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#she's been waiting so long to do this to him
luveline · 2 days
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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll
ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k
Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 
But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  
Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 
“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 
“I’m thinking.” 
“Aren’t you always?” 
“About you.”
“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 
“You’re truly humble.” 
His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 
Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 
“Is everything okay?” he asks. 
“Fine.” 
You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 
“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 
“I’m not traumatised.” 
“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 
He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 
Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 
You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 
He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 
“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 
“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 
“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 
“What did he say to you?” 
You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 
“Did he call you that?” 
“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 
“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 
“You’re flirting with me.” 
“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 
He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 
“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 
You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 
“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 
“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 
Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 
The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 
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goldustwomun · 2 days
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bags (s.h.)
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?
warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!
wc: 2.2k+
note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)
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Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags
You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.
Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.
You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.
It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.
And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.
“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.
Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.
“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.
So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.
He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.
He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.
The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.
And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.
“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.
“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.
“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"
His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”
“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”
“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.
“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.
“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”
And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”
He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”
You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.
“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—
“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.
“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.
“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.
His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”
“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.
“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.  
“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.
“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.
“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal.  “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.
He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”
He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.
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as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3
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eiightysixbaby · 1 day
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hi there! i'm OBSESSED with your eddie works and I had a lil request for u!
(if this is out of your comfort zone, I totally get btw, i'm just actually hormonal rn)
thinking about reader and eddie while she's ovulating and absolutely, positively feral... maybe they've only been together for a little while and they've fucked before, but he's never really seen that side of her... idk i'm just thinking a lot of thoughts rn
thanks! 💞
hi angel! thank you so much!!! 🥹🫶🏻 i hope i did your request justice 🩵
18+ only plssss. fem!reader, unprotected piv
The clock ticks obnoxiously where it hangs on the wall, marking each passing second that won’t pass fast enough.
It’s not unusual for a shift at the library to go slowly, but today time feels like it’s trudging through thick molasses; barely crawling by. Or maybe it’s just going backwards at this point, who knows.
You chew at the cap of your pen, reading the same sentence of the novel in front of you over and over yet not fully comprehending it. Trying to ignore the desperate ache between your thighs, the heat that pools in the pit of your stomach. It had been a relentless desire for the last couple of hours, a hunger that couldn’t be sated just yet.
But the promise of seeing your boyfriend after work had you chewing-through-your-leash desperate for your shift to end. You know Eddie had a nice dinner planned for the two of you tonight, but all you can think about is how badly you need his hands on you. It makes you feel bad, but you can’t rid yourself of thoughts of his lips on your neck, his fingers splitting you open, your hips grinding against him. This always happens when you’re ovulating, only this time… you’re not hiding it.
The last couple of times, you’d made do with your vibrator at home; embarrassed to let Eddie see this side of you. Your relationship was still quite new, and you weren’t sure if ripping his clothes off any chance you got would scare him away or not. This time, though? You can’t hold back any longer.
The end of your shift arrives at long last, and you practically fling yourself from your receptionist chair. You gather your belongings with haste, throwing everything into your shoulder bag before hightailing it out the door. Your keys jangle as you fumble with them, searching for the correct one to unlock your car. Eddie will be expecting you, although maybe not expecting you in the state that you’re in.
It doesn’t take long to get to the trailer park, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to provide even the smallest amount of friction as you drive along familiar roads. Your car is barely in park before you’re killing the engine, ascending the few steps to his trailer door and swinging it open without a knock to alert anyone inside. Wayne isn’t home anyway, so really what do you need to knock for?
Eddie’s frame appears in his bedroom doorway down the small hallway, his face brightening at the sight of you. You feel like you’re sweating just looking at him, your clothes suddenly too tight as the space between your thighs vibrates with need.
“Hey, baby. I didn’t expect you so soon, did you fly over here?” Eddie asks, a lighthearted joke, but he’s not far from the truth.
You don’t even answer him, slipping off your shoes before you’re trodding down the hallway, throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him.
“Baby, what’s—” he starts to speak, only for you to cut him off with a hot kiss to his lips. His voice dies against your mouth, fizzling into a soft whimper as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth.
“Missed you so bad,” you murmur. Your nervousness over how he’d react is tossed out the window, unwilling to wait any longer. “And I’ve been wanting you all fucking day,” you ramble, kissing him between words. “I need you,” you plead, letting a hand fumble with his belt buckle.
He makes a sound that’s halfway between a gasp and a laugh, kissing you before speaking. “Do you not want to go to dinner?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.
“I do,” you admit with a pout. “But I need you right now.” Your hands are on a mission, palming him urgently through denim as if he might disappear any second, never to be touchable again.
The corner of his mouth twitches up in a soft smirk, his thumbs rubbing over your hipbones where his hands hold them.
“I’ve never seen you this needy, sweetheart,” he teases you, brushing his lips across the shell of your ear before he bites at the lobe. “But I like it.”
You whine at this, the slightest touch, and he breathes a quiet laugh.
“Please, Eddie, don’t tease,” you beg as he noses your chin up, kissing at your neck.
He doesn’t listen, taking his time trailing kisses down your soft skin and letting his hands wander but never close enough to where you need him. You can feel yourself dripping, making a mess of your panties. His big hands squeeze your ass, taking greedy handfuls. You let out a moan, louder than you’d intended, earning the nip of his teeth against your skin. Taunting.
You’re riled up, frustrated beyond belief, huffing where you stand before you decide you’ve had enough.
You press your hands to his chest, pushing him off of you. He’s surprised by the action, giving you the opportunity to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him over to his bed and letting him fall onto the mattress. He sits on the edge of it, looking up at you equal parts dumbfounded and turned on. Your hands hurriedly undo the hefty buckle on his belt, unzipping his jeans as you start to straddle his lap. His cock is throbbing, leaking as it lays in waiting in your hand once you retrieve it from its confines.
“Told you not to tease,” you say. His big brown eyes roam over your face, his pretty lips parted just slightly in a state of awe. “I need you to fuck me. Now.”
“Yes ma’am,” he obeys, but it’s less him doing the work and more you taking control.
You ruck your skirt up, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side and lining yourself up with his cock, sliding slowly down onto the length of him. Your name escapes his lips as his leaves yours, already starting to rock your hips against his.
He holds you firmly in place on his lap, guiding your movements to the best of his ability. The stretch he provides you with is delicious, exactly what you’d been craving, the entirety of him filling you up perfectly.
“You’re so fucking soaked, baby,” he remarks, bringing one hand up to briefly run through his messy curls, his cheeks already flushed pink. “Feel bad you had to wait so long for me while you’ve been this worked up.”
He’s teasing you, kind of. Pitying you in a way that only makes you ache further. You bounce faster on him, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. He’s cursing under his breath as you’re fucking yourself on his length, riding him with a fervor and determination he hasn’t seen from you yet. He finds it hotter than he’d have ever expected, seeing you in such a state, and it’s taking everything he has not to finish early.
Lucky for him you aren’t far behind, desperate to cum after waiting all day. He lets one of his thumbs lazily circle your clit, sensing your desire to let go in the way your brows furrow in concentration.
Strings of moans tumble from your mouth, curse after curse of his name as you quicken your pace. Your head tips back, pure ecstasy coursing through you as you take what you want from him unashamedly. The rough pad of his finger on your clit makes you feel like you’re on fire, ablaze beneath his touch. His hips buck to meet your bounces, the tip of his cock pressing over and over against your sweet spot.
“Eddie—” you gasp, just as you fall apart on top of him. Your walls grip him like a vice, making him bite down on his lip.
He works you through your high, pulling out when he can’t possibly hold off his orgasm any longer. He pumps his cock in his fist a few times before he spills against your skin, cum dripping down your pussy.
Both panting, sweaty messes, you meet each other’s eyes and laugh.
“Feel better now, sweets?” he asks, lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss.
You break away momentarily, cradling his face in your hands. “You have no idea.”
He smiles. “Well, for what it’s worth, you have permission to use me whenever you need me.”
“Thank god,” you sigh, smiling against his cheek. “Cause I don’t think I’m done for the night.”
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sunniques · 3 days
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— 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !
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➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader
➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut
➺ SUMMARY: in which you find out your stepdad is as big of a freak as you are.
➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infedilty, age gap, daddy kink, drugging, having sex while someone else is in the same bed, nipple play, grinding, begging, breeding kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampies, overstimulation
➺ WC: 3.9k
NOTE: part two of PLF. don’t like, don’t read.
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You stare at your phone unseeingly, mindlessly scrolling through your timeline as you wait for time to go by. It’s late, and you know it’s only a matter of time for your mom’s new sleeping pills to take effect. You pout impatiently, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to soothe the ache between your legs.
Ever since you got a taste of Seungcheol’s cock, you had gotten addicted to it. So much that you didn’t care to go and take it even when your mom was home.
After two painfully long minutes, you decide that you’ve waited long enough and get out of bed. Your smirk is devious as you strip out of your favorite pajamas. Completely naked, you saunter down the hall to the master bedroom. Wetness smears between your thighs as you push the door open to reveal a sleeping couple on the large bed. Images of your stepdad fucking you like an animal in heat on that very bed has your pussy clenching.
You don’t try to be quiet as you walk over to Seungcheol’s side of the bed. The room is quiet even though your footsteps definitely weren’t. A satisfied smirk crosses your face when you realize your mom’s pills have taken effect. She’s usually such a light sleeper that any slight noise is enough to wake her. Bit just as you hoped, your mom had fallen into a deep sleep, completely unaware about what you were about to do.
Licking your lips, you crawl under the covers and immediately cozy up to your stepdad. You palm his big cock, slowly rubbing and squeezing it until it’s hard. Excitement courses through your veins as you attach your lips to Seungcheol’s neck. You place gentle kisses on his pulse point before they grow into needy licks and bites. Your movements grow eager and rougher as you grow more and more impatient.
“Daddy.” You whine, not caring that you sound desperately needy. “Wake up.”
And he does. Seungcheol’s soft laughter is deep and groggy and so damn attractive that it has you clenching around nothing. He goes to pull you closer and moans when he realizes you’re completely naked. His eyes are dark as he pushes your hand away to release his leaking cock from his sweats.
“My needy little brat wants her daddy balls deep inside her, huh?” He growls out as he lifts your leg to slide into you.
You both moan loudly when he sinks into your hot cunt. The feeling of his big dick stretching you out is has you crying out loudly as if your mom isn’t asleep right beside you. Not that you care. You know her new sleeping pills are working wonders in the best way.
“So fucking tight.” Seungcheol growls as he feels your arousal coat his cock.
He gently starts to thrust into you, still not sure how strong the sleeping pills are. As an impatient brat, you start to meet his thrusts, eyes rolling back as his tip hits your sweet spot. You whine as he grinds against you, his pelvis rubbing over your swollen clit just right. His balls smack against your ass with every hard thrust. The wet slapping sound of skin on skin just drives your arousal higher. 
Rutting into your body, your stepdad’s fat cock grinds against the spongy spot along the front of your cunt. Your juices gush from your pussy as he hammers against your g-spot so perfectly that you can’t help but squeeze him tighter and tighter. 
“Missed your cock, daddy.” You mewl out, already feeling the familiar knot in your stomach coming undone. “Missed you stretching me out like this.”
Seungcheol groans deeply at your words and changes the angles of his thrusts. It hasn’t been long since he last fucked you, but you’re so addicted that even going one day without his cock feels like torture. Not that he can blame you because he feels the same way. You feel him deeper with this new angle. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with every snap of his hips. Your hot cunt is becoming impossibly tight, and he can’t help but smirk because you’re already so close to cumming.
“Nasty little princess.” Your stepdad moans, no longer caring if his wife wakes up. In a sick way, he almost wishes that she would so she can see just how addicted you are to his cock. “So cockhungry that you don’t care if your mom wakes up and sees you fucking her husband in her bed.”
“Daddy, I’m gonna cum.” You groan filthily as Seungcheol continues to thrust inside you.
Your filthy moans mix in the heady air that smells of sex, and the sound of his balls slapping your ass becomes more erratic. His words push you over the edge. You babble out loud cries of daddy, daddy, daddy until a guttural moan spills from your throat, thighs quivering as your pussy clamps down on Seungcheol’s dick like a vice.
“Fuck. Just like that, baby.” Seungcheol moans as one of his hands trail down to squeeze your ass and help you fuck his cock. “Cream all over this cock. Making such a fucking mess.”
“Cum inside me, daddy.” You mewl out as your stepdad fucks you through your orgasm. “Stuff me full!”
You don’t say please, but Seungcheol doesn’t care. He wants the exact same thing. The thought of filling up his cute little stepdaughter while his wife is right next to him triggers his own orgasm. He cums with a loud roar of your name, shooting his hot load into your tight cunt. You lean forward to devour his moans, forcing your tongue into his mouth as he fucks his cum deeper inside you.
“So fucking good, daddy.” You groan against his lips.
Seungcheol gives you a filthy smirk, knowing that this is only the beginning of a long night.
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Seungcheol is livid. After many thrilling nights of fucking you raw and stupid, it all comes to an abrupt end when his wife decides her to stop taking her sleeping pills. Apparently, she doesn’t like how deeply she sleeps which has caused her to almost be late to work.
After an entire week of this, Seungcheol decides he’s had enough. On a night where he’s completely abandoned all his morals, he executes his plan. He plays the part of the sweet, doting husband well. With a kind smile, he brings his wife some warm milk in bed. She thanks him happily, sipping on it unsuspectingly. Seungcheol has to insist that she drink it all. He crushed three of her sleeping pills in the milk, and if he wants his plan to work he has to make sure she drinks every last drop.
They get into bed shortly after she finishes it all, and the minutes it takes for his wife to completely knock out feel like hours. Once she starts to snore, Seungcheol wastes no time in getting out of bed and walking down the hall to your bedroom. He leaves the door open after entering your room, a sick thrill going through him at the off chance that your mother could wake up and find him fucking you on your bed.
It looks like you’ve fallen asleep while on your phone, laying on top of your covers. He slowly takes off his clothes as he approaches your sleeping form, loving the switch in dynamic for a change. Seungcheol licks his lips as he crawls on your bed, cock already throbbing when he sees the skimpy nightie you have on. Fuck. It’s like you knew he was coming tonight.
You slowly stir when you feel someone hugging you from behind and a pair of big hands groping your tits. Something hard is poking your ass, and you immediately get wet when you realize what’s going on.
“You awake yet, princess?” Seungcheol coos against your ear, squeezing harder. “Daddy missed you so fucking much. I feel like I’ll go crazy if I don’t feel that tight little pussy wrapped around my dick right now.”
You mewl quietly when he pulls down the loose garment and tweaks your hardening nipples. Already, you can feel your panties sticking to your cunt as you start to squirm against your stepfather’s broad body.
“You’re more sensitive than usual, baby.” He purrs in your ear, pinching and pulling on your hard nipples over and over until you’re writhing against his stiffening cock. “Missed me that much?”
“Daddy.” You moan out as one of his hands trails down your body to tease your cunt.
“Fuck.” Seungcheol groans, fingers dipping underneath the band of your panties to rub your slit, gathering all your juices to rub your sensitive bud. “My little brat needs some relief, hm? Wants her daddy to fuck her raw until she’s dripping in cum?”
“Fuck yes!” You cry out, rutting against his hand.
Seungcheol grabs you and sits you up, cock throbbing when he sees the hunger in your gaze. He helps you straddle his lap, tugging your nightie off in one fluid movement. He groans at the sight of your pretty tits, nipples all sensitive and hard for him. Your stepdad grabs you by the waist and makes sure to place your clothed cunt directly over his aching cock. You both groan at the feeling.
“Want you to keep playing with my pussy, daddy.” The needy whimper you let out makes his entire body shudder. “Want you to keep being rough with my nipples until I can’t take it anymore.”
A low groan comes from deep in his chest, hands gripping you tighter as his cock throbs against your panty clad pussy. You kiss his jaw until you reach his pouty lips. All the desperation you feel is displayed when you smash your lips on his. You lick and suck on his tongue, messily forcing your own into his mouth after to have a taste of him.
Seungcheol feels drunk with arousal ass you rub your clothed pussy all over his leaking cock. His stomach is doing somersaults at the debouched way you grind on his hard cock. You’re so turned on and wet that your panties are completely see through now.
“God, princess.” Seungcheol moans as he pulls back, big hand moving up your body to grab your tits. His thumbs smooth over your hard nipples as your juices leak all over his cock. “You’re so fucking hot with these pretty nipples on display—all for me.”
With a wanton whine, you grind harder on his cock, desperate to have it inside you. Seungcheol smirks as he tugs and pinches your nipples until you’re whimpering and clawing at his broad shoulders. To have you on top of him, writhing like a bitch in heat is so hot that he thinks he should record it so he can save it for when he can’t fuck you.
“Fuck.” Seungcheol groans. “Just look at you. So turned on by letting your stepdad play with your tits.”
“I know.” You cry out wet panties leaking all over his throbbing cock. “It’s so wrong, but it feels too good, daddy. Want you to play with them all night.”
“Goddamn, Y/N.” Your stepdad grits out, cock leaking with so much precum that he can feel it start to dribble down his length. “Such a demanding little brat. You’re lucky daddy loves you so much. I’m going to suck on these pretty nipples until you’re creaming in your panties.”
You rock your hips with more vigor, letting out a filthy moan. “Fuck, daddy. You’re so dirty.”
“I am.” Seungcheol agrees with a ravenous hum. “It’s nasty that I want suck on my stepdaughter’s lovely tits until she’s gushing all over my lap like the needy slut she is. But it’s my fault for always giving you what you want, right, baby?”
“Yes, yes!” You mewl loudly. “Want your mouth so bad, daddy!”
Your needy plea makes his eyes flutter shut for a moment. When he opens them again, he’s staring hungrily at your tits. The sight makes him descend like a starving man. Seungcheol closes his mouth over one of your taut peaks, tongue lapping at the hard nipple like you love.
“Daddy!” You squeal in pleasure, more slick pooling in your thin panties as you watch him suck on your tit eagerly.
Your hips are moving vigorously now, rubbing your covered cunt all over his wet cock. It only makes him suck on your tit harder. Seungcheol then switches the other one, mouth sporadically swapping back and forth like he can’t decide on which nipple to keep in his mouth.
“So fucking sexy.” Your stepdad pants, nipping the soft swell of your breasts. “God, your tits are better than your mom’s.”
His depraved words shouldn’t please you as much as they do. But you’re beyond any moral reason, and the filthy confession has you grinding down on him harder with a loud moan, pussy dripping steadily. Seungcheol grabs your hips so hard to help you move that you know he’ll leave marks.
“Gonna cum, daddy.” You mewl out in shock, hips never stopping. “Fuck. You’re making me feel so good!”
Seungcheol pulls back and trails his hands up your body to squeeze your soft tits. He pushes them together and descends on your sensitive nipples again. He’s kissing, licking, and sucking on them with one purpose in mind—to have you cum in his lap. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs and hips twitching as you let out a keening cry. You cum violently, saturating the fabric of your underwear until it feels like a second skin.
Your stepdad groans in satisfaction as you soak his lap with your release. He pulls back to get a better look at your panties stuck to your puffy lips. Seungcheol lick his lips, knowing he’ll have to keep ruining you all night.
As you slowly come down from your high, you bite your lip at the sight of your stepfather’s wet mouth. He looks so hot after just having sucked on your tits. You wish you could take a picture.
“Gonna let daddy fuck your messy little cunt now?”
You shudder in delight. “Fuck yeah.”
His devious grin is so fucking hot that it has your pussy clenching in need. You’re flipped on your back, panties slowly being pulled down. Seungcheol groans at the wetness of the fabric and shoves them in his face. You both moan when he starts to lick and suck on your soiled panties.
“Gonna keep these, princess.” He moans into the fabric before carefully tossing it aside.
Seungcheol’s eyes are dark when he sees you readily spread your legs for him. Your pretty pussy is all messy and wet, ready to be split open by his fat cock. He yanks you closer, slapping his aching cock on your throbbing clit. “Fuck, you make me crazy, princess.” He hisses as he rubs his cockhead all over your messy cunt.
“Hurry up and fuck me, daddy!” You whine out petulantly. “Need you inside me!”
Seungcheol’s hips buck forward, his throbbing length sliding through your puffy lips. “Bratty little girl can’t wait to be stuffed full?” He tsks meanly, his tip pressing against your hole only to slip away to rub against your slick folds. “So fucking cockhungry.”
You give him a grin and look at him through your eyelashes—a look he can never resist. “Only for you.”
That’s all it takes for Seungcheol’s hips to snap forward, forcing his cock into your hot cunt and making you cry out at the abrupt intrusion. He moans deeply and starts to roughly fuck in and out of your squelching pussy.
“My stepdaughter’s pussy is all for me, huh?” Seungcheol coos adoringly, thumb gliding across your clit to rub soft circles over your sensitive bud. “That means I’ll have to break in your tight little cunt until it’s the shape of my cock.”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your nails scratch down his back, leaving your mark on him not caring that your mother would surely question him later. Not that Seungcheol cares either. He’s too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls gripping him like they want to keep his cock inside you forever.
“You feel good, princess?” Your stepdad wonders through a soft laugh. “God, I needed this. Couldn’t go any longer without feeling this juicy cunt squeezing me.”
Arching your back, you let out a loud moan. “Daddy!”
Your pussy clenches around his cock as he keeps hammering into your g-spot with every deep thrust of his hips. Seungcheol growls at your wanton cry, grinding his cock deeper into your pussy. Juices are leaking down your ass, filling the room with the lewd sound of skin slapping and loud squelching. Your room smells of sex, and as you give a quick glance to the door you wonder if the scent is strong enough to be detected from the hall.
Perversely, you get turned on by the thought of your mom walking by and smelling it. How she could just peek her head in and see her husband fucking you raw. Another coat of cream stains Seungcheol’s cock as you lose yourself in the debased fantasy.
“Daddy!” You whimper. “It’s so deep.”
Seungcheol sighs in pleasure. His hips are snapping into your sopping hole, not thinking about anything except how pretty you look under him. Tits bouncing, fucked out eyes gazing up at him like his cock is the only thing you could ever want. Fuck. He needs to breed you.
“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna cream in your sweet pussy until you’re dripping in cum.”
Shivering all over, your pussy throbs at his words. Seungcheol can feel how much you like the idea. He growls possessively and fucks you harder. The sound of his heavy balls smacking your ass mixes in with your lovely moans perfectly.
“Gonna fuck you full of cum so you can smell me even after I’m gone. Fuck. Pretty little pussy is gonna be full of me all the time. Not even your mom can stop me from stuffing you full.”
You can’t stop moaning and whining, voice getting higher as he keeps speaking such filthy words. Your pussy gets wetter as Seungcheol’s thrusts get rougher. His cock is spearing into you so hard your upper body is bouncing along with your pretty tits.
“Breed me, daddy!” You cry out suddenly, feeling an overwhelming sensation to have his seed deep inside you. “F-Fuck, daddy! Gonna cum! Gonna cum all over your cock!”
Your head melts into your pillow as Seungcheol fucks you into the mattress. Thighs trembling as his leaking tip slams into your sweet spot.
“That’s it, princess.” Seungcheol groans, sliding his thumb to your pussy to rub your clit fast and hard. “Cum all over daddy’s cock. Let me hear me how good I’m fucking your tight little pussy."
“Oh fuck! Daddy! Daddy! Da—!” You chant loudly, back arching sharply as your orgasm slams into your body.
You wail wantonly as your pussy gushes all over his cock. Seungcheol loves every second of it. He keeps fucking your spasming hole, addicted to the feeling of you creaming on his dick. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as your stepdad buries himself in your wet cunt to the hilt. His soft growl makes you throb as his cock spurts a hot load deep inside you. Gently, he keeps fucking it into you until he can’t handle the overstimulation.
“Such a good girl for me.” Seungcheol murmurs the praise through a heavy pant. “Milking daddy’s cock like a good little slut.”
You whine at the praise, pussy squeezing his cock to milk it some more. It works. Your clit pulses greedily as he pumps rope after rope of sticky cum inside you. Once he’s absolutely done, he slowly pulls out of you with a satisfied grin.
“God, sweetheart. That was fucking amazing.” Seungcheol says as he rubs his half-hard cock between your warm folds, eyes hungrily taking in your sweaty tired body.
You bite your lip, reaching down to stroke his cock against your clit. The feeling has you both shuddering in pleasure. “Fuck me again, daddy. Fuck me until I can’t walk.”
Seungcheol’s cock throbs in your hand, hips bucking as he lowers himself back on top of you. He kisses you heatedly, biting your lower lip before he thrusts his tongue into your mouth. You grind your sloppy pussy all over his hardening cock, eager to get him to fuck you again.
“Such a dirty girl.” Seungcheol groans against your lips. He whines as you press his thick cock against your messy hole.
“And you’re a bad stepdad.” You mewl filthily. “Wetting your dick with your stepdaughter’s pussy.”
“Fuck, I know I am.” He moans as he fucks his cock back into your cunt with a gentle thrust. “I’m sick for liking your sweet little pussy wrapped around my cock.”
You both moan when he bottoms out. Your arousal and his cum leak down his length and make a creamy ring around the base of his cock. Seungcheol pulls back a bit just to thrust right back into your pussy. He keeps you pressed against the bed, strong arms boxing you in as he starts to roughly thrust into your sloppy cunt.
“Goddamn.” Your stepfather moans through gritted teeth. “I’m already close. Fuck, baby. You got me addicted to this tight little pussy.”
Seungcheol’s hips are bucking wildly, thick dick splitting your pussy open deliciously. Your eyes flutter as his abdomen brushes against your clit. Pussy fluttering around his dick, you feel your third climax right there on the cusp of washing over your body. He nips your earlobe before dragging his lips down to kiss and bite your neck.
“Fuck. Can’t believe your mother almost stopped me from having you.” Seungcheol growls as he gets more aggressive with his thrusts. “But I took care of that, baby. I’m gonna have you all night. Juicy little cunt belongs wrapped around my cock.”
His filthy words have a dark edge to them. You don’t know what he means by that, but you don’t really care. All you can focus on is that he’s just as needy for you as you are for him. Much like you, he’s willing to go to great lengths just to get his fix. Your pussy clenches at the very thought.
“Fuck, daddy! I’m cumming again!” You mewl desperately, body wound tight. “Please, please, fuck!”
Your pussy squirts, almost pushing your stepdad’s fat cock out of your clenching hole as slick soaks his dick and drips down his balls.
“Oh, princess.” Seungcheol laughs delightedly, eyes sparkling at the mess you’ve made on his cock. “Daddy made you squirt? Liked him fucking you raw like the nasty little girl you are? Fuck, baby. Gonna creampie your messy cunt again. God—so fucking filthy.”
All you can do is nod along, whines and mewls slipping out of your lips as your feel your body buzz with euphoria. Seungcheol slams his cock into you one final time and spills his second load deep inside your overstimulated pussy. Ropes of hot cum shoot inside you, stuffing you to the brim all over again.
“Such a good girl.” Seungcheol coos against your ear. “Always so ready to take this cock. Daddy’s gonna make sure your needy little pussy gets all the dick it wants, princess. I promise.”
You give him a fucked out grin, loving that he’s just as much of a nasty freak as you are.
358 notes · View notes
Safer to Kiss (part 2) - Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
read part 1 here!
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Word Count: 3236
Summary: the day after drunkenly kissing your best friend and coworker, Spencer Reid, the BAU catches a case. Lots of talking with other members of the team, general group dynamic chaos, and ✨Pining✨
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, normal Criminal Minds violence, maybe some mild cursing? Mostly just pining teehee
A/N: thank you so much to everyone who interacted with part 1! I am so pumped about this lil series, and part 3 is already started 🙈 I love love LOVE hearing from you guys, it makes me so happy and inspired to continue writing. 🥹 also not my gif, all credit to the owner bc LOOK AT HIS LIL FACE
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Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Suddenly the three glasses of wine and 2 glasses of champagne were null and void, because you felt completely sobered by the time your mouth pulled away from his. The reality of the situation hit you like a bus - you, in a drunken stupor, had stupidly, idiotically, irreversibly kissed your best friend. Right on the lips. There was no excusing it as a friendly peck on the cheek.
Your entire face felt hot as you pulled away, and as Spencer’s hands retracted to his own space. You felt wobbly - okay, maybe you hadn’t sobered up - and when you were once again leaning against the railing of the stairs on your apartment building’s stoop, you blinked a few times.
Spencer blinked a few times, too, as if to process what had just happened. He’d tasted like red wine, which you saw he’d only had one single glass of tonight, and spearmint gum. The combination reminded you of spring.
Your best friend tasted like spring.
Your eyes widened, buggy, as if they might pop out of your head, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out.
Spencer spoke instead, with an earnest expression on his face. “Y/N-“
“Thanks for getting me home in one piece, okay, goodnight!” You rambled off, the words sliding off your tongue like they were on a luge, all blurring together into one, long megaword. You slid in behind the door and stumbled up to your unit before you could say another word.
You couldn’t believe yourself, replaying the moment on your stoop over and over as you locked the door, leaning against it and running your hand over your face. Spencer’s expression had been completely dumbfounded when you pulled away from the kiss. There was no doubt in your mind that he had been about to politely reject you, in that way that only he could do. I’m sorry, Y/N, but I think we’re better off as friends, he would say, simultaneously humiliating you and ripping your heart in half.
That’s why you’d cut him off, before he could say anything, before he could address the situation, before either of you had to acknowledge that it had actually happened.
You slept poorly that night, your anxiety getting the best of you. It was that look on Spencer’s face, how you just knew he was going to tell you in the kindest, most sensitive tone that he didn’t like that you kissed him. And your Nan’s voice ringing in your head - You’ll find someone someday, Button. You’ll be just as happy as your sister someday, Button.
You tossed and turned, and woke up with a violent hangover. All the coffee in the world was not enough to cure the aftershock of the night before.
Your stomach was in knots, a lethal combination of hangover ickies and irreversible mistake anxiety, and as you took a cab to work, you leaned your head against the seat behind you.
You flashed your badge to security and boarded the elevator to ride up to the sixth floor. The doors opened to reveal Penelope Garcia, clutching a stack of folders to her chest, waiting for you.
“Good morning, pumpkin,” Penelope flashed a smile, then grabbed you by the wrist, practically yanking you along behind her as she headed towards the conference room. Your head was pounding and while you loved Penelope with all your heart, in that moment, you wanted to throttle her. “You look horrible. We’ll discuss that later, and don’t even think about trying to internalize it and brush me off. I might not be a super magic genius psychic profiler, but I can tell when one of my love-bugs has had a wild night and I want details. Unfortunately for you, darling, you have a case. Hotch asked me to pull you directly into the conference room. Everyone’s waiting.”
Usually, when Penelope rambled on like that, you were able to keep up. In this weakened state, however, the words hit you like someone throwing putty against a wall, and it took a minute to process. You found yourself standing in front of the closed door of the conference room, with slackened posture and narrowed eyes. “Okay,” you managed to murmur before Penelope dragged you behind her, into the conference room.
You could feel the team’s eyes on you as you slumped into the empty seat. You avoided eye contact with everyone, especially Spencer, projecting to the room that you were not to be asked about your disheveled appearance and obvious headache. You spared a glance at Spencer. He looked perfect, as per freakin’ usual, with a purple button-up dress shirt and a dark tie over it. He sat up straight in his desk chair, as if last night hadn’t affected him in the slightest. You hated that.
Hotchner cleared his throat. “Let’s begin. Garcia?”
Penelope’s eyes lingered on you, fluttering from you to Spencer, and you watched as she seemed to resist the urge to say anything. “Ooookay,” she spoke, drawing the word out as she stood before the table. She used the TV remote to present the case’s info on the monitor. “We’ve got a local case today, my fine furry friends. Three men killed in three weeks,” you took a drink of the water in front of you as Penelope presented three driver’s license photos on the TV screen. “All bodies have been identified. Twenty-three-year-old Harvey Gibson, twenty-nine-year-old Kyle Moore, and twenty-eight-year-old Malcolm Greene. All three were found in alleys in downtown D.C, cause of death multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals.”
You choked on your water when you saw the last photo. Malcolm Greene, as in, Malcolm Greene, the guy you spoke to last night at the art gallery? You remembered spotting him from across the room, and thinking about how Spencer had said he’d gone on a date (albeit, an unsuccessful one) over the weekend, and you wanted to prove to yourself that you could be interested in other men. And then you’d gone over to Malcolm, spoke to him for an embarrassing two minutes and twelve seconds, and walked back to Spencer with a red face. And now he was dead?
Concerns about your relationship with your best friend aside, your eyes met Spencer’s across the conference table and the two of you seemed, for a moment, to fall back into your old dynamic, having a somewhat telepathic conversation with just your expressions.
That’s the guy…? Spencer seemed to say, his brows furrowed slightly.
A subtle bob of your head was how you responded. Yep, that’s him.
Spencer’s mouth formed a straight line, a mannerism that everyone around the table seemed to notice.
“Reid, Y/L/N, what’s going on?” Derek piped up, inclining his head to the side curiously. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”
Spencer’s mouth opened as if he were about to spill the beans, but he paused, seemingly deciding not to rattle off whatever he was going to say. Instead, he gestured to you.
“Spencer and I went to an art gallery after work last night,” you sighed, feeling your cheeks turn pink. “I may have… flirted, briefly, with Malcolm Greene.”
Derek let out a low whistle, and you saw Emily and JJ share an amused look. Rossi was even cracking a smirk.
Only Hotch remained as stoic as ever. “How long did you speak with him?” He asked.
“Two minutes, twelve seconds,” you and Spencer said simultaneously, and your eyes snapped to his across the table. You swallowed the lump in your throat and somehow felt your whole face turn even redder.
“Some smooth-talker you are,” Derek snickered, and you shot him a glare. Penelope, standing behind him, smacked his shoulder. “Did you get his digits that fast?”
“I don’t really see how that’s pertinent to the case,” you protested, sitting up straight and crossing your arms over your chest.
“It’s just like any other witness interview, Y/N,” Hotch reminded you calmly, shooting the rest of the team a warning glance. “Even the most minute detail could help.” He seemed to realize that you were humiliated, and that the rest of the team’s eyes on you were not helping the situation. “We can talk about it later,” he compromised.
“So, multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals, huh?” Rossi offered as a rough transition back to the topic at hand. Across the table, you heard Emily stifle a laugh.
“Yes, sir. All bodies were posed in a classic casket fashion, arms folded across their chests, eyes closed,” Penelope reported.
“Sign of remorse,” JJ noted, jotting it down on her pad of paper.
“Any cash missing from their wallets, or jewelry missing off their body?” Hotchner asked.
“No, sir, all wallets were found in the clothes of the victims, presumably where they had been kept untouched,” Penelope answered.
“So, not a robbery gone wrong,” Rossi concluded.
“The disposal of the bodies feels inconsistent with the cause of death,” Spencer pointed out, twirling his pen around his finger. His cadence was quick and pensive. “Multiple stab wounds to those particular areas of the body indicate intense rage at the time of the murder, disposing them in alleyways seems to be a choice of opportunity and convenience, but posing the bodies is a sign of remorse, like the UnSub suddenly realizes what he’s done and regrets it.”
“Do the victims have any friends or family in common?” You asked, crossing your ankles beneath the table.
“As far as my preliminary scans can tell, all three men were completely unrelated,” Penelope said. “The only common denominator is how they died and how their bodies were disposed of.”
“Not entirely,” Emily pointed out, standing up and using her pen as a pointer, gesturing to the three ID photos on the screen.
“Don’t these guys all look… strikingly similar?” Emily proposed. All men were white, with aquiline noses, dark hair, and dark eyes. “In fact, don’t they all look exactly like someone we know?”
You took in a sharp breath, just as Penelope let out a small gasp and Derek let out a soft chuckle. “They’re all pretty boys, like Pretty Boy,” Derek laughed.
“So our UnSub has a type,” JJ added.
Derek smirked. “The UnSub and Y/N both have a type.”
Your face turned bright red, and your jaw tensed. You felt Spencer’s eyes on you for a fleeting moment, and before you could say anything, Hotchner stepped in. “Let’s get going on this. Reid, JJ, and Morgan, I want you at the crime scene. Prentiss, Rossi, and Y/L/N, come with me to the local police precinct and interview family and friends. Garcia, too.”
There was an array of agreements murmured, and everyone began to disperse. You wanted to shake Derek by the shoulders for his little comment, especially after all the teasing you took when you realized the man you briefly spoke to last night was now dead.
You were on your way back to your desk when you felt a light touch on your elbow. When you saw it was Spencer, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Can we talk for a second?” He asked, and you shook your head.
Pointing pathetically to your desk, you responded, rather articulately, with, “The case…”
“Yeah, I know. The case. But, Y/N, we have to talk about last night,” Spencer said, looking down at you. Even though you were actually tall for a woman, Spencer still had at least four inches of height on you. Maybe five. “I mean, you just, like, escaped from me the first second that you could. Was it…?”
You furrowed your brows, confused as to what Spencer was trying to say. “Did you mean to kiss me?” He asked.
This was it. This was the out. He was giving it to you, whether he knew it or not. This was the opportunity to take it all back, to say it was a mistake. You could blame it on the wine, on your Nan’s phone call, on Malcolm - what was he gonna do, sell you out?
The chance to save your friendship with Spencer Reid was right there, and you stood there and you looked up at Spencer with your mouth open, words ready to spill out, when -
“Hey, Reid, you coming, man?”
Saved by the Morgan.
You saw Spencer’s jaw tighten, and he exhaled sharply. You were still frozen, unsure of what to say, of how to say it, so when Spencer simply frowned at you and then turned around to join Derek, you weren’t surprised.
You ran your hands over your face, still reeling, foggy from your hangover, thoroughly embarrassed from the entire situation.
“Y/N,” Rossi’s voice piped up, and you turned to see him with an arched brow. “C’mon, we gotta get going,” he gestured for you to follow him.
You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as you joined Rossi. You boarded the elevator with him, just the two of you, to head down to one of the Bureau’s black SUVs. “What’s going on with you?” Rossi asked, furrowing his brows.
In terms of group dynamics, David Rossi was like the team’s mother, in comparison to Hotchner, who was most certainly the patriarch of the BAU. You loved Rossi. He was kind, fairly level-headed, and he always stuck his neck out for the people he cared about. He also was pretty funny, and could make a killer lasagna. All those merits aside, you so did not want to talk about it.
“Not right now, Dave,” you shook your head, leaning against the wall of the elevator, running your palms down your thighs.
Rossi nodded understandingly, but you had an inkling he wasn’t about to just drop it. “I get it. Hungover, in a weird spot with Reid-“
“I’m not in a weird spot with Reid,” you corrected him, and Rossi smirked, knowing he had gotten you to crack. You shot him a (mostly) playful glare. “I had maybe a little too much to drink last night. And I maybe had, accidentally, perhaps…” you groaned, rolling your eyes at the idiocy of your actions the night before. “I kissed Spencer last night. It only lasted for, like, a minute, and right when it was over, I freaked out and went inside my apartment, and now things are just, like, weird between us. And I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, kiddo,” Rossi began, and you pursed your lips. He always hit you with a kiddo when he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear. “As a person who has been with many romantic partners-“
You feigned a gag.
Rossi just chuckled and continued. “I think you have to ask yourself - how do you want Spencer to react? Would you prefer to bury this and never speak of it again, or is this the catalyst you needed to finally tell him how you feel?”
You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean, tell him how I feel?” You asked, playing dumb. Maybe Rossi was just grasping at straws.
“Oh, c’mon, kid, we’ve all seen how you look at each other. The only person who doesn’t know that you’re in love with Spencer is, well, Spencer.”
You felt your entire face flush. “You’re not serious,” you chuckled in disbelief.
Rossi looked at you and batted his eyelashes in a very feminine expression. The expression dropped and he said, “You make this lovestruck school girl expression at him at least once a day.”
“I do not!” You crossed your arms over your chest defensively, just as the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival to the Quantico lobby.
“Yeah, kid, you do. It’s pretty cute, actually. You’re like two lovesick puppies, chasing each other’s tails.”
“He does not think of me like that, Rossi,” you insisted indignantly, your voice taking a more hushed tone as the two of you walked at the same quick pace through the lobby, and outside towards the garage of Bureau vehicles.
The sun hit your face just as Rossi spoke again. “You’re such a good profiler, Y/N. How do you not see it?”
You decided not to dignify Rossi’s opinion with a response. Rather, you just shook your head and continued towards the garage to meet up with Prentiss and Garcia.
When you arrived at the police precinct, Garcia set up in the conference room, and you, Emily and Rossi each took turns interviewing the next of kin for the victims. You interviewed the mother of the first victim, Harvey Gibson.
An art student at Georgetown, steady boyfriend for three years he planned to propose to on Christmas, no criminal record, called his mother every other day. He was a good kid. Comforting his mother, walking her through all the questions the police had asked her three weeks ago — it was always a lot. But with your head already fuzzy and your mind on other Reid-related things, by the time you escorted Mrs. Gibson out of the police station and thanked her for her time, you felt heavy.
It didn’t help when the team reconvened about an hour later, sitting around a conference room at the local police station. You could tell Spencer’s eyes were floating to yours every so often, but you refused to meet them. You were working right now. You couldn’t let the revelation with Rossi distract you from your job.
Penelope took the lead, addressing the entire team. “So, our original thought of the three victims being unrelated actually has turned out to be incorrect,” she began. “Not only do all three of our victims look alike, but they all visited the same art gallery twenty-four hours prior to their murders.”
“Not the one we went to last night?” Spencer asked.
“No,” Penelope clarified. “From Emily’s discussion with Malcolm Greene’s brother, along with tracking the location of the other two victims’ cell phones prior to their deaths, we can determine that all three victims visited a different art gallery - The Restful Owl, just two blocks over from where you and Y/N went last night.”
“So, the victims all meet a certain physical description,” JJ recapped. “Brown hair, brown eyes, early-to-late twenties, and all visited The Restful Owl art gallery.”
“The gallery seems like a solid lead,” Hotch agreed. “All three victims were interested in art in some capacity - Harvey Gibson was studying art, Kyle Moore worked at an art museum, Malcolm Greene was a collector.”
“Perhaps the ruse the UnSub used was related to a particular piece or artist,” Spencer proposed, wrapping and unwrapping his fingers around his pen. “We should get the security tapes from each victim’s visit to the gallery, observe who they spoke to, how they reacted to specific pieces. Maybe the UnSub lured these men to the sites of their deaths by promising them a deal on a work, or something of the sort.”
“Good idea,” said Hotchner. “Prentiss, Morgan, follow up with the gallery. If there’s a specific person or piece all three victims stopped to interact with, I think our next step is pretty clear.”
“What’s that?” Penelope asked.
“We send in someone who just so happens to be exactly the UnSub’s type to the art gallery as bait,” Rossi concluded.
All eyes, including yours, moved across the table, landing on Spencer.
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liveontelevision · 2 days
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Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.
You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas
I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.
Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡
Honey | Lucifer x Reader
No smut, just some cute fluff here-
♡♡♡
As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.
Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.
Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.
"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.
"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.
"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.
"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.
"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.
“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.
The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.
You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.
As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 
"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.
"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.
"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 
"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.
"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.
"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.
Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.
"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.
"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.
"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.
"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.
The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.
As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.
You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.
It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.
It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.
"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.
There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.
"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.
"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.
"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.
Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.
Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).
This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.
Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 
"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.
"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.
“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.
“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.
With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.
"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.
“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.
"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.
"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?
"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.
You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.
Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 
"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.
"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.
"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.
“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.
“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.
“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.
The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 
"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.
"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.
"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?
"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.
"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.
"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.
"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.
"Of course I don't.." He muttered.
"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.
"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.
You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.
"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.
“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 
“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.
“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.
With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.
“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 
Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.
"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.
"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.
"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.
"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.
♡♡♡
I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends
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196 notes · View notes
latenightdaydreams · 3 days
Note
Please do part 2 of Mechanic Konig. I'm begging you!!! Your writing is AMAZING! I have to reread your writing every day because I can't get over it 😩
Thank you!!! I'll be writing a lot more this week, so there will be more! I finally made a part 2!!! I hope you enjoy!!🥰
Mechanic!König x Reader Part 2 (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part 1 here! 🚗
Master List!
>cw: fem/afab, pregnancy, p in v, oral
1.4k word count
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You sit in your car holding your newest ultrasound pictures. You made a last-minute appointment to see the doctor assuming you might have the flu, but being a few days late on your cycle the doctor asked for you to take a pregnancy test. Once it came back positive you were sent to the women’s health center for an ultrasound. You’ve been celibate for almost a whole year, other than your random hook up with that mechanic… You let out a long sigh before driving off.
You pull up in front of his shop, putting the ultrasound photos in your purse before stepping out of the car. Walking up to the open garage door, it’s almost like déjà vu. There König is wearing a white shirt and jeans, covered in oil. He looks up and meets your gaze for a split second before he looks down, realizing who he just saw, his head snaps back up.
“Y/n?” König speaks softly as if surprised to actually see you again. The last few weeks you’re all he has been able to think about. He’s been waiting for you to call or show back up and now here you are. His eyes drift down your body, taking in how amazing you look, and back to your eyes.
“Hi, König.” You walk closer into the garage. “Are you busy right now?”
“No,” he gently shakes his head. He closes the hood of the car he was working on and grabs a rag to clean his hands off. “Do you want to go to my car?”
Yes, you think to yourself, but you came here to talk. “No, I think we should talk.”
König tilts his head when you say no. He drops the dirty rag on the bench behind him and he looks at your cleavage again before back to your eyes.
“Is your car running okay?”
“Yes, its fine.”
“So, what is it?” He leans back as his blue eyes keep glossing over your body. All he can think about is how good you felt and looked naked in the back of his car.
“Um, so, I went to the doctors today.” The word doctor piquing his interest. “And she did a few tests on me…” You stall nervously not knowing how to tell him. What if he reacts poorly?
“Are you pregnant?” König asks, hurrying your story along.
“I am,” you nod softly, “I have ultrasound photos.”
“You do?” He perks up. “How far along are you?”
“11 weeks,” you go into your bag and pull out the ultrasound photos.
König quickly steps forward and grabs them from you.  His eyes glued to the image of a tiny fetus shown on the ultrasounds.  He studies every photo, a flood of emotions rushing through him at this moment. He can’t believe he actually got you pregnant.
“I came to be responsible and tell you. I don’t know what I’m going to do-” he cuts you off.
“I said that I would support the both of you and I meant it.” His eyes meet yours. “I have a big house, I make great money, and you’ll never have to work again Schatzi. You can just focus on raising our baby.”
You don’t say anything as you stand there taking in what he has said. Supporting a whole family is a huge responsibility. You don’t even know him, could you really build a life with him?  
“You laid down with me, you let me get you pregnant. Please, let me take care of you. Both of you.” He reaches a hand out and gently caresses your upper arm. His eyes showing genuine intent as they fall to your stomach even though you aren’t even close to showing yet.
“We don’t even know each other…”
“We will learn,” He looks back down at the ultrasound photos in his hand. “Please.”
.
.
König runs his large hands over your swollen stomach, softly holding it as his eyes watch your growing breast bouncing. Your nipples have darkened and areolas enlarged. You’ve even been gaining weight, making your thighs and ass bigger. Your changing body is a beautiful sight to behold and it’s changing all because of him. Small moans of pleasure leaving his lips as he watching you eagerly bounce on his cock. Since you entered your second trimester, your hormones have been all over the place making you extremely horny. König is loving every second of it.
“König,” you whimper his name out as you feel yourself getting ready to reach your third orgasm.
“Ja, Liebing, there you go, let it out.”
He moves one of his hands down and begins to rub your sensitive clit with his thumb. He moves in slow focused circles making your legs begin to tremble. You slow down and lean forward slightly, letting out loud moans as your velvety walls flutter around his cock. König takes deep breaths and tries to focus his mind to not cum yet, he knows you aren’t done. Once he feels your body relax, he moves his hand away from your clit.
He gently lifts your body and leans back, grabbing a pillow and putting it under your head before laying you down gently. His eyes roam down your body as he bends down to lick your nipples, softly sucking on them as he feels your fingers comb through his short hair. He lines his cock up with your entrance and pushes himself back into you, mouth still latched to your breast.
“Oh yes, please.” You push his head away so he can sit up. “Fuck me harder.”
König nods his head as his hands wrap around your thick thighs, he pulls your legs apart and back making sure to be careful with your baby bump. König can’t believe how beautiful you look; how tight your cunt feels. He can’t believe how he got so lucky with you.
Your eyes trace the shape of his muscular body, seeing how his muscles flex under the light sheen of sweat covering his body. Your hands gripping the bedsheets as he fills your small cunt completely. You feel euphoric burst of pleasure every time he thrust forward; you clench down on him. König lets out a loud moan in response.
“Meine Liebe, I’m going to cum.” König’s voice cracks as he doesn’t slow his motion. His toes curling and eyes fluttering.
“No, please don’t stop, I’m not done yet.” You pant, feeling your next orgasm just beginning to build.
“Es tut mir Leid,” König chokes out as his hands drop your legs and move up to your full breast and squeezes them. His motion slows as his cock throbs inside of you.
Once he finishes, he pulls out and drops to his stomach, placing his head between your legs. He begins to lick your clit, his tongue flicking back and forth causing you to squirm and moan softly. One hand rest on you stomach as the other pushes two fingers into your cunt full of his cum. Curling his fingers up, he begins to finger you, quickly moving his arm. He tastes the mixture of your creamy cunt and his salty seamen.
“Right there, please don’t stop.” You moan in a whiney tone; König loves to hear it.
He doesn’t stop as his lips wrap around your swollen clit and sucks. His fingers rubbing against your g-spot rapidly as your back arches. Listening to you moan out his name as your squeeze his head between your plump thighs he lets out a satisfied groan into your cunt. Finally, you orgasm, he licks long laps up and down your pussy before pulling his fingers out.
He looks up and smiled at you as you lay there catching your breath. He has an air of arrogance about him, being able to make you cum so many times.
“I’m going to go clean up Liebling, I’ll be back with a towel to clean you too.” König leans in and kisses your belly before standing from the bed and going to the bathroom,
Once he was all clean, he grabbed a towel and began to walk back to you in the bedroom. Once there he sees you fast asleep, cuddling the blanket. König can’t help but to smile. He leaves the towel at the edge of the bed and tries to cover you the best he can without waking you up.
König decides to get dressed and goes to the nursery to continue painting, what he was doing before you ask to be fucked. He opens up the can of paint and pours some in the tray. Getting the roller covered in paint, he begins to cover the last white wall in the room with a pale pink color.
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anniemika · 2 days
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No one else
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Eren Jaeger x Female Reader
Words: 6.9k
Warnings: explicit sex, cunnilingus, cursing
…..
"Mommy! Daddy’s here!” The sound of tiny footsteps echoed through the apartment, causing your maternal instincts to kick in. Worried that your daughter might trip on the stairs, you hurriedly made your way to the hallway. To your surprise, you found her standing by the door, her little backpack neatly packed, and her favorite plush toy clutched tightly under her arm.
"Sweetheart, what have I told you about running down the stairs?" you asked, trying to hide your smile at how adorable she looked.
"I know... sorry," she replied, giving you the most irresistible puppy eyes, swaying on her feet as if she knew exactly how to melt your heart. Just like someone else you knew.
"Mr. Poodles is coming with you, huh?" you said, kneeling down to help her tie her shoes properly.
"He can't wait to see Daddy, just like me," she grinned, hugging her stuffed animal. "Wish you were coming too."
For a moment, you froze. "This is your time with Daddy, baby. You've spent the whole day with me."
"But don't you want to have fun with me and Daddy too?" she asked, her innocent eyes searching for an answer. Right as she finished her question, the person of your discussion knocked on the apartment door.
"Daddy!" Your daughter practically pushed you out of the way as soon as you opened it, throwing herself into her father's arms.
"Wow! You're getting bigger every day!" he exclaimed, holding her tightly. "How's my baby girl?"
"I can't wait to go to the ice rink!" she squealed with excitement.
"Oh, me too, baby. Do you have your skates ready?"
"Umm, I think they're upstairs."
"Then go fetch 'em!" releasing her from his embrace, you both watched as she sprinted towards the stairs.
“Remember what I said!” you said after her, but she was too eager to hear your reminder.
You turned your attention back to her father, who was still smiling goofily, his eyes fixed on the direction your daughter had gone.
"She's been talking about this all day," you said to him, your lips curving into a smile.
Eren turned to face you, his gaze lingering a bit too long on your features before he spoke. "Yeah, she's been wanting to go for some time now."
"Just keep an eye on her, please. You know how hyperactive she can get, just like-"
"Me?" Eren tried to hide his smile, but it was evident, causing you to roll your eyes.
"Yes, just like you," you replied, a hint of affection in your voice.
You stare at each other for a few moments, before Eren grabs his backpack and begins to rummage through it. “I, uh.. got you something.”
You adjoin your eyebrows in confusion, but then he clarifies. “For your birthday.”
“Eren, you shouldn’t ha-“
“I wanted to.” He declares with a tone that suggests there’s no point in fighting him about it. After he gets a tiny present box out of his backpack, he moves closer, handing it to you.
"Thanks." You smile timidly, trying to escape his gaze. After nervously opening the present, your eyes grow wide when you see it. “Oh my god, Eren..”
You put your hand against your mouth in awe of the golden necklace positioned in the little box. It’s a lock necklace in the shape of a heart, with your daughter’s picture right at the center of it.
“Eren, this is... it’s beautiful.” Your eyes are still large as you inspect the jewelry, “thank you, thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Eren casts a warm smile your way. You exchange glances with him, something you can’t quite decipher shining in his jewel eyes. “I was thinking-“
“I’m ready!” Your little bundle of joy appears in front of you, showcasing her pink glittery skates in her hand.
“Yeah?” Eren kneels next to her, giving a kiss on her puffy cheek. He looks at her, then at you, and then leans closer to your daughter’s ear, “Say, sweetheart.. don’t you think mommy should come with us, too?”
She doesn’t even waste a second, “Yes! Mommy, please come with us!”
You shake your head, “I can’t, sweetheart, I have work to do.”
“But it’s Saturday! Saturday is for fun!” Your daughter purses her upper lip, giving you the cutest little pout you’ve ever seen.
“She does have a point.” Eren nods his head. “Come on. I’ll be making pasta later.” He tilts his head the same way he does every time he tries to persuade you about something. And you hate that you’re debating it. It’s been four months since the last time you allowed yourself to spend time with Eren, and it was the same time you decided that it’d be best to co-parent instead of trying to fix your complicated relationship. He’d agreed to it, although it took him some time to understand what that actually meant. No more touching, kissing, spending nights together. It was hard for him, but with time, it seemed like he accepted it. Your kid was the most important thing for the both of you.
But even so, you could feel that there was still something. He was the father of your kid, and it didn’t help how amazing he was with her. Every time you saw them together, your heart would skip a beat. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad for your little girl. He did everything for her, helped her with school, taught her how to ride a bike, spent an enormous amount of time just playing with her and paying her attention. You were so grateful for that.
And you knew he still had a thing for you. He hadn’t gotten a new girlfriend even though women ogled him left and right, and when he would come to pick your kid up, he’d always talk to you, not being so smooth in trying to find out if you were dating someone or not.
Eren can see you’re still debating it, so he raises his arm in the air, “Everyone who wants mama to come, raise your hand.”
Your daughter follows suit, one tiny hand in the air, the other one holding onto Mr. Poodles’s hand. And you want to cry because this is the cutest image in the entire world.
“See, three against one.” Eren smirks your way, and of course, your cheeky daughter mimics it. That’s when you know, you’ve lost.
“Fine.” They both erupt into cheers, giving each other high fives. “Only for a little while, though.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
…..
The ice rink wasn’t as full as you’d expected for a Saturday, which was a welcome surprise. You couldn’t even remember the last time you went, but it was probably with Eren. He was the one that taught you, and then taught your little girl as well. It always amazed you how even though he was pretty impatient as a person, he was always so patient when it came to her... and to you, too. You really liked that about him.
You watched your daughter grab onto her father’s hand as they slid their skates across the rink, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart get full.
“Mommy! Come on!” She shouts to you, waving her little hand as Eren turns to look at you, a soft smile gracing his lips.
And if you really think about it, this is all you’ve ever wanted.
…..
“I should go.” You say as you gather your skates in one hand, watching as Eren helps your daughter undo hers. You’d been skating for the past two hours, and it was beginning to get cold, so after having spent the best time laughing and doing circles around the rink, with your bundle of joy holding you and Eren by your hands, you’d decided to call it a day.
“Don’t,” Eren basically jumps from the ground, his reaction surprising all three of you. Trying not to cringe from his sudden actions, he moves a bit closer, until you can faintly smell his cologne. “Please stay.”
You’d be lying if you said you expected the vulnerable tone those words came out with. He locked his gaze with yours, the pleading look in his eyes striking something deep inside your chest.
You still don’t say anything, so Eren tries again, “We’ll drive you afterwards. Right, sweetheart?” He turns to his daughter, who’s already giving you her irresistibly green puppy eyes.
“Please, mama. Mr. Poodles is gonna be sad if you leave.” She’s bringing the plush toy to her chest, her pointy chin resting on the animal’s head. They’re both really working you today.
You move your stare back to Eren’s, who looks like a little boy waiting for his parents to allow him something he really wants. You ignore the nestled feeling inside your chest, the one that seems to know why he’s acting this way. Finally, you sigh, tilting your head to catch your daughter’s expression again, “Well, I guess I can’t let Mr. Poodles be sad, now can I?”
…..
You hadn’t been to Eren’s new place ever since he left your shared apartment. You knew where it was because you’d often pick your daughter up from there, but you never felt comfortable enough to go in. Deep inside, you knew why you never wanted to. Not that you’d admit it to yourself or anyone else, but truth was, you were scared. Scared of accidentally bumping into a hook up, even though you knew he’d never allow that while your kid was there. But still, you were always on edge. You were afraid of him living the bachelor life now that you officially weren’t together, because as much as you wanted him to be happy, seeing your daughter’s father with another woman was something you weren’t sure you were ever going to be ready for.
But now, as you make your first step inside, you’re instantly washed with a sense of relief. The place isn’t big nor small, there’s just the right amount of space for a single dad whose kid comes over a couple of times a week. It’s tidy, there is no cereal on the table or alcohol bottles scattered around the shelves. There are a few plants positioned next to the window, their leaves as green as their owner’s eyes. You can even see the little cherry tomato tree you gave him as a gift after your third date—you’d made cherry tomato pasta that he absolutely loved, begging you for the recipe afterwards. Even though it was pretty simple, his reaction made you so happy, you gifted him the tree the next time you guys saw each other. You’d told him that whenever he wanted, you could make it for him with homemade tomatoes.
“Mommy, look what daddy and I drew!” Your daughter breaks your train of memories when she sprints towards the coffee table in the living room, grabbing what you suspect is the drawing, “Look! It’s us!”
She proudly presents the painting to you, smiling from ear to ear. You crouch down next to her, examining what you presume is all three of you holding each other by the hand, with wide smiles drawn on your faces. You can’t help but grin.
“Oh wow, you’re quite the artist, aren’t you?”
“Daddy helped!” She goes to grab her father by the hand, and you exchange glances with his handsome face, emerald eyes shooting arrows right through your heart.
“I bet he did.” You look down at the picture again, memorizing every little detail. How your hair is in your usual hairstyle, how Eren’s shirt is in his favorite green, how your daughter has a huge grin on her face, the same one she has on right now in front of you. And even when just looking at this drawing is enough to fill your heart with joy, you know that it’s not really similar to your real life. Because you and Eren.. you’re separated. You don’t take your kid for walks in the park together. You don’t go to the movies as a family. You don’t fall asleep in his arms after you’ve read your kid a bedtime story. The only time in the near past that you felt this way was today.. at the ice rink. It amazed you how life had the unimaginable gift of making you forget all the bad with just a little bit of good.
Eren notices the sudden sullen look on your face, so he quickly changes the subject, “All right girls, go sit yourselves down. I’m going to start dinner.”
…..
The sweet aroma of sizzling garlic fills the air of the kitchen. You’re seated opposite your little girl, who is now drawing a picture of a cat she’d seen outside the ice rink. It was her favourite animal, something she doesn’t keep away from you or Eren, giving not so subtle hints of what she would describe as the perfect birthday present.
“It smells really good.”
You say, trying to keep the conversation light and neutral. You're aware of the tension that underlies these simple domestic moments, but you're also conscious of the need to maintain a sense of normalcy for your daughter's sake.
Eren glances over his shoulder, offering you a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks. I'm making that cherry tomato pasta. Remember, the one you taught me?"
You nod, the memory bittersweet. "Yeah, I remember."
Your daughter, oblivious to the emotional undercurrents, chatters excitedly about the orange cat she’s drawing, her words filling the space with innocent energy. You listen to her, responding with the appropriate nods and laughs, but part of your attention remains on Eren. The ease with which he handles the kitchen utensils and the familiar way he moves around the space remind you of the times you cooked together, a pang of nostalgia hitting you as you watch.
The pasta is served, with Eren sitting down beside you. You take a bite, the flavors just as you remember, and you can't help but compliment Eren on his cooking. "You've got this down to a T," you say, a genuine smile touching your lips.
Eren looks pleased with the praise. "I had a good teacher," he replies, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he turns his attention back to your daughter, who is happily twirling pasta onto her fork.
“Do you like it, sweetheart?” He asks her, removing some stray hairs from her face so they don’t end up in her meal. The sight makes your heart swell.
“Best pasta ever!” She gives him a grin and Eren chuckles, pinching her on the nose.
“You’re the cutest kid ever.”
“Have to agree with that statement.” You chime in, smiling at them both.
“It’s no surprise. You made her.” 
Eren's comment catches you off guard, a compliment wrapped in a simple truth, and it brings a flush to your cheeks.
You give a soft laugh, brushing off the sentiment with a playful roll of your eyes, but inside, your heart feels a gentle tug. "Well, I had some help," you reply, acknowledging the role he's played not just in her creation, but in the person she's becoming.
Eren nods his head, attempting to conceal his smile, but it was futile. The warmth of the moment seems to hang in the air and the rest of the meal passes with ease, punctuated by laughter and the occasional playful banter. It's a reminder of the chemistry that once brought you together, still present in these small interactions. As you watch Eren interact with your daughter, his love for her evident in every gesture and word, you once again prove to yourself that choosing him as the father of your child was the right choice. Despite the separation, he remains a devoted father in every aspect, and that's something you can't help but respect.
After dinner, as Eren clears the table and insists on handling the dishes, you take the opportunity to spend some quiet time with your daughter, helping her with a puzzle she shows you, one that she’d started with her dad a week ago.
“You’re not ready for what I’m about to show you.” Eren’s voice carries a playful tone as he approaches, drying his hands on a dish towel. 
“What is it?” You turn to him, trying to ignore the way he’s rolled up his sleeves, his big, veiny hands on display.
“Just wait here.” He says with a grin, disappearing for a moment into another room. When he returns, he’s holding something behind his back, a knowing smile playing on his lips. You exchange a curious look with your daughter, who shrugs with an amused smile. Then with a flourish, Eren presents what looks like an album, one you instantly recognise when you read the title emblazoned across the cover. It's a photo album you both started when your daughter was born, filled with snapshots of her life, from her very first moments in this world.
You take it in your hands as if you’re holding the most precious thing in your life — because in a way, you are. The album is more than just a collection of photographs; it's a tangible chronicle of your daughter's journey, a narrative woven together by the love and care of her parents. You run your fingers over the title, the letters familiar and filled with a history that only you and Eren understand. 
“I haven’t seen this in forever.” You say, with a sort of awe in your voice as you flip the first page. There she was, your daughter, in her very first photograph, a tiny bundle swaddled in a hospital blanket. 
“Found it at my mom’s house.” Eren says as he settles on the living room couch beside you. You lean into the comfort of the cushions, the album resting on your lap, and as you turn the pages, you're enveloped by the warmth of the memories it holds.
Each photograph tells a story, and you're struck by the vividness of those early days, the emotions as fresh as if they were just yesterday. The sleep-deprived smiles, the first time your daughter grasped your finger, the countless expressions of wonder as she discovered the world around her—all are captured in these pages.
"It's amazing you found this," you say, looking over at Eren with gratitude. "I didn't even realize how much I missed it until now."
Eren nods, his gaze lingering on the images. "Yeah, I stumbled upon it while helping Mom with some cleaning. I figured we should have it here, where we can all look at it whenever we want."
The two of you continue to reminisce, sharing stories and laughter as your daughter, now more interested in the album than her puzzle, climbs onto the couch to join you. She points to a photo of herself as a toddler, her face painted with an expression of pure joy, and asks about the day it was taken.
"That was your second birthday," Eren explains, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "You had that little cake with the cartoon characters on it. You were so excited you barely let us cut it."
“Can I have the same one on my next birthday?” She asks with that childlike innocence that makes each question so endearing. 
"Of course, sweetheart," you reply, matching her enthusiasm. "We'll find a cake that makes you just as happy as that one did. Maybe we can even add some new decorations to make it extra special for this year."
Eren nods in agreement, always ready to make her birthday wishes come true. "We'll make it a great birthday," he assures her. "Maybe we can even look at some pictures together and pick out what you like best for the cake design."
Your daughter claps her hands excitedly, the prospect of planning her cake adding to the anticipation of her birthday, no matter that it was 5 months ahead. "Yay! I want it to be a surprise, though. I want to see it and be like, 'Wow!'"
You both laugh, charmed by her excitement and her desire for a surprise. "It'll be our little project," Eren tells her. "A big, happy birthday surprise."
The evening continues with a warm, gentle rhythm as you turn more pages of the album. Each photograph sparks a new conversation, a new story, or a fond recollection. And as the night progressed and the album came to an end, your daughter ended up falling asleep on your shoulder. 
Eren quietly gathers her in his arms and carries her to her bedroom, her head resting against his shoulder as he walks. You follow, watching the tender scene. The house was quiet, save for the soft sounds of your daughter's breathing and the faint creak of the floorboards underfoot.
Once in her room, Eren gently lays her down in her bed, taking care not to wake her. He pulls the covers up to her chin and tucks them around her snugly, ensuring she is comfortable and warm. You stay in the doorway, your heart full, observing this nightly ritual that never seems to lose its significance.
With the stealth and coordination of seasoned parents, you both retreat from the room, Eren turning off the light and closing the door just enough to leave a comforting sliver of light from the hallway. The two of you return to the living room, the silence a stark contrast to the laughter and storytelling that had filled it just a short while ago.
“It's been a good day," Eren says softly, his voice reflecting the peaceful atmosphere.
"Yeah, it really has," you agree, leaning against his kitchen counter.
Eren looks down at his feet, like he’s trying to find the proper words. "I wanted.. to say thank you. For tonight, for this," he gestures to the space around you, encompassing the warmth of the evening spent together, "for everything."
You offer him a soft smile, "I'm glad we did this," you reply. "It's important, for her."
And for us.
“She was really happy, wasn’t she?”
You nod, trying not to look him in the eyes. You felt.. vulnerable. You and him, alone, in this close proximity.. it hasn’t happened in a long time. And with the way your heart is beating, you know what you should do next, no matter if it is the last thing you want to do.
“I should get going. It’s getting late.” You tell him quietly, afraid of not waking your daughter up. 
“Wait,” he grabs your hand just before you begin to walk away. Eren's grip is gentle but firm, a silent plea for just a moment longer. You pause, turning back to face him and those beautiful green eyes of his. 
“Y/n, I…” he hesitates, searching for the right words, his eyes locked with yours. “I’ve missed you.” 
You feel a flutter in your chest, his words stirring emotions you've tried to keep at bay. Your mouth opens slightly, but words don’t find you.
His face contorts into a melancholic smile, “I barely functioned without you.”
The confession hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. You can see the sincerity in Eren's eyes, the raw honesty that he's allowing you to see. It's disarming, and for a moment, you're transported back to a time when the distance between you didn't exist.
You swallow hard, the flutter in your chest growing into a storm of emotions that you struggle to contain. Nonetheless, you try to keep the conversation light, letting out a low laugh.
“Seems like you’ve been doing fine.”
But Eren doesn’t buy that. He takes a few steps closer to you until you can smell his cologne.
“Yeah, well, I had to. Doesn’t mean you haven’t been on my mind the whole time.”
Eren's proximity and his familiar scent make your heart race, and the walls you've built to compartmentalize your feelings feel as though they're beginning to crumble. You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. The closeness is overwhelming, and you're reminded of the intimacy you once shared. It's a dangerous territory, and part of you wants to step back, to reestablish the boundaries that have kept you both grounded in your new reality.
“Eren, we’ve been through this-“
“I can’t be with anyone else.” He spits out, and you’re left speechless. His declaration cuts through the air, leaving a silence that feels both heavy and electric.
“And I’ve tried- fuck, I’ve really tried, but it doesn’t work. You’re my girl.”
Your stomach is doing somersaults. The intensity of Eren's confession sends your emotions into overdrive, and for a moment, you're caught in the eye of a storm that's been quietly brewing. His words, raw and unfiltered, resonate with a part of you that you've tried to keep hidden away, a part that still responds to him with a familiar pull.
“Eren, this isn’t right- things are fine now, for the first time in a long time. We’ve worked too hard for this, for where we are now.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” His eyes convey his apology, but you can see he’s been keeping this inside for way too long. “But I really don’t think I can ever imagine my life without you.”
“You won’t have to, we have a child-“
“Yes, I know.” It comes out a bit harsh, but he doesn’t mean for it to be. “But just the thought that you might end up with someone else.. it’s like a fucking tumor inside my brain.”
The rawness in Eren's voice strikes a chord within you, and you can't help but empathize with the pain he's expressing. It's clear that his feelings are genuine and that he's been wrestling with them for some time. Yet, despite the empathy you feel, you know that the health of your family dynamic is at stake.
“Eren.” You say softly but firmly, “We have a little kid together. I don’t want to screw her up like my parents did me. I want her to be happy.”
“Don’t you think she will be, though? All she does is ask me when I’m moving back. We’ve never fought in front of her. You know I’d never let that happen.”
“Yes, but we did fight a lot last time. I don’t want to live like that, like my-“
“Hey, we are not your parents, okay?” He cradles your face in his hands, and that’s when you realise there were tears forming in the corners of your eyes, “Stop thinking about them and just think about us.” 
You stay like that, looking up at him, his touch gentle and comforting.
“I’m so sorry about last time, believe me. I’ve learned from my mistakes. And I know it’s hard for you, but I’ll show you. All I want is for you and our baby to be happy.”
The warmth of Eren's hands on your face and the sincerity in his eyes make it hard to maintain the walls you've built to protect yourself. 
“I love you to death, y’know that, right?”
And then, it’s all over.
“Eren..“, you hiccup, crumbling into his arms, sobbing quietly as the emotional dam breaks. The stress of holding back, of trying to be strong and keep everything together, is suddenly too much. Eren's arms wrap around you, a sturdy presence in the midst of your vulnerability.
"I know, I know," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he holds you close. "I'm here. I've got you."
The comfort of his embrace allows you to let go, if only for a moment, of the fears and doubts that have been haunting you. In the safety of his arms, you allow yourself to feel the full extent of your emotions—the love, the hurt, the hope, and the uncertainty.
“There’s never going to be anyone else for me. Ever.” He whispers, “I’m willing to do the work. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
You feel the steady beat of his heart against your ear, a rhythm that once felt as familiar as your own. He loves you. He truly does, and you know that, you’ve always known. After a moment, he brings you back by the shoulders so he can look at your face.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Stop it.”
You try to hide yourself in your hands, but he catches them softly.
“It’s true. No one else compares, baby.” He brings his hands to your hips, and your heart skips a beat. “No one.” 
“Eren..”, you say his name softly, eyes glued to his pretty lips.
“Yeah?” He reciprocates your tone, and you’re sure he’s caught on the change of atmosphere. Of course he has, he’s the one who started it.
“I’ve missed you, too.” You encircle your arms around his neck, bringing him even closer.
“Shit, not as much as me.” He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, “It was like a part of me was gone. The only time I felt happy was when I was with our baby girl.. and when I’d see you.”
“I.. I didn’t know what to do. I thought this was the best decision, but.. I was so sad, Eren.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” He rubs soothing circles around your hips, “If I wasn’t such an idiot, this wouldn’t have happened.” 
You stay like that for a while before he catches your chin between his fingers, making your eyes meet. “Do you love me still?”
Even if you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t bring yourself to.
“.. Yes.”
You’d never seen him smile like that. It was the purest, most joyful smile you’ve ever seen on a person. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling your face closer until your lips meet, the kiss soft but passionate, one that sends butterflies across your whole being, one that you’ve dreamed about for the past 5 months. 
When the kiss ends, his gaze rests on your face, “Then..”, he removes a strand of hair behind your ear, “if you still trust me, give us another chance, Y/n.”
You’re embarrassed by how aroused you feel in this moment, with his body pressed against yours, faces inches away. 
“Kiss me again.” You whisper before pulling him to you again, this time taking the lead, your hands leading his to your lower back, signaling for him to pick you up. Eren doesn’t need an explanation with words, he knows exactly what you want. And even though he wants it more than anything in the world right now, he still knows that he needs to be cautious, to ensure that this is what you truly want and not just a momentary lapse driven by old feelings and the intimacy of the moment.
He looks into your eyes, searching for confirmation, for the certainty that this step is one you both want to take. "Are you sure?" he asks quietly, his voice a mix of desire and concern. The last thing he wants is to rush you or make a decision that could complicate the fragile progress you've been making.
"Yes," you reply, your voice steady, eyes locked with his. There's a clarity in your decision, a conscious choice that speaks to the connection you still share. You're aware of the significance of this moment, of the potential it has to either rekindle something beautiful or to reignite past pains. But right now, you're choosing to focus on the present, on the longing you feel, and the man before you who still holds your heart.
“Take me to bed, Eren. Please.”
With your affirmation, Eren gently lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he supports you with strong arms. The kiss deepens, fueled by longing and a profound familiarity that has never truly faded. It's a dance of lips and breath, a silent conversation that speaks volumes about the love and tension that have always characterized your relationship.
Eren carries you with a tenderness that belies his strength, each step towards the bedroom measured and deliberate. The world outside this moment—the doubts, the history, the fears—falls away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable pull that has always existed between you.
As he lays you down on the bed, there's a reverence in his touch, a silent promise to cherish and respect the trust you're placing in him. He kisses your lips, your cheeks, your chin, and each kiss is a wordless vow, a gentle affirmation of his love for you. Eren's lips move with a purpose, tracing a path of passion across your neck, your soft breaths an indication that he’s on the right path. When he reaches the buttons of your shirt, his eyes meet yours again, a silent question lingering in them, seeking permission to continue. You nod slightly, watching as he undoes each button slowly. When he realises you’re not wearing a bra, he lets out a low groan before taking a nipple inside his mouth. You moan, his expert tongue drawing circles around the nub, making you feel a warmth at the pit of your stomach. His fingers go to the other breast, squeezing it not too gently, something you understand given the fact he hasn’t touched you in more than five months. 
“You have the most perfect tits.” The comment pulls a soft giggle out of you, one that disappears the moment his palm lands on your clothed heat. Now he’s the one smiling, his tongue still working your sensitive nipples. He knew you loved it when he played with your breasts.
When he decides to keep going down, he lets go of your tit with a bop, then kisses down your navel, paying attention to every part of your unclothed body.
“I’ve thought about this every day.” A kiss. “Every night.” A lick. “Every fucking hour you weren’t with me.” A suckle.
Your moans echo through the bedroom as Eren undoes the belt on your jeans, chuckling when your impatient self lifts your hips to help him remove the garments more easily. He does as you wish, throwing your jeans onto the floor, cursing when he sees your white panties are soaked with your essence.
“It’s been so long, huh, baby?” He draws soothing circles around your clothed clit, “You missed me here?” 
“Yes, yes,” you’re restless, moving against his hand, trying to bring yourself more pleasure. “Please, Eren, please, I can’t wait any longer.”
“You won’t have to, baby, I promise.” And even if he didn’t, his erection was beginning to feel more painful than pleasurable. He needed to be inside you.
“I have to make you cum first, though.” He says firmly, “I need you to cum on my tongue.”
“No, just- please, can we do that later? I just, I need-“
“No.” And then you feel his tongue on your clit, and you have to put your hands against your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loudly. He’s always been so, so good at eating you out, always taking his time with it, until you were creaming inside his mouth, trying to get away from him from how sensitive he’d made you after cumming so many times. 
When he pushes his middle finger in, you start losing your mind. 
“Oh fuck, you’re drenched. Do you want another one?” 
He was such a good fucking talker, too. 
“Do it, do it, please-“
And that, he did, moving them in and out of you, then spitting on his other hand so it could go up to your breast and rub around your nipple. The combination, needless to say, makes you cum within seconds. 
Your whole body tenses as you let out a strained moan of his name, the strength of your orgasm leaving you completely breathless. It’s the kind of orgasm you feel on your fingertips, the type that makes every touch to your body electrifying.  
“I’m sorry, baby, I just couldn’t help it.” You faintly hear Eren’s voice, accompanied by the sound of clothes rustling that you believe are his. When you finally have the strength to look down, you see his beautiful, naked body before you, his cock finally free from its contentment. It’s a sight for sore eyes, and yours sure were that. His mouth shines with your liquids, and you don’t know why you’re blushing, as if you didn’t have this man’s child. He smiles down at you before he starts rubbing his tip at your entrance, hissing from how wet you are.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says, so gently, as if he’s not about to rock your whole world. “It hurt missing you so much.”
You want to kiss him in that moment, tell him it’s going to be fine, that you still love him, but you’re deprived of that opportunity when he pushes in, stretching your walls because of how big he is. Even though you were prepped, it still stung a little, and you think Eren knows because his strokes are slow and gentle, easing his way inside you.
“You feel amazing.” He whispers as he brings himself down to give you a sloppy kiss, your moans synchronising as he moves inside you. Your hands roam around his strong back, unconsciously pulling him down so you can feel him deeper.
“You want it harder, baby?” He asks between kisses, and you nod frantically, like it’s the only thing you will ever want in your life. When he begins to fuck you in a hastier pace, filling you up to the brim, he has to put his palm in front of your mouth so you don’t wake your sleeping daughter up.
“Shh, I know, I feel it too,” he has a hard time controlling himself as well, your pussy sucking him in so deliciously, he thinks he can stay like this forever. “Look at your tits bouncing. Just- if you could see yourself right now. You’re unreal.”
His words go to one place and one place only, making it even more pleasurable when he hits your spot over and over again.
“Rub your clit.” He instructs, sounding more and more out of breath. “I want you to cum with me.”
You do as you’re told, your fingers working on your sensitive bud as Eren stands back on his knees, his abs flexing with every move of his hips. He was becoming sloppier, like he was losing control of his rhythm, his fingers plunged into the fat of your ass as he moved you onto his dick. 
“Rub them faster.” He groans, “I’m so fucking close.”
“Oh, god!” Your body bounces on the mattress as you feel the nearing rush of your second orgasm approaching. “It’s coming, I’m- oh fuck, I’m gonna-“
“Me too, shit, shit, I love you,”, he fucks you through both your orgasms, lips swallowing your desperate moans, with a little tear rolling down your face from all the stimulation and his confession. No matter how many times you heard it, it still pulled an emotional reaction out of you.
When Eren’s hips come to a halt, he doesn’t pull out immediately, choosing to stay close to you and pepper your neck and shoulders with open-mouthed kisses. You’re spent, trying to catch your non-existing breath as your hand rubs gentle circles around your lover’s back. 
“I still can’t believe this happened.”
You smile against his ruffled hair, “Well, you better believe it because you just fucked the shit out of me.”
Your laughters fill the bedroom air, making the atmosphere lighter after the emotional rollercoaster that was the past hour. Eren cradles your face in his hands, and you just can’t imagine being any less happy than you are in this moment, “I’m never, ever letting you go again. Understand?” His voice is firm yet filled with a warmth that resonates with every beat of your heart.
You gaze into Eren's eyes, seeing the determination and love that shine back at you. His declaration, so full of certainty, wraps around you like a comforting embrace.
"I wouldn’t want you to," you reply, reaching your hand up to caress his cheek. "But we have to promise each other something, Eren. We have to promise that we'll communicate, be honest, and work through things together. No running, no hiding—just us, facing everything as a team."
Eren nods, the seriousness of your words not lost on him. "I told you, I’ll do whatever it takes.", and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he means it.
You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a seal to the vows you've just exchanged. It's a kiss that speaks of new beginnings, of forgiveness, and of the love that has weathered the storm.
Eren nestles his head against your chest, finding solace in the steady thrum of your heartbeat, while your fingers tenderly weave through his hair, caressing him with every affectionate stroke.
“What will we tell your mini-you?”
“That I slept on the couch. She’ll be so happy she won’t even care about anything else.”
You let out a chuckle, “That, she will be.”
And as you fall asleep in each others arms, the world outside fades into insignificance. The comfort of Eren's weight against you, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, and the softness of his hair beneath your fingertips are the only realities that matter. That will ever matter.
…..
A/N: I’m having a writer’s strike and this is what came out of it. It.. surely takes a turn lol. But what is love without a little angst😅 byeee
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aliaology · 3 days
Text
WANT ME DEAD
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summary: loving and being loved by jack hughes was supposed to feel like a breath of fresh air— but the air was quickly stripped from your lungs when you realized it was never real
pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader
warnings: heavy angst, one sided love, bets, death
uhm heavily UNEDITED LOLL she kinda sucks but
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you knew jack was the one for you the moment he came up to you after one of his games just to apologize for someone in the crowd accidentally pouring their beer on you— someone who he had no idea existed.
you knew jack was the one for you when he would make an effort to call you every night, always waiting for you to answer before saying, “hey, pretty girl.”
you knew jack was the one for you when he came to your house the night after your brother got into a car crash. he held you tightly— whispered sweet nothings into your ear as his hold never loosened.
you knew jack was the one for you the moment ‘i love you’ slipped through his lips; like little secrets only he wanted you to know.
but, your entire relationship wasn’t private— no it was entirely public. not public in you posting each other, but public in him telling every little detail to his best friends: trevor and cole.
you realized jack was a shitty man the day you overheard him on the phone. his voice; the one you grew to love, was speaking to trevor.
you realized jack was a cruel man the day you heard him admit out loud to his mother how this was all fake. you realized his mother was an admiring woman the moment she started to yell at him. you realized jack would never be a good person the moment he lied to you.
“was any of it real to you?” you whispered as you looked at his back. you watched him tense up before turning to you.
“what—what do you mean?” he was acting oblivious— sinking into it.
“how much of our relationship was fake to you, jack?” you spoke, your eyes held pain in them as you teared up.
“where is this coming from, baby?” he asked.
you let out a scoff mixed with a choked sob. “why are you still performing in front of me? im not stupid jack, ive heard you! you called me stupid for believing this. you just told your mom it was just because you wanted money.”
“baby..” jack spoke lowly. his eyes held guilt, anger.
“were you sent by someone? someone who wanted me dead? because you are fucking killing me, jack. ive been back and forth with myself, trying to convince my head that you were lying; or even just joking. ive tried for defending you against my head for so fucking long, jack.”
you watched as ellen stood there; clearly torn apart by the entire thing. of course she loves her son, but he was ruining you.
“you knew i loved you— you knew that and you still did this? you couldn’t have a fucking heart and just reject me?” you were desperate— desperate for his love, even after this.
“i didnt want to hurt you..” he trailed off.
you let out another scoff. “good fucking riddance”
you had tears running down your cheeks. you turned around, trying to not let him see you cry. you felt his hand touch your shoulder— which you quickly shrugged it away.
“dont you dare— you have no right.. no right to touch me right now.” you were a mess— a full on mess. “you— i let you see all of me, all of it.” you brokenly whispered.
“i let you in— you came to my brothers funeral for fucks sake, jack! i cried on your shoulder— you told me, you said so many things.” you cried out.
jack watched you break down, his brows furrowed as guilt washed over him.
“i took you to my moms grave.” you whimpered out, your lip quivering as you shakily spoke.
ellen came over, her arm wrapping around your shoulders. “come on sweetie, lets get you outside.” she whispered.
you sobbed into your hands as she began to lead you outside. “mom—“ jack tried to speak but was immediately cut off by the look she gave him.
that night, you declared ellen hughes as your savior. that night, you declared jack hughes as the shittiest man to exist. the smallest man who ever lived.
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i need to make a new taglist bc i forgot everyone and it was so messy last time 😭😭 lmk if u want tags from now on babes!!
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rougecreator1 · 3 days
Note
Hello! How are you? Hope you're doing good. I was wondering if I could request a Poly!Pastics x reader where the reader is a HUGE people pleaser and R does everything for everyone and it got so bad to where R stayed awake for three weeks straight to have time to make everyone happy. The girls have enough and force force their girlfriend to sleep and not stress over other people?
Sorry if it's too much or top specific.
Whats One More?||
|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader
(i myself am poly!)
|| Warnings: swearing, super long, Reader's absolutely exhausted, Regina being Regina, comfort (i dont think there's too many, if i missed something lmk)
|| Summary: Reader keeps helping out everyone to the point where it begins to effect her sleep schedule. Ms. Norbury notices and brings it to the attention of the plastics, who comfort Reader and get Reader to sleep.
Requests open!
Started: April 20th
Finished: April 21st
~~~
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To say you were a people pleaser would be an understatement. You weren't sure if there was a better word to describe it, maybe... doormat? You couldn't say no to save your life. It was a genuine problem that often spiralled beyond your control. Well, you could control it. If you just said no. But that was mean. You hated the thought of anyone hating you, so you worked overtime to make sure that never happened.
Today was no different.
"Hey, Y/N! Wait up!" Shane Omen yelled your name from across the hall as you stood at your locker, making you internally groan. You didn't like Shane but you never showed it. You forced out a smile as you looked at him.
"What's up, Shane?" You asked, keeping your tone your signature calm one. As opposed to the internal screaming that was going on in your head. Why couldn't he just leave you alone? You had been having an amazing day before he showed up.
"Mind doing my homework for me? I'm just so busy this week that I have no time for it. Oh, and my buddies too. I'll pay ya." He smirked at you, clearly trying to use whatever charm he could muster. This wasn't the first time it's happened. His friend had walked up next to him, holding a large stack of papers up to his chest which you could only assume was the entirety of Shane's friend groups overdo homework.
You held back a sigh.
"Yeah. When do you need it done by?" You asked. Reluctantly. You hated the thought of doing all that extra work, but then again you hated the thought of someone hating you more than you hated the idea of doing the homework. So you'd do it. On top of your own you already had to do, plus you had promised Karen you'd help her out with hers.
"This Friday." He replied, gesturing for his friend to give you the work. Which he did. He practically shoved it into you.
The sudden weight added to your binders almost made you stumble, this Friday? It was fucking Wednesday. That gave you two nights. Shit, you'd have to pull all nighters in order to get this done, your own work, AND help Karen. Maybe Karen should come first, since she was her girlfriend. Restart.
Karen, your own work, and Shane's shit. That's the order you gathered in your head. You could help Karen out tonight, get your own work done after and get it all done in one session so you could focus the rest of the day tomorrow on Shane's stuff. Yeah, that could work.
"Yeah... I got it. You don't have to pay." You smiled at him, he gave your shoulder a playful nudge. Sure, the money for your time would be nice. But you hated the thought of taking someone's money. Even if it was Shane Omen's.
"You're amazing, Y/N!" Shane and his buddy walked off, high fiving each other and clasping their hands together with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and readjusted the papers and your binder with your knee. Sighing at the sight of the stack you now held.
Finale bell went, showing the end of the day. Which you were grateful for.
You moved the papers and binders to one side so you could hold it with a single arm comfortably. Then opened your locker with your now free hand, holding your knee up to keep the papers from slipping. Grimacing slightly at your awkward option as you pulled your bag from your locker, stumbling back as the bag came out. Though your balance was caught by Gretchen, who gave you a soft smile and held you as you gathered your footing. Slinging the bag on your shoulder then holding the papers with both arms again.
"Thanks, baby." You smiled at your girlfriend, Karen quickly came up behind her and smiled at you.
"Y/N!" She gave you a quick hug, you kissed Karen's cheek since your hands were too full to hug her back.
Gretchen looked at all the stuff in your arms and raised an eyebrow," What's all that?"
"Shane's stuff. He needed some extra help." You explain briefly, not giving too many details. Gretchen narrowed her eyes at that. You were helping Shane? Shane Omen? Why?
She was going to ask more, when Karen suddenly frowned and interrupted.
"You're still helping me tonight, right?"
"No yeah, yeah of course! Come over to mine when Regina drops us off, okay?" You assure her, feeling a little bad for making her think you wouldn't be able to help her too. Even if it was an accident. As for Regina dropping you off, she pretty much always takes you to and from school along with Karen & Gretchen.
Karen smiles gratefully at you and pulls you in for a kiss, you happily kiss her back and Gretchen takes a photo of the two of you.
"That's so cute! It's going on our shared insta." Gretchen says with a little squeal, opening insta on her phone and going to the shared account you all have access to. She posts the photo with the caption: look at these cuties 🥺💕
You break the kiss and smile at Gretchen, your group text then goes off with a text from Regina.
|| Regina: where the hell are all of you?? I'll leave you here if you dont hurry your asses.
There's a pause before another text comes in.
|| Regina: YOU BETTER NOT BE MAKING OUT WITHOUT ME
You laughed when you read that one, Gretchen giggled too and you glanced at Karen with an innocent grin.
"She must've seen the photo." You say with a laugh, the girls nod their heads in agreement and the three of you head to Regina's jeep. You didn't want to keep her waiting longer than you already have.
At the jeep, Karen and Gretchen got in the back while you took your usual seat in the front next to Regina. Who was already looking at you expectantly.
"Just a sec," You tell her, attempting to stuff your binders and additional papers into your bag so they didn't blow away when Regina drove. Considering her jeep had no doors, something you found awfully inconvenient.
Regina groans and rolls her eyes," Ugh. Why do you have so much extra papers anyway?"
"Helping Shane." You reply, part of you had wanted to lie because you knew Regina wouldn't like the answer. But if she found out about the lie (and she always does) that would've made things way worse.
Regina looked offended," What? Seriously? Why the fuck?"
"He asked and I couldn't say no.." You admit in a mumble, making Regina narrow her eyes at you.
"You gotta work on that. Seriously, Y/N." Regina says, you finally get everything to fit in your bag before you looked at her with a frown.
"You know, Regina's right Y/N." Gretchen pipes up, leaning forward and resting her arm on Regina's back seat as she looks at you with a concerned gaze." You take on way too much from other people."
"But they'll get mad if I say no." You respond, turning your gaze to Gretchen for a moment.
"So? Fuck them, let them get mad." Regina shrugged and grabbed your chin, making you look at her before kissing you roughly. Your eyes widened at the suddenness of it but you melted into the kiss. She broke it off and wiped your bottom lip with her thumb, smirking at you," You owed me a kiss."
You blushed deeply and she laughed at your reaction, shaking her head and starting up her car.
"You're too easy. But fuck, Y/N. You gotta stop letting people walk all over you. You're not a fucking doormat." Regina's words may have been harsh, but they were the truth. You did need to stop letting people walk all over you.
~~~
But maybe not today. It was now Monday. You had managed to get everything done for Friday, much to your own sacrifice. You haven't slept a wink since Tuesday night before everything happened. And you were starting to feel it. Sure you could have slept on the weekend, but your girls dragged you around to house parties both Saturday night and Sunday night. You stayed sober to keep an eye on them and be the designated driver and you probably could have slept when you got them home, but you wanted to make sure nothing happened throughout the night. So you've been awake for almost a week straight. It was hell.
Today you had Chess Club, an extra curricular club you had chosen. You managed to get your girlfriends to agree to let you do it, Gretchen had put up a bit of an argument but when she saw how good you were at the game she let it slide.
You sat in your usual spot at the library, a chess board in front of you as played off against your best friend; Flow Scotts (short for Florence). You guys had met when you joined Chess Club, having been paired together day one. The two of you were a pretty even match and would face off against each other frequently, which built the friendship between the two of you.
You studied the board as you rubbed one of your eyes, plotting your next move while trying to stay awake. She already had you in check with her bishop, so you moved your own bishop to block hers. With the Queen defending the bishop it was a solid move, if she decided to take your piece blocking your King you could safely take hers with your Queen. sorry to the non-chess nerds who aren't going to really understand my rambles here.
Flow made a huff sound and you laughed, smiling at her when someone comes to sit next to your table. You didn't recognize him, so you assumed he must've been new to the Club as he watched your game with an interest only Chess Club members seemed to have in their eyes.
Flow blinks and looks up from the board, getting distracted from whatever strategy she had been forming in her head." Can we help you?"
"Oh! Hi! Um, Mr. Rapp told me I could come join you guys here. And like observe and maybe play winner. I'm James." He introduces himself, you and Flow glanced at each other and you shrugged.
"Alright. This is Flow, I'm-" He stops you with a smile.
"Y/N. I know, everyone knows. You're dating the plastics." James says, you sighed. You hated when people called them that. They were so much more than 'the plastics' behind closed doors.
"Right." You nodded your head.
"Also, I'm still sort of new to Chess and Mr. Rapp said that one of you could help me out with like extra chess lessons after school?" James continued on, you glanced at Flow.
"I have soccer practice after soccer today." Flow looks back at you. Flow didn't play soccer, she clearly just didn't want to tutor him.
"Yeah, okay. I'll do it. Meet here five minutes after the bell." You tell James, who gives you a grateful smile.
You had a test you had wanted to study for after school and a project you had wanted to use the school lab computers for, but now you were stuck tutoring James. You figured you could just pull another all nighter to get the work done. What's one more?
~~
Well, one more turned into many more. It's been a total of three weeks since you last had a decent, solid sleep and it was really affecting your grades. People just kept asking things of you and you couldn't tell them no. It was bad.
Ms. Norbury was the first to notice your grades dropping, as your grades in math were pretty solid. They weren't mathletes worthy but they weren't completely low either. You averaged a 75%, which had now dropped down to 68% with your lack of sleep and focus in class.
You were currently in math, which was your fourth period. Trying desperately to pay attention and not fall asleep. Though at one point you droop so low your head hits the table, startling you into a more upright position as people stared at you in confusion. Ms. Norbury narrowed her eyes, sleeping in class wasn't like you. She was sure something was wrong.
"Okay, everybody take 5." She says, people get up and head out while she walks over to you.
"Y/N? Everything alright?"
"Just tired." You tell her in a mumble, you weren't a mumbler.
"Honey, when was the last time you slept?" She asked, crouching down in front of your desk to get a better look at you. She frowned as she saw the dark circles and the very evident exhaustion.
You simply shrugged, to you her voice felt far and distant so you had to put all your remaining energy into hearing her. You couldn't remember the last time you had a good sleep. You knew it had been a while ago, though. All your days just felt as though they had blended together.
That concerned Ms. Norbury further, she debated if she should just send you home at this rate. After all it was just fourth period and she was sure you'd have people in other classes who could get the work you missed.
"Come on, Y/N. How about we call one of your parents and have them come get you?" She said softly, knowing a good sleep at home would be what you needed.
When you heard that you shook your head, you knew your parents wouldn't come get you. Even if you had been throwing up they'd tell you to tough it out.
"They wouldn't.." You say in a mumble, Ms. Norbury frowns at that and tries to think of a plan B. She knew the various cliques and which students hung out with who, so she knew you were close with the plastics. The question was which one would be come get you? Little did she know any one of them would do it in a heartbeat.
She sighed quietly to herself and stood up," Alright, just wait here." She tells you before heading to the class phone and giving someone a call. You weren't sure who.
About five minutes pass before Gretchen comes running into the room, when she saw you she paused and looked at Ms. Norbury. They seemed to have some silent conversation, no. Their mouths were moving. You just couldn't focus enough to hear what they were saying.
You slumped back in your seat and your eyes started to close, exhaustion catching up to you when you felt hands on your shoulders and looked to see Gretchen watching you with worry all over her face.
Gretchen had known that something was wrong. She knew it from the start, but every time she tried to talk about it with you you would just say 'tired' and nothing else so she gave up pressing you on it. She knew she should have tried harder to get the information out of you.
Even Regina had tried too at one point, she noticed when you weren't fully present in a conversation she was having with you. You just kept replying with 'mhm' 'uh huh' and so she tested it by saying 'I dont know what to wear to school tomorrow, think I should go topless?' you replied with a simple 'yepper' and that basically confirmed for her that you weren't listening. So, when she asked what was wrong after getting your attention, you just replied 'tired' to her too. She didn't think to press further.
"Y/N, are you listening?" Gretchen asked, a frown on her lips after she had snapped her fingers to get your attention. You blinked and looked at her.
"Huh?" You didn't realize she had been trying to talk with you.
"I'm taking you to Regina's, Ms. George will come get us." Ms. George was your backup. If one of you needed to go home for whatever reason or just wanted to skip and relax, she always said that she would come get you girls," I texted the groupchat and told them what was going on. They're on their way over, just hang tight. Okay?"
You nodded and not too long after all three were standing before you, Ms. Norbury was back at her desk. Letting you girls have your space.
"You look exhausted." Karen points out. Leave it to Karen to point out the obvious.
Regina narrows her eyes at her and sighs before looking back at you, resting her hand to your cheek and rubbing it gently with her thumb. You lean in a little closer to her touch," Why haven't you been sleeping?"
"Busy." You reply, unable to gather enough energy to say more. The three exchanged looks.
"Busy with what?" Regina replied, she knew you had your Chess Club, tutoring Karen, and your own work on top of that but she didn't think that was enough to get you this tired.
"Helping people." You explain, talking simply again. She groaned at that. That's what caused this?
"Baby, I thought I told you to say no?" Regina takes her hand off you, you feel the warmth leave and you almost slump forward on your desk. You'd been using her hand as support. Her hands rest on her hips as Gretchen catches you and keeps you up, giving your forehead a soft kiss.
"Mean." You respond.
"Excuse me?" Regina looked offended, thinking you had called her mean. You shook your head and desperately looked at Gretchen to translate.
Gretchen tensed, racking her brain to think of what you meant," Did you mean saying 'no' was mean?"
You nodded.
"That's not mean. You can always say no, that's what Gretchen says to me all the time." Karen pipes up, Gretchen gives her a soft look and nods in agreement.
"Y/N/N, you're allowed to have boundaries." Gretchen tells you," is it really worth it if it's doing this to you?"
You were going to respond but there was a knock at the door, you glanced at it and saw Flow there.
"Hey, Y/N. I would've texted but I was walking by here anyway, you coming to Chess tonight?" She asked.
Regina scoffed and folded her arms," Absolutely not. Fuck off."
"Regina, language!" Ms. Norbury narrowed her eyes at the blonde who rolled her own.
Flow tensed at Regina's harshness and looked at you. Gretchen scrambles a response.
"What Regina meant is that Y/N is just super tired, she's going home to rest tonight. Right, baby?" Gretchen looked at you. Expecting you to agree.
Regina looked at you with a look that was basically commanding you to tell Flow 'no'. You hated it.
"Resting tonight..." You grumbled, continuing to speak in simple terms.
Flow's gaze shifted to concern but she nodded her head," okay.. let me know how you're doing later, alright?" She left after that.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Regina kept her gaze on you.
"Awful." You shook your head, disagreeing with her which makes her scoff.
Soon enough, Ms. George comes and picks all three of you up. Bringing you to their place. You were brought to Regina's bed by your girlfriends, who all snuggled up with you in bed. Gretchen on your right, Karen on the left and Regina on top. You easily fell asleep once Regina started giving your neck soft, soothing kisses. Your girls stayed close to you.
You slept for a solid 24 hours and some.
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sixx-sixx-sixx · 3 days
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LADY BRIDGERTON - Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader (smut)
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Summary: Reader has been married to Anthony Bridgerton for too long, it feels, although it has only been a few years. In that short time, not only has he only touched her naked body once, but he comes home most nights smelling of sweat and another woman’s perfume. Lady Whistledown has caught wind of this, and the gossip sends Lady Bridgerton over the edge. Anthony takes the time to give his wife exactly what she’s asking for.
Warnings: smut; badly written smut lol; infidelity; arguments about infidelity; possibly out of character anthony; I’ve only watched season 1 of Bridgerton; breeding kink; unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it but this is a married couple); female reader/use of she/her pronouns; as always, proofread to the best of my ability
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“Do you wish to make a fool of me?” Anthony leaned down to whisper in his young wife’s ear, a firm hand grabbing her elbow as he interrupted her conversation with a young man from Russia, or Hungary. He didn’t pay much mind to the boy so much as the woman who bore his last name, fully aware of the way she had been subtly flirting with many men that night. Taking count of the glasses of bubbles she had — she was nursing her fourth flute, Anthony had decided it was enough.
Don’t make a scene.
Lady Bridgerton felt an intense urge to strike her husband across his cheek, how dare he accuse her of making a fool out of him. All evening she had overheard whispers of Anthony’s name from nasty gossipers. The young Bridgertons had been the central characters in the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. Rumor has it that Lord Bridgerton had continued an affair with a certain singer, without bothering to hide it from his young wife. Even worse? Lady Bridgerton knew, as they all knew, and never seemed to let the truth affect how she presented herself to those around her.
“Would you like me to answer that truthfully, my dear husband?” She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes alight with a burning fury towards the unfaithful man she had devoted her life to. She jerked her arm away from his grip and started to lift the glass to her painted lips. Anthony grabbed the dainty piece of glass and shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough. It’s time for you to go home.”
A bitter laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it, as a few heads turned to observe the titular couple. “If that is your wish, Mr. Bridgerton.” She turned on her heel and started to make her way out to the cold air, cursing herself for leaving her coat in the carriage. She didn’t even bother to wait for her husband to catch up as she informed the valet they would be leaving.
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The carriage ride to the estate wasn’t anything special. She would sit and seethe in silence during the ride, her eyes burning a hole through Anthony’s forehead as he sat across from her. The argument began once the couple was behind the safety of their bedroom door, standing in front of each other with defenses up. “We have been married for two years, Anthony! Two years and the only time you have touched me was on our wedding night. Yet every night you come home, to OUR bed, smelling like some whore’s perfume! I am left to listen to the ton gossip about MY empty bed!” She nearly hissed the words to punctuate her accusations. Anthony had never seen such an outburst from the young woman, she had never spoken to him like that before. She was standing before him, the drinks she had at the ball fueling her anger and simultaneously allowing the anger to sober her head.
“I know that I wasn’t who you wanted to marry, I understand that this was just a beneficial arrangement for you. But I expect that as the woman who now holds your family name, who will one day bear your children, that you could at the very least respect me!” She was angry that he had just stood there and watched her yell, but at the same time, she wouldn’t let him get a word in.
“You cannot expect me to be a dutiful wife and lady if you refuse to grant me at least the tiniest shred of dignity. You, sir, make a fool of yourself, I am merely seeking that same kind of attention you seek from Siena.” Her voice dripped with sickly sweet venom as she spat the woman’s name.
Anthony allowed the woman to speak her mind on his infidelity, finally admitting to himself that he had been unfair to her. He frequently came into their room in the middle of the night when he expected the woman to be asleep. In the beginning of the marriage, he had at least tried to hide the evidence, changing his clothes before he climbed under the blankets next to her. Now, she was accustomed to him laying down beside her without even taking off the shirt that was stained with Siena’s stage makeup and that reeked of her pungent perfume.
“I do not understand, Anthony. I can come to terms with a loveless marriage, but I am so exhausted by knowing you’re giving her that kind of attention, and I have remained loyal to you despite the obvious signs of your affair-“ her rant was abruptly cut short when Anthony floated over to her, his hands gripping her cheeks with fervor as he crashed his lips to hers. Taking only a moment to stand in shock, she pressed her lips back against his, her hand reaching to grip onto the front of his overcoat. Desperately reaching for more, trying to edge him closer to their bed but ultimately allowing him full control over her mind, body and soul. She let out a disappointed whimper when his lips parted from hers, his face inches from her own.
“What is it that you want from me, woman? You wish for me to touch you the way I touch her? Or do you believe my hands to be too stained?” She hated how close his lips were, desperately trying to reach forward as he spoke his mind. She didn’t really care how improper the words sounded as they came from his mouth, because she DID want him to touch her- not just touch, she wanted him to fuck her the way he fucked his mistress.
She took a moment to find her words, not expecting her confrontation to lead to this moment. “Anthony, I am your wife. All I want is for you to- to fuck me the way a husband fucks his wife.”
Understanding that he had a year’s worth of missing passion to make up for, and seeing that deep down he had no other choice than to obey the woman before him, he easily obliged. In this moment, Siena didn’t exist to him. He was purely focused on making sure his duties as a husband were thoroughly taken care of. Tonight, he would go to sleep smelling of his wife’s soft scent, making sure to cover the woman in marks of his affection.
Little time was wasted in getting their clothes off. A mess of hands clashing together to try and undo buttons and layers and loops, the couple grasping at each other as though they were desperate for the other as a life source.
Anthony paused for a moment to admire his lady’s body in the soft candlelight, letting his hands first run over the delectable curve of her hips, trailing up her sides before settling on her supple breasts.
“I’m sorry that I have spent so long torturing you, making you only imagine my hands touching you like this. I promise, my lady, I will do a much better job at attending to whatever it is you wish from me.” Anthony promised as his eyes stayed locked with hers. Her pupils were blown wide, and he realized he didn’t even know what color her irises were meant to be. He told himself he’d be a better husband to her after this, wanting to ensure her place in society as his wife. He’d fuck her full of his seed tonight, and every night after that, to make sure that Lady Whistledown could never accuse him of neglecting his wife’s desires again.
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“Please, my lord, please--“ Lady Bridgerton sounded deliciously desperate, and it excited Anthony in a way that he had never experienced in his years-long affairs with Siena. It spurred him to plunge his cock deeper into his wife, his hand pushing her thigh down to her shoulder as he positioned her to angle himself deeper. She would probably think about the pressure against her cervix for the rest of her life, praying to God that she’d be able to experience this side of her husband for the rest of their lives together.
“What is it that you want, Lady Bridgerton? Tell me with words, my love, I want to hear you say it.” In this close position he could make sure she could look into his eyes to see he was genuine in this moment.
She was surprised at his stamina and determination tonight, focused more on her body than chasing his own release. A complete contrast to their wedding night, she felt like he treated the consummation as a chore. This was a much, much better experience. She had lost count of the times he had made her cum tonight, and the ways he had coaxed her orgasms from her.
“Anthony- Christ! Please don’t stop, want you to fuck me full til i’m round with your child-“ her voice was ragged and on the verge of giving out after not holding back a single sound. She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded begging for what seemed like the bare minimum from her husband.
Anthony leaned down to capture her lips in a messy kiss, reaching down to grab her hand that was tangled in the sheets beneath her. He caught any noises that escaped her, the sounds muffled against his own mouth, moving to hold her hand above her head. She clutched at his hand and whimpered his name as his hips stilled after a few sloppy thrusts, thick ropes coating her walls.
Anthony stayed put for a moment so as to not waste a drop, pulling his lips from hers before ghosting them over the hammering pulse in her neck. He gently maneuvered her pliable body into a resting position, slowly pulling himself from her and getting up from the bed.
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After he had gently cleaned up the mess he had made of the woman, Anthony peppered soft kisses over her stomach as he made his way up to lay down next to her. She instantly curled into his chest and closed her eyes, taking her time in coming down from the cloud she was on. She could feel his fingers gently combing through her mussed hair, the sensation slowly bringing her back to earth.
“Are you alright, Lady Bridgerton?” Anthony spoke softly to not spook her, his arms locked safely around her keeping her pressed to his body. Her lips quirked into a smile and he took notice of the way her cheek dimpled, his thumb moving to stroke over the small impression.
“I am absolutely content, Lord Bridgerton.” She opened her eyes to look up at her husband’s face. Anthony smiled as he kissed her again, a kiss so tender that nearly brought tears to her eyes.
“I may not be the perfect husband, but I vow to do better by you. I will end things with Siena and tend to the parts of you that I’ve been neglectful of.” Anthony made a promise to her after he had pulled away. His wife reached up to grab his hand in hers, moving it to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles before she spoke.
“You can use all of the sweet words that you want, you’ll still have to prove yourself with actions.” She squeezed his hand gently, “But I think this has been good start.”
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f1girliefics · 13 hours
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Pregnancy Blues - Short
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Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: You got your first ultrasound.
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Lando blamed everyone and himself for having to skip today’s appointment.
If it wasn’t for his practice, he would have gone with you. 
But he couldn’t be there.
Yet every second he took to check his phone.
He saw texts from you.
Hi Lando, we are going to the appointment now. Love you.
We are here. Waiting for the doctor now.
I’m going in, wish us luck.
And nothing after that. It was the last text and nothing came after that.
It had been an hour since and Lando started to get worried, but then his phone buzzed.
Finally out. I have big news! GREAT NEWS!
And then, a photo was sent.
You were holding a photo but not just any, it was an ultrasound. Your fingers were showing him a peace sign.
Lando took his time to look at the photo.
Then Oscar came into the room and Lando showed him the photo.
“Oh Mate! Congrats! Twins! How amazing!”
“T-Twins? What?”
“Yeah, she is showing two and it says on the top there, Baby 1 and Baby 2.”
“Two?” Lando felt like he was dreaming.
“Y-Yeah.” Said a rather unsure Oscar as he pointed at the photo. “Two.”
Lando felt as if his world was spinning. 
“I-I need a moment,” Lando said as he stood up and left the room, going out to the bathroom to make a call.
The phone rang twice before you picked up.
“Lando, hi.”
“Love, tell me it’s all just a joke. Two? Really two?”
“That’s what the doctor said! Isn’t this exciting? How long did it take for you to get it?”
“Oscar realised it.” He heard you laugh.
“Of course, he did. And? Are you happy?”
“I think I’m more shocked than anything. But I am happy.”
“The doctor said they don’t know the genders just yet but they believe they might be a girl and a boy. So, both of us might be right.” Lando recalled the time you both had a small argument about the gender of the baby.
He laughed a little. “I love you. All three of you.” Lando said.
“We know and we love you too, now get back to practice.” You said as you soon ended the call.
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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sorchathered · 1 day
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You’re still the one💙
Pairing- Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader
Warnings- language, a little bit smutty, angst with lots of pining and longing.
Summary- Bob’s come back to his small town in Georgia for his best friends wedding, will their plan to bring him back together with his high school sweetheart work out? Or will it end in more heartache?
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When Bob had gotten the wedding invite in the mail he’d been so thrilled, truly. His best friend Sam had done the impossible, made the long distance work through college and grad school and now finally he was marrying his high school sweetheart Millie. He was happy for them, really he was. The only thing that could’ve been better is if he was sharing this with you. This was supposed to be the two of you, conquering your goals and then winding up together, but it hadn’t worked out the way either of you planned and it had been longer than Bob knew since he’d seen your face.
Millie had asked if your old band from high school would reunite for the wedding music and you’d been over the moon, a few of you had continued to play together and occasionally doing a gig or two just for old times sake, knowing that she wanted you involved in her special day made your heart swell.
The closer the date got the more dread seemed to settle in your bones, you’d stalked Bob’s socials and sneakily asked if he was bringing a date, but the look Sam had given you when he said Bob was coming alone let you know he knew exactly what you were hoping. Maybe he didn’t have someone waiting for him in California, maybe he had even asked about you, and for the first time in almost 6 years you let yourself hope.
In his lonely little apartment in Coronado Robert Floyd was doing about as well as you. He’d thought of nothing but you since that invitation showed up in his mail, hell that was a lie; he spent most nights thinking of you if he was truly honest with himself. He was sure Sam and Millie were already plotting some elaborate scheme to push the two of you together over the wedding celebration and he had to laugh at their dedication. He still wasn’t sure how things had gotten so screwed up. Long distance had been hard, deployments, work schedules and midterms seemed to keep the two of you from ever being able to make concrete plans and eventually it felt like you two had just grown apart too much for repair.
He should’ve fought harder, any attempts to move on over the years had been a complete disaster because how was he supposed to find someone new when he was still hung up on you? Natasha always loved to pick on him about it, that one day he’d have to move on or would have to have his “rom com moment” as she called it and sweep you back off your feet but Bob figured you’d long forgotten about him by now. If he only knew that you’d been just as hung up as he was, but neither of you had been brave enough to reach out.
The wedding festivities were in full swing this week, Millie had sent you the final list of songs she wanted for the wedding and you had added a few crowd favorites as well. You missed the days of jamming with your friends, being a music teacher was so rewarding and it had been everything you’d dreamed it would be, but you couldn’t deny that you were looking forward to getting to let loose with old friends.
You were in full nostalgia mode by the time the weekend of the wedding, thinking of all the things you’d had planned for yourself way back when. You’d had your whole wedding planned out, you knew it had been silly but you’d dreamed of a party with all your friends and at the center of it the boy you’d loved since you were a little girl. Deep in the recesses of your parents attic was a hot pink sparkly notebook from senior year with a list of songs you wanted for your own wedding day, gel pen rainbow font with little cursive scribbles of Mrs. Robert Floyd and hearts doodled all over the page. But that had been another lifetime ago, and just the thought of how much time had changed you both brought tears to your eyes.
Bob was so glad to be back home, it had been ages, his mother was already fussing about how he needed to eat more and catching him up on all the town gossip. He wanted to ask about you, but she beat him to the punch; gushing about the musical the middle school was putting on and how hard you were working to make it a success. It looked like all your dreams had come true, you were doing what you loved, but his mama could see the far off look in his eyes as she spoke, she knew all too well what he was feeling.
“You should call her you know, I have her number if you want it.” She’d said softly as she touched his hand but he couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Oh Mama, too much time has passed, I’m sure she’s got someone who could treat her way better than me.” She patted his hand lovingly and shook her head, “Sweet boy, there were never two people better suited for one another than the two of you. I don’t think she ever moved on, I know you didn’t. You know…she lives in the old Macon house on Water Road, not too far if you wanted to take a walk.”
“Mama! “ he said harshly but his features didn’t match his tone at all, he was trying his best not to laugh at her persistence.
She put her hands up and laughed, “I’m just saying, the night air might do you some good. After all life is too short sweetheart.” He thought of his father, taken from them too soon and how his mother had never found anyone else. He’s been her everything, Bob had always thought that would be the same with the two of you.
She heads up for the evening and he’s left alone with his thoughts again. Her house isn’t that far, maybe 5 minutes, and it’s only 8 pm on a Friday she would probably still be awake…
Before he can really mull it over he’s slipping on his shoes and heading out the door, feet carrying him down the sidewalks and past the quaint antebellum style houses illuminated in the orange glow of the street lights until he finds himself at your door. He’s warring with himself about knocking, what the hell was he doing? He’d barely spoken to you in almost 6 years, this was stupid he should’ve never done this. As he turns away to walk down the porch steps he hears the lock click and turning of the door handle, light illuminating the porch as you poke your head out into the night.
“Robby? Is that you?” You say quietly, a small smile on your lips as you look him over with eager eyes. Time had been good to you, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful girl on earth and that certainly hadn’t changed. You weren’t a young girl anymore, your figure was all curves, he couldn’t help but tighten his fists thinking about running his hands over your voluptuous body. Snap out of it Floyd, get your shit together, he thought as you looked at him with confusion evident on your face.
“Well? You gonna come in? Your mama told me you were coming by, I’ve just been sitting by the window listening out for you.” You said as you opened the door a little wider for him to step through. “Of course she did” he muttered, shaking his head with a dark chuckle, leave it to Susan Floyd to take things into her own hands.
You raised an eyebrow at him as he continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway, “I can’t really read your faces anymore Floyd, do you want to come in or are we gonna let all the bugs into my house tonight?” Hands on your hips, sassy remark, yep you were still every bit the spitfire he remembered, that take no shit attitude clearly hadn’t gone anywhere.
“Yeah, yeah y/n I was coming by, sorry I just…I had an idea in my head of what I was gonna say and now here I am and I’ve got nothing.” He said sheepishly as he ran a hand over the back of his neck. You reached for the hand at his side and pulled him through the doorway, closing the door and scooting him in the direction of the couch. Bossy. As always.
“How about I get you a glass of sweet tea and we get all the awkward small talk out of the way, or we could just skip it if you want? I’ve been keeping up with your life through your mom but if you’ve got questions I’m happy to answer them.” You said as you shuffled down the hall to the little kitchen, Bob plopping himself down on your ridiculously comfy velvet couch. “You keep up with me?” He said in shock, he never would’ve thought you’d give him a second thought after he let everything crash and burn, maybe his mama had been right to push him this way.
“Of course I do, it’s not every day you get to be in the top 1% in your field, especially with a job like yours. I’ve always cheered you on, just didn’t think you’d ever show up here, kinda figured you’d forgotten all about me.” You said as you placed down a Mason jar of sweet tea and a tin of shortbread cookies, you’d said it so nonchalantly but he could see in your eyes the hurt was still there.
“I’ve kept up with you too, I- uh I’ve looked at your instagram, and Millie of course updates me when I ask, even if she is still pissed at me about how things ended. You uh- you look like you got everything you wanted in your career too. Mama said the school play is gonna be a big success. I know you’ve gotta be thrilled.”
You nodded, just bringing up your students brought the light back into your eyes. “They are the best, I thought it’d be weird teaching at our old school but truly it is such a joy. These kids love music, it’s so much fun watching them show off their creativity. And as for Millie…Well I’m pretty sure she and Sam have some elaborate plan to “accidentally” trap us in a closet together tomorrow until we work everything out. They’ve been oddly sneaky lately.” You laugh out, and Bob can’t help but join in, they definitely weren’t subtle but you could both agree they were damn good friends.
You both laughed and talked for hours, going through the whole tin of cookies as you caught up on each other’s lives, somewhere in the early morning hours you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder and Bob felt his heart stutter in his chest as he looked down at you. He’d missed this, just being with you.
You had been his favorite person for his entire childhood, how did he let things get so out of hand? It couldn’t be comfortable being propped up like that, so Bob carefully pulled you into his arms and carried you to your room. It was nearly 4 am, he would just crash on your couch like a gentleman should and make an excuse to bail when he woke up. Laying you on the bed he made to step away but you curled your fist into his shirt, murmuring “stay with me” as you pulled him closer, and how could he possibly tell you no? He toed off his shoes and slid in next to you, falling asleep to the sounds of your breathing and warm body pressed to his.
He couldn’t place where he was when he woke up, just that it smelled like coffee and pancakes and somehow he’d slept in. Upon opening his eyes it all came back to him, how you’d asked him to stay and he’d fallen asleep in your arms, he felt hot all over just thinking about it, anxiety filling his chest as he worried about how to navigate the sure to be awkward morning after conversation. Again he wondered how they’d gotten so far from where they’d begun; but one thing hadn’t changed, holding you had simply brought it all back. The feelings he had never wavered, and he was fairly sure he was even more smitten with you now after catching up than he had been before.
You were dancing around in the kitchen as you cooked, spatula acting as a microphone while Fleetwood Mac played from your phone. Clad in a tattered t-shirt and pajama shorts from the night before with your hair messily piled on your head. There was that feeling again, the heat blooming in his chest and the butterflies he’d never felt for anyone but you. It nearly knocked the wind out of him. You couldn’t be more beautiful to him than you were in this moment, he wished he could burn it into his brain forever.
You spun around to the beat but jumped almost a foot in the air when you noticed him, clutching your chest as giggles erupted from you both. “Oh! Oh my god Robby you scared the hell out of me! Did’ya sleep ok? Want breakfast?” You said gesturing behind you to the steaming pile of pancakes and bacon, he wanted breakfast for sure but he knew one thing he wanted more than that.
He crowded you up against the stove, leaning behind you to cut the burner off as he looked down at you with a small smile. “Breakfast sounds good, sweet girl, but we need to talk first.”
“Uh huh” you said and he could tell he had the same dizzying effect on you, that was good, he was hoping this wasn’t one sided.
“I had more fun with you last night than I’ve had in years, and I can’t think of why we ever stopped doing this in the first place. Well a reason that actually counts anyways. I know it’s sudden, hell you probably have a line out the door hoping for a date but-“
“Yes!” You blurted out, nodding your head as you abandoned the spatula and gripped the back of his neck to pull his lips to yours.
You’d meant it to be sweet, just a peck to let him know you wanted the same things he did, but it had been so long, and no one had ever made you feel like he did. It got heated fast, muscular arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in so tight that nothing to get between you, hands in his hair as his kisses became more urgent, opening his mouth to you as you moaned softly into his, and the noise seemed to flip a switch as he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you back down the hall to your bedroom.
It was as sweet and smooth as molasses, he unwrapped you like a present as you tugged at his clothes, you wanted him as bare as you were. He eagerly obliged, tossing his shirt and jeans somewhere across your room as he climbed back into bed and pressed you into the mattress.
“Y/n I-“
“I know baby, I feel it too. Make love to me Robby.”
And so he did, again and again until the two of you felt boneless, breakfast long forgotten and morning seeping into early afternoon.
You’d fallen asleep in his arms around one, and he knew he’d have to wake you up soon to get ready for the wedding and go home to get his suit. He just wanted to stay wrapped up in this a little longer, as much as he needed this to be real again he also knew there was so much red tape. You lived on the opposite coast from him, your career was thriving and you’d never moved away from home. He couldn’t ask you to pack away your life and move every 3-4 years with him. Distance had been what broke you apart last time, he didn’t know if he could bear losing you a second time.
When you finally stirred around 2 you popped up in a panic, you were alone in bed and it was clearly later in the day than you had expected it to be. A sick feeling washed over you, had you interpreted everything wrong? Where was he? Did he regret it and bail?
The sound of a door opening broke you from your thoughts, heavy footfalls down the hallway let you know he hadn’t actually left. He caught your watery eyes looking at him from the doorway and rushed forward to cradle you in his arms, swiping at the tears before they could fall.
“What’s going on it that head of yours? You ok?” He said as he rubbed soothing hands against your back.
“It’s stupid, I woke up alone and I thought..” you stopped and then looked up at him sheepishly. “I thought you’d left” you said with a whisper, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.
“Oh. Aw Shit. I mean I did leave, but for just a minute to grab us some lunch and my suit for tonight, I’m sorry baby I should’ve left a note.” He looked a little embarrassed as well, he was very clearly out of practice when it came to having a partner.
“Ugh, we’re a mess aren’t we?” You chuckled out as you buried your head in his neck, he just nodded as he continued to hold you, he still didn’t know what this was but god he didn’t want to lose it.
“We probably need to figure all of this out y/n, I don’t want to pop the bubble but I can’t shut my brain off. I want this, all of it with you. I’m scared I’m gonna ruin it again.” He was grateful that you couldn’t see his face, he didn’t know if he could keep himself from falling apart if you could.
“We’ll do whatever it takes.” You pulled back to cup his cheeks so he was looking in your eyes. “We were young and stupid back then, but we can do this now. I know we can. If I have to pack up and head to California I will, I’m not saying it won’t be hard but it’s worth it.”
He fucked you slow and steady under the hot spray of the shower after that, worshipping every bit of you and definitely making you both late.
The two of you scrambled to get to the venue, making it right on time, Sam giving Bob a knowing look at his disheveled appearance when he burst into the groom's suite. When you stopped into the bridal suite to check on Millie, she made sure to pick on you for the hickey you’d tried to hide under your ear. Clearly the plan had worked, maybe not how they’d thought but the result was what they were after. You’d have to send his Mama flowers on Monday for her meddling, she’d known what was best even when the two of you didn’t.
The ceremony was beautiful, full of tears and love and Bob couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over to you, he already had plans swirling in his head of wedding rings and a future he’d thought was long lost. After you sang for the reception the band took over and Bob twirled you around the dance floor for much of the evening, he would hold these moments close until he could get you back in his arms again. It had been the perfect weekend.
A few months later you both were carrying moving boxes into his little townhouse, a new job all lined up at the local middle school and the entire summer to spend by the beach with your boyfriend. Everything had fallen into place, and if the little ring box in Bob’s back pocket had anything to do with it, he’d soon be calling you Mrs. Floyd.
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🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @roosterforme @sebsxphia @floydsglasses @sarahsmi13s @bradshawssugarbaby @hangmansgbaby
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Winter's King 8
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: yo, work is driving me nuts.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Lady Jazlene, a queen by marriage, cries herself to sleep. You stay until she snores and snuff the candle as you leave her on her stomach atop the stuffed mattress. You emerge between the guards and wonder if they keep people out or keep her in. 
They don’t react to you. No one really does. A shadow approaches. The thickset man grunts at you as the moonlight shines off his dark mail. Bryce waits patiently as you near him. He turns and walks beside you in silence. 
Much of the camp is asleep. The only fires that remain are those of the soldiers on watch for marauders and bandits. Your soles kick loose pebbles and trample flattened grass further. You yawn as you reach the luggage carts and find the one you rode in. The grey horse is tie to the axle, dozing on its feet with puffing nostrils. 
“The road will not get any less turbulent,” Bryce warns as he grabs his bedroll from across his mount’s rump. “You will need sleep, maid.” 
“Thank you, sir,” you lift the canvas draped over the back of the wagon. 
He grumbles and unfurls his roll across the dirt. You climb up and nestle down beneath the cover, pressed against a chest as you curl up. You hear the soldier lay down with a groan, “...too sweet...” 
You close your eyes and rest your head on a bent arm. The darkness quickly swallows you up into slumber and the day fades into obscurity. You’re not conscious long enough to dread the one ahead. 
As the sun rises, heat gathers in the cart. You wake in a damp sweat, nearly suffocating as you gulp up cool air. You slip down onto your feet and grab onto the cart to keep from stumbling. Bryce grunts as your soles crunch on the ground. 
“Eh, where’re you off to?” He sneers. 
You look down at him. His eyes are still closed as his grey steed sniffs at the dirt close to him. 
“Sir, I... I haven’t... relieved myself since... erm, well...” 
“Go on, but not too far,” he opens his eyes and sits up. “Holler if you meet trouble.” 
The horse huffs into his steely hair and he pets its nose. He grabs onto its reins and hauls himself up. You quickly spin and flit away. You go off into the brush where its thick and squat down, your skirts gathered above your knees. You miss the springs behind the castle where you would bathe with the other maids, you could use a wash now. 
You finish up and peer over the stretch of bodies, horses, and carts. You set off back toward the cart and as you come in sight of Bryce, he unties a dented kettle from his saddles. You feel much better without the pressure beneath your guts.  
“I could fetch water,” you offer. 
He looks over his shoulder. You think you surprised him. 
“Quiet mouse,” he mutters and faces you, gripping the bent handle, “I can manage a potful of water.” 
“Yes, sir, I only was being helpful.” 
“You stay, take Daisy to find some fresh grass,” he points to the horse. 
“Daisy?” You look at the beast, “is that her name?” 
He shrugs and stalks off. You go to the reins and loose them. You glance around and lead her over to an unyellowed swath of grass. She dips her long neck and grazes, tearing the strands noisily as her teeth clack. You pet her ear as she comes rather close to the hem of your skirt. 
Heavy steps tramp up behind you. You don’t bother looking as you assume it’s Bryce. Those who are stirring are barely able to lift themselves out of their rolls. The lazy rise of dawn does not inspire fastidiousness as the clouds haze amber and rose. 
“Fine horse,” the king’s timbre rumbles over you. 
You turn and bow your head, “your highness.” 
He inhales through his nose before he speaks again, “are you a fast rider?” 
“I’ve never... I don’t ride, your highness,” you reply, staring at his black mail, just at the center of his chest. “It isn’t my horse.” 
“I know it, I thought perhaps...” he begins and shifts his weight in his boots, “you might’ve secreted away the mare. That you would be sick for your home.” 
“Your highness? No, I wouldn’t--” You put your hand to your apron, “I am not a thief.” 
He pauses and his thick fingers toy with his belt, fiddling with a leather purse, “that isn’t what I...” he blows out in exasperation, “I do not think you dishonest. In fact, you are the most honest creature I’ve met around here.” 
You keep your eyes down, “I only mean to feed the horse.” 
“Yes, I believe you,” he assures, his tone glum, “forgive my inference. Truly, it wasn’t intended as such.” 
“I understand, your highness,” you say. 
“It was a jape, a poor one, I suppose,” he hooks his thumb in his belt and turns to pace. “I wanted to thank you. I have yet to figure out how to handle Lady Jazlene but you keeping her company, I do appreciate it.” He stops and crosses his arms as he faces you again, “last night, what you heard and saw... we are strangers still, her and I.” 
“I am a maid, your highness, I serve the lady and you now,” you reply, “that’s all I do.” 
His arms bulge before he drops them, “yes, I suppose for you, the matters of nobility are dull.” 
“It is not of my concern, your highness,” you say, “I am to see that all the wine and food and little things are taken care of.”  
You peer up at the sky as the dimness slowly recedes. His figure looms below and he slowly treads closer. You squeeze the reins. 
“You serve the queen, the king, and... a horse,” he reaches to touch its snout, dragging his knuckles along its grey fur. “Make certain we are fed and content.” 
“Whatever is needed, your highness,” you answer and watch his hand stroke the horse. 
“And what do you need?” He asks. 
You quork your head and stick out your lip. It's an odd question. You have what you need. You have a place in the cart, you have some nuts left over from Bryce’s generosity, and you have some hours sleep behind you. 
“Nothing, I think,” you say. 
He scratches behind the horse’s ear, “and what do you want?” 
You purse your lips. You think. Another strange inquiry. What should you want? That’s not something anyone ever worried for. You only troubled after what others wanted. 
“I... I want to see the snow,” you say at last, “I think I dreamt of it but I can’t remember. I don’t really know what it would look like but I remember once Merinda spoke of it. She knew a stable hand who once lived in the north.” 
He’s quiet. Your answer isn’t very interesting. To him, the snows must be so tedious. Nothing more than ordinary. He makes a clicking noise. 
“I want to see the snow too,” he pulls his hand away from the horse and for a moment, he seems to reach for you, recoiling short of touching your grasp on the reins. He withdraws and presses his thumb to his teeth. He hums. “We have far to go before the snow...” he rasps, “should you require anything for the road ahead, you may ask.” 
“That is kind, your highness, but I don’t expect I require much,” you assure, “thank you.” 
“Mmm,” he drones as he faces the sunrise and sets his posture, “onward.” 
He marches away as you stay and watch Daisy munch on the grass. You comb your fingers through her main, loosening the tangles. When another approaches, you glance over. Bryce tidies his own hair with his hands. 
“Water is boiling, maid,” he declares, “I have some spare mint leaf for tea.” 
“Yes, sir, thank you,” you smile down at Daisy and move out of reach of her teeth. “I will stay with the horse until she is done.” 
“Hm, aye, I understand,” his forehead lines, “she is much more pleasant than I.” 
He nods and turns back the way he came. You watch after him as he goes to sit before the hanging kettle, a low flame burning beneath it. He rolls his shoulders and hunches forward as he plants his elbows on his knees. These people of the Hinterlands are not so cold as they pretend. 
⚔️
The long train continues through the lands. Some days slower than others. There are some where progress stops at midday in favour of passing through a village or approaching a nearby farm. The king departs from the larger party, riding with his soldiers to greet the commonfolk. Lady Jazlene refuses to accompany her husband in favour of her silk tent and wine. 
The pauses in your trek makes you curious; you only ever heard of King Waleran showing his face to the citizens during the harvest festivals and self-aggrandizing ceremonies. You never saw the king yourself, only heard Lord Dustan and his wife resentfully complain of how the king never made the journey to Debray. Did he not recall that once a duchess was married to his great-uncle? 
You spend the hours in Jazlene’s company. She wants her wine and mutton. You notice that her appetite for the former has grown since the first day’s travel. She even requested that some casks be sought during one of the king’s visits. He acted as if he did not hear her entreaty. Their few encounters since that first night have been terse and short, neither offering much more than a word or two. 
The queen swirls her cup, watching the motion of the wine within. She giggles and puts it down, picking up the looking glass and admiring herself. She sits on a wooden stool, her skirts dusted with the dirt of the road. Despite the filth, she insists on sporting a new gown each day, no matter how extravagant. 
“What a fool? To think he is wasting his time on commoners,” she trills, “you know, he should be here, worried about his wife and queen. Not married a week and all we’ve done is ride anon. I’ve had no wedding, no feast. How I am neglected for these dirty farmers.” 
You say nothing. You’re not certain she recalls you’re there. She speaks to herself often as if her mother is there. A few times, she has even called for the duchess. Often when she’s nearly finished the bottle. 
She pouts and sniffs. She drains the cup completely and puts it down heavily on the crate next to her. She grips the mirror with both hands and looks at her reflection. She contorts her face, sucking in her cheeks, pushing out her lips, turning her head this way and that. 
“Aren’t I beautiful?” She nearly whispers. You don’t flinch. You stare at your hem. She sighs and stomps her foot, “I’m asking you!” 
You peek up at her, surprised.  
“Yes, your highness, you are very beautiful.” 
She frowns, “you lie to me.” 
“I wouldn’t lie, your highness.” 
“Don’t argue with me,” she snarls and slams the mirror down, cracking the glass on the crate. She stands and blusters around, her skirts catching between her legs, “if I am beautiful, what makes me so, hm? Tell me!” 
You stare at her. She is beautiful. You always thought so.  
“Your hair, your curls, your highness, they are beautiful.” 
She rolls her eyes, “just my hair?” 
She wobbles slightly as she struts towards you. 
“Your eyes. They are pretty too. And you have a nicely set nose. And your lips are finely curved, your highness,” you explain as she looms closer and closer. 
“Hmph,” she stops, slouching drunkenly as she leans in to consider you, “of course you would say so. Look at you. So plain. An ugly handmaid.” 
You stare back at her, a strike in your chest, then drop your gaze. It is the wine. She huffs, her alcohol-laden breath tinging your nose. 
“The king,” she babbles as she turns on her heels, swaying dangerously, “we’ve only lain together our first night. It was... quick. He didn’t want me to sleep with him,” she raises a hand and flutters her fingers, “he shooed me away like some whore.” She spins and falls onto the stool, “if I am so beautiful, why does he not want me?” 
You watch her. She isn’t looking for your answer. She’s talking to talk. Lady Rezlyn isn’t there so she has only herself and stagnant air trapped in the tent. 
“It is my duty to have his babies. To give him heirs. I cannot do that if he will not touch me. But perhaps when are in one place, he might try again,” she smiles and lifts the broken mirror. She tilts it and lets her hand drift down to your bodice. She pushes her chest up, “when he lets me take this off, he will see. He will want me.” 
She convinces herself as she preens at her reflection, “perhaps it won’t hurt.” She looks around and sees the bottle of wine. She grabs it by the neck. She grips it and wiggles it at you in the air. “He’s even thicker than this,” she puts the mirror down and balances the bottle on her palm as she circles her fingers around the bottom of the bottles neck, just before it rounds out, “and longer.” 
You stare at the silk wall, mortified by her words. She giggles and the movement of her hand draws your eyes up. You watch from under your lashes as she brings her hands up and down the bottle neck. 
“Mother says, just like this,” she pumps it, “that he should like it very much.” She stops and focuses on the bottle, “mmm, he is a man underneath it all.” She tosses the bottle away, “and I am a beautiful woman. He will want me.” 
You lower your eyes again and twine your fingers together. You can’t help but feel bad for her. You only wish you had some words of wisdom or comfort to offer her. Or that she would hear them. You can’t help but touch the fading bruise along your stomach as you languish in the tepid silence. It’s better to let her forget you. 
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ramshacklerumble · 2 days
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can I see an ashi and gigi interaction <//3 look she even has an emote 🌺
KIDDING!!!!!! BUT HI I WANT MORE GIGI CONTENT 🫶 really curious about 🦐🦑🍄 octotrio? this is my attempt at more unagi crumbs BUT!!! I AM GEN CURIOUS ABOUT OCTO INTERACTIONS 🫣 don’t think I’ve seen gigi interact w the other two ssssso 👁️👁️
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in a nutshell?
if these three carked it right in front of them, gia would at long last repent and hole up in a nunnery like the good lord intended.
jk. (kinda)
on paper, gia is the octotrio’s personal henchboy as payment for a “favor” floyd does them a little prior/early into the events of book 5. (currently working on a one-shot that goes into this) originally gia’s tenure under the mostro lounge was only meant to be for a few weeks, but it’s made readily apparent once the octotrio finds use in something they are not about to let it slip through their fingers.
so begins the trio's pattern of finding even the smallest infractions on gia’s part as cause to extend their servitude under them. this is, understandably, why there's little love lost between them. i’d say gia prays for the trio’s downfall, but gia isn’t religious and far too proactive to wait around for that to happen.
they’ve made it their personal mission not to leave nrc until octavinelle is burning at their feet.
in reality, gia’s relationship with the octotrio is quite complicated.
they’ve been an absolute pain in the neck in every single encounter, but it doesn’t take gia long to realize the octotrio is their speedrun towards getting some REAL power in their hands. proud and hard-working they may be, gia is ultimately a pragmatist at heart.
though a bit of a showman, azul IS an undeniably powerful mage with many a tentacle in many a pie. the twins are nothing to sneeze at either.
as much as gia hates their guts, these three are their chance to make it not only to graduation but to actually make something of themself when staying at night raven is no longer an option.
and that’s not even getting into the growing familiarity between gia and the trio steadily murking the waters…
🦑 AZUL ASHENGROTTO: (tagging @thehollowwriter since you also sent an ask for azul)
perhaps the most subtle dynamic of the three (making it the hardest to explain) gia's view of azul can be largely inferred by their joke-title for him: boss.
if azul wants something done, then gia gets it done. gia proves themself an incredibly adept asset to azul and it's why azul pulls whatever strings he can to keep them under his thumb.
that said, while gia puts up with much of azul's overworking and respects they are indebted to the trio by not putting up much of a fuss-- azul is aware he occasionally has to sweeten the pot if he wants to keep it that way.
he'd be a fool to forget this was the same person who got all his original contracts turned to dust. and besides: what good, gracious employer doesn't reward his employees for their hard work?
so azul doesn't mind giving gia access to a few of his private merchandise channels, maybe even some of his more advanced grimoires and alchemy notes, etc.
this dynamic remains largely unchanged for a while, though if one were to squint they might catch a degree of casualness peppering their interactions over time. they indulge in subtle sniping-- even minor trolling-- namely from gia who finds azul an easy target.
they are not fully aware of how things have changed until @cyanide-latte's chrysanthos shroud makes quite a bitter impression on them both. in a low moment surprising even azul, he admits to gia that shroud makes him feel inadequate as a housewarden-- made worse by the fact azul knows it isn't shroud's intention. shroud, in his own way, truly embodies the spirit of benevolence an octavinelle housewarden should be and it's something azul wonders he'll ever be able to do himself. (you can read more on this in cy's post: here!)
gia, in an attempt to give azul the peace of mind that they won't try to use this moment of weakness against him (and bolstered by the knowledge this could come in as blackmail should he think to use what they're about to tell him), shares a bit of their own worries shroud managed to jar loose.
working for the trio is hard, however, it's also been the path that's given gia the most opportunities. but, with the trio being a year ahead of them, gia is well aware their time with them is limited. they can’t help but mull over what is to become of them when the trio leave for their senior internships. gia will likely never see them again and likely be nothing more than a footnote from the trio’s school lives. a strange, magicless weirdo from another dimension, wasn’t that a fun little story?
gia’s probably going to have a lot of free time as a junior and who knows how they plan to go about senior year, frankly, they’re a bit at a loss with themself…
anyway. if it weren't for azul """kindly""" giving them the chance to gain what they DO have by working for him (or whatever), they'd probably be even more lost than they are now. he's a pain and a half, but he's probably not the worst housewarden in octavinelle history.
at this, azul reminds gia he's made his plans to branch out the mostro lounge to the public quite clear. gia wouldn’t be bound to them anymore, but it'd be a shame to let their experience at the school's location go to waste, wouldn't it?
🍄 - JADE LEECH
gia's relationship with jade is probably the strangest because despite jade being the one that wigs gia out the most, he is also the one gia openly gets along with the best.
fun fact: gia opened up their own club. the biking club. they are the only person in said club because, for some reason or another, they reject anyone who tries to get in. it might have to do with the fact the reason the club exists is because they needed an excuse to have a bike on school grounds they are allowed to ride anywhere unquestioned-- such as for personal errands or scavenging for potion ingredients. this includes up in the mountains.
y'know who else is often in the mountains..?
because of this little coinkidink, jade found a very weak and fevered gia struggling to get off the ground because they'd stupidly decided to go out foraging while sick. and of course, what good, gracious vice-housewarden of octavinelle wouldn't lend a hand to a poor, unfortunate underclassman in need despite their fervent protests? they're obviously, deliriously ill and are unaware of what's best for them…
indebted to jade on top of the octotrio as a whole, gia lost what little personal time they had as president of their own one-man club. now the biking club is (semi-officially) affiliated with his mountain lovers' club-- meaning gia accompanies him whenever he goes and bikes him around trails whenever he feels like it.
in theory, being alone up a mountain with jade leech should be terrifying, but gia sincerely enjoys these outings. jade is not only incredibly well-versed in mountain flora but a skilled potionologist in his own right.
honestly, it’s not bad.
BONUS:
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BONUS BONUS:
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they're friends :)
@inmateofthemind @simons-twsted-children @tixdixl @jovieinramshackle @blithesharem @theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk (lemme know if anyone wants to be included in tags)
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readychilledwine · 2 days
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Lost Bonds pt 4
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Summary - The last thing Tamlin planned to have happen was a bond snapping between him and Y/N Archeron. Now the big question becomes, is it too late to fix what has been broken?
Warnings - stereotypical happy ever after, grudges, cutting ties with family, rhysand being a decent brother in law, divorce, children, babies, pregnancy, reader's powers are yin to Nesta's yang, loosely edited (squint away any mistakes💕)
A/n - I know some people might be upset with the direction this ended in, but it felt... right? Forgive me.
✨️Tamlin Masterlist✨️
Lost Bonds: Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
The Fire in Spring *can be read as a bonus Calanmai smut scene*
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Rhysand was eerily calm as Azriel approached his office with Feyre. For the first time since her arrival here, Feyre would be in a seat he typically only forced the Inner Circle to instead of at his side.
Rhys sat and waited, hands laced together as they entered. “You are probably wondering why I asked you two to come in. Sit.” He motioned to the chairs across from him, not missing the look of confusion on Feyre's face. He waited for them to settle before saying the one thing he knew would begin the fight he prepared himself for, “I sent y/n to Spring yesterday. For Calanmai.”
Azriel's hands instantly twitched, and the fight began.
Three weeks had past with you and Tamlin and Tamlin and you. They were spent deep in the throes of passion. In need and want and want and need and every lingering emotion in between.
He had worshiped you. Truly and fully. He explored every inch of skin, tasting and kissing it every time like it was his last meal, like these were his last moments and he would rather spend them nowhere else than between the thighs he had become obsessed with.
It had taken 3 weeks for the bond to cool down enough for him to attempt to go back to his duties. He still ached for you and the completion that came with being yours, and you ached as well. You were like air to each other. Something so simple, yet so vital to life.
He sighed as he entered his office and sat in front of Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. “You selfish-”
His hand went up. “If you're going to start throwing names around, shadowsinger, I have several for you. Be silent and allow me to discuss this with your lord and lady.”
Rhys was the first to speak after the blatant dismissal. “Where is she?”
“She should be resting. She's had a long morning already. She spent the morning with other Ladies of the Court discussing the upcoming Summer celebrations. I believe she is still socializing, though. I do not keep track of her constantly. She is a grown adult.”
Feyre scoffed and Tamlin raised his brow at her before she instantly looked down. “Is she happy?”
“Happier than I've been in a long time,” you entered the room, long hair falling in waves, an apricot colored dress swaying as you did. The colors of Spring made you even more radiant, your skin glowing, eyes dancing with light that had been missing for several years. “I assume you brought papers for me.”
You moved to Tamlin, standing behind him and holding a hand out for his. Feyre was shaking, refusing to look at you. “If you sign this, if you choose to stay, I never want to see you again.” The words should have cut like a knife, but all you could do was sigh.
“Would you like me to stay in Night then?”
Azriel glared towards Tamlin. “Its where you belong. Where your husband is. Where your family is.”
“Where your mate is,” you began to trail on for him. “Where you can have your cake and eat it too. Where your family has spent the past 4 years letting you make a fool out of me. Fond memories, yes.”
“Our marriage wasn't always unhappy, y/n.”
“No. But it became unhappy the second you had an affair. Sign the papers, Azriel.”
Rhysand stayed oddly silent, as did Tamlin, the two high lords were in a silent conversation regarding the scent only they seemed to be able to detect. You were not leaving Spring, not when you, albeit unknowingly, were carrying its salvation inside of you.
Tamlin pointed to the line that would grant you your freedom. Tapping it twice in a silent message to you to sign and stay at his side as he watched Azriel. He had no doubt the male planned on grabbing you, upset that he was losing his own claim to a made sister, upset that the Cauldron had paired him with another.
Tamlin knew his look. The look of a male who wanted everything with no compromise. He remembered being there. Being that male. He knew the pain that came with it, the anger. He watched you sign, signature so flawless and soft, curling the page that gave you freedom and you stepped back. Hiding that joy that was flooding him as you did.
“I won't stop fighting for you.”
You shook your head as you laid the ring on the desk and slid it to him. “You will. You will realize this was best for both of us in time. You will find happiness, peace, and what you are looking for.”
“I won't sign.”
Rhysand pinched his nose and then picked at his jacket, a nervous habit now instead of obsession. “Azriel, sign the papers.”
“I won't-”
“You will because I have tolerated every moment of this bull shit knowing it is against every law we have honored for thousands of years.” Tamlin was oddly calm, hand still in yours. “I tolerated it for her happiness.”
“She was happy with me.”
“Until 4 years ago, yes.”
You turned to Rhysand, eyes pleading. “Please.” Her brother in law nodded, taking her side and owning his error another time.
“Sign the papers, Azriel.” Feyre and Azriel seemed to freeze. It was a set command, one the shadowsinger would not be able to push. “Sign the papers.”
“I will never forgive you for this.”
Rhys shrugged. “I'll add it to the many times I was doing what was best for everyone else but made the bad guy. Sign the papers.”
Azriel stared at Tamlin as he signed the papers before taking the ring and standing. He left without saying goodbye, without looking back at you one last time. Without even so much as a sign of the love you two once shared.
“You will never see Nyx again.” Tamlin tugged the bond, sending you his love and support regardless of what you picked but silently begging you to stay.
Your throat tightened as you looked to Feyre, “Are you truly that selfish? Without Tamlin, you would not even have Nyx. You wouldn't have a mate.” She glared at you, chin head high as you continued, “you were never met to be Tamlin's, Feyre. Imagine a world where you would have just let me go, where I came here as the person who was supposed to.” She suddenly looked away, eyes squeezing shut as she did. “If that is the road you would like us to go down, consider it done. You are no longer my sister, no longer my other half, no longer part of me. If my happiness means this little to you, then we need to part ways.”
Feyre just nodded, standing and holding her hand out to Rhysand. Your brother in law shook his head, nodding for her to go. He sunk further into the chair he was in before looking to you and Tamlin. “Congratulations,” in was sincere, soft. Rhys grabbed your hand, kissing the palm. “You will always have a home in Velaris.”
10 years later
Tamlin sighed quietly next to you, bouncing your third child and daughter, Willow, on his lap as the other two sat. Oakland, your oldest son, was reading with his back leaned against your legs. Fleur, your middle daughter, was sitting by the glittering fish pond every court was circling.
High Lord's meetings were now quarterly. A way of holding each other all in check and accountable. Each one was more of a bitchfest than productive, but it had allowed relations between several courts to improve.
This one had been called due to Helion stepping down. With Beron gone, Autumn stable, and his mate and son finally at his side, the High Lord decided there was no better way to celebrate than relinquishing his powers to Lucien and enjoying the lost time he should have had with Andromeda.
Lucien looked to Tamlin, a little lost on the question Rhysand was asking before clearing his throat to answer, “I will not be enforcing rank and class if that's what you are asking. Fae are fae. Lower or higher does not matter to me. Laws will be enforced, tax will be enforced, and opportunities will be fair.” Rhys seemed content in that answer, looking at Feyre and Nyx before nodding.
You two knew you were next and Tamlin sighed as he handed Willow to you, much to her protest. “Spring is fully rebuilt and has implemented a version of Tarquin’s laws that work best for us,” the mentioned high lord smiled and raised his bubbling wine. “Our army is young, growing, but eager.”
He looked to you, “We would appreciate the spies being removed from our court, though. We are willing to answer any questions someone may have. We feel the use of spies in unnecessary. We have opened our boarders and home to anyone."
“The mortals,” Eris began slowly. “They are?”
“Part of our court as of two months ago,” you answered for Tamlin. “We are the only court they agreed to form a pact with. Jurian and Vassa will remain ruling over them as a better connection point.”
Eris hummed. Satisfied with the answer.
“Will they be asking to travel?” Kal watched his daughter, stopping her before her snow pale hand touched the pond with a soft no. “There are concerns over them coming to Winter. They were not made for such temperatures.”
Tamlin nodded, “We had hoped to discuss that with each court one on one. They are… beautiful, curious creatures. They want to travel the courts and experience different foods and lifestyles. Provisions will need to be made for that to happen, though.”
You couldn't help but smile, hearing what you used to be called beautiful by the most stunning male you had ever seen. His hand moved to rest on your thigh, squeezing softly as the next question came.
“The growth in Spring, the herbs, the medicinal plants, the food, flowers,” Thesan took a short pause as he and his mate communicated silently. “How did that happen?”
Tamlin squeezed your thigh again. “Nesta was blessed with the powers of death. Y/n was blessed with the powers of fertility and live. Her presence alone has brought light and growth back to Spring.”
“And children,” Kal murmured. You chuckled softly. You knew your every growing family was a source if jealousy from several other High Lords and Ladies.
“Yes, and children. The increase of faelings in Spring has been our biggest blessing. We are averaging 20-25 babes a year instead of the standard 3.”
You watched Rhys smile behind his hand as Feyre still refused to look your way. “And how many more do you two plan on having?” The question came from Cassian. He had taken to his nieces and nephew like they were second nature to him. He was their favorite uncle, and Nesta was fighting Elain hard for favorite Auntie.
Tamlin looked at you. “Perhaps we will be done after this new one arrives.” You shook your head quickly, lip pouting out. “I promised her 12.” Eris and Lucien both spit out their wine. Having grown up with many siblings, the two of them both looked shocked as Helion and Lady Autumn both smiled wide. “We will decide here in a month or two.”
Your hand absentmindedly moved to your very swollen stomach. This one was a boy. You felt it in your soul, and new Tamlin was secretly excited over the idea of another beautiful son.
The meeting came to a close as soon as Summer finished their updates. Tamlin helped you stand, moving his hand to your lower back as he walked you and your three toddlers out of the room. You could feel both of their eyes on you. A lingering cold Hazel gaze, a heartbroken blue one.
He tugged the bond softly before winnowing you home and immediately taking you to bed as the children's nannies all came to collect them for nap time.
“She looked regretful,” Tamlin unlocked your dress, kissing your shoulder softly. “She will approach soon.”
“It doesn't matter if she does.” The acceptance came so easily now. “We have each other, our family. We have this,” you tugged the bond. “Nothing will come between our happy ever after.” You held your pinky to his, and he wrapped his much larger one around it. “To us and our happy ever after then.”
“To us, petal.”
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