything to offer anyone. i only hurt people in the end.#the journey isn’t worth it if the destination is always hell and tsunamis and hurricanes and earthquakes#i’m a walking natural disaster you never know when everything will suddenly turn to shit with me.#u cant appreciate the setting sun when ur buried 6 feet under the dirt. u can’t remember the warmth i gave when i left you with that cold#i’m the worst i’m the worst i can’t believe it’s all my fault i lost so many and they never want to be my friend again#my future is so bleak i’m going to work and die alone at age 27 by the latest and#i’m already thinking abt how no one is invited to my funeral i want to be burned and become a tree i don’t want to be mourned#don’t mourn the loss of someone that needed to be lost. don’t come to my funeral if ones even there#i’ll die alone and i’ll be incinerated alone in death just as i’d done to myself in life only this time no one will be near enough#near enough to get scorched by the flames with me#i want to write letters to the one i hurt the most and tell her how good she is and how i wish i could take back every cruel word i said#u never did anything mean or cruel to me i remember sitting in your freshman year dorm bed with you across from me#when you told me a secret you never told anyone else before . and i remember looking at you and feeling that surge of double sided heat#the heat of hatred for the ones that hurt you and the heat of passion and promise in my body to make sure to always protect you#i will never hurt you i will always make sure you can feel safe with me i’ll be here always when you need me i’ll protect you#i’ll never hurt you . because you’ve been hurt enough. you trusted me enough to tell me abt the thing that haunted u most#and the heat of hatred i felt for the one that hurt you suddenly came hurling back into my face and i#i despise myself even more for forgetting my promise to you that quiet day with the sun setting and your soft blankets & sweet scented room#you said i was your first friend at school and we were already months into the semester#i was scared of you at first but when we got close i wanted so badly for you to consider me as best of a friend as i considered you#i loved you and i hurt you and you told me it didn’t matter but it matters to me you don’t know the promises i made to you#you don’t know which promise i broke. that broken promise haunted me ever since i found out what had happened that night .#i felt guilty for being near you i didn’t understand why you’d sit next to me in my bed so close and watch that show with me i couldn’t#i hated myself for hurting u. i couldn’t be around u without choking on guilt. so i pushed u away to keep u safe. but that only hurt u more.#ramblings
37 notes · View notes
lemonlover1110 · 1 month
Text
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏
Sukuna
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Summary: Your deity calls you to his presence to worship him.
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, two-dick sukuna, bit of a size kink, spitting, oral sex (m. receiving), handjob, biting, gagging, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Tumblr media
“My lord.” You get on your knees, bowing your head in the presence of the deity. You were called to his presence, and you feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest while you’re in his presence. It feels as if his eyes burn into your skin when his gaze falls on you.
There’s a smirk on his face as he looks down arrogantly at you. Arrogance has always been a trait that you’ve looked down upon men, but Sukuna does not fit in with men. He’s anything but a man. He’s a God, a being worthy of praise and worship.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” His deep voice makes your breath catch up in your chest. You hear the amusement in his voice, which brings out a worry from deep within you. You’ve caught glimpses of the deity, a swift motion from him could snap you in half. “Rise.”
You get off your knees, keeping your head lowered. You respect him– You fear him. You were always taught that you couldn’t respect someone without fearing them first, and Sukuna has your utmost respect. You’ve heard the horror stories about him, the fear that he’s caused. The fear that he still causes today; it’s the reason why you stand before him, out of fear and… oddly enough, admiration.
“Lift up your head.” He says, and while you’re confused, you don’t hesitate in doing so. Not following his orders in a manner of seconds could result in much worse. Your eyes slightly widen at the clear sight of him, he’s everything you’ve imagined and more. He’s smirking at you, and you wonder why he suddenly shows interest in you. “Tell me your story.”
“My lord, it’s nothing interesting.” You answer, and your face grows hot as you bite your tongue. You know immediately that’s the wrong answer, yet you can’t bring yourself to immediately apologize. The smirk fades away as a frown overtakes his face.
“I didn’t ask. I gave you an order and you must follow it. Do you not know the rules of this place?” He doesn’t raise his voice like you’ve heard before. 
Sukuna has seen you around, and it’s fair to say that he’s taken a liking to you. You look so soft and so sweet standing to the other servants he keeps around, but it’s not just that… It’s something else about you. He can’t quite put his finger on it.
“I apologize, my lord.” You bow down your head, and when you lift it up, a sigh leaves your lips. He grows impatient, but he knows you’re about to speak, therefore he gives you a couple of seconds to speak. “You wreaked havoc in my old village”
“Out of fear? Is that it?” He sounds disappointed with the answer. He expected more… Yet when he looks at you, there’s this certain spark in your eye, making him lay his head on his fist as a smirk overtakes his face again. That’s not all.
“Not just that, lord. But admiration.” You confess. Admiration… It’s odd to come from you. As pretty as a flower, yet you admire a monster– Though he prefers the word God. “I was married to this man and well… You took care of that problem.”
“Forced marriage?” He questions and you shake your head. It’ll sound like a sob story which makes you hesitant to speak up, but you know you can’t shake your head and not give more details.
“We were in love, until we got married and he decided that he didn’t like me all that much.” You share, and he grows even more interested. “He had several problems between women and drinking, bringing shame upon my name. But then you came along, my lord.”
“Come here.” He orders, and you walk over to him. Once in front of him, your heart races even faster. Your legs feel weak, and you feel like you might pass out right in front of him. He’s even bigger than you imagined. His top right hand grabs your neck, and you almost cry out of fear, but unexpectedly, the hand goes under your chin, and tilts your head up. “Did you bear children?”
“I was unable to fulfill that task, my lord.” You tell him, too ashamed to admit that it’s the reason why your late husband lost all interest in you. That’s all he needs to know, that was the root of your problem. One swift look at you, and he knows you’re not the reason of it, but rather your late husband’s fruitless seed.
“Aren’t you a wicked woman? Worshiping the monster that killed your husband.” He fights back on smiling. He likes that. He finds some sick and twisted pleasure from it. Truthfully, it’s not the worst thing that Sukuna has smiled about. Maybe it’s the worst thing that has made him aroused though.
“I don’t view you as a monster, my lord.” You respond, and he cocks his eyebrow. “You’re a God. No monster could ever compare to you.”
“Hmm… You’re right.” A guttural laugh comes from him. You begin to feel proud at the fact that you’ve made him laugh. He begins to like you more and more by the second.
He licks his lips, looking you up and down. There was a reason he saved you and took you in as a servant. He called you in for a reason, he was going to fuck you even if he found you boring, but luckily for him, you’re even better than what he imagined. He orders, “Worship me like a God then.”
“I’ll do anything you need me to do, my lord.” You respond, and you watch him undo his robes. You expected this the moment you were called by Uraume to show up before him. Either this, or your demise. You’ve heard rumors that Sukuna has taken many lovers– Partners is the most appropriate word, either way, you didn’t expect him to lay his eyes on you. 
“Do what you must.” He tells you, your eyes landing on the two dicks that stack up on each other. You shouldn’t be shocked, but your eyes can’t help but linger on it. You’re curious, yet excited. 
You��re not sure how to proceed at first so you do what you’ve usually done. You spit in your hand before your lips meet his, and Sukuna is taken back by it. Do you not know where your mouth is supposed to go or…? Your tongue moves past his lips and enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hand wraps around his top cock. 
Your hand begins to stroke his cock while your tongue wanders around his mouth. When you pull away, you get on your knees to put his bottom dick in your mouth. Your tongue circles around the tip, getting his precum on your tongue. You look up at the man, the expressions on his face telling you that he’s particularly sensitive. You kiss the tip of his cock before taking in as much as you can in your mouth. 
Sukuna grabs the hand that strokes his cock, and guides it, setting a pace that’s more pleasing for him. He notices just how small you are compared to him, and it fucking drives him wild. Your free hand cups his heavy balls before you begin to massage them. He grabs the back of your head, pulling your mouth away from his bottom dick.
“Top one needs attention too, bitch.” He tells you, and you switch. Your mouth wraps around his top dick while you begin to jerk off the bottom one. It’s a bit overwhelming since it’s so much for you, but you’re enjoying the experience. 
You’re looking up at him, reading his every expression. He looks at you as if you were inferior, someone that’s barely even worthy of his consideration. It’s because you are– Though you can’t read the fact that Sukuna is fighting back from making any noise. 
Sukuna groans as you attempt to take more in your mouth. It’s not all, but it’s enough to bring tears to your eyes from gagging. Sukuna chuckles when he sees the tears that stream down your face as you try your best to bring him the most pleasure you can. What you’re doing is doing wonders, but not for the reason you think. One of his hands goes to the back of your head, and he forces your head to stay. Your eyes look the prettiest when they cry because of him.
“Doing a better job than I expected.” Sukuna says, letting go of your head. You take your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft. You begin to jerk both of his cocks off while you lean up to try and kiss him, but his thumb presses down on your bottom lip before telling you, “Open up.”
You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out which allows him to bring his lips together and spit in your mouth. It’s a gift from him to you, one that you gladly accept. He orders you to swallow, and you do so without a problem. You’re a blind follower to his word. 
You’re about to focus on his cocks again, but he forces you up. He wants more. Something different. He rips the cloth that covers you to pieces, and before you can even properly process it, Sukuna has you sitting on his lap. You squeeze your thighs together, a sudden shyness taking over you. As quickly as you shut them is as fast as he spreads them apart, “Too late for you to be shy now, woman.”
Two of his long fingers run through your slick folds, gathering your wetness. He isn’t all that surprised that you’re already wet, you’re about to be fucked by your God, of course you’re excited. Your slick goes down to your asshole and he begins to tease it. He wants to bury both of his cocks within you, but he knows that it’ll take a little more adjusting. He isn’t completely ruthless, and sometimes has compassion for things he cares about– Not that he cares about you, but he doesn’t want to hurt you either.
Sukuna’s tongue glides from your shoulder to your neck, his bottom set of arms lifting you up. The tip of his cock runs through your folds, and he bites down on your neck when he pushes his cock inside of you. You loudly moan as he fills you up. 
“Is it too much for you? I think you can handle it for your God.” Sukuna says, not giving you a moment to adjust before he begins to bounce you on his cock. He isn’t the type to give out praises, but fuck, you feel so fucking good around him. Almost like a fucking virgin. 
Your nails dig into the supple flesh of his arms, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock hits every right spot. You’re meant to be pleasing him, yet he’s making you feel euphoric. He’s so generous with you, you don’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good.
“Oh, fuck– Sukuna!” You yell out, and he doesn’t recall ever giving you permission to use his name. But it’s pretty when it rolls off your tongue so he’ll allow it to happen just this once. Perhaps if it was someone else the situation would be different, but he’ll be generous with you this one time. 
Two fingers enter your mouth with the sole purpose of shutting you up. His mouth goes to your ear and he scolds you, “Don’t ever fucking use my name without my fucking permission, stupid bitch.”
He bites down your earlobe gently. He’s too much for you to handle. He moves you with his bottom set of arms, one arm has the hand that gags you, and his final arm goes down, two fingers beginning to play with your clit. You didn’t think that sex with a deity would be so… You’re practically out of the world. You feel as if you’ve ascended to heaven.
Sukuna takes his fingers out of your mouth, moving the hand down to stroke the cock that’s being left out. Being nice comes at a cost to his pleasure, and it’s fair to say that the selfish man doubts he’ll be doing it again. 
Your walls begin to tighten around him, your climax quickly approaching. You have never felt so fucking good before, especially not with a man. You know Sukuna can’t be considered a man though. 
“Fuck– I’m gonna–” You begin, and before you can even finish your sentence, you squirt all over him. Sukuna can’t help but chuckle, smacking your cunt as you release the liquid all over him. That’s certainly a first for him, although it’s not surprising since in sex he always cares about receiving and never about giving. 
You keep holding on to him, your sharp nails nearly digging blood from his skin. He’s grunting, his release near. You feel so fucking good around him, better than he expected. He can’t help but tell you, “Next time, I’m putting both of them in.”
The thought is driving you wild, yet you’re already excited even when he isn’t done with you yet. Sukuna loudly groans when he reaches his climax, cum shooting out both of his cocks. He fills your cunt up, while some of his cum goes to waste in the air. He’ll make sure that he’ll completely stuff you next time though.
Sukuna keeps his cock buried inside of you, catching his unregulated breath. He speaks into your ear, “Look at me, being nice to a little bitch and not completely stuffing her. Next time you’ll have to handle both.”
“I’m sorry, lord.” You respond, and he laughs.
“You did a good job.” He can’t help but compliment you since he hasn’t felt this good in a while, and you’re over the moon with his praise. 
“Thank you.” You reply, fighting back the big smile that threatens to come on your face. Sukuna takes his cock out, and he chuckles as he sees that your clothes are shredded to pieces. “I have to–”
“I’ll call a servant for a new robe for you. Nobody can see you naked but me.” He interrupts you. His hand goes under your chin and he tilts your head to look at every side of your face, “Don’t want anyone to look at my wife naked.”
“Huh?” Your eyes widen, caught off guard with his words.
“I’ve decided that you’re going to be my wife.”
4K notes · View notes
pearynice · 3 months
Text
Steve is too drunk. Because he doesn’t get drunk anymore. Not since-
But he’s drunk now. Because he’s sad, and acting pathetic, and thus getting fucking wasted at a high school party for a school he graduated from back in the spring sounded like the thing to do.
Because he’s fucking pitiful.
It’s not Robin’s fault. She’d dragged him here, sure, but he’d assured her- promised her- that he’d be fine. That she should leave with her other friends. Because she deserves to hang out with people who aren’t just him. To have a tiny slice of her life be normal.
He takes another sip of his drink, because he doesn’t want to think about normal, anymore. He just wants to- wants-
He doesn’t know what he wants.
“Harrington?”
Blearily, he looks up, and a guy he vaguely recognizes is standing above him.
Steve hiccups.
“Eddie,” the guy says, pointing to himself. “Doin’ okay?”
Now, Steve remembers him. He does that fantasy game Dustin likes so much. “Munson,” he says, and Eddie grins at him.
“That’s me.”
Steve hiccups again, and takes another sip of his drink.
“Where’d your friend go? The band girl?” Eddie inches closer, his Reeboks now inches from Steve’s fingertips.
Steve gestures vaguely with his beer bottle. He takes another sip, and frowns at the empty bottle. He really doesn’t want to have to go back into the house for another.
He’s still staring at it when Eddie sits next to him. 
“Cigarette?” Eddie offers. “Maybe that’s better than another drink, hm?”
Steve watches him pull out a crumpled pack from his back pocket, shaking out two.
He hands one to Steve.
The cigarettes are kind of smashed, but Eddie lights both of them up, and the smoke clears Steve’s head slightly.
“Thanks.”
Eddie shrugs.
Steve’s hands and mouth feel staticky and disjointed as he pulls the cigarette to his mouth, the effects of the multiple drinks he’s had finally making themselves known. His mouth tastes stale and puffy, and the reality of getting drunk- alone at a high school party- sours in his chest.
He groans, dropping his head into his free hand.
“Oh fuck,” Eddie mumbles, “you’re not- Harrington, if you’re about to puke, man, you gotta let me know, cause I can’t handle that shit.”
Steve, despite his wave of mortification, snorts a laugh. He might be pathetic, but he’s not about to stoop as low as hurling on the back porch. “Not gonna puke.” He promises, lifting his head back up to look out across the back lawn.“I just… can’t understand my own choices, sometimes,” he continues, quiet, chewing on his bottom lip. He takes another drag, his tongue feeling heavy and uncoordinated.
“I mean,” he begins again, exhaling a cloud of smoke and gesturing vaguely to himself, “talk about fucking embarrassing.”
Eddie’s quiet again, and nerves of a different sort begin to eat at him. Steve always shares too much, especially when he’s drunk, loose lips and all that. They’ve never spoken, really, and Eddie has more reason to hate him than most- Steve knows the basketball team was cruel to him, knows Carol and Tommy had to’ve been, too, knows this guy’s sympathy can only stretch so far before Steve snaps it-
“I gotta repeat senior year.” Eddie blurts. He’s looking down at his Reeboks, scuffed and dirty, eyes trained on the glowing embers of his burning cigarette. “Again.”
“Fuck, dude.” Steve exhales, “that sucks.”
Eddie snorts, lips twitching, and his shoulders relax as he leans back on one arm. Steve can see most of a tattoo there, some creepy puppet thing that shifts over his flexing muscle. “Yeah, well, sounds like maybe we’re both fuck-ups.” Eddie blows out a puff of smoke, and Steve watches as he does, his lips shining against the porch light. 
“I don’t think you’re a fuck up.” Steve says, then catches himself. “I mean-” he starts, backpedaling at once, nerves collecting at the base of his skull, “fuck high school. You know?” 
Eddie’s eyes, big and dark, watch him, crinkling slightly at the corners as Steve stutters through his addendum.
“You’ll know the kids I babysit,” Steve adds, a non sequitur that causes Eddie’s eyes to crinkle further. “They do that sci-fi game you run.”
Eddie dips into Steve’s space, his face scrunched in amusement. “Sci-fi game? Are you, Steve Harrington, referring to Dungeons and Dragons?”
For some reason, the way Eddie says it makes Steve flush. “Yes.”
“Steve Harrington.” Eddie says again, and Steve can smell the nicotine in his breath, can see his eyelashes despite the dark, and he knows he should shift away, out of Eddie’s personal space, but Eddie’s eyes are on him. And his shoes are close to Steve’s, and Steve’s still thinking about that creepy tattoo on Eddie’s forearm. He wants to know what it is. What it means.
“Look out for ‘em, okay?” Steve manages, the nagging worry about his little dweebs starting high school cutting through. “They’re, um…” he trails off, unsure. “I think they’ll need it.”
Eddie eyes him again, more considering, now, than humorous. 
“‘Course, Steve.” He agrees, and his tone is soft. “I’ll be their big bad protector.”
It shouldn’t feel as comforting as it does. He doesn’t know Eddie. And what he does know is that he sells a lot worse than weed behind the school, and yet-
And yet Eddie’s smiling at him. Warm and friendly and something like kind- and Steve- Steve thinks he might trust him, anyways. 
“Harrington?”
It’s a different voice that says his name, this time. Steve turns, squinting against the light from the house, and a stone forms in his gut.
Eddie starts, pulling up from his relaxed position to bring his arms to his sides.
“Carver,” Steve greets, with a nod. He takes another drag, hoping his tone reads as dismissive as he intends.
He must miss his mark because Jason comes closer. 
“Am I interrupting?” Jason kicks a black lunchbox by Eddie’s side, not far, but far enough that it’s no longer within Eddie’s reach. “Needed to make sure you’re not ripping off my friend, here, freak.”
Steve’s gut churns. “It’s all good, man.” He’s still trying to sound friendly, doesn’t want to start something, especially not now, five beers deep and in the dark, but Jason’s still staring at Eddie, that wicked smile still on his face. “Eddie’s not ripping me off.”
But Jason takes another step towards the two of them. “Well, it’s always good to take preventative measures, Harrington.” Jason grins, gaze flicking to Steve, and Steve knows that smile. Has seen it far too many times from people like Carver. Like Tommy. The look that’s asking him to join in on the fun.
Steve stands. He feels unsteady, and his head spins, but he doesn’t sway.
Even here, a step below Jason, Steve’s taller than him. “I said we’re good.” He drops his voice, verging on threatening, taking a half step towards Eddie to block as much of Jason’s gaze from him as he can. “Go back to the party.” 
Jason’s eyes find his once again. He narrows them, like he’s assessing just how big of a threat Steve really is. Jason’s shoulders tense. His jaw muscles flex and Steve balls his fists at his sides, ready, ready-
Jason smiles. “Right.” He says, and takes a half step away. His cold smile is directed as Steve, now, and he clicks his tongue. “See you around, Harrington.”
The porch door closes behind him, and Steve exhales. Unclenches his fists. He walks over to Eddie’s lunch box.
“Thanks,” Eddie murmurs, when Steve hands it to him. He’s not looking at Steve, but he’s white-knuckling the box, now, his elbows locked in against his sides.
Steve, a little sloppily, sits back down next to him. “Sorry.” He offers, and Eddie looks back up. 
Steve smiles a little, goes for reassuring, dipping back into Eddie’s space. “He’s always been an ass.”
Eddie’s lips twitch. “Don’t know why you think those kids need me, Steve. Looks like you’re a big bad protector all on your own.” His smile turns tentative. “Even for someone you barely know.”
And Steve- Steve’s never been one to think things through. Not when it comes to feelings and relationships and the giddy feeling he gets in his chest and in his gut when someone he likes smiles at him. He dives in head first without thought to consequences or repercussions or any what ifs- and Eddie’s smiling at him. And there’s pop rocks in Steve’s chest. And he thinks, maybe, there’s pop rocks in Eddie’s chest, too. 
Steve nudges his foot forward. Knocks it against Eddie’s. “Wouldn’t let him mess with you. That’s not-“
Not who I am. Not who I want to be. It’s the person I’m trying so hard to grow out of. 
“-what I’d let happen. Anymore.”
He knows it’s not enough. That standing up to Jason goddamn Carver doesn’t make up for Steve’s lifetime of sitting on the sidelines, of letting people like Eddie- of letting Eddie- get teased and pushed and worse and so much worse, but it’s something. It’s something, and Robin’s always telling him to forgive himself. 
And Steve’s pretty sure he’s not imagining it when he sees a blush on Eddie’s cheeks. Rosy against the yellow light of what’s emanating from inside the house, and he’s definitely not imagining it when he feels Eddie’s foot tap against his.
“You should probably get out of here.” Steve adds, and jerks his head to the house. “Don’t want to give him another opportunity to come back.”
Eddie pulls his foot away. “Right.” He says. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” But Eddie feels tense again, feels like he’s moving much more away than just his shoe. 
“D’you think-” Steve hedges, and he risks sounding more pathetic, because he doesn’t want Eddie to move away, not his shoes or his eyes or his anything else, and Steve was planning on walking, it’s 15 minutes tops, but- “think you could give me a ride? Robin’s friend drove us here.” He crawls his hand forward, just a little. Just enough for Eddie to see. 
Eddie’s eyes flick to his hand. And when he meets Steve’s gaze again he’s smiling, a little, his eyes crinkling. “Sure, Stevie.”
✨✨✨
Truly- I don't know what this is? Let me know if it's worth a part 2!
Part 2
3K notes · View notes
avis-writeshq · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
01 — better than revenge
summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 
You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”
“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 
Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”
Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”
A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 
“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”
Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”
Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”
“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”
“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”
You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”
“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”
Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 
“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”
“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 
“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 
“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.
Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”
“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”
“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 
“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.
“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”
Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”
***
“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 
“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”
You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”
“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.
“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.
“Type Four?” 
Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”
“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”
“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 
Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”
Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”
“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 
“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 
“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”
He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s��”
“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.
You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”
“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”
“Lila?”
A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 
“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”
She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”
“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”
“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.
“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.
“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.
You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”
Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”
“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”
He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 
“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 
You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”
“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”
You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”
She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”
Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”
She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”
“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”
She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”
You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”
She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”
“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”
A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 
“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”
She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”
Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”
“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”
You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”
“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”
“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”
Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”
“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”
You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.
“What the…”
“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 
You gape at his words. “What are you–”
He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 
“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 
“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”
“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”
“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”
Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”
You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”
Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”
***
Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 
The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.
“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.
You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.
You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”
Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”
One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”
He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”
“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 
Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 
“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”
“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”
A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”
“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”
He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”
“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”
He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”
You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 
Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”
Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 
“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”
He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 
“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 
You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.
“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.
A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.
“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 
“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.
Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.
***
The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 
Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.
“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.
“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.
“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.
Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”
“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”
You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”
Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”
Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.
“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.
Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 
“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”
“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.
Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”
“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”
You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”
“She called and asked for me.” 
You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”
The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 
“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.
An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”
“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.
“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.
Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”
“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”
He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.
His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”
He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.
“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.
The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”
His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.
“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.
“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.
Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“
“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”
“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”
You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”
“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”
“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”
She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.
“(Y/N), are you–”
“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”
At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”
“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”
“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”
You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”
Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”
The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.
Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.
“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.
The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 
“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.
You shrug. “I will be.”
“Is it to do with Reid?” 
You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”
Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”
“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.
“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“
“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 
Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.
“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”
The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.
“Hello?” 
“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.
She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”
You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.
“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.
“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.
You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”
In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 
“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”
A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”
“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.
The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”
You blink. “You know this guy?”
“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 
“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”
After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 
“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.
“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice
Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.
“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”
Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”
“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.
“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 
“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.
Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”
Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”
You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 
“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”
As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 
“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”
You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.
“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 
You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.
“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.
He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”
“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”
Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”
“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 
“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.
You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”
“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”
Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 
“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”
If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.
Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 
“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 
“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”
“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 
Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 
After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 
You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 
Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 
He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”
Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”
“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 
“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”
“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 
“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”
“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”
Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”
Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”
“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”
He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”
“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”
His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”
“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 
Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 
“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?
“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 
“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”
“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.
The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”
“What?”
“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’
Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 
“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 
“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 
“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.
Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 
“Elle?”
“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 
“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”
“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”
He sighs, “(Y/N)–”
“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.
“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”
You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”
“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”
“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”
“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.
Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”
“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”
“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”
Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 
“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.
“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 
You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”
He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”
“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”
His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”
“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”
“Stop calling me that.”
“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”
He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”
“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”
“(Y/N).”
“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”
He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.
“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“Who’s blood is that?”
“Detective Kim’s.”
“What– were you shot at?” 
His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 
“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 
“Don’t say that.”
“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 
He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.
He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 
“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”
*** 
“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”
“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”
You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”
Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”
“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”
“You think she could be the UnSub?”
“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”
The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”
“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.
“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”
“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”
“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”
There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”
“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 
With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 
“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 
You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 
“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”
“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”
Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”
You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”
Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 
Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”
“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”
*** 
“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 
It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 
“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”
Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”
“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”
He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 
You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 
The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 
Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 
“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.
His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”
“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”
He huffs out a laugh. “What?”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”
You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 
He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”
He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”
He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”
Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”
You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”
“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”
“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”
“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”
He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”
Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”
He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”
“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 
He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”
“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”
“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”
“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 
“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”
“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”
“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 
You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”
He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”
“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 
He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”
“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”
You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 
“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 
“I know.”
“I really am sorry.”
“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”
You laugh again and he smiles. 
“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”
His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”
You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”
The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 
Tumblr media
next part →
full work
Tumblr media
reblogs are always appreciated!
4K notes · View notes
helluvapoison · 2 months
Note
Saw your preening hcs!!! They're so cute, I love the way you write!!!
How about the same characters helping a reader preen their wings? That would be so awesome :3333
Lend A Helping Hand
Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk help reader with preening
warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not
[i]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Seeing you uncomfortable physically hurts him, he has a knee jerk reaction to clutch his heart
• Lucifer’s preemptive when it comes to you, checking your wings around the same time he feels his wings molt
• Dramatically smacks a hand to his forehead, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice! Shit! Oh, duckie, I’m so sorry.”
• Praises you the whole way through, like you’re undergoing a dangerous surgery while wide awake
• Obscenely gentle when handling your wings
• You’ll receive only the utmost care from him!
• That being said, he gets distracted towards the end. Petting your feathers, admiring their color
• “You’re so prett—pretty feathers! You have pretty feathers! Aha.” Lucifer’s nervous chuckle fades as he focuses once more
• He’s more than thorough, quadruple checking his work and asking if you feel better yet
• (Tell him he did a good— no, a great job)
• “A thousand times better, thank you,”
• “Just a thousand?” Lucifer grins cheekily
• “Alright, alright, a million. And here I was worried you’d get a big head over it.”
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• “Sucks, amiright?” His voice lacks any sympathy.
You’re sure if you looked, he’d be wearing that punchable smirk
“Go. Away.”
“Yikes, tense much?”
Normally you had more patience than this. Today you were in no mood, whipping around and shooting him a deadly glare
“Adam!”
• Surrendering his hands, Adam turns and leaves, swearing that would be the end of it until your bitchiness subsided
• It’s not like it bothers him to see your nose scrunch in pain or dragging your hands down your face in irritation
• He blames you for turning him into a liar
• “If you make it weird—!”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll hit me or something. Try being original next time. Now shut up so I can help you. Fuck, you’re just as bad as Lute.”
• Adam is eerily silent. In the mirror you can see his tongue poking out in concentration
• He’s uncharacteristically soft when handling your feathers
• “There,” He dusts his hands together, “Now you can’t say Adam never did nothin’ for you.”
• Fucking flabbergasted when you thank him. Outloud. Oh, you’re never living this down
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Treats the matter like an inconvenience, a chore that just has to be done
• “If I don’t help you, we’ll never get back on schedule,” Lute’s tone leaves no room for arguments
• Her hands shoving into your shoulders and forcing you to sit before her
• Despite this, her touch alone is mercy on your wings
• You didn’t know she knew the meaning of the word gentle until now
• Lute is diligent in all she does
• For the briefest, most minuscule of moments she thinks she has a grasp on sin. As innocent as it is, she’s not supposed to be helping you
• She won’t let you ruin her reputation
• She doesn’t dare let her fingertips linger on your feathers (no matter how loudly they sing to her)
• Lute acts as if you’ve burned her when she’s done
• “Thank—“ She’s already storming away, cheeks glowing red. From anger, embarrassment or other, you’ll not find out today, “—you.”
˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Honestly, she wasn’t going to offer at first
• Vaggie would prefer to forget about her time in Heaven altogether and helping you with your wings proves triggering, though not so terrible she can’t
• Not when the need to help outweighs her guilt
• You look so damn pitiful!
• “Here, hold still,” Vaggie sighs softly as she approaches
• She waits for you to go relax and accept the offer hanging in the air before touching your wings
• Vaggie’s touch is sweet and hesitant, almost treating your feathers like you’re made of porcelain
• “You ok?” She asks as she twists her fingers around the hardened shell, breaking the pin feather
• You smile at her over your shoulder, “Yeah. You’re much better at this than me.”
• Vaggie breathes out a light laugh, “I’ve had more practice. It’s… easier with someone else too, I guess.”
• Significantly less nervous when she’s done
•Next time, she’ll definitely offer her assistance sooner
˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• He startles you, making you jump when you thought you were alone
• Husk, although he’ll deny it to his double death, made it his job to pay attention to people he cares about
• Watching you walk around uncomfortable, teetering the edge of all too familiar pain was hard to ignore
• “I know those things can be a real bitch.” He points with the bottle he’s holding
• “Are you trying to be sympathetic or stating a fact?”
• “I’ve been around the block a few times,” Husk shrugs, “And I might be offering my services if you need ‘em. Not just good for listening.”
• He almost regrets it when you immediately accept. He looks at his claws, tainted by alcohol and who knows what else, then your wings
• Washes his hands before. Which strikes you as odd because you’ve seen him use a dirty rag to clean glasses at the bar
• He might be qualified but surely you have someone more deserving willing to help you? Someome nicer, someone cleaner, someone better than him?
• Husk isn’t complaining! It’s just his inner thoughts making his hands tremble
• “I owe you a drink for this,” You say sweetly
• Husk hums out a laugh, “Nah. It’s my pleasure,”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thank you so mochi, friend! i’m glad you liked them, you read my mind too and gave me an excuse to write these hehe
2K notes · View notes
kentofic · 20 days
Text
Eyes on me - Nanami Kento x f!reader
absolute pwp 18+ MDNI — cw: dry humping, oral, overstimulation, praise, throat fucking, a needy brat of a reader, and just all around self-indulgent filth
Tumblr media
Fuck the euphemisms and the beating around the bush. You’re horny. You’ve been clenching your thighs all day at work. You’ve been indulging in dirty daydreams that always end in you bent over a desk. You’ve been doing kegels just to feel something.
But Kento is holed up in his office, ignoring you.
You pace back and forth in front of the door to his home office. You figure you should leave him be. He already hates overtime, and he’s probably in a rotten mood. But you’ve had such a long day, and you’re so wound up now, you won’t get through even the coldest shower without breaking and touching yourself. And to be fair, you’re usually fine with touching yourself. But right now, you need to be touched by him.
“I can hear you clomping around out there.”
You stop in your tracks, grimacing. You hear Kento sigh before he says, “You can come in.”
You open the door a sliver and peek in to see Kento with his head propped up in one hand, the other poised over a pile of documents. Still working, as you thought. And a full hour past quitting time, which explains why his brow is pinched with annoyance.
“What do you need, sweetheart?” he asks, eyes locked on yours.
“I was, uh…lonely. Just wanted to see you,” you grin sheepishly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. He says nothing for a moment, just looks you over with those sharp, observant eyes. Those eyes that burn through you, pooling molten warmth in your gut. You fidget under the weight of his gaze and squeeze your thighs together, trying not to look as desperate as you feel.
“Hmm,” Kento murmurs, sitting back in his chair with a wry smile. “Lonely isn’t the word I would use.”
You stiffen, crossing your arms over your chest. He’s right, but hey. “Well, what word would you use then?” you huff, bottom lip poked out in a pout. He smirks.
“Needy.”
You splutter for a moment, caught. You try to explain it away, tripping over your words, while Kento observes you with an amused smile.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he interrupts you once he’s had his fill of your stammering, eyes glittering with mirth. He pats his thighs, his slacks stretched deliciously taut over the thick muscle. “Come here.”
Your heart swells, embarrassment forgotten. You rush over with the intent of clambering into his lap. He stops you for a moment, holding you at arm’s length as he smooths your hair out of your face. You’re so pent up that even that innocent action makes you want to whimper. But his smile has tempered back to a serious expression, so you bite back your desperation and try to show him you’re listening.
“I need to get these papers sorted tonight,” he says. You frown, and he sighs. “I know, I don’t want to do them either, but they need to get done. It shouldn’t take long. If you can be good and occupy yourself until I’m finished, then…”
He trails off for a moment, grazing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your nerves buzz at the short, tender contact. “Then I’ll take care of you. Understood?”
Heat unfurls at the base of your stomach. “Understood,” you salute, overeager. He chuckles.
Kento leans back to make room for you. You settle yourself in his lap, facing him, hooking your legs over his hips and pressing yourself to his broad, warm chest. He’s so tall, it’s easy enough for him to hook his head over your shoulder and keep working. You press your face into his shoulder and breathe in the fresh, familiar scent of his aftershave. You should feel calm, content, like you often do when he holds you like this. Instead you just feel even more hot and bothered, and you can’t help but want to fidget and find some friction against him.
Kento said to be good. But he also said you could occupy yourself. And then he let you climb onto his lap. So, really, hasn’t he given you permission to occupy yourself… using his lap?
A little rub wouldn’t hurt, you reason. It might help ease the sharp burn of desire between your legs—reduce the tension that has you all strung out. He already knows that you’re all worked up. You’re just taking care of yourself until he can do it for you. Yeah, you think, a little rubbing would be fine.
You shuffle your hips against him experimentally, holding your breath for a reaction. Kento does shut down your bratty antics from time to time. But he doesn’t stir, doesn’t chide you, just keeps scratching away at whatever documents he’s tending to. You shift your hips down again, more deliberately—it can’t be mistaken for repositioning. Still, he says nothing. So you shift forward again, and this time you fully grind down with the pressure you need. The friction is delicious, and a little moan bubbles up from your throat.
You feel Kento’s hand come up to grasp the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing against the sensitive spot under your ear. You freeze, a pleasant shiver running through you. He hasn’t scolded you, but his gentle grip on your neck makes you feel like he wants you to ask.
“Kento,” you mumble into his shoulder, “…Is this okay?”
“Is what okay, my love?” he replies, seemingly indifferent—as if his warm hand isn’t smoothing down the length of your back before stopping to grasp at the soft flesh of your hip. You let out a shaky breath as you shudder.
“…R-Rubbing myself on you? While I wait,” you say in a soft rush of air. You press your face into his neck, cheeks prickling with warmth.
Kento lets out a slow, measured exhale and squeezes your hip. He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling and so obviously pleased.
“Do as you like, sweetheart.”
You hear him pick up his pen again, but his non dominant hand keeps a firm grip on your hip. You feel his promise to take care of you seared into you with each pad of his fingers.
You start grinding down on him again, building a rhythm. It feels so good— the pressure and friction and warmth of him against you, even through layers of fabric. You feel him start to harden beneath you, and you smile to yourself. Even if his mind is occupied with silly paperwork, Kento’s body belongs to you and only you.
A wicked little idea starts to take form in your mind.
You let soft, deliberate sounds of pleasure spill from your lips as you grind into Kento’s steadily growing erection. You pant as you rock against him, fanning warm breath across his neck with each exhale, your lips just barely brushing his skin. You relish in how your usually unflappable lover stiffens, your soft lips and sweet little sounds curling a shudder down his spine. You don’t push it too far—you agreed to be good after all. But you dance up to the line, feeling equal parts giddy and greedy.
Emboldened by Kento’s small reactions, you slowly swirl your hips the way you know he loves, and you let out a breathy sigh of his name. You feel the muscles of his neck tense, and he clears his throat. You think he might finally chide you, but he doesn’t. Wordlessly, he reaches between you to readjust his cock so it isn’t pinned to the side as it strains against his slacks. He aligns it vertically, his flushed tip peeking out from his waistband. You grin widely, having won your prize. You’re not the only one who’s needy now.
You press down against him, rutting your clothed cunt against the underside of his cock. His breath hitches as the soft material of your shorts catches against his sensitive tip, and you know soon it’ll be smeared with precum. You rock against him with a fervor now, trying to shift your hips at a better angle each time, pitching your pelvis forward to try and catch more of your clit on each down and upward motion. Trying to get more of that delicious friction that’s pooling wetness in your panties. But even as you pant softly into his shoulder and work yourself against him, you know it won’t be enough.
It’s all Kento’s fault. Before you met him, an orgasm was a simple delight that your own fingers could give you with ease. But now your body knows him. It knows how he feels pressed deep into you, snug against your cervix, filling you up completely. It knows the true depths of pleasure that you’re capable of feeling only when he’s inside you. Even if he hasn’t left any lasting marks, Kento has engraved himself into your body.
You need him to fill you. And right now, you’re warm and wet, but so empty.
You whimper, rocking yourself faster, more desperately. It feels good—really good—but the more you try to chase that goodness to an orgasm, the quicker it seems to slip away. You’re riding a wave that refuses to crest and crash down—it just undulates over and over. You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on that small flame inside you, trying to get it to burn just a little bit brighter.
Then all of a sudden, Kento’s other hand is sinking into your hip and he’s griiinding up into you with so much pressure that you gasp.
“Not enough, is it?” Kento says, his voice husky and strained.
You let out a sound halfway between a whimper and a sigh of relief. “Not enough. I need you,” you pant, your hips still bucking against his—chasing the heat of his reciprocating friction.
Without warning, Kento stands up, and you squeal as you lose balance on his lap. You lock your legs around his waist and throw your arms around his shoulders to avoid falling. He uses one arm to hold you up, and with the other hand he neatly gathers and tucks his documents into a drawer. With a soft grunt, he sits you down on his cleared desk.
You start to release your koala-like hold on him, only for him to pull you into a searing kiss that has you scrabbling at the nape of his neck for purchase. His tongue licks into your mouth with a force and precision that makes you moan. You kiss him back in earnest, your legs still locked around his waist, drawing him in as close as you can.
You both part, panting. Kento caresses your cheek with his thumb as he looks at you with those dark, lust-glazed eyes that say without words that he intends to devour you. Then he places a hand in the center of your chest and gently pushes you down on your back. You stare up at the light fixture, dizzied, as he lifts your legs from around his waist and scoots you further back onto the desk.
You gasp when you feel him lift your hips and remove your shorts and panties in a single, sharp tug. You’re bare to him now—the cool air making your wet folds feel icy cold. But only for a moment. Because then he presses that searing hot tongue to your core and oh. You can’t help but arch up into the sensation as the flat of his tongue slides through your folds, lapping up the mess you’ve made while waiting for him.
“Sweetheart.” You feel the affectionate name rumble against your sensitive folds. “You’re dripping. All this for me?”
“Y-yes—fuck, Kento,” you whimper as he dives in again, working his tongue into your sopping entrance before slowly licking back up to your clit. “I couldn’t wait—I need you, Kento, please—“
You’re cut off by your own moan as he seals his lips around your clit and sucks. Your hips lift off the desk to meet the hot, wet suction as best you can. He lets you press yourself into his mouth, sucking hungrily at the sensitive nub until your thighs are trembling. Then he releases your clit with a wet sound, and he works back into your soaking folds to taste you again, groaning softly as he slurps and swallows down your arousal.
That small flame you were chasing while grinding against him is now building into an all-consuming fire. You can feel the pulse of it deep in you as the sensation mounts, stronger and hotter. The pleasure Kento gives you is so intense and sudden after hours of restraining yourself, you feel your body starting to run away with the feeling—a freight train gaining speed, out of your control. You’re going to come if he doesn’t stop, and this isn’t how you want it, even as good as it is.
“Kento, gonna come,” you gasp out, clawing at the smooth surface of his desk. “Don’ wanna come—stop, stop, I don’t want to come yet—“
Kento lifts his mouth from you the moment you say stop, but he doesnt remove his face from between your legs. He peers up at you from there with those sharp eyes, half-lidded and dark. The visual alone could send you over the edge if you weren’t desperately trying to stave off your own orgasm.
“And why don’t you want to come yet?” he asks with suspicion—seemingly resentful that you pulled him away from such a delicious meal.
You swallow, trying to catch your breath. You know what you want, and embarrassment aside, you’re determined to have it.
“Wanna come on your cock,” you say softly.
It’s not just dirty talk, or a move to play up his ego. You need it. You’ve needed it all day—to come undone with him splitting you open, filling every inch of you.
The moment you make your request, Kento’s expression shifts, and for a second, your desperate desire is mirrored on his face. Then in a quick succession of motions, he’s standing up, undoing his belt, pulling his cock out of his pants, and yanking your hips towards him with such sharpness that you yelp.
“You’re so good, you know that?” he murmurs as he leans over you, one hand aligning his cock with your entrance. He cups your face, tilting it so you look into his eyes as he presses the blunt head against your opening. You whimper at the beginning of the stretch.
“So fucking good for me. So perfect,” he rasps, his eyes burning. “Asking for what you want like a good girl. You want to come on my cock? Then go ahead and come, sweetheart.”
He slams into you in one precise thrust that has you squealing at the sudden, blinding-hot stretch of it—the press of it into the deepest parts of you all at once. Even if you’ve had it a thousand times before, the way he fills you still hits you like a boulder. He thrusts once, twice, three times, each devastatingly deep, and you’re gasping for air as if he’s fucked all the breath out of you.
This. This is exactly what you needed. To be taken apart by him in the way only he can. You can’t contain the blaze that’s been built by your dry humping, and the wet heat of his tongue, and him, just him—the man that drives you wild just by sitting there and doing paperwork. Kento holds your gaze as he fucks into you, looking at you like you’re a treasure, like he wants to eat you alive, so utterly devoted that it makes your heart swell, and it’s too much. It’s all too much, in the very best way.
Everything locks down and the heat explodes. You cry out his name when you come, your body shuddering and writhing with the force of it. Kento stills his hips and lets you pulse and clench around him as it works, and you swear you only ever want to come with him inside of you—the fullness radiating pleasure into the deepest parts of you.
When you finally come down from your high, you’re still trembling, and Kento is smoothing your hair out of your face as he studies you. His expression is soft but dark in an indecipherable way.
When your lucid eyes find his, he asks, “Did that feel good, sweetheart?”
You nod weakly, and you feel his cock jump a little inside you. He smiles softly, tracing his thumb over the apple of your cheek.
“Mm, that’s good, love. Now give me another.”
Before you can process it, before you can open your mouth to protest, he’s drawing out of you and plunging back in with full force, and you scream.
Your brain and body are already fried from your first orgasm, haven’t had time to recalibrate—and he wants another. And he seems determined to take it from you.
Kento sets an unforgiving rhythm, pounding into you with deep precision, bottoming out every time he rolls his hips into yours. Every drag of his girth against your walls feels like it sprays off sparks of electricity, and you can’t help but try to curl back from him, trying to escape the intensity of the feeling. Your recoiling is met with a firm grip on your neck—not enough to truly choke you, but enough to keep you from scrambling away.
“No running,” he says in a warning tone, snapping his hips forward with each deep thrust, never slowing his pace.
“‘s too much,” you slur out. You’re trying not to run, you’re trying your best to take it, but it’s so hard when every stroke feels so white hot.
“You can take it, sweetheart. Give me another, I know you can,” Kento coos—and you want to. There’s nothing you want more than to give Kento whatever he asks for, especially when he’s sweating and flushed and looking so in love as he thrusts into you.
“I’m trying, ‘m tryin’” you whine, hot tears starting to prickle in your eyes at the overstimulation.
“It’s okay, love, just let go. Let go and give me another,” Kento says, more softly now, moving his hand from your neck to cradle the side of your head. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he works deep in you. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”
You shake your head, bottom lip trembling as the tears spill down your cheeks. “I wan’ to, I want to—but I can’t.”
“You can, and you will. You’re going to right now, love, I can feel it,” he says lowly, and oh. Oh. Oh fuck. He’s right.
Your body’s feedback to your brain must be delayed, because you don’t even feel your peak building until it’s suddenly there—looming over you, drawing your whole body up taut before crashing down like a tsunami. Your second orgasm blazes through you in an instant, and you let out a strangled cry as it takes you by surprise.
“Good girl, there it is,” Kento soothes as you writhe and sob through it. He finally slows his pace as you shudder and whimper and grab at his shirt to keep yourself grounded—trying to keep yourself from completely falling apart.
You lose focus of his face for a moment—your eyes must roll back, because you hear him say “Eyes on me, love” in that low, smooth voice of his. With some effort, Kento swims back into your vision—his expression a portrait of lust and reverence. If you weren’t in the throes of such miserable pleasure, you might notice how his hands are starting to shake, how his jaw is clenched, how his hips stutter as he slowly, slowly strokes in and out of you now—on the edge of losing control.
You gradually come down from your peak until you’re back on solid ground. You blink up at Kento, dazed, your head resting heavy against the hard wood of his desk. You devour the sight of him above you. He’s panting softly, a few strands loose from his usual slicked-back hair and now hanging into his eyes. His tie is loose and his dress shirt is rumpled from where you gripped it. An unkempt, sex-mussed Kento—the sight makes you throb, and you wonder how your body can still respond to him after coming twice.
At least his hips are still now, which is a small mercy for your blindingly sensitive cunt. You gaze up at him, eyes soft, as he wipes the tears from your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. You turn your head to catch his thumb in your mouth and suck it, and he lets out a low groan.
“Don’t do that unless you’re ready to give me one more, sweet girl,” he warns.
You promptly release the digit, which makes him laugh. He presses his thumb back between your lips and watches lovingly as you lave over it with your tongue then release it with a final, wet kiss. He can’t help but shudder a little, and you notice.
“Are you close?” you ask softly, and he nods.
“Don’t know if I can hold back. I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, looking a little pained. You can see now the visible signs of his restraint, and it warms your heart that he’s worried about you. Even when he takes you beyond your limits, he’d never push you to the point of breaking.
“I don’t know if my pussy can take any more right now,” you admit, your thighs still trembling. “…But if you want, you can fuck my mouth,” you grin, your mouth watering at the thought.
Kento’s eyes widen, then darken, and a soft groan slips from his lips as he surges forward to kiss you.
“You dirty little thing,” he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing over it with his tongue. “So good for me. Get on your knees.”
You scramble to comply, and Kento helps lever you up and off the desk so you can kneel at his feet. He grabs a cushion from his chair and leans down to slip it under your knees, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he draws back to his full height. Your heart brims with affection at the simple sweetness of the action.
You look up at him with wide, adoring eyes, and press soft kisses to his thigh that make him shudder. His cock is hard and heavy between his legs, flushed and shining with your own wetness. You grab the base, testing the girth in your hands, and Kento lets out a soft, strangled sound.
“You really are close, huh?” you giggle, licking a stripe from base to tip, tasting yourself on his hot flesh.
He grits out a moan, squeezing his eyes shut as you take his swollen tip between your lips. You suck on him gently, circling your tongue around the head, and you feel him throb on your tongue in response. Kento’s hand finds its place in your hair, gripping firmly as he slowly rocks into your mouth. You open your jaw further and meet his shallow thrusts with eager bobs of your head, sucking greedily around him.
You love taking Kento in your mouth, if for no other reason than to drink in his reactions. The soft grunts and pants and groans you pull from him make you preen. You watch him through your eyelashes—the way his brow is knitted, his jaw slack and bottom lip trembling with restrained pleasure. You do your best to burn the image into your mind. Though there is one part of this gorgeous vision that could be improved. You pull off his cock with a wet sound and rest his throbbing shaft on your cheek as you squeeze the base with one hand.
“Eyes on me, Ken,” you grin, parroting his earlier words. The irony isn’t lost on Kento, who lets out a sound between a scoff and a chuckle. He dutifully opens his eyes and peeks down at you, his pupils blown wide with lust. When his eyes meet yours, he groans and turns his head away, his cock twitching against your cheek.
“I really won’t last if I look at you, sweetheart,” he says, his voice breaking with the effort to restrain himself.
“I don’t care if you last. I want to taste you already,” you grin. He huffs out a shaky breath as you rub his tip against your slick, swollen lips. “Fuck my mouth, Kento. I want you to come down my throat,” you urge him, your eyes burning into his.
His breath hitches, and you feel his hand tighten its grip in your hair. “…I can’t be gentle,” he warns you, eyes flaring and voice tight.
“Then don’t be,” you hum, smiling before kissing the tip of his cock. Kento’s hips twitch, and he groans.
“Fuck. I am going to ruin you,” he murmurs, cupping your jaw and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “If you can’t take it, slap my leg. If you don’t, I won’t stop.”
A thrill runs through you, and you feel your pulse throb through your cunt. You nod, dizzied and giddy with the promise of Kento using your throat.
You slacken your jaw and place his tip on your tongue, then look up at him with expectant eyes—waiting for him to set the pace. He hisses a breath out through his teeth as he readjusts his grip in your hair—then he plunges his cock into the waiting heat of your throat.
You gag at the intrusion, but you do your best to open your throat, even as your body jerks as you choke around him. He sets an unforgiving pace, stuffing his cock down your tight, wet throat as you try diligently to take him—fresh tears burning in your eyes from the effort.
He moans as you take everything he gives you, his gaze fixed on the way your lips stretch around him—a slick mess of spit and precum clinging to his shaft and dripping down your chin as he fucks into your mouth. Tears are streaming down your cheeks now, but you don’t tap out—you just dig your fingers into Kento’s thighs, deliriously happy to choke around him if it’s for his pleasure.
“Fuck—sweetheart, you’re so fucking perfect—taking me so well, choking on me—gonna make me f-fucking come—“
Mindless praise spills from Kento’s lips like a prayer as he rocks into the wet heat of your mouth, his pleasure threatening to surge up and over the edge. You can sense how close he is now, and the thrill of it has your aching cunt throbbing again. Kento watches in amazement as you slither your hand between your thighs, rubbing haphazard circles around your clit as you gag on his cock.
You force your eyes open, tears clinging to your lashes as you look up at Kento, desperately wanting to see how he looks right now, so close to coming. You expect him to have his eyes squeezed shut with impending bliss, but you find he’s staring at you, mouth agape, gaze reverent and drunk from pleasure. And the moment your glassy, tear-filled eyes lock with his, he’s gone.
Kento comes with a choked sound, snapping a final deep thrust into your throat before stilling as his hot cum spurts down your throat.
You do your best to swallow it, but you can’t take it all. You pull off with a wet gasp, coughing and spluttering as you try not to choke on the cum coating your mouth and throat. Kento shudders through the aftershocks of his orgasm, transfixed by the sight of you gasping for air, thick strings of saliva and cum running down your chin and connecting your mouth to his cock. That heady mixture of spit and cum drips and splatters on your shirt, your thighs, the floor, as you cough and catch your breath.
Mind still hazy with pleasure, Kento fumbles around to help you. He digs through his drawers and finds a handkerchief. He kneels down, cups your jaw, and begins to wipe your wet mouth and chin. He cleans your face gently, dazed and murmuring praises—before you cut him off with a whine.
“‘M sorry, Kento,” you whimper, looking genuinely disappointed.
“For what, love? You were perfect,” he soothes, confusion knitting his brow. You meet his gaze with a frown.
“I wasted your cum. I really wanted to drink it,” you say glumly, staring at the mess of cum staining your shirt and your thighs.
A beat passes as Kento stares at you with amazement, then he huffs out an incredulous laugh. He pulls you to his chest, shaking with mirth, as he smooths a hand down your back. You melt into him, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s alright. There’s more where that came from.”
You feel his wet, spent cock stir against your thigh.
———
a/n: the first time i had multiple orgasms i thought i was gonna die. idk how you guys are surviving 3+ back to back 😭 anyways I’ve looked at this way too long—please take it away from me 💀
2K notes · View notes
verstappen-cult · 11 days
Text
# WAVE OF YOU | CL16
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Charles is spending summer in Australia with his friends when he meets a very pretty girl and her dog at the beach.
Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader Content Warnings: A little meet-cute, just pure fluff! And Pierre being a menace for like a second.
Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬 : i saw the video and an idea popped into my mind, you can’t blame me for being weak. this is just a little silly meet-cute because your girl can’t stop thinking about surfer!charles. save me surfer!charles, save me !! i’m thinking about turning this into a series, would you like that?
Tumblr media
You never thought you’d be living in Australia in your twenties. You honestly never thought about leaving your hometown to follow your dreams. Yet, here you are, sitting on the sand on a quiet morning, playing with the golden retriever you adopted two weeks ago. She comes running back to you, leaving the tennis ball at your feet and sitting, patiently waiting for you to throw the ball again. 
“You never get tired, uh?” She tilts her head, tongue out and breathing heavily. You throw the ball into the water and she immediately runs back for it. 
You take the opportunity to look around. It’s still a little early so there aren’t many people, a few people walking their dogs or running, a few surfers and a group of girls a few meters away. You notice that they can’t stop looking at the group of boys in the water trying to catch waves. It’s funny, because you used to be exactly like them when you were a teen. 
They’re talking and — despite knowing you shouldn’t — you pay close attention to what they’re saying. 
“Last week he smiled at me, I swear!” One of them says, twirling her hair while still straight ahead. 
“They’re so hot.” You try not to laugh, hiding a smile by turning your head around. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen the group of boys, but it is the first time that you pay attention to what people actually say about them, and that makes you a little bit curious. 
There are five guys in the water, two of them are sitting on their surfboard talking while the other two chase waves. You notice that the fifth guy is actually getting out of the water, blue surfboard under his right arm as he looks at the dog looking up at him and wagging its tail. Your dog. 
“Daisy!” You call her but she doesn’t move, she just looks at you from her spot next to the man. You get up and start walking towards her when the stranger looks up at you. And you stop breathing for a second, face turning pink as you feel bright, green eyes boring into you. 
You agree with the teenage girls about them being hot because this man is definitely very attractive. He’s wearing a black wetsuit, you notice as he runs his hand through his messy, wet, brown hair. He’s also smiling. At you. 
He crouches to unhook the surfboard’s leash from his ankle, leaving it aside, and pets Daisy behind her ears. She closes her eyes and moves closer to the stranger. Your heart skips a beat when he looks up at you again, still smiling. 
“Hey, Daisy? You wanna play?” He has an accent that makes you weak in the knees. The stranger takes Daisy’s ball from between her paws and throws it a few meters away, and she immediately runs back for it. “She’s cute.” You’re very cute, he thinks.
You smile because you don’t know what else to do, still very much feeling frozen in place. 
“I’m Charles, nice to meet you.” The stranger—Charles reaches out a hand, you look at it for a beat before taking it gently to shake. If you feel sparks flying, nobody needs to know that. 
You swallow, trying to find your voice before the cute guy thinks you’re weird. “I’m Y/N and,” You feel Daisy’s nose nudging at your leg. “this is Daisy.” You say, looking down at her.
Charles crouches back down to take the ball again, this time not breaking eye contact, and throws it into the water. You feel yourself blushing — again !! — under his intense gaze. You also feel your insides burning and going crazy with butterflies. You curse under your breath because what is wrong with you? 
“You come here often?” He cringes after saying that and you’re pretty sure you see a faint blush adorning his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you before.” 
“Oh, I adopted her two weeks ago, so we're pretty new to the beach.” You explain, looking over his shoulder at your little golden playing in the water. You’re gonna have one hell of a time trying to get rid of the salt water and sand of her hair. 
He smiles again and what the hell? He has dimples? 
“You’re not from here, right? I can hear a little accent…” He blurts out, massaging his neck in a nervous manner. 
“I just moved here a few months ago.” You laugh, fidgeting with your fingers. “I can say the same thing about you.”
The guy chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m from Monaco. I’m visiting a friend for the summer.”
“Oh, that’s cool!” When Daisy comes running back, you’re quick to pick up the ball — to have something to do besides looking at his pretty green eyes — and throw it farther just because it’s good that she’s running and having fun, definitely not because you want to keep talking with Charles. 
“What brought you to Australia?” Charles asks, like he's genuinely interested. 
“It’s silly, really.” You break eye contact after what feels like an eternity looking into his eyes. “I just wanted to see more of the world. I’ve been traveling for the past two years but I feel like it’s time to settle down somewhere.” Charles nods along, listening to every word. “I don’t know if Australia is the place for me but,” You shrug. You’ve grown and gained experiences, you’ve traveled to places you never thought you’d visit; you are happy with your life. You want to experience a different kind of thing now. “so far I like it here.”
“That’s awesome!” Charles has traveled the world too, but he doesn’t see himself leaving Monaco and his family. But he understands the desire to see new places and discover new cultures.
“Charlie!” 
You both turn your head around to see the boys he was surfing with coming out of the water. 
“Those are my friends. I’m sorry for whatever they’re going to say.”
You laugh, whispering a ‘don’t worry’ just before you’re joined by the four guys. 
“Oi, who’s this?” A dark-haired guy asks, crouching to pet Daisy. 
“That’s Daisy,” Charles answers before moving to stand beside you. “and this is Y/N.”
The four boys look between you and Charles in silence, then they’re all waving at you.
Charles leans a little closer, and you hold your breath. “That’s Dani,” He points to the same guy who asked about Daisy. Then he points to a curly-haired boy wearing a pair of pink shorts. “that one is Lando and the one next to him is Max.” 
“So, how do you find my boy Charles here?” A guy with French accent teases you. 
“And that’s Pierre. Don’t listen to him.” Charles sends death glares at his friend, who just holds his palms up in surrender and grins. 
“We need to go,” Lando or Max? says, looking at his friend with pity and mouthing a ‘sorry’.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N!” All of them say, making you laugh. You wave at them.
Then, you and Charles are alone again, Daisy lying on the sand in front of you.
“So,” Charles starts, fighting really hard not to look at your lips. He does a very poor job because you notice anyway, and of course you can’t help but wet your lips. Well, you have to do something, you’re probably not gonna see him again. “I have to go. But it was nice chatting with you.”
You reach out, placing your hand on his bicep and squeezing. And God, okay, he’s actually fit, fit. 
“It was nice meeting you, Charlie.”
Charles smirks, winking. Or at least trying to before grabbing his surfboard and walking away, it takes you a great effort to not turn around. 
“Hey, Y/N?” 
You’re just a girl. 
Charles is walking backwards, a bright smile dancing on his lips. 
“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?”
You try not to show how much effect his words have on you. “I don’t know,” You shrug. Playing hard to get now, really? “Come and you’ll see.”
1K notes · View notes
bluetimeombre · 3 months
Text
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ falling out of love
fans think that you and tom are falling out of love after filming for ballad of songbirds and snakes and you don't post about each other much, so you show them that it's far from the truth.
[heres to 2024 coming soon. this is not part of my ongoing series but a little something else to hold you all over. never proofread, just vibing. btw just watched salt burn and I’m scared of barry now]
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Tumblr media
liked by… rachelzegler, joshandresrivera, hunterschafer & others
tomblyth: the vibes are green
893k likes 398k comments
user: he’s so happy!!!
user: um, where’s yourusername?
user: that’s definitely not yourusername
user: they don’t have to be around each other all the time
user: they haven’t been seen together in ages ☹️☹️
user: if they break up I’ll cry myself to sleep every night
user: my man looks so good
user: maybe she just didn’t want to hike (i wouldn’t)
user: 😍😍
user: he’s active again!!!!
user: I miss them
user: where’s yourusername
user: daddy 🔥🔥🔥🔥
user: just wanna know who the girl he’s with is, i just wanna know
user: is that the necklace yourusername gave him?
user: y’all are obsessed!!!
user: let my man live
Tumblr media
liked by …. florence.pugh, austinbutler, jaimieflatters & others
yourusername: packing only the essentials
901k likes 650k comments
user: packing?
user: what do you mean packing, where you going?
user: hotmamma
user: I love u
user: where’s tom
user: where is she going? to tom
user: is she leaving tom?
user: I love her whole vibe
user: I hope she’s going to go see tom 😔😔
user: why is she always slaying, it must be so tiring to be her
user: tomblyth
user: tomblyth
user: tomblyth
user: I can’t lose my third set of parents plssss
user: hearts breaking rn
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Tumblr media
user: rip tomblyth and yourusername, I’ll miss you
user: cosying up??? they’re literally just talking
user: it was bound to happen
user: tom!!!! cone get ur gurl
user: crying in the club rn
user: not believing in anything until they confirm
user: I can’t believe it; i won’t
user: love is dead
user: as long as they’re happy
user: they were probably pr for the hunger games and it’s been over two years, who cares now
Tumblr media
liked by… jaimieflaters, sadiesink_, zendaya & others
yourusername: that’s a rap on me and my Malibu dude!
871k likes 0comments
[comments restricted]
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
‘It’s so over,’
trending on twitter
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Tumblr media
liked by… tomblyth, rachelzegler, jamieflaters, tomholland2013 &others
yourusername: tom and I falling out of love, a compilation
1.1m likes 832k comments
user: oh it’s so back
user: she really said stop it!
user: parents!!!!
user: THANK GOD
user: taking the toaster out of the bath rn
user: goals
rachelzegler: you guys are so cute I’m gonna throw up
user: the fourth picture hello?!?!?!
user: damnnnnn
user: THANK GOD IM SO HAPPY
user: stfu enews
user: he’s such a gentleman in every picture but the fourth
user: I just knows he’s packing
zendaya: ❤️
user: planning the wedding
user: twitter lied!!
Tumblr media
liked by … yourusername, rachelzegler, joshandresrivera & others
tomblyth: falling out of love? more like falling in love with every single day that passes. I love you
tagged: yourusername
1m likes 750k comments
user: AHHHHHHHH
user: the posts!!!! the posts!!!!!
user: I just know they picked out these photos together
user: I love them
user: they’re giggling and kicking their feet rn
user: this is the cutest damn couple ever
user: I know they’re so in love because look at like these pictures, so darn cute
user: two years going on forever!!!
user: they could never make me believe you guys were over
user: they were literally probably just laughing off the rumors
user: they had us in the first half, ngl
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
‘Oh it’s so back!’
trending on twitter
2K notes · View notes
jungqkook · 2 months
Text
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ FORBIDDEN ATTRACTION ┊ SIM JAEYUN
Tumblr media
‘this isn’t what you expected, right?’ ☁️ part of the forbidden attraction series ☁️ featuring hufflepuff!jake
also read sunghoon┊heeseung┊jay
Tumblr media
AU ┊hogwarts au
SUMMARY ┊ rumors at hogwarts run fast, most of them involving the most popular boys. however, your mind seems to be stuck on one particular rumor you’ve once heard in the girls bathroom (and you took it as an universal truth). “jake sim, the hufflepuff boy. you know him right? sweet, angel face? well, he fucks like an animal” you heard a girl saying.
and now more than ever you want to test that theory. just like any potion needs its recipe, like any spell needs its practise, you have to know if jake sim is all you need to feel good.
WARNINGS ┊ fluff, so much fluff. innocent jake that is anything but innocent. slow burn, and mutual pining although not evident at first. SMUT! heavy heavy heavy smut. mention of sunghoon x reader. mention of sunghoon & reader having sex. oral sex ( f ), fingering, praise kink as well as some degradation kink, use of the word ‘bitch’ a few times, dom!jake duh, nipple play, rough sex, unprotected sex, missionary (not the vanilla type but y’know), doggy style, choking, spanking, jake = soft tamer, cowgirl, dirty talk.
AUTHOR’S NOTE FINALLY IT’S HERE !!! i lost count of how many times i posted this chapter because the tags didn’t show up AT ALL 👁️👄👁️ thanks to those who tried to help me, and thanks for being patient. love u lots <3
Tumblr media
The autumn morning baths the school garden in a soft, golden glow, casting a warm embrace over every leaf and petal. The trees, adorned in hues ranging from burnished gold to deep burgundy, stand as silent witnesses to the changing season.
Flowers, resilient in the face of impending winter, flaunt their autumnal colors. Stone pathways meander through the garden, inviting students and teachers to explore the beauty within -- and you’re no foreign to its hidden gems.
As you walk past the yard reserved to Quidditch players – busy practising their skill with the broom – you’re met with a small, yet beautiful open-air classroom nestled within the vibrant garden.
Care of Magical Creatures has always been one of your favourite classes at Hogwarts, despite having to endure the Scottish breezy weather throughout the seasons. Winter, however, is coming closer each passing week, and you’re aware of that as your body slightly trembles at the chilly air.
With an arm firmly linked with Sunoo’s, you walk down the path towards your classroom, the air filled with laughters as you and the other students can’t contain the excitement to take care of adorable little animals.
Your Slytherin friend does not share your same interest in nature, opting for continuous protests on why Magical Creatures would freeze in this weather. Although you’re sure he’s mostly talking about himself – Sunoo and cold do not get along in any way – and you simply decide to ignore his cries, focusing on the sound of the rustling leaves that serve as a natural symphony, punctuating the ambient sounds of singing birds, the lasts before the upcoming of winter.
You finally reach your open-air classroom, walking towards you designated desk as your teacher acknowledges your presence when you all gather in front of her.
“Good morning, students!”
Madame Grubbly chirps happily, strings of cheerings coming from students following shortly after her words.
“Today’s class is different from the others,” she starts, gaining some students’ attention “as you’re going to put your knowledge into fruition.”
Her playful tone makes students whisper among themselves, and by the grin on her face, you can tell she’s amused by your reaction. She stops in front of yours and Sunoo’s desk, and before you could process what happens, a magical creature appears with a quick snap of her fingers.
And not any creature, but a Kneazle.
You – as well as the rest of the class – let out a cooing sound at the sight of the orange, cat-looking animal, while Sunoo fights himself from letting out a screeching sound of disgust. Not that he doesn’t like magical creatures, it’s just that… well, he can be difficult with animals. (Or the animals are difficult with him, as he often says.)
“Today you’re going to take care of these sweet little creatures… from up close!” Your professors’ tone is full of excitement, making Sunoo sigh in discomfort at the idea of standing so close to a Magical Creature.
The Kneazle, as the highly intelligent creature that it is, feels Sunoo’s distant energy and narrows its big eyes at him, growling as he stares at your friend.
The grin on your face falls as soon as you notice Sunoo’s frightened gaze; the Kneatle’s pupils dilate, its ears flatten against its head while its body tenses. Its gaze locks onto Sunoo with an intense focus, ready to pounce on his porcelain face.
Just as the Kneazle lunges forward with claws bared, you take your wand out, ready to cast a spell and to protect your friend. But before you could do that, a sudden, loud voice interrupts your actions, making you both you and Sunoo jolt in your place.
“Wait!”
It’s not Madame Grubbly’s voice, although it’s no foreign for you - in fact, it takes you no time to recognise it immediately.
See, Madame Grubbly is known for being a wonderful teacher as well as a reliable animal taker. She also happens to have an acute eye for equally bright witches and wizards -- and it’s not surprising you’re one of her favourite students for that very reason. It surely helps that you’re good with animals almost as much as her.
The love you both share for magical creatures made her have an eye of regard towards you, and had no problems in sharing your abilities in front of the class.
But there’s one student she adores almost as much as her creatures, and although she appreciates you a lot, you know you can never replace their place in her heart.
It should make you envious, or at least annoyed at the fact that you’re not her favourite pupil.
But how can you blame her when your fellow opponent – although it’s improper to describe him like this – happens to be Sim Jaehyun?
If you ask anybody about the Hufflepuff boy – who goes around telling younger students to stop being formal with him and simply refer to him as Jake – they all will tell you the same exact thing: there’s no one at Hogwarts as kind as him.
And you can’t deny that he seems a genuine nice guy, often seeing him spending most of his time taking care of Magical Creatures and helping those who ask for his help.
That’s why it’s not strange that he’s now standing in front of you, saving Sunoo from an upcoming Kneazle attack.
He approaches the cat with slow, calming movements, speaking in soothing tones as he extends a hand towards the Kneazle, palm facing downward in a non-threatening gesture. He waits for the creature to relax, offering soft strokes and murmurs words of comfort until the tension melts away, replaced by a purr of contentment.
“Sssh, it’s alright,” he coos, the Kneazle nuzzling against his big hands as he messages its soft fur.
You hear Sunoo scoffing next to you, but you ignore his words as your eyes are fixed on the Hufflepuff boy.
He barely notices your gaze on him as he comforts the creature, before he turns to your friend. “You alright?” He asks, his voice honeyed as he continues petting the Kneazle.
Sunoo simply nods, before complaining about what just happened. “He was about to attack me for whatever reason.”
A small grin appears on Jake’s face at his words, although Sunoo finds the situation anything but amusing.
“Kneazles are intelligent creatures,” he explains, holding the animal in his arms, “They can sense everyone’s emotions. It’s not easy for them to warm up soon, especially when they’re afraid.”
Sunoo furrows his eyebrows at his explanation, and you notice his confused state right away.
“He means the Kneazle sensed your fear,” you turn to your friend as you speak, “And he felt threatened by your coldness.”
Your words made the Hufflepuff boy divert his eyes from the creature in his arms to you, meeting your eyes as a smile creeps on his face.
“She’s right,” he says, “Kneazles might be scary for someone, but I’m sure you’ll warm up to them.”
Sunoo forces a smile at his words, not matching with your own smile as you lock eyes with Jake. He looks at ease with the creature in his arms, and the scene is enough to make you melt.
It’s no wonder everyone at school adores him -- just his carefulness and gentle nature is enough to make you swoon. Although you wouldn’t admit it out loud.
“Alright!” Your little moment gets interrupted by Madame Grubbly’s screeching voice, urging you to recompose yourself before finally starting your class.
Jake catches the urging tone of your Professor, silently telling him to walk back to his desk. He immediately complies, Kneazle still in his arms, before sending one last apologetic smile to you and Sunoo.
You can’t help your eyes following his lean figure walking away, gently handing Madame Grubbly the magical creature as he finds his previous position at his table.
“Are you ogling behind the Hufflepuff dude?” Sunoo’s tone is teasing as usual, although wicked as he doesn’t even try to keep his voice down. “Or are you smiling like a dumbass for that growling cat?”
You let out a snicker at his words, not before sending him an harsh look when he didn’t even bother to wait for Jake to be far from you.
“Don’t even start.” You warn him, trying to dismiss any attempt of getting teased by your friend.
“I fucking knew it,” he simply responds, chuckling as you barely hide your smirk, “Jake Sim, huh? You might have to do some corrupting…”
You elbow him slightly, hoping that his words are covered by your Professor as she starts her lesson.
“Now is not the moment,” you whisper, but he continues his teasing.
“Why not? You’re always up to talk about new preys.”
You roll your eyes at Sunoo‘s words, although they’re right. You never waste the chance to talk about your little escapades, but it’s been a while since you have hooked up with anyone new. At least since…
“Wait, are you still hooking up with the Ravenclaw prefect?”
Ah, Park Sunghoon. For the past couple of weeks, you’ve actually kept your mind occupied with your latest conquest who you couldn’t deny has made a good job at satisfying you in any way.
However, his diligence is as remarkable as your sexual needs, and that often ended up with Sunghoon leaving you at the most inconvenient times (while his head was between your legs, just to make an example) only to fulfill his prefect’s duties whenever his presence was required.
That’s why you’ve been left dry for the past two weeks, although you can’t deny that you’re in the wrong for thinking he has to run to you as soon as you feel opening your legs for him – not that he would ever say no to that. Well, except when he has to do his rightful job.
“I haven’t seen him in these days,” you simply respond, trying to pay attention to your Professor’s words while Sunoo does a great job at ignoring them.
He lets out an ‘aaah’ sound, a smirk creeping on his face as if he can read your thoughts.
“That’s why you have your eyes set on Jake Sim now?”
You wouldn’t admit it out loud, not even to Sunoo, although he easily reads through you as if you’re an open book. The stoic expression on your face does nothing to conceal the blushing creeping on your cheeks, as well as the harsh way you try to brush him off at the mere sound of his name.
He can’t help the chuckle escaping him as he sees you so easily flustered -- especially for someone as Jake Sim! A kind, gentle soul who’d spent the rest of his life taking care of magical creatures and his plants.
But how can you not be flustered around him when you know his secret?
The Hufflepuff boy has always had a pure image about him and you would find hard to believe he was hiding himself behind an innocent facade. Except that’s what he’s doing, according to the rumours that run at Hogwarts.
You’re not the type of person to care about meaningless voices about other students -- you’ve always been one of the subjects of these rumours, however none of them were real. Well, almost none of them. But your hook ups were adamant not to spread weird voices around, simply because they knew it wasn’t worth it.
Although you try not to dive into other students’ rumours, you can’t help but think about the same words you once heard in the girls’ bathroom involving the Hufflepuff boy, and for once in your life, you didn’t feel guilty for eavesdropping.
Especially since you gained a new, much appreciated information about him.
Tumblr media
Flashback
Soft moans left your lips, head thrown back as you attempt to keep your voice down as the only sound you can hear is the wetness of your folds, mixed with the continuous licks and slurps coming from the man between your legs.
It’s been a couple of days since you and Sunghoon saw each other, that because it became awfully hard for you to meet up except when you’re in class.
That’s why you’re taking every chance, even for a short amount of time, to meet up. Even if that meant hooking up in the school bathrooms.
It certainly didn’t give you the same comfort as the Prefects’ private bathrooms, but you couldn’t really complain as long as Sunghoon used his skilful mouth on you.
“Mmmh Sunghoon!”
You couldn’t help the loud whines escaping your lips, his tongue toying with your clit but he immediately stopped as you nonchalantly kept moaning his name out loud.
“Quiet, sweetheart.”
His tone was demanding, although it didn’t match the growing smirk on his face.
“Or what?” You managed to say between harsh breaths, and he chuckled.
“Or I’ll stop,” he simply responded, “unless you want to be punish–”
Before he could finish the phrase, he gets interrupted by a loud thud, the door opening unexpectedly as laughters broke the silence in the bathroom.
You widened your eyes at the sudden intrusion, letting out a whine as Sunghoon shushed you immediately, trying not to get caught -- hopefully none of them, what you thought were probably two girls, would enter the bathroom you were in.
He covered your mouth with his hand, waiting for the girls to leave the place but they apparently had an excuse to spend their time there.
“What the hell did you do last night?” One of them asked, her voice high as she urged her friend to speak. “C’mon, tell me! What’s up with all this secrecy?”
The other girl laughed at her friend, teasing her before speaking. “You’d be shocked.”
Her words made her grunt, loudly enough to cover your sudden whine as Sunghoon lowered his other hand to your pussy, the coldness of his fingers making you shiver. The Ravenclaw simply chuckled at your reaction, pressing hard against you as you tried your best to remain quiet.
“Whatever, I know you hooked up with someone.” The other girl was growing impatient, and honestly, you were too. You were now curious, almost as much as her, although Sunghoon’s fingers made it hard for you to focus.
“Not just with anyone.”
You could hear the smirk in her tone as her friend pushes her even more. “C’mon, just tell me!”
Her loud tone could probably be heard from outside the bathrooms, making the other girl shush her.
“Fine, fine!” She exclaimed, sighing. “Jake Sim, the Hufflepuff boy. You know him right?”
You knitted your eyebrows at the mention of said name, not focusing on Sunghoon’s touch on you anymore as well as his soft kisses on your neck.
“What?” You heard the other girl saying in a surprised tone.
Her friend sighed in frustration. “Sweet, angel face? He’s so cute with all his plants and weird animals?”
“No I got it… it’s just, what?! Jake Sim?! There’s no way.”
You couldn’t help but match her surprise as she’s left speechless at her friend’s confession. Since when did the Hufflepuff boy had it in him?
“Well, yes actually,” she simply responded, not giving more information as you started to grow more curious about her hook up story, “and he fucks like an animal, too.”
If it wasn’t for the surprised gasp of the other girl echoing in the room, everyone would have heard your loud moan at the sudden intrusion of Sunghoon’s fingers inside your pussy.
Although you couldn’t deny that a wave of pleasure hit you unexpectedly as soon as you heard the girl’s words.
Jake Sim… a sex beast? It sounded weird even if you tried to picture him like that.
However, the more you imagined him like this, as well as hearing the girl’s detailed explanation of the many ways - and positions - he took her, the more you felt close to your peak.
“I thought he was a virgin,” the other girl chuckled, surprised at her friend’s words.
“Fuck no,” she responded, “I’ve never met anyone as good as him. He didn’t stop until I passed out.”
Your legs started shaking, a mixture of her words and Sunghoon’s fast fingers moving in and out of your pussy making your whole body tremble.
You almost hated yourself for imagining Jake having his way with you, making you his as he claims you in any way possible.
The thought alone was enough to make you reach your high, your legs giving up as waves of pleasure pervaded your body, squirting on Sunghoon’s fingers.
“Fuck…” you heard Sunghoon whisper in surprise, your eyes still closed tight even though you could sense his smirk, “you came so hard.”
You simply nodded at his words, humming quietly as you barely noticed the two girls leaving the bathroom in a rush, giggling to themselves.
“Shall we continue?” The Ravenclaw asked, and you almost felt bad at the fact that you came harder because your thoughts were fogged by that girl’s words. And by Jake fucking Sim and his animalistic side.
You didn’t respond to Sunghoon, simply pushing him against the wall as you waste no time in kissing him before pulling his pants down.
Jake Sim could wait. At least now that you have to take care of your favourite Ravenclaw boy.
Tumblr media
Almost two weeks passes since then, and you hate yourself for growing an almost insane addiction to the Hufflepuff boy.
You couldn’t understand, really. How can a guy so sweet-looking as him, his entire appearance reminding you of a kind puppy, be an actual sex God? According to that girl’s words, at least.
Caught up in your thoughts, you suddenly get pulled back to reality by a loud call of your name. You blink fast, your eyes locked on Sunoo as he shakes your arm as if to awaken you.
“I lost you there for a second,” he says, snickering at your confused state, “Are you even listening?”
You don’t respond as you try to understand what’s going on, too lost on your thoughts as your Professor claps her hands unexpectedly.
“Now less talk and more action,” she exclaims happily, before walking down the aisle, “Come, put your gloves on and grab the food.”
You hear Sunoo grunt at the thought of taking care of another Kneazle, but he complies as soon as he sees you collecting your stuff before walking down towards the Kneazles’ shelter.
“It’ll be fun,” you reassure Sunoo with a teasing smile, making him roll his eyes.
“Do me a favour and shut the hell up.”
You shamelessly laugh at his tone, hitting him on the arm as you urge him to move. The two of you walk towards the shelter, already surrounded by your classmates and your Professor.
Your eyes light up as soon as you notice other Kneazles wandering around, the sight making you awe.
"Now, let's go over some basics of Kneazle care. Who can tell me what Kneazles like to eat?" Madame Grubbly asks, immediately making some students raise their hands to respond -- Jake being the first, and the teacher lets him answer right away.
"They enjoy a diet of primarily raw meat, but they also like some fruits and vegetables." Jake's knowledge of magical creatures is endearing, as well as the passion you can hear in his words.
"Correct! Kneazles are carnivores, so a diet rich in raw meat is essential for their health." Madame Grubbly gives him a nod of appreciation, before speaking again. "Now, I'll need a volunteer to help me feed them."
A few eager students eagerly raise their hands, including you. Sunoo remains still next to you, his body rigid as he feels the Professor's eyes on him. But he soon lets out a sigh of relief as he hears your name being called instead, catching you almost off guard.
"Y/N, come dear." You comply immediately, gloves on as you wait for Madame Grubbly to open one of the cages and retrieve a bowl of raw meat.
You walk hesitantly inside the small shelter, one Kneazle immediately noticing you enter as he eyes you with a focused expression.
You're unsure of how to approach it, your body remaining still as the Kneazle walks up to you in a slow, defensive manner.
"Don't worry," you suddenly hear next to you, and you're surprised to see Jake leaning on the fence, guiding you, "Just approach it slowly and offer it the food gently."
He gives you a comforting smile, which you return as a silent way to thank him. You do as he says, walking slowly towards the creatures as he stands still.
You kneel in front of it, curious eyes staring into yours as it tilts its head in an inquisitive manner. You slowly hand it the meat, making it sniffle it before devouring it.
You chuckle at the sight, taking advantage to pet him as he mewls in contempt. You hear your teacher clap happily, complimenting you as you raise from the ground and walk back to your classmates.
You glimpse at Jake, whose smile never left his face as he gives you a thumbs up.
"That's what happens when Kneazles trust you," Madame Grubbly explains, "Once they do, it becomes easy to create the strongest bond."
"Or maybe it was just hungry..." Sunoo whispers, earning a roll of eyes from you as you hit him with your elbow. He snickers at your action, before getting interrupted by your professor throwing a piece of meat in his hands.
"Now it's your turn Sunoo," she smirks, "And this time there'll be no Jake Sim helping you out."
The rest of the lesson passes quickly, laughters and excitement fill the air as students take turns.
The last one, surprising as it sounds, is Jake. And it shouldn't surprise you that as soon as he enters the shelter, he's quickly surrounded by a couple of Kneazles at his feet, mewling happily at the sight of their known friend.
However, he simply acknowledges their presence, cooing at them before focusing on another Kneazle, distant from the rest.
The Kneazle, with its golden fur and large ears, eyes him warily, its lion-like tail twitching with uncertainty. Determined to gain its trust, Jake slowly extends his hand, offering it towards the animal.
"Hey there, little guy," Jake murmured softly, keeping his movements slow and non-threatening, "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to be your friend."
The Kneazle regards him with suspicion, but it doesn't recoil or hiss as Jake's hand drew closer. He only tenses for a moment but then relaxes slightly, its bright eyes studying his face.
"That's it," Jake whispered encouragingly, “You can trust me."
Emboldened by the small progress, Jake continues to offer his hand, patiently waiting for the Kneazle to make the next move. After a few tense moments, the creature inches forward, sniffing cautiously at his outstretched fingers. A small smile tugs at Jake's lips as he feels the soft brush of the Kneazle's fur against his skin.
"There you go," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “You're doing great."
With each gentle stroke, Jake can feel the Kneazle's apprehension slowly melting away, replaced by a growing sense of trust. Before long, the creature starts nuzzling against his hand, purring contentedly as he scratches behind its ears.
"Looks like we're friends now, huh?" Jake chuckles, and you hate yourself for getting so flustered at the sight in front of you.
As he calmly pets the Kneazle, lost in the moment, he doesn't even notice your eyes digging holes in him.
You watch Jake's gentle interaction with the Kneazle, your expression softening as you observe the ease with which he handled the magical creature. There's something about the way he moves, so calm and confident, that intrigues you.
"Alright, that's all the time we have for today," Madame Grubbly announces suddenly, interrupting the sweet moment, "Before you go, please remember to review the care instructions for the Kneazles in your textbooks. And if you're interested in learning more about magical creatures, don't hesitate to stop by during my office hours."
Students let out a discontempt sound at her words, but they grab their things quickly, heading for their next lesson.
You, on the other hand, decide to buy yourself some time, quickly saying bye to Sunoo as he winks at you, murmuring words of encouragement as he understands your motives quickly.
It's only you remaining now.
And Jake Sim, still on the other side of the fence as his attention is solemnly on the magical creatures.
You take courage and enter inside the shelter, immediately greeted by the Kneazle you previously fed as it nuzzles against you. You don't know how to react as it blocks you from walking, but a voice interrupts you before you could do anything.
"His name is Snuggle," you hear the Hufflepuff boy say, not turning his head to you as he contines to comb the other Kneazle's fur, "I named it like that 'cause he likes to snuggle. I guess you can tell, hah."
He lets out a chuckle, soon followed by yours as you kneel in front of Snuggle, petting him slowly although still hesitant.
"He likes you." His tone is confident, making you snap your head at him as you lock eyes, a smile creeping on him. "He took some time to warm up to me, but with you it was easy."
He walks closer to you, offering a hand to Snuggle as he hisses in a warning manner, making you both laugh.
"It was quite the lesson, huh?" Jake asks, trying to come up with a topic.
You nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Definitely. And I have to be honest, I've never seen someone connect with a magical creature like that before. It was... impressive."
Jake shrugs modestly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of color. "Thanks. I just love animals, you know? They have a way of understanding you."
You nod, a thoughtful look crossing your features. "Yeah, I know what you mean. There's something special about the bond between humans and animals."
You stand in companionable silence for a moment, the only sound the soft purring of Snuggle as he nuzzles against you.
"Uh, Jake?" Finally, you break the silence, making him hum at the call of his name. "I just wanted to say thank you for helping my friend earlier with the Kneazle. He tends to overreact sometimes, and it didn't help that I took my wand out."
He chuckles at your words, shaking his head with a warm smile on his face. "I understand, no worries. Creatures can be overwhelming for someone, although I'm curious about you, though. Did you intend to cast a Glacius spell to stop him?"
This time it's you who laughs out loud, strings of no's leaving your lips. "I got scared too, alright?"
He can't help but chuckle even more, taking an opportunity to tease you more. "You're not a Kneazle type of girl?"
You shake your head in response. "Not really, no. Maybe... a Mooncalf kind of girl?"
Your laughter dies as you notice his smirk fading, trasforming into a warm smile instead. "Mooncalfs?" he asks, surprised.
"Yeah. I don't know, it's just they seem so enchanting to me. With their big eyes and the costant dumb expression on their precious faces."
Jake can't help the laugh escaping him at your reasoning, but you ignore him. "They're like outcasts, you know? They want to blend in with everybody, but they somehow shine differently from the others."
"Mhm," Jake hums, his eyes lightening up at your words, "That’s what makes them special, I believe. They're rare creatures, although often misunderstood."
"I agree," you say, your tone honest, "I wish I could see them dance and play in the moonlight. I know it's a rare sight, but I've always dreamed to see them in real life."
Jake doesn't respond, although you notice his expression melting at your words; he looks lost in thoughts as his grip on the Kneazles loosens, before he speaks up again.
"Would you like to see them?"
Your eyes widen with surprise and delight at Jake's suggestion, your breath catching in your throat as you almost can't believe his words.
"You know," Jake begins, his voice filled with newfound excitement, "There’s a field not too far from Hogwarts where Mooncalfs are known to gather during the full moon."
"You mean... you know where we can watch the Mooncalfs dance?" you ask in surprise, Jake nodding in response.
"I might have gone there in secret, although I've always been alone. But there's a full moon in a few days and I already intended to go. I'm sure you'd love it, if you want to come with me."
For a moment, you're left speechless, you heart racing with excitement at the prospect of witnessing the Mooncalfs in their natural habitat. You look at Jake, your eyes shining with gratitude and wonder.
"I... I don't know what to say," you stammer, overcome with emotion, “That sounds absolutely incredible, Jake. I'd love to go see the Mooncalfs with you."
Jake's smile widens at your enthusiastic response, his own excitement matching yours. "Great! I'll make sure we have everything we need for the trip."
As you make plans to venture out to the Mooncalf field together, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building inside you.
Your smile never leaves you face, not even after you two said your goodbyes, parting ways as you head towards your next class. But of course, your mind is occupied with two things only -- and it'll be like this until the upcoming day.
It's not everyday that you get to spend a night out with dancing Mooncalfs. And Jake Sim, of course.
Tumblr media
As the night of your Mooncalf adventure draws near, you find yourself buzzing with excitement; you told Sunoo about your little escapade (or more like a date, according to your friend) with the Hufflepuff boy, and of course he was more than happy for you.
He starts to dislike your attitude now that you haven't had a dick to keep warm – again, these are his words – for quite some time now. So it's not strange that he's rooting for you and Jake.
In your room, you stand before the mirror, contemplating what to wear for the occasion. After much deliberation, you settle on comfortable yet practical attire: a pair of sturdy boots for traversing the uneven terrain as well as layered clothing to keep you warm.
And a yellow lingerie under your clothing.
Just in case.
With a satisfied nod, you cast a final glance around your room, ensuring you haven't forgotten anything important. Satisfied that you're fully prepared for the adventure ahead, you make your way to the designated meeting spot where Jake awaits.
You find him outside the Greenhouse, head up in the sky as he mindlessly looks at the stars. However, he immediately notices your presence as you walk up to him with a growing smile.
"Here you are," he says, and you barely notice that you didn't meet up at the designated time, arriving a few minutes later than intended, "I almost thought you wouldn't come."
"I'd never waste the opportunity to see the Mooncalfs up close," you reassure him.
"Of course," he simply responds, grinning, "Are you ready to go? It's quite a walk."
You nod in excitement, and in no time you and Jake set off into the night, the anticipation of what awaits you driving away any lingering nerves.
As you and Jake walk through the dimly lit bridge, the excitement in the air is palpable. The moon hangs high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the Black Lake as you make your way towards the Mooncalf field.
"So, you've already seen the Mooncalf dancing? It must be incredible," you ask, breaking the silence.
Jake nods in agreement, his eyes shining with excitement. "It really is something special. I've been a few times before, and each time, it's like seeing magic come to life right before your eyes. Which is odd considering magic is what I do everyday. But you get what I mean."
As you walk, you find yourselves sharing stories and anecdotes about your favorite magical creatures, each one adding to the sense of anticipation building within you.
“Have you always liked animals?” you ask, and his face lights up with enthusiasm at your question, a genuine smile spreading across his features as he nods eagerly.
“Oh, definitely,” he replies, his voice filled with excitement, “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been fascinated by magical creatures. There’s just something so incredible about them, you know? The way they move, the way they interact with their environment… it’s like they have their own little world within our world.”
You nod in agreement, captivated by the passion in Jake’s voice. “That’s why you spend most of your time with them?”
You don’t mean to intrude with your inquiry, however you’re curious to get to know him better.
Jake’s smile softens at your question, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he considers his response. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he replies, his voice tinged with kindness, “Being around magical creatures just… it feels right, you know? Like I belong with them.”
You listen intently as Jake opens up, sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings with you. There’s a vulnerability in his words that touches something deep within you.
“See, I’m no one special. I’m not a talented Quidditch player, nor a diligent Prefect. Studying is not really my forte so… taking care of things is what I’m best at. Although that’s pretty much all I can do.”
You’re taken aback by his candid admission, struck by the honesty and humility in his words. There’s a raw authenticity to Jake’s confession that resonates with you, and you realise how human he actually is.
“Jake, don’t sell yourself short,” you reply softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm, “Taking care of things may be your strength, but it’s not the only thing that defines you. You have so much more to offer than you realize.”
Jake looks at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of insincerity, but finding only genuine warmth and understanding.
His eyes fix on you, his gaze making you fluster as you can tell your words hit him directly on an open wound. But his smile returns, a light adorning his pretty eyes once again.
“Thank you, Y/N,” he simply responds, and only now you notice how close you’re walking to each other.
There's a comfort in Jake's presence, a feeling of calmness that makes you feel as though you've known him since forever.
You and Jake were never close, although being in the same year and sharing both Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures classes. You barely talk to each other, except the times you exchange words and greeting out of courtesy. Although you might have caught him looking at you every now and then.
Beside that, he always seemed unaware of people around him, girls in class pining after him at his minimal act of kindness. He always kept by himself, sometimes spending time with the Gryffindor captain Lee Heeseung, although he prefers keeping his popularity on the low.
Because he might be shy, but he can't hide how attractive he is. And for most people in school, looks matter more than anything.
Except this time, Jake truly seems a nice guy.
Which only adds fuel to your growing lust, knowing what lies behind his facade.
Maybe the girl in the bathroom exagerrated with her narrative, but you needed to know. If Jake Sim really had an animalistic side he kept hidden from everyone else.
Before you know it, you've reached the outskirts of the Mooncalf field, the soft glow of the moon illuminating the landscape before you. The air is filled with the sound of rustling leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures, adding to the sense of magic and wonder surrounding you.
You settle down on the grass, not before Jake lays down a cloth to prevent you from getting dirty. He really came prepared as he said, backpack on his shoulder to make the experience even more comfortable.
He sits next to you, giving you some space. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of the impending moment hanging heavy in the air. You steal a glance at Jake, noticing the anticipation in his eyes, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.
The silence stretches on, the tension building with each passing second, until finally, Jake breaks the stillness with a soft exhale.
"It won't be long now," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Mooncalfs should be emerging soon."
You nod in response, your heart racing with anticipation.
"Is it your first time here with another person?"
You suddenly break the silence, and only at his confused expression you realise how wrongly you worded your question.
"Uh, sorry," you stammer, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks, “That came out wrong. What I meant to say is, is this your first time witnessing the Mooncalfs' dance with someone else?"
You inwardly cringe at your attempt to clarify, hoping that Jake doesn't find your fumbling words too off-putting. But to your relief, he simply chuckles softly, his expression relaxing into a warm smile.
"Don't worry about it," he reassures you, his voice gentle. "And to answer your question, yes, this is my first time sharing this experience with someone else."
You breathe a sigh of relief at his understanding, grateful that he doesn't seem put off by your awkwardness. Although you don't miss the smirk spreading on his face, even if subtle as his gaze settles on you... differently from before.
Emboldened by his response, you continue, eager to keep the conversation going.
"So you don't bring girls out to see a Mooncalf dance often?"
Jake's expression shifts slightly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he processes your question. You can't help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness at your bold question, wondering if you've overstepped.
But before you can backtrack or offer an apology for your forwardness, Jake surprises you with a hearty laugh, his smile genuine and unguarded.
"Well, I suppose you could say that," he replies, his tone light, "It's not exactly a common outing for most people."
You find yourself relaxing in response to Jake's easygoing demeanor, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
"You mean someone would say no to this?" you ask, almost in disbelief at his words.
Jake chuckles softly, his gaze falling on the ground. "Believe it or not, not everyone sees the beauty in moments like this," he replies, a hint of wistfulness in his voice, "But I'm glad you do."
You're struck by the sincerity in Jake's words, a pang of empathy tugging at your heart.
"See, magical creatures can be unpredictable," he says, his eyes meeting yours once again, "But that's what makes them unique."
"What do you mean?" you ask curiously, and Jake's gaze suddenly changes at your question.
There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of a secret he’s hesitant to reveal. You catch it, a fleeting glimpse of a deeper layer to his persona, and it only serves to heighten your curiosity.
“Well,” he begins, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “Magical creatures have their own way of doing things. They follow their instincts, their own rhythms. And sometimes, that can lead to unexpected outcomes.”
You nod, the weight of his words hanging between you like a tantalising confession. There’s a magnetic pull drawing you closer to him, and you don’t even realise the way your body moves closer to his.
“What kind of outcomes?” you ask in a whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the night breeze. Your eyes remain locked on his, drawn to the flicker of light dancing within them, even in the darkness.
“Sometimes, when you least expect it, magical creatures can reveal something about yourself that you never knew was there. They have a way of bringing out parts of you that you didn’t even know existed.”
His words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning and possibility. In that moment, you feel a shiver run down your spine, a tingling sensation spreading through you.
At this point, you’re not sure he’s talking about animals anymore. Or at least, the “parts of you they can bring out” do not refer to his kind nature.
You can’t help but think of those words… the girl’s words that echo in your mind since that day you’ve heard them from the first time.
You don’t respond, feeling exposed under his gaze, and only now you notice how he stares at you, eyes studying your features. There’s a hidden urgency behind his gaze, however you know he’d never do anything.
Not when he’s not completely sure about your intentions. Not if you don’t want him as much as he wants you.
Before you could say anything, he interrupts you, shushing you quietly.
"Wait," he whispers, loud enough for you to hear, and you do as he says, "you heard that?”
You freeze, your heart pounding with excitement as you peer out into the darkness of the field. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air, every rustle of the leaves and hoot of an owl adding to the sense of anticipation.
"Don't make a sound, alright?"
You glance over at Jake, who raises from the ground. He gently grabs your hand, which you take happily as he helps you getting up.
You walk slowly, stopping behind a bush. Beside you, Jake’s eyes fix on the horizon. Despite the darkness, you can see the excitement shining in his gaze, a reflection of your own feelings mirrored back at you.
He puts an hesitant hand on your lower back, gently pushing you next to him as silently as possible. You move closer to him, and his proximity sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that you struggle to contain.
As you wait, you steal a glance at Jake, catching the way the moonlight dances across his features, casting shadows and highlights that only serve to enhance his rugged charm.
His eyes fall on you, staring into yours as he gulps slightly at the proximity; he looks ethereal under the moon light, and you almost forgot about the Mooncalfs as time seems to stop in this very moment, eyes melting with his.
The silence stretches on, the anticipation building with each passing moment. And then, just when you think you can't stand it any longer, you see it -- a soft glow emanating from the far end of the field, followed by the graceful emergence of the Mooncalfs from their burrows.
"They're here," Jake whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of your pounding heart.
You nod in response, your gaze fixed on the mesmerizing sight unfolding before you. The Mooncalfs move with an otherworldly grace, their movements fluid and hypnotic as they dance beneath the glow of the full moon.
Beside you, Jake's presence grounds you in the midst of the enchanting spectacle unfolding before you. You steal a glance at him, taking in the awe and wonder reflected in his eyes, and for a moment, it feels as if the world has faded away, leaving just the two of you and the Mooncalfs dancing under the moonlight.
As the Mooncalfs' dance reaches its crescendo, a sense of happiness courses through you, your heart pounding in your chest with the intensity of the moment. You feel Jake's hand brush against yours, a gentle gesture that sends a thrill racing through you, and you can't help but turn to him, your eyes meeting his in silent understanding.
It's only a mere moment, before Jake tightens his grip on you, silently gesturing you to look at the sight in front of you -- and not at him. Although his beauty matches that of the dancing creatures.
As the Mooncalfs' dance comes to an end and they retreat into the darkness once more, you find yourself speechless.
Jake watches the Mooncalfs' retreat with a thoughtful expression, his eyes reflecting the same sense of reverence that you feel. In the quiet stillness of the night, the air is heavy with the weight of the moment, as if the magic of the Mooncalfs' dance lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.
For a long moment, neither of you speaks, content to simply bask in the afterglow of the experience. And then, finally, Jake turns to you, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"That was... incredible," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nod in agreement, unable to tear your gaze away from the spot where the Mooncalfs had danced just moments before. "It was beyond anything I could have imagined," you reply, your voice filled with wonder.
As the silence stretches on, the tension between you and Jake becomes almost unbearable, a magnetic pull drawing you closer together. In that moment, there’s no denying the raw desire that courses through your veins, and you feel the urge to close the distance between you and give in to passion.
You want him so bad, and he can see that right through your eyes. He’s sure now, the look on your eyes making it hard for him to contain himself.
“Y/N…” he whispers, so close to your lips -- you didn’t even notice your proximity but his warmth is enough to make you feel dazed.
In a bold move, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You close the gap between you and Jake, your heart pounding with anticipation as you reach up to cup his face gently in your hands. His breath catches in his throat, surprise flickering across his features as he meets your gaze.
Without a word, you lean in, pressing your lips to his in a tender kiss. At first, there’s a moment of hesitation, a silent question lingering in the air. But then, as you deepen the kiss, pouring all of your longing and desire into the tender embrace, Jake responds in kind.
His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer as he returns the kiss with a passion that leaves you breathless. In that electrifying moment, there’s no doubt in your mind that he feels the same way, that he wants you just as badly as you want him.
As the kiss deepens, the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you lost in the heat of the moment.
You don’t miss the way he lets out a small moan as he feels your tongue playing with his lower lip, and he wastes no time in giving you access.
He savours you entirely, hands on your hips as he pushes you against his body. There’s urgency in his actions, almost as if he’s restraining himself.
And if that’s the case, how can you survive his true nature if he already left you breathless at the mere touch of his lips?
But as you grapple with your conflicting emotions, Jake pulls away from the kiss, his eyes focused on yours as your breath comes out in shallow gasps.
“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nod, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “More than okay,” you reply, your voice filled with warmth. “That was… amazing.”
Jake’s smile widens at your words, confidence washing over his features. “I’m glad,” he says, his voice tinged with sincerity.
You remain silent, both of you catching your breaths as your body are still pressed against each other.
You want him to take you right here. On the grass, under the moon light as he ravishes you entirely.
And he reads that right through your gaze, so full of desire and lust as you stare at him through half-open eyes.
“We should head back,” he whispers, and your shoulders fall at his words although he’s quick to reassure you, “Here it could be dangerous after a while.”
You nod reluctantly, understanding the need to return to safety despite the intimacy of the moment. “Yeah, you’re right,” you reply softly.
Jake squeezes your hand reassuringly, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through you.
And throughout your walk back to the Castle, he never leaves the hold of your hand, tugging it every now and then as you exchange playful looks.
Silence fills the air, only adorned by sounds of night animals as they add a more enticing aura. But all you can hear is the loud thumping of your heart, that moves faster each time you meet Jake’s gaze.
So full of intimacy, and yet they hide a lust you’ve never seen in him before.
Tumblr media
“So…” Jake’s voice is the only thing you can hear in the hallway, echoing in the empty walls.
You don’t know what to say as you both stand in front of your Common Room -- Jake, being the gentlemen that he is, insisted that he had to accompany you back to your dorm.
You meet his gaze, the intensity of it sending a shiver down your spine. In that moment, you can’t help but wish for time to freeze, for the night to stretch on indefinitely so you can spend more time together.
With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you take a step closer to Jake, closing the distance between you with a sense of determination. “You know,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t want this night to end just yet.”
Jake’s eyes widen slightly at your words, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a slow smile spreads across his lips. “Me neither,” he replies, his voice husky with desire.
In that moment, the tension between you reaches a fever pitch, the air crackling with anticipation.
“You don’t have to go yet…” you say, voice tempting as your eyes stare into his, noticing a hint of desperation in them.
Jake’s breath catches in his throat at your words, his own desire mirrored in the intensity of his gaze. He takes a step closer to you, the heat of his body radiating against yours, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.
“What are you suggesting?” he whispers, so close to your lips and you feel the urge to kiss them desperately.
You brush your lips against his, almost ready to give in as your nose touch in a intimate way -- but you both know what lays behind your soft touches.
“I thought you might show me,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper, but the implication is clear. You want more than just a kiss, more than just a fleeting moment of passion. You want to explore every inch of Jake’s body, to lose yourself in the heat of the moment and surrender to the primal urges that course through your veins.
And as Jake’s eyes darken with desire, a silent understanding passes between you. There’s no need for words – the hunger in his gaze speaks volumes.
And you can’t wait for him to show you everything he has to give.
Tumblr media
You don’t waste any time.
Leading him into your room, you lock the door behind you, the sound echoing in the silence. What you can hear though, is Jake’s laboured breath against your neck as he leaves you kisses on your soft skin, his hands gently grabbing the flash of your hips.
You turn to face Jake, your eyes locking in a heated gaze.
With trembling hands, you reach out to him, pulling him close until your bodies are pressed together, the heat of his skin searing against yours. His lips meet yours in a fierce kiss, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.
“Fuck,” he murmurs against your lips, grunting quietly as his grip on you tightens, tongue fiercely crashing against yours.
You whine at his roughness, feeling your body getting hotter as you both take off your coats and shoes, immediately finding each other again as he pushes you towards the bed.
“Lay down on the bed.” His voice is as authoritative as you’ve always wanted to hear, making you bite your lips in a tempting manner. When he notices you almost throwing yourself at him again, he stops your movements.
“C’mon kitten.” His tone is condescending, and you feel your pussy throb at the pet name. “Do as I say.”
A part of you wants to tease him, but this time you don’t see any reason to, immediately sitting down on the bed.
You look up to him with hooded eyes, silently begging him to have his way with you however he wants. You’ve never felt so vulnerable before, ready to put yourself at service for someone. But it doesn’t matter as long as that someone is Jake Sim.
A smirk appears on his face as he looks at your begging expression, one of his hands gently pressing around your neck as his face comes closer to yours.
He doesn’t waste any time, immediately kissing you hard as his tongue plays with yours, almost violently.
You respond in kind, matching his intensity with your own, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer. The heat between you builds with each passing moment, the air thick with the heady scent of desire.
“Strip for me, pet.”
His tone is barely a whisper against your lips, but the raspiness of his tone makes you tremble as you do as he says.
He breaks the kiss, watching as you temptingly take your clothes off, eyes staring into his as his expression slowly changes into one of an animal in heat. Your shirt comes off first, showing him your yellow bra, the lace material hugging your chest in the most alluring of ways.
“Show me your panties too,” he says urgently, his breath becoming more laboured as he feels himself going crazy at the sight of your pretty body.
You take your pants off, unbuttoning them slowly as you bite your lips. You look like a little pet ready to be tamed, Jake thinks.
He notices your panties and grunts when he sees you purposely matched the colour of your lingerie.
“Now get in the middle of the bed,” he demands, his tone harsh, “On your knees, pet.”
You do as he says, positioning in the middle of the bed as you place your hands on your thighs. He follows shortly, biting his lower lip at the sinful sight in front of him, so obedient and ready for what he’s about to give you.
He takes his shirt off, and you awe at the sight of his chiseled chest -- you never expected him to be this fit, but you’re pleasantly surprised by how beautiful he is, even underneath his clothes.
“Look at you, so obedient.”
He praises you as he positions himself in front of you, one of his hands finding your face. His thumb softly traces the skin of your cheek, hand moving down to your neck without tightening the grip; he just keeps it there, gently pushing your face up as he studies your features.
You look absolutely beautiful under the dim lights of your room, your eyes shining so bright as a silent way to show him how much you need him.
And who is he to deny you - and himself - this pleasure?
His hand moves lower, grazing your collarbones as he plays with one strap of your bra.
“Yellow looks good on you,” he says, playing with the strap. You feel yourself blushing at his words, but before you could do anything, a whine escapes you.
His hand, in fact, moves lower, fingertips tracing your hardening nipple as he starts toying with one of your breasts.
Pleasure pervades your body at his touch, although the heavy material of your bra makes it harder for him to play with your bundle.
But he wastes no time, lowering the lacy cup as immediately finds your hard nipple, pinching it hard.
“Jake!” you can’t help but moan out loud, but he ignores you as he grabs the flesh of your boob, making him grunt at its softness.
“You’re so sensitive for me…” He’s amused by how easily flustered you get at the mere touch of his hand, motivating him to tug the clasp of your bra as he takes it off completely.
You’re left with your chest naked, not having chance to process the cold air hitting you as his mouth suddenly engulfs your nipples.
A moan erupts from your own lips, back arching at the sudden pleasure as he savours your chest completely. The sight is enough to make you squirm, but when you feel his teeth biting on one of your nipples, you almost retrieve from him.
Jake, however, grabs you by your butt, hands tightening around you as he pushes you back against him. You don’t expect him suddenly leaving a smack on one of your ass cheeks, making you mewl loudly.
“Stay still,” he says, his tone more demanding, “C’mon, be a good kitten.”
The action only makes you grow impatient, and you’re sure that you’re panties are soaked by now. By how can you not be wet when he treats you like this? So considerate, yet so roughly.
He continues giving attention to your nipples, focusing on each one for a few seconds while going back and forth. The pleasure he’s giving you is intense, so intense that you barely notice the way his lower body moves against yours in a desperate manner.
You manage to look down, eyes on the wet patch you’re leaving on his black jeans as he basically grinds against your center, the rough fabric making you hiss.
“Stop squirming, kitten.”
He lets out one of your nipples to warn you, hands grabbing the flash of your ass as he continues his movements. You whine in responds, wanting more than just feeling his clothed erection against you.
He seems to notice your desperation, his body moving away from yours as one of his hands moves back to your front, lowering towards your wetness.
This time, his name comes out as a loud moan. Especially now that his hand found your panties, slowly but steadily rubbing your clit. The action makes your body jolt in surprise, making him chuckle devilishly as his fingertips move faster.
“Pretty girl,” he murmurs against your neck, hand still working inside your panties, “So wet for me.”
You feel your face heat up at his words, sounds of your wetness filling the room as he teases your entrance with his index finger. But instead of entering you, he retrieves his hand, making you shot your eyes open. You didn’t even notice you had them closed.
“Lay down for me, pet. Legs spread.”
You nod weakly, although you’re quick to lay down, legs open as he moves on top of you. He looks at you with so much lust, so much desire that you feel that the person in front of you is not the same Jake you know -- but rather a version you desperately want to explore more.
His hands trace along your legs, their coldness making you shiver as he takes his time teasing you. You look at him attentively, noticing the way he purposely ignores where you need him the most.
“You want me to take care of you?”
His tone is almost mocking, but you can’t help but nod vigorously at his question. He chuckles again, grabbing the hem of your panties before stopping.
“Say please.”
In other occasions, you would have rolled your eyes. Men are usually so easy to give in to you, but Jake Sim has made a good job at showing you he’s not like them.
And so, you beg. To the point that you almost feel miserable.
“Please Jake, please!” you say, wiggling your legs as your tone matches the desperation in your gaze.
And if it wasn’t for your eyes - so lustful and craving - telling him that you need him in any way possible, he wouldn’t give in yet.
But instead, he does, grabbing your panties and taking them off roughly as you let out a surprised sound.
“Such a pretty little pussy,” he awes at the sight, your center so wet and welcoming as his cock twitches inside his pants in anticipation.
“I’m so wet.” Your tone is almost high-pitched, but Jake knows it’s intended to tease him further, making him lose his control entirely.
“Yeah? What should we do about it?” he asks, already inserting his head between your legs, admiring your state.
You shrug your shoulders at his question, making him grin before his eyes meet your cunt once again. It’s so inviting -- everything about you begs him to claim you.
“Tell me to eat you out, pet.”
His words make your eyes widen, but you’re sure he won’t do anything until you say so. That’s the moment where Jake gives you the chance to accept, or to retreat yourself.
And of course, you give in.
“Please, Jake,” you start, “Please, eat my pussy out. I need it so bad!”
His response is quite peculiar as he simply chuckles at your words, biting his lower lip with a smirk still plastered on his face.
“That’s a good girl.”
And just like that, he dives in.
You already know he’s not someone that wastes time, but you’re taken aback as he immediately starts eating you out, movements fast and erratic as gasps leave your lips.
“Jake, Jake!” you moan his name out loud, his tongue lapping you hungrily as he doesn’t give you time to process his movements.
Sounds of slurps fill the room, alongside your loud moans and yells as he eats you out - literally. He’s almost ferocious in his actions, also moaning against you as he focuses back and forth between your aching hole and throbbing clit.
“Pussy tastes fucking amazing,” he moans, his tongue easily sliding into your hole as you gush around the muscle, moving so skilfully inside you.
He takes it as a sign to insert two digits inside you, immediately fastening his movements as he curls them against you. The motion makes you throw your head back, unable to keep your eyes on him as pleasure fills your body completely.
“Yeah, you like that?” You nod at his question as his tongue toys with your swollen clit while his fingers move steadily inside you. “Feels good, huh?”
You feel unable to respond as he attacks your pussy, your legs about to give up as you can’t keep them open anymore, pleasure too overwhelming.
“You want to come for me, pet? Then keep taking my fingers like a good girl, c’mon.”
His words make it harder for you to function, and it doesn’t help that’s he’s so incredibly good with his mouth and fingers, making you close to the edge.
“Be a good pet for me,” he says, this time slowing his movements, “And cum when I say so.”
He goes back to his fast movements, making you almost scream as you shake at the change of speed.
“Five.”
You look down at him as he starts counting, wide eyes staring into his dark ones.
“Four.”
The scene in front of you makes it hard for you to keep yourself from orgasming, but you don’t want to risk it.
“Three– look at you shaking.”
His chuckles have no right to make you aroused, but somehow they only add fuel to your lust as you’re so close to snap.
“Two.”
Your legs threatens you to give out at this point.
“One.”
Just a little bit more, you think.
“Cum for me, kitten– yeah fffuck…”
You don’t give him time to finish as a loud scream of his name erupts from you, body shaking as you finally cum on his mouth and fingers.
Ecstasy completely washes you as you squirt on his fingers, which he doesn’t retrieve from you as he continues fucking your pussy open through your orgasm.
“Jake, fuck!” you scream when he doesn’t stop, overstimulating you while his other hand rubs your clit fast.
“I’m not going to stop, pet,” he warns, continuing his movements, “Keep taking it.”
You feel too much pleasure, barely managing to stop your body from wiggling to much. Your legs, however, don’t stop shaking as you feel the urge to close them.
“Legs spread, c’mon kitten.” He gives a slap to your thigh when you threaten to close your legs around his head, although a part of him wants you to suffocate him with your thighs.
But he doesn’t need anything else now, except eating your pussy until he grows tired of it -- although he’s sure he could never be tired of your sweet taste.
Only after a while, he slowers his movements, stopping them entirely as he raises from between your legs.
You barely manage to open your eyes, the sight in front of you making you ready for what else he has in store for you.
“Such a good pet you are,” he praises, palming himself through his pants as you stare into his huge bulge, still restrained in the tight material, “Taking it so well.”
“You’re going to be my little pet from now on,” he says, tone lower as he starts unzipping his pants, “I’ll train you so good.”
He finally, finally lowers his jeans alongside his dark boxers, showing what hid inside them as his huge cock springs free against his abdomen.
It looks painful, with its red tip and veins popping on the sides but you can’t help but imagine how amazing he must feel inside you. And how good he’ll stretch you out with its big girth.
“You ready for this cock, kitten?” He notices your eyes fixed on his dick, at this point as big as his ego -- now growing even more as you stare at him in awe; he truly looks like a Greek statue, figure lean and muscular at the same time.
He grabs you by your ass, sliding your lower on the bed as he puts your dick right on your pussy, your wetness making it easier for him to slide it between your folds.
You whine as his heavy tip touches your clit, and he murmurs a quiet ‘fuck’ as he looks down where your bodies meet. The scene is so hot, and you wonder much you can take it.
Not much, as you start moving your hips, silently telling him to fuck you against the mattress as soon as possible.
“Yeah, you want me inside?”
You nod vigorously, your impatience making him smirk.
“Then do it yourself, pet. Put it in.”
You do as he says, raising on your elbows as you grab his heavy cock in your hand, slowly jerking it off as he throws his head back. However, his eyes turn back on you, silently urging you to do as he demanded.
And so, you insert the tip right at your entrance, already feeling a stinging sensation as its girth stretches your hole. You slowly sink down, only putting the tip in as a loud moan erupts from your lips, eyes watering.
Jake, on the other hand, can’t hold it anymore. Not when your pussy feels so incredible around the tip of his cock, not when he imagined this same exact moment for months now.
He doesn’t know how long you’ve been the main character of his twisted fantasies, but each time, you manage to make him cum harder than the previous time.
Being in class with you is a total nightmare for him. You, being the caring, smart student that loves animals almost as much as him. You, whose reputation can never get dirty as everyone just simply adores you and admires you from far. Just like Jake Sim has always done.
How long he has dreamed of this, pounding you against the mattress as he’s doing now. He doesn’t give you time to react, inserting his entire cock inside you in a swift motion.
He moves so fast inside you, bed crushing against the wall as your moans fill his ears so beautifully, your hands grabbing every inch of his body in a desperate manner.
“Jake, oh my fucking god!”
You feels yourself getting exhilarating at the waves of pleasure pervading your body, his dick impaling you while you try to grab him wherever you can.
“Fuck yeah, what a tight little cunt.”
He’s so vocal, grunting loudly as he stares at your eyes, now adorned with small drops of tears as they stain your cheeks. It all feels so good, too good for your body to take it. You’ve never felt this much pleasure before, this much force and passion in one human being.
You loudly gasp, thighs shaking violently as he hits your sweet spot directly -- and this time you can’t help but instantly close your eyes, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of your impeding orgasm.
“Look down.” Jake notices your eyes shut tight, grabbing your throat to make you look down once again. “Fuck, shit– look how good you take it.”
He tightens the grip on your neck as you don’t do as he says, simply moaning out loud as your brain almost stops functioning.
“I said look down, bitch.”
The sudden nickname makes your eyes roll, pussy tightening around his fat dick. You hate yourself for getting turned on at his degradation, but you’ve always wondered what if felt like being called names during sex.
You manage to open your eyes, noticing the way his hips slow down to give you some time to recover. His eyes search into yours for a sign of hesitation, but when you give him a small smile of reassurance, he plants a soft kiss on your lips.
He continues his slow motions, and finally, you look down between your legs, moaning loudly as his cock splits you open.
“You’ve never looked better than this,” Jake whispers in your ear, before biting the lobe gently, “With your legs spread open, taking me so good.”
His words, alongside with the sight of his cock fucking you, makes you feel closer to the edge, your whines getting louder.
He takes his hand off your neck, although his grip has been loose, and starts planting soft kisses on its soft skin in a comforting manner -- so different from the way his hips snap harshly against you.
“My good little kitten,” he whispers on your neck, making you tighten around him as you feel close to the edge, “Wanna cum for me again?”
You let out a whine in response, soon followed by a loud gasp as he stops completely, not wasting time as he grabs you by the hips and roll on your stomach.
He hums at the sight of your ass, pressing his dick between your cheeks as he spanks them simultaneously.
You jolt at the action, but he shushes you as he plants small kisses on your back, while his hands harshly grab your boobs.
He stays like this for some minutes, before he feels your ass wiggling against his dick. You’re no patient, not when you feel so empty without him inside you.
Jake catches it quickly, chuckling to himself as he positions himself behind you, not before making you arch your back for him, ass in the air.
“So fucking hot,” he says, slapping your ass again before inserting his cock again.
This position makes you see stars immediately, his tip constantly hitting your g spot directly while you scream in ecstasy.
You’re so loud he has to push your head down the pillow, the action making you wetter. “Tsssk, you like when I push your face on the pillow? Of course you do, my little bitch.”
He tastes the waters with the nickname, but when he hears you moan and tighten your pussy around him, he feels more confident in using it.
You feel close again, urgency filling you as you gain enough strength to push your ass back against him, making him hiss at the sudden friction.
“Yeah like that, bounce back c’mon.”
You comply immediately, loving the way he moans so desperately at your action. This time, you feel like you’re the one being in control as he lets you fuck him.
“Look at the way you take it, fuuuuuck…”
You look back at him, moaning loudly as you see his head thrown back, lower lip trapped between his teeth as he enjoys all the pleasure you’re giving him.
“Such a desperate little pet for me, fucking yourself on my cock,” his tone is harsh, in contrast with his movements as they stop once again, “Am I not treating you right enough?”
His words leave you confused, but before you could say anything, he rolls you on your back, grabbing you by the hips as he lowers down the bed instead, putting you on top in a swift motion.
His cock sits on his abdomen, still so hard as it begs for release, and you want desperately to make him cum.
“Show me how you take it, pet.”
You widen your eyes at his words as he implies you ride him after blowing your back out, making it hard for you to move on your own, at least for now.
“Oh, do I have to show you?”
His tone is mocking, his hands grabbing your hips as he positions you over his cock. You put your arms around his neck, letting him move you as you feel his cock in your entrance.
“There pet, you can sit now.”
You stare into his eyes as he whisper these words, immediately sinking down his dick as it somehow feels bigger in this position. You’re left with your mouth open, strings of moans leaving you as Jake stares back at you, so immersed in the pleasure that tints your eyes so enchantingly.
“Don’t act shy on me now.”
You do feel shy under his gaze, simply because you feel a hint of intimacy behind all that lust that have painted them for the entire time.
He grabs your hips again, fastening your movements as to show you how to do it.
“C’mon, use me.”
You moan at his words, still a command although its double-meaning nature, and you do as he says, planting your feet on the bed as you start moving up and down faster.
He bites his lip at your action, eyes lowering to stare down at your body. “Look at your perfect precious body, fuck.”
You continue fucking him as your life depends on it, boobs bouncing directly on his face as his mouth catches a nipple, sucking on it gently.
The action makes you arch your back, altering your movements as you start grinding on him instead. That makes you moan loudly as your clit brushes against his pelvis.
Jake thinks he could die right here, in this very moment. And for him, it’d be the best way to go. Seeing you so focused on your pleasure, using him as he knows that he has to power to change everything no matter what.
“I’m going to fucking cum, kitten.”
He says loudly, although you feel your ears ringing as you focus on pleasuring yourself. You barely notice his hands on your hips, directing your movements as you both use each other.
“Fuck Jake… I’m close too, fuckfuckfuck!”
Euphoria washes you completely in the same moment he puts his hand on your clit, working the bundle with quick movements as he starts fucking you from below.
It doesn’t take long before he empties himself inside of you, your pussy getting impossibly tighter as string of moans, gasps and praises leave his lips.
His face scrunches in pleasure as he continues impaling you on his cock, and at this point you don’t even care about what you’re doing.
You get so lost in pleasure that you barely notice your impeding orgasm washing you over entirely, the pleasure hitting a few seconds later as your body freezes.
You let out a gasp, followed by a scream of his name, as tears roll down your cheek, pleasure too unbearable.
It all feels so good and so intense at the same time, making it hard for you to come to reality as your body falls on top of Jake’s.
He’s still breathing heavily, arms immediately caging you as he murmurs small praises and words of appreciation.
You don’t register any of them, though, not even noticing that you’re quickly falling into the real of dreams.
Tumblr media
The first thing you feel as soon as you wake up is the light touch of soft, yet calloused fingertips as they brush off some hair off your forehead.
A soft whine escapes you at the small act, stirring in your slumber as your eyes fatigue to open entirely. But only when you feel an arm around you, tightly holding you by your waist, you shot your eyes open.
You almost sigh in surprise as you’re met with Jake, whose smile is adorned by a warm smile greeting you.
“‘Morning,” he says, his tone not too raspy, a sign that he woke up earlier than you.
He immediately notices the confusion written on your face, unsure of how you found yourself waking up in his arms, covers over you as morning rays enlighten your room. It can’t be already morning, right? How long have you and Jake been at it?
“You passed out,” Jake immediately shushes any thought in your head, your eyes widening at his words, “And you fell asleep after making a mess on me.”
You let out an embarrassed chuckle, hiding your face on the pillow as he tries to reassure you, laughing as if to lighten the mood.
“Don’t be shy now,” he says, and you blush as you remember he said the same words the previous night -- in a much more suggestive context. But now, he’s just being as kind as you know him to be.
“It’s kinda hot knowing that I made you cum like that.”
You groan at his words, although you can’t help the laughter escaping your lips. You have to give him that, after all. He really gave you what you wanted.
Although you are pleasantly surprised that he was just as you pictured him to be. Or even better.
“What is it?” he suddenly asks, noticing your pensive gaze on him. You shake your head in response, shrugging your thoughts off.
But he chuckles instead, a smirk appearing on his face.
“This isn’t what you expected, right?”
“Shut up, Jake,” you respond with a laugh, rolling your eyes in a playful manner as he laughs alongside you. Although he knows he read right through you.
You sit down on the bed, covers pressed against your naked chest as you look around the disordered bedroom, searching for your underwear.
You immediately spot your yellow bra, although you can’t seem to find its other half.
“Are you looking for this?”
Jake’s voice interrupts your search as you look back at him, eyes widening when you see him holding your yellow panties with a smirk on his face.
You try to take them, but he retrieves his hand back. “These are mine now.”
You raise your eyebrows at his words, letting out a chuckle as you simply let him have them. At least, as a heirloom of what happened last night.
It’s a good thing Jake happens to be a smart guy; as much as he craves you, he’s fine in just appreciating what you want to give him.
Because as much as he loves the idea of taming you, making you his, he knows.
He knows he can’t own you.
No one can.
— TAGLIST ; @yvesgff @moonlighthoon @lurking-coconut @sadgirltia @laylascornerr @hoonxclsvly @grungiejaems @siyen @violevantae @jakedoxxenvasion @zerasari @realuvwon @soobiverse @kaykay11sworld @hotsforikeu @sjakewrld @amortapes @hybeboyenthusisast @jasukewonnn @luvellexwon @tety1020-blog @sweetjaemss @lillotus17 @cutesiepatootsie @jaylaxies @baekxo07 @janehrt @seapug-protecc @xyzyours @underneaththestarlight @wannabeisekai @hyunniesvlog @eluffi @loves0ft @jayhyunglover @ilychee08 @emily505 @outofst1le @capri-cuntz @jsopinha @artstaeh @yunjinswifee @ivsjake4evr @jaehmarks @cynicalbitch666 @woniebae @ariadores @saranghaesvt @maymarylhs @tasilisa @heelusional4u @nyfwyeonjun @hybe02z @itsnikitty ( some can’t be tagged unfortunately :(( )
1K notes · View notes
revasserium · 2 months
Note
Hey, can I request zoro x reader (established relationship) where the Strawhats end up going to reader’s home island (unknown to anyone in the group aside from reader), and the reader is super nervous and refuses to leave the boat, so the crew goes out and walk around and they find a missing/wanted poster of the reader and find out she’s a run away princess that needed to be. Later they coke to find out that reader ran away cause her parents and the servants mistreated and was about to marry her off to a violent prince
opla requests are: open
lips on every cross
opla!zoro; 5,989 words; fem!reader, semi-established?? relationship, posessive!zoro, strawhat!reader, no "y/n", reader gets kidnapped, fluff and angst, very brief! mentions of past familial abuse and trauma, nicknames ("Princess"), slow-ish burn???, more plot than not
summary: zoro has never thought himself a holy man. but he'd kiss every cross if it meant finding his way back to you.
a/n: idk why every opla fic i write is like... more plot than i bargained for but here we are. literally, this fic was just supposed to be "zoro calls the reader 'princess'".
Tumblr media
01. when love arrives
(“Hey Princess —“)
The nickname starts, as almost all things do on the Going Merry, as a joke. And, as with most jokes made amongst the rag-tag crew, it sticks. He’d said it because he’s sure you’d mentioned your name once or twice already, but he’d been napping or eating and he didn’t feel like looking like an asshole right that moment.
The ribbon in your hair had caught the light in just the right way, pale pink satin — such a strange, soft color amidst the careening, careless ocean, and the word just… slipped.
“Why’dyou call her that?” Luffy asks, lounging back against the main mast as Zoro works through the umpteenth rep of single-armed pushups.
Zoro puffs out a breath and switches arms.
“Dunno. Seemed like it fit.”
Luffy slates you a long glance, blinking owlishly.
“Really? Eh — I guess… well, she is really pretty.”
Zoro only grunts, jumping up and stretching both arms over his head with a long, steady breath. His eyes flicker towards you as well, laughing with Nami on the foredeck, sipping on cocktails, Sanji probably simping somewhere nearby.
He thinks back to where they’d found you, hood pulled low over your eyes, the tell-tale signs of distress carved into every line of your body, from the curve of your spine to the bend of your shoulders.
Luffy hadn’t asked questions, so Zoro hadn’t either.
Curiosity, the fatal flaw that runs so sharp and obvious through the entirety of Luffy’s being, hasn’t always been rewarded well in Zoro’s experience. And he’s learned by now that “truth will out”, or so they say.
(“C’mon, Princess, I thought you said you could drink.”)
Caution, on the other hand, is Zoro’s oldest friend. You are cautious, if nothing else, and the first time he sees you relax in his presence, he wonders to himself if there’s a drug in this world strong enough to induce this feeling.
Later, he would learn that this is simply called falling in love.
He isn’t the only one who notices how you casually dip a silver fork or knife into every single drink before you take a sip, or that sometimes, you blurt out the word “no’ like a promise to yourself, and “sorry” like a plea for help.
And he’s spent long enough being a hunter to know what being hunted looks like. So he doesn’t ask, and you don’t answer, and somehow, you still manage to make yourself a home in the dark caverns of his chest, curling up there till he can’t count his heartbeats without it sounding like the shadow of your name on the midnight wind.
02. a study of light and dark
The drinking game starts off innocently enough (and don’t they always), but it takes half a round for the questions and subsequent answers to devolve into loud laughter and debauchery, delirium and debasement.
“Alright, alright —“ Sanji holds up a hand, tossing back his shot to raucous cheers, “worst thing you’ve done in a closet. Go —“
Zoro rolls his eyes and takes the shot, foregoing his answer. Nami simply grins, catlike, swirling her own drink around her glass.
“In your wildest dreams, cook,” she says before taking her shot as well. Sanji lets out a contemplative whistle, followed by a good-natured wink.
“Define worst, cause… I mean, I’ve puked in like… most of them back in Syrup Village,” Usopp says. Sanji only chuckles, shrugging.
“We’ll take it, we’ll take it.”
Luffy hums, frowning for a second before smacking a fist into his open palm, grinning, “I took a nap!”
Everyone laughs, helpless and buoyed up by the casual effervescence of a night like this — when the moon is dark and the stars are bright and thin wisps of silver clouds mar the sky like tendrils of lost daydreams, caught on the wrong side of sunset.
When the laughter settles down, everyone turns to you.
You purse your lips, feeling the weight of your answer pressing down on the tip of your tongue — I hid. And I waited. And I tried not to listen.
As the silence stretches on, Zoro leans forward and uncrosses his arms, reaching out to nudge a full shot glass towards you.
“Times up, Princess — drink,” and though there’s nothing soft or even forgiving in his voice, but you feel yourself relax as everyone boos and you take your shot.
The heat of Zoro’s gaze only lingers on your skin for a moment longer before he leans back again, that familiar almost-grin tugging lazily at his lips as he turns half-lidded eyes towards the rest of his crew.
(“Talk to me, Princess.”)
When you find him later, fumbling in the dark of the hallway just outside his room, you kiss him without saying “thank you” and he doesn’t question it when, pressed beneath him on the rough linen of his sheets, you ask to keep the lights on.
03. etymology
Princess — it’s a nice word, Zoro muses to himself. The light pop of the ‘p’ rolling into the warm, round ‘r’, thinning out into the sensual layering of the double ‘s’s, till you’re left with nothing but a hiss, a shadow, a memory.
It’s a regal word; a pretty word. Though its origins might be anything but.
From the Latin primus “first” and cept “catcher”, or so Robin had told him over the pages of an ancient book he hadn’t bothered to ask the name of, because Princes and Kings have always obtained their powers through taking, and never asking. Reaping, and never sowing.
Zoro thinks then that this, too, is a form conquest — you over him. The totality of your power stunning to behold, if only because he has to let you take it in the first place. And he does so willingly.
He wonders if you, too, are as multifaceted as his nickname for you — delicacy and desire wrapped around a darker something, lace laid over a knife’s unforgiving edge.
The first time he dares to kiss you, he feels you kissing him back, the sharp canines of your teeth catching on his lower lip, drawing out a soft grunt from him. You’d paused, and then you’d bitten down harder just to hear him gasp into your mouth.
He knew then, without ever having to ask, that you are.
04. tip of the iceberg
It is winter when they arrive — but then again, it is always winter here. Here, the cold runs so deep it drives frost crystals into the marrow of your bones. Here, the wind howls like a wounded animal and the night falls with a savage, carnal vengeance, all black velvet and a blood-tinted moon.
Here, the snow storms turn living, breathing heroes into song lyrics and poetry rhymes.
You inhale a single breath before turning and heading back below deck.
Zoro frowns, and at a single look from Luffy, he follows you beneath, only to find you rummaging around the kitchen, tugging a bottle of moonshine out from under the sink.
“Whoa,” Zoro says, reaching out to stop you from uncorking the bottle, an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t miss the way you shiver, “bit early, isn’t it?”
“Bit rich, coming from you,” you snap, eyes sharp, voice stinging.
Zoro only cocks his other eyebrow in tandem and pulls the bottle from your hands before turning and grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. He takes his time filling them both with ice, and then pouring a finger into each glass.
You don’t meet his eyes as you reach out for your glass, but he catches your wrist.
“A drink for an answer,” he says.
You pause, your lips pressed into a thin, white line. And he knows it’s unfair, to turn this game around on you, because he can tell from the hard set of your shoulders that this is so much more than a drinking game but if this is what it takes to get the truth — then so be it.
“Fine,” you say, glancing away, voice clipped.
You move to take a sip, but Zoro pushes down your hand again.
“No lying.”
You scoff, narrowing your eyes, “Obviously.”
He eases off, picking up his own glass and clinking it against yours before taking a light swig, “You know this place.”
This time, you’re the one who turns around with a cocked brow.
“Got a question in there somewhere?”
Zoro’s lips twitch, “Yes, or no.”
You sigh, tapping a finger against the edge of your cup, “Yes.”
Zoro hums, “Your turn.”
You chew on your lips before taking a sip, “Why do you care so much?”
Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Stupid question. Next.”
You huff, “That’s not how this game goes.”
Zoro swirls his glass before setting it down on the counter with a loud clack, “Because I care about you.”
You pause with your own drink halfway to your mouth and look up. Zoro doesn’t shy away from meeting your gaze and for a moment, time statics to a halt around you.
Then, Zoro sighs, unclenching his jaw as he attempts a lopsided smile.
“Hey, talk to me,” he reaches out to trail a finger along the high of your cheekbones, up to the shell of your ear.
The ‘please’ hangs silent in the air between you; the ‘Princess’ is implied.
And for the first time, he thinks he sees you flinch. He makes to pull back but you tug his hand forward, pressing your cheek against his palm.
“This island,” you say, finally, the tremor in your voice like a hairline fracture snaking through a porcelain vase, “it’s… well, it used to be… my home.”
05. the secret history
It is the most beautiful place any of them have ever been.
The castle is made entirely of ice, the cold winter sun refracting the light into a million and one unseen colors. Giant ice-carved sculptures dot the crystal-flower gardens, and it takes them all a few minutes to realize that the gorgeous, delicate blooms are made of glass, blown and shaped to mirror real-life snowflakes — each unique, glittering, and eternal.
“Dude… how long do you think all this took to make?” Usopp asks, his head turning as if on a swivel, his jaw hinging off his face in awe.
Robin sighs, “Too long, perhaps.”
Zoro stays quiet, and beside him, so does Nami.
You’d insisted on staying back, to guard the ship, you’d said. But the space you usually fill in the group hangs solid in the air, a gaping hole of lack when there should be none.
Luffy hums and he marches out in front of them, ever the dubious, fearless leader. Though most of the crew has now come to terms with the fact that “courage” and “sheer bull-headedness” are often two sides of the same coin for him.
It’s Sanji who pauses first, causing Chopper to ram into the back of his knees.
“Ouch! What’dyou do that f —”
“Look,” Sanji says, pointing at a poster pasted to the slick outer wall of the castle gates.
And they do, leaning in, crowding too close. Zoro grunts as Chopper jumps and scrambles up his back to peer over his shoulder at the face plastered on the dew-soaked poster, the words LOST PRINCESS: 120,000,000 FOR ANY INFORMATION THAT LEADS TO HER WHEREABOUTS printed in giant, familiar block letters along the bottom.
Beside him, Zoro can feel Nami swallowing. Hard.
“A hundred and twenty million berry…” she murmurs, her breath going shallow as they all stare, dumbfounded at the poster of what is unmistakably you.
You, with your exquisite features schooled into something like solemnity, your usually wind-swept hair twisted up into a tight braid across the crown of your head, a diadem of ice-white silver and light-cut jewels jutting up from your severe updo like so many broken teeth, sharp and unforgiving as stalagmites.
If none of them had known, it’d be impossible to reconcile you with this cold, distant portrait, your eyes rendered lifeless and dull by the depthless black ink.
Luffy, however, only blinks and turns to stare at Zoro.
“Did you know?”
“What?”
Luffy continues to stare, “When I asked why you always call her ‘Princess’.”
Zoro sighs, turning his eyes back to the WANTED poster before shaking his head.
“No. Like I said… I thought it just… fit.”
06. eternal day
Zoro is itching to get back to the ship. There’s a fish-line sliver of worry tugging at the place behind his chest where his heart should be, and he knows implicitly that something is wrong.
“Don’t worry, she can take care of herself!” Luffy says, smiling bright, his confidence unwavering.
“No Luffy, Zoro’s right — someone should be with her. What if —” and here, Nami glances at Zoro before turning her attention back to Luffy, “— she might need the backup,” is what she finally settles with. And to Zoro’s great relief, Luffy agrees.
And then, to everyone’s horror, off in the distance, your voice rises over the wind in a blood-curdling scream.
07. endless night
By the time Zoro makes it back to the ship, you are already gone.
08. torn asunder
Gone, gone, gone. The word echoes like an ill-fated alarm bell, ringing through Zoro’s entire body as he catapults himself through the ship, slamming open every door, checking every nook, corner, and crevice. Signs of a struggle, that much is clear, scuffs on the freshly waxed planks of the aft deck, nail marks along the railings, and —
Zoro’s breath freezes in his chest.
A smear of blood that drips over the side of the ship, trailing down the ladder.
A flash of pale pink catches his eye.
Your satin hair ribbon lies abandoned on the wharfs’ boardwalk, the faintest splatter of red soaking its ends.
He picks it up between gentle fingers and tucks it deep into his pocket.
His vision blurs red as he thinks about the things your captors might’ve done to you before dragging you off. He’s seen you fight and it wouldn’t have been easy to bring you down.
And by the time the rest of the crew reach him, he’s already sprinting back towards the castle, his jaw set, his teeth gritted.
It takes the combined effort of Sanji, Luffy, and Robin to stop him from charging through the castle gates and tearing the whole place down.
“Runnin’ round like a headless chicken’s not gonna do her any good, mate,” Sanji says, a smoke already caught between his teeth. A pre-fight ritual of his.
Zoro jerks his arm out of Sanji’s grasp, stalking down the street with a huff.
Robin strolls after him, somehow keeping pace, looking unhurried as Zoro tamps down the blind urge to slash the entire island in half.
“We’ll find her,” Robin says, her voice level, even as her sharp eyes scan the white-specked horizon, the usually amused half-twist of her lips laid flat by worry, “and she’s stronger than you think.”
At this, Zoro whips around, “I know —” but he bites down the venom threatening to surge up the back of his throat with a sigh. Robin doesn’t flinch, and Zoro attempts a steadying breath before repeating himself in a slightly softer tone, “I know… I’m just…”
Robin nods, and Zoro is thankful that he doesn’t have to finish his sentence.
09. the tower and the throne
The cold greets you like a scorned lover— a spiteful, savage mistress. Tendrils of frost creep along the walls of your old bedroom to caress your cheeks. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, sitting on familiar satin sheets.
“Dinner is soon, darling,” your mother’s cool voice calls from outside your bedroom door, “and make yourself presentable — we’ve got guests.”
The sadistic lilt of her voice as she says the word ‘guests’ makes you jerk your head up, staring at the door as if you might be able to bore through the thick wood with nothing but your eyes. And, almost as if she can feel you staring, you hear your mother’s cold, tinkling laughter.
“Hurry now… I had your favorite dress put out for you. It should still fit — and we don’t want to keep them… waiting.”
The slow, sanguine pause before her last word makes you want to rip out your hair and scream into the wind till your voice gives out.
Instead, you push yourself up and reach for the dress laid out at the foot of your bed with shaking fingers.
The dress fits you like a second skin, the delicate lace trim barely sweeping the floor as you adjust the bodice, grimacing at your reflection in the large, floor-length mirror. It is as if the last ten months had never happened, as if you’d never escaped this terrifying hellscape of a winter wonderland. As if you’d simply dreamed every single sun-filled afternoon, every star-strewn night spent laughing and singing amongst your new-found crew.
Here, in the fragile glass reflection, you are once again a girl trapped behind her own ribcage, with a destiny carved into stone and ice, with no hope of summer in sight. You take a long breath and tighten the ribbons of your dress.
You are still and silent as the maid slips in through the door after a single knock and begins to twist up your hair. Tighter and tighter, till it sets your teeth on edge. When she pins the crown in place, it takes everything inside you not to fall apart, to shatter at the weight, the sight of it sitting on your head. You swallow as the maid dips her head and backs out of the room with a murmured dinner is served, Princess.
For the first time, you wince openly at her words.
10. waiting for the rain
The hall is just how you remembered it, huge and cavernous, gaping like the empty maw of some petrified monster, the ceiling hanging with so many cold, sparkling chandeliers, ice-carved statues jutting up from the floors like teeth.
You’re marched in like a show animal, the great marble doors swinging open before you as you step forward and feel your breath freeze in your chest.
There, strung up on a massive statue of some long-forgotten saint, is Zoro, cuts and bruises marring his already scarred and puckered torso. But he smirks as he sees you come in, his eyes bright as he spits a mouthful of blood onto the seemingly endless white floors. Around him, the rest of your crew sits, tied and slumped over in chairs like so many sleeping mannequins.
“Hey there, Princess. Just in time for dinner.”
You nearly wince at the raspiness in his voice, the faint trickle of blood that leaks out the corner of his mouth.
“Silence,” your father’s voice echoes out from the high-backed chair at the head of the ludicrously long table. You don’t have to see to know his face is as smooth as just-applied plaster. But Zoro only has eyes for you — and he continues to talk as if he hadn’t been interrupted.
“If you’d told us we’d be welcomed like this, we might’ve packed differently.”
You bite down on your bottom lip so hard you almost taste the metallic tang of blood.
“Our daughter has always been a skillful liar — though it’s a habit we tried to… rid her of in her youth. The lesson never seemed to have stuck.” Your mother this time. And now, you can see the muscle ticking in Zoro’s jaw as he scoffs.
“Really? And here I always thought she was shit at lying.”
You swallow down a whimper as the maid wordlessly leads you to the far end of the table, where Zoro is still tied. You drop into the seat between a snoring Luffy and an eerily still Nami, and it’s all you can do not to turn around and retch onto the silk embroidered rug.
“Be that as it may…�� your mother’s voice drops a few degrees — an admirable feat, as her voice is usually just on the other side of frigid, “it’s bad luck to kill on the eve of a royal wedding.”
At this, Zoro’s head snaps around and you shrink back in your chair, your eyes fixed on your fists, clenched in your lap.
“Mother,” you grind out, finally forcing your head up so as to meet her piercing, blizzard-bright gaze, “I’ve told you, I’ve no intention of getting married. At least not to the mongrel you’ve decided to set me up with.”
You spit out the last sentence, trying to remember all the snark, all the confidence that’d built up inside you over the past weeks and months. Away from this dreaded castle and on the sun-soaked bow of the Going Merry, it was the first time you’d begun to discover who you are — the things you liked, the ways of life that you yearned for.
Your father slams a hand on the table at the same moment that Zoro lets out a bark of laughter.
“Insolence!”
“Damn, Princess — you never told me you could bite.”
And, to your horror and perhaps deep-seated pleasure, a blush works its way into your cheeks at Zoro’s words. Your eyes snap towards him, catching his gaze as he smirks at you. And even though his shirt is slashed, his sword hilts hanging woefully empty at this hip, his hands twisted painfully behind him on the statue, he still manages an easy, condescending air.
You seize at this tiny tendril of normalcy as you force a wane smile.
“I might be persuaded to do more than that… if you ask nicely.”
Zoro’s snicker is drowned out by your mother’s sharp gasp. But you don’t look away, holding Zoro’s gaze for as long as you dare — in it, you find an entire abyss of barely concealed rage (and is that… amusement?), his entire body straining against the shackles that hold him. Then, his eyes slip from you to a point just over your shoulder.
It’s then that you realize: Luffy’s not snoring anymore.
11. to reap and to sow
You’re never quite certain of how the Merry’s crew seems to always just wriggle out of frankly gruesome and untimely deaths, but here you are, racing for the docks like your lives depended on it. Because, well, it kind of does.
“Remind me —” you shout between pants, one hand clutched firmly in Zoro’s, the other doing its best to lift the ridiculous dinner dress they’d put you in — a confection of lace and tulle, the bodice laced with pale pink satin ribbon, “how the hell did you guys manage to trick my parents into thinking you’d eaten the spiked food?”
Sanji flashes you a toothy grin, “Ah love… you know how it is — ask us no questions, and we’ll tell you no lies!”
Luffy, however, whoops as he launches himself from a pair of solid brick buildings, catapulting himself over your sprinting crew.
“We just — pretended to eat! I mean — I did kinda actually eat a bit — but — it wasn’t that bad!”
You resist the urge to pinch your nose bridge at the nonchalance with which Luffy is talking about consuming poisoned food, but you’ve only got two hands and both are equally occupied at the moment. You settle for an exasperated sigh.
“That was — really stupid! — What if — they’d — poisoned the food — with something — other than — sleeping medicine?!” you ask, forcing air into your lungs as finally, you all round the bend onto the bustling pier, the Going Merry’s unmistakable shape silhouetted against the misty horizon.
“We can talk when — we’re all back — on the ship!” Nami calls as she sprints passed you, reaching out a hand for Luffy, who’s elongated arm grabs her and slings her onto the deck of the ship. You barely have a second to breathe before Zoro’s arm loops around your waist and you’re being pulled tight into his side.
His breath is hot against your collarbone as he smirks, “Hold on tight, Princess.”
It’s all you can do to listen as you’re suddenly whipped through the air like a doll on a drunken marionette’s string. A bright peal of Luffy-tinted laughter later, you thud onto the deck of the Going Merry, the breath knocked clean from your lungs as the world spins and spins. You’d expected to hit solid wood, or maybe even the railing or the mast but —
Zoro groans beneath you, and it takes you a long second to realize that he’d cushioned your fall, your bodies pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders, his still steady around your waist.
“O-oh! Sorry —” you try to pull away but Zoro’s grip on you only tightens.
You freeze as he blinks up at you, eyes slightly narrowed.
“Crown’s crooked,” Zoro finally says, that tell-tale smirk twisting the edge of his lips as his gaze flickers upwards. Your hand jumps to the crown, somehow still clipped into your now disheveled hair, lopping to one side as the braids start to come loose. You purse your lips.
“I never liked it anyway…” You make to tug it out but Zoro reaches up to right it, though he lets his hand linger as he falls along the side of your face.
“Nah, looks good on you.” His voice is so low, and suddenly, air is such a language that you’re certain you’d forgotten how to speak. Slowly, he pushes up till you’re both sitting, you still pressed against him and him still pressed against you. Distantly, you can hear shouting, Usopp’s voice raised high over the wind as the Merry careens out of port and towards the open sea.
But strangely, no one makes to pull you away from him, or him from you.
“I should’ve told you guys…” you say, eyes casting down as you rest your palms against his chest. Beneath it, you can feel his heart — pounding, pounding, pounding. There’s a light sheen of sweat glimmering on his honeyed skin as you swallow, looking back up even as he chuckles.
“Sure, but we should’ve asked.”
You bite your lips, “I think you did.”
Zoro grins, shrugging as he helps you up, somehow managing to keep his arm slipped around your waist.
“Well. Should’ve asked better, then.”
12. lost stars
It takes you a while to tell them the story — the real story, the whole story. And there’s drinking involved, but it’s mostly just you clutching at your half-filled glass, Zoro’s knee pressed comfortingly against yours, even though his eyes are closed, his head leaned back, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.
You tell them about the dark underbelly of royalty that everyone knows but no one wants to talk about — the blood and teeth beneath the silk and silver. You tell them about being raised a bargaining chip, of being sold and promised like a prized heifer on auction day.
You tell them about the moonless nights when the only thing you had to keep you company was the cold, about the “lessons” your mother would teach you, about how the maids would be instructed to hide the bruises just so, about the Prince who you were set to marry and the rumors that plagued his castle —
“They say that he’d take the prettiest girls from the surrounding town as his maids and that none of them ever walked out of his castle again,” you say. The moonshine burns on its way down your throat as you finish your drink.
Wordlessly, Zoro reaches over to pluck the glass from your hand and set it on the table. It’s only then that you realize your fingers are white and trembling.
“Did he hurt you?”
Zoro’s voice is not loud, but everyone turns to look at him. You shake your head, clasping your hands in your lap.
“No. I only ever… met him once, at a dinner party. It was after that that I… ran away.”
Zoro hums, leaning back again, “Good.”
Across the room, Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings and frowns.
“Were you about to offer to hunt him down?” Robin asks, sounding amused.
Zoro shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered — would’ve just done it.”
“He sounds like the kinda guy we should hunt down anyway, no?” Luffy asks, cocking his head as he looks back at you, “I mean, I’m glad he never hurt you but… he’s still hurting people!”
“Luffy’s got a point,” Sanji says, stubbing out his cigarette.
“For once, I agree with Sanji,” Nami says.
There’s a light squabble during which Sanji makes an aggrieved noise and Nami rolls her eyes, and then everyone is laughing and chatting and more drinks are being poured. Next to you, Zoro reaches out to wrap his arm around your waist again. It’s something he’s been doing more lately, and you can’t honestly say that you mind it much at all.
“We don’t have to,” he says, leaning forward, almost as if to brush his lips by your ear, “if… if you don’t want to.”
You shiver at the base rumble of his voice, at the way his eyes are so warm and full of some uncertain promise.
“No, I… I do want to. It’s just…”
Zoro’s fingers trace small, absent-minded circles into the skin of your waist and you fight down another shiver.
“I don’t plan on letting you get kidnapped again, Princess.”
Your gaze snaps up to meet Zoro’s, and there’s a faint smile kissing the line of his lips. And suddenly, the lightness of his touch doesn’t feel so thoughtless as heat curls out from the place where his palm meets your skin, radiating out till you’re breathless with it.
“Oh?”
“Never liked people trying to take what’s mine.”
And the dark possessiveness with which he says mine leaves little room for interpretation, even as you lick your lips and try to think of something witty to say.
“I don’t remember agreeing to be yours.”
It’s the best you can come up with; Zoro’s only response is a soft, contemplative grunt.
“What’s that saying? ‘Actions speak louder than words’?” he flashes you a satisfied grin as you narrow your eyes at him, swatting at his chest as he laughs.
“I meant it though,” he says, a moment later, as the rest of the crew all chatter around you, “about calling it off if you don’t want to. But…” he reaches up a free hand to tug a strand of your hair free from the ponytail it’s tied up in.
“Figured you might sleep better at night knowing he’s gone.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding, your whole body softening as you lean into him, pressing your palms to his chest as he looks at you.
“Yeah… I think I might. And… like you said… it’s not like I’m gonna get kidnapped again.”
You smile, letting your eyes flicker down to Zoro’s lips. His smile is pleased and just a little jagged as he tugs you up by the hand and the pair of you slip from the room.
Above deck, the sun is setting, and the warm, slanted light casts the entire ship in a glaze of gold that looks almost gilded. You lean against the railings, closing your eyes and letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin, chasing away the chill that’d been lingering at your fingertips since you’d all made your spectacular escape from your home island.
You feel rather than hear Zoro join you. You take your time breathing in the salty tang of the humid sea air before opening your eyes and slating him a side-long look.
“Thank you,” you say.
“For what?”
“For coming after me.”
Zoro scoffs, turning away from the roiling waves to lean back against the railings, his head cocked as he looks you over.
“Like I said… I don’t like it when people try to take what’s mine.”
But this time, you laugh, nodding, “So you’ve said. But still… thanks.”
“Hn.”
Zoro closes his eyes, seemingly enjoying the last vestiges of the setting sun as it sinks ever-lower along the horizon. Then, he opens one eye to peer at you.
“Though I’ve been meaning to ask —”
“Hm?”
“What’s this about doing more than biting… if asked about it nicely enough?”
You try to duck your head but Zoro catches your chin in his fingers.
“I — I just… knew it would piss off my mother if she —”
“Mm, sounded like more than that to me.”
Your breath hitches as Zoro’s thumb traces a rough line along your bottom lip.
“How about… I show you?” and the offer is barely out of your mouth before Zoro is kissing you, his mouth seeking out yours with a soft groan that betrays all the lightness in his touch as he trails his free hand down your arm to pull hard at your waist.
And it’s not the first time you’ve kissed. It’s not even the first time a kiss with Zoro has become more than just a kiss, though you’d always been careful before to make sure that he knew (though thinking back, it might’ve just been an ill-fated attempt at lying to yourself) that the pleasure shared between bodies was just that — pleasure and bodies.
But this — this kiss becomes, and becomes.
It becomes breath and heartbeats, pleasure and heat. It becomes truth and promises and the tantalizing taste of fairy-tale endings.
“Z-Zoro…”
“Yes Princess?”
You hiss as his teeth grazes along your pulse point and your fingers fist in his hair.
“Y’know…” your voice comes out as nothing more than a soft pant as Zoro tugs you over to one of the reclining chairs beneath the orange trees and pulls you over his hips, “I’ve never liked being called that but…”
“But?” his thumbs inch beneath the material of your shirt, circling your hipbones as he smirks up at you.
“I don’t mind it when it’s you.”
Zoro’s grin goes wide and wolfish. Above him, the first stars spark into being as the sun finally sinks beyond the far horizon. For a second, his smile softens as he reaches up to toy with the end of the pale pink ribbon in your hair. Then, he gives it a single, solid tug, and your hair falls open around your shoulders, tumbling down in waves.
Zoro leans up to press a light kiss to the blood-stained satin before letting it flutter off in the wind, twisting into the rapidly darkening night.
“Good… cause I ain’t about to let anyone else call you that either.”
1K notes · View notes
gojonanami · 2 months
Text
❝ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 ? ❞
Tumblr media
❝ ALL THESE PEOPLE THINK LOVE'S FOR SHOW, BUT I WOULD DIE FOR YOU IN SECRET ! ❞
Tumblr media
✧ pairing: suguru geto x sorcerer! reader
✧ summary: suguru's birthday spent with you is like a dream -- the perfect day spent in bliss, but what happens when the dream has to come to an end?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, jjk compliant au (reader is a sorcerer), domesticity, cuddling, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), improper massage technique, some angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc / geto's defection),
✧ wc: 3,015
Tumblr media
The first thing Suguru felt were fingertips brushing against his cheek.
“Morning, birthday boy,” you murmured, and his almost violet eyes fluttered still half within the grasp of the sandman, and it didn’t help you looked as if you were the thing of dreams — your body clad only in his white button down, hair askew from your late night with him, and eyes filled with utter love and devotion, “finally waking up? Because I have a whole day planned for you,” 
His lips curl despite the sleep that weighed on his eyelids, a hum leaving his lips, as his fingers find you, even with his eyes closed — just as he always could, his fingers curling around your wrist, as he expertly tugged you and wrapped his arms around you. You were caged in around his limbs, pressed to his chest with barely any space to move, you’d be scared, if wasn’t exactly where you wanted to be. 
You sigh, burying your face in his chest, lips brushing the skin of his bare chest, “Sugu, come on, we can’t laze all day, I have a nice breakfast planned, and we’re having lunch with Satoru, Shoko, and Nanami later, and I have a million other nice things planned — none of which we can do if you don’t get out of bed,” 
“But you forgot something,” it’s his turn to sigh, as he shifts his face to rest against your neck, nose nearly tickling the skin there, as his lips press butterfly kisses, dotted like constellations along your neck and collarbone — as if he find the all the universe had to offer between the space of your neck and shoulder, “my favorite thing to do is right here,” 
You roll your eyes at the innuendo, a knowing smirk on his lips, one you didn’t need to see to know it was there — it was done against your neck after all, “If I recall, we did plenty of your favorite thing last night, and it’s the reason you’re probably so tired right now,” 
His fingers begin to toy with the buttons of his shirt that you’d stolen, “Well, they say you can never have too much of a good thing, after all,” 
“Oh, is that so?” and his lips find yours again to swallow your next retort, his lips gliding against yours and he can taste the coffee you had just had, the bitter taste mixed with your sweet tongue, that flicked not so sweetly against the seam of his lips. 
“You said I could have anything I want today,” he murmurs, beginning to undo the buttons one by one, as he revealed your body to his eyes — a twitch in his boxers as he realized you wore not a single thing underneath, “well right, all I want is you, for breakfast,” 
Your cheeks burn, thighs pressed together, his words sending a rush of heat down to your still aching cunt, “Sugu—” but his lips find yours again, his fingers busy with teasing your nipples — rolling both between his pointer finger and thumb, “fuck, baby—” 
“Gotta enjoy my meal baby,” his lips burn a trail of kisses down your body, his lips curling around your tit, his teeth grazing and teasing one and then the other, drawing a whimper from your lips, as he pulls his mouth away with a pop, “it’s the most important meal, and I have to start my birthday right, don’t I?” 
And his hands drag down your sides, large calloused fingers squeezing your hips, as he lifts your legs to hook around his shoulders, his dark gaze devouring the sight of your pretty cunt glistening with your slick, before his mouth and tongue would. 
His lips warm your outer lips, as his fingers tease your puffy little clit, pinching it, “Still swollen from last night,” his lips curl as you yelp in surprise, with a glare shot his way, that rolls into the back of your head as he buries his face in your sweet pussy. His nose grinds against your clit deliciously, as his tongue collects the pre already drenching you, humming at the taste — how was it that you were truly his favorite thing he tasted? You weren’t exactly sweet down there, but you were the only dessert he wanted (he’d leave the actual sugar to Satoru), “seems like you wanted this too by the way you’re leaking down here, my shirt and sheet is even wet,” he teases, making you cover your face in embarrassment, “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he smiles up at you with his slick covered lips and dripping chin, “I’ll clean you up.” 
Tumblr media
“You don’t have to do this for me,” Suguru says, but you only shake your head, meeting his gaze in the mirror, with a roll of your eyes. 
“I want to do this for you,” as your fingers continue to comb his dark locks, finger twirling one strand between his fingers, “plus this is more for me than you, you never let me play with your hair at Jujutsu Tech,” you pouted, and he snorts. 
“First, you said ‘play,’ not do, and second, do you forget the first and only time I let you, Shoko, and Satoru do my hair?” and you stifle a laugh, badly disguised as a cough, as you lips part to answer, “don’t lie, I know you guys use it as your group chat photo,” 
“I only wanted to put clips and a scrunchie in your hair — dying your hair was all Satoru—” and his sharp look cuts you off, as you relent, before running your fingers through his hair, and easing another knot from his locks, “well isn’t this nice though?” and he nods, after your lips graze the edge of his hairline, “we’re almost done and you can tie your hair up after,” you hum. 
“Do you like my long hair?” and he meets your curious gaze in your reflection, “I mean, i decided to grow it out after we graduated, but I was wondering if you ever thought I should cut it,” 
You purse your lips, scrutinizing him in contemplation, “I love your hair either way, but you were always so meticulous about cutting it the same length, so why did you decide to grow it out?” His eyes fall to his lap, and he swallows, “you don’t have to—” you say softly, and his fingers find yours, squeezing. 
“I want to,” he echoes, as he bites his lip, “I heard when I was a kid that hair holds memories, and ever since Amanai and Haibara…I don’t want to ever forget them,” and he toys with a strand between his fingers, “And by keeping my hair longer, it feels like I can hold onto that, onto them,” he says softly, and you nod, “I know it’s not logical—”
“Not everything has to be logical, not everything has to have a reason,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck, “sometimes things can just be a thing you do — but either way, if you cut your hair or keep it long, I don’t think you’ll ever forget those two, and neither would they — ever,” and he turns to meet your lips in a slow kiss, your fingers ghosting his cheek, before you finally part, “come on, get dressed, we’re going to be late.” 
~~~~
“You told me he liked strawberry sponge and cream cake,” you punched Satoru in the shoulder, who takes it if only to appease you, with a pout, “you said that’s what he wanted this year, you blue eyed freak,” 
“It is! How was I supposed to know he’d lie to me?” 
“You know him for how many years and you can’t tell it was a lie?” 
“You’re his partner, you don’t know what cake he likes—” 
Suguru rubs his forehead, as you and Satoru continue to bicker, as he pulls a lighter out, and offers to light Shoko’s cigarette, as she leans on the windowsill of one of the open windows, “Those two never grow up do they?” and Suguru snorted, leaning against the wall next to her, facing the spectacle you and Satoru were making,  “why did you say strawberry cake?” 
“Because it’s both of their favorites,” his eyes slide to those two as Satoru used his infinity only to infuriate you, “I always had thought those two would have made a better match,” 
He feels Shoko’s eyes slide to him, “She loves you, not Satoru,” and his eyes find yours, just as they always did, and you smile the one smile he always hoped would be reserved for only him. 
“I know.” 
Tumblr media
“Did we have to stay that long?” Suguru sighs, pulling off his jacket, “who slipped alcohol into Satoru’s plastic cup anyway?” and your pause gives it away, as he glances at you, pulling off your shoes, “sweetheart, you know he can’t handle his alcohol,” 
“Well someone should’ve handled their job right then,” and he laughs, as he walks over to wrap his arms around you, as you grumble, “you ask Mr. Six Eyes to do something — and he can’t even see through a lie, so are we really buying that he actually has them—” 
And his lips find yours again, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull you closer, “I believe you owe me a present still,” he kisses down your neck, and he feels you melt into his touch, your fingers splaying on his shoulders, “and I know exactly what I want,” 
“Well, I may have gotten you something a little different,” your lips curl. 
“A massage?” he raises an eyebrow, as you strip him down to his boxers on the bed, a few towels underneath him as you warmed the massage oil with your hands. He heard the squish and squelch of your fingers, and he felt his dick twitch, the noise sounding like something else. 
“You don’t relax enough, this way, I can help you relax a little,” you hum, as you stand beside him, “can I start?” and he bites his lip, but nods. 
“Go ahead, princess,” and you do — Suguru didn’t realize how many knots he had in his back, the muscles stiff and immovable at first, until you begin to work away at the bundles of stress he had accumulated. A moan slips from his lips as he feels the stress ebb away, a blush burning up his cheeks, “Sorry,” 
“No complaints here, baby,” you giggle. God, he was so fucking hot like this. His muscles were glistening with the oil, each muscle becoming more relaxed under your touch, the little grunts and groans that left his lips left another knot, but this one was in your cunt.
Suguru couldn’t help let these moans escape his lips, you were making him feel so good, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to move after this, his body far too limp. Or so he thought. Your hands were traveling lower and lower, until they brushed against the waistband of his boxers, and he shivers, “Sweetheart,” 
“What? You carry stress here too, and as your masseuse, I have to do a good job right?” you hum, “as long as my client permits me,” 
And he bites his lip, “I’ll permit anything from you, baby,” 
You don’t need any more words, as your fingers pull at the boxers, tugging the fabric down to reveal his ass, your fingers first ghosting over the flesh teasingly, before beginning to massage it. 
Fuck, now he was fully hard, his dick rubbing against the mattress — thank god you put down towels — as you worked out the knots in his gluteus muscle, but he didn’t know if you were helping him relax or not, because he never had felt more stiff. And it doesn’t escape your notice. 
You hum, “Maybe we need a different method,” your finger traces up and down your spine, “would my client mind turning over for me?” 
“Princess—” 
“Just one more thing to help you relax,” and he relents, turning over, to reveal the tent in his boxers, still drawn over his front, and your eyes fall to his cock, “and I see where all the stress has gone,” you tsk, as you climb onto the bed, straddling his waist, drawing a gasp from his lips, “poor baby,  all worked up still?” Your fingers traces his clothed head, a large wet patch that assuredly wasn’t massage oil, “I think I can relax you.” 
He’s biting his lip as he watches you tug down his boxers, fabric dragging against his erection as you do, slapping against his stomach, “Sweetheart—“ 
“Just let me do this for you, baby,” you murmur as you clean your hands with a rag and instead smear the beads of precum along his length, drawing a groan from his lips, “so sensitive for me, Sugu, been wanting me since morning haven’t you?” You hum, as you begin to work his cock with your hand, lips leaning down to press a kiss to his weeping tip, “it’s only fair if I get to taste you too — after all, I may have been your breakfast, but you’re my dessert,” 
And your lips wrap around his length, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, and tasting his salty precum. He groans, the noise burning a trail to your cunt, “s’good for me,” you murmured against him, as you took as much of him as you could, taking the rest in your hands.
His fingers weave into your hair, hips lightly bucking into your mouth, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, and you manage to suppress your gag reflex, “shit, sorry—“ but you cut off his apology by licking a thick stripe up one of his veins, before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, “fuck, Princess, I’m close—I—“ and your fingers toy with his balls and your mouth redoubles his efforts, until he’s cumming down your throat with your name on his lips, his thick load painting your mouth and throat, as you swallow it eagerly. 
He flutter open, only to watch you pull your swollen lips from his length, strings of spit and cum still connecting you to his cock, before you wipe it away, “don’t worry baby,” you lean down to lick the beads of cum dripping from his tip, his hips jerking, “I’ll clean you up,” 
And after you get him all cleaned up, the two of you are in bed again, tucked up next to each other — Suguru was completely boneless, as you climb into bed beside him, “you okay baby?” 
He nods, smile on his lips, “More than okay after that,” he murmurs, lips finding yours, and then he pulls away with a pause, “but I didn’t get you off, baby,” and his forehead furrows as you chuckle. 
“Worry about that tomorrow, baby. I think you need some sleep now,” you crawl into his arms, your head pressed against his chest, you were so warm pressed against him, “got all I need right here,” you murmur, before you ask, “did you have a good birthday?” 
“I always do,” his fingers graze your cheek, as his eyes flutter shut, “always when I’m with you, Princess,” 
The first thing he feels, again, are soft fingers against his cheek, his eyes heavy with sleep, flutter open, as his brain catches with his body. 
“Master Geto? Master Geto?” His eyes finally flutter open to find Nanako and Mimiko at his bedside. 
He rubs at his eyes, as he stares at a ceiling for a moment, as he lets the haunting feel of your body slip from him — for a moment, he had let himself believe it was real — that you were with him, that he was still with you — all of you. 
“Happy Birthday, Master Geto,” they both intone together, and his gaze slides back to find the girls’ holding a birthday cake box. He blinks a moment, before he realizes. 
“Thank you both,” he sigh, sitting up, and even though he knows, he asks the question anyway, “it was left at the doorstep of the compound?” 
“Yes, the same one, the one that’s always left for you,” Mimiko answers as Nanako hands him the box, and he slips off the twine and opens the box to reveal a strawberry and cream sponge cake, “I didn’t know Master Geto even liked strawberry cake,” 
And he chuckles, as he stares at the cske, the residuals unbidden and clear as day who had left it — who had always left it, “I don’t but it was the favorite of two people very important to me before — you know I don’t care for sweets,” 
“I thought you didn’t care for sweets made by monkeys,” Nanako said, typing on her phone, before she snaps a picture or two of the cake, “why is this an exception?” 
“Because one of those special people baked it, and she’s a sorcerer,” and you always had — every year without fail. He didn’t even know how you had found him — he didn’t tend to stay in one place for too long, but you always did. 
As he lifts the cske out and hands it to the girls, “go slice it up and have a piece,” he smiles, “I’ll take care of the box,” and they nod, as Mimiko takes the cake while Nanako walks out staring at her phone still. 
It wasn’t the cake that he found special, but the card that was hidden at the bottom. It was nothing special — always a random card picked out with a birthday message printed on the outside — but no, what was special was the note you wrote. 
My favorite treat for my favorite birthday boy — I hope you have a good birthday — with your name signed below. 
His fingers twirled a strand of his hair, still far too long, as he traced your name with his finger. He hadn’t had a really good birthday — not without you. 
But, he opened the drawer of his bedside table, placing the card inside with the others, at least he could dream of one. 
Tumblr media
✧ a/n: i've been hopping between my sukuna fic and prof geto 3, but i was bouncing back and forth between whether i wanted to write this or not, but i just had to for suguru - man has claimed a sweet spot. thank you to the anon who's idea i put on a spin on and @biancaness, who provided the massage idea :). this is also for @gaylatteart because their birthday is tomorrow, the day after suguru's. thank you bb for being so wonderful and congrats on doing the thing - i'm super proud of you!!
✧ taglist: @foxygemin1, @honeyangelsblog, @biancaness, @rwtard, @strangehuman101, @serendididy, @i-love-the8, @ririthedevil, @linastired, @bsaeshell, @jaceum, @going-to-californiaxx, @dontshuugo, @diogodxlot, @coffeebun17, @slikdolliy, @spider-fan72, @sophistication-as, @get0sfav, @klynne, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @heijihattorisgf, @teatreeoilll, @el172736738, @nem0philistx, @strawmariee, @mysuperrainbow
2K notes · View notes