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#where you get the first-time makeup and look in the mirror
a-b-riddle · 1 day
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Part Six
Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.
None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.
You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.
The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.
By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.
A colleague. You had a colleague!!!
The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.
It was one of them.
You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.
Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.
A vision.
You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.
"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"
"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"
"Listen," "Bon-"
"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."
"If you just let me make it-"
"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."
"Just give me a chance."
"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”
So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."
"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.
"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”
“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.
There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.
“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”
You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.
Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.
"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.
But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.
No.
If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.
No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.
"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."
"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.
He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.
"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.
His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.
There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.
He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.
He doesn't throw you on the bed.
Not this time.
He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.
But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.
"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.
He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.
"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.
"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.
In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."
You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.
He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.
Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.
With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.
It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.
The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"
"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.
His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.
His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.
"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.
"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.
It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.
You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.
The end.
He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."
You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.
"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.
He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.
"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.
He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.
His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.
You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.
You needed it to stop.
You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.
I could die like this, Lass.
Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.
He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.
You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.
You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.
You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.
His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.
Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.
"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.
"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."
You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.
"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.
You weren't too far behind.
He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.
But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.
"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."
He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.
in out in out in out.
Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.
"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.
His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.
His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.
"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."
He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.
"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."
You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.
Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.
"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.
The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.
Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.
"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."
"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."
"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."
"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"
"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."
"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."
"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.
"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."
"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"
No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.
But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.
You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.
So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.
"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.
"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.
You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.
You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.
Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.
"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"
You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.
Three minutes.
Three minutes.
"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."
You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.
You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.
You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.
"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.
"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."
"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.
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Beach Daddy III. I can do it with a broken heart
Rich daddy!Joel x F!reader
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Series Masterlist • Masterlist
Wordcount: 12,532
Summary: After a day of emotional turmoil, you find solace in a chance encounter with Joel, who invites you to his secret deck.
Warnings: 18+, Joel and reader get closer, Todd does fuckboy things, reader really goes through it in this one, it's like a lil baby soap opera up in here for everyone.
Notes: Welcome, welcome, dear friends. Sorry this is so long. I never know where to end the chapters 😂 so I just add more. Your comments, asks, and reblogs are always so welcome! I appreciate everyone who's in this with me.
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You walk out of Amorebelle with light pink clothing bags weighing down each arm, wearing a new outfit. You can't remember a time when you've gotten this many new clothes at once. You also find it hard to wrap your head around the fact that these clothes cost more than you make in an entire year.
The saleswomen Jane and McKenzie won't let you look at the price tags, but as they're ringing up your picks, you catch a glimpse of the total on the computer screen. You can't help but wonder how you'll ever be able to pay Joel back for this shopping trip. 
You also can't help but wonder how often he does this for women.
Jane, who's worked at the shop the longest, had recognized him when you walked in the door. You don't have time to contemplate this because you notice a maid you recognize from the yacht. She makes her way to you and starts relieving you of your bags. You make sure to keep the bag with your dress and shoes for the evening.
"Miss, I was told to take these to your room on the ship while you are at your appointment," the maid tells you.
"What appointment?" you ask her, confused.
"You have an appointment at the salon three stores up.”
"Did Joel set this up for me?" you ask, feeling even more surprised.
"Yes, ma'am," the maid says with a smile.
You're glad that the boutique you've been shopping in has a shower where you're able to rinse off before this appointment. They must be used to sandy beachgoers coming in right before a night out.
You make your way up the street and stop at the salon with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. From the outside, you can see the row of chairs, each in front of its own mirror.
You walk in, and the man at the front desk assures you that you do, in fact, have an appointment, full hair, and makeup, which is all prepaid.
The receptionist walks you back to your stylist, an attractive man whose hair color matches yours. "What do you have in mind today, sweetheart," your stylist asks you.
"I'm honestly not sure. Can I leave it up to you?" you ask.
"That's my favorite request," he says as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Your natural coloring is gorgeous, obviously, I am not going to touch that. So, I'm thinking a quick trim and a blowout."
He has your hair and makeup done within an hour, and you barely recognize yourself in the mirror. You're amazed that your hair is perfectly smooth, with not a single strand of frizz to be found. You gently run your fingers through your hair and can't believe how soft it is.
"What do you think?" the stylist asks you. He hands you a small mirror and turns you in the chair so you can get a better view of the back of your hair.
"Is this really my hair?" you ask, holding up the smaller mirror.
"Of course, sweetheart. You look amazing," he says with a smile.
"I didn't know I could love my hair this much.” You admit.
"So, go enjoy it!" he says with a huge smile.
"I will. I love it. Thank you so much," you say enthusiastically.
You walk out of the salon's front door in your midnight blue silk dress with shining hair, and you feel amazing. For the first time since the breakup, you feel like you can do a whole lot better than Todd.
"All I can say is wow," says Joel. He's been waiting for you outside of the salon.
"I hardly recognize myself," you say with a laugh.
"I wasn't commenting on the dress or your hair. I was impressed by your confidence. It looks good on you darlin," Joel says, looking you up and down unabashedly.
You feel your cheeks get hot. You don't understand how Joel always says exactly what you need to hear.
"But, I do have to admit I was right about that dress; it does look amazing on you," Joel says with a wink.
"I don't know how to thank you–" but Joel cuts you off before you can finish thanking him.
"Please, you don't need to finish what you were about to say. You deserved it. Simple as that."
"Okay," you say with a smile. "Well, then I just want you to know that today has been the best day I have had in a long time." You like that Joel isn't the kind of man who gives gifts because he likes the praise that follows.
"The restaurant is just a few blocks over. I can call for a ride," he says, pulling out his phone.
"Yeah, we could get a ride over," you say and grab his phone. "But, it's such a beautiful night; why don't we walk?" It is a beautiful night, but if you're being honest with yourself, you want to walk to soak up as much time alone with Joel as you can.
Joel smiles and offers you his arm. You notice his new suit jacket goes perfectly with your new dress. You bite your lip to keep yourself from asking if he picked it on purpose, but you secretly hope he had.
"This town is beautiful; I'm surprised that it isn't busier," you say, looking up at the bistro lights strung across the streets in a zig-zag pattern. The light is just barely fading, and the cool breeze catches the slit in your dress, making the end lightly flutter around your ankles as you walk.
"It is a well-kept secret," Joel says.
"For the rich and famous?" you ask.
"Well, kinda, but the locals who live here are what make this place so amazing. The restaurant we’re headed to has some of the best food I've ever eaten. But the chef is just a local man who perfected his art form. Never went to culinary school; just cooked because he loved it."
"How do you know all that about him?" you ask.
"My family has vacationed here for as long as I can remember. When I got tired of listening to my parents argue, I would go exploring the island. I’ve gotten to know a lot of the locals over the years," he explains.
You walk up to a building with a large illuminated sign reading The Coastal Hibiscus. The restaurant has a large deck area with a perfect view of the ocean. As you make your way up the front steps, you drop your hand from Joel's arm, not wanting Sarah to get the wrong idea.
You arrive at the restaurant last, finding the entire party already seated. As you enter, the conversation slows, and Todd's gaze locks onto you, a sense of satisfaction washing over you from the look on his face.
Only two seats remain, so you sit between Alison and Hudson. Joel takes a seat directly across from you, next to his daughter.
"I love that dress on you, by the way." Alison says with a little smile.
"Thanks," you reply as the waiter distributes menus.
"Where did you take off to? I haven't seen you since you went with Sarah's dad to find the dolphins," Alison asks.
"Oh, we never found them, so we just drove around for a long time looking for them," you lie, staring intently at the menu. You don't want to share the details of the intimate day you spent with Joel.
"That's too bad," Alison says, joining the group's conversation about where everyone plans to 'winter' that year.
You continue to look at your menu, overwhelmed by the number of choices. Finally, you look up to see Joel staring at you. You silently mouth 'What should I get?' across the table.
He smiles at you and mouths back 'The lobster.'
When the food arrives, you're grateful for his suggestion. His choice is amazing; the lobster is cooked so well that it feels like it melts in your mouth.
You sit peacefully sipping a glass of wine and listening to the group's conversation, stealing glances at Joel. The waiter brings around dessert menus, and you order a slice of cheesecake, one of your favorites.
A few minutes later, the waiter sets a piece of cheesecake in front of you, and placed delicately in the whipped cream is a stunning cushion cut diamond engagement ring. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart stops. As you try to make sense of what's happening, you hear Todd whisper angrily to the waiter, "No, not her!"
No one seems to notice the mix-up, and a few seconds later, the engagement ring cheesecake is placed in front of Sarah instead. Her small squeak alerts the rest of the table to what's going on.
"Sarah, will you make me the luckiest man in the world? Will you marry me," Todd says, down on one knee next to Sarah.
"Of course, I will." Sarah immediately answers. She jumps up and hugs Todd, all the while letting out ear-piercing squeals.
You look across the table and see Joel's eyes locked on you. Did he see them place the ring in front of you and your reaction to it? 
The restaurant feels like it's closing in around you. You have to get out. You quietly slide your chair away from the table, leaving your ringless cheesecake untouched, and walk out into the open air. You start walking toward the ocean; the water has turned from a vibrant blue to an ominous black. The glassy surface reflects the light of the moon, which sits alone in the sea of darkness. 
You continue walking, your feet aching in the heels, but to your relief, you recognize the yacht docked in a nearby marina. The crew must have sailed over to this marina to drop off the rest of the group while Joel and you were in the shops. So you make your way towards it. However, even before you reach the docks, the tears have already started falling down your face. You wipe them away quickly, not wanting to stain your new dress. The sound of footsteps behind you has you hurrying to the yacht. Whoever is following you, you do not want to speak to them–not now.
Not even if it's Joel.
 "Todd, I'm so glad we finally get to spend some time together. It seems like I barely get to see you anymore. I'm so sorry I've been so busy," you said, smiling at your fantastic boyfriend. You really missed him, but with graduation so close, you had to put all of your efforts into studying.
"I'm glad you finally found some time for me," Todd said in a flat tone. You guessed you deserved that, but the comment still stung.
"Where do you want to go eat? I heard there’s a great new sushi place just a few blocks over," you said, trying to switch the mood to a more positive one.
"Yeah, that works," Todd muttered as he pulled out his phone to send a text.
You started walking over, but you couldn't help but feel like something was off, and you relaxed as Todd's fingers locked with yours.
"So, how’s work going?" you asked. Todd had graduated with his Bachelor's degree the year before and started working for his dad's financial firm after that.
"It's been great. You would not believe some of the people I help with their investments. Every single one of them was a millionaire before they were thirty. That is going to be me; just you wait."
"I know you will be, Todd," you said as the hostess showed you to your table. "If anyone can make it happen, you will."
"It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife. Then, we'd become millionaires together," Todd said and smiled at you. He had always been so proud of the fact that you were working towards being a lawyer. You were so relieved that he recognized your time studying was for your future together.
The waiter walked over to your table and asked if you were ready to order. Todd ordered multiple plates of sushi, and then the waiter turned to you.
"I'll have an order of the California rolls and a water," you handed the menu back to the waiter and looked up to see Todd with a strange expression on his face.
"California rolls?" Todd asked as the waiter walked away.
"It's the best deal on the menu. I'm saving for my books. I don't know if I’ll be able to qualify for another loan," you said, slightly defensive. You knew Todd hated how cheap you were, but you had to be if you were going to be able to afford to put yourself through school. You knew he didn't understand; his dad paid for his education.
Todd pulled out his phone again and sent another text. You tried not to let it bother you; it was probably something for work.
You spent the rest of dinner talking about the different investments Todd was making on others' behalf and how one of his clients had just purchased their first private island.
"I'm going to run to the restroom before we head out," Todd said and got up, not realizing he had left his phone sitting face up on the table.
As soon as he walked away, his screen lit up with a text message. All you could see from where you sat was the contact name, 'Her.' Your heart sank.
The screen went black, and you took a deep breath. Todd walked back from the restroom, smiling at you.
"You ready to go?" he asked you as he made it to your table.
"Absolutely."
"Why don't we catch a movie?" Todd asked, grabbing your hand again as you walked out of the restaurant.
"Sure. What do you want to go see?”
You slam the door of your room and rest your back against it, catching your breath. You had to get away from whoever was following you out of the restaurant. You can't face anyone after witnessing Todd's engagement to someone else. You take a few minutes to catch your breath, and when a soft knock on the door vibrates your back, you ignore it. The person doesn't knock again.
Your dress clings to your sweaty body, and you want nothing more than to take it off. You slip off the midnight blue silk gown and drape it over the chair in front of the vanity. Noticing the pink garment bags already hung neatly in your closet, you secretly wish that you fit in this world, this world of money. But you know deep down that you don't.
You walk past all of the new clothes and throw back on your usual attire of shorts and a T-shirt; you can't get comfortable in the fancy clothes. You make your way over to your bed and throw yourself on the comforter. Burying your face in the pillow and let the tears come. You cry until your eyes burn. You sit up in bed and wonder where everything went wrong with Todd and you. You had truly been in love with him. You had planned a future together, and even though he never spoke directly of marrying you, you always assumed it would happen one day. So when the waiter placed his engagement ring in front of you perched on a pillow of whipped cream, it hurt even more.
Your roommate had been suspicious of Todd cheating on you for months before you read that text. You went on pretending your relationship was stable, even though deep down, you suspected him, too, especially after the incident at the sushi restaurant.
You didn't confront him about the text until weeks later. He denied everything at first, saying it was his father's receptionist. She was a bitter older woman who was not the kind of woman you wanted to cross. He put the receptionist in his phone as 'her' as a joke.
You knew he was lying, but you were okay to keep on pretending. That was until you caught him texting 'her' again, right in front of you. Then, you exploded, and you got into your worst fight. He finally came clean that it was a woman he met at your birthday party. 
He swore he wasn't cheating and that she was just a friend. You promised that you would work it out even if he was cheating on you, but he wasn't interested in that. He was no longer interested in you. He broke up with you the very next day.
With the memories replaying in your mind, you jump out of bed and run to the balcony. You breathe in quick gasps of the cold sea air. You just realized that you had invited Sarah to your birthday party. Todd had met her there, and they had been in contact ever since. Sarah told you that she'd been dating Todd for four months, but your birthday party was eight months ago. So Todd had been pursuing Sarah for eight months while he was still pretending to be faithful to you.
'It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife; then we'd become millionaires together.' Todd's words ring through your memories. He hadn't been talking about you becoming a lawyer and the two of you becoming wealthy together. He had been talking about marrying Sarah, an heiress. This had been his plan all along. 
This night of realization has your head hammering, and you need to calm down. So you walk back into your room, slip on your shoes, and walk out your door. You’re going to go out to the bar on the deck and make yourself a drink. The lights on the deck are already out, but you quickly realize you’re not there alone.
"Oh, Todd!" Sarah moans.
"You are so damn sexy!"
Two shadowy figures are pressed together in the pool, waves rippling around them, and you quickly realize you have just interrupted Sarah and Todd's after-engagement celebration. You immediately freeze on the spot.
Their moans grow louder, and you try to retreat before either of them sees you. Unfortunately, you don't notice the lounge chair behind you in the dark and topple over it in your rush to get away. You land flat on your back, and all the air is knocked out of your lungs.
"What the hell? Who's there?" Todd's voice yells behind you.
You pray it’s too dark for them to see or recognize you. Then, you start crawling back towards the door, and as soon as you think you are out of sight, you stand up quickly and run. Once you get through the door, you keep running down the hall, the tears stinging your eyes. You are humiliated, heartbroken, and defeated.
You get to a set of stairs and immediately start climbing as many floors as you can. You have to get as far away from the pool as possible. It’s  bad enough knowing Todd is sleeping with Sarah, possibly for eight months, but to see it first hand is too much.
You end up in front of an elevator, and just as you stop to catch your breath, the doors slide open.
"Hey darlin? Are you okay?"
It's Joel. All you want to do is to run into his arms and feel his warmth surround you. But instead, you simply nod and turn to walk away. How could you possibly explain what you just witnessed? Sarah is still his daughter.
"I don't believe you. Somethin’ is wrong. I came to check on you earlier.”
Joel hands you a glass of red wine, and you follow him out onto his private deck. The elevator has led up to his room, and Joel, noticing your state, invites you up.
You lean over the railing and swirl the wine in the glass.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Joel asks with a note of concern in his voice.
"Nothing happened; I was just tired," you reply.
"You were so tired that you ran all the way back to the yacht?" Joel asks, clearly not believing you.
You don't say anything and take a small sip of your wine.
"And in the hallway just now? You seemed pretty upset," Joel says.
"I promise, I'm fine, but thank you," you say, trying to muster up a small smile.
Joel does not look convinced, but he lets the topic go. You both stand looking over the ocean for a long time in complete silence. The yacht has left the small island, and so the waves are bubbling lazily behind the propellers.
"When do we make port again?" you ask, finally breaking the silence.
"Tomorrow," Joel replies.
"I’m gonna miss you, Joel," you say quietly.
"What are you talking about, darlin?" Joel says as his eyebrows knit together in concern.
"I'm going to catch a flight back to New York tomorrow.”
Joel stares at you for a long time after saying that you’ll be leaving when you get to port the next day. Or at least you hope you will be. You don't even know where you will be, let alone if there is an airport or a ticket home you can afford.
"I would really hate to see you go, darlin," Joel says with a serious look on his face.
"I think it's for the best," you answer softly.
"The best for you?" he asks. You stay quiet for a long time. Are you deciding what is best for you and/or running from your problems?
"I don't know… " you answer truthfully.
You take another small sip of the wine Joel had poured you and watch the liquid as you swirl it around in your glass.
"You know wine always tastes better in the sauna," Joel says, watching you.
You turn to him, "That does sound nice, but I’m sure the staff who work the spa have already gone to bed."
"Well, good thing the sauna is in my bathroom," he says as the corners of his mouth ease into a smile.
"You have a sauna in your bathroom?" you ask, impressed.
"Of course, so what do you say?"
"I'm not really dressed for a sauna," you gesture down to your shorts and T-shirt.
"I have a robe that you can borrow unless you'd rather go without." Joel winks and starts walking away to grab the robe.
"So what else do you have up here all to yourself?" you ask, liking the distraction from the mess of a night you've been through.
You walk through a large sitting room, a bedroom with the biggest bed you've ever seen, and then finally to the bathroom. Joel calling the tub in his bathroom a soaking tub is an understatement; it's more like a small swimming pool sunken in the middle of the floor.
"You can get changed here." Joel leads you into an extravagant walk-in closet, complete with a large vanity table and chaise lounge. He hangs a white cotton robe on a hook next to the door, making it the only garment in the empty closet. You realize Joel's room must include his and her's closets, but Joel has no use for this one.
You undress down to nothing and slip the buttery soft robe over your skin. You could live in this robe. There are definitely some amazing perks to being rich. You walk out of the closet, and Joel is waiting for you in a matching cotton robe.
"See, it's a perfect fit," he says.
"I don't even want to know how much one of these robes costs," you say. 
Joel laughs a little at your comment. "The sauna is through this door here," Joel says and pushes the door next to him open, holding it for you to enter first.
You don't know what you've been expecting when Joel had said he had a sauna in his bathroom, but the sauna you walk into is more than you could have ever imagined.
Every inch of the room is covered in light wood. The benches look as though they conform perfectly to your body and are accented with white pillows. The steam is warm and envelops you as soon as you walk into the room. However, the most breathtaking part of the sauna is the floor-to-ceiling window. It makes it feel like the sauna is open to the ocean itself, and the dark water reflecting the dim light of the room is extremely romantic.
"How do you ever leave?" you ask after a few speechless seconds.
Joel laughs again and takes a seat in the center of the bench, staring out into the dark water. You sit next to him and realize you might be too close, so you try to scoot away subtly.
"I don't bite, darlin."
You laugh awkwardly but remain close enough to feel the heat of his body next to yours. You close your eyes and try to let go of the evening. You think about watching the dolphins swimming in the cove while Joel sits next to you on the jet ski.
"You look like you're feeling a little better," Joel whispers.
"I am. This is exactly what I needed." You pause for a few seconds and add, "You keep saving me today."
"You've saved me on this trip too. Can I tell you a secret?" he asks, leaning in closer to you.
"Of course," you answer, and your heart starts beating faster.
"The rest of Sarah's friends drive me insane."
"That's your secret?" you bump his shoulder with yours. "That’s a really weak secret. They drive me insane too."
"If that’s not a secret, then tell me a better one," he says.
"What kind of secret?"
"Tell me why you’re leaving tomorrow?" he asks and looks into your eyes.
You pause, considering if you should tell him the truth, but he is getting Todd as a son-in-law. So you choose a different path.
"I can't afford to stay," you say finally. Taking Joel's silence as confusion, you elaborate, "I'm completely broke. I've put all of my money into school. I work as a bartender and live off of my tips and ramen noodles."
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why that means you need to leave tomorrow," Joel says somberly.
That’s a fair point; Sarah and her father have paid for absolutely everything.  It isn't costing you anything to stay on this once-in-a-lifetime vacation. You need to come up with a reason to leave before he sees through the holes in your story.
"I have to get back to New York, get ready to move to Cambridge, and find a job there before the semester starts. I only have a few weeks of living costs saved up." This is partly true; you do need to do all of those things, but going back early would actually complicate things for you. You can't move into your new apartment in Cambridge until two weeks before the semester starts. So going back early would just mean you'd sit in your old apartment with nothing to do. Plus, if you went back early, you would have a few more weeks of expenses to take care of, and you already quit your job.
"What if I could help you find a new position in Cambridge?" Joel asks.
"What do you mean?" you ask, surprised.
"I have some connections in Cambridge; if I helped you get a few interviews, would you be able to stay longer?"
You can't find any words to respond. You've been really worried about what you would do for work when you got to Cambridge. You don't know anyone there and planned on spending the two weeks before the semester handing in resumes at different restaurants.
"You would do that for me?" you ask.
"Absolutely. I’ll make some calls in the morning. You don't have to stay, but I would enjoy your company if you did. The Bahamas are beautiful this time of year. I don't want you to miss it."
"Okay, I'll stay," you say quietly. "Thank you, Joel."
You can't believe this man's kindness to you. If it's important to Joel that you stay on the trip, then you will figure out how to deal with Todd and Sarah for a little while longer.
"I'm glad to hear it," he says with a smile.
The sky starts to lighten in the early morning hours, so you stand and tell him, "I should head back down to my own room and get some rest."
"Probably a good idea," he says and follows you out of the sauna.
You go back into the massive closet and change back into your clothes, hanging the robe back on the hook. You walk back out into the main room, and Joel is waiting for you, still in his robe.
"Let me walk you down."
"That's really okay. You’ve done so much for me already," you say.
"How long will you stay?"
"I'm not sure. At least another week." You smile at Joel and walk out the door.
***
Joel shuts the door behind you as you walk down the hall. He's relieved that he convinced you to stay for at least another week, but he knows there's something else that's the real cause for you being so upset tonight.
He knows that you're not part of Sarah's usual friend group, but after talking to you tonight, he's confused about how you're even friends at all. You clearly have big goals and work hard to see them happen. Sarah doesn't have any goals other than becoming an 'influencer.'
The thought of you working at every spare moment to put yourself through school makes his stomach twist at how badly he's spoiled Sarah. You deserve so much better than to be just scraping by. He would do anything he could to help you find something better. Hell, he would have offered to pay for your tuition, too, if he thought you would accept it.
Joel pulls out his phone and sends an email to the connection he has at a law firm in Cambridge. He's done some business with them in the past and figures it would be a much better fit for you than making people drinks. With how much business he's given the firm, he knows he can at least get you an interview.
On his home screen, there's a notification of a phone call from his financial advisor, Alester, that he missed while he was in the sauna with you. Alester never calls at this hour, so he knows something is wrong. Joel calls him back immediately, waiting impatiently to hear his voice on the other end.
“Joel, I am so sorry for the early hour," Alester says.
“No need to apologize; what's going on?" He asks urgently.
“I am afraid it is not good news.”
“Just tell me, Alester," he says, doing his best not to get impatient with the man. He's worked for Joel for years, and Joel trusts him with his life. There's an infuriatingly long pause on Alester's end. He sighs before he finally responds. “Blaine is back, sir."
***
The sun is streaming through the glass doors of the balcony as you finally open your eyes. Your head is pounding from a lack of sleep and caffeine. You want to order coffee up to your room, but you need to shower too badly to wait. After running all the way to the yacht and then sitting in the sauna with Joel, you are salty with dried sweat. You probably should have showered last night, but, after reaching your room in the early morning hours, you collapsed on the bed and had fallen asleep in your clothes.
You walk into the bathroom, expecting to look like a mess from all the events of the night, your clothes are extremely wrinkled, but you are surprised to see your hair still looks flawless. "I wish I could afford to get a blowout more often," you say to your reflection, pulling on a few strands as you admire the style.
You put your hair up and step into the hot water of the shower, washing off the previous day. You stand under the steaming water until you are getting a little dizzy from the heat. As you stand there, you can't help but think about Joel. He's been so kind to you, and you can't help but wonder if there's a chance he wants more from your relationship than what one would typically expect between a man and a friend of his daughter's. You shake your head. You can't allow yourself to think that way. Joel lives in a world you know nothing about. Not only is he much older than you, he is also Sarah's dad. Besides, he can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you?
Returning your thoughts to reality, you finish rinsing your hair and turn off the water. You wrap a towel around yourself, and make your way back into the bedroom to cool down.
The screen of your phone is illuminated, so you pick it up and lounge back on the bed. You have several notifications from the group chat between you and your roommates, Aubrey and Lin. You know you need to let them know what's going on.
Aubrey: Hey? Are you still alive? We haven't heard from you in days.
Lin: Maybe she finally found herself a rebound, and that’s why she’s too busy for us. My guess is a sexy pool boy!
You: Sorry, you two. Signal has been spotty. A sexy pool boy, Lin? Is that your guess or your fantasy?
Lin: I think a sexy pool boy should be everyone’s fantasy. ‘Pool boy, refresh my drink, and while you are at it, come rub me down with some tanning lotion.’
Aubrey: Lin, you’re the reason I can’t let Gianni read our group messages!
Lin: Sorry, we aren’t as lucky as you to have an amazing boyfriend who kisses the ground we walk on. Some of us have to use our imaginations.
You: I miss you two so much! I wish you were here with me.
Aubrey: How is everything going? Is the boat as big as we are imagining?
You: Honestly, it is probably bigger than you’re imagining. It’s not so much a boat as it is a super yacht. The bathroom in my room is as big as our entire apartment, and I’m just in a guest room. I have my own private balcony! Oh, and yesterday, I got to see a pod of dolphins!
Lin: Dolphins? How cool! I wish I had a rich friend who took me on expensive vacations.
You: Yeah, it sounds good in theory, but in reality, that rich friend was the one sleeping with my boyfriend for months.
Aubrey: Sarah was the one Todd was cheating on you with?! Why didn’t you lead with that?
You: Oh, that’s not even the worst part. Todd is here on the yacht too. We had already left port when I found out, so I’ve been stuck here with him.
Lin: No way! What the hell did that scumbag have to say for himself when he saw you?
You: Well, he pretended not to know who I am, and I went along with it.
Aubrey: I’m so sorry!
Lin: Why didn’t you call him out?
You: I probably should have, but I didn’t want to make things awkward. Like I said before, I am literally stuck on a boat with these people. Plus, Sarah clearly doesn’t know. I didn’t want to hurt her.
Aubrey: That makes sense. Maybe she will dump him before things get too serious.
You: Oh, one more thing, they got engaged at dinner last night. I had a front row seat for the entire thing. And then their after party.
Aubrey: Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you? I don’t know exactly how I would find you, but you know I would figure it out.
You: Thanks Aubrey, but I’m okay.
Lin: Shit, this is really messed up. What do you mean by ‘you had a front row seat to their after party?’
You: I walked out to the pool deck and caught them having sex in the pool. Then I tripped over a deck chair trying to get out of there.
Lin: Did they catch you?
You: I still don’t know. I really hope not. I don’t know how I would show my face in front of either of them again if they did.
Aubrey: How did Todd even meet Sarah? It’s not like your social circles mix very well.
You: I was thinking about that a lot last night. I am pretty sure that they met at my birthday party.
Lin: So you're telling me when we were all celebrating you, Todd was off hitting on someone else?
You: Pretty much. I’m realizing a lot about who Todd really is. I think his whole plan was to find someone rich. I was thinking about it last night. I remember that towards the end of our relationship, he made lots of comments about how poor I am.
Aubrey: You’re not poor! You’re a college student just trying to make it through school.
Lin: Isn’t Sarah the one who dropped out sophomore year to become an influencer?
You: Yes, that is Sarah. She does actually have a big social media following. And as you both know, she comes from a lot of money.
Lin: Well, that’s pretty easy when you can buy whatever you want and post pictures of yourself on your dad’s billion dollar yacht.
Aubrey: So how long until you get back?
You: I think I’m staying another week. We’re sailing to the Bahamas. I was told that we will make port tonight.
Lin: Well, that sounds amazing. Do you know what you’re going to be doing?
You: I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to ask Joel what has been planned.
Lin: Oh, who is Joel?
You: Joel is just a friend.
Aubrey: I’m glad to hear at least you’re making friends. Then you have a way to escape from Sarah and Todd.
Lin: Me too. Any pool boys?
You: Haha Lin! Very funny. No, I have not made friends with any of the pool boys.
Lin: Well, maybe you should. There is no better way to get over someone than getting under someone.
Aubrey: I hate to say it, but I agree with Lin. Go get some! There have to be some island hotties at one of your stops.
You: I can’t believe you two. I have to go. Someone is knocking at my door. I miss you two so much!
Chuckling at the antics of your two best friends, you set your phone down on the bedside table, smiling to yourself. It's good to know that you have at least two friends you can count on for anything.
You wrap your towel tight around you and check the peephole in the door, relieved to see a maid at your door and not someone else since you're not even dressed yet. You open the door and are surprised to see she's holding a tray and a box in her arms.
"Good morning, Miss," the maid says with a friendly smile on her face.
Confused, you return her smile but look suspiciously at the items she's holding. "Good morning. I think there may have been a mix-up. I didn't call down for anything."
"Don't worry. There was no mix-up," she assures you, taking a step through the open door. "Where would you like me to set this?" she asks.
You open the door wider and let her in to set the tray down on the table. She sets the box gently on the bed and turns to exit, still smiling at you.
"Do you know who sent this?" you ask, tracking the woman with your eyes as she steps away from the bed. However, she does not answer your question. Instead, she continues to proceed to the door with a small knowing smile on her face that makes you wonder what she knows that you don't.
"Have a good day, Miss," she says, giving a small head nod as she flashes you one last grin.
"Thank you," you say and close the door behind her.
You make your way over to the tray first. Lifting the cover, you find a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon and eggs. There's also a small pot of coffee and a fluffy pastry. Your mouth is already watering at the sight of the food, and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes and imagining how good it will all taste, but you replace the cover.
The anticipation for what the box could contain is too great.
The box is tied close with a red ribbon, so you untie it and set it to the side. You remove the lid to the box and are surprised to find a white cotton robe. Immediately, a smile crosses your face, and a small giggle of glee escapes your lips. There's a small handwritten note resting on top.
Darlin,
Please meet me on our secret deck later this evening. Enjoy some time to yourself.
P.S. I wanted you to be comfortable.
Sincerely,
Joel.
You set the card down on the nightstand, right next to the little pink seashell, and you slip on the robe. It's even softer than the night before, if that's possible, and it smells like sandalwood - It smells like Joel.
The clock reads 4:30 pm before you finally get out of bed and dress for the day. You pick out a form-fitting sundress with a delicate blue shell pattern along the hemline. It's one of the pieces that Joel purchased for you at Amorebelle. You aren't used to wearing dresses, but you want to look nice when you see him.
You carefully do your makeup at the vanity table in your bathroom. As you step back and look in the mirror, you are impressed with your own appearance; you look like you belong – almost.
You make your way to Joel's secret deck. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you get closer. You stop as you round the corner to the private location; all you can see is the back of Joel's head as he holds a phone to his ear. The muscles in his shoulders are tense, and you can tell by his low tone that the conversation is not a pleasant one.
"What do you mean he’s threatening to contact members of the family?" You hear Joel say. "He has demands now? What are his demands?"
There is a long pause after what Joel says, and you watch him running a hand through his hair; he seems to be on edge. He listens carefully to whoever he is talking to, and you consider turning around.
"We need to start protecting the family assets. I need you to review my father's will again and ensure it is airtight. He will not get a dime out of me."
You know you should turn around and give Joel privacy, but your curiosity gets the better of you when he starts talking about his family. You lean against the railing to wait, and it squeaks. It squeaks loudly.
Joel turns his head and gives you a small half-smile. He waves his hand, gesturing for you to come to join him. You hesitantly walk over, taking as much time as possible.
"I agree that's a good plan. Lock everything down, and let me know if we get any more calls from him. I'm counting on you, Alester. Don't let me down," Joel says. He hangs up the phone and sets it on the table next to the lounge chair he is sitting in. He sighs, turns to the laptop sitting next to him, and starts typing.
"Hey, I hope I am not interrupting anything," you say and slowly walk up to him.
"Darlin," Joel says as he closes the laptop and turns to face you. "You're not interrupting anything; I was just getting caught up on some work stuff."
"I just noticed you were on the phone, and I didn't want to interrupt a business call or something," you say, trying to explain why you were leaning against the railing and eavesdropping on his phone call.
"Oh, that wasn't business. I just needed to deal with some family issues," he says as he moves a white and blue striped towel and a bottle of tanning lotion off of the lounge chair next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and a natural smile finally mirrors in his eyes.
"I am because of you. Thank you so much for sending me breakfast, and that robe was amazing. I honestly can't remember the last time I let myself lay around in bed all day. I really enjoyed it," you say and sit as gracefully as you can manage in the lounge chair next to Joel.
"Good to hear. You deserved a day to relax like that. You don't need to thank me for the robe; after seeing you in it last night, I knew it belonged to you. It looked like it was made for you, so it was only right that I send it down to you," he says.
His words make your heart beat fast again, and your face flushes. You know you are getting too close to your friend's very handsome and single father than is wise. But, when he says things like that, it is hard not to.
You think about telling him the truth about why you were so upset, but you don't want to ruin the fun you're having together by unloading about your ex-boyfriend, who is about to be his son-in-law.
"So, are you excited to walk your daughter down the aisle?" you ask, quickly trying to change the subject, so you don't blurt out your history with Todd.
"Honestly, I'm not sure if I will walk Sarah down the aisle or if she will want her mom to," Joel answers.
His response surprises you, and it must show on your face because Joel continues with his explanation.
"I was only with Marnie, Sarah's mother, for a short time. Marnie got married to someone else shortly after and had Sarah. She believed that Sarah was biologically her husband's and not mine. I didn't even know Sarah existed. She had Sarah take a DNA test when she was ten; she was linked to some of the Miller family members who had also taken the test. Only then did we find out that Sarah was mine."
"I had no idea, Joel. Sarah never said anything about any of this," you say. You feel so sorry for all of them.
"When Marnie's husband died, she told Sarah and me the truth. However, Sarah had grown up with another man as her father, and I never wanted to try and fill his place in her life. So I never really took on that fatherly role with her. Instead, I bought her everything she ever asked me for, and that was the basis of our relationship for a long time."
You sit there staring at the pain in Joel's face for a while. He never takes his eyes off of the ocean but continues to tell you about his past.
"Over the years, we've tried to build our relationship, and I take her on vacation with me every summer, but we still don't have the typical relationship you would expect. At times, Marnie and I have a hard time getting along; we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. So I stayed back and let Marnie raise Sarah; in a lot of ways, I don't agree with how she raised her," Joel says with a sigh. "That's why you're all here. Sarah and I don't know how to talk to each other because we have nothing in common and barely any memories together. So dinner gets a little awkward without others to fill the silence," Joel says, seeming slightly embarrassed about admitting this.
"I had no idea. Sarah always made it sound like her life was so perfect."
"In all the ways Sarah measures her life, it has been," Joel says, but you aren't quite sure what he means by it.
A maid with a tray of tropical cocktails interrupts your conversation, and she sets the drinks on the table between Joel and you.
"Thank you, Molly, these look wonderful," Joel says.
"Of course, sir," Molly says with a small smile.
"How's your sister doing? I hope she's making a speedy recovery."
"She is, sir. She should be back on her feet again in no time."
"When we get back, you should make some time to go and see her. I'll tell Reggie to add some more PTO for you," Joel says.
"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate that," she says and turnsto leave.
As you observe the interaction between Joel and one of his staff members, you realize you've never seen him treat an employee poorly. However, Sarah snaps at them to get their attention, and you suspect she doesn't even know their names or anything about them. She doesn't even treat them like they're people. This explains why you never felt like you fit in with Sarah and her friends, but you feel comfortable and want to spend all your time with Joel. He doesn't look down on you for being poor, but Sarah does. The irony of it all is that the only one on the ship who knows exactly how poor you are, is Joel.
You stare at Joel, and when he finally meets your gaze, you can't help but smile at him. "Thank you for telling me all of this," you say.
"Thank you for listening," he responds simply.
"It seems like we're making a habit of telling each other all of our secrets," you say with a small giggle.
"I hope that continues."
"Me too," you answer.
"Sarah has another dinner planned on the upper deck. Can I walk you up?" Joel asks you.
"I'm actually feeling a little seasick, I don't think it would be wise for me to eat right now," you answer. You don't feel like spending another evening with Sarah and her new fiance.
"Do you need a doctor? We have a nurse on the yacht, but we'll be making port in just a few hours; I can call and have one meet us at the dock."
"No, I'm okay, really. I just need to go back and lie down."
"Okay, if you're sure. I'll walk you down to your room," Joel said, checking his watch.
"No, no. I'm fine, really."
"Okay," he says reluctantly, "but please use the intercom in your room if you need anything."
"I will, I promise," you say with a small wave and leave to slowly make your way back to your room.
You take your time moving through the ship. You don't want to run into anyone heading to Sarah's dinner, where the topic of conversation is sure to be all about her recent engagement.
You're relieved when you see that most of the hallways are completely empty, so you quickly start toward your room.
"Hey!"
You turn and see Reggie walking up behind you.
"Hey, Reggie. It's been a while," you say with a smile.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"I'm going back to my room. I wasn't really in the mood to spend dinner with everyone."
"Well, I was on my way to play some cards with some of the crew members. Why don't you come?"
Reggie must have seen the hesitation on your face. "Come on. It's actually fun to hang out with normal people every once in a while."
You laugh. You didn't realise that Reggie thought you were just as wealthy as the rest of Sarah's friends. "Reggie, I am a normal person. Let's go.”
Joel makes his way up to dinner alone, silently wishing you would be joining. You're one of the only ones in the group that he actually cares to have a conversation with. However, it might be for the best that you're not coming. Joel found himself always drawn to you, and if he wasn't careful, Sarah would catch on to his interest in her friend. He knows that would not go over well.
Joel's the last one to arrive, and he takes the only seat available next to Sarah's new fiance, Todd.
"I never got the chance to congratulate you on the engagement last night," Joel says as he shakes Todd's hand. "I rushed out because I had an urgent business matter I had to attend to."
Joel hoped that would adequately explain his quick departure the night before. He feels a little guilty that he didnt stay to celebrate and instead took off after you to make sure she was okay.
If he's being honest with himself, his evening spent with you, talking in the sauna, was much more enjoyable. He probably won't be winning any best dad of the year awards, though. He already smoothed things over with Sarah this morning. He showed up to her room with a pair of diamond earrings from Tiffany's. He'd bought them for her birthday, but they were perfect as a stand-in engagement present. Once he brought out the diamond, he didn't think she heard another word that he said. He’s happy to see that she’s wearing them tonight. She truly did look happy, and Joel prayed she would be in her marriage.
"Thank you so much, sir. I hope you approve of our engagement," Todd says.
Joel almost forgot that it was customary for a man to ask for his daughter's hand to get the father's approval of the marriage. "I think you two make a great couple. I'm looking forward to having you as part of the family, Todd," Joel says and then stands up. He taps his wine glass to get the group's attention. Everyone at the table quiets quickly and turns to him.
"I want to congratulate Sarah and Todd on their engagement. May they find happiness in each other and enjoy each other's company for many years to come." Sarah's friends all clap at this statement. Once the quiet returns he starts again. “As my engagement gift to the couple, I would like to throw you two an engagement party at my home here in the Bahamas."
This announcement receives a very excited response from all of Sarah's friends. Sarah's face is beaming at all of the attention she is getting. She smiles and stands up to make an announcement of her own. Joel notices she shakes her head gracefully from side to side, causing the earrings to catch the light. She is an expert at showing off wealth; no wonder she’s doing so well as an influencer.
“Thank you so much, Daddy! I'm so glad you approve, and an engagement party will be the perfect way to announce to the world that I'm about to be married. I am so excited about the upcoming wedding, and I would be honoured if all of you were part of our wedding party." Sarah is met with murmurs of agreement from the men and squeals of excitement from the women present. She sits down with a huge smile, clearly pleased with the group's reactions. “Daddy, can you hire some professional photographers for the engagement party? I need some really good pictures to post."
“Of course," Joel says.
“I wish we could have gotten some great shots of the actual engagement, but Todd didn't think about that part of it," Sarah says, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I told you it wasn't exactly planned. We had such an amazing day, and it just felt like the right time," Todd says defensively.
“I'm marrying a true romantic," Sarah says, resting her chin on Todd's shoulder.
“Is there anything else you two need?" Joel asks, trying his best to be supportive.
“I’ll need to pick one more bridesmaid so we have even numbers," Sarah says to Joel.
“Why not ask your old roomate?" Joel asks, confused as to why Sarah isn't planning on asking her most likable and attractive friend.
“Oh, I didn't notice that she wasn't here for my announcement. That sort of works out for the best, though. I’m going to ask someone different. She doesn't really fit into the vision I have for the wedding," Sarah says, sounding very much like a snob.
“And what exactly is your vision for the wedding?" Joel asks, annoyed with his daughter's uncouth response.
“I want everything to be glamorous," Sarah says as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'll still invite her, but as part of the wedding party, you have to fit the aesthetic."
“That's true; it's not like she would be comfortable with the level of finery at the wedding anyway. It’s very obvious that she’s lower class. I think our guests would be able to sense that. If she can't afford to buy a new dress for her birthday party, it's not likely that she will be able to afford a bridesmaid's dress anyway," Todd says with a smug smile on his face.
Sarah giggles and then turns to talk to the woman next to her about possible venues for the wedding.
“Didn't you just meet her this week?" Joel asks Joel in a low voice.
“Yeah, Sarah told me they went to college together or something," Todd says and takes a bite off his plate.
“Then how would you know she couldn't afford a new dress for her birthday party?" Joel says with quiet suspicion.
Todd's eyes go wide in shock, and he nearly chokes on the food in his mouth. He takes a few moments to recover and then says, “I think Sarah told me that. She went to her birthday, and she had to borrow a dress because she couldn't afford a new one."
Although Joel doesn't doubt that Sarah would gossip about something as petty as not being able to afford a new dress, he finds it odd that Todd would remember something like that. Todd's reaction tells Joel that he is hiding something, and Joel's suspicion is only increased by his quick shift to join Sarah's conversation.
Do you and Todd know each other outside of Sarah?
Joel eats the rest of his meal in silence and makes an excuse about having work to do to get out of the rest of the evening's activities. Instead of heading back to his room, he goes to the captain to tell him about the change of plans. 
After Joel's conversation with the captain, he makes his way to his office, which is located a floor below the guest rooms. He thinks about going and checking on you but decides it is best to let you get some sleep.
Joel's office on the yacht is a carbon copy of his office at home. It has a large wooden desk in the center and a large dark leather armchair. The only difference is the view is spectacularly better on the yacht. A large windowed balcony sits behind the desk, so Joel can watch the ocean as he works.
Joel sinks into his leather chair and opens the laptop on his desk. A notification glows on the screen, informing him of the one hundred and twenty-seven emails waiting in his inbox. He pulls out his phone instead and finds his event planner's phone number in his contacts.
“Hello, this is Jessica of Jessica's events."
“Jessica, this is Joel Miller."
“Mr. Miller, it’s great to hear from you again. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
“I'm calling to see if you can organize a party for me. My daughter just got engaged, and I want to throw her an engagement party at my home in the Bahamas."
“Congratulations, Mr. Miller. I would love to help plan such a happy occasion. When can I pencil in your event?"
“Two days from now," he says, knowing the absurdity of the request.
“Did I hear you right? You want me to plan an entire event in two days?"
“If anyone can do it, it's you, Jessica. I’m willing to pay double."
“You have always known how to close a deal. I will have everything ready for you, Mr. Miller. Does your daughter have a theme in mind?”
Joel hates that he has to say it out loud, “She said the theme of her wedding is…glamor."
He hears a small giggle escape from Jessica on the other end of the phone, and she quickly tries to cover it with a cough.
“I know how it sounds," Joel says, embarrassed. “That’s why I am trusting you with this event. I know you will make it tasteful. After the engagement party, I’ll have Sarah talk with you about wedding plans."
“That sounds great, Mr. Miller. I will see you in two days."
“Thank you very much. Goodbye," Joel says and hangs up the phone. This wedding is going to be expensive, and Joel already expects to foot the bill for everything. Extravagant is one thing, but Sarah's taste is beyond even that.
Joel turns his attention back to his laptop screen and the blinking email notification, but he can't get you out of his head. Instead of working, he pulls up his social media pages and searches for your name. He quickly finds your social media pages. You're not very active; most of your pictures are candid shots of you and your friends, two women that looke kind and a lot more down-to-earth than his own daughter.
Joels slightly disappointed that you don't have more pictures for him to scroll through and very little about your life. He wants to know more about you, but it seems like you're very private with your online presence.
He sighs and closes the social media pages, finally returning to the emails he’s dreading sorting through. The newest email in his inbox makes his heart sink. It's from an unknown sender and contains a single sentence.
I know who I really am, and the whole world will, too, if you don't meet my demands.
"I am a normal person," you say again, smiling as you walk with Reggie. He raises an eyebrow skeptically at you.
"You don't believe me?" you ask.
"Right, because us normal people get invited to one of the largest private yachts in the world as guests all the time. You don't have to pretend you're not rich to fit in with the crew. They will like you because you are actually nice," Reggie says.
"I am the furthest thing from rich," you laugh.
"Oh, yeah? Prove it," Reggie says with a teasing smile on his face.
You quickly pull out your phone and find a picture of you and your two roommates in your apartment and show it to Reggie.
"What does this prove?" he asks.
"This is a picture of me and my two roommates, Lin and Aubrey; we are sitting in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment. I’m a bartender at a little dive bar, and I currently have two hundred and thirty dollars in my bank account," you say matter of factly.
Reggie's expression changes from one of teasing to one of shock.
"Are you serious?" he asks.
"I mean, I can pull up a bank statement if you really want," you say with a smile.
"Then how did you end up as one of Sarah's friends?"
"Sarah and I were roommates during our first few years at NYU. I think Sarah was placed in the regular dorm rooms to teach her what it was like to be a regular person or something," you say, only half joking. You still haven't figured that one out. Maybe her dad was trying to teach her a life lesson. "Anyway, she hated it and dropped out her sophomore year, but we remained friends and have been in and out of touch over the years. She randomly invited me on this vacation, and I accepted. I didn't expect the yacht to be quite this big, though."
Once you are done with your explanation, you are on the lowest floor of the yacht. You're surprised at how nice the staff area is. Perhaps you'd been expecting it to be like a scene from the lower decks of the movie 'Titanic,' but the lowest level of the ship looks like walking into a lobby of a four-star hotel.
You make your way into what must be the staff dining room. There’s a large group of people surrounding a circular table in the middle of a game of cards. Music is playing in the background, and snacks and beer litter the table. It looks like this is going to be the most comfortable you've been on your trip so far.
"Everyone be nice; we have a newcomer," Reggie says as he pulls out a chair for you.
The mood changes slightly as you sit down, and Reggie sits next to you. You realize you’re still wearing the sundress that Joel bought you, and you must look like you are made of money.
"Hey, I'm Max," says a man with black hair and olive skin.
"Hey, Max," you stick your hand out to shake his and you introduce yourself. 
"Nice to meet you. Tell us about yourself."
"There isn't much to tell. I'm a bartender at a little hole-in-the-wall in New York, and I'm trying to put myself through law school," you say nonchalantly.
"What bar?" a girl across the table asks.
"It's called McGregor's."
"No way! I've been there before," Max says. “You have the best nachos!"
You laugh. “Yeah, we do. I would eat an entire plate by myself if no one were watching."
You feel the entire table relax as they all realize that you aren't like the rest of the guests on the yacht.
"What are we playing?" you ask, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
"Strip Poker."
Your throat goes dry at the thought of undressing in front of a room full of strangers. You're afraid to swallow the piece of popcorn you just placed in your mouth. You look around, and everyone is still fully clothed, and your heart rate starts to slow. Max smiles, clearly finding enjoyment in your shock.
"Max, don't scare her off already," Reggie chuckles. “Do you want a beer?”
“You wouldn't believe what one of the 'Richies' asked me today,” Brenna says
"Oh, this is going to be good. Brenna always has the best stories," Reggie leans over and whispers to you. After a few beers and a hand or two of actual poker, everyone seems completely at ease with you.
"I was cleaning up a wine glass he'd dropped, and he started hitting on me. Obviously, he has no idea what the real world is like, so he starts asking questions as a way to talk to me."
"Oh no," Max says with a laugh.
"He asked me about living on the bottom deck of the yacht, and I tell him how it takes some getting used to because we are below the water down here. Then he asks me how we use our balconies if they're underwater."
You snort into your glass, glad you hadn't been taking a sip of the beer at the moment, or it would be flowing out of your nose. You set your beer down and ask, "Oh, please tell me you had a good comeback."
She smiles brightly, "I told him we could only use them at low tide. Then he nods and says, 'That makes sense.' I swear they are all clueless."
Brenna starts laughing, and the whole table joins in, but by the time you catch your breath, you have tears in the corners of your eyes. You have not laughed like this the entire time you've been on the ship.
"No offense; I know Sarah is your friend and all, but how do you stand spending time with them?" Max asks.
"Oh, trust me, it’s a challenge. I sneak off by myself whenever I get the chance. No one seems to really notice, especially after Sarah's engagement."
"Oh, man, her fiance is a real tool, isn't he?" Brenna adds.
"He's a social climber too, so they are actually a great fit," Charlotte says. Charlotte is one of the older staff members and hasn't said much throughout the night.
"Well, that makes sense about the fiance, but do you mean Sarah is one too?" Max asks.
They seem to have forgotten that you are there, or at least they forget that you know Sarah personally. However, you keep your mouth shut not because you want to know more, but because you are trying to act as if you don't care too much.
"I started working for Mr. Miller when Sarah and the horrible woman she has as a mother first came around. That same day, the staff was all told that Sarah was Mr. Miller's daughter and to make sure she had everything she needed. Marnie, Sarah's mother, spent the whole day ordering the staff around like she was the owner of the house," said Charlotte.
"From my experience with Marnie, that sounds about right," Max offers.
"Sarah was raised by another man by the name of Winston Radcliff. Some of the staff had been around when Mr. Miller first brought Marnie around. The rumor was that Marnie threw Mr. Miller aside for Radcliff right after she found out she was pregnant because Radcliff could offer her a better position in society."
You can't imagine someone who had the chance to be with Joel choosing another person over him. You can't help but ask, "What did Winston offer that Joel couldn't?"
"Radcliff was the next in line for an earldom. It turned out that the earldom came with a shabby little estate that cost Winston his fortune to keep standing. The marriage quickly turned sour, and when the earl died, Marnie was just as quick to get a paternity test for Sarah."
"In my opinion, Mr. Miller was better off not knowing the truth. Marnie always shows up asking for more money. Sarah has always wanted something, even though Mr. Miller buys her more than she could ever need." Charlotte says.
"Was Joel in love with Marnie?" you ask, not knowing if you really want the answer.
"No, I don't think he ever really loved her. Maybe he could have found a woman right for him if Marnie hadn't been around for the last fourteen years, scaring away every decent woman he has dated. She thinks that if she can keep him single long enough, he will fall back in love with her, but Mr. Miller will never forgive her for what she did."
You nod and turn to see Reggie staring at you with a strange, almost hurt look on his face. He turns away from you before you can ask him what's wrong.
"Well, I think I'm going to head to bed," Brenna says, and the others all stand up to follow.
"You should come play cards with us again," Max says.
"Absolutely! We are here every night, and you are welcome to join us," Brenna adds.
"Thank you. I will." You're happy to know they've welcomed you as one of them.
You say a quick goodnight to everyone and head back up the stairs to the upper decks. Reggie's room is on the lower deck, so you walk by yourself. It must be later than you thought because the lights in the pool area are already turned off.
You feel silly rushing across the dark deck, but it makes you sort of nervous being alone on such a big ship. You're careful to avoid the deck chairs this time, and you're relieved to make it to the doors leading into the guestroom corridor.
"Where the hell have you been?"
You stop dead in your tracks and don't want to turn around. You know that tone of voice from countless arguments. It's Todd, the last person on the entire ship that you want to be alone with. You slowly turn, knowing you're going to have to face him eventually.
He stumbles a step towards you, and you back up to avoid a collision if he falls.
"Are you drunk?"
"I believe I asked a question first," Todd stutters.
"I was playing a game of cards with some of the crew."
Todd laughs and rolls his eyes at you. He again stumbles a little closer, and you're trapped between him and your door. He leans forward and places an arm on either side of you, blocking your escape. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he laughs. He's beyond drunk.
"Just like you. A yacht full of every thing you could want, and you spend your time with the help."
"Get off of me, Todd!"
"You know you still want me," Todd says, lowering his face closer to yours. You push against his chest, trying to get him off.
Todd is suddenly ripped backward, so forcefully you know it wasn't of his own doing. 
You see Joel standing behind Todd with a fist full of his shirt. “Get your ass to bed before I throw you off my ship."
146 notes · View notes
estxkios · 2 days
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Hello :3 I luv luv luv all of ur fanfics / headcannons <333
I wanted to ask if you could write a 2005 Bill headcannon where the readers style is cutecore. I haven’t seen anyone do this yet and have been very nervous to ask :0
have a good rest of your day / night you lovely person!!!
OPPOSITES ATTRACT ੈ✩‧₊˚
2005 bill kaulitz x cutecore!reader
summary: the request :3
warnings: just fluff, implied fem reader but i tried to keep it neutral :,)
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the first time he saw you he thought you were the cutest thing ever.
this man did the whole 360 turn to see if his eyes were correct!!:3 (and deep into your relationship honestly he still does this because he thinks ur just adorable !)
the pink skirt you were wearing literally made him go insane he just had to get ur number
i can imagine you giving him the just the cutest dantiest pink bracelet ever, and no matter what hes wearing or what hes doing that day he keeps it on.
like this scary looking man dressed in all black wearing this small little bow bracelet just for u :>
speaking of things like accessories, he randomly takes your jewelry, especially necklaces
one day he took one of your pink chunky necklaces to wear to an event and the other boys were making fun of him
"no way ur really gonna wear that to the event" tom would say
and bil would just confidently reply
"i think it's cute !! plus, it adds to my outfit." :>
needless to say they kept making fun of him, but bill just stood on bussiness.
he would be grabbing the necklace the whole night
just smiling and thinking of you while he touched it
another thing that bill would do is watch you while you did your makeup.
wether it be just some pink eye shadow or a full glitter look he would always be fascinated about how good it always ended up looking !!
so one day he just sat next to you while you were doing your eye shadow and said,
"me next?"
"hm..?" he just sat and looked at you patiently as you processed his request.
"ohhh !" you grabbed your brush and the pallet you were using, "which color do you want?"
he pointed at the light pink, "jus' like you"
you giggled, did he really want pink eyeshadow or was he joking?
he looked at you seriously.
you looked at him with a questioning look as you picked up the brush, rubbing it against the shade he chose.
you lifted his spiky hair out of the way and grabbed his jaw for support,
he stared directly into your eyes as you prepared to start, making you giggle
"close your eyes liebe," you softly said as you started to put the color on his eyes in the normal shape he usually did with his black eyeshadow.
"all done!" you said moments later, putting down the brush.
bill blinked a few times before fully opening his eyes and looking into the mirror.
"cute," you whispered, ruffling his hair.
he didnt say anything immediately after, but he turned to give you fat kiss, and i think that says a lot LMAO
and needless to say, you did his makeup many more times after this :3
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anyways, sorry for how short this is !! i hope i did your request justice because i loved writing it !!
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please write some conrad fics, the tag has been DRY
Is there a Aaron Dessner that has produced that is not heartbreaking? The Great war, Tolerate it, Right where you left me, You’re losing me, Would’ve could’ve should’ve. I have nothing against Jack, but when Aaron is involved, things…hit different.  
The acronym switching from love of my life to loss of my life *UGLY CRYING*
Warnings: heartbreak
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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When coming to Cousins for Belly and Jeremiah’s wedding, you knew it would be impossible to go through a whole weekend of wedding festivities without speaking to Conrad. You tried to avoid him, but he was always right there. In the kitchen talking with Laurel. In the living room with Jeremiah and Belly. In the backyard with Steven helping set up the chairs and tables under Taylor’s instructions. 
At least he didn’t come to the wedding with a girl. It would have hurt too much.
‘’I can’t believe our Belly is getting married,’’ you said as you all sat in the living room for the smallest bachelorette party. 
There was no male stripper dancing or crazy alcohol consumption like you see in movies. Just matching pajamas, a plastic ‘bride’ crown Anika got online, and sparkling mocktails. Laurel felt out of place among the younger girls, but it was her daughter’s bachelorette. She couldn’t not be there.
Taylor took a cupcake from the table, all decorated to perfection by you. ‘’I would have never guessed she would be the first of us to marry. We all thought it would be you and Con—’’ She stopped herself when she saw Belly looking at you, realizing that if she finished her sentence it would hurt you. 
A silence fell and a lump settled in your throat. You brought your drink to your lips, wishing there was alcohol in it. Drowning your sorrows in alcohol is not the solution, but it’s good at temporarily numbing the pain.
I thought that too.
Your parents bought their holiday house in Cousins where you were ten and you had known the Fishers and the Conklins since. Susannah had invited you over to play with her kids — to make friends. Although you were closer to Jeremiah and Belly in age, it was Conrad who got along with you the best. He taught you how to play Uno, came to get you when you swam too far at the beach and helped you clean your dress when stained it eating a blue popsicle. He was always nice to you. Patient and caring. As you got older, he was only looking at you. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything. He’s just always been yours. 
Until he wasn’t. 
You didn’t want to sour the ambiance or steal the attention from the bride-to-be, so you got up and excused yourself to the bathroom. You closed the door, feeling the quiet sanctuary of solitude envelop you. Memories of you and Conrad flooded your mind, each more painful than its predecessor. Nothing would ever compare to the pain this breakup felt. 
Leaning against the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, tears welling up and blurring your vision. You tried to make them go away by fanning your eyes, but they overflowed, carrying with them the weight of five years of heartache.
How could it still hurt after all this time?
With trembling hands, you reached for a tissue, dabbing at your eyes, but the tears kept coming. ‘’Please, stop.’’ 
In the morning, you woke up on a blow-up mattress in Belly’s room. Your eyes were sensitive from crying and red. You tried to cover it with eye-drops and makeup, but when you came down for breakfast and Belly pulled you in a tight hug, you knew you didn’t do a great job. 
Jeremiah eyed the two of you, raising an eyebrow and silently asking what was up, but Belly shook her head. 
The rest of the day went without any downpour of tears. A part of the afternoon was spent tanning under the sun and drinking lemonades, relishing in the last moments of tranquility before the evening's rehearsal dinner. The place was going to get filled with family members and other guests soon and it’ll get very crowded. 
Steven joined you in Belly’s bedroom as you were getting ready for dinner, still wet from being at the beach with the boys. He tried to get a kiss from Taylor, but she pushed him off as he was dripping water all over her makeup bag. Jeremiah laughed in the doorway, blowing a kiss to Belly before parting to his own bedroom to change. 
Although you weren’t the only single person in the room, you never felt more alone.  
At the dinner, you sat listening to the speeches about Belly and Jeremiah’s love. Without surprise, Steve made sure to embarrass the couple and Laurel was unable to hold back her tears when her turn came. Childhood stories and teenage anecdotes about their early moments of relationship made the guests laugh and smile. 
Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Adam inadvertently attributed a story to Belly and Jeremiah, when in fact it was about you and Conrad. The frown on Jeremiah’s forehead as his father continued to speak matched Belly, both of them not knowing what he was talking about. 
‘’Eh, Dad, Belly didn’t come to my prom…’’ Jeremiah whispered to his father. ‘’I went to hers and she was wearing a purple dress, not green.’’ 
Adam paused, his realization dawning slowly. ‘’Oh. You’re right. That was Conrad. I caught him and his girl making out outside the house when they came back. Susannah was out of her mind for allowing her to sleep over…’’  
The revelation hung in the air, accompanied by an uncomfortable silence. Your grip on the glass of wine tightened involuntarily, the pressure causing it to shatter in your hand. Shards of glass cut into your skin as crimson droplets mixed with the spilled wine. 
Beside you, Taylor gasped in concern, her eyes widening at the sight. ‘’Oh my god, are you—’’ 
Ignoring the sting of pain and Taylor’s voice, you excused yourself and hurried inside to tend to your injury. You grabbed some paper towels and pressed them over your cuts. 
Unbeknownst to you, Conrad followed after you. As you stood there, watching the white soak and turn red, you felt his presence behind you. ‘’Don’t do that.’’ His touch was gentle as he took your hand and removed the soiled paper towels, placing them on the counter. ‘’Never apply pressure to an injury that’s not clean of debris. You’ll push them further in,’’ he advised, the doctor in him speaking. ‘’Let me see.’’ 
‘’I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,’’ you insisted, attempting to brush off his concern. ‘’Go back to everyone else, it’s almost time for the best man’s speech.’’ 
But Conrad didn’t budge. ‘’Sit here. I need to check if there’s glass in it.’’ he urged, his tone firm yet caring. 
Knowing there was no way out of this, you sat on one of the kitchen stools and let Conrad check your injury. He turned on the kitchen tap and you hissed as the water hit your freshly cut skin, the cool liquid soothing the sharp ache. 
You sat there as Conrad tended to your wound in silence, his fingers gentle as he inspected your hand for any embedded glass fragments. You couldn't help but notice the warmth of his touch and the upgraded woodsy cologne, their familiarity causing your heart to flutter despite the pain. 
His focus was entirely on your hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. It reminded you of that one time you fell from your bike and he patched up your knee and elbow. Once he made sure there was no glass in it, he went to fetch an antiseptic and gauze from the bathroom.  
As he was wrapping it up, you thanked him. A simple ‘thanks’. 
‘’Be careful drinking wine, next time.’’ Conrad meant it as a light teasing, but you weren’t in a mood to laugh.
‘’Don’t say anything. Please,’’ you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. ‘’It hurts seeing you — it really hurts. So much that I didn’t want to come to the wedding, but I couldn’t miss Belly’s big day. I couldn’t do that to her. What type of friend would I be?’’ The weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you, the truth of them echoing in the silence of the room. ‘’But being here, watching her and Jeremiah getting married is killing me because that should have been us,’’ you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. ‘’This house is where we met; every corner holds tons of memories of us and it’s haunting me, torturing me since I got here.’’
‘’I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry—’’ 
‘’You’re sorry? No sorry will be enough,’’ you said. ‘’You told me I'm the love of your life about a million times. You said you would never leave. But you did. I loved you so much— You were it for me, Conrad. It was always you. But now you’re the loss of my life.’’ 
He said your name, but once again, you didn’t let him speak. 
You got down from the stool, the stinging pain in your hand still present. ‘’I should get back outside. Hopefully Laurel knows a way to get blood out of my dress.’’
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Glimpses: True Love's Embrace and True Love's Caress (Part two)
Thank you so so much to @ayselluna and @ladyspacey for requesting a part two. It means so much to me ❤️
Not proofread. Never proofread.
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He paces in front of your tent, creating a path in the dirt where his feet dragged. Shadowheart is inside, stitching what she can't heal with Lae’zel’s help. The two of them have gotten close, closer than he expected if their sneaking back from that private clearing was any indication…. He tries to distract himself with that, the gossip, the drama he could create if he told Gale but your voice floats his way and he’s back to thinking about you.
You sound a little hoarse, and you speak barely above a whisper when you tell the girls you’re okay. You lie when they ask what happens, your version of events thankfully matching his own, because he'd been too much of a coward to admit to Gale and Karlach that you were wearing the matching magic rings everyone all but made you swear not to wear, and that Astarion hadn’t noticed until he’d been so lost staring at your perfect breasts that he'd gotten stabbed.
But then, where to start if he told the truth? They’d ask why you would give him the ring, something he wasn't so sure about either. There were multiple possibilities of course, one being that you'd realised he was bloody useless in a fight and decided he was the biggest liability. In order to preserve potions and reviving scrolls, you had casted a warding bond over him. That was the answer he liked best. The one that allowed him to turn the pain, grief and absolute terror bubbling inside him like an unsupervised cauldron into anger.
It wasn’t the correct reason of course, and deep down -- and let’s be honest, not so deep down -- he knew it.
There had been a few nights of passion, a couple of stolen moments of heavy petting when searching for loot or simply when no one was around to look, but these seemed overshadowed by the nights he forwent his meditations in favour of spending your watch by your side, sometimes chatting, sometimes not -- There was never the expectation to entertain you, something which, at first, made him wildly uncomfortable but that he now cherished.
There were the mornings you snuck into his tent to do your makeup in front of the only unbroken mirror in camp. You always tried so hard not to “wake” him, but he’d usually pretend to awaken halfway through you applying powder on your eyes -- Placing the blame on his being up on you was easier to admit he woke up specifically to gaze at you applying creams, powders and lipsticks, but at this point, he figures you know anyway. There’s no need to be subtle with you, no need to steal anything, even moments, when you made it clear through repeated actions that whatever he wanted to take, you would give freely, even your own blood.
There was also the matter of loot. How you stole anything that wasn’t nailed down (and some things that were, in fact, nailed down. You’d stolen the nails too) in order to sell and barter your way towards food, armour, trinkets and Karlach’s ever growing collection of Teddy bears. But as soon as Astarion mentioned he liked something, even if it could be bartered for exactly what they needed at that moment, you would give it to him. He tries to stay quiet now after battles, half so he doesn’t arouse suspicion and half because the last time he spoke up, you gave him the trinket that would have bought you the first meal you’d eaten in nearly three days. And yet, shiny, pretty or even ridiculously ugly things he might like and get a kick out of, keep appearing in his tent -- it used to freak him out, how well you knew him, and it still does sometimes, especially when he admits to himself that this all was meant to be manipulative. He was meant to seduce you to gain favour and protection. Fucking you was his ticket to safety, to salvation. And it did get him that, he guesses, it just wasn’t the safety and salvation he bargained for.
The flaps of the tent part and Shadowheart pops her head out.
“She’s fine to see visitors,” she tells him, “She’s still weak but the noise of your pacing was driving us up the wall.”
“Pardon me for being worried,” he says, dramatically placing a hand over his dead heart in emphasis.
Shadowheart humms sceptically, “Worried she might die, or worried you won’t be able to feed?”
Well, he internally scoffs, at least he still has them fooled.
“Speaking of, you’re on a rat diet until she’s fully healed,” Shadowheart adds as he steps into the tent and she and Lae’zel step out.
He wasn’t even thinking of feeding, even with the blood gushing out of your wound, calling his name with every dwindling heartbeat, he’d fought a surprisingly easy fight against his more feral instincts and brought you back to camp. Nothing but worry for your safety and irrational fury had crossed his mind since your injury.
Irrational fury he was now failing to keep down.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” He whispers through gritted teeth, “You could have died, you absolute fool. Do you think me so incapable of protecting myself?!” He continues, ignoring the fact that you can hear the grief in his voice. The other two can’t, they haven’t spent enough time with him, but you know him inside out.
You stay quiet, much to his absolute fury.
“I am not a child you need to protect, I am perfectly capable of doing this myself,” he adds, grabbing her wrist in his hand, and sliding the ring off your finger. You open your mouth in protest, but he throws the most genuine glare he can muster your way, and you close your mouth again without speaking.
He pockets your ring, and takes off his own, placing both in the inside pocket of his jacket.
Astarion eventually gives you one of them, tucked inside a letter he gives you before the final battle, and that he asks that you keep on you till the end. It’s his own ring, obviously, and he prays it’ll keep you safe even if you're only carrying it.
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luvjunie · 11 months
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— besos
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pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader
a/n: this is my gif! it took so long to find this clip + make it into a gif so pls give credit if you use it lol
summary: your makeup leaves kiss imprints all over miles’ face and neck, which you quickly have to figure out how to hide from his mother. wc: 1,033
contains: fluff, teenage romance
word bank: “besos” - kisses, “enamorado” - lover boy, “mijo” - son, “dios mio” - my god
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“Hold still…”
Your soft lips pressed testimonies of your love upon the surface of Miles’ smooth skin, your giggles of excitement muffled as you kissed his temple, the apple of his cheek, the tip of his nose, the corner of his lips— anywhere you could easily reach, really.
Steady hands cradled the dip of your back to keep you in your straddled position on his lap, gentle fingers ghosting over the fold of your waistband and one of his eyes pinched closed in preparation for more of your frenzied affection.
“Jeez, you love me love me, huh?” he laughed, his answer presented to him in the way your kisses began to trail along his jaw, then started further down the column of his neck, his pulse gently thrumming against your gloss-tinted lips as the pace of his heart quickened.
His tongue quickly swiped at his chapped lips and he allowed his eyes to fall closed with a light sigh, enjoying himself for just a moment, until the distant sound of pots clinking brought him back to where he really was, in his room, with his mother just a few paces outside, resulting in a gentle warning pat against the curve of your hip.
“Alright, alright, chill.” he chuckled breathily, slowly pulling away from you to lean back on his hands and take you in, drinking in the image of how cute you looked on his lap like this.
He didn’t need a mirror to see what his face looked like, the slightly shocked expression on yours as you covered your laugh with a hand was enough for him to go off of.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him it wasn’t, to tell him that his face wasn’t lavished in the remnants of your brown lip gloss and liner— but you couldn’t. He was covered in them, prints of your lips garnished all over his handsome features. Your lips split apart and came back together like a fish out of water, so you simply settled for another stifled snicker and a head nod instead.
“You do know if my mom sees this on my face it’s our asses, right?” he reminded you, and as if on cue, you heard his mother’s voice project from outside, your spine standing straight, just like the hairs on the back of your neck.
“Mijo, food is ready, come eat!”
Stunned eyes locked onto Miles’ for a beat, just to see if they were as wide as yours, or if they held just as much panic— and they did. Without a word spoken you scrambled off his lap faster than you’d even gotten there in the first place, his mirroring of your movements almost causing him to tumble off the bed. The room was thrust into a discord of silenced chaos for a few panicked seconds, your body spinning in two aimless half-circles with disoriented, wafting hands; as if the ridiculous looking movement could actually assist your anxiety frazzled brain in coming up with a plan.
Miles ruffled his sheets, hands frantically splaying around to find anything that would be useful in this moment until a shirt came into your view— a hurried, whisper-shout of his name tearing from your throat to get his attention. You swiftly kicked it up from the floor with your foot, flinging it towards his face and watching as his hand shot out in front of him to catch it not even a second after you’d punted it.
The graphic t-shirt you’d found managed to scrub his face clean of the incriminating evidence, not that you had much time to check the success rate of that as you were rushed out of the room hastily, your boyfriend’s hands plastered against the lower-middle of your back to usher you out the room in large steps, your feet having to shuffle to keep up.
“Dios mio, mile—!“ his mother’s voice fell short when the two of you chaotically stumbled your way into the kitchen, your lips tucked into themselves as you stood at attention, hands politely clasped behind you, while Miles was off to the side, shoulder leaned against the adjacent wall, legs crossed and hands on his hips. Totally not suspicious.
“Oh,” she blinked, giving the two of you a quick once over. The first thing she noticed was her son’s unusual demeanor, his eyes big and brows raised high, an expression he only wore when he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be. But what really gave it away was the strange distance of a few feet wedged between the both of you. Just over an hour ago you guys had embraced one another in a long hug after he’d opened the door to let you in—right in front of her— and now, you were suddenly acting as if you were scared to even be near each other, like you were nervous to breathe the same air in her presence.
“Mm,” she turned back towards the stove to turn the rice over in the pot, allowing the both of you to exhale a trembled breath of relief, one you realized came prematurely merely milliseconds after it left your lungs. “I think you may have missed one, enamorado.” (lover boy)
Eyes almost blowing from your skull, you swallowed hard and reluctantly shifted your head up towards your boyfriend, who was frozen in place, your gaze dropping down to the slightly smeared gloss and lip liner against the skin of his neck; a painfully visible reminder of your previous tryst.
The knowing smirk that pulled at the corner of his mother’s lips went overlooked, just as Miles let his chin fall to his chest, his arm folding over his torso and his opposite hand slapping over his abashed expression, a defeated sigh sounding from behind it.
“I’ll help you with the plates, mama rio.” you voiced your offer quietly and cleared your throat as you went to slip in beside her, which she obliged to with a light chuckle.
“Sure, sweetie.”
“I’m-“ Miles sighed, scratching the back of his neck timorously and scanning the area for an escape before a tentative finger pointed into the dining room. “I’m gonna go over there.” He decided with a swooped nod, long legs carrying him from a scolding he knew he would have to come back to once you were gone.
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bi-writes · 2 months
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hmm im thinking about it being the first night simon stays over, and you show him how to take off his makeup. (18+)
he looks tired. you stand in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with the remnants from dinner. you don't want to spend time washing the full sink, you just want to sit next to him and soak up the warmth of him--you had missed him, and all you want to do is curl up next to him and nuzzle your face into his mask and finally get him into your bed, under your covers.
he's never slept over. he's always been adamant about that. always lacing up his boots after the movie, kissing you through the mask after a warm date, tucking you in when you get too tipsy and leaving water by the bedside table. he always goes, and even if he comes back in the morning, he always makes sure he does not stay over.
even when he fucked you the first time--he waited until you fell asleep, and then he left, and he came back in the morning with breakfast, but you knew he went home because he smelled fresh and he was wearing different clothes.
but tonight, he's staying. because you finally asked, and how could he say no to those pretty eyes? to that sweet little pout?
the distance, he was always trying to maintain it. but it was useless. you are not temporary. there is no end date. he can't keep letting you linger at arm's length.
you're soft and sweet, and your cunt is the same, and when he isn't thinking about being cock-deep in you, he's dreaming of your soft voice and your pretty smile and the tender way you kiss him and the way you hug. the all-encompassing, enveloping way you put him at ease. his rage builds, and one look at you, and it is gone.
as if it never mattered in the first place. as if it was never there at all.
so he agreed to stay. his bag sits heavy in your bedroom, clean clothes inside, and his toothbrush is in the same holder as yours in the bathroom. he lingered on it when he had put it there; two versus one. he never wants to see his toothbrush alone ever again.
he blinks awake when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. he's still wearing his army fatigues, black cargo pants and his windbreaker, the skull balaclava tucked under his long sleeve to hide any skin. his holsters are still around his thighs, but they are empty, and his vest is on the floor by the door, where his boots are. he feels your warmth even through the layers, and he leans towards it without thinking.
you kiss the side of his head, cupping under his chin gently.
"tired, simon?" you coo softly. "'s alright. we should get you in bed. been a long day."
"mm...olright," he murmurs, and you look up at him as he stands, and he towers over you, making you feel small, but safe. he's a bear, and he's yours, and he's staying.
you take his hand gently, and he follows you. you stand side-by-side in the bathroom, and you smile at him in the mirror as he unzips his windbreaker, revealing the hoodie underneath. his eyes meet yours, and he winks, and you smile wider, especially when his hand falls, smacking your ass nice and firm.
"wot, luv? somethin' funny, yeah?"
you shake your head and laugh, and then you reach for the headband in the drawer, slipping it over you as you prepare to wash your face. you slip a few products out onto the counter, and your mouth goes dry when simon grips his mask from the back of his head and pulls it completely off.
he is so handsome. his nose is crooked; he's broken it a few times, that's for sure. there's a scar deep across his face, jagged over his lips, and you've felt it when you've kissed him before, but it's jarring to see it. there's a few more across his other cheek, along his forehead, and you break out into nervous giggles as you meet his dark eyes. the eye-black around his eyes has shifted with the fabric of the mask and with sweat, but he still looks hot.
really hot.
you swallow hard and turn the sink on, wetting your hands. simon reaches to do the same, and you watch as he brings his wet hands up and starts to wash his face. immediately, the eye-black just smears, and he has to move more over the sink as he continues to wash.
"simon?"
"'s olright. just takes a few minutes for it to come off."
you smile, "here, i...let me help."
he turns the water off, wiping his face on his sleeve, and you giggle when he looks into the mirror and realizes all he's done is smear the black across his cheeks. he laughs with you, deep and gravelly, and you reach into the drawer and pull out two bracelets made of absorbent fabric.
"give me your hands," you say softly, and he does, and you slip the bracelets over his wrists. "keeps the water from running down your arms."
"fuckin' annoyin' when it does that," he grumbles, and you smile. you reach across the counter, opening a small jar.
"it's called double cleansing. you take this balm--" you get a dime-sized amount onto your finger and you put it into his hand, "--and then you rub it into your hands until it becomes...kinda oily. it'll take off all of...that--" you motion to the black streaks along his face.
"oi, are y'on the piss?" he laughs, "it'll take it oll'off?"
you giggle and nod, "yeah. try it."
he rubs his hands together, warming up the balm, and then he reaches up and massages it into his face. you watch, biting back more laughs, when he realizes how much easier the eye-black moves, coming off onto his hands. when he washes it off, it's nearly gone, and then you give him a dollop of face wash to help rinse the rest away. he dries his face on a towel, grinning in the mirror, and you hug his arm gently as he takes the bracelets off.
your eyes meet again in the mirror, and he smooths his hands down your waist, moving you in front of him, leaning over your and putting his face into your neck. he warms the skin there with soft kisses, and you laugh, buzzing with delight.
"you're so beautiful, luv," he growls in your ear, and you close your eyes.
"you're...y-you're beautiful, too, simon."
"yeah? come off it."
never. you'll never come off whatever high you're on now. you reach up and hold onto him, as much as you can grab, and you close your eyes as you kiss, his lips on yours, something hot in your chest and something soft in your insides.
you hold onto him tighter. you will not let go.
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darknight3904 · 5 months
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All Yours, Coryo
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴ��ꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ.
ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɴᴀɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀɢꜱ. ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ.
ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.
ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.
Coriolanus has never been the easiest person to understand. His mind was always racing and it kept you on your toes. Even now as he fretted over his appearance in the mirror you could tell his mind was thinking of a million things beyond whether or not his tie fit him correctly.
"For what it's worth, I think you look perfect." You say, sipping at your drink, you had been ready for nearly twenty minutes while Coriolanus was still figuring out what tie matched his pants best.
"I'm sure you do but this isn't just any party, I'm campaigning tonight and everything must be perfect." He says adjusting his hair even though it already sat perfectly styled atop his head.
It was Coriolanus' 23rd birthday and instead of celebrating like you usually did, you were both spending it at a party full of people who might help him reach the presidency by the beginning of next year. You approach him and wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.
"It will be." You assure, pressing a kiss to his exposed neck where his makeup artist did a wonderful job at covering the marks you had left behind last night.
"If all goes well tonight, you might just become the first lady of Panem one day." He smiles at you through the mirror
"Does that mean we're getting married?" You laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the idea of being with him forever
"Maybe..." Coriolanus says suddenly avoiding your eyes as his face reddens under your gaze.
You giggle at your boyfriend's flustered face, despite how grown up he had become in the past few years he was still the same boy you met at the academy all those years ago who just wanted his own bowl of fruit to gobble down.
"You definitely wanna marry me, Coryo!" You say almost as if you had discovered a secret of his.
"Well if you're not interested I can always find another." He jests, finally tying his tie.
"Oh please, I'm the only one who could ever tolerate you." You smile as he spins around to face you and rests his hands on your hips
"That you are, darling, that you are." He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips
Coriolanus is sure you are his favorite person in the entire world. From the way you'd laugh at his jokes to the way your nose whistled when you slept, he loved it all. Even now as the two of you had long abandoned your teenage years and stepped into adulthood, he knew he didn't want to lose you. His interactions with Lucy Gray and his time in District 12 had only solidified how he wanted you to stay close to him. He watches as you cross the room to slip into a pair of pretty high heels, he loved the way your dress sat on your body, it was perfectly fitted and he wondered what designer had been able to craft it so perfectly.
He looked back at the mirror and pretended to fiddle with his outfit again even though he knew he looked perfect. Instead, his eyes cast to the small table next to the mirror where a collection of photos sat you and him over the past five years. His favorite though was the one that was taken at your 17th birthday party. He remembered how warm it had been, and at one point someone had filled a bucket of water and tossed at you. He had expected you to cry out and push everyone out of your home but instead, he was met with your laughter and thus a water fight had begun. The picture of the two of you had been taken not even twenty minutes later, both of you were drenched but happy and you had linked your arms together right before the picture was taken. Sometimes he wished to go back to those moments, to relieve the last bits of his boyhood even though it meant going back to that decrepit building he once lived in and the taste of cabbage a constant on his tongue.
"Thinking about the past?" You ask from across the room.
"Thinking about how ugly we look here." He says picking up the photo
"Nonsense, we're adorable in that. If I remember correctly that was taken a few weeks before you tripped me in my room trying to slow dance and then you gave me the kiss of a lifetime." You smile
"I didn't trip you, you tripped me with your bad dancing." He laughed, returning the photo to its proper place among the others.
"Whatever you say, Coryo." You smiled, he could tell you didn't believe one word that came from his mouth about the tripping incident.
These parties were always a bit tedious for you. You enjoyed seeing Coriolanus happy among Capitol elites and you loved the lavish dresses you got to wear but sometimes it became overwhelming. The sheer amount of reporters that were always at these things is what drove you crazy. Coriolanus ate the attention up and answered all their questions about how he'd change Panem for the better but you were usually left answering questions about what your dress was made of or what your relationship was with Coriolanus. He often assured you that once he won the presidency he'd have more control over what was asked and that you'd never have to answer another dress question again. You hoped he won as soon as possible, it was tiring pretending this line of questioning was interesting.
"Is that real gold on your sleeves?"
"Is that ring on your finger an engagement ring?"
"Who did your hair for the evening?"
"Are you going to have the future president's children?"
"Did you seduce Coriolanus Snow for power in the Capitol?"
"How many toes do you have?"
God you wished they'd all shut up, or at least get better questions. Even just something as small as your involvement with your father's company would've been better than this. You ignored whatever trash was coming from their mouths and held on to Coriolanus' arm like he was going to disappear and end up back in District 12 again.
You remembered that day very well, after Coriolanus' tribute had won he had just disappeared despite promising to walk you home after the games had ended. When he didn't show up for graduation either, you found yourself outside Tigris and Grandma'am's new residence looking for answers. Tigris had told you what happened with him and that girl, Lucy Gray, how he cheated with rat poison and a handkerchief of his father's. At first, you had been distraught that he was sent off to District 12, stuck there for twenty years as some peacekeeping grunt, you'd be an ugly middle-aged woman by the time he got back! You had been in the pits of despair about your relationship with him but all it took was one terrifying meeting with Dr. Gaul to change your attitude. Once she revealed that Coriolanus would be back in the Capitol soon, and she was simply testing his dedication to the games, you relaxed. While Dr. Gaul might not have all her marbles you knew she wasn't lying, and sure enough, your Coriolanus returned to you in a matter of weeks.
However, he returned to you differently though. Sure, his head was shaved like all Peacekeepers and the curls you loved to play with were gone, but his attitude had also changed. Perhaps it was that Songbird he never wanted to speak of even now. You could never quite place what happened between Coriolanus and her, all that mattered to you was that he had assured you it wasn't romantic. Just shared ambitions to both win something. In her case her life and in his the Plinth Prize, not that that went well for her since she had disappeared shortly after she went home. You weren't quite sure what to make of Lucy Gray, the mysterious Songbird who had enchanted all of Panem just five years ago. You had only spoken to her once and it was just to compliment her singing during her interview. She hadn't exactly impressed you with her in that moment but she must have impressed Coriolanus at some point if he was willing to break rules for her.
Or perhaps his change was due to whatever training Peacekeepers went through and the death of Sejanus that had rocked the entire Capitol when he was revealed as a traitor, you knew Coriolanus had been close to him. Of course, despite all his changes and attitude adjustments, he never applied them to you. So, here you stayed by his side, happy that he still loved you the same. Soft touches and sweet words remained constant as the two of you aged and explored the advantages of adulthood. One of your favorite things about being 23 was moving out of your family's home and into the penthouse Coriolanus had chosen for the two of you. Waking up next to Coriolanus each day and seeing how he looked before his eyes fluttered open had to be your favorite part of the days you spent together. Brushing his hair from his eyes and counting the freckles that just barely brushed his pale skin was something you did daily until his pretty blue eyes met yours again. Once he did wake though, it was hard to get him to stay in bed with you. His peaceful state was always replaced with a man who was always working towards something, ambition was always fueling him.
You didn't mind his rough exterior that emerged each morning though, Coriolanus was cold and hard on everyone but you. Perhaps it was your shared childhood memories and teenage romance that prevented him from treating you coldly like he did poor Tigris but you weren't sure. One thing you did know was that the boy you grew up with was gone and a man stood in his place, brooding and cold to everyone but you.
"I'm going to get us a drink and then if you want we can dance." He whispered in your ear
"Can you get me that fizzy lemon drink they usually serve?" You ask
"Of course, I'll bring you some of those hors d'oeuvres you like with the cheese as well."
And then, he was gone from your side moving expertly through the crowd. That dazzling blonde hair accompanied by the broadest shoulders you've ever seen on a man disappeared among the throngs of people craning their necks to get a better look at the future president and his pretty face.
"A true marvel isn't he?" a voice to your right said
You turned to be met by none other than Lucky Flickerman, a drink in one hand and a young child's hand grasped in the other.
"I'm not interested in doing an interview, Lucky. If you want information on Coryo you can ask him yourself." You say, ready to walk away from the Capitol's favorite news anchor turned Hunger Games host.
"Coryo...what an interesting nickname, a bit childish for a man who might watch over us all soon. No matter, I would however absolutely love to report on you one day and maybe even that big business you're the heiress of, but I'm actually talking to you for this little one tonight." Lucky smiles motioning to the boy who you guessed was his son. "He was admiring that stunning dress of yours and I thought he might want to see it up close and personal."
For once you didn't mind being asked about your clothes as you crouched down to the little boy's height, he couldn't be more than 5 or 6.
"You have a good eye, would you like to feel the fabric? The designer I met with made it wonderfully soft." You smile, thinking of how Tigris had gushed over the blood-red fabric that would perfectly match Coriolanus' suit with you just weeks ago.
The boy reaches his hand out and brushes it along expensive fabric and a smile grows on his face.
"What's your name?" You ask
"Caesar." He says "I just turned 6 last week."
"Well, Caesar, six is a marvelous age to be, you can do all sorts of things at six. In fact, when I turned six I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time, I did however scrape my knees half a million times. I even still have a few scars on my knees would you like to see them?." You smile at him and he nods.
"Lucky Flickerman, I thought I told your producers that you weren't allowed to bother her with your idiotic questions the way the other reporters do. You clearly don't value your job, if you did you would have listened to my words." Coriolanus' voice suddenly fills your ears as you quickly right yourself, remembering how he once told you you'd have to start holding yourself with more decorum at these events. 'No more acting like a stupid teenager' had been his exact words one night when you were eating dinner together in your shared room.
"It's fine, his son wanted to say hello." You smile down at Caesar, take your lemon drink, and pop some of the food Coriolanus brought with him into your mouth. You sincerely hoped that you weren't about to witness Lucky being fired by the newest mastermind behind The Hunger Games and future the president.
From the corner of your eye, you see Coriolanus cast an intimidating look down at the boy and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs and force him to apologize to the poor child who was now cowering behind his father's stylish pant leg.
"I'll see you later, Lucky. We are going to go dancing now." Coriolanus says setting your barely sipped drink and food on a tray of a passing server before whisking you away.
"You're bad with children, Coryo." You say as he leads you towards the dance floor.
"And you're bad at reading people, darling." He says, ignoring the way you pouted at your loss of lemon drink and cheese-sprinkled food.
"What do you mean?" You ask, confused
"Lucky just wanted to get you to answer questions about me," Coriolanus says as he leads you in a dance, the both of you had gotten exceptionally better since your failure at 17 in your childhood bedroom.
"Oh." You say, a bit sad that he wasn't genuinely interested in you, just another dumb reporter who wanted news on Coriolanus' next move. It was amazing how Coriolanus always knew what others were thinking and how to approach a situation best.
"It's alright, just ignore him next time," Coriolanus says, gently squeezing your waist as a form of reassurance.
You nod and rest your head on his shoulder as you spin around the dance floor, suddenly wishing you were tangled up in bed with him rather than dancing in heels that were pinching your toes.
"Can I confess something to you?" Coriolanus whispers, his lips tickling your ear.
"Of course, always " You reply honestly
"I hate seeing you interacting with them." He says in a low voice.
"Them?" You ask
"These people. Seeing them ask you questions about your dress or hair, makes me want to toss them into the arena and watch one of Gaul's mutts rip them apart. I hate the way they look at you like you're a piece of meat attached to my side." He says, possessiveness lacing his tone.
"Oh...well I'm sure they don't all think that way." You try to reason, hoping that he wasn't right about this read on others.
"I doubt it. Look at that one by the fountain in the blue jacket." He says nodding to his right.
You glance over to the fountain and see an old man with a fluffy white beard and white hair to match. He seemed to be carefully watching you and Coriolanus spinning on the dancefloor but you weren't quite sure.
"I'm positive he's standing there imagining what it'd look like if this pretty dress was on the floor and you were on top of him," Coriolanus whispers, knowing it'll have you blushing in his arms.
"Coryo..." You say, trying to keep your composure as he presses his body to yours while you wonder if he's truly right and the old man across the pretty courtyard is truly ogling you.
"Too bad I'm the only one who will ever know what that looks like." He says a certain arrogance in his voice you can't quite place.
"Stop it." You scold, trying to hide the fact that your face is as red as your dress.
"Why? I can't wait to get back to our bedroom tonight and bring what's in my head to life." Coriolanus laughs, his voice was husky in your ears and making you weak in the knees.
"You're so embarrassing, Coryo." You say into his chest, avoiding that sharp gaze he had. How could someone act so well-composed but also have the dirty mind of a perverted teenage boy?
Coriolanus stops leading your dance and hooks a finger under your chin so you're looking up at him again. Sharp blue eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul looked at you, full of passion and want.
"My heart burns for you, darling, as it always has. You're mine, my perfect girl, all mine." He promises before swooping in to deliver what might qualify as the most monumental kiss in all of history.
A certain warmness spreads across your body as he kisses you in public for the first time. It's moments like this with your Coriolanus make your heart swell, these moments remind you that the little boy with the golden curls you met when you were just twelve lives on, just in a different way. You know the teenager you once ate cabbage soup and bread with sweet jam watches over you as you kiss his 23-year-old self, you know he's smiling at where the two of you are now. You're sure that the same boy who once spun you around your childhood bedroom to your favorite slow song is still here with you now, even if he rarely shows his face. Coriolanus Snow is always watching over you, every version of him envelopes you tonight as he shows the world who you are to him.
Your head spins and your lungs burn as you hear a few whoops and cheers from onlookers while others whisper about how Coriolanus' hands are wandering all over your body. You're sure the way he's kissing you is going to end up on some Capitol news reel tomorrow morning but you can't find the heart to care. Somewhere in his chest, you feel Coriolanus let out a deep groan when you run your hands through his hair ruining the way it was perfectly styled for the evening. You gasp when his teeth nip at your bottom lip and pull away, a gasp for air leaving your now surely swollen lips.
"All yours, Coryo." You assure him and lean in for another kiss.
You smile as he kisses back and couldn't care less about what the world around you thinks, you had your Coryo, the boy who you grew up with and ate cabbage together in his decrepit home, the same boy who danced with you despite his own lack of skill. You were with your Coriolanus, the man who was going to carry Panem into a new age of glory.
Part Three
Series Masterlist
Read the Teaser here
So I uh sorta ended up abandoning fluffy Coryo thoughts from part one and went with the reader's pov of him at 23, I hope that's okay with all of you. He still loves you though don't worry, it's just in his own Coryo way. His own magically manipulative Coryo way. I was initially going to make this part during the 10th Hunger Games but then I thought, wouldn't it be interesting to see how he interacts with reader post Lucy Gray considering how much she changes his ideals. To make things clear, every moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo has occurred and the reader is unaware of pretty much all of it here, obviously since she's so goo goo gah gah over him.
If you'd like more of my writings about Coryo and you, my fic Blank Space might be the read for you, it also has a part two that is available now You can read them both here. (Yes it's based on the Taylor Swift song)
Taglist:
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@lwqfhp
@belle643
@fantasylovestoryme
@alana4610
@threeinchminimum
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@fangirling-galore
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princessbrunette · 18 days
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rafe had been trying to pick a fight with bunny!reader all day due to his bad mood. however, due to her being a little ray of pink glittery sunshine — it just wasn’t happening.
first, the problem was the pink glittery dildo in your dresser that he found whilst snooping due to boredom, waiting for you to be done in the shower. he argues with himself whilst you sit at your vanity, giggling and happily doing your makeup.
“you tellin’ me you need that shit? ‘cus… ‘cus if that’s the case, don’t come begging for dick every thirty minutes when clearly you could be fixing your own problems.” he rants, huffing as you carefully brush mascara through your eyelashes.
“its not the same! pluuuus, i haven’t used that thing in ages. dont even know where you found it, daddy.” you’re clearly amused and it’s making things worse, locking eyes with your boyfriend through the mirror as he stands with his hands on his hips.
“think i’m stupid, right? if you weren’t still using this thing you would have thrown it in the trash.”
you spin on your stool, giving him a convincing pout. “i only use it when you go away on business trips with your dad, ‘cos i just miss you so much.”
he blinks, clearly not out of juice.
“you need to learn a little patience and self discipline, alright — you’ll appreciate this dick more without the fuckin’ silicone version.” he drawls and you giggle again at his word choice before bringing your manicured fingers to your lips to stop yourself.
“m’attached to it rafey. i like it. its pink and glittery and i’m not throwing it away.” you stand your ground, and his jaw ticks, looking around once more at the toy laying on your bed.
“cant do all the shit i do n’you know it… right? you call me when that toy fuckin’ chokes you out how you like it or spits in your damn asshole and shoves its thumb in there. yeah?” he mouths off before leaving the room, caring less and less about the argument as time goes on. now you really couldn’t fight him — he was playing dirty, and that made you horny.
his fighting spirit is given a new lease of life downstairs in the kitchen, when you accidentally blurt out the wrong name whilst speaking to him.
you’re giggling uncontrollably once more, grabbing at his shirt in the kitchen attempting to pull you closer as he holds his hands up, pretending to be totally disgusted.
“nah, who the fuck is that — huh? nate?”
“gosh, rafey — he’s from gossip girl! i was just thinkin’ about the show and your names sound similar! was an accident!” the fact you don’t sound sorry in the slightest is grinding his gears, not hugging you back when you manage to wrap your arms around him. “daddy hug me back.” you pout, and he peels you back with his hands on your shoulders.
“on thin fuckin’ ice today… alright?” he raises his eyebrows. you smile and nod, earrings jangling like there wasn’t a thought in your head.
it’s on the way to the country club that he’s really had enough, insisting on playing your music in the car, constantly winding down the volume to ask questions that didn’t need to be asked. your delicate hand reaches out for the volume toggle once more and he smacks it away.
“if you’re going to ask me if i’d still love you as a worm, or whatever bullshit you’ve conjured up — i suggest staying quiet, yeah? already told you that you’re pushing it today.”
he doesn’t have to look at you to know your smile is spreading.
“that wasn’t my question, but would you?”
the car pulls over to the side of the road with a swiftness, and he turns his body in his seat. you look unbothered as ever.
“why’d we stop?”
“you’re uh, you’re goin’ in the trunk. okay?” he rasps slowly, nodding his head like it would hypnotise you into agreeing. somehow, it worked — because your grin remains.
“okay!”
he marches over to your side and yanks you out before walking you round the back and opening the trunk. “i’m serious. get in.”
you do with no complaints — and by the time he is back in the drivers seat, he believes he’s taken it too far. however there’s no banging around, no crying, no screaming for him to let you out — so he drives away. the silence is rewarding, but he doesn’t feel great about it.
when he pulls up to the country club, he’s quick to walk around the backside of his truck and open up the trunk, relieved to see you happy as a clam — and lifts you out from under your arms. “that was fun! it was like you were a kidnapper, but also my boyfriend.” your eyes have a twinkle to them as he marches you towards his group of friends, gawking with questioning gazes.
“yeah you like that shit? ‘that turn you on?” he bites back sarcastically, but you nod anyway.
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thevillainswhore · 1 month
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The Ties That Bind Us
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Pairing: Ex-Husband!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 5.7k
Summary: Even though Bucky is your ex-husband, you still have to see him often because of your shared son. But the heated tension, the spark that is still very much alive after your divorce, finally reaches its peak when you come home from your date.
Warnings: Mentions of divorce, small amount of angst, mutual pining, jealousy, kissing, smut, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, p in v sex, derogatory names, spitting, happy ending.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne
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“You look so pretty, Mama!” You caught your son’s reflection in the mirror, his bright blue eyes wide and in awe as you finished the final touches up of your makeup. 
You were about to respond, but the words died on your tongue at the sight of Bucky’s large form rounding the corner into the bathroom. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over one another. “She absolutely does, cupcake.”
The intensity of his stare made you gulp silently, and you diverted your eyes back to your son.   
Bucky had been doing that a lot recently —looking at you differently, more longing in his eyes than usual. 
“Thank you, baby,” you said, ignoring Bucky in favour of showing your appreciation to your son. The knot in your stomach was wound too tight to try and unravel the conflict that ravaged in your mind. “You’re going to be good for your Dad tonight, aren’t you?” 
Your son did his best to try and hide the cheeky smirk on his lips — one that resembled his father a little too much. “Of course Mama, I be a good boy.” 
Unable to help the smile growing on your face, you brought him into your embrace, snuggling him tightly until he let out a loud squeal when you tickled his stomach. “I mean it, trouble. No staying up late and no ice cream before bed.” 
Instantly, his puppy eyes fell to his father, an innocent pout on his lips. “But Dadda—“ 
“Sorry kid,” Bucky held strong. Glancing to you before looking back to his son, “Mama’s rules.” 
“Oh, shucks,” your son sighed as you laughed. 
From the outside looking in, the three of you seemed like a perfect family. Picturesque and ideal — white picket fences enclosing a home that was full of love and laughter, wholesome family dinners and celebrations for each loved one. 
But things were never as simple as you wished. 
The sobering thought made your laughter die in your throat, and you checked the time on your lit up phone screen. It was almost time for your date and you were wary of being late. “Okay, cupcake. I’ve gotta get moving so I can make it on time.” 
“Aw,” your son whined, and you ruffled his hair as you made your way out of the bathroom. The air was knocked out of your lungs as you squeezed by Bucky, the scent of his aftershave he had worn since you first met him filled your nose and overtook your senses. 
You barely suppressed a moan, a sinful combination that your mind begged you to inhale one more time, while another internal voice scolded you. The lingering touch of his fingers ghosting over your waist made it even harder to listen to sense. 
Once you reached the hallway, you shook yourself and grabbed your bag from its hook by the door.  The coat over your arm was warm and comfortable as you slipped it over your shoulders. 
The telltale patter of feet over the hardwood floor bounced towards you, along with another set of heavier ones not too far behind. “Where you going this time, mama?” cupcake asked. 
Smiling, you leaned down and tucked a stray lock of deep brown hair behind his ear. “Just for dinner, baby. I won’t be out long and I promise I’ll be back to make you pancakes in the morning, okay, sweetie?” 
He nodded before stepping closer and tiptoeing up to whisper in your ear. “Make sure he treat you good because you deserve whole world.” 
Tears sprung to your eyes, clinging on to your waterline. You blinked them away quickly before your son could notice. 
Though, Bucky did. 
You kissed his forehead, and leaned back to look into his eyes. “You got it, cupcake.” 
Stepping forward, Bucky spoke up. “Why don’t you say goodbye to Mama and go get a movie set up, huh pal? I’ll be with you soon.” 
Before your son left, he hugged you. “Bye Mama, I loves you.” 
You smiled as he ran off. “I love you too, baby — and remember to be good!”
Only Bucky and you were left by the door, your blanket of comfortability was gone and you felt his eyes that held too many memories burning through you. 
“You really do look beautiful,” he vowed. 
Fuck, you internally cursed.
You tried not to look into his eyes while you fumbled with your dress. “Thank you, Bucky.” You quickly shifted the conversation. “If he doesn’t settle then text me, okay? My phone will be on loud and I’ll answer straight away—“ 
“As much as I— We would like you home, I’m sure we’ll survive without you for a couple of hours,” Bucky said, recovering from his hiccup smoothly. 
Your gazes met — you had always gotten lost in his eyes and even all these years later nothing had changed. 
Snapping out of your reverie, you shook your head and unlocked the door. “I’ll um— I’ll be back later.” 
Before you could leave, Bucky caught your hand. “Have fun, Doll.” 
And with all the strength you had, you delicately took your hand out of his, taking note of the tan line of where his wedding ring used to sit. “Bye, James.” 
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The date went as expected. 
Your company for the night wasn’t a problem at all. In fact, this was the third date you had both been on together. However, the spark you had so badly tried to ignite through bland conversations and one already ringed out similar interest fell short. 
Every date you had been on since your divorce with Bucky seemed to lack a certain something for you. Although in recent light, you had come to terms with the fact you that no one’s eyes had the same shade of blue you were familiar with. Or made your heart jump in your chest from excited nerves years after your first meeting. 
Simply, you hated the fact you compared every single man to Bucky. 
With a sigh, you unlocked your door, careful to make as little noise as possible as you walked into your home. It was quiet, almost silent, apart from those damned footsteps that eased the weight off your chest and yet caused goosebumps to cascade down the bare skin of your arms.  
Bucky rounded the corner from your kitchen to the open plan living room, a glass of whiskey in his hand in the orange hue of the darkness, provided by a single lit lamp. 
“Hey,” he greeted you, the expression on his face imperceptible. “How was your date?” 
You cleared your throat, struggling to keep your composure from the sight of his tight black T-shirt and denim jeans that deliciously hugged his thighs. “Um yeah— it was— it was okay.” 
Bucky raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Just okay?” He laughed. “Come on, give me more than that.”
You sighed in defeat. “I told him it was best if we didn’t see each other anymore.” 
Unfortunately, there was only so much of a facade you could fake until it became noticeable to your date. It was an amicable decision with no hard feelings. But, it didn’t help to settle the confusing thoughts in your head. 
Bucky took a swig of his drink, placing it on the hallway side table before he began slowly pacing towards you. 
You couldn’t discern the look in his eyes, the way they feasted on your thighs or your waist. Backing up against the door until you physically couldn’t break free from the heat of his gaze, you could only watch as Bucky drew closer, right until you were a breath apart. 
He brought an arm up, over the top of your head to lean against the door. “Any reason why?” he asked, a husk to his tone that granted you no favours. 
A sudden pulse shot through your nerves, the ache between your thighs intense. It took everything in you to not rub them together. He would notice that you were sure of. 
Desperate to escape what was sure to be a dangerous situation, you quickly slid out of his invisible hold and hastily made your way to the kitchen to pour your own drink. Bucky joined you only seconds later. 
“How was cupcake?” you asked instead, attempting to switch the conversation to a safe topic. “I hope he didn’t cause you too much trouble.” 
“He was good as gold,” he instantly replied, staring you down. A beat later, “He whined about the ice cream situation, but I promised I’d take him out for it tomorrow and he was out like a light  — we had fun.” 
You slightly faltered as you poured the whiskey into a second glass. You didn’t miss his small innuendo of spending more time together.  
“Thanks for looking after him tonight. I know it was pretty useless anyway, but—“ 
Bucky trapped you against the counter as he placed his hand over yours, his deep baritone rumbling in your ears. “Don’t thank me for looking after my own son, you know I’d do it all the time if I could.” He took a deep breath. “If you would let me.” 
No. You couldn’t do this. 
You immediately dropped the bottle of whiskey onto the kitchen countertop, ripping yourself away from his touch to walk away. 
Bucky reached out as he followed you. “Babydoll—“ 
“Don’t fucking call me that,” you scolded, fury in your voice. 
Bucky however, wasn’t deterred. “Doll.”
“No—“
“Will you just—“ he caught you with a firm grip and spun you around to face him. “Will you stop running away from me.” 
The two of you were out of breath from sudden adrenaline, harshly breathing into each other's mouths. The look in Bucky’s eyes was wild, untamed — tortured.
“Tell me you’ve never thought about it — us getting back together.” He gripped onto your arms, his eyes flicking between yours. “Tell me I’m delusional and I’ll walk out that door right now and we’ll never speak of this again.” 
The ache in his voice broke your heart as much as the day you signed the divorce papers. 
“Bucky—“ 
“Please.” He cupped your face with his hands, glancing between your eyes and your lips while his thumb slowly rubbed over them. “I’m a desperate man, baby. I’m desperate for you.” 
You gulped, emotion bubbling over into your voice. “We broke up, Bucky. We’re divorced.” 
He laughed wetly, but there was no humour in his tone. “And that means we can’t try again?” 
The reasons for your separation seemed to blur under his stare. All the ways you weren’t good for each other leaving your mind and only making room for the good. 
“Where the hell is this coming from, Bucky?” You deflected once again. 
Your hands shook as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I can’t stand the thought of seeing you go out with another man again,” he whispered, painfully. “It’s killing me, Babydoll. It should be me.” 
Tears rushed over your cheeks, you were too overwhelmed to hold them back any longer. You sniffled as you glanced down the hall where you son currently lied fast asleep and obvlious. “I can’t hurt our son, Bucky — I can’t.” 
He smiled sadly at you, the crinkle in his eyes ever present but they only made you swoon for him even more. “There’s a reason all those dates don’t ever work out.” 
You couldn’t hear it, couldn’t take what he was trying to say. “Stop it.” 
“I know you’ve been holding back as much as I have.” 
He was pushing you, like he always did and as much as you wanted to curse him, it was working. “Please don’t make me—“
The point of no return came in the form of your most hidden secret spilling from Bucky’s lips. “You still love me, Babydoll.”
Ice ran through your veins, hearing those words out loud that you hadn’t dared let yourself believe. Your mouth gaped open, unable to find the words to deny his accusations until your tether broke. 
“Fine! I’m ruined for anyone else!” you shouted, frustrated and scared — a wild animal trapped in a corner. “You’ve ruined me — is that what you want to hear?”
His plump lips, soft and pink curled up. “It’s exactly what I want to hear.” 
Leaping forward, Bucky crashed his lips against yours. 
He was feverish as you both collided into each other. His hands, unrelenting yet gentle mapped out each and every slope of your body as you stood in the living room, feeling each other for the first time in years. 
“Fuck,” he groaned between kisses. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, baby.” 
Your head spun, dizzy with want. You hadn’t been touched in so long by anyone, never mind your ex-husband and your heart pounded erratically with nerves, excitement and longing. 
Slipping his tongue into your mouth, Bucky kissed you like he was starved, as though you were his only salvation. He ran his fingers through your hair, tugging it harshly to pull you closer to him even though there was no longer any distance between the two of you. 
“You’ve got no idea how bad I need you,” he whined into your mouth. “Need to fuckin’— I just need you.” 
Without you realising, Bucky had pushed you up against the nearest wall and even through denim jeans you could feel the hard shape of his cock while he unabashedly grinded against you. 
You broke for air, gasping as oxygen rushed to your lungs. “You have me, Bucky.” He trailed sloppy kisses down your neck as you panted, desperate to stain your skin with any trace of him. “You can have anything you want.” 
He growled, a sound that caused a gush of wetness to soak your panties. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to me, sweetheart.” 
Ripping away from you, he grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the laundry room on the other side of your house. You struggled to keep up with his fast strides in your heels, but you just about managed as he shoved you through the door and locked it behind him. 
His back was turned to you for a while and you stood nervously fidgeting, waiting for him to face you. His back rose and fell with breathless heaves, as though he was holding back — a feral beast ready to pounce. 
“Babydoll,” he said suddenly, rough and graveled. “I need to know you want this before I fuck the shit out of you.” 
Holy fuck, the mouth on this man. Your mouth grew dry while you struggled to think clearly in his aura. “I— I do—“ you stuttered, lamely.
He slowly turned around, a wolfish gleam in his eyes with adrenaline surging through his veins. He was tense as he took a deep breath. “Say it like you mean it.” 
When you stayed quiet, too hazy to speak, Bucky stalked towards you, lifting your chin up to look him directly in his eyes. “Say. It.”
Closing your eyes, you cleared your mind and swallowed before whispering, “I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember my name, Bucky.” 
He smirked, the kind you knew all too well — deadly. “Atta’ girl.” 
You sqeauled as he suddenly hiked you up into his arms, hands under your thighs so he could place you on top of the washing machine. Laundry detergents and other products you didn’t care to take note of fell from the shelves around you as he pounced on you once again, devouring you whole with his sinful lips. 
“Do you know how much I’ve had to restrain myself, Doll — Mm?” he pressed, covering every inch of bare skin you had to offer with his kisses. “How fuckin’ hard it’s been to not drag you back in the house and take you right then while you get dressed up for someone else?” 
You did. Because you understood more than anyone the pain of having to force yourself away from Bucky when all you had ever wanted was him. 
He unbuckled his belt, the telltale sound of the leather snapping against his hands and the jingle of metal sent bolts of electricity straight to your cunt.  
Your mind couldn’t keep up, your vision blurry with the sudden turn of events. All you knew was that you needed Bucky. 
“Hurry, baby. Please,” you whined. 
Bucky groaned with delight, his eyes rolling to the back of his head while he bit his swollen bottom lip. “Oh, how I’ve missed you begging for me, pretty mama.” 
Rushing to take off his belt, he slid the material through the loops of his jeans and threw it on the floor, not long after hurrying to unzip his fly and shuffle his pants down along with his underwear.
The tip of his cock peaked out of his black briefs and instantly you let out a high pitched moan, even shocking Bucky enough to look back up at you drooling over him. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, slightly condescending. “Don’t you worry, Daddy’s gonna take care of you.” 
Bucky revealed the entirety of his cock, the length just as long as you remembered and the girth as thick as you had imagined in your nights alone with your toys that couldn’t compare. 
The slight curve that you could feel the ghost of pleasure from to this day caused you to bite your lip and squirm in your place. 
Without waiting for Bucky, you began shifting the bottom of your dress up your thighs, too impatient to wait for him to undress you. It gave you immense satisfaction when he followed the material, slowly revealing more of your skin. His mouth gaped open while he fell to his knees, the thud that sounded surely must have hurt, but there was no other expression on his face than greed. 
You stopped your dress just before Bucky could peak at your red panties and you almost laughed when his head shot up, aghast that you had interrupted the show. 
The power you held, you smirked. “You want more, Daddy?” 
Bucky dropped his head onto your thighs, his breath travelling up to your covered mound — your eyes fluttered, though you kept your breathing steady to not seem so desperate. 
Stroking your fingers through his fluffy hair, you murmured low, “Does it hurt to know my pussy is right here and you can’t have it?” 
You felt his muscles quickly lock up, his head snapping up to you with a speed that was frightening and exhilarating all at once. The blue of his irises darkened, dilating as he chuckled, “You’re very much mistaken, sweetheart. Because this pussy right here,” he shoved your dress up, spread your legs and breathed into you. “She’s mine, baby girl. And you’ve kept her from me long enough.” 
A chilled blast of air hit you as Bucky tore your panties from your waist and held them up. “You wore these slutty panties for that fucker, huh?” 
You gasped in shock when he brought them to his nose and inhaled the gusset deeply. He grunted as he closed his eyes in bliss. “Cos’ I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s got you this soaked.” 
Your keens amused him greatly. “Bucky—“ 
“That’s right, mama,” he laughed with pride. “My name sounds so damn heavenly coming from your lips.” 
Bucky pocketed your underwear, not caring to be discreet and his thumbs came up to your cunt to spread you open to his eager eyes. “My god, baby,” he gasped in awe. Your hole clenched at the vulgar display. “You’re just as tight as the last time I had you.” 
He tested a finger over your folds, running it through the embarrassing amount of slick that coated you. 
“No one,” you breathed, shaking your head while willing your scrambled thoughts to formulate into words. “There’s been— there hasn’t—“ 
Bucky looked up at you from his knelt position, a small slither of vulnerability shining through his lust-hooded eyes. “Just me?” 
You gulped and nodded, staring into his wide blues with honesty. “Just you.”
A moment passed between you. The charged air filtered down to that spark that had always been buried through the heartbreak you both endured in your divorce. 
Bucky swallowed before placing a single kiss to the inside of your knee. “Then let me make up for that.” 
You leaned your head back against the shelf behind you as his lips traveled up the meat of your thighs, yelping each time he gently bit you. 
He murmured obscenities you could barely respond to as he edged closer to your pussy. You offered yourself freely, on a platter, as your legs opened even wider for him — the only man who ever truly owned you. 
His lips whispered over your mound, a hint for what was about to come. “I’ve been waiting to taste you again for years.” 
You moaned aloud, unhinged and unapologetic while Bucky licked a fat stripe up your cunt. Your nerves were alight with pure fire and you instantly grabbed onto the back of his head to push him further into you. 
You didn’t care if the action was needy — one single touch of him and you were a goner once again. 
He feasted on you, not coming up for air as he switched between sucking your clit and slurping your juices. “Oh my god— Bucky, baby you gotta— holy fuck.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
Bucky wrapped his thick arms around your thighs and dragged you closer to him — all too happy to suffocate between your legs. “Sweet as a fuckin’ apple pie,” he murmured into you, the vibrations only deepening your pleasure. 
Looking down at him, his eyes were homed in on you, watching your every expression. They were blown out, wild while strands of his hair stuck out in every direction. 
Pulling away slightly, his heavy pants blew over your throbbing clit. “Daddy makin’ you feel good, Babydoll?” 
You hardly had time to reply as he immediately shoved his tongue into your clenching hole and fucked you with it. 
“Bucky!” you screamed to the ceiling. However, a harsh slap delivered to your thigh snapped you back to sense. 
“You know that’s not what you call me,” he barked. 
Whining, you corrected yourself. “Daddy, please!” 
You felt his smirk plastered over your pussy as he hummed into you, “There’s my good girl.” 
Your legs began to shake as you felt your climax creep to the surface and Bucky only doubled down with his sinful tongue that you somehow had forgotten he was way too talented with. 
“I’m close,” you whispered as your vision began to blur. “So close — please, please don’t stop.” 
Bucky continued his ministrations while your pussy fluttered around his tongue. Your release was within reaching distance and you gripped the washing machine, ready to let go until suddenly his presence was gone. 
You almost fell forward before you caught yourself with your remaining strength. The pent up tension that was wound in your stomach hadn’t loosened and it took you a second to realise you hadn’t cum. 
“W—what?” you mumbled shakily as you blinked your eyes open. Bucky stood there, his cock pulsing and viciously purple, with a smirk on his face, wiping his slick covered mouth with his arm. It disorientated you. 
“I haven’t—“ you swallowed the dryness of your mouth. “You didn’t make me—“ 
Bucky’s cock bobbed as he closed the distance between you, dizzying you even further with a passionate kiss. “No I didn’t, baby.” 
You whimpered in despair, the ache worsening. “But Daddy—“
“Nu-uh,” he breathed while lining his cock against your hole. “You’re only gonna fuckin’ cum when I say you can.”
Recklessly, Bucky pushed his full length into your pussy. You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into him as the sheer size of his thick cock winded you enough to wail out. 
“Shit,” he cursed, a strain in his voice as he firmly gripped your hips. “Fuckin’ hell— Babydoll, how the fuck are you still so tight.” 
Impatiently, you fidgeted. Whether it was to escape how full he made you or try and force him deeper into your cunt you weren’t sure. All of it was too overwhelming to process.
“I can’t,” you shook your head, tears building over your glassy eyes. “You’re too big— Bucky, I can’t—“ 
“Yes you can,” he declared with conviction while he lifted your gaze to him. “You can take it, sweetheart.” 
Slowly, Bucky began to ease out of your cunt. His cock was coated with your wetness and he moaned deeply at the sight. He grinded back into you, his curved tip hitting every sensitive spot. 
“There we go,” he brushed your hair back and kissed your forehead, praising you. “Taking my cock so good, Babydoll. Just like always.” 
His touch was familiar, yet new — all consuming and claiming — and you melted into him, smothering his neck with a litany of kisses as he continued to gently thrust his cock into you. 
“M—Missed you,” you confessed, drunk from lust and emotion. “Missed you so much, Bucky.” 
The motion of his hips sped up as he began pounding into you with more force. “Yeah? You missed being a sweet little wife for me?” He taunted with an evil grin. “You loved being Daddy’s little slut, didn’t you?” 
“Mhm— Always your slut, Daddy!” You sobbed into his skin. 
His pace turned unrelenting, fierce after too much lost time. He fucked you as though he would be left out to dry after he was done. 
Grabbing your cheeks, he leaned his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, Babydoll,” he grunted. “Don’t care who’s fuckin’ taking you on dates. You belong to me.” 
Nodding your head, you fell mute, mouth gaped wide as you felt the knot begin to build up in your stomach once more. 
Bucky looked down to watch his dick glisten with your slick. The obscene sounds created from the amount of your juices leaking out only caused his cock to throb. Your cunt squelched with each thrust he made. But it wasn’t enough for him. 
Gathering saliva in his mouth, Bucky spat to where the two of you connected, groaning as it clung to your pussy and stringed out with his motions. 
Your squeals of pleasure began to get louder as the coil tightened, “I’m gonna—“ 
Before you could rush the words out, Bucky pleaded, “Tell me you love me.” 
Your eyes snapped up to his, more alert now. He didn’t falter, only fucked you with more abandon. 
“Tell me you love me,” he repeated once more, a demand this time.
“Bucky, I—“ 
“I know you do, Doll.” His hips started to twitch, his telltale sign that he was also close to cumming. However, you had an inclination that he wouldn’t let himself go until you gave him what you wanted. “I know you remember how good it used to be. Let me come home and I’ll fuck you this good whenever you want.” 
You gurgled around his fingers as he suddenly shoved them into your mouth, collecting the drool gathered on your tongue to bring them down to your clit. He didn’t ease them against you, instead rubbing tight circles rapidly, bringing you closer to the edge faster. 
It was impossible to escape his dark eyes or the fierce hold of his hand at the back of your neck. “Feels so fucking good, Daddy!” you blurted.
“I know, mama,” he assured as he drove his cock into you even harder. “Your cunt feels like heaven.” 
“I wanna cum,” you cried. “I need to cum.” 
“You know what you’ve gotta do then, don’t you, Babydoll?” 
You squeezed your eyes closed. The pleasure started to blend into a mix of pain and you were only slightly ashamed that it only turned you on more. “I—“ 
“Come on, baby. Give me what I want.” A few more punishing thrusts and you were treading the line of your impending orgasm. Your thighs shook violently and beads of sweat dripped down your chest. But when Bucky grounded out his next words, you fell apart. “Be a good wife for Daddy and tell me the truth.” 
You couldn’t hold back any longer, the balance of your orgasm tipping over along with the truth you tried to withhold. “I love you, Bucky!” 
Instantly, you felt the pulse of Bucky’s cock, a warm shoot of his load filling your cunt while you silently screamed and shook with the intensity of your climax. 
Everything fell deaf to your ears as you fought to catch your breath, slumping against Bucky. His heavy breaths blew your stray hairs sticking out from the sweat gathered on your head while his hips continued to slowly pump into you from the aftershocks of his own orgasm. 
You were brought back to the present with the gentle touch of his lips pressing against your cheeks, kissing your skin delicately. “Hey there, Babydoll.” 
While you would have normally been nervous, the energy that he had drained you of allowed your inhibitions and walls to crumble, leaving you to smile drunkenly at him. “Hi,” you whispered. 
Bucky checked you over, darting his eyes over your face. “You feeling okay?” 
“Mhm,” you mumbled, bringing your thumb up to swipe over his stubble you had always been fond of. “Freshly fucked and never better.” 
The corner of his lips curved up, a small mirth of laughter escaping him. He licked his lips and you detected a hint of nerves that crossed over his features. “I um— I’m sorry if I—“ 
You placed your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him. “You didn’t go too rough.” Slowly, you brought your finger down, hooking it into the collar of his shirt. “I enjoyed myself.” 
“Good.” He brought one of your hands up to his mouth to kiss the palm of your hand. “Good.” 
The two of you barely noticed his length still deep in you. All that you cared for was the weight suddenly released from your chest. 
“Did you mean it?” Bucky asked, cutting through the peaceful silence. He was defenseless, all guards down with a shimmer of hope twinkling in his ocean eyes. 
You knew exactly what he was referring to and you inhaled deeply before you replied, “I did.” 
He swallowed thickly, his emotion clear though his bright eyes. “I love you too — so fuckin’ much.” He nuzzled into your neck as your hand held him close to you. “I’ve missed you.” 
A lump gathered in your throat once more. Breathing in Bucky’s scent freely, without guilt this time, you sunk into his embrace even further. 
“Can I come home?” he whispered into your skin, a desperate plea. “I’ll do whatever you want — I’ll go to counseling with you, we can take things slow. I just need you back, Babydoll.” 
The answer was simple. You knew in your heart there was no one else for you, no one better. No matter your differences, everything would always lead back to Bucky and you were willing to give the two of you a second chance. 
“Okay,” you answered softly. 
His head shot up, eyes wide and red from the tears you felt gathering on your neck. “Okay?” he repeated hopefully. 
You smiled, kissing him gently on the lips before you muttered, “Come back home, baby.”
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The pan sizzled on the stove as you cooked the last pancake, a stack already piled high on the counter next to you for breakfast. 
Music played softly on the radio and you swayed your hips side to side, covered by a long T-shirt, while you hummed to yourself. 
You were interrupted from your task when a pair of thick arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you from behind tightly. “Yknow, I could have had my breakfast in bed,” Bucky grumbled into your ear, his deep morning voice causing your eyes to slightly flutter. 
You huffed a laugh before you mumbled, “I bet you could, greedy.” 
The bristles of his trimmed beard tickled your skin as he playfully nibbled your neck. “Can’t exactly blame a man when his woman tastes so sweet, Babydoll.” 
Your head started to feel heavy as you gave into his kisses, leaning back into his hold and opening yourself up for him. 
“There’s a good girl,” Bucky praised you. “You just let Daddy—“
Peaking an eye open, you watched as his hand crept forward, about to pinch a pancake from the pile. He yelped as you swatted his hand away, a pout on his lips while you grinned. 
“Nice try, Daddy,” you teased, smugly. 
Before Bucky could retort back, a sluggish set of small footsteps sounded over the floorboards and you whipped around to find your son, still sleepy, making his way to the dining table. 
“Morning, cupcake!” you greeted him cheerfully. 
With difficulty, he climbed his way onto one of the chairs, huffing with the effort and sinking down once comfortable. He looked towards you, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Mornin’, mama—“ 
Frowning, your son looked towards Bucky, finally noticing him too. “Dadda?” he asked, confused. 
“Hey, pal.” Bucky treaded, carefully. 
Your son’s gaze fell to the lack of distance between you and Bucky, his hand still lingering on your waist. Keeping your composure, you waited nervously for his reaction. 
“He treat you good, mama?” he asked all so innocently with a hint of fierceness in his bright blue eyes. 
You watched with bated breath as Bucky stepped towards him, leaning over the table with his palm up to your son. “I’m gonna take good care of mama, “ he promised with sincerity. 
Your son deliberated for a moment before nodding his head and reached out to hold his Dad’s hand. “Okay, can I have pancakes now?” 
You sighed a breath of relief. “Of course, baby.” 
It was silent for a moment, in your small kitchen while you plated up breakfast for your family. Bucky and you shared an intimate smile until your son spoke up once again. “Just don’t forget about the ice cream you promised me.” 
Laughter filled the entirety of the kitchen, a home once again bathed in love — your perfect little family. 
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rynbutt · 21 days
Text
pierced. pt. 3 | spencer reid.
Spencer wanted this date to go perfectly, he wanted to treat you like a princess and maybe even land a second date... but why is Hotch calling?
pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4
cw: fem!reader, kissing, slight angst, fluffy
a/n: kicking my feet fr
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You started getting ready two hours earlier than you normally would.
Sure, you had been on dates before, but you could confidently say you’d never been this excited to go on a date before. You’d been on the odd blind date that your friend from back home set up, but they usually went as well as you’d expect a date with a misogynistic frat boy with mommy issues to go… not great. After Spencer had walked you home, and called to ask you out for dinner, you were utterly giddy. 
You barely got any sleep that night, your mind and heart racing a mile a minute thinking about the kiss you shared outside your apartment building. You spent the most of the afternoon picking out an outfit, staring at your body in the mirror while you turned side on, front on, side on again to make sure your ass looked good (it did).
You asked Spencer to tell you where he was taking you, because you really didn’t want to be underdressed or overdressed. He insisted it was nothing fancy but a man’s idea of fancy and a woman’s idea of fancy are very different things.
You picked something that felt like the best of both worlds, a semi-formal mini dress and dressed down with your favourite knitted cardigan. You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, styling your hair, picking jewellery and shoes and doing your makeup. 
You had been excited the whole day but as 6pm got closer and closer, you started to get nervous. It had been a while since you’d gone on a date with someone you felt you really liked and wanted to impress, it was a strange feeling.
Spencer knocked on your door at exactly 6pm. You were in the middle of pulling applying your lipgloss when he knocked. You cursed quietly to yourself, thinking you had way more time than you actually did. You’d hoped he’d be at least a little bit late. He was a genius though, punctuality was kind of his thing. 
You almost tripped over your shoes running to the front door, a cleaning task you would tackle when you got home. You pulled the door open with a smile beaming across your face. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Spencer’s precious face peeking over a bouquet of pink tulips.
“Hi,” he said softly with a tight lipped smile. He held the tulips out toward you, “for you.”
“Spencer…” you pouted at the gesture, taking the tulips from his grasp. “They’re so beautiful.”
“Garcia said flowers would make a good impression,” he lied, he actually read a considerable amount of articles and first date guides all day at work. But Garcia did help him pick the flowers.
“Well, she was right. Tulips are my favourite,” you grinned, turning back into your apartment to find and fill a vase. “Come in, I won’t be a minute, I just need to put my shoes on and grab my purse.”
Spencer awkwardly stepped into your apartment, glancing around at the now fully decorated space, a far cry from what it looked like just 3 weeks ago. You quickly went to put your shoes on and put some money, your lipgloss and perfume in your purse. You closed the door to your bedroom and paused, staring at Spencer as he squatted down and rubbed Tofu’s belly.
“Made a new friend?” You asked.
Spencer smiled with utter delight, “She’s so fluffy.”
You giggled at Spencer’s response, grabbing the keys for your apartment off the kitchen counter. Spencer dusted the cat fur off his pants before spinning on his heel to face you, “ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you smiled. You stepped closer until you were just in front of him, you reached up and adjusted his tie gently. “You look very handsome.”
His cheeks felt hot, “T-thank you… You-! You look really nice too- beautiful! You look beautiful…” he stammered, exaggeratedly gesturing at your appearance.
You giggled softly, “thank you, Spence… Shall we?”
“Yes, yes, right,” he replied, quickly scurrying to the door to open it for you.
The two of you made your way down to his car and he made a point to run ahead of you when you left your apartment building to open his passenger door for you. He was intensely determined to be a gentleman, wanting to give you a good impression so maybe you’d go on another date with him, maybe even come to Rossi’s dinner party next week. But he was getting ahead of himself, he should probably focus on the road.
“...So where are you taking me?” You asked, glancing out the car window at the city speeding by. 
“It’s one of my favourite places,” he replied, hands nervously gripping the wheel. “I… hope you like it.”
“I’m just happy to spend time with you, Spencer… We could sit on the pavement outside a seven eleven and I’d be thrilled,” you grinned, folding your hands in your lap as you watched him glance at you. You watched him for a moment, chuckling to yourself whenever he would glance down at your lap then clear his throat.
Spencer was really trying to keep his eyes on the road, but your plush thighs in the corner of his eye were proving to be very distracting. He had never had a pretty girl in his passenger seat before, especially not a girl he was taking on a date. 
Spencer drove for maybe 30 minutes before he pulled into a parking lot. Once he parked, he quickly got out of the car and did a little run around the front to open your door for you, reaching to help you out of his car.
Spencer held his elbow out for you and you linked arms, your hand gently holding his upper arm. There was a long line up outside the restaurant, people talking and laughing, clearly it was a popular spot. Spencer was stiff with nervousness, his hands clammy as you leaned your temple against his shoulder.
“You okay?” You questioned gently.
He nodded quickly, “Yeah, just… I’ve never been on a proper date before.”
You pouted, “well don’t be nervous. I’m only here for you, Spence. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
Spencer’s phone suddenly rang in his jacket pocket. You quickly let go of his arm as he pulled it out of his pocket, staring at Hotch’s caller ID. He hesitated for a moment, knowing it was work and he would likely have to leave. Spencer looked at you with such sadness and disappointment in his eyes.
“Work?” You asked softly.
“Yeah… But I-”
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you smiled sadly. “Your job’s important.”
Spencer sighed before stepping away from the line and answering the call. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but he sounded upset given his gestures and frantic running of his hand through his hair. After a minute he hung up, slipping his phone in his pocket. He looked at you sadly, opening his mouth to say something but you cut him off.
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you held his face softly. “You go, I’ll get a cab, okay? And when you get back you can tell me all about how you kicked ass, okay?”
Spencer breathed out a laugh and nodded timidly, “Okay.”
“Go,” you said, letting go of his face as he quickly darted away to his car. He was almost out of sight when you watched him turn back, running back to you. He quickly planted a kiss on your lips, breathing hard against you. You smiled against his lips and held his cheek in your hand. He pulled away just as fast, your lipgloss smeared along his lips. You wiped it off with your thumb, “okay, now go.”
“I’ll call you,” he breathed, kissing your cheek quickly before running off.
It killed him leaving you there. Spencer wasn’t someone who got angry that easily but he was in a bad mood about this. He charged through the bullpen that night like a bulldozer, ready to set fire to anyone who dared ask him ‘how he was’. Morgan, JJ and Emily sensed the crankiness the moment Spencer pulled his chair out and sat down with a thud, crossing his arms angrily. 
“Rough night, lover boy?” Morgan asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Wasn’t much of a night at all, really,” Spencer retorted with an attitude.
“Woah, woah, what happened?” Emily questioned, eyes narrowing at Spencer.
“I had a date, okay? That girl you met last night? Y/N? I was taking her to my favourite restaurant and then Hotch called and I-” Spencer had to stop himself before he blew up. His lips formed a tight line as he stared at the table, not daring to look up.
“Aw, Spence…” JJ sighed, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t help,” Spencer mumbled. He spent the rest of their meeting in a foul mood, barely listening to JJ as she listed the details of their next case. They were never usually called in on their days off but after almost twenty bodies, the BAU had a lot cut out for them.
“We’ll leave in two hours,” Hotch dismissed. Spencer was first up, grabbing the small stack of files and pushing toward the door to go to his desk. Morgan and Emily looked at each other, sharing a look of disbelief over Spencer’s crankiness. 
Spencer sat at his desk pushing his pen around, barely touching the cup of sugar with a splash of coffee that JJ got for him. All he could think about was how you probably wouldn’t talk to him again after this, he knew this job came with sacrifices, but he just wanted one thing, one thing, to himself.
“You okay, Reid?” Penelope asked softly. 
Spencer glanced up at her, letting out a sigh, “I was on a date with Y/N before this… We didn’t even get to sit down.”
Penelope’s shoulders slumped at his words, “I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up to her,” she said hopefully. 
Spencer nodded slowly, “I hope so.”
Penelope stepped away to answer a phone call and Spencer was left feeling sorry for himself at his desk for the next 30 minutes, going through his mind the different things he could say or do to make it up to you. Maybe he should call you? Text you? Drop by when he gets back? Or maybe he could buy you another cat as a peace offering-
“Is this seat taken?”
Spencer’s head shot up from his desk, coming face to face with you, your hand resting on the empty chair by his desk.
“Y/N? What are you-”
“I called Penelope,” you answered, “She told me you weren’t leaving for another hour so… I thought I’d bring dinner?”
You held out a plastic bag of take away food from the restaurant he took you to. You asked Penelope what his favourite thing on the menu was and bought some extra for yourself. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy as he stared up at you in disbelief.
He stood up and quickly hugged you, making you chuckle at the sudden affection. You felt your face heat up at all the eyes suddenly on you and Spencer. Morgan whooped from his desk, cheering loudly and obnoxiously, prompting Spencer to pull away from you.
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.
“You don’t have to apologise, Spence,” you replied. “You love your job and it’s important,” you shrugged, placing the plastic bag on his desk.
“God, you’re so sweet it’s killing me,” Emily grumbled, walking by with a fresh cup of coffee. She pointed at Spencer, brows raised, “keep her.”
You and Spencer shared a laugh before he pulled a chair over closer to his for you. You sat down and pulled your takeaway dinner from the plastic bag, letting Spencer tell you all about the restaurant and why this specific meal was his absolute favourite. His knees brushed against yours under his desk and he just revelled in the comfort of your company.
“So, what’s your new case?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink.
“Uh, well,” he trailed off.
“You can’t tell me, huh?” You chuckled.
“Not really, sorry,” he replied. “I’m sure it’ll be on the news tomorrow.”
“Right, well. I’m sure deep down I don’t really wanna know,” you shrugged.
He nodded, “the cases we work aren’t exactly pleasant.” Spencer sighed, “I wish we could have actually had a date.”
“This is a date,” you replied. “Is it not?”
“Well… I mean, it’s just not what I wanted for our first date.”
“Like I said Spence, you could take me to a seven eleven and I’d have a blast,” you chuckled, reaching over to run a thumb across his cheek. “You can make it up to be on our second date.”
Spencer quickly looked at you, “Second date?”
“Yeah… only if you want to?”
“Yes, yeah. I want to,” he replied almost too fast. You smiled sweetly at him, a piece of your hair falling from behind your ear. Oh yeah, he’s done for.
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a/n: had you in the first half, didn't i... dare i say you've pierced his heart, HAHAHAH
taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r
1K notes · View notes
nadvs · 1 month
Text
bittersweet (one-shot)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning alcohol use
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summary rafe both loves and hates that you’re his sister’s best friend. he gets to see you all the time, but it’s a constant reminder of what he can’t have… until one night, when his jealousy takes over and he can’t keep himself from you any longer.
» masterlist
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Rafe wonders if you know that he can hear you. It’s just false hope, but maybe you’re trying to make him jealous.
You’re in the bathroom getting ready for tonight’s party with Sarah, your pretty laugh reverberating through him as if he’s right next to you.
But he’s not. He’s never been as close to you as he would like to be.
His bedroom is right next door, where he’s sitting in bed, wasting time scrolling on his phone, eavesdropping.
“You’re lying,” Sarah says.
“I’m dead serious,” you reply. “I’ll read it to you.”
Rafe overhears you reading out a text you got from your ex last night… he loves you, he misses you, he shouldn’t have ever broken up with you.
He remembers seeing you in tears a few weeks ago when you visited his sister. Admittedly, he lingered by Sarah’s closed door, hearing you sniffle through your words about how he had dumped you out of no where.
It made his blood boil knowing someone did that to you. But like always, he pretended like you have no effect on him, later passing you by in the hallway without a single word exchanged.
“Do you think you’ll get back together with him?” Sarah asks after you finish reading the message.
“No way,” you reply. This makes Rafe’s heart feel a little lighter. Until he hears your next words. “I hope that guy I was talking to last weekend shows up tonight.”
Rafe fucking hates hearing you talking about guys you like. His crush on you is too big to not let it rattle him. And tonight, he might have to watch you flirt with someone that’s not him in his own fucking house?
He can’t take it anymore, rushing to the bathroom to see you standing by the mirror, your makeup halfway done.
“Do you have to be so loud?” Rafe snaps.
The only way he can talk to you without throwing any flags up is by being a dick. And admittedly, it kind of feels good getting his sexual frustration over you out like this, even though it’s severely misguided.
Sarah only rolls her eyes, having fully resorted to ignoring him at this point, but you smile at him in that way that makes his heart jump.
“Okay, grumpy,” you laugh. You’re in baggy sweats and big t-shirt and still manage to look fucking stunning. “You’re one to talk.”
Rafe knows you’re referring to the many fights of his that you’ve witnessed, both with his family and with people at parties.
He hates that your smile and your teasing make him want you even more.
He scowls at you but before he steps away, his eyes linger on you a little longer than you think they should. Wishful thinking, you tell yourself. You gave up on the fantasy that Rafe will look at you as anything more than his sister’s annoying best friend a long time ago.
“Sorry,” Sarah says, apologizing on behalf of her brother like always.
“Don’t worry about it,” he hears you respond. “I know what he’s like.”
Rafe shuts his door. What he’s like. You don’t fucking know what he’s like at all.
If you knew that you’re his first thought in the morning and his last thought at night, you’d realize he’s so fucking grumpy because he doesn’t get to talk to you how he wants to. Or touch you how he wants to.
He’ll have to avoid you at his party tonight. He’s not interested in seeing you flirt with some jackass.
That night, Rafe is halfway into a beer, zoning out of the conversation his friends are having around him.
You’re on the other side of the room, arm linked with Sarah’s. You’ve changed out of your comfortable clothes, wearing a dress that leaves little to the imagination. Man, what he’d do to you if he had the chance.
But he knows he doesn’t. You’ve seen him at his worst. Who in their right mind would want him?
As you chat with Sarah, your eyes drift to Rafe every so often. You can’t help it.
There’s something about his presence that’s so magnetic and dominant. And why is it when he’s wearing his hat backwards like that, your stomach does somersaults?
You need to get your mind off of him. It’s never gonna happen.
Then your eyes land on your ex-boyfriend, who just entered the room.
Rafe watches your face drop and your eyes lose their light. You turn to look at Sarah, whispering something to her, then disappear into the crowd. When he realizes your idiot of an ex just showed up, it takes everything in him not to crush the solo cup he’s holding.
He told himself he’d avoid you. He needs to keep his own promise.
Later in the night, you’re filling up your cup at the keg when you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“Don’t hog it,” he says, a joking tone to his voice. You turn to see your ex standing behind you. You only furrow your brows, in disbelief that he thinks he can speak to you so casually.
You don’t respond and he awkwardly shuffles in place.
“Did you get my text?” he asks.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” you say. It’s been weeks, but being with him again brings it all back, the way he told you he doesn’t see a future with you anymore. Instead of sorrow, though, you just feel anger.
“Can you just… can you give me five minutes?” he asks.
“Leave me alone,” you tell him. Rafe appears behind your ex, his blue eyes fixed on you. He’s angry like he always is, his jaw clenched.
You figure he’s annoyed that you’re using the keg when he wants to top up his own drink.
“I don’t get why we can’t just-” he continues, but is interrupted.
“She said to leave her alone,” Rafe mutters. Your ex turns around to face him.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks.
“This is my house.” Rafe has to duck to talk to him. The image stirs something in you. “Either stop bothering her or get the fuck out.”
Your ex turns to look at you, shaking his head in confusion.
“This your new boyfriend?” he asks, voice thick with envy.
“What? No,” you reply. The way you look almost appalled by the prospect makes Rafe feel like his heart is being wrung out.
You almost laugh. As if Rafe would want you.
Your ex turns to face Rafe again. In the tension of the moment, you feel a lump form in your throat. Anger from what your ex did to you. Embarrassment that he won’t leave you alone. Excitement that Rafe is defending you, followed by a sharp sadness that he’ll never see you the way you see him.
Rafe is about to swing at him. But then he sees the look on your face and his anger dissolves.
“Fuck off,” Rafe says sternly.
Your ex looks at you incredulously. You’re sure he knows Rafe would take him down in a second.
When he walks away, leaving you and Rafe just a foot apart, you flatten your lips as you look up at him.
“Thanks,” you say quietly. You never thought you’d thank him for anything.
Rafe’s eyes soften when he realizes your eyes are wet with the threat of tears. You feel mortified to be crying in front of him, so you leave your drink on the table behind you and brush past him, stalking upstairs to the same bathroom you did your makeup in.
Your hands grip the counter as you look at your reflection. You managed to swallow down your tears, determined to have a good night.
Three knocks thud against the door.
“Someone’s in here!” you say, weak voice echoing through the small room.
“It’s Rafe,” you hear.
Your heart leaps. What the hell could he have to say to you?
You swing open the door to meet his gaze. He’s wearing an expression you haven’t seen before.
Rafe can’t fucking take it anymore. He steps inside, shutting the door behind him, boxing you in between his body and the wall. His arms are crossed to keep himself from touching you.
“Why were you with him?” he demands.
“What?” you ask. He’s mad. Of course he’s mad. This is Rafe. Mad is his default setting.
“He’s obviously a fucking idiot,” he snaps. “And an asshole.” You’re not sure if this is some cruel display of annoyance, but you don’t have the patience for it.
Still, a part of you is buzzing to be alone with him.
“Why are you giving me shit right now?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. He brings his hand up to yours, pushing it away from your face.
It’s the first time his skin has ever touched yours.
“Why were you with him?” Rafe repeats. He’s so close to you that you can smell him. His aroma is earthy, like a comforting campfire. But nothing about him is warm. Never has been.
“How do you even know…” you mumble in confusion. You realize you have no clue how he knows that the guy he almost fought downstairs was your ex. “You don’t know anything about the situation.”
“I heard you,” he says. “I heard you crying over him. Why were you with someone who said that shit to you?”
Rafe recalls the way you told his sister that your ex called you names during your last fight. It made him sick.
You freeze for a moment. He heard you? Why the hell would he care to listen?
“Well, sorry I was being loud,” you say, still a little bitter about how he talked to you earlier tonight even though you had laughed it off in front of him. “Can you just… give me a break? It’s been a shitty night. I don’t need you judging me on top of it.”
“God, that’s…” Rafe steps back, taking off his hat just to smooth his hair back and put it back on again. “I’m not judging you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
A few heavy, tense seconds pass between you. Rafe is looking down at you, at how pretty you are, at how badly you need to be appreciated.
Then he leans down to press his lips against yours.
You were wrong. Rafe does have warmth to him. He’s nothing but warmth right now. The way his hot mouth captures yours and the way his hands cradle your cheeks fill you with need and happiness and a whirling sensation of unsteadiness.
Is this actually happening?
Rafe’s whole body buzzes when you kiss him back, your hands hooking up around his arms, palms on his shoulder blades. He’s pressed up against you, deepening the kiss, his tongue running over yours.
He wasn’t annoyed. He was jealous. You feel dizzy from the revelation.
Your back is flush against the wall, Rafe’s body curved against yours. He bites on your bottom lip for a second, sending an arousing pinch of pain through you, as if he’s punishing you for making him yearn for you.
The contradiction between your mind and your body is jarring - you thought he was annoyed by you, but he’s kissing you like he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t kiss you before.
Tasting and touching you like this makes Rafe harden, and he perches his hips back, unsure if this is too much for you. When your hands slide down to roughly pull his hips back towards you, he doesn’t need any more signals. You want him just as bad and it makes every inch of his skin burn.
Rafe shifts back, forehead pressed against yours, unable to open his eyes for a second.
“I need…” His voice is hoarse. He can’t do it like this. Not with you against a wall in the bathroom. “Let’s go to my room.”
You nod and follow him, letting him lead you onto his bed.
Your eyelashes overlap as Rafe hovers over you in his dark room, kissing you again. Tucked away from the crowds and music downstairs, all you can hear is the sounds of your lips smacking together and his fast breaths.
You spread your knees apart so he can settle between your legs. Desire consumes you as he grinds his cock against you. The sensation awakens the need you’ve had for him for so long but always told yourself you’re not allowed to feel.
You can’t help but feel a gnawing fear that this is just a meaningless encounter to him. You’re not equipped to deal with being just a piece of ass to Rafe. Sex with him will change everything. It needs to be worth it.
You gently push against his chest and worry floods through Rafe that he did something to make you uncomfortable.
He’s looking down at you in the shadows of his bedroom, his breaths shallow and fast.
“We shouldn’t…” you begin, and he nods quickly, arms straightening to sit up. Shit. He fucked up by kissing you. He’s not worth the risk to you.
But again, you pull him back in, this time with your hands cupped on his shoulders.
“Rafe, wait,” you breathe. “I’m saying… we shouldn’t if you don’t…” You take a beat to gain some courage. “I like you. For real. I’m not doing this if I’m just a hook-up to you.”
Rafe didn’t realize how heavy his heart sat in his chest until he hears you say that. He looks at you with wonder.
“You’re not just a hook-up,” he says, as if it’s obvious to you. “I like you so fucking much. I have for so long.”
“You mean it?” you ask. You realize this man has the power to break your heart.
He kisses you like you’re so damn delicate, like you could break in a second. The way you just said that, the edge and fragility of your voice, makes him feel like the luckiest man alive. You feel it, too. It’s not just him.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “I mean it.”
Your lips meet again with even more heat this time. He grinds against you with more pressure than before, his erection hard and big.
The fact that you’re the reason he’s so turned on is unreal.
Rafe’s hands dip under the hemline of your dress, fingers ghosting over your thighs. You tilt your hips up off the bed to offer him the space to pull your dress up. He immediately takes the invitation, watching you in awe as the fabric slides over your chest, your shoulders, finally off your body.
His open mouth attaches to the flesh of your breast, kissing and sucking. He pulls the cup of your bra down to close his lips over your nipple. The sensation makes you tremble and moan.
Your pretty sounds are better than anything he has ever heard.
His tongue flicks and wriggles over your nipple, then he moves to your other breast, eager to give all of you the attention you deserve.
“Let me eat you out,” he stammers. “Please.”
“Yes,” you whisper.
For so long. He said that he’s liked you for so long. Your mind is rustling with excitement and disbelief, your thoughts tangling together as you think back to every time he looked at you. Every time he spoke to you.
It’s crazy to think you can now reframe all those memories, knowing what you know now.
Rafe pulls your panties down and wishes his lights weren’t off so he could see you better. But what he does see in the dimness confirms what he always knew - that every part of you is beautiful.
You feel his fingers spread you apart, the cool air pressing against your core. The image makes his stomach numb with infatuation.
“Fuck,” he says, nearly whining. “Fuck… I can’t tell you how many times I wished I could do this.”
“Me, too,” you admit breathlessly. “I never thought you… wanted me.”
“Of course I do,” he half-chuckles. He regrets ever making you feel like you’re not desirable. You’re perfect.
Rafe dips his head. You’re like sugar on his tongue. You gasp when he presses his mouth against your clit. He can’t believe how much arousal is pooling between your legs as he starts to lap at you.
“You’re so wet for me,” he praises, planting a kiss on your cunt. His tongue twists and curls and when it dips inside of you, you feel like you’re on another planet.
He readjusts his hands to spread you even wider, wanting to pamper every fucking inch of you.
You bunch his hat between your fingers and throw it off of him to feel his hair. You dreamed of touching his hair for so damn long. You can’t help but tug at his roots as he gifts you with the best feeling you’ve ever had.
The thick, wet sounds of him slurping fill you with bliss. His mouth is giving you so much damn pleasure, the same mouth that would snap at you and frown at you and make you wonder why he disliked you so much.
It was all an act. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.
You felt how big he is when he was grinding against you. You need him to fuck you. Now.
“Rafe,” you moan.
“Hmm?” he says, mouth still closed around your clit, sending a vibration through you.
“Get inside me,” you whisper. “I can’t wait anymore.”
His heart is thrumming with exhilaration. He still can’t believe that you want him.
He pulls off his t-shirt and unbuttons his jeans with such fever that you smile in endearment. He’s moving like you’ll change your mind or come to your senses or something.
He sits over you on his knees, holding his cock at the base. It’s big and curved so fucking perfectly that you start to ache for him even more.
This will change everything and you’re so glad it will.
Rafe slowly drops to rest on his elbow on top of you, his other hand guiding him into your soaked entrance. You shudder in near unison as he pushes into you slowly, every inch feeling better than the last.
“Damn,” he groans, unrestrained. “You feel so fucking good.”
“What you expected?” you ask, a small hint of insecurity in your tone.
“Baby,” he laughs. The nickname makes your body tingle. “Even better.”
He pulls back slowly, then buries into you again, a deep, languid exhale leaving his lips. He ducks to kiss you as he fucks you slowly and lovingly, stretching you out, your chests pressed together.
His pace begins to quicken, the curve of his cock hitting deep inside you so perfectly.
“Can I go harder?” he asks against your mouth.
“As hard as you can,” you request. He shudders as he pulls back and slams into you with all his force. Your body jolts, his bed squeaking.
“Be mine,” he says between thrusts. “I need you to be mine.”
“I am,” you say. “I always was.”
This sends him over the edge. He’s about to cum, but he needs to get you there first.
To your disappointment, he pulls out, but when his mouth is back on you and his fingers are scissoring into you, you lift your feet off the bed and throw your head back.
Your walls start to flutter around him as you cum and he quickly shifts to stuff his cock back into you so you’ll finish around him. He feels his gut tighten and he explodes into you with a string of oh, fuck’s, your pussy squeezing around him in pulses as he spasms through his orgasm.
Rafe loves the way your arms and legs are wrapped around him. He feels so needed by you. It’s like a drug.
He collapses on top of you, holding himself up the best he can so not to crush you.
You’re both sweaty and breathless and smiling. He dips his head to press his warm cheek against yours as you remain wrapped up in each other.
“So was I,” he mutters against your ear.
“What?” you breathe, your legs numb from pleasure.
“I was always yours, too,” he says. He kisses the side of your neck, wishing he could never leave this moment. You let out a sweet laugh, squeezing his big, hard body tighter.
He’s never going to make you doubt if he really likes you ever again. He’s sure of it. He silently vows it as he kisses your neck countless more times.
inspired by this anon! if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘
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bahablastplz · 2 months
Text
Best friend's brother: Chan x reader
Thinking about best friend's brother Chan that has always been secretly obsessed with you Content: extremely fluffy, slight hurt/comfort, smut, really vanilla smut but super sweet Warnings: Oral sex (f! receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex WC: 2000
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Obviously, you and your best friend were inseparable. You grew up right next door, and her parents considered you to be another one of their children. You and Hannah were, for lack of a better word, siblings. Her older brother, however… that was a situation that you weren’t sure how to explain. 
You had always harbored feelings for the older man, despite the guilt that ate away at you. You could never tell Hannah that, however. Nor would you ever tell Chan or let your desires come to fruition. 
Which is why, once you came home for summer break you had no problem getting ready for your date at Hannah’s house. Though the thought of her brother being there made you gulp, you would just have to hope you wouldn’t run into him and everything would be fine–
“What’s got you dressed all up?” Of course, Chan appears from behind and makes eye contact with your reflection in the mirror. Hannah is sprawled across her bed and scrolling through her phone. 
“She’s got a hot date,” Hannah replies, snarkily. 
“Hot date?” Chan inquires while crossing his arms. He holds a slightly disapproving glare. 
“Yeah, with some guy she met online. He’s a real smokeshow–” 
“Hannah!” You say sharply, willing your best friend to somehow spare you the humility. 
“Where is he taking you, hm?” Chan says with a small, teasing lilt to his voice. 
“We’re going to a club…,” you whisper. 
“On the first date? No no no, that’s just a recipe for disaster, Y/N.” 
“It’ll be fine, Chan!” Hannah says. She doesn’t even bother to look him in the eye, so he bores holes into your own instead. He mutters out something about how he doesn’t like this and that you should really be careful before returning to his room.
As you finish getting ready, you admire yourself in the mirror. Your black dress hugs your body just right, and your makeup brings out just the right contrast to your face. Hannah says out loud exactly what you were thinking: 
“You look hot.” 
As you share your location with her and get ready to leave the house, it is almost 9 p.m. and your uber has arrived. Though you know the night will most likely not end up with you falling head over heels in love, you’re still hoping to have a good time and maybe get to know the guy more. However, before you step out the door you feel a hand grab your wrist. 
Chan is looking at you with a look you don’t recognize in his eye and you pause, waiting for him to speak. 
“Please, be careful. If anything happens, you have my number. I don’t care what time it is, you can reach out. It doesn’t matter if he’s being a creep or if you just don’t want to be there anymore, I will come and get you,” he says. He looks at you softly before adding, “And even if you don’t need me to get you, please text me when you’re home safe.” You could tell he was genuinely worried and this made your heart pang slightly, making it harder to will away the crush you have on the man. 
Your date shows up late, for starters. After twenty minutes you take your first shot, and your second drink arrives when your date does. He is unapologetic and starts touching you the second he sees you–that’s when you realize he is already wasted. Letting out a groan, you humor him with one dance, but when he immediately starts grinding on you you decide you have had enough. 
“I’m not really feeling it,” you say. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.” 
The man scoffs and immediately becomes defensive. “C’mon darling, you’re not going to show up looking like that and then act like a prude, are you?” He spits out some more mean insults that you don’t hear, because you’re already out the door and dialing Chan’s number. 
He picks up on the first ring. 
“Are you okay–” 
“I’m fine, can you please come and get me?” 
“I walked out the door the second I saw your name flash on my screen,” he says. You hear his engine start and know he is telling the truth. 
It’s cold outside, but Chan has the heat pumping in his car when he pulls up. You curl into yourself, feeling embarrassed at the situation you’ve found yourself in. The ride is silent, though it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s playing your favorite music. 
When he pulls up to your driveway, he puts his car into park. 
You start talking before he says anything, even though you know he wasn’t going to force you. 
“He showed up completely trashed and started touching me before I even really talked to him,” you said. Tears start streaming down your face and you hope that Chan won’t notice, but of course he does. He always does. He leans over the center console to wipe a tear away. 
“He showed up drunk? Oh, I’m so sorry… you don’t deserve that,” he says. “I knew it was a bad idea.” 
You know he’s trying to console you but you feel so defeated. “Why is it such a bad idea for me to want to go out and have fun?” You practically cry out. “Why does everybody else get to have a normal dating life and get to hook up with people and enjoy college, but when I try to do it it never works out?” Chan just nods along to your words. 
“You just haven’t tried with the right person yet, Y/N…” 
“There will never be a right person, because the one I want is you and that’s never going to happen!” You slap a hand over your mouth and stiffen when you realize what you had said, and when you meet Chan’s gaze you see that he’s staring at you with wide eyes. You’re completely sober now. 
You are out of the car lightning fast, slamming the door behind you and racing to your house. You’re fully sobbing now as you unlock your door, but when you go to slam it behind you Chan sticks his foot in, holding it open. He uses the opportunity to invite himself in and immediately you’re in his arms, in a warm embrace. 
“I’m sorry,” you say against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it, I–” 
“Don’t say that,” he warns. “Don’t you dare take it back.” 
“Chan, I–” He pulls you away to meet your gaze, placing his hands around your face and using both his thumbs to wipe your tears away. 
“Y/N, I have known you for as long as I’ve remembered and I’ve never seen a part of you that I hate,” he says. “I have fallen deeper and deeper in love with you every day, so to hear you say that… Please don’t take it back. Please don’t tell me that you don’t want this,” he trails off, his eyes darting to your lips. 
You crash your lips into his at full force and breathe against him, completely enamored. He picks you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist and carries you to your room, the one he had been in more times than you could count, all while keeping his lips locked against yours. He drops you onto your bed with a flop and you bounce, observing his admiring gaze. His lips are on you again, then they trail to your neck, leaving long burning kisses behind as he trails lower. His thumbs press into your waist. 
“It made me sick,” he confesses. “The thought of you going to the club with some guy that was just going to use you. Some guy you had never met, someone who would never in a million years make you feel the way that I could.” 
He drops to his knees at the edge of your bed, pulling you closer to his face by your hips. He pulls your legs apart, slotting his body in between them, and starts pressing soft kisses to your thighs. You watch his every move, your body relying on your elbows to keep you upright so you don’t miss a second of this. 
“Say it again,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me, that you need me as bad as I need you.” 
“Chan please,” you breathe out. “Wanted you for so long… Thought you’d never like me like that.” 
“Are you kidding?” He chuckles. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you.” And with that, he lifts your dress up. It bunches against your waist messily and his nose presses into your clothed core. You groan out at the contact and he does as well, placing agonizingly slow kisses and licks against you. He grabs at your waistband and you lift your hips, allowing him to slide them off of your body. He wastes no time before diving back in and your head lolls back at the feeling. 
“Look at me, please,” he begs. “Let me watch you fall apart.” Your eyes snap back to meet his gaze and you immediately feel so comforted and seen from his expression. It allows you to let yourself relax as he flicks and swirls his tongue around your clit. 
He watches your every expression, every hitch of your breath and every buck of your hips, expertly making you fall apart on his tongue. One finger slides inside of your pussy, pumping in and out experimentally, and you feel yourself coming to your peak. 
“God, Chan, please–” 
“I gotcha, baby,” he says. “Come for me.” You fall apart for him completely knowing that he will be right there to put you back together, and he helps you ride out your high, observing the fucked-out look on your face as if it would be the only time he would ever see it. 
You pant and reach for him and he interlocks his hand in yours, coming up to kiss you even more passionately than before. He presses his clothed bulge into your center and you hiss at the contact, still sensitive. 
“Can I?” He asks. 
“Please,” you respond. His pants are slid down and he pushes himself into you in a moment. You feel emotionally overwhelmed, looking down to see where you are completely and utterly connected. The way his breathing becomes shallow, you know he’s thinking the same thing. 
He picks up one of your legs, wrapping around your shoulder and starts pistoning into you, and the change of angle makes you go utterly weak. Your back arches and his lips are against your skin, anywhere they get a chance to meet. 
“All mine,” he grunts. His hips start slamming into yours faster, and one hand reaches up to cover your mouth, muffling any noises that might be starting to slip. “Say it… say you’re all mine and only I get to… fuck, see you like this.” 
You can tell he’s close, and the hand that reaches down to start rubbing against your clit confirms your suspicions. 
“Chan… so close… I’m all yours, Chan, please, please…” His name releases from your lips like a mantra, and as you feel yourself come to your high once again and clench around his length, he pulls you even closer, releasing himself into you. 
Your arms wrap around him and your fingers run through his hair comfortingly as he collapses on top of you. 
You and Chan have always been relatively close by association, particularly given the situation, but at the moment you and him are so intertwined you aren’t sure you can ever let go. 
He holds you as you fall asleep that night. 
“Do you think Hannah will be mad?” you ask. 
“No way,” he mumbles against you. “She’s been trying to get us together for years.” 
You laugh incredulously against the man. Though you weren’t expecting to find your true love that night, you guess life had other plans.
*** First real ff post on tumblr yay!! Welcome to my skz blog, I wanted to start off with something tame lol...I have a lot of really exciting things planned to post so stay tuned <3 Masterlist Recs
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luveline · 2 months
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I love love LOVE the writing you've done for Spencer Reid!!! I'm practically living off of it at this point. I was thinking since we All love Spencer wearing glasses, what if the roles were reversed and HE was the one getting flustered after seeing reader in glasses for the first time?
thank u!!
“Where is she?” 
Spencer doesn’t have to look to guess what ‘she’ Morgan is wondering after. “She texted. She woke up late.” 
“Late? Is that BAU approved?” Morgan asks.
“I think her phone is broken.” 
Emily shakes a hair tie down her hand. Morgan holds her compact mirror open for her. “She’s not the only one running late. I swear the night gets shorter every time I fall sleep.” She wrinkles her nose, collecting her hair into one hand behind her head, wrapping her tie around in an impressive, painful looking ponytail. Morgan passes her a comb. She neatens up her bangs. 
Spencer’s head finally lifts at the sound of your hasty entrance and following apologies, “I’m sorry, shit, oh, sorry. I’m really sorry, Anderson, I’ll make it up to you,” you say, hidden behind Anderson’s tall stature.
“That’s okay, L/N. Hey, what’s with the glasses?” 
Spencer squints, willing Anderson to move out of the way. “It’s a long story,” you say, shuffling past Anderson to hurry to the front of the bullpen. Spencer locks onto your face,. His hands fall into his lap. 
You’re wearing clear-rimmed glasses with metal legs that slip down your nose the closer you get, your makeup lighter than usual, and your clothes a repeat of what you wore yesterday, though he’s probably the only person who’d notice. He barely gives your rumpled blouse a second glance, too distracted by your hand, your fingers as you push the glasses up the bridge of your nose. “Is Hotch in yet?” you ask hopefully. 
“He’s been here since five,” Morgan tells you, double-taking when he spots your new accessory. “Oh my god, you’re adorable.” 
You raise a hand between you both to hide your face from his view. 
Spencer gets out of his chair. “I was really hoping he’d be late too,” you say, turning to Spencer with a gentle pout. “It’s like wishing to win the lottery, I guess.” 
Holy shit. He’s breaking a sweat. There’s heat gathering at the base of his neck, worse when you push the glasses up again, your eyes shiny and wide-pupiled behind them. “You’re wearing glasses,” Spencer says.
“Oh, I know, I kept that secret, huh? My left contact got all dried up and I figured I didn’t have time to mess around, so you’re forced to suffer me like this.” You put your hand bashfully under your chin, a cherub posing. “I look like an old lady.” 
“No you don’t.” 
“I do, I look aged.” You put your bag on the floor by his chair and brush your hands down your clothes. “Spencer, it’s hopeless. I look like I slept in it. Maybe my glasses are atrocious enough to distract everyone.” 
“They’re not atrocious, you look beautiful.”
He immediately breaks eye contact to stare at your shoulder. Why did I say that? he thinks. Why do I talk so much? Heat fills his cheeks in a matter of seconds, but he holds his breath rather than let it out, totally frozen. 
Emily’s laughing as you step forward, hand out to touch his arm. You tilt your head to one side and Jesus, he wasn’t lying, you make his heart stop just looking at you. “You think so?” you ask softly. 
You aren’t laughing. Spencer nods, a tight up and down. 
Your lips press together in a shy smile. 
“They’re both as bad as each other!” Emily whisper-shouts. 
“What’s the matter, Reid, cat got your tongue?” Morgan asks. 
You push your glasses up your nose again, still smiling to yourself, so Spencer doesn’t mind his humiliation. You don’t call yourself atrocious again. If anything, you glow.
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smutoperator · 2 months
Text
Versace On The Floor
Ning Yizhuo (Ningning) x Male Reader
Tags: anal, armpit licking, ball throating, creampie, crying, fashion, feet worship/footjob, (lots of) floor sex, mirror fucking, mouth gag, photoshoot, prone bone, rough but romantic, (lots of) screaming, spitting, throatpie, water play
Word count: 6569.
Shanghai, China, October 18th, 2023
Versace had been searching for a new ambassador for the very important East Asia market. They already had their pick set in mind: a short girl from Harbin, China, going by the name of Ning Yizhuo, also known by her cute stage name of Ningning. They had already been scouting her for a few months and even sent her some of the brand's clothes and accessories for her to test. It truly seemed like a perfect fit, but they needed a few extra tests.
Ningning was invited to Versace's icon dinner, taking place in Shanghai. They were aware of her potential and wanted to make sure she would sign her contract in her home country of China over her workplace in Korea. But before she was going to attend the dinner, they told her she had a photoshoot to make.
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"Perfect, amazing pose." You were the photographer for Ningning's photoshoot. Her ability to model truly impressed you. Truth be told, while Ningning was only a few days away from turning 21, she had a long baggage of training and had proven to be a true ace. There was no art she wasn't unable to craft, and modeling seemed pretty easy for Harbin's ice princess.
Ningning was so stunning, you felt like your pics weren't doing her beauty justice. The lens of the camera just couldn't capture how beautiful she was. Regardless, the Versace team supervising the photoshoot seemed to have largely approved your pics, even though you felt a bit underwhelmed and thought you could do much better.
The photoshoot was successfully wrapped up, but there were still a few hours before her dinner was going to start. The rest of the Versace staff left, but they instructed you to stay alone with her, giving you instructions on what to do to Ningning next. You then communicated it to her: "They want to make you a global ambassador, but they told me you need to pass some tests before becoming one."
"What kind of tests?" Ningning asked, a little confused but willing to grab such a unique opportunity. "They are, let's say, a little naughty," you replied, still a little embarrassed and not believing the task they gave you. "Naughty? What kind of naughty?" she asked.
"Sit, and I will show you," you told her. Ningning obliged, sitting on the chair where you had just taken pictures of her. Then you gave her the command, "But this time, instead of crossing your legs, I'll need you to spread them." "Ok," Ningning replied, still a little embarrassed as well.
You dove under Ningning's stunning Versace black dress, pulling her panties to the side and unveiling her butterfly-shaped pussy. "What are you doing?" she says, shocked. "It's part of the test; just stay calm," you reply. Ningning feels a bit wierded out at first with your tongue licking her folds, which are just as pretty as the rest of her body, but slowly eases up as you continue to move under her dress and touch her thighs.
"Get up, take your panties off, and go to the mirror," you tell Ningning, who obliges. You place a gag in her little mouth as Ningning faces the mirror. "Versace's next Global Ambassador is right here; she only needs to pass this test and be a good girl to me," you tease her, giving Ningning a massage right at her boob area with her dress still on. "You're gonna need new makeup for the dinner; this one is going to be ruined soon," you threaten her. Ningning looks a little scared but also very excited, wondering what is coming next.
You reach under Ningning's dress and start fingering her pussy nice and slowly. Even with the gag in her mouth, you can still hear her moaning nasally. "Shhhh," you ask her not to moan that much as your right hand now pinches her tits while the left one remains working on Ningning's pussy. "Your moans are so classy, I think you're a perfect fit for the brand," you tell Ningning as you put extra heat in her pussy, making her knee bend a little.
You pinch Ningning's pussy lips. "They look like wings from a butterfly," you say as you spread them out, and they get a lot of your attention. You then lift Ningning's arms up and turn her around, looking at her perfect doll face as you start licking her perfect and clean armpits. Every inch of her body is perfect, indeed. You give Ningning's right armpit some hard licks. "Oh shit," she says under the mouth gag as you search towards her most sensitive zones.
You never take your attention out of Ningning's pussy, fingering it harder, which makes her moan louder. "You look like such a great fuckdoll," you tell her as you now move to her left armpit, with a pair of fingers now penetrating inside her pussy. You aggressively lick her pits before lowering her bra straps, unveling Ningning's soft and ripe tits, which you promptly suck like a baby. 
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH OHHHHHHHHHHH~," Ningning lets out many high note moans as you move fast between her pair of boobs while putting lots of heat inside her pussy, as you know, with three fingers penetrating her vagina, leading her to scream endlessly. As you finish the finger-fucking session, Ningning rests her head against the mirror, drained by your overstimulation. You take your hands out of her pussy and let her juices pour right into her mouth, but only teasing her as it's still covered by the gag. Instead, you put your hand inside your own mouth and taste them, following it with a torrid kiss on Ningning's covered mouth.
"Whore, whore," you keep repeating to Ningning as you spit on her tits and slowly move down her body, lifting her dress and ducking your head under her pussy, licking it and sniffing it as hard as you can. She smells really good; to a point, it sends you to the heavens. Your sloppy tongue spits all over her folds as Ningning lowers her head to watch you eat her out from up top. "That clit is so fucking hard already," you tell her, as queefing noises come out of her pussy.
You spit on Ningning's pussy as you finish your cunt-eating session, turning her around and pinning her against the mirror, already with a new target in sight as you start tonguing her asshole. Just like with her pussy, you're impressed by its cleanliness. Class, etiquette, and hygiene—Ningning seems to indeed check all the boxes for Versace. Your mouth feasts on Ningning's anus as she continues to moan like a whore, filling the mirror with the steam of her breath.
Ningning's asshole is so tight, tastes so good, and has such a great smell that it makes you go feral. You bark like a dog as you move your tongue up and down her anal folds. Her moans are all you need to know why she's so well regarded as a vocalist, as they are loud, stable, and hit some of the hardest notes. "Whoa," Ningning says as you lift her little body up, grabbing her by the legs and placing her high heels in your thighs as you continue to eat her ass while she clings to the mirror to not fall down.
But as things continue to go on, Ningning takes on a more active role. Sensing how much you like her ass, she starts bouncing it in the air while you tongue it. You quickly try to restablish your dominance, pinning Ningning back while she reaches her hand to now be the one caressing your ass. You sniff her black hair, and just like everything else in her, it smells amazing. "Good girl, I want to hear your beautiful voice," you tell her, taking the gag out of her mouth. Ningning lets out a radiant smile as soon as you do it.
You tongue-kiss Ningning, and she quickly answers, turning her head to face you and interlocking both your lips. You grab her neck a bit, but let her take the initiative as she blows you away with how good of a kisser she is. Is there anything this girl can't do?. "I can't wait to fuck the shit out of you," you whisper in her ear between more and more torrid kisses. You choke Ningning as she fills the mirror with fog from her breath. "Look at this whore," you tell her. "Perfect to get pounded until she gets her global ambassador title," you continue as you spit on the mirror, leading Ningning to put her tongue out and lick it immediately. More kisses ensue. Good god, just Ningning's tongue is already sending shockwaves all over your body. You wonder what's going to happen when you actually start fucking her.
Your belt gets unhooked in a snap, and your urge to have Ningning, please, takes your already throbbing cock to the next level. You tie your belt to Ningning's neck and tell her, "You're my pet now.". "Yes, be my owner, and I'll be your fucking bitch," she says. "Then get on your knees," you reply as you take your pants off, and your hard cock immediately springs out of them. Ningning doesn't need any commands, as she already starts licking the sides of your shaft before inserting that throbbing meat in her mouth.
Ningning can't stop moaning even while sucking cock, as she also imprints her long nails all over your crotch. You respond by choking her a little bit more with your belt. Ningning pins her head against the mirror and starts sucking you off with her hands behind her back. She was truly like those A+ students who can ace any evaluation you throw at them. "You like it?" you asked her. "Yes, I fucking love it; it's so meaty and tastes so fucking good," she replied.
"Open your mouth; let me see how much you love it," you ask Ningning, who quickly follows. At first, you barely put half of your shaft in before shoving your full length inside Ningning's tiny gloryhole. "This one will go so deep I'll make you cry," you bragged, but Ningning resisted, instead engulfing your whole sword down her throat. You kept forcing it, but it took a long time before she finally gagged.
"So that's how I assume you already do your throat training," you mocked her. "I wanna see you cry like a whore," you kept going, but Ningning was insanely strong. You knew you needed much more to break the ice princess than shoving a girthy microphone down her throat. You sloppily fucked Ningning's face to get your cock wetter, but she barely bulged except for a couple gags. Even after pressing your whole weight against her face and shoving your balls inside her mouth as well, she still stayed put against your attacks. Ningning was a good fuckdoll, but she was no pushover.
"Bite me," you asked Ningning, who left a huge mark in your left hand with her teeth. Ningning barked as she bit you as hard as she could, like an untamed pet who doesn't have any owners. Her face was that of a girl who would do anything to become the next Versace girl, and you knew it. You had to slap her in the face to prevent your order from backfiring and have her leave your fingers bleeding.
"So now you're crying," you told Ningning as you saw tears flow down her eyes following a few slaps you gave her doll-esque face. "Should have done it earlier," you reprimanded her as you grabbed her by the neck and sat on top of her before switching back to romantic kisses and giving her tits a little caressing. That didn't last long, though, as you grabbed Ningning by the hair and dragged her down the floor on her knees like your pet, making her fall down. As soon as she did, you spanked her ass. "Bad whore," you said. "You need to be punished.".
You placed your fingers on both of Ningning's bottom holes, as your index and middle fingers penetrated her pussy while your thumb penetrated her asshole. "You know what? There is something much better to do," you say as you put your cock on Ningning's pussy in one go. "AHHHHHHH. AHHHHHH. AHHHHH," she immediately screams as you pin her body to the floor, going rough on her but at the same time very passionate, as you kiss Ningning to the rhythm of your pumps inside her vagina.
"Holy shit, you fuck my pussy so good, oh God," Ningning praises you. But truth be told, she's the one who deserves all the praise. You just go hard because you know she can take it, and holy shit she does it like a pro. You thurst full speed in and out of it, and Ningning loves every second of it, but especially every inch of it stratching her out. As you finish the first round of fucking her beautiful butterfly pussy, you give her ass a tap and leave her lying on the floor, staring at her sexy fuckholes.
Ningning gets up and crawls in your direction. The hard floor is nothing for someone who is always banging those strong knees on dance practices every day. You sit on the floor as well, as she starts taking your shoes off. As soon as she does, you nearly kick her in the face; her reflexes save her from it. In fact, you wanted to make her sniff your dirty socks as punishment, and soon enough, she did. You go even further, shoving your toes into Ningning's whore mouth. "I want to see if you can sing with those now," you laugh.
As Ningning takes your sock off, she ends up falling for your trap, with you tying them around her mouth. "Shut the fuck off and obey your master," you say as you kiss her with your socks in her mouth, before spitting on her face and then putting the other sock inside her hole. "Are you my pet?" you ask. Ningning just nods positively. You continue to tie her up, as now you fully wrap your belt around her neck.
You plow Ningning's pussy from behind as she tries to scream even with her mouth completely shut off. Her nipples scrape the floor as they bounce each time you pound her. "Shut up, little cunt," you tell her as you dive her head to the floor. But Ningning is incapable of obeying. Her mouth was born to sing, and she does it a lot, even while getting stretched out by a big, meaty cock while pinned to the floor. "Fucking whore, fucking whore," you repeat as you remove one of the socks and now try to fuck her mouth with the other sock still inside it, stretching Ningning's tight singing hole to the maximum.
As you free Ningning's mouth, you keep spitting on her. This time, you try to tame her by shoving your balls in her mouth, but she takes it with no issue, wrapping her tongue all over them. "If you like to use that tongue so much than eat my asshole," you order to her. Ningning dives her mouth into your dirty anus as you masturbate yourself watching her lick it clean. " Finally acting like a good whore, cleaning your photographer's asshole," you "praise" her.
You lock Ningning's head around your neck, making her sniff your butthole even harder. Despite your sweatiness and dirtiness, she keeps it cool and continues to lick it. You try to make it harder on her as you jiggle your ass all over her face. "Now you're the dirty whore I wanted," you say, but that only leads to Ningning sticking her tongue even deeper in your anus.
You get up and grab her hair once again, dragging your little pet towards the chair where Ningning once sat like a queen on her throne. This time, however, she kneels on it with her ass up as you spank her again. You lick her butthole as Ningning spreads her legs a little on the chair. "FUUUUUCK," she moans as you stick your middle finger up her tight butthole. While you may try to treat Ningning like a useless whore, the truth is that you in fact worship her, as you literally turn into her ass kisser, giving her tiny little ring kiss after kiss and praising its tightness.
"Let me get in there," you say as your finger and mouth are soon replaced by something much bigger as you grab Ningning's cheeks and start fucking her ass. She moans like she usually does, even better now with no restraints in her mouth. Her anus is so tight that after a few pumps, you have to pull it out and then struggle to come back as you keep missing it. Ningning has to come to your aid as she lifts her left leg to give you an easy entrance to her asshole.
Ningning feels the burn as you push deeper into her tiny bumhole, but her eyes are full of lust, and she keeps telling you to push harder. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight in there," you tell her as she moans close to your face. You let Ningning close her legs and wrap your cock like a hot dog sausage as she moves her hips up and down your shaft for you to watch before you surprise her with the deepest insertion yet.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY GOOOOODDDDDDDDDDD,"  Ningning screams to the top of your lungs. This is truly the first time you see her voice crack. You punish her by going even deeper and giving her already red face an extra spank, as she starts begging for God at each pump you give deep inside her asshole. "FUCKKKKKKK. AHHHHHHH. YESSS!" she continues to scream. She's been told to be like this, always expressing her emotions through her voice.
"Oh shit, the way you scream is so sexy," you tell her, pushing her head closer to yours as you keep stretching her ass. Ningning just can't stop. At this point, you are just relieved that you decided to have the photoshoot in a more isolated building, because otherwise thousands of people would hear her screaming.
"I fucking love you; I want to fuck you until you lose your voice," you tell Ningning as you keep going harder and harder in her butthole. "Scream for me, you fucking bitch," you tell her as you spank her ass five consecutive times. Ningning instead opts for her sexy moans before she has to cling onto the chair as you keep shaking it left and right.
"Bad girl," you tell Ningning as you put her on her knees. She jiggles her ass and masturbates your pole before you insert it back deep in her hole, moaning a lot in between. "Don't move," you demand as you spank her now completely red butt, and she rests her head on the top of the chair. "Say you're my toy," you demand of her. "I'm your toy; I'm your toy," she repeats using her aegyo voice. "Then feel that cock," you tell her, grabbing her ass and pumping inside Ningning's anus slowly and deeply. You hit the perfect spots as she beautifully moans.
You grab Ningning by the belt around her neck, treating her like she is your dog. Her face is now redder than her cheeks as she closes her eyes. "Yes, treat me like your toy. AH. AH. AH. FUCKKKKKKK," she keeps saying. "Let me see that face." You push her closer to you as Ningning continues to scream. "Shhhhhh," you tell her, but she ignores your claims for silence, screaming even harder each time you hit deep in her asshole.
You had enough of Ningning screaming and put your belt on her mouth. To no avail. You can only muffle it, but Ningning keeps yelling as if she were at a singing competition. "AHHHHHHHHHH," she yells. You grab Ningning by her arm and keep fucking her hard in the ass; she can't stop screaming. Her legs tremble as she puts her right one in the air, barely able to hold herself with the hard speed of your poundings.
Ningning looks tired as you remove the belt from her mouth. But you are far from done, pushing her little body back to the floor. "Ride me," you demand as you push Ningning back up and sit on the chair where you just obliterated her. "YES. YES. YES!" she screams as she spreads her legs, and you put your cock back in her ass and the belt back in her mouth, trying to resist as you push your big meat up her butthole. "FUCK. Oh God!" she screams, even if it's muffled by the belt.
You free Ningning from the belt as she gets her eyes destroyed, taking the belt off again. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!" she instantly screams as you do it. Her little body is very easy to place under a full Nelson, as her legs are now spread at a 120-degree angle, and your arms lock her as you grab Ningning by her head. Ningning has to start fingering herself as you quickly move into stimulating her tits, but never lifting the gas off and fucking her ass every single time.
You have to slow down not to cum as you move an already tired Ningning into the table to the side of the chair, still with your prick inside her ass. She screams as her face stares at the floor while you destroy her tiny hole and mount on top of her as if she were just a useless cow. You have to bring the other chair to rest her head on, as she keeps yelling. Ningning's face turns red after so much screaming, but you shut it once again, this time with her mouth. She is a mess that can only hope that all this rough session is enough for her to become the next Versace girl as you destroy her asshole in a rough prone bone.
"DAMN FUCK!" Ningning screams as you show no mercy towards her, having to push her head against the chair to endure the endless fucking. She pants hard, and her face is now redder than a tomato as your roughness gives way to some passionate kisses. "You're the best girl I've ever fucked," you gently tell her as you put your thumb in her mouth and fully top her, your cock still buried deep in her ass. Ningning never looked so sore, but she also loves how intensely you fuck her.
After a little rest, you come full force to pound her tight ass, this time stomping all over her little doll head. Her butt gets spanked, her tits press against the chair, and she's completely pinned like a submissive whore. "AHHHHHHH FUCK!" she screams once again as you replace your fast thrusts and move to slow but very deep hits inside her butthole, inserting your thick cock balls deep inside her.
"Stay there," you tell Ningning as your rough session ends. She moans and pants as her body stays on the chair. Your spanks turned her fully red, and her legs barely moved. You keep looking at her, pondering your next move, until you decide to once again grab her by the hair. You really like how good it looks, despite how messy she is right now. You're kind and give her some water to drink before feeding her your cock, making a splash inside her mouth. You keep this weird mix of water and sausage, giving Ningning a little more as a reward for sucking it good, despite having her mouth already full.
Ningning bursts the water on your cock as you insert it deep in her throat. Despite all the rough pounding, she can still take a big one in her mouth with ease. Maybe you just haven't broken that doll enough. As you finally empty the bottle and fuck her face a couple times, you two now get on your knees and passionately kiss each other on the floor.
You put your washed cock back on Ningning's tight cunt, letting her do the riding this time. Ningning doesn't look as strong as before, as her bounces initially only get half of your length inside her pussy, but she quickly adjusts to take it deeper despite her very sore hole up top that winks every time she gets to the base of your shaft. You give her butt a little slap, and she answers, increasing the pace. Her screams are now fully back, and despite her tiredness, she still manages not to crack.
"Good girl," you praise Ningning's ride as she slides straight down your pole, then tilts her body down to let you spank her even further. The redder you turn her snowy skin, the better. "I want you to cum all over that cock," you tell her as she steadily bounces on it. After a few screams, Ningning stops and sits with your shaft fully inside her, letting out her orgasmic moans as her pussy clenches all over your meat. Ningning goes insane, making the chair move a lot as she twists and turns while riding your cock.
You give Ningning very passionate kisses and grab her by the waist as she gets closer to you. "I love you, I love you," she says, never stopping her bounce. "Then cum all over me," you demand of her, who screams as her pussy creams your cock with juices. You rest your back on the chair as Ningning is now in a straight position, bouncing on your dick, while you grab her by the belt wrapped around her neck. "Keep going; ride me like a little toy," you tell her. Ningning beautifully moves up and down your shaft as you grab her waist.
You make it harder on Ningning, spanking every inch of her body like she's just a ragdoll. Belly. Pussy. Face. Nothing can escape your heavy hands. But your favorite target are her bouncy tits. "Oh yes," she screams as you land a heavy hit on her boobs before groping them. "Oh my God, what a fucking whore!" you say to her. Ningning moans as you move close to her to give her more kisses. Every time you treat her rough, you compensate, showing how much you love her. And she knows, wrapping her arms around you like a cute girl who only wants to feel loved.
Without ever leaving her pussy, you move the kissing session elsewhere by pushing Ningning back to where she belongs, the cold, hard floor. You top her on a torrid missionary, giving her pussy slow pumps as you continue to interlock your lips with hers. Ningning licks her chops as you press her whole body to the floor and kisses her neck while fucking her passionately, spreading her legs as you deeply mate her, rocking your hips sideways as her moans get more and more out of breath.
Ningning holds her hands against the chair as you now move around her tits, kissing and sucking them multiple times. After a few more kisses in her mouth, you switch to a fast pace as clapping sounds come out every time you pound her pussy. "YES, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," she yells as you hit her cunt hard, sticking her tongue out as you spit in her mouth and go back to treat her like a fuckdoll. 
You find some love for her armpits, licking them once more and adding them to your spitting session, but what you like the most is spitting on her face, showing your disapproval of how much of a slut she is. "That fucking cunt is so tight," you tell her as you keep pounding her. Ningning keeps yelling as you pick up the pace, pounding her against the floor like nothing. 
You put her legs up in the air and play with her asshole, going in and out of it to tease her. "YEAH. FUCK!" she screams as you keep doing it before surprising her with fast pumps in her gaped butthole. "Oh yeah, fuck!" Ningning screams as you grab her left thigh. "Open that ass," you demand of her as she spreads her sore cheeks and shows her huge gape. Her holes wink as you go back in, groping her tits, choking her, and treating her roughly as she remains lying on the floor.
Ningning gets obliterated on the floor as you keep fucking her mercilessly. "AHHH!" she yells, her body bouncing at each thrust. You start fingering her pussy and put her upside down. "OH MY GOD. What?" she asks as juices flow out of her wet vagina and her legs tremble, making her scream even further: "FUCKKKKKKK". You apply so much pressure to her pussy she collapses back on the floor, yelling as she orgasms and her body twists and turns. You drag her body across the floor and then massage her tits as she cums.
You put Ningning back upside down to torture her pussy even further, putting all your fingers inside of it and massaging her hole. Ningning lets out a perfect high note as you make her cum, and her hole gets even wetter. You spink her at the floor and turn her dizzy, her only reacting the way she knows best: screams and more screams.
Ningning once again gets fucked hard against the floor, but this time it's her mouth that gets your throbbing cock going in and out of it at full speed. You don't even look at her, just treating her like a bunch of fuckholes that are only there to please your cock. You shut her throat down, having enough of her screams, which come as soon as you free her mouth for a little second. But Ningning wants more, as she sucks your big dick on the floor before you react by sitting your whole weight against her doll face and putting your cock back in her mouth.
"Choke on it, bitch," you tell her as your balls also go inside her mouth. She tries to push up, but you slap her in the face. "I told you to choke on it," you say as you punish her. This time, you drag her by her knees and send her back to the mirror. You two made a mess a while ago. "Look how dirty it is; I think a whore got in there," you say as Ningning pants and licks the mirror. The mouth gag goes back in her mouth as you want her to watch herself get destroyed.
"Shhhhh," you tell her as you get close to her body. Ningning looks into the mirror as she sees your devilish face, ready to fuck her even harder. You wrap your hands around her pussy and then let her wrap your hands around your cock, grinding on it. Soon, her hands are tied behind her back, and she watches herself look like a mess in the mirror.
"Look at you, Versace's next slut," you prank her as your hands go back to massage her butterfly-shaped pussy. Ningning reacts and matches your moves down low, jerking your cock off. "Do you love me?" you ask her as she nods positively. "Now you do. I took it all the way; you should love me. Because what I tell Donatella will be what is going to decide your future with the brand," you say, taking the gag off Ningning's mouth and kissing her passionately as tears flow out of her eyes.
"Don't cry. You're a good girl," you tell her, as she can only pant and massage your cock, nothing else. But she doesn't listen and continues to cry. "I'm going to miss you after you're gone," you tell her. Ningning hasn't looked this emotional since all her hard work paid off and she was selected to debut for Aespa. She loves you too, and she's ready to join the Versace family. "After we are done, I'll think of you every day. We haven't even finished, but I already missed you." You continue to proclaim your love for Ningning, the most beautiful girl you've ever seen.
"I fucking love you, and I'm gonna show it," you say as you pin Ningning back against the mirror and put your cock back in her pussy. Just like earlier, she instinctively holds her hands against it, letting out a crying moan as you insert your cock back in her already used-up hole. You go slow, letting her enjoy each thrust your veiny pole gives her pussy to the fullest. Ningning's tears suddenly turn into a smile as you show your love for her with faster and faster poundings.
"YES. YES. YES. YES. YES. YES." she wholeheartedly approves as you fuck her in front of the mirror, her high heels stomping the floor each time you hit deep in her pussy. "You're mine," you tell her as she closes her eyes and goes back to her beautiful screams, the image of her doing it in the mirror looking amazing. You keep telling Ningning she's yours as you grab her arms and place them behind her back, with her just trying to keep her balance on top of her heels.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Ningning screams the hardest as you treat her like a sex doll, fucking her like there is no tomorrow. Her body shakes, and she almost falls down. As soon as you stop, you turn her around and kiss her instantly. But you're very opportunistic, taking advantage of her passion and lust to drop her back to the floor like a ragdoll. "Lick your master's feet if you really love me," you tell her as your fetishes get sicker and sicker, and Ningning obliges, her body lying back on the hard floor as she worships your toes.
You once again do your favorite thing for her: drag her tiny body across the floor by her pretty hair. Ningning looks weaker than ever; you now have full control over her. You finally take her heels off, taking your turn to worship her feet. Amazingly, just like everything in her, they smell like roses. Ningning gets so excited that she shoves her left foot in your mouth, and you don't punish her for it; the deeper the better.
You wrap Ningning's legs around your neck and draw her body close to yours as she slides on the floor. You too continue to hotly kiss each other as she slides further and puts your cock back in her pussy, her ass frictioning against the floor as she moves up and down your shaft while giving little sexy out-of-breath moans to your face.
Suddenly, you take back control and hump your ass against the floor to fuck her. "Oh yes, oh yes," Ningning approves, as she has now nearly lost her voice. She no longer screams, only whispers. As you grab her neck, you give her more declarations of love while never losing sight of her tight pussy. "I love you, my little butterfly," you tell her as you wrap your arms around her leg and pound her pussy faster. As Ningning regains her strength to yell, you put your arms in her mouth. "Bite them if you love me," you demand. And she does all that while still letting out her classic muffled screams.
Ningning looks completely wasted and exhausted as she collapses on the floor. But she still wants your cock as she wraps her feet around your shaft and uses them to jerk you off. What a naughty girl. She just holds herself to the chair's legs and extends her body on the floor, moving those beautiful feet up and down that big cock. You just enjoy the perfect view of her tiny naked body while she does it, holding the urge not to shoot your cum all over it as her little footjob massage puts you on the edge.
"Fuck, yes," you approve of Ningning's footjob. But you need not lose sight of her as you push her back close to you and put her in a spooning position. "Come here," you tell her. Ningning's tongue is completely out of her mouth, indicating how tired she is. Her efforts to gasp for air make her tits move a lot as you just give her pussy some slow and deep pumps, waiting for her to recover.
"Finish inside me, please," Ningning begs as you lift her left leg and pound her wide open pussy. She starts cooing like a baby at each thrust you give her, harder and harder poundings. Ningning's pussy clenches all over your cock as she waits for you to coat her insides with cum. After nearly an hour of fucking this ice-cold beauty, you're now tired too, taking some pauses to hiss her and look at her beautiful but now super messy face.
You caress Ningning as tears of joy flow out of her eyes, tenderly placing your hands and running them over her now ultra-red skin. You go very slowly, letting her kisses heat you up. As you regain your strength to fuck her hard, she senses you getting closer: "YES, YES, YES, PLEASE CUM ALL OVER MY PUSSY," she screams. You detach a little from Ningning to take one final look at her perfect body as you grab her legs and attack her pussy at full speed.
"OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD," Ningning screams as her vaginal walls smash your cock, soon leading to your pulsating member finally giving in and filling her pussy to the brim. Her body shakes on the floor as your cum flows out of her hole, and both of you collapse after such an exhilarating hour of intense sex, staying there for a couple seconds. As Ningning finally manages to go back on her knees, you feed your still-hard cock into her mouth, balls deep. Her warm mouth and your insatiable desire for her make it explode again, filling her throat with your warm load as well. Ningning gets fully emotional and cries as you hug her and kiss her cum-filled mouth for one last time, which you hope isn't the last.
"Welcome to the Versace family, Ningning. But even better, welcome to my world," you tell her as the security staff tells you to leave. "Your time is up," they tell you.
Ningning takes a long shower and gets ready for the dinner. It goes perfectly. She leaves an amazing impression on the whole Versace family. They know what she did in that room. You have already briefed them. But Ningning is not aware of it.
The months go by. Versace gets even closer to her during Aespa's comeback, with her constantly wearing their clothes. But her promotion seems to have never come. That is, until she receives a notification from Donatella herself, telling Ningning she'll be their next global ambassador.
After so much effort, Ningning is finally one of the Versace superestars, and as she arrives at Milan Fashion Week, a familiar face is there to greet her.
"Meet your new personal photographer, Ningning. Well, I think you know him already."
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serpentandlily · 10 days
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Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader
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Lost in a Labyrinth Part II - Azriel x Reader
Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 
Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute, uncomfortable situations (nothing extreme)
a/n: thanks for all the love on the first part! Hope y'all like this one just as much!
➻❥ Part I
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Part II
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
“You look well rested.”
Cashmere winked at you from her seat in front of her vanity. She was brushing out her long hair, getting ready for the evening. You let out a sigh and plopped down at your own vanity in the dressing room. 
“I am,” you replied. “Someone bought out all my nights this month but no one’s shown up. It’s…strange, don’t you think?”
Cashmere shrugged, going back to looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Seems to me like you’ve got yourself a secret admirer.”
You began putting on your makeup for the night, not that you’d have any clients. But you were still expected to be in the Courtyard for a bit. “Secret, maybe, but they're definitely not an admirer. If they were, why wouldn’t they come get what they paid for?”
“Some of these Lords just throw their money around to impress us. I wouldn’t think too much about it, Serenity,” Cashmere said. You fought the urge to cringe at the fake name. “Consider it a vacation of sorts.” 
“Until Lydia finds out,” you snorted. “Then she’ll probably double book me.” 
“Just rub some kohl under your eyes,” Cashmere suggested. “Make it look like you’re still having sleepless nights like the rest of us.” 
“Not a bad idea.”
More girls walked in and you fell silent. Telling Cashmere about your current situation was one thing. You trusted her as a friend. But some of the other girls would likely pass on the information to Lydia and that’s the last thing you wanted. 
You finished your makeup before shrugging on a new lingerie set with a dark pink silk robe over it. You followed the girls to the Courtyard, ready to perform your nightly duties so you could retire back to your room for another peaceful night alone thanks to your mysterious donor. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Your vacation was short lived because the next day, Keir showed up and requested sixteen specific girls, your name included, for a party that was being hosted in Hewn City with some elite nobles. Even the High Lord and Lady would be present apparently. Not that you’d be allowed to approach them. Every time you worked these kinds of events, all the girls were given strict instructions on how to dress, what to wear, and what Lords to entertain. 
A dress was waiting for you in the dressing room. It was a long black dress that fell to the floor with two slits on the side to show off your legs. It was backless with a few thin straps that criss crossed on your lower back. Sitting beneath it was a pair of silver heels and on your vanity sat a matching silver jewelry set. 
You had to forgo your bra for the dress, likely the reason it was chosen. You did a sultry smokey eye and dark red lip for your makeup before you pinned your hair into a pretty updo to show off the back of the dress. 
By the time you were finished getting ready, the other girls were too. It wasn’t long before you were being led into the throne room. During parties like this, only the elite and those invited had access to this room in the castle. 
The ebony floors were polished, the carved pillars spanning so high you could hardly see where they connected to the ceiling. Various nobles mingled together, sitting on settees, smoking cigars, with glasses of wine and whiskey in their hands. 
The High Lord and Lady sat on their thrones on top of the dais at the front of the expansive room, dressed finely in all black with their crowns on their heads. Standing next to the High Lord was the General, the big, brutish Illyrian. Next to the High Lady stood the Shadowsinger, his eyes scanning the room. You’d seen the Shadowsinger plenty of times during the occasional trips your High Lord and Lady made to Hewn City. But that night he had walked through your doors in The Labyrinth, you had been taken aback by how beautiful he was. 
Memories of your night with him flashed through your head and you tried to fight off the blush and heat that started coursing through your body. Azriel had been a generous lover. Far more generous than your other clients, that’s for sure. He had actually cared about your pleasure. Not to mention he was the hottest male to walk through your doors.
It was a pity that he had disappeared so quickly and never returned.
“Alright, girls, you know what to do,” Lydia hissed at the group of you. “Do not embarrass me. Anyone who steps out of line will receive a new mark.” 
That was the last thing you wanted to do. You looked down at your hand, at the small tattoo on the inside of your ring finger. You only had two more marks left. Two marks and then freedom would be yours. 
You started mingling with the various Lords, pretending to eagerly listen to them brag about the most mundane things like their latest hunt or new investments. Servants meandered around, filling wine and whiskey glasses. 
When you were younger, you had accepted them like most of the other girls. Having a little alcohol in you always made the night easier. But you were going to steer clear of it—not wanting to jeopardize your progress with Lord Keir and Lydia. 
You started making your way towards the front of the room. You had to steer clear of the High Lord and Lady but the wealthier and more important males always sat near the front. And if you caught the attention of someone Keir wanted gone, that would be just an extra bonus to the money you’d be making off them. 
You were used to eyes trailing after you everywhere you went, but something else was tugging on your senses, making you feel not like you were being ogled at like always but watched. 
Your eyes darted around until they landed on a familiar pair of hazel ones. Azriel hadn’t moved a single step from his post but his eyes were on you. Your steps faltered for a second, taken aback by how intense his stare was. 
Was he scared that you would out him? Address him in front of his High Lord? He should know that you couldn’t. The same way he couldn’t mention anything that took place in the Labyrinth. 
Your name being called shook you from your thoughts. 
Your attention was pulled to a handsome male with long, white hair that matched his equally pale skin. Lord Thanatos’s golden eyes were running up and down your body as he sat sprawled in an armchair like it was the High Lord’s throne. He beckoned you to him with two fingers. 
Your heart dropped to your stomach as you had no other choice but to go to him. He was your least favorite client but he had a weird obsession with you. It was rare for him to choose any other girl in The Labyrinth besides you. You gave him a seductive smile, slipping into your role for the night. “How may I help you, my Lord?”
You let out a small gasp as he latched onto your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. The Lords around him all snickered. He brushed your hair to one side before whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be helping me a lot tonight, sweetheart.” 
Your insides shriveled up. Lord Thanatos was your least favorite client because of how rough he was with you. But he paid a lot of money so Lydia and the guards often looked the other way, only sending a healer into your room once he left. 
“I’m looking forward to it, my Lord,” you purred, resting a hand on his chest. You weren’t, of course. Not even because of the pain he’d inflict on you but more so because Lord Thanatos was Keir’s secondhand man and closest confidant. Which meant those two lines tattooed on your finger would still be there when you woke up tomorrow morning. 
Lord Thanatos went back to chatting with the various nobles seated on the couches and settees around him. If it wasn’t for his wandering hands on your body, you would’ve thought he was ignoring you. His hardening cock that was pressing into your backside had you shifting as much as you could to his thigh. You glanced around the room only to find Azriel’s eyes still on you. His fists were clenched, his face frozen with a hint of anger. Anger and something else that seemed suspiciously like longing. 
You shifted again in Lord Thanatos’s lap for an entirely different reason now. 
Cashmere happened to be walking by when Lord Thanatos grabbed onto her wrist and yanked her down to sit on his other thigh, forcing the two of you to share the small space. 
She giggled. “Two of us? Don’t tell me you’re getting greedy, my Lord.” 
You exchanged a small look with her. It didn’t happen often but sometimes clients wanted to take two girls at once. You preferred when you were chosen along with Cashmere, because you two were close friends which made it less awkward. 
“I think Serenity wants someone to play with,” he smirked, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 
“Anything for you, my Lord,” you smiled. “You know how much I love to please you.” 
He leaned back in his chair and tossed his arms behind his head like he commanded the room. “Go on then. Kiss.” 
You glanced at Cashmere who gave you a dip of the head so you reached forward and hooked some of her ginger hair behind her pointed ear before kissing her lightly. She tasted like cherry wine. You pulled back after a second and for some reason, your eyes caught Azriel’s. He was closer now, leaning on a pillar, wreathed in shadows—watching. He twirled his dagger in his hand with ease. 
“Oh come on, Serenity. Don’t play coy,” Thanatos laughed. “I know that mouth can do better than that.” 
Cashmere grabbed your face lightly, her eyes shining with a look that urged you on. You kissed her properly this time, caressing her face. This time the two of you gave the Lord what he wanted. But you could feel Azriel’s overwhelming stare still on you. 
It wasn’t until your lips were swollen and you were panting that you finally let up. You could feel your lipstick smeared all over and wiped it with your hand. 
“Oh, she’s made such a mess of me, my Lord,” you pouted. “Will you excuse me so I can fix myself up?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” he said, pulling Cashmere closer to him. “But don’t keep us waiting.” 
“Of course,” you said with a nod, rising from his lap. 
When you glanced at the pillar Azriel had been leaning on, he was still staring. It was a bit unnerving. You let out a shaky breath and quickly hurried out of the throne room and into one of the bathing chambers down the corridor. You rested your hands on the edge of the sink, staring down at the basin. You just needed a breather. Just a second to collect yourself. 
Not a moment later, you felt a prickling sensation on your skin and the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your head shot up and you left out a gasp as your eyes met a pair of hazel ones in your reflection. 
Azriel stood behind you, his shadows swarming him. 
You whirled around, backing into the sink. 
“What are you doing here!” 
Azriel took a step forward, out of the darkness. 
“You shouldn’t be here,” he stated in a low voice that had goosebumps rising on your skin. 
You crossed your arms, staring up at him entirely confused both by his appearance in the bathroom of all places and his remark. “Shouldn’t be where? In the bathroom?”
“No,” he growled, stepping closer. “You shouldn’t be here, at this party.”
“What do you mean? You know what I am. We were hired—” You cut yourself off as you had a realization. “It was you, wasn’t it? The one who booked up all my nights?” 
Azriel said nothing, gave no reaction other than his large wings twitching. You swallowed thickly and turned back around, away from his daunting stare, finding it easier to stare at him through the reflection on the mirror. You summoned your small clutch with some magic before pulling out your tube of lipstick. 
“Look, Azriel,” you began, starting to apply your lipstick. “You’re not the first male to feel ashamed after sleeping with me. If you’re doing this to absolve yourself from whatever guilt you have, consider it forgiven.”
Azriel stepped closer, his face darkening. “I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood my actions. I do not feel ashamed because I slept with you, angel. I’m ashamed that I made you sleep with me.” 
You shoved your lipstick back in your purse, turning around to face him. “You didn’t make me do anything. I knew what this job entailed when I signed up for it, okay?”
“But is it…is it what you want?” 
You shrugged your shoulders. “I can’t say it’s been a dream of mine. But it's a hell of a lot better than being sold off to some male and having all my freedoms taken away.”
Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, tousling it. “Those shouldn’t be your only two choices.”
“Well, take that up with our High Lord, Azriel, I don’t know what to tell you,” you sighed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my client is waiting—”
You went to brush past Azriel to the door but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“Don’t,” he breathed, “Don’t go. I know you don’t want to be with him. I could see it in your eyes.”
“I don’t have a choice, Azriel,” you snapped, trying to pull your wrist free. “So let me go.” 
“Sounds like you’ve already had all your freedoms taken away,” he bit back, his grip unrelenting. 
“You know nothing,” you argued. “If this is the one thing I have to sacrifice to keep all my other ones, then so be it. Besides, I’m almost—”
You cut yourself off, cursing in your head at your slip-up. No one could know about the deals the girls at The Labyrinth had with Keir. If word got out because of you…
“Almost what? What were you going to say?”
Azriel’s eyes were pleading with you, like he was hanging off every word that came out of your mouth. You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. “Nothing. Nothing, forget it. Now, please let me go. You’re going to get me in trouble with Lydia.” 
You tried to leave again but Azriel pulled you back. “I can’t stand to see you look so miserable with him. Please, let me help you. I paid for you tonight; I’ll go tell Lydia that I’m taking you back to the—”
“She won’t care. She’s just going to give you your money back,” you cut in. “Lord Thanatos pays a lot of money to have me. More than whatever you gave her.” 
“Then I’ll pay twice as much as him,” Azriel stressed. “Or whatever I have to in order to make sure he doesn’t end up in your bed tonight.” 
“I take my orders from Lydia. What she says goes.” 
“Fine, give me five minutes,” Azriel said with heavy resolve. “Just avoid him for now and I’ll sort it out.” 
You looked at him closely. “Why do you care?” 
“Don’t…don’t ask me that,” Azriel murmured before he disappeared in a whirl of shadows, leaving you stunned and confused. 
You left the bathroom finally, making your way back to the throne room. Your mind was screaming at you to go back to Lord Thanatos before you got in major trouble, but something else in you wanted to listen to Azriel. You had no idea why. You grabbed a champagne flute off a tray from a server and made yourself look busy near a pillar that concealed you from Lord Thanatos’s view. 
Five minutes passed and you were beginning to lose faith in Azriel, resigning yourself to the night with Thanatos when he stepped out of the shadows behind you. You let out a gasp of fright, spilling your full glass of champagne. Azriel grabbed the empty glass from your hand and set it on a table before taking your hand in his and guiding you away from the pillar. 
“I sorted it out,” he whispered under his breath to you. “But Lydia seemed…suspicious of my interest in you.”
“What do you mean?” You hissed back.
“She’s wary of you being a spy for the High Lord,” Azriel answered, quickly. 
You held back a laugh at that. “Then I guess we’ll have to make her think you’re interested in me for…other reasons.”
Azriel stopped and pulled you close to him, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Don’t get me wrong, angel. I am interested in you for all those other reasons, too.” 
A chill skittered down your spine and you looked up at him with a coy smile. “Good, that’ll make this easier than.” 
“Make what easier?”
“The show we’re going to put on for her,” you whispered.
Azriel’s cheeks turned a bit pink and you just knew you were going to have fun with him. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Azriel found an armchair next to some empty couches in clearsight of Lydia and sat down, spreading his legs apart in invitation and patting his thigh. His face was unreadable as you sat in his lap, tossing an arm around his neck and throwing your legs over his thigh, leaving them to dangle. He placed an arm around your waist, his hand lying flat on your stomach, and pulled you closer to him. 
Azriel leaned in, whispering, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“You won’t,” you replied, honestly. 
His eyes searched yours for a second before he nodded. You placed a hand on his chest, running your fingers over his leathers. “Aren’t these a little constricting?” 
His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “I’m used to them.” 
You hummed, your eyes darting towards Lydia to see her watching the two of you. “Well, I much prefer you out of them, shadowsinger.” 
Your words had their desired effect. Azriel’s chest rumbled with a quiet growl, his hand caressing your waist. You giggled, pressing a few kisses to his jaw. His scent of cedar and night-chilled mist seemed to envelope you. He gripped your dress in his fist, his entire body tense. 
“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered, lowly. “Anything.” 
“What do you want to know?” 
Azriel nudged his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His breath ghosted over your skin, causing goosebumps to spread. “Something real.”
You were never very forthcoming with your clients, always keeping your personal details secret and making up stories and lies to feed their curiosity. But something made you not want to lie to Azriel. 
“My name is Y/n,” you started, shifting closer to him so no one else could overhear anything said. His hand that was on your waist slipped to the exposed skin on your back, his fingers lazily trailing up and down. “I was born to a low-ranking noble and his bitch of a wife, my mother. I was going to be sold off like cattle to some Lord who had already gone through three wives—you can guess what happened to them—but my friend, the one you saw me with earlier, helped me escape.” 
Azriel’s grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against his hard chest. You melted into the heat of his body, the thin dress you had on did nothing to keep you warm. The hand that was on your back slipped to your thigh, parting your skirt so he could touch your smooth skin. Your heart jumped in your chest.
“Tell me their names,” Azriel growled into your ear. “Tell me their names and consider them gone.” 
You laughed, darkly, twisting your arm around his neck to stroke the hairs at his nape. “No need for that. They’ve been…taken care of.” 
Azriel’s other hand drifted up to your throat, grasping it lightly and tilting your head back so he could pepper his own kisses along your jaw and neck. Your breath hitched and you found yourself grinding down on him, gasping as you felt his hardening cock. Suddenly, none of this was pretend. Had it even been pretend in the first place? No…no, it hadn’t. You had been burning and burning for him since the night he had stepped into your room. 
“I’m sorry—” 
You turned to look at him and kissed him firmly before he could finish his sentence. He groaned as your lips met his and you pulled away entirely too soon, lingering only centimeters away. 
“I’m not,” you purred.
Whatever resolve Azriel seemed to have, whatever dignity of yours he was trying to preserve, all of it was forgotten in the moment. He lurched forward and kissed you again, his hand on your throat angling your head to his liking—the rings on his fingers were cold against your heated skin. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips, at the taste of him. 
His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you gave into the subtle request, parting your lips for him and deepening the kiss. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your thigh slipped dangerously close to the place between your legs that seemed to be begging for him. You’d never been so turned on in your life. The thrill of knowing eyes were on you and the feeling of Azriel consuming you caused your brain to numb all thoughts. 
His hand on your throat slipped down your side, his knuckles running along the side of your breast. You arched into his touch with a mewl and he answered with a small huff, his wings twitching. Meanwhile his tongue was still exploring every inch of your mouth, claiming you in a way that had you throbbing in his lap. 
Azriel pulled away, leaving you panting for air as he began to trail kisses down your jaw and neck again. His wandering hand landed flat against your stomach, pushing you farther into him until you were flush against his body, your legs falling open to either side of his thigh. Your half-opened eyes darted around the room. 
It seems Lydia had lost interest in the two of you but another set of eyes were on you. 
“The High Lord’s watching,” you murmured as he tugged on your earlobe with his teeth. 
“I don’t care,” Azriel growled, his mouth moving to nibble on the delicate skin of your throat.
“He’s not going to get mad that you're allowing yourself to be seen with Hewn City scum?” 
“Fuck him,” he snarled, biting down on your skin and causing you to gasp. He soothed the mark with his tongue before kissing his way up to your mouth again. “Stop talking about another male while you're sitting in my lap.” 
“Yes, sir,” you smirked before he kissed you again, his hips thrusting up into your backside. You groaned, your core rubbing against his thigh with his movement and causing a strike of lightning to flash through your body. The need for him was overwhelming. You’d never felt this way towards anyone. 
His hand drifted higher on your thigh, until his thumb traced the inner junction between your thigh and hip and felt the wetness that had started to spread there. A small whine came from the back of his throat that had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach. You pulled away from his kiss to stare up at him with lust filled eyes, his own full of hunger and craving. 
“Azriel?”
“Yes, angel?” 
“Get us out of here.” 
Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. His shadows engulfed the two of you and transported you to your room in The Labyrinth. You were on your knees before him not even a second later, overcome with the need to taste him, to touch him, to devour him whole. You pulled at the laces on his pants, your fingers working quickly. Azriel’s hand slipped into your hair, fisting your locks in between his fingers. 
“Angel, you don’t have to—”
“Azriel,” you cut him off, staring up at him with hazy eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” 
Before he could reply, you yanked his pants down causing his large member to spring up, already hard and leaking. You nearly groaned at the sight. He was so big, so big and thick. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against the head of his cock and he hissed, his fists tightening in your hair. 
You stared up at him as you took his cock in your hand and licked up his entire length. He let out a loud moan, tossing his head back at the pleasure. You smiled at the sight, your other hand sliding down your body between your legs, hoping to relieve some of the throbbing.
But Azriel growled and yanked your head back.
“Don’t you dare touch yourself,” Azriel commanded. “Only I get to touch you there.” 
If it had been any other male saying those words, you would’ve laughed in their face. But it coming out of Azriel’s mouth only made your throbbing intensify. You whined, but listened, grasping his cock with both hands and finally taking him in your mouth. 
“Fuck,” Azriel hissed, guiding your movement with his hand in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” 
Your thighs rubbed together at his praise and you continued to bob your head back and forth, swirling your tongue under his cock and running it along his veins. His hips began to thrust in time with your movement, his hand guiding you to take more and more of him in your mouth until he was fucking your face. 
“You’re taking me so well,” he moaned, thrusting into your mouth. “Good girl.” 
You choked, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. Normally you would hate a client treating you like this but with Azriel it felt different. Maybe because his rough taking of you was coupled with small words of praise and encouragement, urging you on.
“Just like that,” he groaned. “Fuck, angel, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock.” 
You whimpered, taking more of him until his cock was hitting the back of your throat. Your hands jerked the part of him you couldn’t take because of his unbelievable size. His groans and growls kept you going, kept the fire between your thighs burning. You needed him more than you needed air. 
Azriel yanked you away from his cock by your hair and you whined at the loss of contact. He pulled you up off the floor, his eyes nearly black with lust. “Take off your dress,” he ordered. 
You maintained eye contact with him as you quickly stripped yourself before him. The air around the two of you was intense, the need for one another so tangible. In this moment, you weren’t Serenity, the prostitute who worked here. But Y/n. The girl underneath the mask. 
“Get on the bed,” he demanded. “On your knees.” 
You scurried to the bed, doing as he asked. You were entirely exposed to him in this position, your arousal dripping down your leg. You could hear him taking off the rest of his leathers and waiting in anticipation until his hands fell on your hips, rubbing them softly. 
“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he murmured, one hand trailing up your back and gently moving your hair to one side so he could see your face. His cock rubbed against your folds, gathering your wetness. “Fuck and so ready for me.” 
“Azriel, please,” you begged. You could feel yourself gripping around nothing, needing to be filled by him and him only. 
“One day, I’m going to worship your entire body,” he grunted. “But I need you, angel. I need you right now.” 
“Please,” you begged again. “Take me. I’m yours.” 
Azriel slammed into you so quickly, it knocked the breath from your lungs. You moaned at the feel of him, at being stretched so thoroughly. He waited a moment, his breathing labored, allowing you to adjust before he slid back out and roughly thrust back in. 
“Say it again,” he growled, taking a brutal pace, slamming into you over and over again. 
You whimpered, “I’m yours.” 
“Again,” he snarled, his pounding into you causing the whole bed to shake. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intense pleasure. Your whole body was tingling at his touch, at his words. “I’m yours, Azriel. I’m yours.” 
One hand stayed on your hip to help keep you in place while the other slithered up your back and into your hair, fisting it again. He pulled your head back, exposing your neck as he drilled into you. Your back arched as you cried out at the feeling. You had already been so turned on, your orgasm was quickly building. 
“More,” you groaned. “More, Azriel, please.”
He growled and yanked you up by your hair, pulling your body flush against his. The new angle felt deeper, his cock brutally hitting you in that sweet spot that had you seeing stars. His hand traveled from your waist to your breasts, squeezing and caressing them. Your head fell back against his shoulder as your body arched into his touch. 
He released your hair to rub circles on your clit, leaving you both breathless and screaming. 
Your body was entirely his in this moment. He controlled every ounce of your pleasure, every cry that came from your lips. You had never reveled in giving yourself up like this before. Not until Azriel came. 
“Azriel…I’m gonna….I’m gonna,” you panted, the lewd noise of skin smacking together the only other sound in the room.  
“Be a good girl and cum for me angel,” he whispered, huskily, in your ear. 
His words pushed you over the edge and your orgasm slammed into you. Your entire body clenched around him as waves and waves of pleasure crested through you. Your vision went white hot with it. Azriel’s name fell from your lips like a Devil’s prayer. 
“Fuck,” he hissed, fucking you through your orgasm. Until you finally came down from your high, your body slumping in his hold. He let you fall to the soft bed, your face smashing against the cushions as he held you up by your hips. His rhythm became desperate, feral until he finally came, burying himself in you with a loud growl. 
You were both still panting as he slid out of you with a hiss and fell to the bed next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled your body on top of his, letting his wings stretch out. You laid a cheek on his chest, feeling safe as he wrapped both arms around you. 
“Don’t leave this time,” you whispered. 
Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I won’t.”
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
Three days later, you were sitting in Lydia’s office, your nightgown covered in blood, a numb look on your face. Keir was standing before you, leaning against her desk with his arms crossed as he sneered down at you. 
The burning on your ring finger was lingering, one of the tally marks gone. 
“Lydia tells me that the shadowsinger has taken a special interest in you,” Keir said, stroking his jaw. Your eyes remained distant, staring past him to the wall. 
The blood was still warm on your skin and you knew the body lying in your bed hadn’t even stiffened. You knew better than to talk during these meetings, allowing Keir and Lydia to converse with each other while you sat there. 
“Show me your hand,” Keir ordered. 
You lifted your arm, holding it outstretched to him. He took it, twisting it to see your ring finger.
“She only has one mark left, my Lord,” Lydia added from behind her desk. 
“I see that,” Keir said, letting your hand drop. “Your last target is the shadowsinger. Kill him and you will have completed our bargain and will be free to go.” 
Your heart dropped into your stomach, your eyes going wide as you finally looked at the male standing above you. “W-what?” 
“You heard me, girl,” he snarled. “Kill the shadowsinger and you’re free to go.”
Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. Kill the shadowsinger and you’ll be free to go. 
Keir’s words played in your head over and over again as you made your way to the bathing chambers to finally wash the blood of your latest target off you. 
Kill Azriel and you’d finally be free to leave this place. Finally free to take all the money you’d been saving up and leave this damned court to build a new life for yourself. The dream you’d had all along. Kill Azriel and your dream of being free would finally come true. 
Kill Azriel.   
Kill Azriel or…don’t and end up stuck here, lost in The Labyrinth forever. 
───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───
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