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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 1 year

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i've started watching the last leg because you speak so highly of it, and i'm obsessed. my current thoughts are:

-you're right, adam hills would be amazing on taskmaster. -i cannot believe they had boris johnson on. like. i saw it happen and yet its so bizarre to me. -adam and alex doing impersonations of josh made me choke on my sandwich laughing why are impressions of him always so funny -i've only seen josh on taskmaster and hypothetical, but the more i find out about him the more it feels like im looking in a mirror (english, short, unruly hair, scared of balloons, wearer of plaid shirts, strange hand gestures, sits on one foot etc) -adams many attempts at accents never cease to amuse me. i think my favourite so far is "i'm absolutely devasted... and slightly south african" from the greek financial crisis bit. -live shows normally make me anxious because you cant cut out awkward moments but i genuinely love when you can hear one of them (usually alex tbh) still giggling at a joke in the background even when they move onto another section. -i feel like now they've definitely gotten into their stride but i do miss the early series "what the hell are we doing" vibes (i really want to watch the og 2012 series but i get the impression that thats lost forever.) -i spent five series waiting for the sofa's awkwardly positioned armrest to catch someone out, thanks alan davies i knew i could rely on you to comically sit on thin air

sorry this is so long, i've completely fallen in love with this show and i feel like i could go on forever. anyway basically yeah thank you so much for making this show accessible and talking about it because now my entertainment is sorted for at least the next month.

This is an absolutely lovely message, thank you for writing it! First of all, never apologize for dropping something like this in my inbox (or ask box, or whatever). If you like something I like, I love hearing about that! If you like something like that and it’s because my blog got you into it, telling me that gives me all the fun of getting to talk about things I like, plus I love knowing this blog is helpful in spreading good things! Genuinely, that’s awesome.

Also, just in general, I am the last person to whom anyone should apologize for writing something that's too long. Every once in a while I'll see a post on Tumblr that's tagged "long post" and is shorter than my average one, and I remember that I was not built for the Twitter generation. I actually work as an editor in real life, where I make sure all writing is tightened up and concise, and then I come on here and do not give one fuck about that. I love seeing others do the same.

- With Franke Boyle already cast, Adam Hills may have moved into the number one spot as my dream Taskmaster contestant. Not because he’s my very favourite comedian who’s never done Taskmaster (I mean he’s up there, just not quite number one), but because of all the comedians who’ve never done Taskmaster, I think he has the personality that would be most suited for the format. And by “personality suited to the format”, I mean obsessively competitive, with a penchant for showing off at every opportunity.

- It’s hard for me to justify how much I enjoyed their Boris Johnson interview, because I realize that’s an actual issue. “Comedy washing” politicians by putting them on entertainment shows that make them seem more fun and palpable, and to raise their public profile. Boris Johnson in particular did a bunch of that for he rose through political ranks, the big one being Have I Got News For You. My best justification for The Last Leg’s Boris Johnson interview is that they were only in their second season when they had him on, a weird late-night talk show that hadn’t gained traction yet, so they can’t have contributed much to his publicity. But still, it’s something they’re guilty of in general at times. With other members of Boris Johnson’s family, and Sayeeda Warsi, Alastair Campbell, a few others. Now that I think about it I guess the interview that Alex Brooker did with Nick Clegg in 2015 counts as that, even though I thought that entire interview was very well done and I enjoyed watching it.

Disclaimer aside, the Boris Johnson episode was really interesting, though. Really weird that they got him on when they were so new to it, new enough so he raised their profile more than they raised his, which is kind of a defense from comedy washing. I loved watching the three hosts find different ways of responding to him. Adam Hills getting excited about the opportunity to try to show off journalism skills, which he sort of did okay but then messed up a few times. Josh Widdicombe just awkwardly looking from one of them to the other, like he couldn’t believe it was happening. And Alex Brooker just entertained that the man with funny hair from TV was in the room with them.

The Nick Clegg one was done better. I enjoyed the tension between the politician trying to seem fun among comedians, and the comedians trying to be intellectual enough to justify having the Deputy Prime Minister on their show, and both sides clearly having no confidence in their ability to do that to the other side’s standards. But Adam pulled him into some good back-and-forth, successfully hit a couple of things that he’d swung at and missed in the Boris Johnson episodes (to use a sort of clumsy sports analogy). And when they sat down for the actual interview, I thought Alex did a genuinely good job of asking questions well and making him respond properly. It’s still probably not good that it happened. But it did, and it doesn’t add to any damage done if you or I watch those episodes now and enjoy them. I don’t think Nick Clegg is exactly poised to make a big comeback on the strength of how human and engaging he seemed on that one episode of The Last Leg in 2015, and any comebacks from Johnson will not be fueled by that.

- Okay, sorry about the above paragraphs, I did not mean to go negative in a post about a show that I, by and large, very very much like. Josh Widdicombe impressions! Josh Widdicombe impressions are funny and do not in any way contribute to the collapse of British civilization! Have you seen this compilation of Josh Widdicombe impressions, put together by someone on Reddit? It’s really entertaining. Adam’s entire repertoire of Josh impressions consists of putting a hand on his hip and saying “Pret a Manger”, it’s great.

- The number of weird little things about Josh Widdicombe is a bit amazing. The leg sitting thing combined with the hand gestures. The inability to sing or do accents, but sometimes he gives it a go. The fear of anything that makes a noise. The plaid shirts are lesbian appropriation that I do not mind one bit. By which I mean it turns out my sexual orientation is "mainly attracted to women, can make an exception for men who look enough like lesbians".

- All of Adam Hills’ accents end up a bit South African, no matter how they start. Including when he’s imitating Australian people, and does a weird thing where he sounds like an English person pretending to have an Australian accent, and it still ends up South African. Also great.

- The element of their show being live does add to it at times. Especially in early episodes, when none of them were quite used to it yet. I used to be unnerved by how often it would feel like Josh was making eye contact with me, until I realized there was a screen right above the camera that showed what it was filming, and he kept self-consciously using it as a mirror. Fucking adorable. I mean all of those early episodes were adorable. Just Adam Hills desperately trying to capitalize on this chance of finally getting his own show and wanting to make it run smoothly and well, and Baby Josh and Baby Alex pretty much spent the first eight-ish seasons just like:

Oh, and I love how much Alex Brooker's inability to stop laughing on cue it on display in the live format. Which is also on display in this compilation, by that same Reddit person, which I'm sure you'd like if you haven't seen it. Highlights how sometimes a joke will just completely take Alex apart, and he doesn't seem to have a lot of control over how fast he puts himself back together, which can be a problem when Adam's trying to read the next autocue bit so the show can stay on schedule.

I've looked around for the London 2012 episodes before, and they may be lost to history. I am glad the Rio 2016 episodes were out there, though. Those are some of my favourite episodes of the whole show, they were all on top form during the actual Paralympics. It's too bad they had to change things for Tokyo; I hope they get to go to Paris and do that again.

- I miss the awkward impractical sofa. I hoped they'd have it back by now, having switched to a much more reasonable seating arrangement during COVID. Go back to being weird and impractical, guys.

Again, I'm really glad you've enjoyed it! This show has its ups and downs, and legitimate criticisms of it (from the same criticisms that could be leveled at any light entertainment/talk show that can be formulaic at times, to some more serious stuff, I was really unhappy with their post-queen death episode), but my God, it is so much fun! I just really, really like all three of those people, and that can carry the show through just about anything. Positive aspects of the show can also range from the lighthearted (three comedians with very good chemistry having fun together) to something deeper (they make fun of people lauding Important Disability Representation, and rightly so because there's a lot of inspiration porn bullshit that needs undercutting, but also, it is genuinely important disability representation, drawing attention to para sport athletes who otherwise wouldn't have mainstream coverage, and once in a blue moon we get genuinely touching moments related to that). The Last Leg at its best is this genre of TV show at its best.

Again, thanks for that, I will always be happy for an opportunity to talk about this show. And it makes me very happy to know I got someone else into it, that's awesome!

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frogtanii · 3 years

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℗ me and my husband

atsumu x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 3.2k (holy shit)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, v v soft domestic, marriage :00, smut!! (is marked off!!), soft dom!tsumu, hair pulling (giving), unprotected sex, slight praise kink, pretty vanilla ngl

an. can be read as a one shot but u might be confused lmfao also this took SO LONG OMFG also also heavily unedited, take things w a grain of salt lmfao anyways don’t forget to feed me ahaha m rlly proud of this so i hope y’all like it <33

it was moving day and atsumu was about to lose his mind.

today was the official day of the hyper house disbandment and while most of the members were still figuring out new living arrangements and thus remaining past the deadline, you were one of the few trying to get out as soon as possible.

makki and mattsun were so excited to have you move in, they showed up early that morning to help you pack. now, it was around 1p and it was almost time for you to go. you still had a few more boxes to go but things were speeding right along.

normally, atsumu would be right by your best friends helping you out but he was currently in the middle of a breakdown.

you were leaving. leaving. he had no idea when he’d see you again (even though you promised to meet up weekly to catch up), if he would ever see you again. for all he knew, makki and mattsun would just hide you away forever, never to be seen again.

okay, so he was panicking.

it was just... atsumu was in love with you. he’d known for a while (way longer than he’d like to admit) and he selfishly thought he’d have more time with you so that he could work up the courage to confess. but now? you were like three boxes away from a distance that he didn’t know if he or your relationship could recover from.

it wasn’t that he was bad at long distance but the tragic events that the house brought, brought the two of you closer together and he didn’t want to lose that.

atsumu let out a groan and dropped his head against the wall, his mind running with scenario after scenario, all ending in failure and utter embarrassment.

“hey, you okay?” you called out, a large box cradled delicately in your arms. as atsumu turned from the plaster in front of him, he allowed himself a moment to take you in.

you were wearing short athletic shorts, worn converses, and his t shirt. a thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, the lights above reflecting off of it, giving you a warm glow.

of course you looked hot moving boxes.

you called his name again in concern and he immediately felt his heart clench in guilt. you’d already been through so so much and here he was fantasizing about you instead of being there for you like a good friend would.

atsumu let out a sigh and shot you a wide, albeit empty, smile before walking over to you and taking the box out of your hands. the furrow in your brows told him you saw through his expression but he ignored it and made a show of lifting your box above his head and carrying it to mattsun’s car.

“see, what would ya do without these guns angel?” he joked, placing the cardboard into the trunk. you rolled your eyes and poked him in the side playfully. “die, probably.”

the butterflies in his stomach kicked up at the underlying sincerity in your voice but he tried his best to overlook it. it was much harder than it seemed, especially when you looked at him with such fondness in your gaze that made him want to kiss you senseless.

gulping hard, he quickly turned away from you, busying himself with fitting your things in the truck like a game of tetris.

“atsumu.” your voice was firm but pleading and he didn’t dare look at you for fear of spilling everything right then and there. “wow, ya sure got a lot of stuff, huh? wonder how much of this was bought with ushijima’s money,” he started to ramble but thankfully he was interrupted by makki whooping as he walked out of the house.

“last box bitches!” you shot atsumu one final worried look before running over to makki and mattsun, yelling the whole way there.

atsumu was grateful your back was to him because he couldn’t hide the affectionate look that overtook his face, a soft smile spreading across his lips as he watched you hip bump your friends while cackling wildly.

god, he was so in love with you.

what was he going to do when you moved out and away? what if you found someone, someone how loved you as much as he did (not possible)? he would wish for your happiness even at the expense of his own but... what if you both could be happy?

caught up in his thoughts, atsumu didn’t register you saying your goodbyes to the remaining members until you were finally in front of him.

“i’m gonna miss living with you tsum.” you unceremoniously launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. his heart leapt violently at the contact and he prayed to every deity above that you didn’t hear it underneath your head.

he barely managed to hug you back before you pulled away, your eyes slightly teary and red. “um, well, makki and mattsun are waiting for me so uh,” you trailed off looking back at the van and your friends who were so (im)patiently waiting for you to join them.

atsumu’s breath quickened as you scooted a bit away from him, truly getting ready to leave. no, no, it couldn’t end like this, awkward and distant. no, he wasn’t going to let it.

“atsumu?” you asked worriedly, reaching out a hand to touch him when he didn’t respond but he couldn’t hear you. he felt hot all over, like he was going to explode or magically combust if he didn’t get the words out into the air.

“tsum, are you oka-“ “i’m in love with ya.”

you paused, shock written clearly all over your face. the fear of rejection slammed into atsumu like a brick, the feeling settling in the pit of his stomach like a rock but he still didn’t stop.

“i’m in love with ya and i have been for forever. yn, yer beautiful but yer face and body aren’t even the best part of ya, even though they’re pretty damn great. yer just-“

“tsum-“

“-yer so kind, especially when ya don’t need ta be. yer badass but ya care fer others so deeply and ya make me wanna be a better person. ya make me a better person. i know ya-“

“tsumu please-“

“-ya probably don’t feel the same and that’s alright but i needed ta tell ya, before ya leave and fall in love with some other scrub, just in case we can be happy together and-“

all of a sudden, your hands were buried in his shirt and you were pulling him close to meet your lips with his, your mouths meshing together in a soft and passionate kiss.

bliss. atsumu was in sheer bliss. your lips were as soft as he thought they would be as they moved with his, his hands coming up to grip your waist and pull you even closer to him.

sooner than he would have liked, his lungs started burning for air so he pulled back but not very far, instead resting his forehead against yours.

“i was trying to tell you i liked you too, idiot,” you muttered, your eyes still closed as you spoke. he chuckled, a wide grin overtaking his entire face as he really took in what you were saying.

you liked him back. you liked him. holy shit.

but instead of saying any of that, he decided to tease you a bit. “just like? if i recall, i just confessed my undying love for ya.”

you pulled back with a faux scoff, hitting him in the arm with a huff. “shut up you ass. of course i love you too.” you couldn’t keep your real smile off your cheeks while you confessed, your soft expression bringing another wave of desire over atsumu’s body.

“can, can i take ya inside angel?” he allowed his true intentions to be heard in his words, your eyes widening when you figured out what he meant. you nodded vigorously before shooting a look to makki and mattsun. mattsun just waved you off and got into his truck while makki yelled, “get that dick!”

you heated up horribly, grabbing atsumu’s hand and pulling him towards the house and to his room. he allowed himself to be dragged along, sending winks to the other boys as he went until the two of you were standing right in front of his door.

“i love ya,” he whispered, lifting your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss there. you grinned. “love you too tsum.”

that must have been the final straw because the minute the words left your mouth, he was on you.

••• smut begin•••

pressing you up against the door, atsumu ravaged your mouth, his tongue tangling with yours as he walked you backwards into his room, laying you down on the bed so that he was hovering over you, his hips pressing hard against yours.

instinctively, you ground up into him, rewarding you with a loud groan and a gasp of your name. “fuck angel, yer killing me here,” he laughed breathlessly, rolling his hardness against your thigh. you let out a breathy moan and tangled your hands in his hair to bring him back down to your lips.

as you continued to kiss him, his hands scrambled at your waist, pushing his hands under it to grope at your chest. you giggled at the cold of his fingers but he didn’t pay it any mind, moving down from your mouth to your neck, sucking dark marks into the sensitive skin there.

“ah, shit tsumu,” you tilted your head to the side to give him more access, just as he reached under your bra to tease your nipples. a startled gasp left you, your back arching into his careful touch. “that feel good angel?” atsumu asked, voice low and gravelly as he pinched the delicate bud, drawing another noise from your throat.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. you bit your bottom lip while he pulled your shirt and bra off, tossing them somewhere in the room. as he scanned your half naked body, he noticed you quieting yourself and he lightly shook his head. his thumb found its way to your lip, carefully pulling it from between your teeth.

“wanna hear ya angel, let me hear yer pretty noises, yeah?” without letting you respond, atsumu dove back into your chest, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth while toying with the other, a sigh of his name sending a bolt of arousal straight to his loins.

he grinded against you absentmindedly, losing himself in you, eventually switching sides to give the same treatment to your neglected bud.

while atsumu seemed to be having the time of his life attached to your tit, you were getting impatient, your arousal completely soaking through your underwear. you needed more.

tangling your fingers in his blond locks, you attempted to tug him away from your chest but his reaction was unlike anything you could’ve expected. “aahh!” he let out a strangled whine, his hips bucking against your side.

“please, tsumu, need more,” you breathed, his needy reaction not lost on you as pulled his hair a bit harder. you were not disappointed as his eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a silent moan before dropping his head to your shoulder.

“fuck, fuck, okay angel, i got ya, i got ya.” atsumu swiftly disposed of both yours and his bottoms and underwear before lifting your leg and positioning himself at your entrance.

“tell me if i hurt ya, alright? i love ya,” he smiled down on you, your heart swelling two times at his carefulness. “i love you too,” you replied, watching as his pupils grew and a low groan broke free from his chest.

“oh angel, ‘m gonna ruin ya.” that was the last thing he said before he pushed into you, both of you letting out whimpers as he stretched you open, the blunt head of his cock just a few centimeters shy of your cervix.

your back arched in pleasure, both of your hands scrambling until they found purchase on his back, your nails digging in just when he started to thrust shallowly into you.

“f-fuck, how’re ya s-so fuckin’ tight?” atsumu growled through gritted teeth, every word punctuated with a roll of his hips. you couldn’t respond as you were too overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock rubbing against your g-spot with every slow movement.

speaking of slow, he was moving way too leisurely for your tastes. you needed him to move faster and you knew exactly how to do it.

sliding your hand up from his back, you grabbed a good chunk of hair from the back of his head and pulled. his reaction was immediate and oh-so gratifying.

an honest to god whimper poured from his lips and he instantly thrusted all the way into you, his length driving into your g-spot perfectly. you both let out twin moans as he started rocking into consistently, every movement bringing you closer and closer to your peak.

“i love ya, i love ya so fuckin’ much, angel—shit—yer so amazing, i love ya,” atsumu rambled while pounding into you, deep curses and whines of your name interspersed with his declarations of love. if you could speak, you would reciprocate but you were too busy holding on for dear life as he fucked you into oblivion.

desperate for some kind of anchor to reality, you grasped onto his locks again, gripping tightly as drawn-out cries of his name slipped from your open lips. you were close, so close and he knew it too.

“feel ya clenchin’ around me like a good girl, ya gonna cum fer me? gonna cum fer me angel?” atsumu’s hand snaked down between your bodies to rub fast circles on your clit, a shaky sob finding its way out into the open air.

“oh shit, yeah, ‘m g-gonna cum for you tsum, ‘s all for you,” you moaned, clamping down on him sporadically as you started to cum, your vision whiting out and your thighs trembling while you gushed around him.

your mind was floating off when you felt him cum with a shout, his warmth flooding you and spilling out as he collapsed onto your chest.

••• smut over •••

the two of you lied there for a while, attempting to regain your brain and feeling in your legs. you vaguely made note of the wet rag cleaning between your thighs and the following weight falling down beside you but it was only after a few more minutes that you really came back to yourself, rolling over to lay on atsumu’s bare chest.

“holy shit, tsumu,” you said in awe, your boyfriend (!!) laughing at your reaction. “i’m just that good angel, what can i say?”

you groaned and hit him in the chest but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face if you tried. “you are such a menace!”

“only fittin’ that i picked a gremlin ta be with then,” atsumu teased while playing with a piece of your hair. mock offense filled your chest as you sat up, fixing him with your ‘angriest’ glare.

“is that the kind of language you’ll be using in your vows, mister?” you were only joking but when atsumu’s eyes widened and a blush spread across his cheeks, you realized your mistake.

you opened your mouth to apologize or to make some kind of excuse but he beat you to the punch. “ya wanna marry me angel?” he asked, looking so vulnerable with hope shining in his brown irises. you couldn’t bear to lie.

“of course tsum, you’re it for me,” you reached out a hand to caress his cheek and he leaned into it, his own coming up to cup yours and hold it against his face.

“good.” and that was the end of that, that evening’s... extraneous activities having thoroughly tired to the point that you fell completely asleep with your face against one of his pecs.

if you had stayed awake a little longer, you would’ve seen atsumu pull out his phone and start a new note titled, “my angel.”

if i just said i loved you, it would be an understatement. it would be like saying the sun’s surface is just a bit warm or that the arctic is just a little chilly. it would be an injustice to you and to how i truly feel about you. love—

“-is a word that is much too soft and used far too often ta ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that i have in my heart for ya angel. ya acknowledge my strengths and ya accept my faults. ya make me wanna be a better person every day. so, today i vow ta laugh with ya and comfort ya during times of joy and times of sorrow. i promise ta always pursue ya, ta fight for ya, and love ya unconditionally and wholeheartedly for the rest of my life. ya are my best friend and i’m the luckiest person on earth ta call ya mine- wait are ya crying?"

the audience burst into laughter as you frantically tried to wipe away your tears, punching atsumu softly on the arm. “of course i am, you ass.”

the officiant cleared his throat, grabbing both of your attentions. “it is the bride’s turn to give her vows. if you may?”

you nodded and atsumu already felt like crying. again. he’d cried that morning while getting dressed and then again when you walked down the aisle in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. now, as he watched you pull a folded piece of paper out of your bra, he knew he’d made the right decision in confessing to you, all those years ago.

he also knew he was definitely going to cry again.

“atsumu, falling for you wasn’t falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing that you’re home. today, i want to make you promises that i will always keep. i promise to never stop holding your hand or accepting your kisses. i promise to not hit you too hard when you insult me or call me a gremlin. i promise to share my food with you, to never go to bed angry, and to try and understand your obsession with professional men’s volleyball. i promise to love, respect, protect and trust you, and give you the best of myself, for i know that together we will build a life far better than either of us could imagine alone. i choose you. i’ll choose you over and over and over, without pause, without doubt, i’ll keep choosing you.

i used to never truly enjoy moments because i was always waiting for what's next. the next thing horrible thing to happen. now that i have you, i enjoy the moment. every moment.

today seems like it's the start of a new journey, but i already belong to you. falling for you wasn't falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing you're home. i love you.”

and at least in this lifetime

we’re sticking together

me and my husband

we’re sticking together

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

earned it (3)

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. mentions of murder, explicit smut, oral (m. receiving), mentions of violence, TW dub-con, drama, drugs, mentions of virginity loss, dirty talk, unedited as always

series masterlist

Pained groans filled your ears, coating the dead silent night. Immediately, you sprang up awake, finding your husband clutching his knee beside you. You rushed to the bathroom to prepare an iced compress, helping him sit beside the bed. Naoya breathed heavily above you, his usually slicked back hair falling into soft bangs above his eyes. In this light, the fierceness of his face had smoothened down into that of vulnerability, fox-eyes replaced with a sort of tenderness that partnered his pain.

Looking down at the ragged scar running down his thigh to his knee, the gnarly scar popped from his otherwise flawless skin, you ran your hands over it. Naoya sighed as you kissed the scar gently, rubbing soothing circles over his good knee.

“Does it still hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted. Both of you enjoyed the comfortable silence after that, with you kneeling on the floor as you helped numb his pain, your husband’s fingers looped through yours. Minutes passed and soon, the sunlight streaked behind him from the floor length glass windows, illuminating your dark silhouettes in a golden glow. Naoya’s eyes flickered to the clock on your table, his hands squeezing yours for a fleeting moment. “It’s today. Are you ready?”

No, you wanted to say. You and him had prepared for this moment better than anyone else, and yet, you couldn’t ignore the tightening of your chest. Much like Naoya, you both held wounds that couldn’t be healed by time.

But Naoya looked at you expectantly, soft hands cupping your face as if he immediately read the worry written all over you.

You wanted to cry, wanted to stay in his arms and pretend nothing would go wrong, but you couldn’t do it. Not when he’d saved you countless of times before, and this was your only chance of saving him.

Naoya needed you more than ever – you had to stay strong from him.

“As long as you’re there, I’ll be ready for anything,” you smiled at him, feeling warmth spread all over your chest when he reciprocated the gesture. You liked it on him; he always felt a lot more youthful every time he smiled. Reaching up to kiss his forehead, you trailed your lips down to the ring adorning his fingers to look him straight in the eye. “Always?”

Naoya nodded as a promise, “Forever.”

Your hands treaded through Satoru’s locks, his lips sweet and tender as he tasted you. It had been a few months since your arrangement began, and slowly but surely, little by little, you were growing more comfortable with him. There was still that voice at the back of your head screaming that maybe this was wrong, this was dangerous; you didn’t know him very well – but these thoughts slipped away the moment you felt his lips on yours.

If it was wrong, why did you fit in his arms so right? He felt like home; peaceful, secure, strong and stable. If it was dangerous, why was your heart at peace? If you didn’t know him very well, why did it feel like had always been there, a fragment you’d been unknowingly waiting to build you up in all those lonely years you walked this earth?

You’d definitely underestimated him. The cocky and smooth customer turned out to be the most caring person ever, his kindness showing through the fact he’d never pushed you for anything.

Making out with him was now a daily occurrence, though you never got past the first base. Sure, there would be teasing touches under your shirt, your curious hands trailing over his pants, but it had never escalated into more than that. You could tell Satoru was holding back; the painful tent in his slacks enough proof of this. His hardened cock rubbed against the thin material of your shorts as you grinded against him, earning a harmonious man from the man who’d gotten so addicted to worshipping you.

“Satoru, hmm, baby,” you stopped kissing him, turning to look at where his hands gripped at the flesh of your thighs. A thin thread of spit connected your lips from your heavy make out session, though your mind felt dazed, core burning at the friction. If you could just...

Satoru easily caught on the words bit down your tongue, his calloused hands caressing your cheek to coax it out of you. “What is it, angel?”

“I…Can I try something with you?”

“What is it?” he tapped your cheek, a sweet smile on his face when you groaned in embarrassment, head buried in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay, don’t be shy.”

“Well, you’re always making me feel good and I know you’re holding back so I just wanted to…”

“Wanted to what, angel?” he pulled you back so he could look at your face, his usual teasing grin now hardened into a serious expression. Satoru had always been adamant to put your comfort above all else, his voice dropping an octave lower as he massaged your thigh. “I can’t know if you won’t tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, you managed to look him in the eye, squeaking out, “I want to make you feel good too.”

Satoru’s brows dipped down. “Angel,” he said, that saccharine nickname dripping like honey from his lips. Did he even know how much effect he had over your heart? Apparently not, because Satoru swooped down to steal your breath away, pressing his lips harder to reassure you he respected your limits. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you insisted, hands fisted on his shirt. “Want to taste you.”

Satoru opened his mouth to speak, but you were faster, and for the first time in his life, he did not see something coming. His back hit the wooden headboard as you crawled down on his lap, tugging his pants down to palm the erection bulging from his boxers. His groans were deeply masculine, so fucking sexy coming from him that you rubbed your core against the sheets in desperate search for friction.

Your hands fumbled for his boxers until you completely pulled it down, gasping when his thick member slapped at his toned stomach. His muscles clenched above you, thighs quaking from your ministrations.

Truthfully, you had not the slightest idea of why he seemed so aroused when you were inexperienced at this. You had to keep sending him nervous glances as you placed a tentative grip at the base, thumb swiping the pre-cum away from his tip. Satoru’s head fell back on the pillows, strings of curses spilling past his lips. Fuck, you had no idea how to do this; you just hoped it could be good for him. Deciding to hell with it, you slipped the throbbing member inside your lips, his reaction reflexive.

Satoru fisted the sheets under him, hips thrusting up. The action caused him to buck deep into your mouth until he hit the back of your threat, tears springing at your eyes. You wanted to pull out to breathe until you looked at Satoru, and fuck, did your mind change.

“Goddamn, angel!”

Your boyfriend looked absolutely delectable like this – shirt crumpled and eyes snapped shut from the pleasure. His cock burned in your mouth, and purely out of curiosity, you swirled your tongue around his vein just to see his reaction. Satoru’s blown out pupils met yours the deeper you took him in, his arm reaching out to fist at your hair. It wasn’t painful – he never hurt you even if sometimes you wished he could go a little rougher – but you were determined to evoke more of those pretty moans from him, fighting back the tears that blurred him from your sight.

Your throat would burn like a bitch by the end of this, though that no longer mattered when his composed self fell apart bit by bits. Gosh, you loved him so much; you could keep him in your mouth forever if that could express it.

Satoru moaned the instant you hollowed your cheeks around him, pushing his hands away that moved to hold you. You didn’t want to be romantic; you just wanted to make him cum.

He saw your determination to push you over the edge that he let go, slipping his fingers through yours instead. It shouldn’t have felt so domestic when you sucked him off good, but nothing had never felt more right. You pulled him off with a pop, licking all around the base to coat his cock with his cum and drool. His groans painted the room and he wouldn’t stop squirming underneath you, dulcet low moans so, so addicting.

Other than his moans, you were also addicted by the taste of him. You flipped your head at a different angle before you took him in again, flattening your tongue on the base and making sure to poke hard on the veins. He had a fucked out grin as his knees bucked beside him, his hands keeping you flat on his head.

“Yeah, angel,” he gritted his teeth, “That’s so fucking good.”

Was he coming?

You had no idea, having never done this before. For now, you just wanted to repay all the kindness he’d shown you by sucking him off good that he’d never forget you. You probably cursed him then, conditioned this man into being so addicted to you that he would never even think about leaving.

The mere thought of that had you choking on his cock, driving him back deep your throat. Your nose came in contact with the neatly trimmed hairs on his base as you gagged on his length, nails dug deep into the linen sheets beside you.

One thrust, two more – his cock twitched, then he came. “Right there, angel, fuck!” he spilled inside you, pulling out just in time for the rest to smatter all across your face. You drew back just as his semen painted your face like he was the artist and you were the canvas, and you didn’t think you’d ever felt so majestic in your life. Satoru gripped his cock to smear the contents all over your face, on that day giving you a hint just how much of a kinky little shit he really was, but you let him – because you loved him, and you’d do anything for the one you loved. As you sat there licking away the cum sprayed on your face, he tugged you upwards for a kiss.

You leaned away, thinking he could be disgusted by the bitter taste flowing down your throat, but he paid no mind. He kissed you hard and deep, effortlessly flipping both your bodies until were trapped underneath him, cornered by the love pooling in his eyes. You stared up at him with that same adoration, albeit more hesitant, the pounding in your heart incredibly loud.

You were falling fast – way too fast – that you couldn’t comprehend what would happen if this ended. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if you were still just a baby girl? Were you mistaking his post orgasm bliss with something else, were you getting too ahead of yourself?

Satoru nudged his chin on your neck, his lips hovering right before your ear. You could hear each ragged breath, your attention zeroed in on the deep, long cut that ran on his back. Not really aware of your actions, you slipped your hand downwards to trace the ragged flesh. Satoru hissed above you, his weight nearly crushing yours as he pulled you in for an embrace far too intimate for an agreement purely on casual fucks and company.

At least, that had been your belief, until – “I think…I’m falling for you.”

You didn’t remember any time you had cried harder, the sobs wreaking your chest desperate and pitiful. Satoru kissed your tears away, each peck of his lips translating to a thousand more i love you’s that healed every crack in your soul.

You held him close then, chest to chest, hearts beating above one another. Perhaps it was too early, but you loved him – excruciatingly so it scared you deep to the bone.

“Me too,” you cried, “I love you – I love you, I—”

“Shh, angel,” he cooed, his hands now trailing down your hips. He gripped at it, his cock once again hard as it teased your entrance. You knew what was to come next, and you squeezed his bicep in anticipation, both fear and anticipation exploding through your nerves. Satoru gazed at you warmly as he read the multiple thoughts running in your head, foreheads pressed into one another as he asked, “Can I show you? Do you trust me, angel?”

“Yes,” you answered in a beat, “A million times yes.”

“I’ll show you then,” he laced his fingers through yours, a lopsided grin so impossibly handsome you just fell harder for him. “I’ll show you how much I love you. I’ll make you feel it deep ‘til you never think about anyone else but me.”

Had he failed then? Had he not shown you enough how much he loved you?

You were the same, but the person standing in front of him seemed so impossible to be you, as well. Your once sweet smile had been replenished by a perfectly practiced one, the taut tightness of your lips and the faux charm so sickeningly sweet.

But it wasn’t what he hated the most. It was the fact he was there, holding you right where Satoru once used to, kissing you right on the lips Satoru used to ravish all by himself.

He didn’t know what he was feeling. Anger? Jealousy? Hatred – upon himself or upon you?

He didn’t know, couldn’t understand anything, that he brushed past Suguru’s equally stupefied face and found comfort in the back part of the cruise. Satoru had lost count of the drinks he’d taken from the waiters who had began to look worried, but he didn’t give a fuck. The image of you comfortably situated by that bastard’s side of all people stirred something dark within his chest. Satoru stared out into the dark ocean instead, dumping his drinks with a scoff.

What a fucking joke, he laughed at himself. He believed leaving you would mean protecting you, but life had a funny way of playing its part.

“Mr. Gojo,” an all-too familiar voice, one that was much too sweet and golden for his liking, caught his attention. His eyes slid over to your form, his jaw clenched at how empty your eyes seemed. There was no spark, not a trace of the light he had always loved, and not a sliver of warmth that never failed to melt his heart. It almost felt like it wasn’t you until your perfectly manicured nails rested atop his shoulder, all elegance and grace in your steps – just as he’d expected from the infamous Zen’in wife. “My husband, Naoya, wishes to speak to you.”

Husband. So you really married him.

You spun away from him with a salacious roll of your hips, and just like that, Satoru snapped. This was you, this had to be you – except it scared him shitless this time around because you were the one walking away from him.

It reminded him of the day he left you, dread sinking deep into the pits of his stomach. Satoru reached you in two long strides, spinning you around until you nearly collided on his chest. You glared at him so harshly he might’ve burned to the ground but god, this really was you and he fucking missed you – so badly that his suit felt impossibly tight he couldn’t breathe. You were still warm against him, soft in the places he was hard, and you were, you were there.

You came back to him.

“Angel,” his voice cracked, “I know that’s you, please—”

But your grip was ice-cold, eyes shooting daggers at the offensive hand on your shoulder. “Let go of me before I shoot your arm off, Mr. Gojo,” you sneered at him, the tension attracting the attention of other guests. Satoru could feel it; the burning gaze of passerby’s who’d stopped in their chatter to spectate the scene. “Just because you are invited, doesn’t mean you get to be too comfortable with me. You and I are not friends, much less acquaintances. Let me go.”

It’s over, his own voice screamed back at him, Let’s go.

Right. He left you, and it made sense you couldn’t stand to be around him. With a broken heart, he removed his hands on you, ignoring the slight scoff following afterwards. Satoru trailed after you like an obedient puppy as you led him inside a narrow hallway, unsurprised as two burly guards slid the double doors open.

Inside the grand room sat your husband himself, his good leg perched on top of his bad one. He was in the middle of his drink, cockily clanking the ice against the glass. His cane perched on the other side of the sofa, just out of it’s owners reach.

Satoru wanted to punch his stupid face but held back as you quickly seated beside him, possessive hands on top of his thighs. He took the seat across the both of you, his lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by the turn of events. Though the ocean reflecting the beauty of the moonlight gleamed terribly divine that night, and you illuminated even more radiantly than ever, Satoru felt no entertainment, no joy – just pure hatred.

“Gojo Satoru, the Six Eyes himself. It’s an honour to meet you.”

“You met me before,” he responded stiffly, expecting that Naoya would crack the same way his fucked up father would. But no, he was by far worse, the young man tipping his head back in laughter as if Satoru said the funniest thing.

Beside him, you buried yourself deeper into his arms, absentmindedly sniffing Naoya’s perfume before your shoulders visibly relaxed.

It was clear you trusted this man with your whole heart, though Satoru couldn’t make sense of the attachment. Why him? How did you meet him? Was it right after he left you? How did you wound up in the world he tried so hard to keep you away from? On reflex, Satoru’s need to protect you never wavered even after years, and his gaze trailed down each inch of your exposed skin to look for scars.

Nothing. Not even a single sratch.

And as if feeling his gaze on yours, you smirked back at him smugly, that damned smile reminding him that your husband was more than capable of – what he couldn’t do – protecting you. It was such a harsh slap to his face because Satoru was most evidently the most powerful man in the room; he had more connections, had been in this world long before he walked, had more experience and bloodlust than anyone else, and yet...he couldn’t keep you.

“Indeed, and it wasn’t such a great experience, was it?” Naoya’s voice kept droning on, waving a slender hand in the air. “This is what this party is for. I hope to alleviate any tensions my father may have caused between other clans,” he nodded at the untouched drink in front of Satoru, “Please, enjoy yourself. I only wish to discuss something about Xenet with you.”

“Xenet? You mean the drug your family tried so hard to keep to yourselves?”

“Yes, that. My father…was too prideful with his creations. He didn’t want to share what was his,” Naoya smirked to himself and leaned back into the chair, with you following the motion. Satoru fisted the couch so hard he might as well break it, unable to tear his eyes away from the comfortable way you rested on Naoya’s chest, blinking up innocently at him as you did so. Your husband paid you no mind, seemingly way too used by your affectionate gestures that he continued, “But I am not my father. I care about good connections and profitable business. I think if you’d let us borrow your manufacturing base in Osaka, we could supply you with Xenet to last a decade. Free of interest.”

“And what makes you think I want to have your little drug? It’s just an ecstasy pill.”

“That’s what we want you think,” you piped in, keeping your gaze averted from Satoru’s, shooting little kisses down your husband’s jaw instead. “Xenet is no ordinary drug. It was made with the intention of just making more bougee version of aphrodisiacs and poppers at first, but we found a much more…offensive approach to this,” you trailed off, eyes glistening with mischief.

It was alien – the look on you didn’t feel right. You had changed; his angel was no more.

“Xenet, once manufactured publicly, could even help us grow richer with how affordable it is. Other than the side effects of increased sexual drive and giddiness, it’s also strong enough to be a ticking time bomb,” you announced proudly, “Consume two a day and you might die from a heart attack.”

“So it’s a failed pill.”

Your eyes narrowed at his implications, reminding him that even though you may no longer be his, one thing had not changed: you were still that top student in your Chemistry class. How else could you have saved him from getting poisoned on that day? But now, you used your intelligence differently, marrying mafia leaders, creating drugs.

“I did not create failures.”

Satoru should hate it. Hell, it was wiser to steer clear from you, yet you’d never been more alluring. Your innocence and vulnerability from when you were younger had definitely aroused him in more ways than one, his mind often occupied with the different ways he could get you to cry for him. However, this version of you, the one who had risen from the ashes and flew around like a magnificent surrounded by your own burning flames – it would be a lie to say he did not find himself fascinated by your maturity.

Seven years really changed you.

“You mean to tell me,” he leaned forward, “That you’re basically asking to borrow my base so you can make suicide pills? Is that it?”

“Xenet is only dangerous when consumed in larger doses. But taken regularly, it actually boosts your health, clears your mind. It’s like a super vitamin. It makes you feel…well, on the top of the world. Makes you feel powerful.”

“Death is not the catch,” Satoru concluded from Naoya’s lilting tone, glaring at suspicious man who was staring at his drink in so much glee. He really was fucked in the head – what did you like about this guy?

“What’s your true reason behind this?”

“I want my relatives dead,” Naoya deadpanned, “Before we turned to illegal business, the clan stocks were debated to be passed either to me, or my cousin, Toji. He’s changed his name to Fushiguro now and even had a kid, but he can’t hide forever,” he lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug, and finally, Satoru started to see glimpses of Naoya’s psychotic father through his eyes. Naoya grinned at nowhere in particular, rubbing his hand over the matching rings you wore, the sinister grin he wore uncannily similar to something Satoru had witnessed years before, though he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. “He’s not going to take what’s mine.”

Satoru scoffed, “Why do you think I would be interested in your family issues?”

“Because that cousin of mine is the only one who’s ever gotten successfully close into killing you,” Naoya snickered, “Remember? Shibuya, 2007? He was still inexperienced that time too. We don’t know how powerful he is now.”

“That fucker went after me for no reason.”

“Money is always his reason,” Naoya explained, “You see, my father was not the real clan leader. It was Toji’s father, my uncle, but he died of lung cancer and my father invited himself to the throne. He wanted everything to be ours, so he kicked my cousin out, leaving him nameless and penniless on the street. He was desperate to survive and—”

“—and became an assassin instead,” Satoru finished for him, to which both you and your husband nodded. You were taking your trophy wife duty seriously; keeping in mind to never interrupt your husband as he spoke. Satoru did his best to not pay too much mind to you, focusing on the looming threat of Toji Fushiguro present. “Let me guess, he was sent to kill me, failed miserably, and now he’s after your money? Why would he be interested in taking the mafia business when he seems fine enough being a hitman?” Satoru urged, “He looked like he enjoyed it.”

Much to Satoru’s surprise, Naoya slammed his glass down on the table, slapping his knee as he howled in laughter. “You are really as humorous as they say, Mr. Gojo.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“Because from what I heard, Toji did not fail miserably,” you mumbled through Naoya’s neck, that grin of yours mocking as your lips trailed down his skin. “The scars on your back – you almost died that day if you weren’t saved by your guards, didn’t you?”

Oh, Satoru mused, two could play this game.

“And how’d you know I have scars on my back, sweetheart?”

Knowing he had you cornered, you scowled. You turned away from him and clutched Naoya’s biceps to soothe your wounded pride, but Satoru knew he’d most definitely hit a nerve. It was low, utterly petty of him, to be exact – but he didn’t care. Right now, his determination to win you over just grows stronger, but Naoya merely chuckled at your exchange, the fucker maintaining his eye contact with Satoru’s while kissing the top of your head.

“Darling. Don’t get too worked up. He’s a friend now.”

“Said who?”

“Said me,” he announced confidently, “My cousin may be ruthless, but he’s not as heartless as I am. He’ll do anything he can to sneak his son within the family ranks and make him clan leader. Toji may be fine living in the streets, but he wouldn’t want the same fate for his son,” Naoya rolled his eyes boredly, “He loved his pathetic wife so much that he’s burdening himself with the promise of securing their child’s future. He’s not going to stop until he finds me.”

“And where do I fall into all this?”

“Toji can’t kill me,” Naoya brought to light, and Satoru noticed the faint change in your face. You looked grim, empty faced from anxiety. “Nearly 40% of our all our money – including where our gold is stored – you do remember stealing that, don’t you?” Satoru shook his head, too distracted by your sudden silence. “You made the mistake of taking what was not yours, Mr. Gojo. It may have been just a disposable slush fund to you, but everything that account had, those were all Toji’s last remnants of his wife before she died. He kept all those money for his family, and you took it away from him,” Naoya leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, smiling through the drink he downed in one go. The sound of the glass setting down on the table was much similar to a final judgement – the dilemma hitting Satoru right in the face.

“Now unless you cooperate with us, I can’t guarantee you’ll be living for the next ten days. He’s in Tokyo right now, and from word on the streets, he’s looking for the Six Eyes.”

“I don’t have that money with me.”

“Right, because you transferred it to my wife seven years ago, right?” At his words, Satoru froze, peering at you for confirmation. However, you’d made yourself smaller, almost shaking while different memories replayed right before your eyes. Satoru wanted to come and wrap you in his arms, to tell you it’s okay because he couldn’t understand why you were trembling so much, but Naoya’s taunting felt too loud and clear. “You wouldn’t want her to die now, would you? It’s going to be a tragic story of Romeo and Juliet, two fallen lovers sharing their last breaths,” he added bitterly, “That account wasn’t activated, you fucker. Everything may be wired to her, but she can’t open it unless you complete the authentication. Now do everything I ask of you and—”

“Naoya,” you finally snapped, “Don’t.”

“Is it true?” Satoru pressed, feeling his heart crush harder in his chest. “You never got the money?”

Your face said it all. “I didn’t.” So it was all for nothing – Satoru had left everything for naught. This whole time, he thought he was doing the right thing, but it was nothing, fucking nothing, utterly useless.

He left you for no valid reason.

“Why my drug base of all places?”

“It’s the biggest running establishment. Besides, you’re a lot more influential and richer than I am. No one would dare step a foot inside while I take over the business, hm?” Naoya challenged, “Xenet’s side effects also include languidness that leads to submission. I simply want to have more control over my people.”

“You’re going to manipulate this entire fucking country.” It wasn’t a question – Satoru had really made sure this guy was fucked in the head, and he thought he was awful.

“I’m not that different from my cousin,” Naoya retorted, “We’d both do anything for money.”

“And you’re using your wife as a pawn to your sick game?”

Naoya remained unaffected by Satoru slamming his palms down on the table, standing in his full height in an attempt to intimidate him. However, your husband merely raised a brow, taunting him with a smirk. “Was I the one who caused her hell all these years by making her a target to all your rivals?”

Things escalated faster than you saw it. One moment, you were cuddled with your husband, the next, Satoru had him by the collar. Naoya refused to show the pain from when his bad knee bumped into the table, enraging the taller man with his endless goading of how Satoru threw you to the side for nothing, calling him useless, pathetic, weak. You stood in front of both of them and pushed Satoru hard enough he fell back into the seat, glaring at you from where he fell. “That’s enough!” you bellowed, protectively encasing Naoya in your arms to steady him. His grimace told you he was in a lot more pain than he let on, and you snatched his cane to the side, screaming at Satoru with so much anger it shook the walls. “Fuck you, Gojo! You need to leave!”

“You’re fucking sick,” he spat at Naoya, “You’re a thousand times worse than your old man. You’re just using her to protect yourself, you fucking coward—”

Your palm resonating with his cheek stung. Satoru was rendered silent from the burning sensation on his face, the flesh still hoarse while you shook in anger. “Don’t you fucking dare speak to him like that.”

“Why are you with this guy?”

“As opposed to being with you?” your anger thundered, “You need to leave, Satoru. I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“Escort him out,” said Naoya as he caressed his knee from the couch. His voice did wonders in calming you down, those three simple words for him regulating your breathing. As if a switch had been flipped inside you, you grew demure, exchanging a thousand words with your husband in just one glance. “You and I will talk later.”

Just like that, you gripped Satoru by the arm and pushed him out the door. He would’ve been happy by your touch, but your nails dug so deep in his suit he actually hissed.

You both didn’t talk until he’s made it through the speedboat that he came in, Suguru already giving you privacy with his back turned. Not that it would change Satoru’s behaviour much because he’s weakened by you again, eyes pleading as he caught your wrist. “Angel,” he whispered, his demeanor far too pitiful for a powerful man like him. Only you – only you could make him this way. “Are you really happy with him?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” you answered, effectively breaking Satoru for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Because he loved you, and with loving you came knowing you – he knew there was no lie behind your statement. “I’ve had a taste of hell before, and now I’ve found bliss in my heaven.”

“You’re lying,” he tried to convince himself, shaking his head to get rid of the pathetic tears. “That’s not true, you said you loved me – that’s our promise, right? I’ll get you back, angel. I’ll protect you this time around I – I’ll do everything I wasn’t able to do before. Please. I need you back.”

“Good luck with that, Gojou,” you smiled, but nothing about is happy. In fact, you looked hopelessly, perhaps just as devastated as him. “Time is ticking. One of us is going to die soon.”

It had been three long gruesome days since that fucking cruise party. You were glad to have finally returned home – and yes, you did have a happy home now – but it just felt different when the spot beside you was empty.

You flopped down on your king-sized bed, legs kicking up in the air as you talked to Naoya through the phone. He had business to attend to overseas, leaving you all alone in the Zen’in Estate because he was going someplace dangerous. Though you assured him you could handle yourself just fine, your husband wasn’t having any of it. He shut you up with a kiss and left not long afterwards, so now you had to settle for hearing his voice.

“Have you arrived?”

“Yeah, plane just landed,” his voice that turned gentle only for you crackled through the other line, sounds of shuffling and clinking heard before he spoke again. “Are you in bed already?”

“Hm.”

“Bet you look so fucking pretty right now,” he teased, “You gonna touch yourself at the thought of me while I’m gone, princess?”

“You know my fingers could never compare to your cock.”

“You’re so dirty,” he chuckled back, and your laughter mingled. It was so easy to laugh with him through mindless conversations to kill the time; the two of you acting like the world around you wasn’t burning. “When I get back from Shanghai, I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

“If you do that, I won’t be able to hang off your arm prettily in your events.”

“We can always cancel them, princess. I don’t mind spending the entire weekend in bed with you.”

“Naoya, stop,” you buried your face in the pillows, giggling like a schoolgirl while your husband chuckled. You could hear him ordering his favourite drink to the stewardess and for a moment, you grew jealous, thinking that maybe his servants would be pretty. Then, you remembered – Naoya hated every human being in this world with your exception – you had nothing to worry about.

“You like it when I talk to you this way,” he mused, and you made no move to deny. “So about our anniversary—”

You lifted your head from the pillow as you heard the bell ringing, which was odd because it was half past midnight already. Most of the servants had long retired into their quarters right now, the entire estate on heavy lockdown too. The only person who could arrive was probably a special parcel, and you eagerly hopped off the bed, tying your silk nightgown to make yourself modest. “Oh, hey, I think my package arrived. Someone’s ringing.”

“Is it the Louboutin I got you?”

“I hope so!”

“Have fun dressing up then,” you could hear Naoya’s smile, “Send me photos okay? No undies.”

“No undies!” you agreed, swiping end call before you rushed to the front doors. Gosh, one of the worst things about living in a manor was that you had to take three flights of steps down, the lights in the servants’ wing already turned off so you had to open it yourself. “I’m coming!”

Taking a few seconds to compose yourself, you swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

taglist OPEN: @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @friedghostspyathlete @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @greysoulthings @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn

ALSO GUYS!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ANON WHO MADE THIS NAOYA X READER DOODLE IM CRYING SO MUCHHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH I AM LEGIT SPEECHLESS LIKE YOU GUYS? ARE? AMAZING?! ANYWAYS I FINALLY FINISHED THE ENTIRE PLOT OF THIS SERIES AND WELL...I mean, I hope you guys are excited for this as I am, hehehe!! I take back my former note that this was going to be angsty. I think this is more of drama tbh but we’ll see how it goes! (side note...IM IN LOVE WITH THIS FANART PLEASE.)

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lipstickstainz · 3 years

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true lies - s. r. (1/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: Spencer and you have your first encounter, after you left him a year ago. Spoiler: it doesn’t go well.

Warnings: angst, secrets, swearing I think, typical criminal minds stuff

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: tadaaaaa. it’s finally here! my first series! tell me if you liked it! love you! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

The first thing you notice is the complete silence that takes over the room. The last time you had been here, it had been crowded and so noisy that you could hardly understand your own words. People had been everywhere, talking or exchanging theories, but your gaze was fixed on the desk overflowing with books. Now there are only files, carefully sorted and stacked on top of each other.The office is empty, no agents, no witnesses. No one. You take a deep breath.

It's been some time since you've been here. Almost a year, but everything in this building is all too familiar to you. The coffee maker just waiting to be used in the kitchen. The law books gathering dust on a shelf. It feels like you've never been away.

"Y/N," a woman's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You have to tear your gaze away from the desk in front of you, and your eyes find a tired, yet incredibly good-looking Emily Prentiss standing outside her office door, smiling at you like you just saw each other yesterday.

"It's good to see you," you say, and she wraps you in her arms after she closes the office door behind you. It feels good to finally have her by your side again; after all, you had been best friends before you left. You hug her one last time before carefully pulling away from her and sitting down in the chair in front of her desk.

"It's good to see you, too," she replies, dropping into her chair. She places her hands on the desk and interlaces her fingers. "Of course, I'd love to know how you've been this past year, but I'm afraid that will have to wait." She opens a drawer to her right and reaches for a file-your personnel file, you realize-and lays it open in front of her. "I've been informed that my request has been approved and you'll be rejoining our team," she says, smiling briefly at you. "It took a favor, but you're well worth it to me."

Your stomach tightens at the thought of Emily owing someone. You swallow the sour feeling spreading down your throat and nod at her. "Thank you, Emily."

She tilts her head and her gaze slides from your face to your kneading hands. "You're not happy with this, it seems. What's wrong?" Emily doesn't need to profile you to know something is bothering you. She knows you too well to miss the change in your behavior.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," you confess.

"And why is that?" asks Emily, but she already knows the answer. She knows what happened a year ago, and she certainly knows more than you do, because she had been here for the last year, after all. Before you can answer her, the door opens and a colorful person comes in.

"Good morning, my beautiful and strong boss," the one and only Penelope Garcia speaks without looking up from her iPad. "We have a new case that I would like to discuss with you before the whole team arrives. It's about -" When Emily doesn't answer her, she looks up and her gaze immediately lingers on you. You're surprised she doesn't drop the tablet on the floor as she rushes toward you to yank you out of the chair and into her arms. "Y/N! What a relief for my tired brain to see your beautiful face! Am I dreaming?" She breaks away from you and gives Emily a look. "Please tell me I'm not dreaming. I couldn't take it."

A smile spreads across Emily's face. "You're not dreaming, Pen. Y/N is actually back."

"Oh, how wonderful!" she squeals, pushing her glasses back up with her index finger. While she says something else to Emily, you look at her. She really hasn't changed in the last year. She's still the colorful bird of the BAU, and that's a good thing.

You notice yourself starting to smile, but then she utters the thing that erases the smile from your lips. "How's Reid doing? Have you guys talked yet?"

Emily makes a hand gesture for Penelope to drop the subject, but your expression has instantly changed when she said his name. It stabs you in the heart and cold shivers run down your spine, and only with difficulty can you suppress the tremors that want to overtake your body.

"I'm afraid the team is already here," Emily interrupts the silence and casts a glance out the window into the open-plan office. Even if you want to follow her gaze, you don't dare and your body is still in rigidity. She gets up from her chair and walks towards the door, but before she opens it, she turns to you once more. "If you need more time, that's fine. Take all the time you need. But your place is here with us, Y/N. We're your family." And with that, she and Penelope leave the office.

She's right. The BAU is your family - even if you hadn't seen or spoken to any of the family members in the last year - and walking out now wouldn't change the situation. The circumstances under which you left - had to leave - were anything but normal, and you hope that your decisions would be met with understanding, but you can't count on that. So you tighten your shoulders, push through your back, and follow them into the conference room. Your heart beats up to your neck and your hands sweat as you stop on the doorstep.

Your gaze fixes on the youngest team member, except for you. His brown curls are a little shorter than they were a year ago, and it doesn't take you ten seconds to notice that it's not the Spencer Reid you know sitting at the table. The year had changed him. Your absence had changed him.

Rossi is the first to notice you, which is because he glances over his shoulder. "Who do we have here?" he asks playfully, before rising from his chair and taking you in his arms. But you're only peripherally aware of that. Your concentration is on Spencer, who stares at you unblinkingly before jumping up and storming out of the room. JJ, sitting next to him, reaches for him, but he wriggles out of her grip and he runs past you so fast that it's easy to call it an escape. JJ smiles weakly at you before putting her hand on your arm. She doesn't need to say anything, her look tells you that she's glad you're back, but you're also aware that she wants to take care of Spencer, so you nod at her and wordlessly she follows the genius of the team.

The rest greet you with great joy, Rossi presses a kiss on your cheek and Alvez puts his arm around your shoulders, but you look out the window and see Spencer and JJ talking. His face is red and even though you can't hear his words or read his lips, you know exactly what it's about. The blonde tries to calm him down, wanting to put her hands on his shoulders to make him stop shaking, but he avoids her and takes a step back. The gesture is enough, as she drops her arms and doesn't follow him either when Spencer leaves the bullpen. You know he won't be back in the next few minutes.

Garcia tells you about the case and you try to focus on her words as best you can, but again and again your mind wanders to Spencer. His reaction to your return is understandable and you don't judge him for it. You have no right to do so; after all, you are responsible for his condition. You hope that soon there would be a quiet moment when you could talk about the past, but you are not optimistic. He pushed JJ away from him a few minutes ago, which is definitely not a good sign. You try to push the thoughts of him to the back of your mind; after all, there's a case to solve, and although the current situation isn't ideal, you're looking forward to it. It's been a long time since you've worked properly.

"All right," Emily says, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Wheels up in thirty."

"Hey," JJ addresses you as you freshen up in the ladies' room. You glance at her in the mirror and she smiles at you. "Are you okay?" You both know this question is purely rhetorical. She is, after all, Spencer's best friend. Aside from the two of you, she probably knows best what's been going on, but still not everything.

You turn around and lean against the edge of the sink. "I'm trying to get used to everything," you reply, pursing your lips into a thin line. "It's changed quite a bit while I was gone."

She nods. "Yeah, it did." She takes another step toward you. "Look, you have to give him some time, all right? This year hasn't been very nice to him. I hope you can understand that." She sounds sincere and, above all, concerned, which is why you don't resent her little speech. Of course, you're already aware of all this, but hearing it from her confirms your suspicions.

You are to blame for Spencer's condition. And there's no way you can straighten things out anytime soon.

Spencer rejoins the team only on the plane, but he avoids your proximity or your glances at all costs. He takes the seat next to Alvez, which is almost at the other end of the plane, and he is completely silent. The others, of course, notice the tension that has spread through the group since your arrival, but they all have the decency not to bring it up. But by their manner they let you know that they don't stand between you. You had been gone a long time, and they know halfway what had been going on, but they didn't take sides, and for that you are infinitely grateful.

"Alvez, JJ, Simmons. You guys talk to the families. Find out if the victims share any common traits that might connect them," Emily says, dividing the team into focus groups as usual. She glances around the group. "Rossi, Reid, Y/L/N, you go to the coroner's office while -"

"No." It's the first word Spencer has uttered since you boarded the plane. You expected his voice to be weak or to reveal any other signs of uncertainty, but the word came from his lips in a firm tone, leaving no room for discussion. Spencer looks up from the paper file and before he looks at Emily, his gaze brushes yours and at the coldness in his eyes, your blood freezes in your veins.

"All right," Emily says without elaborating. "Alvez, you switch places with Reid. Tara and I will go to the local police department and talk to the detectives. Let's catch the killer."

To say the mood on the plane hit rock bottom would be an understatement.

Forensics helps you out a bit. The victims were drugged before they died, causing hallucinations, which is probably why they self-inflicted injuries. Also, both victims have the same cut wounds in the same place. Definitely not a coincidence. Alvez has Garcia dig up some information on the way to the police station, which is why you could briefly organize your thoughts, but Rossi tells you about a new dish he'd like to cook for you sometime, and you'd been gone too long to block out your work dad. Besides, your mind would only be on Spencer and that's not moving you forward either.

"According to the relatives, none of the victims were unpopular, loners, or even depressed," JJ begins as the team gathers. You take a seat in the chair facing Spencer. When he notices, he gets up and sits somewhere else. The main thing is to get out of your sight. You sigh imperceptibly, but Luke turns in your direction and raises an eyebrow. You shake your head.

It hurts that Spencer doesn't want to be near you. In fact, it almost breaks your heart, but you can get used to that. He should go ahead and hate you. You could handle that.

The day flies by and when the team checks into the hotel in the evening, Spencer grabs one of the keys and leaves without another word. Sadly, you watch him go and Emily puts a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. Eventually, it would get better. Later on, you sit on the bed with her and tell her about the year you've been away, the people you've met, things you've experienced, but each anecdote brings you back to the one topic that makes your heart skip a beat.

"You have to tell him, Y/N," Emily suddenly says seriously, and you shake your head.

"No." It sounds almost as harsh as Spencer on the plane, but there's still some pain hovering in the air with you. "I'm not going to tell him, Emily."

"He thinks you left him because he went to prison. In his mind, you basically left him at the altar," she tries to change your mind, but to no avail. She would not succeed. You had sworn to yourself that this matter would remain a secret, something you would both take to your graves. And you have no intention of breaking that vow. "You were engaged, for gods sake" Emily's tone sharpens. "Don't you think he deserves the truth?"

"I'm not going to tell him. It's for the best."

Emily looks at you incredulously, but also knows she can't change your mind. "Best for whom?"

That night, you lie awake, tossing from side to side but unable to find sleep. You don't feel guilty about what happened. You don't question your decisions you did back then. It was the right thing to do. It bothers you because of Spencer, because of his reaction to your return, because of his hostility. JJ had asked for your understanding and you would do anything to mend fences, but you're not sure that's Spencer's intention either.

After two hours, you get up and slip into sweatpants and a sweater before leaving your room. As if of their own accord, your feet carry you down the hallway, to a destination you shouldn't be going to. As you turn into the hallway where Spencer's room is, you stop, rooted to the spot.

JJ is standing on the doorstep to his room, saying something to him before he leans down and pulls her tightly into his arms. His hair is messy, and even from this distance you can tell Spencer is leaning on JJ with all his weight. You have to swallow. How much you want a hug from him.

JJ is the first to disengage, saying goodbye to him and disappearing in the opposite direction, while Spencer stops and watches her go. There is a small smile on his face and he looks more relaxed than he did earlier in the day. As he turns to go back to his room, his gaze lingers on you. The smile disappears and his body is tense to the breaking point.

Time seems to stand still. It feels like an eternity that you stare at each other without speaking a word, but there is so much coldness in Spencer's eyes, so much pain, that you can hardly stand it and want to look away. But you're transfixed. Your hand raises of its own accord, as if in greeting, and your mouth opens, but before you can say anything, Spencer takes a step back and slams the door behind him. Only then do you realize that you've been holding your breath.

next part

- tags -

@obsssedwithjustaboutanything // @ashwarren32 // @slytherinbth // @rexorangecouny // @candlemouse // @cloudybau

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid angst #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader smut #derek morgan #Emily prentiss #Jennifer jareau #david rossi #Penelope garcia

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

Text

Engagement Pie {Elriel}

Naked Texts & Pie #5

Warning: nsfw. 18+. Dom/sub.

Written alongside @snelbz . Thank you for reading this awfully dirty mini-series that was just meant to be a drabble. (;

Azriel was about to have a panic attack.

Inside of his mind was not a pretty place to be, not that it lacked ideas of flowers and baked goods, but because it was a complete and utter mess.

All day, while Elain was gone, he had been running around like a chicken with his head cut off, unaware if he was doing everything right but sure hoping he was.

He was hoping it would be perfect.

He glanced at the clock.

He had about half an hour until she got home.

At this point, Azriel and Elain had been dating for a little over a year, and living with each other for nearly six months. Since Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding, they knew, without a doubt, that they were meant to be together.

Then again, they had always known, just had never confessed it.

Their families had been less surprised by their sudden relationship and more surprised by the state they returned to the wedding reception in, but neither of them could find it in themselves to care. They were happy, blissfully, wonderful happy and in love.

Azriel opened the oven for the hundredth time, peeking inside to make sure things were still going smoothly. The pie was still there, it hadn’t run away, but it still didn’t have that beautiful golden brown crust that Elain’s always did. Sure, he could text her, ask what exactly he had done wrong, but that would ruin the surprise. He’d done his best to keep everything a secret so far. He wouldn’t ruin it now by texting her a question he could easily ask Google.

After doing so, it looked like he had done everything right, so he let it cook longer, forcing him to wait longer in anxious anticipation.

Azriel paced back and forth, fully aware that he had everything in place. He just needed the damn pie to hurry up and get done.

Elain would be home in twenty minutes, and Azriel needed to be in place when she walked through the door.

At ten until six, Azriel looked in the oven once more. It looked a little bit better, but not as done as he wanted it to be.

He’d wait until the last possible second. It wasn’t ideal, as there were other parts of his plan that required that pie to be done and, preferably, not piping hot, but he’d make do.

So he continued to pace in the kitchen until he heard the garage door rising, signaling Elain’s arrival home.

Hurrying to the oven, he threw the door open and pulled the pie out. The second it was exposed to the natural light of the kitchen, and not the watery bulb of the oven, he knew he fucked up.

It had bypassed golden brown and gone straight to brown, but thanks to the lighting in the oven, he couldn’t tell. He swore under his breath as he laid a towel on top of the washer and set the pie on top of it, letting it cool.

He’d ordered take out from Elain’s favorite restaurant, which had been delivered just a few minutes before, so thankfully even he couldn’t mess up dinner.

Right at six, he could hear Elain’s feet climbing the wooden steps to the front porch and he quickly sat at the kitchen table and popped open a bottle of wine, filling the two glasses.

When Elain entered, her purse on one shoulder, her keys in her hand, she stopped and a slow smile spread across her lips at the display.

“Wine and Rita’s?” she asked, setting her belongings down on the counter. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Azriel smiled as he set the wine bottle down in the middle of the table. “Nothing special. You’ve just been working so hard that I wanted you to have a relaxing night with your favorite food.”

Her smile widened as she sat across from him, but then she stilled for a moment. “Do I smell…pie?”

“No,” Azriel said, then quickly changed his mind. “Yes. It was a candle.”

She blinked once, twice and said, “Huh. I didn’t know we had an apple pie candle.”

She let it drop after that, filling Azriel in on her day. It had been uneventful, a change from her usual hectic schedule, and she was grateful for that. The past month or so, she would come home, scarf something quick and easy down for dinner, and collapse in bed, ready to do it all again the next day. Tonight, she actually had some pep in her step.

“Dinner, wine,” Elain mused, running a finger over the back of Azriel’s hand. “Did you have anything else in mind tonight?”

One of her eyebrows was raised slightly and he knew exactly what she was referring to, which yes, he absolutely did, but first, he had something else he needed to do.

“Actually, yes,” he said, standing. He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Her other eyebrow had raised to match, clearly showing her surprise. “Okay.”

He disappeared for a moment, and when he returned, he held a pie in his hands, dark brown crust and all. It also had a massive “X” cut into the direct center. It didn’t look like a venting hole.

Covering the bottom half of her face with both of her hands, Elain tried to stop the giggles from bubbling from her lips, but she couldn’t. “I knew I smelled pie,” she said, still laughing.

“I sort of burnt it,” he admitted, setting it down in front of her.

“I see that,” she chuckled, leaning forward to kiss him. “I’m sure it will still be delicious.”

He was about to say something when she asked, “But what is that?” gesturing to the center of the pie.

“That….” Azriel started to say something, but wasn’t sure what. All he knew is that he was a nervous mess and not a lot currently made sense. “X marks the spot.”

Elain blinked. “What?”

“X marks the spot.”

She blinked, again. “I don’t follow.”

Azriel sighed. “Pirates… When they bury treasure… X marks the spot.”

Elain’s head fell to the side. “Babe, are you drunk? Are you high? Are you alright? You’re not-.”

Azriel sighed, and reached into the pie. His hand broke the crust, and Elain was so surprised by the gesture that she jumped, and a nervous laugh escaped her. “Az, what are you doing?”

His hand came back up a minute later, covered in apple filling. “You know, I had a whole, romantic thing planned out with the pie. Pie is our thing, and it was going to be cute as hell-.” His words fell off as he opened his hand, revealing a beautiful pear-shaped diamond on a thin, rose gold band.

Elain stared, her mind taking a second to process what she was looking at. He picked up one of the napkins from their dinner and wiped the ring off, as well as his hand, before dropping to one knee from the chair he was sitting in. With his clean hand, he took hers in his. He prayed she couldn’t feel it shaking as badly as he thought it was.

“I know we haven’t been together long, El, but I love you so much. You’re my entire world and my best friend. I can’t—.”

Elain’s lips crashed into his and they went tumbling to the kitchen floor. She pulled back, just enough to see his face and breathed, “Yes.”

Chuckling, Azriel said, “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, kissing him again. “My answer is yes. Yes, yes, yes.”

He sat up and Elain crawled off his lap, sitting next to him on the kitchen floor. He took her hand in his again. “Let me at least ask the important part, yeah?”

She was grinning like a fool, but she nodded, waiting for him to go on.

Resting the ring against the tip of her finger, Azriel asked, “Elain, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and a tear slid down her cheek. “Yes. Yes! Of course, I will.”

He slid the ring onto her finger with shaky fingers before her mouth was crashing into his, once again.

Azriel wanted to ask that question for so long, and now that he had, not at all the way he had planned, it didn’t even seem like it had happened.

Yet, as she flung her arms around his neck, everything seemed completely and perfectly right.

Elain leaned back and peered at the ring. It was magnificent, lovely, perfect.

She slowly looked at Azriel. “You….hid it in the pie?”

He cringed, but laughed softly. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Her eyes went wide and she glanced at the ring again. “You didn’t bake it with the ring in there, did you?”

“No, of course not,” he chuckled, pulling her back into his lap.

She went willingly, straddling his hips and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Okay, good. The pie would have been inedible then.”

“I think it’s inedible now,” he scoffed, his hands gripping her hips, while his lips found her neck.

“I think I should be the one to decide that,” she said, her voice going high and breathy.

“There’s something else I’d rather eat instead,” he replied, tilting her face down to meet his as his lips crashed into hers.

Elain hummed against his mouth as she fell into the kiss. After the millions of kisses that they had shared and the constant lovemaking that had come along with being helplessly, madly in love, Azriel never grew tired of being intimate with Elain.

In fact, he couldn’t get enough of it. Every time he was with Elain, he just wanted it more and more. He couldn’t grow tired of it, ever - it was impossible.

His hands swept up her back and tangled into her hair, and she cupped Azriel’s face in her hands.

He could feel the cool metal of her ring against his cheek.

Azriel rose, taking Elain with him, and laid her down on top of the table. Her head fell right next to the pie. She couldn’t help but glance over at it.

She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

“Something funny?” He asked, ducking away, trailing his nose down her neck as his lips found her collarbone.

“No.” It came out as more of a breathy moan than the sigh she was meaning it to be.

“Really?” His hands gripped her wrists, unwrapping them from around him, and he pinned them above her head with one hand. “That little laugh would suggest otherwise.”

His free hand began undoing the buttons on her shirt one by one, and Elain was practically vibrating beneath him by the time he was pushing her shirt to either side of her body.

Her bra was made of nothing but lace, and he could see her pebbled nipple through the fabric. He toyed with the idea of taking it off, but his lips closed over it, the rough lace scratching against the sensitive skin. She whimpered softly, her back arching off the table to better accommodate his mouth, and when he tugged on her nipple with his teeth, the whimper became a moan.

Gazing up at her, he said, “Is anything funny now?”

Elain sucked in her bottom lip as she slowly shook her head. “No.” Azriel raised a brow. “No, what?”

Elain couldn’t help her spreading grin as pure excitement radiated throughout her body. “No, sir.”

Azriel smirked in return as he gave her his first order. “Stay still.”

“And if I move?” she asked, quietly. Since their first time, Elain learned that she liked to test her boundaries.

Azriel liked it, too - when she was naughty.

“Then I’ll stop,” he said, and slowly let go of her wrists before putting his fingers in the band of her black skirt and yanking it off. “And you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

She shook her head, watching everything he did, biting her lip. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table to hold herself in place. As he dragged her panties down, as slowly as he could, she wanted to reach out and touch him. She was nearly naked, while he was still completely clothed, but she figured that was exactly how he wanted her.

It typically was.

He was quite the tease, but Elain secretly enjoyed that fact.

Azriel took a step back from where she lay and crossed his arms as his eyes swept across her body, taking in every beautiful inch.

In response, Elain spread her legs wide for him.

Azriel took in a deep breath and nearly growled.

He loved the sight of her, longed for it, thrived on it. It made him weak in the knees, still, and he was certain it always would.

“I am amazed,” Azriel breathed, “by your beauty.”

His comment only made her spread her legs wider.

He smirked. “What do you want, sweet girl?” He trailed a finger up the inside of her thigh, getting so close to where she needed him, but not quite.

“You,” she sighed, but it sounded more like a gasp.

“I know that,” he drawled. “Be more specific.”

“Your mouth on me, please,” she replied, gripping the edge of the table harder.

Azriel smirked again as he gently brushed his thumb over her entrance and then circled her clit once. “You’re saying you want me to eat your pie?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and looking up at her face.

“Yes, sir, please.” The words were breathy and quiet and he was fairly sure she was already trembling.

Azriel fell to his knees as Elain’s head fell back in pure ecstasy. It was the anticipation, the want, the need…

The second his tongue swept between her slick folds, Elain was already on edge.

Azriel had that effect on her.

Those hands that gripped the edge of the table tightened, and Elain’s eyes fluttered shut.

He knew exactly what he was doing. He had the first time, and he sure as hell did now as he took his clit between his lips and sucked, gently.

“Az,” she breathed, fully aware that when she said his name, it sent him wild.

He took her ass into his hands and pulled her closer to him.

She could never last long when his mouth was on her. The things he could do with his tongue made her see stars and she knew this time wasn’t going to be the exception. Azriel knew it, too.

He flicked his tongue over her clit and pushed a finger inside of her. “Are you close already, Lainey?”

She nodded, feeling his breath on her sex.

A second finger joined the first, and he curled them upward. “I couldn’t hear you. I said, are you close?”

“Yes, sir, I’m so close,” she panted.

Her arms were straining and he swore he heard the wood groan beneath her hands as she struggled to keep them where they were. It was surprising she’d held on for this long. He knew how badly she longed to have her hands in his hair or even kneading her own breast, still covered in that pretty, lace bra.

“Don’t come yet,” he crooned, pressing a kiss to the top of her sex.

He was torturous.

Purely evil, and yet, Elain thrived on it. Her entire body shook as pleasure swept through her. She was so close. So very close to the edge, ready to fall into the oblivion that was being loved by Azriel.

Her body jerked, and Azriel held onto her tighter.

Elain tried to obey, and tried to stay perfectly still, even though her entire body fought against it.

Azriel’s tongue continued to dance along her sex, continued to suck on her most sensitive of parts.

“I need you,” Elain begged.

Azriel didn’t respond, he only tugged her close, sucked her harder, praised her longer.

“Az, please.” It was more or a groan than anything else and he responded by sucking her clit between his lips and pulling hard. At the teeniest press of his teeth, she began to shake, and then he began to pump his fingers in and out.

Elain shattered, crying out and letting go of the table. Her hand dove into his hair and she lifted her hips, doing whatever she could to keep his face where it was.

Azriel worked her through her orgasm and when she stilled, he stood, wiping off his face and looking down at her. She was still breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling, but that full bottom lip was caught between her teeth again as she watched him. She knew what was coming.

“You weren’t supposed to come yet,” he breathed, dragging a finger from top of her sex up her stomach and between her breasts. He reached her face and worked her lip from between her teeth. “You disobeyed me.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, even though she really, really wasn’t. The last thing she was was sorry.

“You’ll have to be punished now,” Azriel said, softly.

“Punished how?” Elain asked.

Azriel watched her for a moment before he said, “Turn around.”

She did as she was told, rolling onto her stomach, her ass in the air. “Is this okay?” she asked.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, and raised his hand before smacking her across her ass.

Elain gasped at the contact and had to bite her lip to keep from exploding into a fit of delighted giggles.

The sharp intake of breath was her only response, she fought to keep in the quiet cry or moan that he wanted to draw from her. She was feeling bratty tonight.

Glancing down at the ring sparkling on her finger, she knew exactly why. She got to experience this sensual rush for the rest of her life. She was Azriel’s.

And he was hers. Forever.

His hand cracked against her skin again and she had to close her eyes and bite her lip to keep from moaning.

He did it again and again, but then he suddenly stopped.

“You’re getting even more wet for me,” he breathed, dragging a finger along her center. She was unable to stop her whimper. He added, “That’s not the point of a punishment.”

He knew exactly what his spankings did to her. He loved it, and if he kept on with it, she’d be dripping all over their kitchen table.

Without warning, he picked her up, carrying her into the living room and tossing her on the couch. She bounced gently, a pleased smile on her face.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” he ordered, pulling his own shirt over his head.

Slipping the button down off her shoulders, Elain reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She watched as Azriel removed his belt and dropped it to the floor.

She tried not to let herself feel any disappointment as he discarded the belt. He’d used that once or twice before and the unyielding, stiff leather had drawn more than a few orgasms from her as he spanked her with it.

He popped the button on his jeans and said, “Touch yourself.”

Propping her feet up on the couch, she spread her legs for him and slid her hand over her pussy. He was right. She was soaked and so, so turned on. She circled her clit with one finger. She moaned softly, “But I want to touch you.”

“That’s too bad,” he replied, his eyes settling on her sex. “You’re being punished.”

She slid her finger between her folds, teasing herself. Adding a second finger, she just barely dipped them into her entrance, but no more than her finger tips. She was so sensitive, still riding the high of her orgasm and fought off a moan as she watched Azriel watch her.

Dragging the zipper down on his jeans, her eyes tracked the motion and she stilled, waiting for him to take them off.

“I don’t remember telling you to stop,” he said, regaining her attention.

Her fingers began slow motions, yet again, but she didn’t take her eyes off of where his own hands worked at removing his denim. She breathed, “And how long will this punishment last?”

Azriel’s eyes sparked as his chest rose and fell, slowly. “It’ll end when I want it to.”

Elain nodded as her fingers slid up inside of her and she let out a soft, low moan.

Azriel licked his lips as he tracked her every movement. “Keep up the good work and I may just let you choose your own punishment.”

“I’d rather have a reward.” Her voice was soft, low, but it was shaking slightly. The anticipation got her off just as much as her own fingers did.

He paused with his jeans hanging low on his hips. She could see the waistband of his black boxer-briefs underneath. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“I want to touch you,” she said again, slipping both fingers inside herself again, deeper this time. Curling her fingers up, she reached for her g-spot, eyes falling shut when she skimmed over it. Her head fell back against the cushions and she groaned.

His approach was silent, but she felt his hand on her face and when she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her. His cock was in his hands and he stroked it once. “You want to touch me?” He asked.

“Yes, please.” She continued to pump her fingers in and out and licked her lips as her eyes bounced between his eyes and his thick, proud length. It was just a few inches from her face.

“How do you want to touch me, Elain,” he asked, dragging a thumb over her bottom lip.

It was that tone, that deep, sensual tone of his that drove her mad.

“I want to take your cock into my hands,” she breathed, the words hitched. “Into my mouth.”

Azriel hummed, as if he was debating it. He nodded to the fingers that were pumping in and out of herself. “You can touch me when you’re finished touching yourself.”

Elain nodded, her hand moving faster as she pumped those two fingers in and out, then another, easily sliding in alongside the others.

Azriel stroked himself, slowly, again and again as he watched.

Elain’s other hand trailed between her legs and she began to circle her clit, pulling a loud moan out of herself. As her two hands worked, she drew closer to the edge, and Azriel’s breathing grew shallower.

Her words were high pitched and she was struggling to keep her eyes open as she asked, “Can I come? Please, I’m so close.”

He ran his thumb over her lip again and waited until she was looking up at him. And then he smirked. “No, baby, you can’t.”

Elain wasn’t proud of the whine that she let out, but she slowed her fingers. She didn’t withdraw them, because she knew he wouldn’t like that, but stopped circling her clit. If she didn’t, she was going to come and as fun as another punishment really would be, she wanted her reward.

“Good girl,” he crooned, tilting her chin up to look at him. She’d been staring at his cock. There was a milky bead of precum on the tip and she wanted to lean forward and lick it off.

As if he could sense her thoughts, he ran his thumb over the thick head, spreading the wetness over the length. She tried not to whine again.

“You want me in your mouth?” He asked, shifting his hips forward slightly.

“Please,” Elain breathed, nodding eagerly.

“Do you think you’ve been punished enough?”

She frantically nodded, and Azriel wondered if she even knew she was bucking her hips, searching and needing release. He loved when she got like this, so needy and begging for whatever he’d give her.

Instead of giving her what she wanted though, he crouched, taking the hand that had been circling her clit in his. Raising it to his lips, he licked the tips of her fingers. He moaned quietly. “I will never get tired of the taste of you.”

Elain whimpered softly, her other hand still pumping in and out of herself.

“Do I taste as sweet to you as you do to me?” He asked, leading that hand back to her swollen clit and stood.

She began the slow circling again and nodded, and he knew if she was incapable of speaking, she was going wild with lust.

In the quietest of voices, Azriel said, “Prove it.”

Elain wasted no time wrapping her lips around the head of his cock and lathering him with her tongue. Azriel let out a long, slow breath at the contact and when her finger slowed against her clit, he shook his head. “Don’t stop.”

Elain moaned, and the vibrations against him had Azriel’s fingers weaving their way into her hair as Elain took Azriel further into her mouth.

She continued the slow circling of her clit, but slipped the rest of her fingers from wet pussy. She reached for his cock, to wrap around what wouldn’t fit in her mouth, but he caught her hand. Her fingers were glistening, still costed in her essence, and he brought them to his mouth. “We can’t waste that,” he murmured, before sucking them between his lips one by one.

Elain’s eyes fluttered shut and she moaned softly as he released her hand and slipped his free hand into her hair as well, absolutely controlling her and the pace with which she worshiped him.

Or so he thought.

Opening her throat, Elain took him as deeply as she could, gazing up at him as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Azriel was unable to stop the groan as he fucked her mouth and throat with no abandon, until she began to gag softly.

He withdrew himself, dropping his jeans the rest of the way, and sat down on the couch next to her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her roughly. “That’s new,” he crooned, his lips dragging down her neck.

Her laughter was sensual as she continued to stroke him. “I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t think you’d be surprising me, too,” she admitted, bringing her hand up to admire the diamond sparkling on her finger.

Azriel wrapped his hand around hers and brought it to his lips, where he kissed the back of her hand, just below her ring.

“I’m just glad you’re not asking me to wait for this again until our wedding night,” he murmured.

Elain grinned. “I don’t think I would survive the wait. I’d have to marry you tomorrow.”

Azriel’s eyes sparkled as he took her hips and pulled her on top of him. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”

Elain moaned quietly as Azriel teased her at her opening. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna make you wait.”

“That, and you want a big wedding,” he said, leaning up and trailing kisses along her throat.

“Not a big wedding,” she replied, trying to lower her hips. His grip was firm though, and she only managed another inch, teasing herself just as much as he’d been teasing her.

Resting her hands on his shoulders, she tried to rock her hips, wanting more of him inside of her. He still held firm.

His smirk was devilish when she looked up into his face. “I never said you were done being punished.”

Her mouth fell open in surprise. She squirmed and his grip on her hips tightened, his smile growing. “Az, please.”

“Hmm?” He leaned up again, capturing her lips with his and his thumb found her clit. Her body gave a jerk and her thighs burned with how hard she was trying to lower herself onto him.

Pulling away, she pressed her forehead against his. “Please… I’ll be a good girl for you. I won’t come until you tell me to. I just need to feel you inside of me.”

He nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth and released his hold on her hips.

She sank down onto him, not gently in the slightest, and moaned as he filled her in one rough stroke. She bucked her hips, not rising but needing the friction as her lips crashed against his.

It was thrilling. There was always a rush that consumed Elain’s body the moment he filled her. A spark of excitement that never grew old, never faded.

Azriel knew it, too. There was a look that crossed her face that only showed itself the moment he entered her.

It was beautiful.

Consumingly gorgeous.

Elain’s head fell back as she rocked her hips - her hips that Azriel’s fingers were digging into, yet again, but he didn’t guide her.

She did that perfectly well on her own.

With his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, Azriel’s eyes scanned Elain’s body, from her tilted back head, to her breasts at eye level, then to where they were connected.

“Better?” Azriel asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” she breathed, eyelids fluttering shut.

He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and brought her lips to his. The kiss was not gentle, but he knew that wasn’t how she wanted it. Sure, they had sweet, soft sex sometimes, something they both adored on occasion, but nothing drove Elain wild as much as rough sex did. He had never dreamed she’d be as submissive as she was but gods, he was so glad of it. She was the other half he’d been waiting for and the fact that she was his for the rest of his life…

He growled quietly as he pressed his other hand to the small of her back and rocked his own hips up into her. She gasped against his lips and braced her hands on his shoulders as they found a rhythm that had her groaning his name.

There were very few things that pleased Azriel more than hearing his name on Elain’s mouth while they fucked. It broke him, unleashed something unearthly.

His hips thrust harder up into her, and each time he did so, his name grew louder and louder on her lips.

Azriel felt that magnificent, familiar feeling rising within him but he didn’t move his eyes from Elain. Her face was still close to his, her breath hot against his mouth. He cursed before kissing her, yet again, bringing her lip between his teeth and gently tugging.

Before she could anticipate it, he flipped them so they were laying on the couch, his body covering hers, and lifted one of her legs so it rested on his shoulder. It opened her up, allowing him to thrust harder, deeper, and she began clawing at his back. She cried out, and he groaned as she screamed his name.

His fingers gripped her chin and her lust-filled gaze found his. That hand slid between them and found her clit. The next thing he said wasn’t a request. It was a demand.

“Come for me.”

Elain did. She shattered, her body shaking with the force of the orgasm that slammed into her.

Azriel couldn’t hold on much longer, the feeling of her coating him, spasming around him, having him meeting his own end.

He came, one hand digging into the couch cushions, the other gripping her ass. His fingers would surely leave a mark.

Elain didn’t mind.

He fell onto her body, breathing heavily, sweat coating his skin. As Elain caught her breath, her arms wrapped around him.

His face was buried in her neck, and she felt his lips moving and heard him murmuring before she could understand what he was saying. But then she heard him, clearly, and she wondered how it had taken them years to realize it together.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His words weren’t just a quiet praise and reminder, but also a promise, as strong as the one that she now wore on her finger.

He pulled back, his eyes finding hers, even as his chest was still heaving as he caught his breath. Reaching up, she ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “I love you, too.”

His gaze was soft as she leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. They stayed like that for a few minutes, slowly kissing each other, not in any hurry to start anything up again, but just enjoying the taste and feel of each other.

When Elain’s stomach growled, however, Azriel pulled back and looked at her with a raised brow.

“Work up an appetite?”

She laughed, quietly. “Maybe so.”

“Well, Rita’s is gone,” Azriel muttered, “but, there’s pie.”

Elains laughter grew louder, and even Azriel couldn’t help but smile down at her.

“It’s a little burnt, but I’m sure it tastes alright,” he went on. "Maybe."

“Pie sounds good,” Elain said, eyes bright. “Even if we can only eat the filling.”

Azriel scoffed. “That’s the best part.”

“True,” she agreed, and rolled off the couch from beneath him. “I’m going upstairs to clean up. Meet me in bed.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked over her shoulder. Azriel's eyes scanned every inch of her body as she said, “You bring the pie.”

Azriel was off the couch before she could finish her sentence, doing just that.

#elriel #part 5 #NT&P #acotar #fanfiction

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eeunoia · 3 years

Text

ENHYPEN Mini Series

E N H Y P E N as Vampires

pairings: jay park x reader

summary: you were obsessed to vampires not knowing you actually have on luring closely around you.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: a little spicy (keyword: little)

a/n: So after seeing black-haired Jay, I don’t know what else to feel. He really looked good! I mean, all of them looks so good. Oh my gosh, I don’t know. But I hope you enjoy this one. 🌸 (Taglist still open!)

taglist: @rubyanne, @izneos, @jung-breadshop @llamabouquet @eterniki @hwangjangmi @full-sannie @danyxthirstae01 @flowerjaem @dreamykkoo

“Oops. I’m sorry.” you politely said to the person you bumped into while holding some books over both of my arms. He glanced at you then decided to go back to what he was doing. You just shrugged it off and ignored it.

With a light bit to your lower lip you just continued your way back to where your table was. The table was already filled with a lot of books, you’re the only one occupying it but it seems like a group of friends were sitting there because of all the mess. You have a free period so you decided to spend your time here in the library, reading something about vampire.

“I knew I’ll find you here.” your head snapped upwards and a smile quickly spreads through your face at the sight of your friend in front of you.

He was gorgeous as always, Park Jay is in front of you, hair pushed back showing off that beautiful forehead of his. He was showing your his side-smirk while one of his hands was inside his pocket.

“Hi, I was just reading some stuff.” you said excitedly at him. He scoffed right at you didn’t really need to ask you what it was because he already knew what it is. There’s only one thing that makes you go crazy... vampires.

Jay sat down at the vacant chair beside you. He roamed his eyes around to all the different varieties of books at the table. There were thin ones and thick ones. All sort of those type of books you can see in a library.

“Can you even read all of these? I mean, there’s just too many.” Jay said sounding a bit concern as he even goes through some of the books. His face kind of made this unexplained expression as he see some weird stuff written over at the title of the book.

“So... I went here because Shan, is throwing a party later tonight. I was planning to invite you.” Jay said as he still kept looking through some of the books.

You don’t usually get along well with a lot of people. You only have few friends and Jay’s one of them. He figures it would be great to let you interact with real people instead of having you spend your night reading stuff like this. You glanced at him for a while.

“Sounds fun but I’ll pass. I have plans tonight.” you gave him a warm smile as you started flipping over at the pages of the book that you’re currently reading. You grabbed your small notebook to write down something new that you’ve just read.

Jay rolled his eyes and let out a loud sigh, “What plan? To read and research about vampires again?” you weren’t that much surprise to heard it from him. If there's somebody who knew you well, it would be him. Although you don't know much about your dear friend, he knew almost everything about you. Almost... since he doesn't have an idea about your feelings for him.

"Yeah, you got that right." you smiled at him before you went back at reading once again. Furrowing your brows seriously, you tried hard to focus at the books instead of Jay's manly scent.

You've always known his scent ever since. There's just something about it that makes your head grew blank of any thoughts but him. It was like his trademark, makes you aware that he's around.

He snorted beside you then rolled his eyes before resting his hand over at the book you were reading. With a shooting glare, you glanced towards his direction.

"I have better plans so we should go with mine." he shoot you with those intimidating stares. You can't help but to gulp while you're admiring his beauty. He looked so intimidating and hot at the same time. No wonder, a lot of girls from your university were head over heels for him.

"Why do you even want to bring me there? You know how I hate parties and you're probably just gonna use me to avoid those girls." you rolled your eyes at him as you shoved away his hands. You grunted when he don't even moved his hands. How can he be so strong?

"You're kind of right about the girls things but the main reason was because I don't want to be all happy in that party while you're being miserable reading." he said and even smirked at you.

You pushed the side of your cheek with your tongue as you raise an eyebrow at him tilting your head over at the side. "And who said I'll be miserable while reading? I would probably enjoy my night." you said.

He chuckled and finally moved his hand away from your book only to wrap it around your shoulder to pull you closer to him. With a bright red tinted over at your cheeks, you tried hard to calm yourself down.

"C'mon don't be a bummer! I promise I'll go to the library tomorrow with you and you can read for as long as you want." he said whispering over at your ears making your heart beat faster every time his hot breath fans over at your ears and neck.

You tried hard to ignore your beating heart and focused with what he just said. Did he really just said that? Offered to go with you at the library? He never done that before and despise it whenever you asked him to join you. He really got bored pretty fast so you can't blame him. Books just bore him out.

"Are you serious about that?" you said trying to check if he's saying the truth because you kind of doubt it. It can be one of his traps so he can make you go to that party.

"Yeah, I really mean it." and he smiled at you, this time sincerely. You felt your heart racing as your shoulder fell as a gesture of surrendering. You let out a sigh before you pursed your lips, starring over at his pretty eyes.

"Okay, we have to seal it." and you extended your hand over at him, showing him your little pinky finger.

Jay's eyes trailed over it and chuckle a bit because of how cute and childish you can really be. He raised his hand and linked his pinky with yours as he looked back up at you.

"Sealed. I'll pick you up at 8pm."

You tilted your head before slightly covering your ears as the loud music kind of ringed inside your head making it ache a bit. You're starting to regret your decision of coming here with Jay.

It's been almost like fifteen minutes and he can't be found anywhere! He just told you that he'll get both of you drinks and he disappeared. You rolled your eyes as you started fidgeting with your fingers, slightly starting to feel getting tired of the surrounding.

Whenever there’s a lot of people, you can just feel all of your energy getting sucked out. You don't know but that's just how you feel, maybe because you really hate being in a lot of crowd. Which is a little strange because your friend, Jay, was the complete opposite.

"Why does a pretty girl like you alone, huh?" your head snapped upwards when somebody talked to you. In front of you was one of the cocky football players in your school. You're familiar with him because he's one of the famous students. Often talked about by the girls in your class. He's also friends Jay, you think.

You gave him a faint smile, "Uh, Jay said he'll just grab us drinks." you reasoned out even though that was already fifteen minutes ago.

You saw how a playful smirk got plastered over at his lips, "Ohh, Jay... But I clearly remember seeing him banging somebody at the bathroom though?" he even tilted his head over at the side.

You didn't have time to examine his expression because you quickly felt betrayed after hearing that from him. He said he'll take care of you in this party but seems like he's gonna take care of something else. You have no right to get mad at him, it was normal. But what pisses you off is that you're supposed to be at your dorm, peacefully reading your books and he dragged you all the way here.

You let out a sigh standing up from the sofa and slightly pulling down the end of your short dress. You gave the guy an awkward insincere smile, "I think I should go." you mumbled as you were about to turn and leave the place when you felt him grabbing your arm, stopping you.

"Why don't you stay for a bit more? I can get you a drink." he smirked showing off his charming smile at you.

You battled inside your mind but ended up smiling at him in an apologetic way, "I'm sorry but I want to go now." and you tried to get away from his grip.

You made it outside the frat house and there’s still a lot of people outside but not as crowded from inside. When you were about to make it really out, you felt one hand gripped over you once again.

"Hey are you sure you don't want to stay?" it was the guy from before, he came after you.

"Uh yeah."

"Then can I just drive you home?" he sounds sweet, honestly. But since you knew him a bit, you know he's just basically wanting to get into your pants.

You gave him a smile once again, trying not to show that you're slowly getting pissed. Not to mention, Jay really did get into your nerves tonight.

"No, thanks." you sound polite saying no. When you were about to pull off from him, a hand suddenly loosen his grip from you and Jay's familiar back was now in front of you.

"Hands off, Yoon." Jay said firmly and he's now the one holding your arm. You rolled your eyes and looked away, still pissed at him.

"Okay! I was just offering her a ride home."

"Go offer that to somebody else." and you heard the guy walked away after he heard that from Jay.

You kept quiet even after he turned around to face you. His brows were furrowed hardly looking pissed as well. Taken aback at how he's acting, you pulled away from his grip.

"What?" you asked him sarcastically.

He let out a sigh, calming himself before he ran his hand over at his hair. "I clearly remember told you to stay and wait for me." he muttered seriously at you.

You smiled at him fakely, "Oh, I'm sorry. I figured you wanted to take time fucking the girl in the bathroom so I was just about to go home."

You saw the instant confusion over his face as he starred at you.

"What are you talking about?"

It pisses you even more looking at him denying it. "You were banging somebody at the bathroom that's why you disappeared."

He was still confused, "Banging? Who told you that? I was not--" you didn't even let him finish because you turned around, ready to leave. You were just getting pissed because he was denying it.

You felt him grabbing you and forcing you to face him, "Hey I'm telling the truth! You can even check if my I did. I was just caught off with some friends inside and when I went back to give you the drink, you were gone! You gave me a heart attack, thinking somebody took you somewhere else."

You crossed your arms at him, "I want to go home."

Jay starred right at your eyes and sighed heavily. He planned to actually have fun with you tonight but it seems like that's not gonna happen anymore because you're upset.

"Okay, I'm sorry baby if I left you for a long time." he said sincerely. You gulped and looked away from him as the sweet endearment of him rings over your mind.

You weren't even supposed to act mad. Then so what if Jay's fucking someone at the bathroom? He's already a grown man, he's attractive so a lot of girls will be interested to him! Maybe it's because of your jealousy? You don't exactly know what.

"Okay whatever. I wanna go."

"Okay, can I first have a hug because I was really scared when you were not there where I left you." you eyed him and he's now opening his arms for you.

"And to make sure you aren't upset anymore." he said smirking.

You starred at his eyes for a bit while before you gave in and let out a sigh. Slowly, you approach Jay and wrapped your arms around his waist while he wrapped his around you. He dropped a kiss over at your head before he mumbled something over at you.

"I'll just say goodbye with my friends inside and we can just go somewhere else." he softly said.

You pulled away from the hug after nodding, "Okay, I'll wait for you here."

He starred at you seriously before he shake his head, "No. I'm not leaving you ever again." and he pulled you by your hand.

When you made it inside the crowded frat house, the loud music once again ringed inside your head. The people inside were now getting wasted so it can't be helped to be bumped by somebody. Jay intertwined your fingers with his to make sure you won't be lost.

"Hey, I'll be going." you noticed Jay's familiar circle of friends. They eyed Jay and you saw that disappointed look over the girls that were there.

He chuckled as they groaned in disagreement. "It was a great party, dude. See you around." he lastly said before he started pulling you away.

You even saw how the girl's eyes looked at you with envy and madness. They sure want to stop Jay, that's for sure. But they also know once Jay made a decision, they can't stop him from doing it.

"Thank you." you smiled at him when he put some more books at the table. He smiled at you as he sat down beside you.

You're now at the library and as promised, Jay really did go with you. He even helped you look for books and said he will stay with you while you read.

As you started rummaging over the books, Jay rested his back over his chair and get his nintendo. He'll play while you do your reading. You've got no classes for today so you can do as much reading as you want without worrying for the next classes.

"Did you know vampires can live forever?" you said sounding so excited as you eyed Jay who's clearly busy with his game.

His hands were busy and his eyes too, while brows furrowed seriously, he gave you a quick glance.

"Oh really? Interesting." you ignored the fact that he sounded so sarcastic about and just kept flipping the pages of the book.

"And I even read that they can roam around even in broad daylight without worrying to be dissolved." you started blabbering some stuff you find cool about them.

Jay just gave you a small nod and still kept his eyes over at his game. You know you're sounding a bit pathetic to other people because of how crazy you are with vampires. They're just few people who believed they do exist and you're one of them. You're just glad that even though you're like this Jay didn't unfriend you. He's just there, listening with your obsession.

"Do you think it'll be painful if a vampire bite you?" You wondered and rested your elbows at the table then your head leaned over your palm as you stare over Jay.

You saw how he stopped moving his fingers and eye you. Those stares really gave chills over your back but you can't look away from him as well. His gazes truly were intimidating, but you love them.

"Wanna try?" he said seriously. You blushed hardly as you starred at him too.

You two were silent for a while as you slowly went back to your senses.

"What do you mean?" you asked feeling completely flustered.

He put his game over the table and leaned closer to you, you gulped starting to feel nervous. Jay's face was still serious when he stretched his hand and put it behind your neck before he pull you closer his lips quickly aiming for your neck.

"J-Jay?" you were confused why he's suddenly acting like this.

"I bet it'll hurt a lot, y/n. It will hurt so much that you can't even take the pain." he whispered after placing a soft kiss over at your neck.

You gulped trying to clear your throat and Jay pulled away now with a smirk over his handsome face. His hands crawled over at your neck and he grabbed it, with a slightly choking position but not tightening it.

"But I bet the vampire will enjoy biting your neck. Sure will do." he muttered before leaning closer to kiss you over at your cheek.

He pulled away and smiled at you, "I'll just get us some drinks." he winked before standing up and leaving you there, dumbfounded.

Jay's really driving you crazy! How can he pull off that stunt without even a single warning? You literally thought he'll bite off your neck or something. You sighed and you rested one of your hands at your chest. You can feel your indefinite heart beats, it was all his fault.

You starred worriedly over at Jay when he opened the door for you, one night. It was already 9pm and he suddenly called you saying he doesn't feel so good. You hurriedly went to his house to check on him and you saw him looking a bit unwell.

"What happened to you?" you asked worried and rested your hand over at his forehead. It was cold, like always.

He held your hand and smiled a little. You can clearly see that he isn't okay, that he's not feeling well.

"I'm fine. I'll get better once you cook for me." he said and starred right at you. You ended up nodding your head and instructing him to just lay down somewhere.

You tied your hair up and wore the apron slowly trailing over the familiar cozy floor of Jay’s house. It isn’t the first time you were there so were obviously used to it. You rummaged over his stuff and started making something you remembered he loved.

You were now chopping off some ingredients that you’ll be needing for the dish you’re planning to cook for him while you’re mind wonders off to Jay. Ever since the day at the library and the conversation about the bite in the neck, you started thinking about Jay even more. You don’t know why but you think you might be out of your mind. Your obsession with vampires was making you think your friend were actually one of them.

“Ugh.” you grunted lowly as you accidentally cut your finger. You quickly walked towards the sink to wash it away when you felt presence behind you.

“Y/n...” you heard Jay said in a low voice.

You turned around and saw him starring like crazy in your finger that was bleeding, “Jay, it was just a small cut.” you even tried smiling at him but his eyes were still locked at your bleeding finger.

Finding it a bit odd, you cupped his face using your unwounded hand and made him face you. It was just for a short moment but you clearly saw it with your own eyes. Jay’s black eyes turned into a bright red color. You don’t know how to express the excitement you just felt when you saw it.

“Y-You’re eyes...” Jay snapped back to reality and stepped backward, away from you. He knew he fucked up, he shouldn’t have made you go here when he’s like this, when he’s hungry. He thought he was in control and seeing you can somehow calm him down but why does it have to end this way? He can resist you as long as he cannot smell your blood but you just cut yourself and your blood triggers him.

All he wants now is to hold you closer, have some of those blood. Keep you near him, so close to him and to never let go. The most hidden feelings of him slowly becoming visible, he hates it.

“No way,” you mumbled still starring at him not minding that your finger was still bleeding.

“Yes way so if you don’t want me to eat you alive, get away.” Jay said and still slowly backing away.

You starred over at his eyes trying not to miss the moment of him changing his eye color. You can’t believe that what you just read was true. They did change their eye color! Excitement ate you whole as you advanced towards Jay, fear clearly can’t be seen over at your eyes.

“You don’t know how exciting that sounds for me, Jay.” Jay was dumbfounded to actually hear that from you. He’s being dizzy by the scent of your fresh blood and all the emotions that were starting to mess around.

He knew you were obsessed and crazy over his kind but he never really thought you’ll react this way when you knew about him. He didn’t took notice that you were now close to him. you cupped his face as you stare at him.

“Vampires do look breath-taking.” you said.

Jay gulped eyes turning red once again, you were too close and he knew it was dangerous. He pursed his lips as he held over your waist ready to push you away. n “Baby, this is not good. You’re making me so hungry.” he shut his eyes.

“You can have some.” Jay snapped his eyes open and when he saw how sincere your eyes looks, he can’t stop himself anymore.

He muttered small little curses under his breath before he carried you and made you sit over the kitchen counter. Jay held your face softly as his fangs slowly showed, “It’ll hurt a lot.”

You smiled and caress his face, “I can take it.”

He sighed and leaned forward to kiss you over at your lips once before he showered your chin and neck with butterfly like kisses. You shut your eyes as you held unto his hair.

Jay was already feeling so hungry and seeing your bare neck in front of him just drives him crazy. The countless times he fantasize of biting this flashed back through his mind, he didn’t even know there comes a time he will actually burry his fangs at your neck.

You bit your lower lip as you felt his fangs bury at your neck causing you this unexplainable pain. You quickly felt dizzy and Jay was there to hold you close to him making sure you won’t fall.

He pulled away and faced you, looking a bit pale, he got worried and held your face. You smiled seeing him in front of you, fangs showing and blood over at the side of his lips.

You leaned over and kiss it off of the side of his lips. You opened your mouth letting his tongue touch with yours. He groaned and even held your nape to deepen the kiss. You chuckled and pull away, n “You actually enjoy that taste?” you tried to joke when you had a taste of your own blood.

“It was the best so far,” he smirked.

You smirked at him too as you starred at Jay. His eyes weren’t red anymore but his fangs were still out in the open. “You look so hot.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled and leaned for another kiss.

It’s been days ever since the day you knew that Jay was a vampire and ever since then you started becoming his blood bank. He have this blood packs that you don’t know where the hell came from but he prefers to have your blood. It was kind of cute not until you’re full of his bite marks.

If it’s annoying for you, it’s a masterpiece for Jay. For him, seeing you full of his bite marks clearly like claiming you. He smirked while starring over at you doing your homework. Classes were over and you’re at the library with him.

“Aren’t you hot for wearing that?” he teased referring to your turtle neck.

You rolled your eyes, “Why don’t you try then? I clearly told you, stop putting it in a visible place! You never listen.” you hissed at him a bit pissed.

He smirked tilting his head before leaning forward and carefully ran his palm from your collar bone up to your neck, he leaned in.

“Then so what if I want to put it in where people can see it?”

“If its love bites, it’ll be just fine but they’re vampire bites. You hear that? Now, move away,” You rolled your eyes and Jay laughed loving how you talk back at him.

He held your chin and made you face him dropping a kiss over at your lips.

Finally, Jay left you because he have basketball practice and he said he’ll be out till night. It’s okay for you since you’re planning to do something while he’s busy with something else.

It’s been days since you kept on forcing Jay to turn you in. But it’s either he change the subject or he’ll straightly say no. It pissed you off since you were aware of the process of becoming one and you know it’s really possible.

You walked silently towards the football field and go straight over the back of their locker room. There you saw him, squatting down, smoking.

“I knew I would see you here.” you started. The guy snapped his head towards your direction and was a bit stunned to see you there.

“What are you doing here, Jay’s girl?” he asked and take a huff from his cigarette.

You pursed your lips before you let out a heavy sigh, “Can I ask you for a little favor?” you don’t want to waste any time and want to straightforward.

“It depends if we won’t get into trouble with Jay. Why are you even here? Why don’t you ask him for the favor?”

You crossed your arm, “Well, I already did but he refused to.”

He looked at you, trying to guess what you want.

“What is it?”

You were silent of a while before you let out a sigh, “Can you turn me into a vampire?” you suddenly blurted out, getting straightforward.

His eyes grew big for a while as he started coughing after breathing wrongly with his cigarette. You kind of feel bad, so you approach him.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you? This is actually someone approached me for this kind of favor. I thought you were gonna ask me to have sex with you for a second there, I mean that’s what girls usually ask me for a favor.” he was still a bit shock but he managed to stare at you. Now, he noticed the clothes you were wearing.

“So you knew about Jay and he’s feeding on you.” he stated a bit surprised by the situation. He can’t believe this kind of thing was happening right now.

You rolled your eyes, “Are you gonna do the favor or not?” you’re starting to get pissed and you’re actually running out of time. Jay’s practice will be over and you won’t have any time to approach this guy.

“Chill, how did you even know I’m one of them?” your eyes trailed over at his hand that was holding the cigarette.

“That ring, Jay also that kind of old ring. He said it helps him to walk freely in daylight.” you explained.

He nodded actually realizing you were pretty observant of your surrounding. “If you badly want to become one, then why don’t you ask him to turn you?”

“Do you think I didn’t do that? I already did. He kept on refusing.”

“Maybe he have his reasons? Look, I know the sound of living forever and not being able to die is tempting but trust me, it’s not that easy.”

You grew silent. You knew that. Of course you’re aware of that. You think about this a lot and it still brings you to the desire of becoming one.

“Does he know you’re here?” you looked back at him. brows starting to furrow.

“No.”

You saw how he smirked while leaning over the wall, n “That explains why he seems to be really mad.” you didn’t even have the time to ask him. You just saw him pinned over the wall, a mad jay was holding him by the collar.

“Jay!” you panicked and approached closer.

“What do you think are you doing, Yoon?” his eyes were red and fangs were visible. Yoon smirked at him and raised both of his hands.

“I’m not doing anything, Jay. She was the one who went here.” he said. Jay’s mad eyes were not darted over at you.

“He’s right, I went here myself.”

“What were you thinking?! You went there alone at night! You knew he’s a vampire and you still went there.” he was very mad. You made it to his house and you two were now in front of each other, his eyes bloodshot, angry at you.

“I wanted to ask him a favor to turn me in since you kept on declining.”

He eyed you, anger became more even intense. He doesn’t know what to feel when he actually heard that from you. All he know is that he’s angry and worried for you. Seeing you in front of Yoon a while ago made him so mad and jealous. For him, you were just his.

“I know you’re obsessed with vampires but I can’t believe you can be this crazy and desperate of becoming one.” he muttered angrily at you.

You pursed your lips while you stare at your fidgeting hands. You sniffed, tears started to pool your eyes. Slowly, you raised your head to face Jay and look over at his eyes.

“It’s not about my obsession about vampires anymore, Jay.” your tears fell from your eyes as Jay clenched his jaw. He hates it, he doesn’t want to see you crying, but he also wants this to stop. He doesn’t want you luring around another vampire again.

“Then what?”

“When I found out that you were a vampire, wanting to become one is not because of my obsession. It’s because I want to be with you forever.” you cried even more.

Jay’s eyes soften as he watch you, “Knowing that soon I’ll leave you hurts me. I don’t want to leave you, Jay. I love you.”

You cried hardly and cover your face with both of your hands. Jay sighed eyes turning red. He advanced closer and held your arms carefully. He uncovered your face kissing you over at your forehead then cupped your face.

“Do you really mean it?”

You starred right into his eyes as you nod your head. He smiled as he leaned closer kissing your lips.

“Alright,” he mumbled softly and turned your head over at the side then moved your turtleneck. He bite over your neck, making you grunt a little.

He pulled away as he held unto the end of your shirt and take it off of you.

“On your knees in front of me, baby,” he ordered giving you those intense look.

Slowly you followed what he said. Jay starred down at you before he fold his sleeves up to his elbow before he bite his two fingers. You saw how his blood ran down.

He moved it down and placed it in front of your face. You looked at it before you looked back over at Jay.

“Open your mouth for me.” he muttered lowly. You followed and carefully entered his two fingers inside your mouth letting you taste his blood.

“That’s it, every bit.” you drank his blood and felt a bit stranger.

“That’s a good girl.” Jay said before he withdraws his fingers from your mouth then crouched down to kiss over your lips. You moaned when he bite over your lips making you open your mouth, sliding in his mouth and you taste more blood from it.

Jay pulled away and carried you over at his bed, laying you down and showered kisses over you as he whispered over your ears.

“I’ll turn you and keep you forever, y/n. You’re gonna be mine and you will never ever have a chance to leave me.” he said right over your ears.

“I love you, Jay.”

You felt his hands over at your body. He kissed the center of your tummy, up to the middle of your chest, to your neck then grabbed it by his hand. He pulled away and starred right at your eyes, his eyes were red, full of affection for you.

“I love you, y/n.”

main master-list

vampire teaser

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barzzal · 3 years

Text

between halls and thin walls → part three

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: fingering, fem and male receiving, mentions of pornography, sexual/suggestive themes, swearing, mat not knowing how to eat pussy, anddd too much sneaking around i’m hating myself for it

↳ genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+

↳ length: series; part one, part two, part three (8.6k), part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: god is fair, sexy nasty, cinderella, planet god damn by mac miller

note: so sorry for the wait! have been a lot busier with uni :(( took weeks for me to finally sit down and write on my laptop to finish this aaaah anw here’s the update and i’m making it up to yall i hope you like!! happy reading babies <3

“Wait–” you break off, your fingers already weaving through his ever so gorgeous hair.

“What about Tito?” you fret.

You’re sure there was at least a hint of annoyance in his voice. Possibly irked that you had to ruin the one thing you both have been craving for for weeks.

“He won’t come home, trust me.” he says, lips already making its way back to touch your skin, nestling on your jawline, before trailing down to the intricate line of your neck, his movement hasty with a sense of hunger and urgency.

You didn’t mind. It felt good.

“Okay– no. Let’s stop this for a sec.” you try to snap out of it, pushing him away but just enough to keep him within arms reach. You rest both your hands on his broad shoulders whilst he rests his on your hips, just a few inches above your ass.

“We need to clear things out.” you start, eyes lingering on his irises, making you wet your lips at the sight.

“Didn’t we clear things out thrice now?” he quirks his brows, “And it kinda looks like we’re about to clear the same thing for the fourth time. What’s not clear about it?” Mat kids, half laughing as he lets you punch him playfully, “I’m not kidding, Barz.” you say, clearing your throat.

You didn’t mind for any of his double entendres but you did mind the fact that whatever’s about to happen tonight is bound to tip the scales of whatever it was that you were having with Mathew.

“Fine. Let’s talk,” he agrees. He walks towards the bed just as he began pulling his shirt off over his head to undress himself.

“Mathew!” you call him yet again, earning yourself a defensive shrug from him, “What? We’re gonna have sex either way might as well talk while we’re at it, right?” he counters, “Now, take your clothes off.”

Regardless of being annoyed at him for acting like an unreasonable child engaging in too much banter, you let out a laugh in disbelief, letting Mathew’s quirks have a hold on you. You roll your eyes out but do as you’re told and begin taking your shirt off which you then throw his way.

Mat whistles, a smirk sprouting off his lips, evidently in awe of how good you looked half-naked, “Wow.”

You cock up a smirk and shrug to play it off, “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” you turn the compliment back which Mat only reciprocated with a taunting wink, brushing his shoulder briefly like an idiot.

“So. How do you want to play this?” you inquire.

“Naked, I hope.” he laughs, putting his sweats off revealing nothing but his boxers on. When he sees you roll your eyes, yet again, almost wondering if you’re going to bawl it out at any moment, Mat clears his throat and decides to dial down his terrible jokes.

“Fine. Let’s just say we’re doing ‘Friends with Benefits’ or, you know, what was that movie again?” he thinks for a second, snapping his fingers as he gathers a few romantic comedies he’s seen in the past. “No Strings Attached! The one with Natalie Portman! Yeah, that’s the one.” he marvels.

You look at him quite stunned that he’s familiar with these movies. “Wow. I thought you guys are just into full-on pornography and sports.”

“Hey!” he retorts, defending himself at once, “I’m speaking your language, dumbass. And for the record, I don’t like porn.” with that, you let out a loud laugh accompanied by a scoff, obviously not buying any of his lies. To which Mat jumps to defend himself the moment he sees the mocking look in your eyes, “What?? Not all men likes pornography, y/n.”

With both hands on your hips, you arch your brow at him and reply with a revolting grin, “First rule, no lying. I wasn’t born last night, Barzal.”

“Fine. I don’t like it like it.” he points out just as he averts your gaze, “But I’m certainly not against it. Those girls need to make a living, y/n.”

You meet his cocky remark with an exasperated sigh, “You’re such a pig.”

Mat answers with a shrug, letting your judgmental glares slide, “Call me names, I don’t care. You’re the one sleeping with a pig.”

And as if it had been expected all along, it didn’t take long for the both of you to end up in bed, wearing nothing but your skin, breathing in each other’s breaths, gasping as you let yourselves let loose with the company of a friend.

Mathew marvels at the sight of your heaving chest whilst his head was wedged in between your thighs, going on endless circles as he nibbles on your clit, perhaps trying a little too hard to make you meet your high.

What the fuck is he doing? is probably what every girl has asked herself when a man goes down on her thinking that he already got her all figured out.

Mathew knew what he was doing to be fair. He was there. For the most part. His fingers were nothing but magic but his mouth was a different subject. It was almost as if he was overachieving something. Kind of like the way he does during plays that would eventually cause them the game.

He’s in his head a little too much. That’s for sure. You didn’t want to ruin the moment so you decide to let it slide and put on your best suit. After all, it wasn’t the first time you had to fake your sexual orgasms. You weren’t entirely surprised though. Half of the men you’ve gone out with didn’t know shit about eating pussy. And Mat was pretty, at least he had that going on for him.

You bit your lower lip, trying to suppress the fact that you weren’t enjoying it. Mat was doing all sorts of things at once and it was all too much. Too much that you’d rather finish the job yourself than have someone licking your region like a fucking chew toy.

As much as you didn’t want to, you arch your back and let out a fake moan, curling your fingers on the sheets, the other tugging on Mat’s hair, staging the perfect scene Mat had wanted to see. He emerges from below and hovers on top of you with a proud grin on his face, oblivious of the dramatic pin you’ve successfully put into the night.

“And that, my friend,” he smirks, “is how you do it.”

Oh, believe me, it is not. You try to smile, “Hm. It’s that easy, huh?”

“Well, yeah. Think of it like a scrimmage.” he says as he starts to pepper kisses on your cheeks, his hands roaming around your body, compensating for what his mouth missed. “Or a shootout even.”

“I’m thinking no.” you deny, “Rule two, if talking hockey is your definition of dirty talk, you better zip it.” you stress out as you prop your leg around his waist in order for you to move on top of him.

Mat chuckles, trying to mask how much he longed to feel your mouth envelop his member. There hasn’t been a day where the image of you sucking his length didn’t enter his mind. It didn’t matter where he was. Whether he was in the shower, on the road with the boys, leaving for practice, or just tying his skates. He wanted nothing more than to look down at you as your little tears revolt to escape your doe eyes whilst you take him whole. Indeed, it was a sight for Mathew. And god knows how much he’s willing to give just to see it again.

You spit just as you kiss the tip of his shaft, stroking his length in a circular motion to spread your saliva on his cock before you proceed on pressing gentle kisses on his head; edging him for not letting you cum— unconsciously wanting him to know how to give a goddamn head the right way.

You patiently went your way as you began taking him in your mouth, inching down his thickness without breaking off of his dark and lustful gaze. Mat rests his head on the headboard, his breathing growing heavy and hoarse whilst he watches his dick be consumed by your hollowing cheeks, sucking the life out of him.

“Fuck. You’re so good.” he groans, pulling your hair with his free hand before guiding you further down his dick. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Flattered by his praises which you find undeniably hot, you pop him out of your mouth, letting all your spit drip onto it just before gathering it back once you start licking him underneath, sucking on his balls as your tongue goes on little circles, playing with it for a while before letting it go with a loud pop.

You watch Mat lose his mind with every movement you make but you know full well not to let him come in your mouth. It’s bad enough you didn’t get to come the first time he tried tonight. You won’t have yourself seeing the light of day high and dry while Mat gets to doze off the second you leave for his door.

You climb on top of him. Mat was rather quick to let his hands find its way to your hips, your pussy sitting on his flat stomach just enough to let him know how wet you still are for him in spite of not getting the fun you’ve wanted for your own.

“Where’s the rubber?” you ask him. Mat props himself quickly and carefully shifts towards his bedside table. You feel him on your back, poking on your skin whilst he pulls out one of the drawers. He fishes a wrapped condom straight from the box which he then swiftly opens with his teeth, motioning for you to get off of him first so he could get settled.

“Ready?” you ask him, “Ready.”

Mat rolls over and secures you in between his hands resting on both sides of your head. You feel his head poking against your abdomen as he finally takes his shaft to rub it in between you far too moistened slit just before he takes the plunge and dive deep.

“So,” you struggle to find the words as Mat finally starts making up for his loss a while ago. Your fingers envelop his nape, digging on his skin as you let himself adjust inside you. Stretching you whole with barely half his dick pushing through you. Thank god this was one of the many things Mat definitely did not suck at.

“Wanna walk me through this whole set up?”

Mathew groans, his chest hard against yours as he pumps inside you at a steady pace; one that was pleasurably slow. One that had you closing your eyes whilst you let your head sink into his pillows.

Despite working his way on tending to too many things at once, with his thumb brushing on one of your nipples, his lips attached to your earlobes, and his free hand secured on your hips, Mat whispers in your ear. “It’s like what we’ve agreed on that night.” he breathes heavily, his mind trailing off to that night momentarily before he speaks again, “We’re friends.”

“And?” you whine as you feel his wet lips brush briefly on your sensitive skin just enough to send chills up your spine, making you crave more of his touch; a grave wanting kindling inside your gut like fire.

“Friends…” he repeats in between kisses, “who likes to do this.” his lips travel from the corner of your lips and onto your jaw line. He then lets himself pull away just so he could look you in the eye, all whilst maintaining both your bodies moving in sync as you follow his lead.

“You do know that things like this almost never work, right?” you honestly say, telling him the very same thing you’ve told him when you first crossed the line and threw everything you’ve progressively built with him throughout the years of being Anthony’s best friends.

“Almost is good enough for me.” he counters with a husky voice, feeling constrained by how tight your pussy was around him. It had been a while and Mat was going insane just by thinking about how your cunt was made exactly for him. It was absurd for him to think such a thing but he would not deny the sensation coursing through his veins as if sex had become something entirely new to him. That you have miraculously been able to paint something far better than what he’s already gotten used to for who knows how long; luring him into the worst kind of addiction he could get himself into. And although Mathew wanted to hate himself that it had to happen with you, he knew he couldn’t.

“Let’s not have secrets,” he suggests. You raise both your brows, quite intrigued that he requested such a thing. “We’re not that close to have secrets, Barzal.” you remind him.

“Exactly!” he cheers, voice briefly rising as you let out a moan escape when he pushes himself deeper through your heated walls. Mat hurriedly locks your mouth with his, swallowing all your moans before continuing with his case.

“That’s the point. We’re not that close so we shouldn’t be keeping anything from each other. You tell me everything. Good or bad, and I’ll do the same.”

You shoot him a questioning look, pushing him briefly so you could position yourself on top of him. Your action was very much well-received on Mathew’s end and it’s amazing how he’s able to lift you close to his torso before the two of you roll over the switch-game without letting his dick slip out of you.

“Are you saying we’re going to be in a relationship? You’re way over your head, mister.” you laugh because it was exactly what it sounded. At least for you.

Mat rolls his eyes as he takes a pillow to support his back. His hands then roamed from your thighs before settling to cage your hips to lock it with his, “First of all, bold of you to assume that’s ever gonna happen.”

You scoff.

“Second, it’s more of a mutual agreement and definitely less than a relationship.” he points out to reiterate that having said ‘relationship’ with you was the last thing he wanted.

Your hands take rest atop his chest as you start working on rocking your hips at a gentle pace; the kind that had Mathew at a loss for words for a moment, his body taking over his mind as your physique towers all over him. Mathew meets you halfway while you do most of the work. He angles himself forward so as to reach for your tits, his mouth latching on one of your buds, thirsty like a newborn child. Your fingers find their way to his tousled hair, its disheveled state unbelievably making him much more difficult to resist.

The two of you worked each of your own highs whilst you rock each other’s bodies. Exchanging moans and groans thrown carelessly throughout the room. You were all over Mathew as much as he was with you. His strong and capable hands that moved so well on your body, made you crave for more. Mathew took control of the pace now, his arms embracing your waist closer to his body that no amount of spatial space could ever be perceived by either of you.

“Come for me.” Mat orders, voice almost inaudible as he was chasing his own, the moment he feels you throb rapidly around him, fluttering like butterflies while he watches you shut your eyes. Just like that, you finally reach the ecstasy you’ve been longing for the whole night; one that was specifically shut down by Mathew’s stale mouth.

You let Mat take over. He orders you to turn your back against him before he pulls you rapidly close to his front, your ass perked up close to his skin. His mouth leaves fashioned bites on your neck whilst he held you firmly by your forearm. Mathew begins pounding on you hard from behind, his sharp and abrupt movements painting bruises you know will show up the next morning.

You were all over the place and you didn’t care. It was messy, it was loud. The sound Mathew’s lips leave on your skin, his balls banging against your pussy, your moans— his groans. Everything was off the record book but neither of you wanted to stop.

With one final thrust, you feel his body grow all the more rigid behind you. Mathew’s hand was wrapped firmly around your neck whilst he caught his breath.

“You good back there, bud?” you ask, chuckling.

“Oh, shut up.” he says, finally letting you go.

The two of you gather yourselves. Mat discards the wrapper and offers to clean up after the mess he’d made but you profusely decline.

“I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t have to take care of me.” you tell him with a strong suit as you begin picking up your clothes.

“I know–” he cuts himself off when he sees you getting into your pants, “Where are you going?” he questions.

“Rule four. No staying the night.” you point out, grabbing your sweatshirt from the floor. “You come to my room, I come to yours, but that’s that. No more, no less.” you add.

Mathew looks stunned. Obviously on board with how well you were taking things so easily.

“Alright then, buddy.” he strides his way towards his bed still naked.

“We don’t speak about any of this in the morning.” you warn him for you know how the three of you tend to leave the house almost at the same exact time as each other. Meaning that this new setup of yours is bound to be much difficult if you let anything slip off your hold.

Mathew runs his fingers on his lips as if to zip it before he jumps on the bed, already reaching for his phone that was on his bedside table so he could check the gram.

You were just on your way out of his door when he called you one last time, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, “What’s rule five?”

“No funny business.” you say at once. You look at him one last time with your own teasing smile to mock him from across the room, “No strings attached.” you say, repeating how he used the movie as a reference from a while back before finally disappearing into the hall.

𖥸

Who would have known agreeing to such a set up would mean getting laid almost every chance you get?

It had been a few weeks since you and Mat committed to your foolish escapades after sorting out your mutual agreement. Said escapades involve a handful of times of you driving over to the Coli to pick him up right after his morning skate and get off the back of your car. It wasn’t that big of a deal being that Mathew usually rides with Anthony for work. Of course, there were also times where you would call him into your office just to grab a quick lunch. On those times you always make sure to leave out at least half an hour or so before going home to avoid unnecessary suspicions from Tito and you and Mathew have been mindful so as not to let him notice anything.

Mat had mentioned how he was already looking for a place nearer to yours and Tito’s but farther than his previous complex. The place was half an hour less than the travelling time Tito had to drive to from when they used to ride together going home. And now that you were officially friends and more than just acquaintances, Mat has asked you to come and see the place with him.

You took a lift on your way to Mat’s and let’s just say, that for a man with a whopping 21M at his disposal, the building was grand but it wasn’t as boujee as you’ve expected. It might’ve been your lack of a better judgement but Mathew just didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who would be smart when it comes to his finances. You’ve always thought that he was the kind to splurge on things whenever he gets the chance. Although much to your surprise, just like everyone else, he was a simple man.

You knock on the door a few times before you hear the familiar footsteps nearing the front door.

“Hey,” a signature grin welcomes you. He opens the door wider and invites you in. “Took you long enough.”

“Well, I had better things to do, Barzal.” you retort as you start to scan the vicinity.

The flat had floor to ceiling windows so the surroundings were well lit. You were making your way further when you noticed a few sealed boxes laying around what you assumed to be where the living space was going to be.

“I thought you were just looking?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion whilst you look back at him, pointing on the storages with your thumb.

As expected, the entire apartment was painted in white and beige tones. Pretty much like every Islander’s home you’ve been to. It was quite spacious just like his former home. That being said, spacious doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good’ sometimes. For one thing, it didn’t feel home to you. It felt like a cage with huge-ass windows overlooking a scenery you can’t even lay your hand on. You keep your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to ruin Mat’s excitement for the place. Sure enough, it’ll all come together once he gets settled.

Mat walks towards you, taking a deep breath. “I was. But the offer was really good so I figured signing the lease right away would be a smart move.” he explains. When he sees your gaze trail off onto the boxes again, Mat feels the need to reassure you that he wasn’t going to move out of your apartment just yet.

“I won’t be moving in for another month or two, just to be clear. Those are just some stuff I didn’t want hogging all the space at home.” he says candidly pertaining to your apartment as his home, not even realizing the weight he had tied to his words.

You were quick to dismiss your own unsolicited thoughts and carried on with the semi-tour Mat was starting to indulge you with. “Are you sure you’re gonna live here alone? Feels like a whole penthouse up here.” you honestly say, half-laughing as you make way towards the hallway.

“Yeah. I mean, it would be great for when the team comes over.” he says as he follows your tracks. “The penthouse is actually two floors above mine though.”

You roll your eyes at his subtle remark, “Why’d you made me come here anyway?”

And as if Mat had remembered the task he originally had in mind, he walks right past you to lead the way. “I want your opinion on something.”

“Really? What is it?” you inquire, following after his footsteps. Mat stops and opens a door leading to what you assume is the master bedroom. Situated at the center of the fairly spacious room is a california king sized bed, waiting patiently to be slept on.

Mat looks back at you and says, “D’you think it’s any good?”

He lets you roam around the place, setting yourself down on the foot of the bed. “Bed’s nice actually.” you tell him and you stand at once to look more of his semi-furnished room.

“How nice is it exactly? Like, nice to sleep on or nice to not get any at all?” you turn around, rolling your eyes at his sleazy innuendos. “You’re such a tool. You really made me come all the way here to get me tied down this bed?”

Mat only answers with a shrug. An adorable one to be exact. “What? That’s what friends are for, y/n. Now, come on. Test the bed with me.” he says, taking your hand at once before you could even answer. He lets himself fall onto the bed as he caught your weight in his arms, your bodies dangerously close to each other, feeling your own body temperatures.

His hands roam around your clothed physique just as he starts to cage you in a well heated kiss. Your lips dance with his, letting his tongue slip whenever he gets the chance, nibbling on your tongue as the two of you enjoy exchanging your own take on what house warming gifts are supposed to look like.

Mat’s hands were already gripping on the curve of your ass when the sound of your and Mathew’s kisses were stopped by a sudden knock on the door. Your hand immediately trailed down from Mat’s nape to his chest, “Are you expecting someone?”, he thinks for a second, both of his hands still secured on your bottoms.

“Oh!” he gasps upon remembering who could it possibly be, “It’s probably my realtor. He’s picking some stuff up, I’ll go get it.” he says, propping himself up as a cue for you to get off of him.

“Would you mind getting the door? I’ll be quick, I promise.” he adds, looking back at you as he steps out of the room, heading for the other side of the hallway. He speaks in an apologetic tone, feeling sorry for having to cut off the purpose of your visit. So, in an effort to let him know he had nothing to worry about, you shake your head as you finish straightening the wrinkles off your work clothes.

“No, it’s all right, I got it.” you give him a reassuring smile.

You gladly make your way towards the door, not even bothering to look through the hole. You hand enveloped the cold metal, swinging the door wide open, leaving yourself not a chance at escape as soon as your eyes landed on those all too familiar big blue ones you’ve known all your life.

“Y/N?” a puzzled expression was all you could make out of Tito’s face. You tried stumbling for a few words in the hopes of calming your already racing heart impending to escape your chest at any moment.

“What are you doing here?” he asks in utmost bewilderment. You were still in shock being that you’ve never lied to Anthony before since he’s the only one you’ve told everything to most of the time. Having him here, clearly unexpected, has evidently thrown you off guard.

You maintain your gaze at him and throw the same question back, “What are you doing here?”

“Mat and I are going out with Mikey and Noah for drinks.” he answers quickly so he could throw the ball your way, “You didn’t answer me. I didn’t know you knew about this place already?” he furrows his brows, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of his best mate.

“Uhm. Mat called me to discuss a few things. Showed me some stuff too.” you nervously say, tip toeing on the fact that what you just told him wasn’t entirely a lie. You open the door all the way and finally let him in. Your knuckles were wrapped hard around the cold metal knob, wishing that Mat would come out to the room to save your ass.

You must have gotten on a wrong foot and told Tito a lie that’s bound to invite more suspecting queries.

“Really? What stuff?”

His bed, where he was just about to defile me on.

Thankfully, Mat walks out the open room holding an envelope in his hand, immediately halting his tracks the moment he sees Anthony looking straight at him.

“Beau! What–” he tries to remain composed, but you know Tito would definitely pick up on something just by how pale Mat’s face was. Dead and cold like someone who had seen a ghost for the first time.

“What— am I doing here?” Anthony finishes Mat’s question just as he turns his gaze back at you. You try to avert his gaze but you figured it’s best not to. You need to go before him strong and level headed. The last thing you and Mathew want is to get caught in the act by no other than the last person you want to know about it.

“What?” He laughs, brushing Tito’s biting tone off. “I know why you’re here, silly.” he tries to search in his head momentarily, but when he takes long enough, Tito answers it for him. “Drinks, man. You texted me for drinks.”

“Oh– yeah, no. I knew that.” he breathes out an uneasy laugh.

“Why is Y/N here? I didn’t know you guys hung out? The last time I checked you can’t even last in the same room without slashing each other’s throats.” he smirks.

Surprisingly, Mat was fast enough to come up with quite a clever way to sway Anthony from his inkling suspicions. One that made sense, but not necessarily helpful in your end. “Psh. That?” Mat throws a hand towards your way, dismissing your presence in his unfurnished apartment, “She told me she needs money so I hired her to move my boxes for me. She even insisted on listing all the stuff I’ll eventually get rid of online.”

Anthony looks back at you, surprised that you didn’t go and asked for his help instead. “How much do you pay her?” he asks Mat again.

“Uh, five… ten bucks?” Mat scratches the back of his head and your face immediately falls to your palm.

“Ten?” he questions, glancing at you. “Don’t you have your own office and a secretary? What do you need the ten bucks for?” Tito’s tone was now getting more curious and Mat, just like he always was, was dumb enough to forget you were earning more than just ten bucks for a living.

“Did I say ten? I meant fifty— per hour.” Mathew takes it back instantly, following it with a lie that involves you asking him for a job because your publisher ordered you to for a book she wants you to sign for. Not that any of it made sense but at least Anthony seemed to have bought it. When you agree, Mat immediately takes Anthony in his arms as he guides him out to the door, snatching his coat resting atop his kitchen island.

Mat looks over to you once more, both of their bodies already at the other side of the door, “You did great today, y/n. I’ll write you a check in the morning!” he says pushing Tito, who was still asking questions, farther from the door.

Before Mathew disappears, he looks at you with his big doe eyes already thanking you for going along such a stupid make-up excuse. You roll your eyes as you watch him mouth a quiet ‘Sorry’, flashing his ever so gorgeous smile before him and Tito finally went on their way.

𖥸

You’ve gotten used to how lazy Mat and Tito are during their off days. They would rather stay at home and play endless video games with each other than spending it with something less dumb than their stupid Xbox. Luckily, today wasn’t like those days because you happened to have your free day as well. You all agreed to spend the evening binging the entire Fast and Furious franchise.

The three of you were cramped on the cloud couch. To put it in simply, you were sandwiched between two huge hockey players. Your back was leaning on Tito’s strong shoulders as it was laying just above your head. The huge bowl of half-eaten popcorn safely sits in between your middle, hugged by your stomach and your curled up legs, your sock-covered feet brushing against Mat’s thighs innocently. Almost as innocent as how you ignore Mathew’s hands creeping underneath the thick wool covering your body.

Alarmed at how dangerously close Mat’s creeping palm was to your inner thigh, you shot him a warning look which was, as expected, answered by a defensive, and seemingly harmless “What?” look on his face. You roll your eyes, cautious as to not make any sharp movements for the benefit of Tito. You shift your position, angling your body away from Mathew and towards the direction of the screen instead. You let your body sink in your best friend’s shoulder, clueless that your movement had just given Mat the exact opening he was hoping for.

With wide eyes, you give Mat’s thigh a firm nudge as carefully as you can, “Are you being serious right now?” you mouthed. Mat stifles a smirk and moves his hand away, keeping it to himself. You try turning your attention back to the television but somehow, Mathew’s actions left your mind wondering what he was about to do next.

Gently, you stir back to your original position, propping yourself from leaning against Tito.

“Hey, could you please fill this up for me?” you ask him nicely. Thankfully, Anthony reaches out for the bowl without letting his eyes break off the screen. “Thanks, Beau.” you add the moment he starts walking towards the kitchen.

“Why’d you stop?” you cautiously whisper, asking Mathew who was surprised by your sudden inquiry.

“I thought you didn’t want me to.” he answers on the same level of your tone, putting his hand back on your shin. The warmth of his palm sends a familiar sensation down your region.

Looking back at the archway leading to the kitchen, you quietly tell him, “I asked if you’re being serious. I never said no.”

Your candidness was met by Mathew’s widening smile, incapable of stopping himself from biting his lower lip, finding your bluntness quite adorable. “Be quiet.” he mutters as he clears his throat, eyeing Tito who was just returning from the kitchen holding a bowl full of popcorn fresh from the microwave.

“Thank you.” you say the moment Anthony hands you the bowl. You scootch over, making you a lot closer to Mat. Tito places his arm back over the couch, allowing extra space for you. Once you got yourself in a position comfortable enough to last for the remaining half of the movie, your mind flies away, briefly forgetting the exchange you and Mathew just had.

It was not even a full minute when you feel Mat’s very much capable hand start creeping underneath the thick cloth again. You swallow a giant lump in your throat, your senses already heightened just by the mere contact of his rough and calloused hand on your skin.

You were wearing a pair of sweat shorts, the kind that were loose enough to let Mat maneuver his way deeper down your thighs so effortlessly. You steal quick glances towards his way but to no avail, Mat’s eyes were nowhere else other than the screen. His fingers, however, told quite a different story.

You did the exact thing as him and put your sole focus on the movie. The sound of Anthony’s breathing was a good reminder to not let anything slip off of you unconsciously, especially now that Mat’s long fingers were inching its way to the thin fabric covered by your night wear.

Mat begins to brush his middle finger over your delicates. You bury a part of your face underneath the thick cloth whilst your eyes are still pinned on the screen. The scene where Dom goes rogue plays and the light of the television flashes before your eyes.

You tried to listen to Tito when he tells you about that time you went to the movies to see the film, trying to space out from Mat’s finger drawing idle circles on the thin fabric of your underwear, easing you just right, evidently taking his time fondling in between your clothed lips.

When he feels your moistness on his skin, Mat sophisticatedly slides a finger in your underwear just so he could feel the wetness of your folds.

You on the one hand, keep your face hidden under the only light flashing from the screen. You manage to choke down your whimpers and instead lean your force towards the bowl you’re holding. However, you fail to stifle a gasp when Mat slides a finger inside you, making you stir just enough to stop your sudden movement from being unnoticed by Beauvillier.

“You okay?” he asks, a concerned tone embracing his voice. You meekly nod, saying that you were just too caught up watching the film. He then takes his attention back, pretty much like the grinning Mathew sitting on the other end.

You shoot a knowing look when you meet Mat’s irises. He casually plays it off just as he remains busy on his own, his fingers curling inside you with ease, pumping in and out at a slow pace, not wanting to let any of his movements show on the surface of your blanket. As Mat continues pleasuring you, you gather all your strength to stay still and calm your breathing. To no prevail however, knowing how good of a fucker Mat was, you knew you won’t be able to hold it in longer than you’re supposed to.

Your heart almost beats right out your chest when Anthony’s phone starts to ring. You prop yourself up, causing Mat’s finger to do just the same inside you. You shut your eyes at the feeling and chose to clear your throat.

Anthony takes his phone and looks at the two of you, “I need to take this. Just watch the movie without me.” he says, already standing to head for the balcony at the other side of the room. You sigh in relief, letting yourself fall back on where Tito used to sit, allowing more space for Mat’s miraculous fingers.

He adjusts his seat, cautiously looking back after Tito’s track just to make sure he was no longer near the two of you. He looks at you, attention faltering from the screen as he slides another finger inside you.

“Don’t make a sound. Stay still.” he orders, pumping his way in just as he glides his thumb to massage your clit. Your hand takes rest on your forehead, your eyes closed at every pleasure thrown your way, almost forgetting that you were holding a bowl full of finger food on your stomach. Mat must’ve caught on and ensured no unnecessary noises would make Anthony come back just yet when he takes the bowl off your middle to set it down the coffee table.

“Fucking hell, Mat.” you can’t help but moan, arching your back once you feel your arousal come close.

“Do it, y/n. Come on my fingers.” he growls in a low register, moving his way into hitting the spot at just the right speed, not wanting to prolong your misery any longer.

You reach for his hands, your grip on him tighter than ever. Mat feels you come around his finger, eyes pinned on your spent up state harder than it was when the two of you were still watching the movie. When he feels your pulsating core starts to die down, he slips his fingers out your slit, eventually taking it in his mouth to suck your far too addicting juices.

You fix yourself up, eyeing Tito who had just ended his call. Mat looks at you, quite proud of himself.

“At least your fingers make up for what that pretty mouth can’t.” you say with a taunting smirk before standing up to get yourself a glass of water just as Beau finally comes back from the balcony, leaving Mathew with his mouth slightly agape and without a doubt dumbfounded.

𖥸

It was an hour before midnight but the house was already asleep. The boys had to call the night early because of the morning practice they have first thing tomorrow. But you still had some energy left so you figured drawing yourself a calming bath would help soothe your mind and maybe even up the chances of having yourself a well-deserved good night’s sleep.

Now that you’re feeling better and getting ready for bed, your bathrobe hugs your body whilst you finish off your night routine so you could finally dip into the comfort of your sheets, the cream white duvet calling onto you as you picture yourself dozing off for the night.

The strides you were just making out of your bathroom were put into a stop by how your door sprung open wildly, revealing one troubled Mathew Barzal entering your room almost a little too carelessly.

“What the hell did you mean my mouth can’t?!” he questions at once, hissing. When he realizes the sudden rise in his voice, (which has also startled you in the process), Mathew immediately looks back just to make sure that Anthony was in his room, or far enough to hear. He shuts the door behind him before he finally turns his attention back to you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask him, putting both your hands on your hips, your body covered by nothing else but a bathrobe.

“The thing you said back in the living room, my mouth can’t what? What the hell did that suppose to mean??” Mat roars like a child’s impending tantrum was about to come. You avert his gaze for a moment, scratching your temple. You couldn’t believe something you’ve said stuck to him. Not that he’d ever do anything about it. Something you most absolutely doubt.

“If you had to come here to ask me that, I’m pretty sure you already got what I meant.” you say, walking towards your bed as you get the bottle of your vanilla scented lotion from your bedside table.

“But all those times it looked like you were having a good time?” he speaks, voice in a lower register as if he was talking to himself all along.

“I was faking it Mat.” you finish off applying lotion on your legs, spreading the remaining on your hands. You met Mat’s gaze and saw that you might’ve tipped him off a little for there was a faint hurt in his eyes.

“You were faking it?” he repeats in a quiet voice.

“You’re still good in bed, buddy.” you assure him with a smile yet to no prevail, Mat didn’t seem to buy any of what you said thinking that it was just a decent effort to save his ego already plummeting to the pit of his own embarrassment.

“How many times have you been faking it?” he asks the moment he gathers his thoughts, his mind circling on the fact that all throughout this time he wasn’t able to get you off.

“You’ve only had the chance to do it twice. So… just those two.” you answer honestly.

Mathew, who was utterly clueless to what was going on didn’t know how to react to such bluntness. He tried to mutter a few words but he was speechless. All this time, he thought he was good at something he obviously wasn’t. And being told something as morally immobilizing as that shocks him to his very core. The horror of all the girls he’s slept with, walking out of his apartment unsatisfied befalls on him.

“You should’ve told me, otherwise this whole setup won’t make any sense, y/n. I thought you said we shouldn’t lie?” he questions, evidently disappointed in himself.

“Look,” you stop, tapping on the side of the bed to have a proper conversation. When Mat finally sits beside you, you continue, “I didn’t think it mattered. And no offense but we both know you’re such a sore loser. I didn’t know how you would react. And I definitely didn’t want to deal with any of the messy stuff just to feed your ego.”

“For your information, I’m a thick faced motherfucker, you should’ve known that by now. This thing between us is going to be complicated if you’ll tiptoe your way around it just to spare my feelings.” he says with certainty, a definitive tone accentuated by how intense he was now looking at your face, still glowing from your night care routine.

“Is there something I don’t do?” he adds, “Or is it something that I should stop doing?”

“Fine. If you really wanna talk about this I’ll tell you.” you angle yourself facing him and Mat does the same, “You’re not entirely bad. You do know your way around. It’s just that— you’re trying a little too hard and it gets really overwhelming at times. And mind you, it isn’t even the good kind,”

“Show me.” Mat cuts you before you could grab the chance to continue, stopping you mid sentence, causing you to stumble on a few words. “What?”

“I won’t leave this room knowing I can’t get you off.” he says, and just like that, Mathew meets your lips with an all too hungry mouth eager to make you come for him even if it takes having to have endless runs at it.

Your body achingly responds to every bit of Mathew’s kisses whilst you let him run the course. His touches are tantalizing, urging you to come near him. He takes you in his arms, one fondling on your robe to pull it free from your body, the other tugging lightly on your hair just as he begins to move his weight on top of you.

“Tell me what you want.” Mat breathes the moment he breaks away, his mouth now travelling down the skin where your shoulder meets your neck, leaving faint bites, nibbling on it just before he makes his way down to fondle on your breasts.

You answer him with a muffled moan when he takes your lips yet again. Mat’s irises unwaveringly gazes on your buck nakedness, your scent just enough to take over his senses. You feel the roughness of his hands graze all over your skin. Pinching on one of your buds just before it travels down your thighs, staying out of the place where he knew you needed him most. You feel him in every inch of your skin but there.

But just as you want him more, Mat purposely leaves it out of his hold. You begin to realize how much you must’ve underestimated what this forward could do. His hands were everything and you couldn’t even put into words how much you need him down there.

“Mat…” you call out his name, groaning. His featherlight touches flowed smoothly on your inner thigh, grazing just your lips but even that was more than enough to tell him how wet you already were for him.

He begins to leave wet kisses in between your breasts down to your stomach. Kisses that eventually made their way to your thighs as he inched his way to your core, the sloppy noise he makes sounds so beautiful in your ears. You look down on Mat trying to compose yourself under all the breathing he’s subtly passing your middle.

“What do you want?” Mat asks again, this time his doe eyes meeting yours, clouded with lust and desire. You buck your hips upward in an effort to meet his mouth but Mat was rather quick to put you back in your place when he cages your hips with his capable arm.

“Use your words, y/n.” he orders, one that has effortlessly made you oblige. You wanted to feel him more than anything else and if that meant submitting to Mat this time, you know full well you’d gladly break before him.

“I want you to get me off.” you surrender, signaling him to take the plunge. Once he did, you let out a whimper at his touch, almost forgetting that Mathew was probably doing this so he could eat out his future girl right.

“Don’t rush.” you breathed as you guided him, “Stay slow and steady.”

Mathew’s eyes never left yours even when you had to look away when you let your head fall back on your sheets with how well he was moving with everything you say.

“Mathew…” you moan, reaching for his hair to take him closer to your throbbing core, “Go on circles, please.”

Mat was obedient and followed your every command. Unlike the times he’s spent trying to pleasure you with his mouth, tonight was a time where he actually listened and gave you exactly what you wanted, exactly how you want it.

Mat didn’t have to do anything else for when he started to slip into your cunt and fuck you with his tongue, you going insane was more than enough to let him know that he was doing it right. He watched you fall before him, your chest heaving, your breathing rapid as if there wasn’t enough air for you to breathe. He entwines both his fingers atop your abdomen, the sound of you calling his name like a prayer doing all kinds of wonders on his end.

You meet his eyes yet again just to see that it never left. Mat looked at you darker than ever before and for once, you feel a firm tug in your stomach you just weren’t ready to acknowledge and care for. As he takes time with his final strokes, knowing that you were close, Mat pulls away, thinking about the one thing he knows will redeem himself.

“Turn around.” he orders with a grim voice. You were in dire need of an orgasm to even care about how he’s the one ordering you. You gladly oblige to his every whim and turned to your belly, your ass perked up so perfectly for him.

He lets your robe fall just above your back, revealing more of your skin for him to enjoy. He takes no second to waste and kneels before your already swollen pussy. Needy and very much heated for him.

Mat’s hands spread your cheeks before he takes you in his mouth once again, letting himself drown in your juices glinting under his all too heavy gaze.

“Oh, god.” you whine, feeling Mat’s grin behind you as you dig into your sheets while your legs begin to shake at your incoming orgasm. “Mat, please.” you call out in a whimper, pushing your ass back further his face.

Mat gladly takes the challenge but maintains at the pace you wanted. As he feels your pussy flutter in his mouth, he deepens it into yours to finally pour you with nothing else but ecstasy and ecstasy alone.

His face was filled with nothing but your juices once he pulled away, leaving you breathless and still caught up on meeting your high. He stands, a hand gripping on one of your cheeks whilst he admires the art that is: your all too spent pussy.

“Next time you lie, you won’t get to fake it at all.” he warns with a firm yet definitive voice masked as a taunting remark.

Mat looks at your still throbbing pussy, eyes lustful and dark. As much as he craved for the inkling fire resting in his loins, it was already past midnight and he had self-discipline stronger than anyone else’s. He couldn’t afford any more scolding from Anders the next morning.

So, even when he wanted nothing but to fuck you right then and there, he lets his hand send a message he certainly wants you to remember instead. One that has left a faint yet stinging mark on your skin. Your legs were practically still wobbling when he finally leaves for the door, this time fueled with the purpose of being the one leaving you dumbfounded in your own post-orgasm shame.

Perhaps, even wanting and more.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal smut #nhl smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey smut #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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kashimos-hajime · 3 years

Text

homestretch of the hard times | g.t.

summary: the eve days of your potential death kinda spurns things to move forward: for takemura, it means confessions. for you, it means making exceptions. and drinks. ‘cause takemura’s the pickiest fucking eater you’ve ever met.

WARNINGS: small spoilers for act 1 of cyberpunk 2077 and references to non-spoiler texts between takemura and v, just fluff, small angst, swearing, idk what else is going on so if there are actual spoilers thats completely coincedental ndlnskfsldnf pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.6k

a/n: so cdpr did us dirty for not allowing us to romance him (to my knowledge) but he has my mind, heart and everything else so :) listened to the bones by maren morris w/ hozier

part of the tales of a two-bit thief series

It starts with something straight out of a romance movie: A car crash, saving each other’s lives (well, him more than you) and “Wait, V, I need you.”

You don’t know how you got here, to be precise. There were a chain of events, some absolutely stand up fucking moments on your part, and just… fuckery. So much fuckery and life went to shit.

All you know is the ticking time bomb’s only ticking louder and at this point, the only thing that can silence it at all is the man beside you. Not even the meds Misty gave you can help you now.

You’re sitting in his car because you called him and he had answered and now… now they’re on one of the off ramps looking over Night City like they own the fucking place.

Maybe you did, once. Ha, maybe back when everything seemed more job to job and not life to life. For a moment, maybe you were in the big leagues.

Takemura doesn’t say anything, even though you can tell he wants to. His hair still pulled into that man bun, collared shirt with not a single wrinkle in sight. Weird how he never looks out of place, not really. Not even with the car crash. Shit, he always looked good.

You think you’re actually gonna miss that. That one semblance of someone being put together that gave you the hope that maybe you could stick it too.

You think you’re gonna miss a lot of things about him—from his stupid complaints about the food here, to his stupid random philosophy texts in the day, to the fact that he eats the ramen you buy anyway without complaint, even though it’ll never compare to what he has in Japan.

The thought that counts.

They don’t even have the radio on, just the dim lights of the car, a window rolled down. You don’t smoke but you feel like you should be tapping a cig either way. You haven’t had the time to just fucking breathe—not with Silverhand breathing down your neck, corpo rats swarming you on all sides.

Everyone wants a piece of you, it feels like.

You look at Takemura.

Almost everyone.

“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, with difficulty. It’s hard to get through your words without thinking Silverhand’s behind your back, mocking you. You’re so fucking tired. “It hasn’t been easy.”

He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy looking at one of the cars nearly collide with a pedestrian. You could’ve laughed. You used to make fun of the shitty drivers in Night City, knowing full well you’re one of them.

You get chased by a couple of cops, rules start to bend.

You used to wonder why you never left.

Then, you actually left, and you realized that hell, you can take the person out of Night City—can’t take the Night City out of a person.

Atlanta fucking sucked, but maybe you should’ve stayed there.

But then, a tiny voice whispers as you look out the window to the fresh night wind. You never would’ve met him.

It’s funny, you think. To come back and get a brain tumour in the shape of a rocker who can’t fucking touch anyone who loves him, who he loved, only for you to fall in love with a corpo you can’t fucking touch at all because… because there is no time left. It just isn’t fair.

“I used to be a corpo kid,” you confess, looking at him with a wry smile again. That catches his attention. He looks at you with those eyes that scrutinize you, interrogate you, peel you apart to your bare essentials and you have to look away before you can’t control your face anymore. God fucking damn it. “Not when it mattered, obviously, but… I remember what it was like. Grew up hating every single on of them.”

“Your parents were Arasaka?”

“Mhm. Security division.” It’s like your eyes are magnetic to his because when you blink, you find yourself regarding him again. Your fingers play at your lips. “Counterintelligence. I was supposed to go into that, too. Big dreams.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, then my parents were tried for treason and murdered, so I got thrown out. That’s it.” Your hand falls away. You pick at the chipped nail polish on your thumb. “Never told anyone that. ‘Cept…” Jackie. Well, he’s fucking dead, now. “‘Cept you, now, I guess. Guess some corpos aren’t so bad.”

The corner of his mouth pinches up like he’s flattered and you can’t help the pleased warmth spreading through your chest.

“Should I be honoured I am one of the few exceptions you have made?”

“Well, I don’t make exceptions often, so…” You grin slyly. He looks away just as you catch a flash of his smile growing. It’s a nice smile. You wish you saw it more often before the end of the road. Maybe it’s one of the regrets you have, too. “Yeah, maybe you should feel special.”

“Hm.”

“C’mon, Takemura. Humour the walking dead, yeah?” You stretch against the leather of his car seat with a pleased sound. “I’m spending what time I have left with who I want to. Can’t ask for much better than that.” A quiet hangs in the air as you melt against the black leather and you look at Takemura who’s staring at the wheel with an intensity you don’t often see. It makes your gut squirm.

“And I? I am one of those people?”

You lean on one hip and look at him, bending a knee and resting an ankle on your thigh. He looks at you with an uncertainty—an uncertainty you’re sure echoes in your eyes.

It was business, then it wasn’t. Maybe it never was.

“Yeah. You’re one of the few on the short list.”

“Exceptions again.”

You laugh. “Yeah. You’re an exception to most things, I think. Weird, that.”

“How so?”

“Ah, I don’t know. I’ve had family—still do, ones that matter, you know. Just… no one ever like you, Takemura. Drives me crazy.”

“The feeling is mutual. Your mocking brings you onto thin ice, V.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel. The engine’s off so it seems more fidgety than anything. Weird. You never noticed he fidgeted before. Maybe he’s nervous?

About what?

“I must ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“If you have a future, what do you see for yourself?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. You frown and pick at your flecking nail polish even more, looking at your hand and focusing more on that so you don’t have to answer your question. His eyes burn into you and you swallow, trying not to act like you haven’t thought, in regret, at night, about a hundred million fucking times the possibilities they could’ve had together.

You’re not about to say all that.

Instead: “Settling down with the family. Mama Welles, people at the Coyote.” You blatantly don’t look at him when you add, “Others. This has been enough action for a lifetime.” You rest your hands on your lap and chance a glimpse at him. He’s looking away from you, out the window on his side, and you shift in your seat. “How about you? You must’ve… had dreams. Before all this shit went down. You make it out of here and then what?”

When he looks at you, your heart nearly cracks at the sadness in his eyes. He smiles, but there is no strength, and his eyes are darker than the night surrounding them.

“I would go to the countryside, just as I’ve always wanted. Leave this, all of this, behind. Rural Japan is beautiful, so a small town would suffice where everyone knows everyone. We do favours for one another. It is community. Nothing like here.” His lips pull into a tiny frown. “When I was a younger man, I wanted a daughter,” is all he says. “I believe I could have been a great father, so perhaps… perhaps one day.”

“A daughter? Not a son?” you ask curiously, and he almost chuckles. You can’t help the faint smile on your face.

“If my daughter grew up anything like her mother,” he explains with a slight glance towards you, “I would have more hope than a son who was like me.”

You frown. “You’re not a bad man, Takemura. Any son like you—with your code of honour, your shitty selfie skills—no one’s gotta a chance.”

He merely scoffs in response. Again, with the you mocking him. It’s a wonder he lets you.

“But really, that sounds… nice. A daughter, a wife.” You drum your fingers against your knee and his eyes dart to yours, click like they were always destined to meet, and your lips part. Words stall on your tongue and you want to speak but in the dim lights, you are lost in the darkness of his eyes. Something comes, something goes, and you barely croak out, “Whoever marries you will have to deal with so much of your shit that the kids have to turn out alright. The complaining, for one. Picky eater for another.”

This time, he does chuckle and you swallow a breath at the sound. “Dealing with it comes with practice, V.”

“Is that so?”

“Shouldn’t you know?”

“I—“ For once, no funny retort, no witty quip shoots out of your mouth, and you realize that there is an implication—an intricate dance where they’re struggling not to step on each other’s toes and nearly failing at every turn, yet somehow, it works because they’re dancing, and it’s quiet, and it’s… it’s peaceful.

Shit, you’re getting a load of this. When’d you become a poet?

“I guess I should know,” you finally say. “Never understood why I got so giddy whenever I saw your texts, you know, seein’ your name flash on my phone.” You laugh bitterly. “Guess I know why, now.” He’s silent and you don’t look at him. You look at the dashboard where you’ve kicked your feet up a dozen times, the glove compartment that still has your sunglasses inside.

Shit.

“Thank you for everything. Shit’s a little… more bearable, I guess. When you’re around, that is.” The words come out stilted, awkward, but your heart is so heavy in your throat you feel like you’re going to choke. You look into your lap, your whole body incinerating under what you’re sure is the most judgemental glare of your life and you just hope to fucking God this man says something, does something.

Holy shit. You’re going to die of embarrassment. Didn’t even think that was possible.

Then, a loud sigh. A sigh you’ve heard often enough beside you right before a gunfight or when he has to eat the food you ordered for him or even the nights when they’re exhausted, bruised, and just plain tired right before going to sleep where they lay on the floor.

It’s exasperated, a how on earth did we get here, a very annoyed again, you’re so fucking stupid, and you’re still running through your list on what this particular sigh can mean before a hand gently takes hold of yours. Your eyes dart to his, blinking and he stares at you like you’ve just stabbed him. Your heart is fucking racing in your chest, pounding like thunder. His fingers fold over and you realize, as you interlace fingers, that his skin is burning at your touch.

Or maybe, it’s the other way around.

They sit there in silence, not looking at one another, looking out windows, parts of the car, everything but each other, and when he squeezes your hand, you close your eyes and swallow your heart.

It’s over.

“V,” he murmurs, voice so deathly quiet and raspy in your ears that your gut clenches. You turn to watch him. “Tell me that you will not stop fighting.” You swallow your breath as his eyes flicker from your own to your parted lips. He inhales quietly and you swear you can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his fingers in your grip. “That this is not all for nothing.”

“It isn’t.“

“Then I was right.” His eyes flutter back to your gaze and he tilts his head. Wisps of fine hair escaping his manbun brush over his nose and you reach up on your own accord, swiping it behind your ear. You lean over the console, your elbow digging into the leather and, tentatively, you trail your fingers down his jaw, hold his face in your hand. “I am… what is that phrase you use so often?”

“SNAFU?”

“No.”

“Assblasted.”

“No.”

“Royally fucked?”

“We need to expand your vocabulary.” You smile nefariously as his other hand reaches for your chin. He pinches it lightly, thumb stretching up to brush over your lips and your face freezes at his touch. “But yes. Royally fucked. I wasn’t wrong when I said I needed you.”

“I think that meant a whole something else back then,” you whisper rawly and he smiles sombrely. His thumb leaves your mouth to brush your cheek, his eyes fixing on you as if he’s trying to memorize aspects of your face: the arch of your nose, the bow of your smile, the way your brow wrinkles. “Meant more business-like.”

“I did. And now, I believe the terms have changed.” He arches an eyebrow. “Are we at a mutual understanding, V?”

“Yes.” And I hate that we are. Your hand along his jaw lifts to wrap around his wrist. “Consider that feeling mutual, yeah? It goes both ways.”

“I will.” Another small smile graces his lips. It makes him look younger every time and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand.

“Do you wanna grab something to eat before you drive me back home for some shuteye?”

“The choices here are atrocious, V.”

“Then, drinks,” you propose, letting go of his wrist. He lets go of your chin, and turning to face the front, you kick up your feet on his dash. He stares at you for a moment then sighs because there really isn’t anything he can do about it. Nor, do you think, he wants to. You squeeze his hand and send him a silly smile. “How about drinks? I wasn’t hungry anyway.”

“Are you paying?”

You eye him incredulously. “Who do you take me for? You?”

He snorts and the engine roars to life with a flick of his wrist. He grabs the wheel dominantly and you swallow at the way his fingers wrap around the handle. “The Afterlife, then?”

“Or, we could make it rustic.” You pull his hand into your lap playfully and run a thumb over his knuckles. His eyes flit over and you send him a smirk. “I know Mama Welles doesn’t like you, but the Coyote’s serving cheap. Happen to like me there.” He begins to pull out of their little overhang and he nudges their joined hands into your abdomen, silently telling you to buckle in. Rolling your eyes, you mumble out a ‘boomer’ underneath your breath before letting go of him and following orders.

He settles a hand on your thigh and squeezes. You hang an arm out the window.

The wind’s running through the car, he has the radio on low, and they’re easing through onto the highway.

Your chest is lighter than a feather, mind’s quieter than a ghost.

You’ve seen scarier deaths, dealt a lot more. You know that silence is a bigger killer than most bullets.

But here you are now…

“I’m changing this,” Takemura says. “This music is terrible.”

…Shit, maybe life isn’t so bad, ending the way it is.

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kimnjss · 4 years

Text

more than ready | myg

⤑ series: be my baby

⤑ pairing: rapper!yoongi x mom!reader

⤑ genre: smut!! nd fluff.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 5.6K

⤑ warnings: here we goo... cursing, dirty talk, neck kissing, hickeys, slight biting, oral sex (f. receiving), oh my god spitting, squirting, yoongi has an impreg kink, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cum inside, unintentional cock warming (he’s gotta get it in there), multiple orgasms.

⤑ A/N: so hi! this was only supposed to be just that first scene... but then i got sad that it was ending so i added more :( - so yeah ,. it took longer than i expected . but i hope you guys really like this!! i can’t believe it’s over omg :( i’m gonna miss them sm .

⤑ impreg dialogue credit goes to @taetaewonderland, go check out her work, she’s soo talented!

JUNE 5TH, 2020 | 16:09 – TWO WEEKS LATER.

It had been a long day, spent lifting boxes and reorganizing your things into Yoongi's house. Not sure who was more excited about the move, Hyunki or Yoongi but both of them couldn't stop going on about how much fun they'll have now that they'd be together all the time. You were happy too, of course, felt right to be redecorating the room that you'd now be sharing with Yoongi.

Yoongi. Your man, your boyfriend. Yours. It only made sense that way. Being with him, happy with him. The two of you were made for each other and now you could finally be together. As a family.

And you didn't want it any other way.

He's laid sprawled out on his bed, watching with hooded eyes and a large smile as you arrange your clothes in his closet. All while organizing the messy clutter that came with the way he tended to carelessly toss his clothes in once they were washed. Happiness settling in his chest, paired with the domestic feeling from watching you.

Not done up like how you usually liked to walk around. Fitting sweats hanging off your round hips, one of his plain shirts swallowing your figure. Hair effortlessly framing your bare face. He felt almost privileged to get to see you like this, knowing that not many people have.

“How many of these shirts do you need?” You're asking with a slight laugh, lifting the plain white FG shirt for him to see. The shirt identical to the one that you're wearing now and the other four you had just put away.

Yoongi only shrugs, lips twitching into a smile. “They're comfortable,”

A simple roll of your eyes is your answer, folding the garment before reaching for the black one. Tiny feet pad into the room, Hyunki silently climbing onto the bed with a pout on his face. Sitting up slightly, Yoongi prepares to ask what's the matter – but Hyunki is beating him to it.

“Daddy! The batteries keep falling out.”

Even if you hadn't been watching them, you could perfectly picture the large smile that took over Yoongi's features at hearing his son call out to him. The same smile that broke onto his face each time Hyunki was referring to him as 'Daddy' as if he was hearing it for the first time each time.

“Here, let Daddy take a look.” He speaks softly, pulling the toy from his son's hands. It's an easy fix, the back of the toy needing to be tightly secured. But Hyunki is looking at him as if he had just figured out world peace. Thanking him loudly before taking his toy back into his room.

The triumphant grin doesn't leave his lips, the entire time he's watching you walk around the room. “Did you see that?” He's asking you and you're only now realizing that he had been waiting for you to comment.

“See what?” Playing dumb while leaned over his body on the bed, attempting to fill the bedside table with your undergarments.

An arm swiftly wraps around your waist, tugging you down a bit so you're directly over him. “'Daddy, the batteries keep falling out',” He mimics his son's voice, smile shifting into a large one that shows off his gums. “I think I'm his hero,” He's concluding and you can't help the laugh that slips past your lips.

“You might be,”

His eyes shine at your agreement, head tilting to crash his lips onto yours. The kiss sweet, slow, all of his love and adoration being poured into every movement of his lips. He's holding you close, hands resting lightly on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin.

It's not until his lips are slipping from yours, finding your neck does the mood shift. Teeth and tongue marking up your skin, soft giggles falling from your lips, and filling your bedroom. He's pulling away only to tug down the collar of your shirt, revealing more of your neck to his greedy lips.

Fingers knitted in his hair, you're tugging at the strands slightly – eyes rolling at the soft scrape of teeth against your skin. His fingers have crept underneath the fabric of your shirt, sneaking their up toward the wire of your bra.

“Daddy! It happened again,” The screech breaks through the haze of desire that started to fog up the room. Yoongi's mouth pulling from your neck with a pop. Hyunki's call ringing from his room. “Daddy, come look!”

There's not even a moment of hesitance before Yoongi is pressing his lips to yours quickly before lifting his body and exiting the room. A huffed, “Daddy's coming, buddy.” Falling from his lips as he exits.

Had wanted to stay in there with you, continue to the obvious place his wandering kisses were going – but duty as a father calls. And he was more than ready to answer the call. The sound of them playing together fills your ears, a wide smile spreading across your lips as you stand from the bed.

Going back, you listen to them together – happiness filling your heart from the sound of their laughter. And you're sure nothing would ever sound as good as them.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi's voice rings from behind you. Stood in the kitchen, after putting away your clothes in his room. His arms snake around your waist, head finding your shoulder, watching as you slice out bite-size pieces.

His lips have started to suck soft kisses into the back of your neck, fingers toying with the band of your leggings. “Making a snack,” You answer, nonchalant. Trying to act like his simple touches weren't driving you insane.

“You're a snack,” He replies lamely, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. And you're convinced you're in love with this man because there's no other explanation for how a phrase like that could turn you on that much.

But of course, his ego didn't need to know that. “Aren't you supposed to be entertaining your son,” It's hard to mask the breathy tone of your voice, body reacting to the feeling of his lips on your skin, his hips pressed into the curve of your ass.

“Animal Planet came on. And after the third time he shushed me, he told me to come see what you were doing,” The snort of laughter that comes from your nose is automatic, amazed how alike the two of them were. Couldn't help but wonder if he noticed it too.

Although, his mind is somewhere else. Tongue now rolling hotly against the shell of your ear, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth while his fingers tease their way down past the elastic band. “Think I can eat my snack in the room?” Words murmured into your ear, sending a pang of arousal throughout our veins.

Your giggle is obnoxious, but you can't help it with how giddy this man makes you feel. Head tilting slightly so you could see him, catch glimpse of those lust-filled eyes. Not a lot of time granted to admire them before he's covering your lips with his in a hungry kiss. Twisting your body easily, so your back is now pressed against the counter.

“Yoongi,” He's meeting your panted moan with a grunted curse of his own. Cock stiffening in his pants just from the sound of you saying his name. He loved to hear you say his name.

There's no need for you to say much else, his hands grasped around your thighs to easily lift your body onto his. If this had been four years ago, he'd be fucking you on the counter without an ounce of hesitation. But he takes the moment to walk you toward your room, lips never detaching from your neck.

Hard cock grazing over your crotch with each step. Lowering both of your bodies onto the soft mattress, after gently kicking the door closed. With your legs wrapped around his waist, you can feel every ridge and curve of his dick through the thin fabric.

“Take those off,” He pants, leaning back just enough where he's able to remove his shirt from his torso.

Only allowed to a moment to admire the dips of his collarbones, the browned pink of his nipples, each indent that nicely outlined his abs, a trail of hair traveling from below his belly button and disappearing underneath the waistband of his boxers.

He's stealing the image from you, ducking down to tug at your joggers. Hastily, he's pulling them down your legs, cutely grumbling to himself about your endless staring. But, could he blame you? When he looked that good over you like that?

Hooded eyes follow his hands, grin growing as more and more of your smooth skin is revealed to him. You're sighing at the delicate way he lifts your foot, tugging the fabric from around your ankle, before placing a soft kiss to the bone. Tongue just barely grazing over your flesh, painting blotches of saliva all the way to your knee.

Squirming underneath him, needy to feel him where you wanted him most. Each swipe of his lips has a fresh gush of arousal heating up your core and he was ignoring the way your sweet scent tickled his nose.

Breathing picks up at the feeling of his mouth marking up your inner thigh, teeth determined to create a bruise and you're so concentrated on the movement of lips that you don't notice the hand that has crept its way between your legs. Not until the tips of his fingers are brushing against your covered clit and your body is jolting.

“So sensitive,” He murmurs and you can feel the stretch of his grin against your skin. Head lifting to watch your fingers move between your legs, loving the sound of the soft moans he's able to pull soft whimpers from the back of your throat. “So wet too, baby. Bet you taste so sweet.”

Even through your panties, a clear string of slick connects his fingers to your mound as he pulls his arm back. He watches with fascination, taking his time to break the connection before he's pushing his those same fingers into his mouth, wantonly sucking your juices from his fingers.

You'd guess he was just putting on a show for you, wanting to make you as delirious as possible while watching the way his tongue caresses his fingers. But you'd be wrong, especially with the way his cock twitches underneath his shorts. He was enjoying this just as much as you.

“I want to feel your tongue, Yoongi.” Knowing him well enough to know that he wasn't going to give in until you were asking for it, sometimes holding out until you were full-on begging for a bit of relief.

It's like a switch was flicked inside of him, the smirk that takes over his features as his hand drops. Wet fingers latch onto the thin string of your thong, pulling it down until he's able to discard the wet bundle elsewhere. He doesn't waste a moment with diving in.

The first initial swipe of his tongue has your hips lifting, a hummed moan leaving your lips, your fingers tangle into the roots of his hair. So long since you've felt his mouth on you, you're way more sensitive than usual. Yoongi isn't complaining about that in the slightest bit.

His tongue parts your folds, the sweet drops of your arousal quickly coating his tastebuds. Lips quickly wrapping around your clit as a moan slips past his lips from the taste of you, the sound sending a vibration throughout your core. “Shit, Yoongi.” Voice hushed, vaguely remembering to keep quiet.

Yoongi's eyes are darting up to catch the expression on your features, how fucked out you look already and he's just getting started. Just barely, you feel the curve of his smirk against you, the suction behind his lips getting harder. Hips push down against his mouth, offering more of your dripping cunt to his tongue.

“Fuck, I don't remember you being this sweet.” He groans into your heat, tongue traveling down to lick into your entrance. A large hand lifted to set on your mound, thumb finding your clit. “I love this pussy,”

Whether it's the desire that coats his voice or the words he's saying to you, your walls are clenching around nothing. Throbbing for release already, a drawn-out moan falling from your lips as his mouth latches back onto you. His tongue moves much quicker into you, breath trapped in your throat while your fingers tighten in his hair – keeping his face pinned between your legs.

He can't take his eyes off you. Your head lulled back, your hips desperately grind against his face. Chasing the orgasm that you know is close, speeding to the end that he's more than ready to bring you to. “I-it... feels so good,”

Yoongi's humming into you, arms looping underneath your thighs to pull your body closer to his face. Stilling them in their frantic rolls, he shifts into pressing wet kisses onto your clit. “You like that, baby?” Tongue flicking against your sensitive nub quickly. “Want me to make you cum?”

“Please, please! I need-” He's cutting your begging short, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking down harshly. With little to no warning, his fingers are slipping past your folds, curved so he's instantly meeting that rough patch of skin buried inside of you. Walls clench in response around his fingers, protesting as he draws his fingers back.

A gasped moan breaks through your lips as he's pushing back in, pressing deep inside of you before pulling back again. He's fingers are quickly falling into a steady pace, head lifting and his eyes lock with yours. “You gonna cum?” He only holds your gaze only for a moment before his attention is flickering back between your legs.

Watching in fascination as his fingers disappear inside of you. He's still waiting for your answer, eyebrow raising when it doesn't come. Breathless moans the only thing that falls from your lips. “Hm?” He prompts.

Pink tongue pokes out between his lips, coated with his spit. You watch as he lets it roll off the tip, landing directly on your clit and he's lifting his thumb to rub it in. “You close, baby?” A strangled cry emits from the back of your throat, nodding frantically as you begin to shake underneath him.

“Yes, yes! P-please make me cum,” Words fighting their way out of your mouth when you feel his fingers start to slow. He's grinning at the sound of you begging for him, lowering his body back between your legs. Fingers slowly sliding out of you to be replaced with his open mouth, wet digits easily finding your clit. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me,”

It's as if your body was waiting for his command, pulsating, and arching in pleasure. Hips pinned to the bed and you have to muffle your scream as your orgasm leaves your body in waves. Splashing his lips and your thighs, soaking the sheets underneath you. Your eyes squeezed shut, the wetness clumping your lashes.

Yoongi's groans are muffled by your pussy, lapping up your juices like a man starved. His eyes are on you the entire time, watching as you ride out your high until your body is falling limp on the mattress heavy breaths lifting your chest.

All at once, he's lifting his body to hover over you, nose nudging against yours slightly and on instinct, your mouth is falling open. There's a hint of a smirk on his lips before he's opening up his mouth, a mixture of his spit and your cum trickling down his wet muscle and landing onto yours.

You're swallowing it down with no hesitance, dark eyes never leaving you, and only growing darker when you're parting your lips to show him your empty mouth. His lips are attached to yours in an instant and you're welcoming his tongue and the warm wetness that comes with it. Swallowing that too.

“You're so fucking perfect,” He groans, fingers tracing over the softness of your stomach. “Take everything I give to you,” His eyes flicker down to watch the movement of his fingers and you follow his gaze. Not missing the painful-looking strain at the front of his shorts, one odd move and he'd be bursting through the fabric.

He's reaching lower, spreading your legs apart so he's able to fit his body in between them. Groaning at the unintentional friction over his cock. Slowly, his fingers walk their way back to your stomach, brushing over your skin delicately. “Should I put another baby in you?” His cock twitches against you at the mere mention of it, but he pays it no mind – keeping his glued to yours.

“Please,” Something changes in his eyes with your agreement, turning dark as your legs lift. Toes hooking into the waistband of his shorts, pushing them the best you can with your angle. “Want you to fill me up,” You whine and the growl that leaves his throat can only be described as primal.

His hands are quickly wrapping around your ankles, tugging your body into his before pushing his shorts down the rest of the way. Cock bouncing against your folds the moment his clothes are out of the way. “You want me to?” Lowering himself onto you again, his hips roll; coating his shaft with your arousal.

“Give you a little girl this time?” He's more turned on then you've ever seen him. And it only deepens as he continues speaking. Egging himself on. “Can't wait 'til you're all big and swollen with my baby. Want that?”

Head bobbing in a nod, a breathy 'yes' leaving your lips followed by a string of like sounding ones. A single hand wraps around his shaft, squeezing out a dribble of precum before he's lining himself up with your entrance. Teeth cutting into his lower lip, eyes fluttering as he slides into you inch by inch.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He huffs once he's bottomed out, your walls clenched tight around him. “Always so fucking tight,” Yoongi whimpers, like actually whines as he pulls his hips back. In one swift movement, he's pushing forward, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

Head bowed, he watches his cock drag in and out of you. Your moans filling the room as the strength of his thrusts grow. His hands set on your hips, fingers bruising into your skin as he fucks you into the mattress. He's groaning out your name, lips close to your ear, and you whimper when he's catching it between his teeth.

“Gonna get you nice and pregnant. Fuck my baby deep inside you,” Yoongi's gasping out against your skin as you clench around him. Cock twitching against your walls. He's close, already. And you have a feeling it has everything to do with the thought of filling you up.

His hand fingers are quick to find you clit, rubbing frantic circles against it as his grip tightens around your waist. “God, I can feel you trying to milk me... you gonna cum again?” Nodding, breathless moans fall from your lips. Hips lifting to meet each one of is powerful thrusts.

“Yoongi, fuck-” Words breaking on a sob, clit being pinched between his knuckles. Your lashes flutter, hips lifting off the mattress as your walls squeeze tight around him. He's urging you on, mumbling dirty things into your ear that only prolongs your orgasm.

And the moment your body stops shaking, Yoongi is fucking into you with a newfound strength. Face buried in the crook of your neck. The power of his thrusts makes your tits bounce, pebbled nipples brushing against the fabric of your t-shirt.

He's delirious, it seems. Incoherent mumbles about how pretty you'll look with his baby. How he's ready to fuck you over and over again until you're full of him. And you moan in response, wanting everything he's offering. Yoongi's teeth sink into the curve of your shoulder, hips stiffening before he's spilling his speed into your womb. Strong hands keeping your body in place and whines fall from your lips at the feeling of his warmth coating your walls.

The tiniest of orgasms wash through your body, walls clenching around him, attempting to milk him of every last drop. And he doesn't move until he's empty, pulling out slowly despite the protest your pussy puts up. His cum dribbles out of you, toes curling at the familiar feeling.

Yoongi's quick to push it back in, using the tip of his cock as a shovel. Dazed eyes glued to your core and you're sure he's barely thinking when he's sliding back inside of you. Arms wrapped around your shoulder as his face nuzzles the crook of your neck. “Gotta get you nice and pregnant,” He's mumbling before his body falls slack.

It doesn't take you long to realize that he's fallen asleep, the intensity of his orgasm getting to him. A giggle falling from your lips, fingers running through his slightly sweaty hair. “Really hope you do,” Voice barely above a whisper, you press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Holding him as he falls deeper into dreamland, his soft breath tickling the side of your neck. And you let your mind wander, thinking about how different things are now... how they're the same. How they'll change three years from now.

More than ready to grow your family with him.

JUNE 8TH, 2020 | 11:27

“I just can't have anyone working for me that my girl doesn't trust. That I don't trust.” Yoongi sits at his studio desk, a nervous looking Jiso stood in front of him. Sort of knew what the ordeal was when he was calling her into his studio in the serious tone he almost never uses.

Of course, you weren't keeping it to yourself just how you were finding out about Yoongi's addiction. And while it worked out in the end, having someone who was so willing to share his business on his team... just couldn't happen.

Despite the apologies, her promises to never do something like that again – he couldn't budge. Not someone that could be trusted, not to mention the sly attitude she had toward you. No way would he keep someone like that around, working so close underneath him.

“Mr. Agust, it was just a mistake. Do you really think I'd intentionally wrong you?” Long eyelashes batted at him, pouted lips pouted in his direction. He uses to consider her pout cute, especially when she first started out and was constantly making tiny mistakes.

Never something he acted on. Jiso was his assistant and that was it. But the guy wasn't blind. A good looking girl and that had a lot to do with why he kept her around, ignoring his bosses when they told him to hire someone better. All she did was make mistakes.

“I know you weren't trying to hurt me. You were trying to hurt my girl and that doesn't sit well with me.” It's automatic, how her eyes roll at the mention of you. A soft scoff falling from her lips.

But the hard stare that Yoongi gives her, daring her to say one thing wrong about you keeps her mouth shut. Realizing that her cute pout won't get her anywhere in this situation, Jiso allows her shoulders to slump. “Okay,” She sighs, “Thank you for the opportunity.” He almost feels bad for the girl, because it's his fault.

Entertained her crush for a bit too long. Never made advances, but he never corrected her flirting. Acted as if it was okay, never set her straight. And now here they were. Jiso turns with a sigh, heavy steps taken out of the studio and into the hallway.

Not paying attention she almost tumbles over Hyunki, who's running full speed down the hall. You're a few steps behind him. He stops short before his face is smacking against her knee, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Sorry, Miss Jiso!” She's quick to tell him it's alright, gaze lifting to find you had caught up to them.

Her stare turns cold. “Hope you're happy, I just got fired.” Arms crossed over her chest, the weight shifting onto one leg, popping her hip out. Was she serious? You don't even bother to mask the laugh that falls from your lips at her ridiculousness.

“You're a shit employee,” Gentle fingers run through Hyunki's soft hair. “Baby. Go tell your father it's time to go,” With a quick nod, Hyunki is back to running at full speed. On his tiptoes he taps in the code he's seen you both punch in a ton of times. The door clicks open and he's rushing in.

Jiso only offers an annoyed scoff, before she's brushing past you. Heels clicking as she leaves the corridor, mumbling angrily to herself.

“Daddy! It's time to go!” In the middle of rerecording the spoken bit of his song, Hyunki's voice overlaps. He's stopping the track, just as he steps further into the room. Hitting play, the sound of his son calling for him echos throughout the room.

Hyunki gasps. “That's me!” A hand clamped over his mouth as his eyes go wide. Yoongi lets out a laugh, turning in his chair so he can fully face him. “I think we should keep it, what do you think buddy?”

Something of an intro as the beat starts. “Yup!” Not needing any details before he's agreeing. Small hands tug on Yoongi's large one, attempting to pull him from his seat. “Mommy said she was very hungry.” He allows himself to be pulled to his feet, arms reaching down to lift Hyunki onto his side.

“Ooh, we better hurry. Mommy's grumpy when she's hungry.” Hyunki's head is nodding quickly, eyes widening slightly as he tilts his head to look at his dad. “And she talks too much too,” Despite the laugh that breaks through Yoongi's lips, he's quick to remind Hyunki not to talk about his mom like that.

A tiny huff leaves his lips, hand lifting to rest on his cheek. “You said first,” He says, but mostly lets it go. No doubt saving it to get him in trouble later on. Sometimes it shocked him how alike they were.

JUNE 13TH, 2020 | 20:39

Yoongi enters the room, damp shirt sticking to his stomach. A bright smile brightening his features, his eyes landing on your body curled up under his sheets. His heart pounds, the way it always does when he sees you. Basically skipping over to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Nearly stuttering when he sees the smile that pushes onto your lips.

“See? Bedtime is not that hard.”

Pretty eyes roll at his words, fingers dropping to graze over the wet fabric of his shirt. Peaking down to admire the bit of skin you can see through the material. “Yeah? Your shirt's all wet. He splashed you, didn't he?” Eyes finding his, soft strands of hair bouncing as he shakes his head slightly.

Yoongi steps back, putting a bit of distance between the two of you so he's able to pull his wet shirt from his body. You watch him shamelessly, in silent awe as he carelessly reveals more of his skin to you. Acting as if you hadn't seen him like this a million times before.

“I don't know who he thinks he is,” He strips down until he's in his boxers, ruffling his hands through his hair before sliding into bed beside you. Body turning at once, he doesn't hesitate to tuck you underneath his arm.

Lips finding the soft skin just below his jaw as you settle into his side. “He's literally you,” Your laugh vibrates against his neck and now it's his turn to roll his eyes. Mockingly, he repeats your words. Playfulness coating his tone

His head shifts, body twists until he's able to crash his lips down onto yours. A satisfied hum leaving his lips as his mouth moves over yours. Slowly, lovingly. Taking his time with the way he kissed you as if you had all the time in the world. Because you had all the time in the world.

Gentle teeth tug at your lower lip, easily pulling your lips apart enough so his tongue can slide past them. And you accept him without a moment of hesitance, fingers curling into his hair as your wet muscles roll and push against each other. He's holding you close to him, hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt. Pleased to find the only thing keeping him from the warmth of your skin is the lace of your panties.

Seemed to be your uniform in his bed. His shirt, preferably one that smelled most like him, and a pair of panties. It was his favorite thing to see you in. Right next to nothing at all. Slowly, Yoongi's letting his lips part from yours. Kissing away the clear line of saliva that keeps your lips connected.

“Can we have another one?” His fingers toy with the lace of your panties, no doubt poking holes into the already holey material. Still on your birth control the night he had been so determined to put a baby in you, so deep in the moment that it had slipped your mind.

But the next day you were making the appointment to get it removed and now you were physically ready to grow your family. As well as mentally. “Yes,” His grin groans, nose nudging your head to the side so he's able to press his lips to your neck.

“Right now?” His words are muffled by your skin, flesh sucked between his teeth. His hands are sliding underneath your panties, gripping the flesh of your ass in his palms. Kneading and molding the flesh as if he could shape it.

You're laughing loudly at the giddiness hidden with his tone, hands reaching back to bat his hands away from your butt. “No, not right now.” You're turning in his arms easily, back pressed into his chest. He doesn't lift his hands from your body, instead allows his fingers to dance over your soft belly.

The tips of his fingers brushing against the slightly raised scar on your lower belly. Face nuzzled in the crook of your neck as his index finger runs over the long line leading from one hip to the other. His fingers repeat the motion, gentle kisses planted on your neck.

You don't notice the way your body has gone tense against him. Not use to the feeling of someone touching your scar. Always politely ignored. Yoongi's picking up on your rigidness instantly, fingers stilling.

“It hurts?”

Hand coming down to meet his, your fingers intertwine with his. Urging yourself to relax. Just Yoongi. There was nothing to worry about. He had already proved to you time and time again that things like this didn't mean anything to him.

“No, just... no one has touched it before. Feels weird,” He's nodding in understanding, lips planting one last gentle kiss to your neck before he's lifting his head to set his chin on your shoulder. “I like it,” Yoongi is deciding after a momentary silence.

The feeling that washes over you can only be described as happiness. “Really?”

“Of course. It's what got our son here. I think it's pretty... I think you're pretty.” Body leaning back into him, your head finds his shoulder. His fingers continue to rub against the scar, feather-like kisses placed over the side of your face; slowly making their descent lower on your body.

Along with his hands.

“Your hands seem to be going a bit low there, Mister.”

The laugh that leaves his lips shakes your back and warms your heart. Subconsciously spreading your legs for him, hips pushing back into his. “Are they? I didn't notice...” The tips of his fingers dip underneath the band of your panties, crawling their way further between your legs.

You open up your mouth to speak, words caught in your throat as the sound of your bedroom door slamming open fills the room. “I'll sleep here!” Hyunki shouts, and Yoongi is quick to pull his hands away from him.

He runs at full speed into the room, slowing only to climb onto the bed. He stands on the edge for a moment, a mischievous look in his eyes as he grins. Two bends of his legs and he's SuperMan jumping directly onto Yoongi's chest. “I'll sleep here!” He screams through a laugh as Yoongi's arms wrap around him.

You're turning onto your side so you can face them, smiling at the way he's spread himself on his dad's stomach, using him as his own makeshift mattress. Elbow propped up on the bed, you rest your cheek on your palm. “Do you not like your big boy bed?”

“Sometimes no.” Hyunki shrugs. His arm wrapped around Yoongi's torso, cheek smushed against his chest. “Daddy makes me sleep,” And if the sleepiness in his tone wasn't proof enough, you had no idea what would be.

Yoongi is grinning proudly at his words, arm reaching out for you. He's easily tucking you into his side. “Let Daddy make you sleep too.” The happiness in his words has your heartwarming, an arm wrapping around both of them you settle into his side.

You're falling asleep instantly in his arms. Feeling as happy as he sounds. Positive that you've never felt this content. This at peace with anyone. Yoongi. Hyunki. Your family. You loved them. Not realizing you had spoken out loud until Yoongi's smiling lips are finding your forehead.

“I love you too.”

— when the love of his life suddenly vanishes, he drives himself mad looking for her. seemingly erased from the world, he’s forced to pick up the pieces of his life and move on… fast forward three years and someone who looks a lot like the woman he lost is being spotted, holding a kid with an oddly familiar gummy smile…

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. to be added to the taglist, send me an ask !! feedback is highly !! appreciated, it’s the motivation i need to keep the fic going nd fun for you guys!!<33

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lipstickstainz · 3 years

Text

true lies - s. r. (7/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Chapter Summary: Girls night - and Spencer and you accidentally meet each other the day after.

Warnings: a little bit of angst, and fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I'm sorry it took me song long, but I was really busy. I hope you like it! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous part

"Will you please pass me the can of glitter?", Penelope asks. Everyone gives her confused looks, except you. Your gaze is fixed on the pictures in front of you.

"What do you need glitter for?", JJ asks, taking a sip of her wine.

"This is supposed to be a vision board", she grins, grabbing the reddish can Emily holds out to her. She twists off the cap and sprinkles a little glitter on her hand before letting it trickle onto the glue-covered cardboard. "In my vision, my future is full of glitter. With the cruel things we have to see every day, everything should be full of glitter."

Emily has to grin, but raises her wine glass. The others do the same. "Here's to a future full of glitter." As the others toast and glasses clink together, you silently slide the pictures back and forth on your drab piece of cardboard.

It's been Penelope's idea for you girls to get together on a Saturday night to create vision boards together. It's been a week since Spencer and you spoke, and Penelope couldn't take your suffering anymore. She had tried so many times to cheer you up, but nothing had worked. Your heart was broken, your world was shattered, but Penelope can't take it. Ridiculous.

At first you were against it. In the last days you were just vegging out, your emotions as if erased, repressed and burned out. If you allowed your true feelings, you would break. You got up, went to work and went to bed at night. You weren't capable of doing more than that, because even every breath was far too exhausting.

And then, all of a sudden, the girls had shown up at your door. Their bags were filled with craft supplies, sleeping stuff, and alcohol. Penelope, not knowing what had even happened, had rounded everyone up and decided you needed cheering up. You wanted to slam the door in her face, but there was so much pain in her gaze and only then did you realize that you weren't the only one to suffer. Your friends were suffering with you and their visit was a kind attempt to get you back on track. And it started with them forcing you to shower and put on a sweater that didn't have a coffee stain on it.

"Y/N?", Tara addresses you and it takes a moment for your eyes to focus back on the piece of cardboard in front of you and you realize that you haven't put a single picture, saying, anything on it yet, while everyone else's hands are covered in glue. In your friends' faces you see confusion and pity. You look away. "You haven't picked out anything for your vision board yet."

Because I don't know what my future will look like without Spencer by my side, you reply in your mind. You don't want to pretend you can imagine a future without him when he's been a big part of it for years. And most of all, you don't want to admit it.

"What do you think of this one?", JJ asks, pushing toward you the snippet she's cut out of one of the countless magazines Penelope has brought. The words are written in thick letters. "Trust the timing of your life." Funny.

"Do you want to tell us what happened?", Penelope asks quietly, sipping her cocktail. There's already red glitter on the glass. "We can see how bad you are."

She only means well and she's also a good friend and actually you want to tell, but then it would come true. As long as you keep your conversation to yourself, you can pretend it didn't happen. You could go on as before and hope that everything will work out. But it wouldn't be the truth.

The truth is that Spencer and you would never get back together.

As you begin to tell it, all the dams break. Tears are streaming down your cheeks and you have to gasp in between as the words get stuck in your throat. No one interrupts you, they just stare at you, amazed that you are actually talking. And you don't leave out a single detail. You tell them that you were standing outside his room at night and he slammed the door in your face.That he wanted you off the team and insulted the crap out of you at Rossi's party, only to cuddle with you on JJ's couch afterwards and then call it a mistake. You tell them about the angry kiss, about your fights and reconciliations, and finally you tell them about your last night together and your conversation.

When you're done, you reach for your glass, which you haven't touched yet, and drink the wine down to the last drop.Only when the glass is empty and you put it down do you look at the others again. Uncertainly, you look around and recognize an infinite number of questions in their faces, which they don't ask - to be honest, you wouldn't have the answers either - and mixed feelings, which you can't interpret despite your good profiling skills. But there's one thing you can recognize in every look you meet: pain. And even though they look at you with a lot of pity, you don't regret telling them about it.

If you break from it, you know the girls will put you back together.

"That's ... a lot”, Tara says first, taking a sip of her cocktail. You nod mutely.

"We always hoped you'd find each other after all”, Penelope confesses, twisting the glitter jar shut.Apparently, she's lost the desire to put more on her cardboard.

"Even though you left Spencer, we always thought it was for a reason other than you didn't love him anymore. You were the perfect couple and we just couldn't imagine it." Up until this point, JJ had been suspiciously quiet. She looks up from her cardboard. "And now you're back, and the way you're suffering right now, we can imagine it even less. So why would you say that to him? If it's not true after all?"

"That's enough, guys. We should change the subject”, Emily interjects pouring wine into your empty glass. You're infinitely grateful to her. Talking has drained you, and just thinking about Spencer hurts. Talking about it doesn't exactly make it easier to deal with it all, but the weight on your shoulders doesn't feel quite so crushing anymore.

"You still love him, don't you?" Penelope sounds hopeful. And you don't want to take away her hope, and especially you don't want to lie to your friends, but it has to be done. You promised, even swore, that the deal would stay secret, and it was already too dangerous to have told Emily then. You wouldn't risk your friends' lives.

"No, Penelope." The glimmer of hope in her eyes goes out. It's a feeling you know all too well.

"I don't want to get too close to you, Y/N”, Tara begins. "But then why do you feel so bad? If you didn't love him anymore, then you wouldn't be so heartbroken, would you?"

And you don't have an answer to that anymore.

The topic is over and will not be brought up again. At the end of the evening, your cardboard is still empty, but you feel a little better and you mentally make a note to yourself that you owe them. When the girls say goodbye the next morning after breakfast - Penelope hugs you a little longer than the others - you head out as well. Thanks to your friends, you've realized that there's nothing you can do about the situation, that you're going to have to deal with it - and definitely not alone - and that sitting lonely in your apartment waiting for a miracle to happen is not an option.

The warm sun on your skin feels good, like a hug, and you reach out to it as you walk to your favorite bookstore. There are many people out and about, walking or shopping. Countless people are sitting in the small cafes, eating and drinking and talking. You've only been back in D.C. for a few weeks and it feels like you've never been away.

Over the past year, you've been on the road a lot, not only in the States but also in Europe. In addition to work that has sent you nearly halfway around the world, you've sat in the Hamburg State Opera, eaten in the cute cafes in Bucharest, and admired the medieval old town in Lund, Sweden. You've seen and experienced so much, met new people, but nothing resembles home. And not being able to be here for a year had been incredibly difficult.

As you enter your favorite bookstore, the smell of old books rises to your nose and goosebumps spread across your warmed skin. How much you missed it. You may have been to other bookstores, but you know this one like the back of your hand. How you've missed this. You walk down the aisles, running your fingers over the various spines before stopping at a book. The cover is a faded red and somewhat damaged, with white writing that makes you want to pull it off the shelf and open it.

You are so engrossed that you don't notice how someone comes up to you and stops next to you.

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair," the person begins to quote and you wince, but don't turn around. "Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt fort he liquid measure of your steps."

You have to swallow, put a finger between the pages to find the poem again before closing the book and turning around. "Hi."

Spencer smiles at you. "I didn't think I'd run into you here."

You pucker your lips into a thin line. "Yeah, um, I haven't been here since I got back. Wanted to see if it's changed."

Oddly enough, it doesn't feel strange to be standing in this bookstore with him, considering you'd been here almost every day before and this moment is the first time you've seen each other outside of work since you had your clarifying conversation. Nervous, though, you are. You suppress the urge to tap from one foot to the other.

"So, has it changed?" Spencer tilts his head, but doesn't avert his gaze from you.

You shake your head. "Not really. But I guess the salesgirl who had the hots for you back then doesn't work here anymore." You try to lighten the slightly tense mood with the joke, and it seems to work. Spencer laughs out loud.

"I still don't think she had a crush on me." His smile widens, and it's so infectious that you have to smile, too.

"One hundred percent”, you return, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. "It was pretty funny watching her flirt with you all the time, but you didn't go for it."

The bookstore is completely empty except for you and the clerk at the entrance. Silence surrounds you, but it is not uncomfortable despite the circumstances and the new situation. You just stand there smiling at each other until Spencer takes the book from your hand.

"Neruda writes beautifully." He flips through the book once before handing it back to you. As your fingers graze, a flash goes through you, but you try not to let it show. "Very nice poems."

You nod. "I know. Only know him through you”, you answer truthfully.

Spencer has to grin. "True." He runs a hand through his tousled hair. "He's in that book I gave you once."

"Right." You don't want your conversation to end, and you don't want to leave, but it would be best for both of you. You're not ready to be friends yet, and while your meeting doesn't feel awkward, you're not sure how to handle it. You tap the book and look at him.

"I'll go pay for that." You walk past him, but turn back to him. "It's good to see you, Reid." You use his last name on purpose, knowing full well that his first name is reserved for friends. And in your opinion, you're not ready yet.

"It's good to see you, too."

You nod to him again before leaving without turning around again. You feel his gaze on you anyway.

When you get to work the next day, there's a gift on your desk. It's wrapped in brown wrapping paper and a cord is tied around it and tied into a bow. Simple and beautiful. You set your bag down, confused, before sitting down and inspecting it.

"Who's this from?", Luke asks, walking past you to his desk. You shrug ignorantly.

"I don't know."

The gift is slightly larger than your hand, but not particularly heavy. After opening it and putting the paper in the trash can under the desk, you take a closer look at the book. It's black, and the cover features a plain white flower, with the word "poetry" engraved underneath. As you open the first section, you come across something written. You recognize Spencer's handwriting.

"And then the day came, when the risk to remain tight in a bud, was more painful than the risk it took to blossom - Anais Nin."

Your heart skips a beat and you block out the feeling spreading through you. You flip through the book and realize it is completely blank except for this poem. The pages are lined and practically screaming to be filled.

"Do you like it?", Spencer asks, sitting down across from you at his own desk. He sets his fresh cup of coffee down in front of him and you give him a friendly smile.

"It's wonderful." You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. "Thank you."

"I found it in the bookstore after you left. And I know you like to read poetry, and I thought you could write down your favorite poems in it." He takes a sip of his coffee.

"That's very sweet of you. Really, thank you, Reid."

"Spencer." A thin smile spreads across his face and you warm. "My friends call me Spencer."

next part

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caffeineforbucky · 3 years

Text

As Time Goes By...(Chapter three)

A/N: This one took a while to write. I've just been so busy doing absolutely nothing all while procrastinating, so special thanks to that. No, but I really hope you like this, fellow reader. If you like the series, let me know if you want to be tagged!

(Side note: I've been playing RE8, thirsting over lady D, and dying over and over...it's going great! It's part of the procrastination...)

Also, has anyone seen the Bridgerton musical tiktoks? I swear I've had the 'burn for you' song in my head all last month and if you've been living under a rock...here's the link:

https://youtu.be/EwY9_m5qeow

Word Count: 2,299

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I don't know....angst? As always, John Walker!?! AKA; Fake Cap. Umm...If I missed any let me know.

(A little PSA: I don't hate John Walker: or the actor. John is a well-written character. This is just strictly for the purpose of where my story is going. I'm more reiterating how Bucky treats him in the show. Thank you!!)

You groan, rolling from your left side to lay flatly on your back, arms spread out beside you. You inhale deeply, becoming aware of the moistened dirt and crushed wildflowers beneath you as they release their aromatics. Birds chirped around you, the busy sounds of traffic fading away while you lie still in the field, oxygen feeling heavy in your lungs.

"Y/N?!"

You barely heard the worrisome calls of Sam over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You lift your head, the view of icy mountains in the distance, blurry figures making their way towards you while you somehow managed to sit up. Your head was spinning, a sharp ache on the side of your thigh.

Your eyes flickered down, taking note of the small paring knife lodged in your thigh. You exhaled softly, nodding your head at the sight of it. "Okay," You grumble in agreement. With shaking hands, you wrap your fingers around the handle, bracing yourself by taking intervolved breaths before carefully pulling it from your thigh.

You worked fast, ignoring the crunch of rocks and dirt under the acknowledgeable footsteps of Sam and Bucky. Taking babochka, you cut off the end of your pant leg, wrapping the spandex around your wounded thigh before securing it with one of the holsters, tying the ends into a knot. You remain quiet, carefully pushing yourself up to your feet, transferring all of the weight to the opposite leg, eyes drifting up to meet the guys. "Are you guys okay?" You murmur, dusting off the clumps of dirt and dead leaves from your jacket.

"Are you?!" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "You're bleeding!" He points out, gesturing to the bright red staining the skin of your calf as it dripped down to your boot. The wrap might've held the wound shut, but that didn't mean blood wouldn't have soaked through.

"Oh, this?" You ask, glancing down at your leg, the wound throbbing in agony, but you did your best to avoid it. "I've had worse." That was true, from all those years fighting as an avenger. Getting shot, kicked, stabbed, beaten until you were purple, and undergoing mind control. This tiny stab was the least of your worries. It still hurt like hell, and you couldn't hide the discomfort in your features.

"Do you want a piggyback?" Bucky asks suddenly, slightly annoyed at your nonchalance and still concerned nonetheless. You weren't expecting it, the odd but kind offer, especially from the menace himself. Though you weren't one to pass up being carried. With a hesitant nod, you agree, watching Bucky crouch just a bit, allowing you to climb on his back.

The position was awkward for both of you. With his hands tightening on the back of your knees and your arms wrapped around his neck, neither of you could think straight. Yet, you were still thankful. The road to the airport was a long one, and you weren't sure if you could make it in your state. Bucky held you as if you weighed nothing, his super-soldier strength showing off while he carried you on his back, footsteps matching up with Sam. He didn't mind doing it, especially since he was the one who offered, and the proximity was just a bonus.

"Sorry about Redwing," Bucky muses, breaking the silence while the three of you sauntered down the empty road. There was nothing for miles, only empty plains of grass and dirt. Young trees scattered, lacking the greenery around them, evident of the cold weather in Munich.

"No, you're not," Sam remarks, narrowing his eyes to a pinprick at the winter soldier. "You've always hated Redwing."

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry about it," Bucky grumbles, tightening his hold on you as he felt you slipping. You gasp at the sudden strength, clinging better to his shoulders as well. "How're you doin' up there?" He asks, jaw clenching from your touch.

"All things considering," You sigh, pushing aside the butterflies in your tummy at how close you were to Bucky. "I've been better. We've gotta find out where that super serum is coming from."

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, glancing at you. "-And how the hell after 80 years are there eight super-soldiers runnin' loose?"

Loud honks of a horn ring in your ears, tires treading on the gravel as an army jeep slows down beside the three of you. "So, that didn't go as planned, huh?" John chuckles, pushing the door open only for you to keep walking, paying no mind to the man in stars and stripes.

"Okay, keep going," John utters, signaling the driver to keep up as he pulls the door shut. "Look, at least we know what we're up against, huh? And I'm pretty sure it's one of the big three...so,"

"Aliens, androids, or wizards," Lemar comments as John nods his head in agreement.

"There's no such thing as wizards!" Bucky grunts, keeping his eyes forward, hands on the back of your knees.

"Fine, aliens or androids," John settles, sharing a look with his best friend beside him. "Look, it's 20 miles to the airport, and you guys need a ride. Gary, stop," He instructs, the wheels slowing down. John opens the door once again. "Get in," He sighs, motioning all of you inside the jeep as Bucky and Sam's footsteps came to a halt.

Bucky gently sets you down, taking note of the small whimpers falling from your lips. No matter how tough you appeared to be, you still carried so much vulnerability. "You okay?" He asks, eyes filled with so much concern it almost scared you. He hadn't looked at you like that in a while. "Do you want any help?"

With a soft nod, you oblige to Bucky's ask, needing more help than you anticipated. You didn't want to add any strain or force to your injury. You didn't even realize it happened, and that part of it was Sam's fault for swooping to grab you while you had a knife in hand, but you weren't going to start pointing fingers. You wrap your arm around Bucky's shoulder, using him as support while he boosts you up on the jeep after Sam climbs up first, helping you settle beside him.

"Woah!" John exclaims, almost rising to his feet at the sight of your thigh, your hands stained with blood. "Are you okay?"

With a curt nod, you adjust yourself to relieve some of the pressure while Bucky takes a seat on your left, leaving you to be right smack dab in the middle as he pulls the door shut. You blow out a breath, knowing damn well if it hadn't been for the mishap, you would've walked the damn 20 miles.

"Lemar, hand me the first aid kit," John instructs, pointing to the steel case beside his friend. You wanted to protest, but even you knew that the strap wasn't going to work. Mouthing a thank you, you take the case from Lemar's hand and clip it open.

"Okay, so we got eight super-soldiers on a bulk supply run," John continues, the jeep beginning to roll down the road. You hand the case to Sam, asking him to hold it while you searched for gauze, medical tape, and butterfly bandages, you were probably going to need stitches, but you'd worry about that later. "Why?" John asks, watching closely as you patched up your wound.

"They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip," Sam answers, handing you another strip of tape. "Maybe they're just tryna help."

"They had a funny way of showing it," Bucky adds, his eyes trained on you, a hiss slipping through your lips as you roll down the remaining spandex. You sigh in relief, the ache becoming dull as you shut the case, giving it back to Lemar.

"Better?" John asks, earning a single nod as a response. "I don't think we've properly met. John Walker," he smiles, offering a shake of his hand, but you didn't move, only staring at the outstretched palm in front of you. "Does she talk?" John mumbles suddenly, looking to Sam or Bucky for a reply.

Your eyes cast down, gaze hardening at the sight of the shield in his grasp. Flashes of Steve running through your mind, the many times he'd catch you trying to throw it like he would. Steve Rogers meant a lot to you, having joined him in not signing the Sokovian accords, being an outlaw, and helping to clear Bucky's name with Sam. So, seeing a man who wasn't Steve hold the shield awoke something in you. Something unkind and hateful.

"When she wants to," You claim, John squirms in his seat, sensing the tension as your eyes flicker to his. "And frankly has no desire to speak to you."

"You don't even know me," John defends, glancing at Bucky, a sly smirk on his lips, and Sam, who rendered quiet, his eyes looking elsewhere. John sets his attention back on you, lips razor thin.

You scoff, shaking your head softly as you fold your arms over your chest. "Jonathon F. Walker," You begin, leaning back in your seat, your eyes never leaving his. "Former Captain of the U.S Army's 75th Rangers Regiment. Graduated at the top of your class from the United States Military and the first person in American history to receive three medals of honor, ran RS-one missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue."

John's tongue darts between his lips, a frown spreading throughout his forehead at the information you were giving him. Either you did research on him or, you just read his file, which you had done both. You were not one to go into a mission without potentially knowing who you were up against. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"So you saw the news?" John chuckles, the frown falling from his features while he shrugs. "Big deal, so did the entire world."

"Custer's Grove High school alumni."

John's smile falters.

"There you met, Lemar Hoskins and your current wife," You tilt your head in curiosity. "Olivia, right? Or am I getting it wrong?"

Clearing his throat softly, John broke eye contact with you. So you did know him, and you probably knew more than you led on. "Do they always just stare like that?" He gestures between you and Bucky, who had displayed the same distaste for him.

Sam glances beside him, observing the matched body language you shared with Bucky, its no wonder Bucky had taken a liking to you, even if he'd never admit it. "You get used to it," Sam smirks, turning his head back to Walker.

"Okay..." John drags, eyes flickering to the more sensible one of the trio, and that was Sam. "Look, that serum doesn't have the greatest track record, no offense," He waves his hand, dismissing the insult directed towards the only super-soldier in the car.

"We need to figure out where they're going. How'd you track 'em here?" Sam asks, "The flag smashers."

"Uh," Lemar murmurs, scratching the back of his head. "We didn't track them. We tracked you through Redwing."

"You hacked my tech!?" Sam gripes, straightening out his back as he sat up.

"Sorry," John laughs, "It's not exactly hacking. It's government property...kind of the government. Alright, you know things have gotten kind of..."

"Chaotic," Lemar adds.

"Yeah," John nods in agreement. "The GRC, they're doing their best to get things up and running smoothly post blip. If you guys teamed up with us-"

"No." Bucky interrupts. He couldn't let Walker finish that sentence.

"I've got mad respect for all of you," Lemar praises, looking between the trio before him. "But you were getting your asses kicked 'til we showed up."

"And who are you?" Bucky bemuses, cocking a brow at the man next to John.

"Lemar Hoskins," You mention, "I could've sworn we've been through this." You shake your head at the old man, for being 106, he couldn't hear a thing.

"I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear," Sam shrugs, "I'm gonna need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins."

"I'm Battlestar, John's partner."

"Battlestar?" Bucky repeats, narrowing his eyes at Lemar as he nods, confirming his alias. "Stop the car!" Bucky shouts suddenly, brakes screeching as the wheels come to a stop in the middle of the road. Bucky pulls open the handle, ducking, as to not rail his head on the bar-frame above him before hopping off the jeep.

"Look, I get it, okay?" John sighs, calling after Bucky. "I get the attitude, I do. You didn't think the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I'm not trying to be Steve!"

"Good," You interject, rendering John to settle his eyes on you. "Because you will never be. And just because you're the one wielding it..." You grab the bar above your head, using it to pull yourself up. "It doesn't make you Captain America." And with that, you carefully jump off the jeep, following after the heated super-soldier.

Sighing in frustration, he rips his eyes away from your retreating figures. "I'm not trying to replace him either. I'm just trying to be the best Captain America I can be." He explains to Sam, hoping the falcon would cut him some slack. "-And it'd be a whole lot easier if I had Cap's wingman on my side."

Sam's eyes widen in surprise, his tongue darting between his lips. "It's always that last line," He scoffs, shaking his head as he jumped off the car, following you and Bucky.

John's lips thin out, face scrunching in a scowl. "Let's go," He instructs. The sound of the jeep leaving making its way to your ears.

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