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#but he just makes things worse and awkward and he ends up feeling worse and just cries and beats himself up once more
arafilez · 3 days
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MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny. ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "
WHOEVER YOU ARE, THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS.
warning: idk some of you THAT well but i tried my best TT so bear with me. this is supposed to be a simple game but my perfectionist ass smh. ALSO i think four or five of my moots aren't here, i am sorry you guys, idek what to write abt y'all since we don't talk that much or you are a newww moot, let's talk more. really sorryyy.
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—ㅤ @haneagerr x HAN JISUNG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: best-friends to lovers .ᐟ
alexa is the type to sulk and be real quiet unless she meets someone who can bring out her craziness. so when jisung meets her on first day of high-school it's really quiet with muted replies from her. but then with gradual encounters extreme poking and loudness from hanji she releases her equally as loud self. and somewhere down that line, they realise they actually like each other a lot since they are so compatible and basically know each other's everything. and comfort? just each other.
—ㅤ @kyrjnie x KIM MINGYU .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: fake-dating .ᐟ
aquaintances in their workplace? or maybe a classmate/seatmate. the point is they don't know each other THAT well. but mingyu's adorable personality just makes her soft for the boy. plus he is helpful and brainy, so when val gets into a bad situation he decides to help her out, except they break every rule of fake-dating in the book ever. and they blame everything on the fake stuff LIKE THERE IS NO FAKE???? anyway they gradually understand (or their frnds make them do cus both of them are actually so cute and oblivious)
—ㅤ @hotteoki x JEONG YUNHO .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: grumpy x sunshine .ᐟ
no skits ain't grumpy, she has the best assortments of memes IK OKAY!! but this girl and her dm replies, god they are late! which shows her as grumpy. unless well yk someone climbs up her walls and claws down whatever is making her forget. so i think yunho would be the perfect person, always grinning with that ADORABLE SMILE and nagging her (in a good way). omg they are such adorable cuties in my head.
—ㅤ @fairyhaos x JOSHUA HONG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: strangers to best friends .ᐟ
yena is such a sweetheart and joshua is too, i feel like they would just meet by chance, for example they took the same bus or something like that. and these two would just strike up a random convo that would fit both of them so well. like yk when you meet a person and they click instantly? THAT!! so even if their routes change they will still hang out, do crazy stuff, be a partner in crime (not literally or maybe literally idk) they are just each other's safe place
—ㅤ @daesukiii x JUNG WOOYOUNG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: workplace romance .ᐟ
i am gonna have some fun now. so dae is so workplace romance coded and woo just fits every trope (let's be real now). imagine the scenario, wooyoung gets things wrong, he DOESN'T KNOW OKAY and god his loud whiny ass just makes it worse. so dae decides to help him till he gets the point (spoiler: he doesn't) but even when he does he purposely does shit wrong 'cause one- he is a menace, two- he can have dae close to him. and the rest is history (not really, woo messes up while he tries to ask her out making her help in that too lmao)
—ㅤ @weird-bookworm x CHWE HANSOL .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: matchmaker gone wrong .ᐟ
here's a simple advice, never let kwon soonyoung be a matchmaker. you know the twist? he match-made so many people he mixed them up and numbers got swapped. so now sky is staring at an american boy awkwardly smiling when she was supposed to meet someone named seokmin. they stare weirdly at each other before realising but they can't let a reservation go to waste so they do have the dinner. the whole thing is so awkward and quiet but it isn't uncomfy. hansol keeps telling weird stuff and sky just listens until they realise maybe this isn't SO bad (thank you hoshi). they do end up getting e/o numbers at the end and they do happen to meet up more often (they call it friend's meet but we all know so shut up)
—ㅤ @eightmakesonebraincell x PARK SEONGHWA .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: enemies to lovers .ᐟ
this will be fun. so loren is well, fun. a very different kind of fun. she is creative, spontaneous, has the most unhinged replies. so when she meets hwa who is quiet, maintains everything and reserved personality they DO NOT hit it off at all. and seonghwa just wants to avoid her at all means 'cause he does not want it wrecked all over. well too bad, because they have the same friend circle! it is always the push and pull, the tension and goodness the bickering over the smallest things. it is just seonghwa loosing his patience and loren having fun with it. until one day they realise that maybe they aren't intolerable (yk how the rest goes YES MAN I AM TALKING ABT THOSE SHY GAZES)
—ㅤ @potatomountain x KIM HONGJOONG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: neighbours .ᐟ
i am saying this in the nicest way possible!! this friend of mine needs care okay!! and who is better at it than kim hongjoong? well, everyone. the man hardly knows how to take care of himself, forget about doom. but, that is where the cuteness lies. they complete each other yk, someone forgets something, the other keeps track (unless they both forget and panic rush into stuff) plus staying next door has its perks, they can share stuff, they have stories (teas) about other neighbours to share. overall they have a wholesome, homely and almost domestic relationship until they realise it one day OH!
—ㅤ @quhrtz x KIM TAEHYUNG .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: childhood friends to ? .ᐟ
it is just the idea of her and tae being friends from childhood making me swoon so bad. like she has social anxiety so always having a person to lean on is just so comforting yk. and tae is perfect with that adorable boxy smile of his and he doesn't have to worry about her not opening up. because they just know each other so well. bonus, they know each other's everything too so every hurt comes with comfort and every laugh shared is meaningful. and slowly it might develop into something more.
—ㅤ latte x KIM GYUVIN .ᐟ — ㅤtrope: meet-awkward .ᐟ
ik you are lurking here anyways so i added you too. picture a quiet cafe, people having nice conversations or quietly working and amidst all of that latte is having an awkward staring contest with a stranger (who is beautiful). like they are just looking at each other and staring? if that makes sense. ricky and gunwook are trying to make sense of the situation but they can't so jiwoong sighs, takes matters in his own hands and pushes gyuvin towards her. cue another awkward standing and staring at each other till jiwoong coughs AGAIN and they finally talk (somewhat) ANYWAYS IT'S A WIN OKAY, THEY GOT THEIR NUMBERS OR SOCIAL IDS WHATEVER.
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ilygetou · 7 months
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zoro with a huge cock he doesn't know what to do with it
i shall elaborate. ૮˃̵֊ ˂̵ ა
cw. fem! reader, breeding kink if u squint, inexperienced!virgin! zoro (but it’s not mentioned), zoro lowkey acts like a pervert, solo male masturbation, hand/blowjob, cowgirl position, lots of cum, awkward boners, boob job, facials, creampie and/or breeding, damn this shit kinda long :/
note. this was supposed to be a 500 word thirst but i ended up writing this 2.3k monstrosity. so enjoy!
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zoro who’s dick is so big & thick he doesn’t know what to do–every time he’d get a hard-on it’d always end up being awkward cause’ anyone who’d be there present with him would be able to notice it. The baggy clothes he’d be wearing would sometimes help him cover up his ridiculously huge erection but zoro still thinks it wasn’t enough coverage.
And when zoro thought it coudn’t get any worse, you suddenly came in the picture. Making the poor man suffer from even more awkward boners.
When he would be hanging around the crew but suddenly he’d get a sudden flash of your face & then he’d be put into this awkward situation. Having to rush to the nearest bathroom in the sunny to take care of his hardening cock.
The whole time zoro was in the bathroom, he would be letting out frustrated groans, he was stroking his cock in an aggressive manner–throwing his head back in frustration and groaning cause’ he was nowhere near his release. And he wishes you were there with him. Because, come on, you were the reason for all this to being with.
Despite zoro’s huge dick, he had heavy breeder balls that’re filled with his hot sperm <3 And zoro sometimes wishes you were with him right now, so he could empty his balls deep insides your cunt. It’s a real shame you aren’t a member of the straw hats, otherwise, zoro would have you stuffed with his massive cock all the time.
Everytime zoro goes off to jerk off, it’d always end up with him edging himself. He thinks he’s doing something wrong at this point–no matter how fast and rough he would be stroking his shaft, it was nowhere near enough and he would never be able to orgasm. Zoro started thinking that the reasoning for this is his ridiculously huge cock. That has to be the reason.
Every time zoro would finally be close to having sex, the person he’s about to fuck always ends up running away as soon and they see his sheer size. So he has been always insecure about his dick size, he’s supposed to be the greatest swordsman for fucks sake. And here he is worrying about the size of his dick.
Maybe if he had a medium sized dick–he would be able to cum as many times as he wants. But with this big one? Yeah, zoro doesn’t think he’ll be able to know what an orgasm feels like any time soon.
That was until zoro bumped into you coincidentally, you greeted him with a sheepish smile and pulled him into an unexpected hug, the poor man felt his face grow hot,, and suddenly his cock was slowly hardening. Zoro curses under his breath, scolding himself mentally, this was not the right time for this.
You were babbling about things you saw on your journey, all while using hand gestures to explain things, you had a small spark in your eyes and zoro could almost feel bad for ignoring whatever you were saying and instead focusing on the way your tits bounced with every move you made, and his eyes travelled downwards to where your crotch was. Your pussy was covered from the layers of clothes you were wearing.
Zoro couldn’t hide it anymore, his erection was poking his clothes and zoro’s face immediately went pale once he saw you take a glimpse of his hard-on. “Zoro we can continue talking in the sunny if that’s alright with you? ’M just tired of standing” and zoro immediately agreed, thinking you actually just wanted to talk–cause what else would you do? A sweet innocent, angel like you wouldn’t pull anything inappropriate.
Zoro had a confused expression when he saw you enter his room instead of just going to sit in the main area, he had an even more confused expression when he saw you lock the door–leaving you two trapped in his room. And when you made zoro sit on the edge of his bed as you went down on your knees, that’s when zoro completely lost it, finally understanding your true intentions.
His lips curved into a smirk once you started tugging on his baggy pants, “oh?” he chuckles, zoro really wasn’t sure about this. He was worried that you might get scared and leave if you saw his ridiculously large cock. “you sure ya’ wanna do this?” and you looked up at him with pleading doe-eyes, you pulled down your shirt, your tits bouncing from the impact; “mhm, wanna have you cum on my face n’ tits, please?”
Zoro’s breath hitched, completely mesmerized from the view in front of him. You finally tugged down his pants, his cock slapping you in the face–zoro immediately muttered a ‘sorry’ his face already turning red. But you honestly didn’t mind, what shocked you more was how big zoro was, you knew he was going to be big by the way his erection was poking his pants but not this big.
His tip itself was huge, it was mushroom shaped and had a pinkish color to it, his shaft was a very light shade of almond, pre-cum dripping down his base and you couldn’t help but worry if it’ll be able to fit inside your mouth or if it’d be able to go between your tits. While you took your time eyeing it, zoro immediately grew worried & insecure–is it too big? did you not like it? And then zoro thought that what if you won’t be able to make him cum as well? He had so many futile jerking off sessions he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to cum anymore.
Zoro was snapped out of his thoughts when you wrapped your small hands around his dick, you had to use both hands to be able to fully satisfy zoro. You started with his tip, circling your thumb around the head until zoro started groaning from the feeling. Slowly moving down to the base and giving it small strokes using both hands, zoro gripped the sheets of his bed–it was completely different from what does.
Zoro would usually just go straight into it, moving his hands rough and fast to get himself to cum but it never worked. But now that you were the one doing it for him, it felt way better than when he does it alone. You were cradling his cock, kneading the tip gently, moving your hands very gently and slow. It was like you were teasing zoro the difference was that it felt so fucking amazing.
You withdrew your hands and zoro groaned in response, his face was flushed red as he took a quick glance at you, his eyes fluttered shut once he saw you positioning his dick between your breasts. He moaned at the soft feeling of your tits around his cock, swallowing his saliva when you took his tip in your mouth, sucking on the fat head of his cock sloppily.
“A-Ahh–shit–” he murmured, running his hands through his hair as he watched your tits swallow his entire length once you squeezed them together. The tip of his cock remained in your mouth, your tongue was wrapped around it–while you kept sucking on it messily. Drool kept dripping from the side of your chin and coating your tits, you looked up at zoro, his head was thrown back as he gripped the sheets beneath him.
When zoro decided to take a small glimpse of your state right now, he immediately regrets it. His huge tip was bulging in your mouth, a few tears covering your lashline, you were squishing your breasts together as you slightly bounced your body. And now, zoro was letting out low hisses, his thighs trembled, cock twitched, and now he was cumming all over your face and tits.
You looked up at zoro with a shocked expression and a cum covered face and zoro himself was shocked as well. He was trying to process this, is this how am orgasm feels like? ’cause fuck, he’s already addicted to the feeling of it.
You licked off the white stains from your face, you got up and pushed zoro back on his bed. “Can i ride you? Pretty please?” zoro’s eyes widened, face becoming even more flushed that even his ears turned red. “I-uh, Are you sure?” you nodded your head, you just had to prepare yourself before taking his stupidly big cock.
You grabbed zoro’s hands, pulling out his middle and index finger, you placed them above your panties, moving zoro’s hands–causing his fingers to rub your clothed cunt, zoro lets you do as you please, watching in amusement as you used him for your own pleasure. Once you took off your panties, you guided zoro’s fingers to your clit, making him rub it until you were moaning from the feeling.
“I think i g-got it, so let me do it” zoro offers and you immediately agreed, letting go of his hands as zoro’s fingers trailed to where your small hole was. This is where his cock was supposed to go? Holy shit. He pushes in his thick digits & your walls immediately clamped down on them, zoro starts with slow thrusts of his fingers–and you were already dripping on them.
With only a few more thrusts, you were already close, zoro’s fingers were already too thick and fulfilling–you can’t imagine how’d it feel to be fucked by his huge dick instead of his fingers. You grabbed zoro’s hands which startled him, “s-stop, wanna cum on your cock instead, please” zoro raised a brow but obeyed nonetheless, retracting his fingers from your drooling cunt.
You placed your hands on his abs for balance as you positioned yourself on top of zoro’s cock, slowly pushing down, your body quivered, breath caught short as the tip was slowly penetrating you and you could already feel the stretch from just the tip alone. And shortly, his whole length was inside you, you still couldn’t move–trying to adjust his ridiculous size.
And zoro couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted you to move, the warmth of your pussy and the way it was sucking him all the way in felt all too good but he can’t stop thinking about how great it’d feel if you’d just fucking move. He then took ahold of your wrists and thrusted his hips upwards, a scream left you, “w-wait zoro!” you weren’t expecting for zoro to be this inpatient.
He thrusted into you one more time, as tears started covering your lashline–he was stretching you so good right now, particularly splitting you open. “Feels so good, fuck” he sighs, feeling your walls clamp down on him, zoro’s eyes fluttered shut, gripping your waist with both hands as he bounced you up and down his cock.
Zoro traces the outline his cock is leaving on your stomach, was this him inside you? He threw his head back, feeling you clench down on him every time the tip hits your cervix. “You’re so good, so good f’me” he coos, and all you could do was nod in response. Tears streaming down your cheeks as you try and bounce on his cock but ending up as a whimpering mess, leaning on zoro for support.
His cock was deep inside you, a bulge visible on your tummy, his hips were pressed against your ass, and his hands were wrapped around your waist. God, You couldn’t ask for more than this, no, zoro couldn’t ask for more. He already came earlier and fuck, it felt so good.
Everytime zoro would thrust upwards, he would let out a hiss, droopy eye’s looking down at your messy face. “shit, you’re so tight” he’d groan, watching as your body trembles with every thrust, as obscene sounds slipped past your lips.
“z-zoro,” and zoro swears he could cum just by the sound of you calling out his name, “gnna’ cum, so close!” you threw your head back as you gripped zoro’s hair, your eyes rolled back as your whole body quivered— pornographic moans left you as you came all over zoro’s cock.
Zoro brought up a hand to your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks, removing a strand of hair and tugging it behind your ear—zoro then gave you a quick peck on the lips. His hands finding their way around your waist once again.
And it wasn’t long after zoro was also near his climax, zoro pressed a hand to his mouth to soak up the moans he’s struggling to hold in while his other hand still held your waist down. Zoro’s thighs trembled, bucking into you until he was cumming deep inside you, stuffing you to the hilt with his thick, creamy cum.
And after that incident, you were zoro’s personal flashlight. Always having his cum on either your tits, face or inside your mouth or/and cunt. You were always getting fucked by zoro, well this was bound to happen — he finally found someone he could give his cum to.
You couldn’t say that you were used to his size, you’d still always get shocked whenever his cock would basically slap you in the face. Always having to do hours of prep to make it fit. And as always, you’d getting fucked too dumb you’d pass out while zoro was still thrusting into you.
Sometimes he’d get too riled up and would slam his cock into your “too small” cunt without any prep and would finally release you when he has already stuffed you with his cum at least five times. He would sometimes make you walk around with his cum dripping down your legs and would watch from afar as you try to run to the nearest valley to clean yourself up.
Despite being stretched by his cock way too many times, you’d always feel tight for zoro and you’d also always feel like his splitting you open every time.
And you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be happy that you got yourself a dumb boyfriend with a stupidly big cock which he doesn’t know how to use without your help.
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saetoru · 7 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ PARTNERS — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationship, you and suguru are partnered for a project instead of satoru…and he doesn’t take the news lightly, dramatic toru and INSTIGATOR suguru
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satoru is sulking—you’d find it a little amusing any other day, but he seems a bit more upset than usual. and quite frankly, suguru isn’t really helping things out either, so you feel just a little bad.
“baby,” you poke his cheek, “it’s not our fault! we just got randomly assigned—”
“whatever,” he huffs. you tug at his arm, but he pulls it away.
it just so happens that the three of you seem to share a class this semester—but unfortunately, suguru is assigned as your partner for a project. it’s the same project satoru wanted to be paired with you for. he seems convinced it’ll be you and him that are called—which, in all honesty, the likelihood of being paired with you out of the multiple people in the class is low, but it’s only added insult to injury that suguru had the odds in his favor.
satoru is not handling it well.
“toru,” you insist, pinching his cheek in hopes to cheer him up. he scowls at you—as if this is your fault, “c’mon, cheer up! now that it’s suguru, you can just tag along when we work—”
“tag along?” he cuts you off, tone bordering on hurt, “so now i’m the third wheel?”
oh dear.
“n-no!” you say quickly—suguru has the audacity to snicker, earning a warning glance from you, “you’re never the third wheel, toru. you’re the first wheel! the only wheel. really!”
“y’know,” suguru starts—you already know whatever he’s about to say is going to make things ten times worse. you try (and fail) to glare at him until he’s silent. “if i recall, the two of you got together through a project, didn’t you? who knows, maybe you’ll have the biggest crush on me after this is over.”
suguru drops the bomb and winks. you look at him like you want to kill him. satoru’s face is devastated.
you think this might be the end.
“what?” satoru gasps, turning to you quickly, “tell him that’s impossible, tell him! tell him he’s hideous and that you only have eyes for me—”
“toru, of course i only have eyes for you, don’t listen to him, he’s just pushing your buttons—”
“hey, you never know. i might charm you,” suguru adds fuel to the fire—this time, you throw your water bottle at him. he catches it with ease, throwing you a smug grin that makes you scowl deeper.
“you’re hideous, suguru,” satoru spits, “no way anyone would leave me for you—”
“that already happened. remember your girlfriend in middle school?”
“that doesn’t count! we were too young to know what love was back then!”
satoru is practically inconsolable now—you consider dropping out of this class just for the sake of peace. maybe you can take it over the summer and be paired with a random stranger that won’t bother your dramatic boyfriend. maybe you can evade the project altogether with a different professor. maybe you can kill suguru and the misfortune of a dead partner can grant you an automatic exemption from this assignment.
you weigh your options as satoru slumps with a pout.
“whatever,” he grumbles, “i don’t even care. have fun without me.”
suguru chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. you sigh before cupping satoru’s cheeks and giving him a small kiss to his forehead to cheer him up.
not surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to work.
“cheer up, baby,” you reason, “at least since it’s just suguru, you won’t have to leave us alone to work! it won’t be awkward if you’re there too.”
“but you’ll be too busy working with suguru to talk to me,” he says bitterly.
“at least i’ll have a handsome face to keep me motivated,” you grin, kissing his jaw—now that…that seems to cheer him up considerably. he brightens, plastering that usual smug grin he sports, as if the world around him wasn’t ending just moments ago.
“i am handsome, aren’t i?” he hums, wrapping an arm around you—mission accomplished, you think happily.
“yeah,” you nod quickly, “and suguru is hideous anyway. i’d never leave you for someone with a tacky man bun—”
“hey, leave my hair out of this—”
“it is pretty tacky,” satoru nods and agrees.
suguru crosses his arms, glaring at the both of you before he opens his mouth to retaliate. you cut in before he can say anything else to worsen satoru’s mood any further.
“and maybe you can help me—you’re smarter than suguru too.”
“he is not—”
“you’re right baby,” satoru hums, “maybe this is for the best. i’ll save both of your grades this way.”
suguru’s vein all but pops. “we don’t need your help—”
“don’t worry suguru,” satoru grins confidently, pointing to himself with his thumb, “i’ll save your grade. no need to thank me—ow!”
you watch tiredly as suguru throws your water bottle at satoru’s head—it’s going to be a long project.
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i already know the switch boy! au people are gonna start the “suguru definitely wants reader” comments. i’m waiting for them i can sense them already
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foxy-eva · 7 months
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Stress Relief
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Summary: When Reader complains about back pain, Spencer offers a massage. Things escalate. 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Smut 
Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) a little bit of awkwardness, massages, implied hand kink, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, unprotected penetrative sex
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
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It wasn't the first time your team had to double up in a hotel while working on a case but you had never ended up being paired with your favorite coworker before. When you stepped into the room after a long day of trying to save lives, you suddenly realized something. 
Spencer was right behind you when he saw it too, mumbling an almost inaudible, "Oh."
Oh. 
There was only one bed. 
The receptionist had already let you know that they were completely overbooked, so switching to a different room was no option. 
Spencer was quick to offer solutions as he started rambling, "I know Morgan said he wouldn't share a room with me but maybe he'll change his mind if I explain this to him?" 
"Don't you think it's more likely he'll tease us? Besides, that would leave me with Hotch and I'd rather share a bed with you than with my boss."
Spencer shrugged and mumbled, "I always liked to double up with Emily. I wonder why she insisted on sharing a room with JJ." 
You looked at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk on your face. "Yeah, who knows!" 
You did know but Spencer was as oblivious as ever. If he was really that bad at seeing what was right in front of him, there was at least a chance that he hadn't yet caught onto your feelings for him either. You really hoped that tonight any improper thoughts you had would be drowned out by the exhaustion slowly taking over your body.
"I can sleep on the floor," Spencer voiced his final offer. 
You shook your head in protest. "The bed is big enough for the both of us."
With that it was settled, you were going to share a bed with the man who had been occupying your mind an almost embarrassing amount. Spencer, however, had never once shown any signs that he reciprocated your growing feelings for him. So instead of addressing them, you decided to simply suffer in silence until they'd pass.
When he stepped into the bathroom to get ready for the night, you couldn't stop your mind from racing to fantasies far from being appropriate. It didn't help to hear him turning on the shower because now all you could think about was tearing your own clothes off to join him. Somehow you managed to keep your composure - for now at least. 
Spencer looked absolutely adorable with his washed-out Caltech shirt and checkered pajama pants, so much so that you took several seconds to blatantly stare at him when he came back into the room. It caused him to look down at his body to make sure that everything was in place. 
“Sorry, you just look really… cute like that,” you muttered to help with his confused look. 
A slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks at your compliment and he looked at you as if he wasn’t quite sure if you were making fun of him. But of course your words were genuine. 
As you gathered your things to go take a shower yourself, you snickered, “It’s a shame that outfit probably wouldn’t pass the FBI dress code.” 
He took a book out of his bag and sat down on one side of the bed, chuckling, “Yeah, it definitely would not pass.”
The shower helped clear your mind and you were positive that you’d be able to go to sleep without any other distractions. As you approached the bed in your usual nightwear - a tanktop and some colorful shorts - it became obvious that Spencer was even worse at hiding his staring than you were. 
“It’s weird, right?” You asked as you sat down on the bed. “Seeing each other in casual clothes, I mean.”
Without saying a word he just nodded before focussing back on his book again. As you leaned against the headboard of the bed you noticed something that had been bothering you all day. Your back was aching and your shoulders were painfully tense. You stretched your arms over your shoulders before you reached back to massage some tender spots on your neck. 
“You okay?” Spencer asked as he turned his head to watch you. 
“Yeah, it’s just my back pain. I slept weird last night and I have been sitting at my desk too much those past few days,” you explained. 
To your surprise, he offered, “Maybe I could help?”
Before you could consider what feeling his hands against your body would do to you, you replied, “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.” 
You readjusted your position until you sat cross-legged on the bed with your back facing your roommate for the night. Spencer set aside his book and sat behind you, tentatively putting his palms on your shoulders. The heat his body radiated entered your body and lit a spark inside you that you desperately tried to ignore. 
When he began pressing his fingertips into the tense muscles of your shoulders and neck, you instantly became pliable under his touch. The places he touched were innocent but that didn’t change the fact that a familiar warmth spread through your body and collected in your center. 
There was no way to hold back the shy moan from falling from your lips when he found a particularly tender spot. 
He halted his motions to ask, “Did I hurt you?”
“No, it just feels really good,” you breathed. 
“That’s nice to hear,” he cooed in the softest tone you’d ever heard from him. “You deserve to feel good.” 
Those last couple of words echoed in your mind before you could grasp what they meant. It was that moment that you asked yourself if the innocent and shy Spencer Reid was trying to flirt with you. 
To distract yourself, you decided to talk to him - unaware what colossal mistake that was going to be.
“So, where did you learn how to give back rubs?” 
Nonchalantly as ever, he responded, “I read a book about it a few years ago.” 
“You read a book about massages?”
The breath he let out at your question tickled the skin of your shoulders and you broke out in goosebumps. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice. 
“Well, it was about tantric practices and there was a very interesting chapter about… uhm… full-body massages,” he explained, not helping with your current situation at all. 
It was getting almost impossible for you to form coherent sentences, even more so when Spencer continued talking. 
“Are you interested in that?”
Almost jumping at his words, you blurted out, “In getting a full-body massage?!” 
“No!” Spencer laughed. “In reading the book!” 
Before you could respond, you felt his hands wander down your back, lightly rubbing over your shirt. It was getting harder to focus with every second passing, too overwhelming became the need to feel more of him. 
“I’ll think about it,” you finally responded. 
Spencer’s fingertips brushed over your lower back, way too lightly to find any tight spots and you were wondering if he was trying to tease you at this point. 
His words brought you back to reality. “I can continue with my massage if you want but uhm.. your shirt is getting in the way.”
Without thinking about it, you stated, “I’m not wearing a bra.”
“I know,” Spencer chuckled. “I won’t look, I promise. Just lay down on your stomach.” 
The feeling of his hands on your body had left your skin tingling and you were yearning to feel it again. So without questioning his intentions or making sure his eyes were really closed, you took off your top and lay down on the mattress. Spencer kneeled beside you and began working his skilled fingers over your entire back. 
Any tightness from tired muscles slowly left your body but you felt another kind of tension growing in your core. When Spencer grazed the waistband of your shorts with his fingertips, a sigh escaped your throat. He didn’t say anything, instead he kept massaging you until there was no patch of skin on your back left unattended to. 
The second time he brushed over your waistband gave away that he was doing it on purpose. For a moment you thought that he might slip his hands right beneath it to descend further down your body. That thought caused you to unwillingly press your thighs tightly together to soothe the aching between your legs. 
Spencer must have noticed it, too, because he audibly let out a breath right at that moment. His hands were still on your back when a quiet moan left your mouth and you noticed that your hips had started moving ever so slightly, desperate to find some friction. You weren’t sure if Spencer had been watching you doing that until you halted those tiny motions. 
“Don’t stop,” he purred. “You look so pretty like this.” 
You turned your head enough to see him from the corners of your eyes. The hardness straining against his pajama pants was impossible to ignore but even more intriguing was the smirk spread over his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were dark and filled with lust. Seeing him like this suddenly let any restraint you had left vanish. 
“Please, Spencer,” you begged him to keep going. 
One of his hands found the side of your face to brush a strand of hair aside. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your heated cheek before he whispered, “Tell me exactly what you want.” 
Spencer’s hands were all you could think about. Every fiber of your body was longing for him and you felt like you might combust if he didn’t grant you relief anytime soon. 
“Please continue and… go lower.” 
In an instant his hands were on your backside, greedily grabbing your soft flesh through your shorts. 
“Like that?” Spencer groaned. 
You tilted your hips to press your butt against his hands and slowly opened your thighs before you whimpered, “Lower.”
As his fingertips wandered over your thighs you felt how your arousal began soaking through the fabric of your panties. His hands dared to move underneath your shorts, grazing along the apex of your thigh. It was not enough to soothe your aching but enough to drive you wild. 
You moaned out his name before whining, “Take them off, please.” 
“You’re so cute when you get all desperate,” he chuckled in response. 
There was no more teasing then. When he finally grabbed the waistband of your shorts, you immediately lifted your hips so he could pull them down together with your panties. He reached between your thighs to finally touch you where you were burning for him. 
The realization of how aroused you were let a groan escape his mouth. His fingertips glided through your folds before focussing on your most sensitive spot while he purred, "You're so fucking wet." 
It was the first time you had ever heard him use a curse word, the sound of such crude language shooting through you like lightning. All your senses were on edge, you couldn't think about anything else but him. 
The sensation of his fingers moving over your sensitive pearl was somehow too much and not enough at the same time. You hadn't realized that you were grinding your hips against his hand until his words brought you back to reality for a moment. 
"You deserve to feel so, so good. Let me take care of you."
At that you point you weren't even sure what you were begging for when an almost silent "Please," made it past your lips. Spencer, however, seemed to understand. He let two of his digits enter you, finding no resistance from your body. As soon as you felt him inside you, you couldn't help but clench around him.
Slowly he began working his fingers against tight muscles at an angle that made you almost lose your mind. There was no more holding back the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, so you buried your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. 
You felt Spencer's free hand brushing over your hair while he whispered, "Don't hide those sounds from me. I want to hear you."
With that you turned your head to the side again, just enough to be able to see his beautiful face. His smile was too much for you to handle, so you decided to close your eyes instead. 
The room filled with your moans and mewls and the sound of his hand relentlessly moving against your wet center. Within just a few minutes you were dancing along the edge of euphoria. Spencer noticed that, too.
"You're doing so good," he praised you. "Let go for me, sweet girl." 
You felt him moving over your swollen nub one more time before your body began to tremble beneath him. He helped you ride out your high with a few more skillful motions before he lay down right beside you. 
When he found your eyes, he whispered, "You okay?" 
Instead of answering him, you grabbed his wrist to bring his fingers to your lips. They were still coated with your essence when you took them in your mouth to suck them clean. Spencer stared at you in disbelief, almost as if he was witnessing some kind of miracle. 
You could still taste yourself on your tongue when you found his lips in a hungry kiss. He didn't waste any time to reciprocate your enthusiasm, his tongue meeting yours as the two of you melted into one another. There was no space allowed between the two of you, with your chest pressed hard enough against his you could feel his accelerated heartbeat. 
His palms began wandering over your exposed skin as if he'd never have enough of touching you. Your hand became curious as well, moving underneath the hem of his shirt to finally feel him without any barrier. It wasn't enough though, you needed all of him.
With joined forces you rid him of his clothes and took a moment to take in the beauty of the man in front of you. As your eyes locked once more you found the sweetest smile spread over his face. 
"You're so pretty," you breathed before kissing him again. 
"And you're so beautiful," he mumbled against your lips. 
His hardness was pressed firmly against your thigh and you could already feel the tip leaking onto your skin. A sneaky hand found its way between your bodies to touch him. Your fingertips found soft curls at the base of him before wrapping around his shaft. He felt hot and heavy in your palm and you noticed him twitching when you began moving your hand. 
Spencer gasped into your mouth once you reached his tip and his whole body quivered when you let your thumb swipe over it. Your kiss was interrupted by him panting against your face as you sped up your motions. 
"Look at who is getting desperate now," you teased him. 
He already seemed lost in the pleasure when he whimpered, "Feels so good."
Your hand left his erection to push against his shoulder until he was lying on his back while you snickered, "You know what would feel even better?"
As you began straddling his hips, Spencer's hands flew to your waist. 
He still needed reassurance before he let you continue. "Are you sure about this?" 
You nodded and promised, “I want you Spencer.” 
"I want you, too. More than you can imagine."
With your hand around his cock you lifted your hips to guide him to your entrance. As you sank down on him, Spencer moaned out your name. You took your time, relishing the sensation of him slowly stretching you open. Once he was fully inside, you could feel his heartbeat deep within you. 
As you began grinding your hips against him, his hands moved from your waist to your breasts to caress your soft curves. 
“You have no idea how long I have wanted you,” Spencer sighed.
You leaned down to find him in a kiss before you whispered against his mouth, "You have me now. I'm yours."
His hips began moving in perfect synchronicity with yours as you chased the sweet relief together. When you began moving faster, Spencer suddenly gripped your hips to halt your motions. 
"I'm so close. Slow down," he whined with desperation clearly audible in his voice. 
That didn't slow you down, though. Instead you purred, "Me, too," and kept going. Spencer threw his head back into the pillows and sang your praise in the form of his moans. You tried to hold on just a little bit longer, not to torture him but because you didn't want it to end yet.
When one of his hands descended from your hip to where your bodies were joined, you knew that it wouldn't be long now. He began drawing small circles with his thumb around your little bud, throwing you over the edge within a few seconds. Once he felt your walls pulsing around him, he let go himself. 
Each of your twitches was answered by him throbbing inside you, sharing his essence with you until he had nothing left to give. Spencer welcomed you inside his arms as you collapsed on top of him with a racing heart and lungs longing for air. 
You stayed connected for as long as physically possible but once he was soft, you felt him slowly slipping out of you together with the mixed evidence of your shared desire. Spencer insisted on helping you clean up the mess between your legs and was quick to get a damp towel from the bathroom.
Watching him carefully rid you of any remaining stickiness somehow felt even more intimate than anything you had done before. Neither of you bothered to put clothes back on, instead you cuddled up under the comforter together to savor the sensation of having each other near.
When you thought back to what led you into Spencer's arms earlier tonight, you couldn't hold back your giggles. 
"Maybe I should read that book you mentioned." 
"You can, if you want," Spencer chuckled before he began kissing along your neck. When he found your ear, he whispered, "I'd much rather show you everything it says, though."
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs
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motimatcha · 2 months
Text
miss you
hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader
what happens to Adam when you go away for a long time?
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Adam really depends on how much attention you give him. As a man who was abandoned by two wives for a "duck" and as a man who was clearly abandoned in subsequent relationships (which most likely were), your attention and confirmation that you are not going anywhere is very important to him.
Adam will probably never admit it, but he gets very worried if he doesn't see you for most of his day. Moreover, you don’t have to have any contact with each other, if Adam just sees you a couple of times a day and you pay your attention to him, he will be more than calm.
And therefore, the information that you will have to leave heaven for two whole weeks, just because you need to start teaching people on the true path, on the righteous path, did not make him happy at all. Most likely, there was a whole scene where Adam tried, if not to beg you to stay, then at least to go with you. He was ultimately not allowed.
Adam, of course, accompanies you (along with Lute, to whom you give instructions on how to deal with your man). He wants to enjoy his last moments with you before the long days of waiting for your return begin. His hands never stop touching your body: constantly holding your hand, intertwining your fingers, putting his hand on your waist, touching your wings, stroking your hair, kissing and all that - he wants to remember the feeling of your body, taste and voice for the entire time while you're gone.
It holds up relatively well. At first. Over time, it becomes noticeable to everyone how his character is deteriorating, it becomes even worse until the moment of your relationship, which is an indicator and a wake-up call for other angels. Everything reminded him of you, especially being in your common home (not surprising): your things, photographs, smell. Adam, at first, even out of habit, sets the table for two, before remembering that you are temporarily absent. Your portion goes to Lute, who feels awkward.
Perhaps the climax was when Adam decided to take up his work as the leader of the exorcists. He needed at least something to prevent obsessive thoughts from entering his head, and due to the fact that the seraphim refused to provide him with any information about you, these thoughts visit him quite often. Adam locks himself in his office and finally touches the papers and documents that required his attention.
He spends his time working from early morning until late evening, sometimes simply spending the night in his office. Adam becomes nervous, tense and angry with every matter that he cannot solve due to his hot-tempered nature, since some decisions required a sensitive attitude and could not be solved with a snap of his fingers. Usually he asked for your help or advice, but due to your absence, he had to turn to Lute, who was also not known for her kindness and gentleness of character.
Adam begins to get annoyed by other angels, especially the happy angels or couples that he meets here and there. "Why are they so happy?" — flashes through his head, or: “Everyone is deliberately getting on my nerves?!”. At some point, Adam breaks down. This probably happened in his office, when some angel handed him a new stack of documents and raised the topic of your absence.
Lute, who was returning to Adam’s office, found a picture of a frightened angel lying on the floor, and Adam bending over him and almost growling at him to get out. After this incident, the angels try to tiptoe around Adam, not look in his direction and not breathe, and God is a witness to whoever upsets Adam’s fragile mental balance. From now on, all matters are transferred personally to Lute, so that she can take everything to Adam.
The angels begin to mentally count the days until your return so that this nightmare ends.
At the end of the last day, when the sky turned a shade of scarlet, as if bursting into flame, a golden portal opened in the sky testified that the angels sent to earth were returning. The rising wind pulled the curly clouds inward, which is why at first it was impossible to say for sure which of the angels appeared in heaven first.
Lute stood in the front row among those awaiting the return of their loved ones. It would be more accurate to say that she was floating almost a couple of meters from the portal, which was slowly distorting space to create a stable corridor between two dimensions. She needed to meet with you as soon as possible while Adam is in a meeting where he is 100% likely to be reprimanded for his behavior over the past two weeks.
— Lute? — sincere surprise is heard in your voice when you leave the portal and see her, and not Adam. — And where?..
— It’s because of him that we need to hurry.
Lute extends his hand to you, which you immediately take. The angel exorcist pulls you along, causing you to jerk forward sharply at first, but in time you begin to flap your own wings, trying to keep up with the girl.
During these two weeks among people, you forgot how powerful exorcist angels are.
You can't help but notice how some angels accompany you with looks of encouragement, looks of relief. You can only wonder what this is connected with, but Adam will definitely be the main figure in this matter. It was suspiciously quiet in parliament, only the rustling of papers, the fluttering of wings, and barely audible whispers coming from the offices behind the high doors. Initially, it was suspicious that Lute brought you here, and not to your home or Adam’s home, and only when approaching his office did you clearly see this certain line, an exclusion zone, where there is not a single ascended soul except you and Lute.
— Adam is now at a meeting, — Lute informs you and, taking out the keys, opens the door to the office, — Please wait for him here.
Lute's voice was full of unspoken pleas and a little panic, as if something terrible would happen if you left. Perhaps Lute’s fears were not so far from the truth, because who knows what Adam will do if he doesn’t see you today; he already missed the opportunity to meet you first. Lute leaves, apparently after Adam, so that he does not waste his time searching for you near the portal to Earth.
Adam's office greets you with darkness, illuminated by light from the crack under the door. The room is hot and stuffy, and there is a sour taste; you doubt that Adam ventilated his own office or did it very rarely. The room was surprisingly tidy and the mountain of documents that was on the table during your last visit was missing, indicating that there was work. Having spread your wings, you fly up to the thickly curtained window to not only let the light of the setting sun into the room, but also to give way to the fresh evening air.
Fingers pull the string and the curtains part to the sides, raising clouds of dust from the windowsill. It immediately becomes lighter, warmer and more comfortable, even a certain atmosphere of romance and mystery creeps in. You pull the handles of the windows, allowing them to creak open and immediately a cool breeze slid over your body, ruffling your hair and feathers of your wings. Until Adam's hot hands touched your waist.
— Hi Adam, — you say and turn in his arms so you’re face to face. — Well, what have you already done?
Adam's grip only became stronger on your waist, but not yet so pressing as to cut off your access to oxygen. Adam, like a cat or dog that was starving for the attention of its beloved owner, wanted to be as close to you as possible, to occupy all your thoughts - a selfish desire to be your only priority. His hand takes your wrist to bring it to his face and rub against your palm, tickling the sensitive skin with the stubble that has begun to grow. Adam looked really tired, as evidenced not only by the dark circles under his eyes, but also by his slow, inhibited actions.
— Sweet tits, who do you even think I am?.. And in general, I really missed my beauty, who left her beloved guy for two weeks. Do you know how I suffered for you?
Looking around his office again and remembering the looks that accompanied you from the other angels, you could imagine the scale of the tragedy that Adam caused every day. And it was honestly and sincerely funny, even a little sweet; a laugh escapes your lips, causing Adam to smile as well before scooping you up in his arms and turning to face his desk, setting you down on the dark wooden surface.
— Next time I’ll go with you, wherever it may be, — Adam promised you with a threat, and then his smile turns from gentle to anticipatory. The fingers on your sides dig deeper into your skin and pull you towards the edge of the table, causing you to wrap your legs around his body and feel his growing erection. — And now you have to take care of the fact that you abandoned me for two weeks.
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yanderenightmare · 2 months
Text
Deku - Midoriya Izuku
TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere
gn reader
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Thinking about being childhood friends with Izuku, who’s always had a bit of a crush on you. 
You’ve always known, but you’ve never humored it. He’s your friend – anything else would just be awkward. If you had to put it in any other term, you’d say he felt more like a little brother.
You wish he’d allowed the two of you to grow apart – as normal people do.
There wasn’t really any reason for the two of you to stay friends after middle school. His quirk suddenly manifested, and he got into UA – became a pro-hero – and then the symbol of peace. And you were still… kind of just doing your thing – studying, working, struggling to pay rent – struggling to keep a date…
The two of you never had much in common anyway, and you never really knew what to talk about with him anymore – only knowing to ask him how his mother was. After all, you grew out of your otaku phase a long while ago – and otherwise, you felt out-educated in any and every conversation the two of you had with each other. You swear talking to him makes you feel like a toddler learning your first words – it’s humiliating, and you don’t understand how any of it’s remotely stimulating for him, either.
Still, he’ll text you when he has the time, asking if you’d like to meet up at a café – talk, catch up – and you, not wanting to be rude, always accept.
You’d gone wide-eyed the first time you’d met him after middle school. Jeez Louise – he’d had to have grown twice his size – jacked and scarred to no end. It only got worse over the years. Now, adults – he must be twice your size. Bigger even.
You blush now when he flirts with you. But not so much for the reasons he wants.
Honestly, it’s more uncomfortable than it’s flattering. It was Izuku, after all – Deku – no matter how little he resembled the crybaby from your childhood – he’d always be that same nerdy loser friend who’d chased after you ever since you first met.
He might have grown up, but his crush on you hadn’t.
His doe-eyed look of longing and adoration had always made you feel a little awkward – a little sorry for him. And now that he’s become a man, it’s only become even more… desperate… a little pathetic, actually…
Bedroom eyes that make you laugh nervously, pretending to brush it off as a joke but really wishing he’d just give it a rest already. Surely, as a pro-hero and public figure, he could get a date? One of the many screaming fans that pine for him everywhere he drags that awful golden cape he has on his shoulders. And if not any of them, then maybe a model. A movie star even.
Why is he so hung up on you?
The funny thing is, you’d tried vying him of his crush by telling him about hook-up after hook-up, boyfriend after boyfriend – treating him like a girlfriend you could gossip with.
But it’s almost like he takes it as a challenge – talking and helping you through your relationships, giving his input and advice – just like a real friend would… only… always implementing something… something condescending, something suggestive, something saying you ought to be with him instead – he’d never treat you like that, he’d never do you wrong, you’d be taking good care of with him.
You’d made the mistake of saying you were struggling with a class at university – just to make conversation – just to talk about something trivial. But of course, he’d seen it as an opportunity – quick to offer his help, saying he’d taken that class as an extracurricular – just for a bit of fun, he’d said, light reading material he’d done on the side of his internship.
You don’t know why it’s so hard to tell him no.
Suppose it’s the possibility of being wrong – the guilt of thinking he has impure intentions when he’s supposedly the purest person in the world.
But you should have trusted your instincts.
“Please, Izuku-” You’d immediately restored to begging. Who wouldn’t? He’s a two-meter-tall monster of a man – jacked with muscles fatter than a bear.
Your phone’s been missing since you came back from the bathroom – your lips wet with his unwanted kisses – your neck sore from having his fist wrapped around it when you tried stopping him.
You’d only managed to break free after biting – blood salty in your mouth. You nearly vomited, choking on a mix of bile and fear.
Fuck – your legs are so weak, you might just buckle from the dread alone – feeling like a bunny snagged on fox teeth.
“You used to take me when we’d play wrestle... you remember?”
The comment is pulled out of nowhere.
He stalks you, a fond look on his face as though the two of you were reminiscing good old times. As though his eyes weren’t a nocturnal green like foxfire on the fen. As though he wasn’t radiating black whip – ready to snare you.
“Think you can take me now?”
You had your hands raised apprehensively – but the hopelessness took its toll and made your entire body shake on the spot.
Your only hope was to talk him out of it. If only you could think past the fear and string a sentence together that wasn’t along the lines of “Please-”
But something about that look on his face told you he wouldn’t listen to reason anymore. Not manic, not like a person who’d finally snapped – but controlled – resolute – and playful even. Nothing like you’d ever seen. Nothing you could understand.
“What’s wrong, hm?” He smiles, head tipped in that charming way that used to make you want to pinch his cheek. Now it just makes you sick to look at – swallowing thickly as you tack another step back away from it. “I’ll go easy – so don’t worry… I know it's not exactly a fair fight anymore…”
Your better judgment failed you – fight-or-flight kicked in, and you made a break for it. 
Budging into the couch on your way, it’s a messy scramble for the door – but you manage. Feeling feverish with dread and pumped full of adrenaline, you brush the cold handle with just your fingertips before something wraps around your midriff in a snug grip – pulling you back into the living room.
You’re lifted from the ground, kicking – now screaming – flailing in the air before you’re flipped on your back against the couch.
“Don’t be like that~” He murmurs. “Always so wishy-washy~” Voice in a low purr that makes you feel like coughing up your heart – squirming beneath him and his heavy hands as they paw your thighs – manhandling you like nothing you’d ever imagine him to do.
Raking his fingers through the dough before squeezing your ass greedily – kneading his fat crotch against the thin fabric protecting your sex. 
“Complaining about all your weak-dicked boyfriends as if begging me to come fuck you myself – yet such a flighty little slut when it comes down to it.” He sneers, and blackwhip tightens some around your limbs. “Let me help you out.”
One hand tugs your underwear until it rips, whilst the other hand pulls up to grab your face – squeezing your cheeks to keep you still when forcing his kisses on you.
“After all… what are friends for?”
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reiding-writing · 2 months
Note
Hey Red! I really enjoyed all of your writings especially because I am also a sucker for angst and hurt/comfort fic. Anyway, can I request fic about post-prison Spencer x reader (romantic) where the reader is the one who distanced herself from Spencer because after the first time Spencer released from prison, he doesn't want to touch anyone? Bet he'll be so heartbroken and thinking that she's over their relationship. Thank you! Sorry if it's too specific ❤️
distance [ s.r ]
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Spencer makes a show of physically distancing himself from his teammates after he returns from prison, and in trying to abide by that boundary you accidentally misread his intentions
WARNINGS: miscommunication, established relationship
pairing: post-prison!spencer x gn!reader
genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort, happy ending
wc: 1.6k
masterlist!!
a/n: gave this one a happy ending as an apology for transgression-
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You waited for 84 days to see him again; And yet now he’s stood here in front of you you can’t even bring yourself to speak to him.
He’s thinner than you remember. His cheekbones show more prominently. He has stubble lining his chin. His hair is more unruly. His eyes don’t shine anymore.
Spencer changed in those 84 days, and the second you caught his eyes a hairline fracture formed in your heart.
Gone was the Spencer who would light up at the most insignificant thing. Gone was the Spencer who would look at you with those sweet innocent eyes that would make you weak at the knees. Gone was the Spencer who would link his pinky finger in yours so that he could anchor himself to you no matter where you were.
Gone was the Spencer you knew.
Your Spencer didn’t exist anymore.
You watched as he swerved a hug from Morgan as he entered the office, clasping both of his hands behind his back with an awkward smile as he walked through the bullpen towards you were standing in front of his desk, eerily resembling the 23 year old Spencer who avoided everyone like they had the plague.
“Hey Spence…” Your voice is a lot more breathless than you thought it’d be, only amplified as you look into those gorgeous hazel eyes that you’d dreamed about being able to look into again for the past three months. “..How are you?”
It’s a completely unnecessary question Spencer thinks, it makes it sound like you’re just his co-worker and not the love of his life.
“I’m alright…” His eyebrows twitch when you take a few steps away from his desk as he nears you, like you can’t bear to be too close.
Then again, he probably looks like hell, so he can’t entirely blame you.
But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.
“That’s good,” You press your lips into a line, nodding softly with your eyes flickering everywhere except his face. He’d been gone for 84 days, but you were treating him like you’d never met.
“I’m gonna go make some coffee-” You point lamely towards the kitchenette with your thumb, sliding past him to walk towards it as he watched you leave, eyes burning into the back of your head.
It was a weird feeling to say the least. You were ecstatic that he was home, that you could finally see his beautiful face again and know that he wasn’t suffering in a prison cell. But you weren’t sure how to express that. Whether you should express that.
You fumble with the coffee machine as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Everything about Spencer’s body language when he entered the office told you he wanted space, and you wanted to respect that.
You understood that he’d definitely been through a lot over the past few months and that he wanted time to collect himself before he let anybody else back in; But the way he looked at you when you moved away from him made you unsure. Did he want to be left alone? Did he actually want you to suffocate him with a hug like you were originally planning on doing?
You weren’t sure. And that was the worst part, because depending on which option you chose you could unintentionally swerve things into being worse than they already were.
You chose the safe option. Let him come to you. Leave him be and allow him to choose what he wanted.
He didn’t approach you for a few days, and you figured that meant your decision was correct, that he truly did just want some space to gain his bearings again and allow himself the downtime to focus on himself before anyone else.
You were wrong.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Spencer caught you right as you left the office, stood in the middle of the hallway leading to the elevator with an exhausted expression on your face after working for almost 10 straight hours.
You do nothing more than blink in his direction at his question, exhaustion morphing into confusion once your eyes catch him expression.
You could see his own tiredness echoed through the bags forming under his eyes and the way his shoulders slumped at his sides, but you could also see a flicker of hurt floating around in his gaze, seemingly amplified under the white florescents as if to torture you.
“I’m- not avoiding you Spencer,”
“Yes you are.” His tone is rigid, a stark difference from the soft and whispered tone you’d grown used to with him. It felt like having a bucket of ice water poured over your head, and as if to physically acknowledge that feeling, a shudder ran its way up your spine and into the base of your skull. “Every time I’m within ten feet of you, you make an excuse to leave.”
You can’t really argue with him there. You had been keeping your distance. But only because you thought that’s what Spencer wanted.
“Do you not love me anymore? Is that it? Am I too broken for you now?”
“What- No-” Your confusion turns into shock at his accusations, and you immediately shake your head in denial.
“Then why are you treating me like a stranger you’ve never met?” His tone borders between angry and upset, and you can see the start of tears forming in his eyes as he stares at you like you’d just ripped up a first-edition copy of his favourite book.
“I waited for the day i’d finally be able to see you again and now you’re acting like I never existed in your mind at all.” You can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to stop it from cracking under his emotions.
“Spence-”
“Have you moved on? You found someone better for you right?”
“Spencer-”
“I hope he makes you happy-”
He barely has time to get out the last sentence as you give a sharp tug on his tie and pull his face down to yours, effectively silencing all of his insecurities with a kiss. It’s soft but firm, and slightly salty. He must’ve started crying.
“I love you Spencer.” Your words hold no room for debate as your lips part from his, connection maintained through the way your foreheads press together.
“But you- Why did you- I thought…” His mind seems to run a thousand miles a minute as he stares at you, finally close enough to see the details of your face that nobody else had the privilege to know. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore…”
“Spence…” You shake your head as it rests against his, a firm denial of his doubt in your complete and utter adoration of him.
“But you kept moving away from me whenever i’d try to come over to you,” He speaks through stuttered breaths, his eyes squeezed shut to hopefully stop the tears that assault his cheeks, running hot down his skin and pooling underneath the curve of his chin.
“I just thought you wanted space baby,” Your thumbs move deftly over his cheeks, wiping away the streaks of tears and taking Spencer’s insecurity with them. “I saw you dodging everyone’s advances and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,”
“I don’t want space from you,” When he opens his eyes again, they’re big, round, and still glistening with the moisture of his tears. But most of all they’re filled with nothing but pure affection for you. “I never want space from you…”
You sure that if you keep eye contact with him for much longer that you’ll start crying yourself, so you redirect his head to lie against your shoulder as you wrap your arms tight around his torso.
“I missed you…” His voice is so quiet that if you weren’t holding him in your arms you wouldn’t have heard it.
“I missed you too Spence,” Your head rests against his, you hand rubbing soft lines up and down his spine over his shirt as he soaks in all the affection he’s missed over the last three months.
“Can I stay at yours tonight? Please?” His gaze is enough of a ‘please’ in itself, but the way his voice drops to almost a whisper when he adds the plea onto the end of his question makes it impossible for you to deny him. Although it’s not like you were going to in the first place.
“Of course you can Spence,” You place a kiss to his left temple as you carefully break the hug, taking his hand in yours to lead him to the elevator. “Lets go home,”
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strang3lov3 · 4 months
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Massage Chair
Summary: Joel teaches you to massage him, then takes advantage of your new skill. After, he shows his gratitude.
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Tags: Lots of joel teasing, malicious compliance, light arguing, smut, fingering, teasing, romantic massaging, creampie, slower and more emotional, joel comforting u after boning.
a/n: thank you for your patience with me! I wanted to have this done last week, but I ended up in the ER which slowed me down a little. But, that gave me more time to write and @papipascalispunk time to beautifully edit this <3 she's such a babe.
(mall rats 5, though can be read as standalone. find more mall rats in my masterlist)
A brown leather chair is flipped on its side, and Joel’s tinkering with the parts inside, cursing and hissing expletives. It’s a broken massage recliner that came with Joel’s house, and he spotted the same model at Macy’s back in the old mall. So he stole bits and pieces, and now he’s attempting to fix the chair. It’s not going too well. 
“God bless it,” Joel grumbles at you, “Quit shinin’ the flashlight on the damn floor. Shine it inside the chair.”
“I am shining it inside the chair, Joel,” you argue, “Why don’t you make Ellie hold the flashlight for you?”
“‘Cause she can’t hold it right either. You girls suck at using flashlights,” Joel grimaces as he sits up off the ground, then reaches for your hand that’s holding the light. He manipulates your position, adjusting the way you’re sitting and how you hold the flashlight and says, “There. Stay like that.”
You smirk, “Oh Joel, it makes me so hot and bothered when you take control of me like that.” 
Joel sighs, frustrated with you. Like always. “Was that really necessary?” 
“Of course it was,” you reply. Moving gingerly, he lays back down on the carpeting. The chair makes small, metallic clanging noises as he works, and you’ve got a perfect view of his ass. So tight and plump in those jeans. What a treat. 
Joel turns on his side, twisting his torso to reach for a different screwdriver. This time, he grunts in pain. He works a little longer, then tosses the screwdriver aside before hoisting himself up. His knees crack and ache as he slowly stands up, carefully pulling the chair upright and plugging it into an outlet. You watch as he sits in the chair, lifts up the armrest to press a few buttons, and the chair comes to life. He keeps his eyes squinted shut, his chest rising and falling heavily with every labored breath he takes. He fidgets with the buttons as the chair makes different mechanical whirring noises, vibrating and pressing into his back. 
“Can I try it?”, you ask. 
“No,” he deadpans, “S’not massagin’ too good anyway – kinda just vibrates. And before you ask – no,” you smirk as he glares at you, “It doesn't vibrate like that. So don’t even think about doin’ that to my chair, you horndog.” He knows you so well.
When Joel is done speaking, he sighs and closes his eyes again. It’s a little awkward, watching Joel sit in his massage chair. He doesn’t seem very comfortable, and it’s making you feel sort of sad. His back has been killing him for weeks. He doesn’t talk about it much, but you can tell it’s getting worse. As he squeezes his eyes shut, those two little lines between his brows grow more prominent than usual. He inhales through his nose and exhales from his mouth, like he’s trying to breathe away the pain. 
Before the outbreak, he found things like heated massage chairs and beds that move up and down to be frivolous and unnecessary. In his twenties and thirties, if his back hurt he’d pop a few Advil and tough it out. Not exactly an option now. So, an old massage chair it is. 
“Have you been icing your back, Joel?”, you ask but Joel opens just one eye and glares at you. You take his silence as a no. “You need to ice it.” 
“My back’s fine,” Joel lies as he rolls his eyes at you, “Go away. Go play in traffic.”
“Are you keeping yourself hydrated?”, you continue.
“Yes.” You look at Joel, then you look next to him. The full glass of water on his end table says otherwise, condensation pooling on the wood. Joel looks there too, then back at you as you stare at him, unimpressed, “Yeah, I drink enough water, dammit. What’s with the third degree?” 
You ignore his question, “Are you getting enough rest?”
“What do you think I’m tryin’ to do right now?” Again, you stare at him with an unimpressed expression. Joel sighs, exasperated, “For the love of god, I rest plenty.” Out of all the ways you could annoy him, this is the most brutal. It’s torturous. He continues, “I’d rest easier if you weren’t here, y’know. So get gone. Quit naggin’ me.”
“Charming, Joel. Like always,” you tell him, your tone sarcastic. Lifting yourself up, you stand in front of him and take his hand in your own. You pull with all of your might to lift him up, and drag him to his feet. He groans the entire time.
“Oh, come on,” Joel complains. He knows that look you’ve got on your face, knows that you’re on a mission and he’s coming with. Of course he’s coming with. He’s always stuck with you, somehow. “What are you signin’ me up for now?”, as you lead him to his room, matching his slow pace as he takes heavy steps, so as not to overwhelm his ancient bones.
“Bed,” you tell him. 
Oh. Joel gets it now. You’re forcing him to take a rest. Could be worse, he supposes, but he always has a flair for the dramatic, so he sighs heavily as he lays down, making sure you know he is not happy that you’re putting his ass to bed. You untie his boots and pull them off his feet, then toss them aside. 
Just as Joel settles on his back, you move to his side of the bed and put your hands under his torso and thigh, then roll him onto his stomach rather harshly. He yelps in pain, “Jesus Christ–”
“Sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. You join him on the bed, straddling his butt, careful not to put too much pressure on him. 
Joel is confused beyond words. Before he can process what you’re doing, he feels you bouncing the sides of your hands down his shoulders and spine, and then you’re pinching and smushing his body haphazardly. “Uhh, what are you doin’ to me?”, he questions now. It is a deeply uncomfortable sensation. 
“Massaging you, because your chair doesn’t work,” you tell him, continuing your work on his back, “It’ll help you rest. I’m feeding two birds with one scone, Joel.”
“That – that’s not how the phrase – fuck, never mind,” Joel relents, baffled as you “massage” him. He lets you continue for a few moments longer before deciding he’s had enough. “Sweetheart, it’s very kind of you, but you are terrible at this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, no, this is god awful. You’re gonna break my damn spine in half,” Joel pauses before speaking again, thinking to himself. There’s no way you’ve had or given a massage before now. “Am I your guinea pig?”
“Kinda,” you answer quietly.
“I could tell,” Joel taps you on the leg twice, “Alright, get off and switch me spots.”
“What for?”, you ask. 
“So I can teach ya how it’s done and keep you from committing a fuckin’ felony assault on my back,” he says, “What you’re doin’... it’s inhumane, darlin’.” He’s being very Joel about this. Harsh, a little rude. Dramatic. You climb off him and he scoots off of his bed. “Take off your shirt,” he tells you, “S’rule one of a good massage. You’re supposed to massage a person, not their clothes.”
“Noted,” you say. Joel leaves then, maybe to give you privacy or something, not that you need it. If Joel wants you to strip naked, you’ll strip naked, no questions asked. You’d lay yourself on a silver platter for him, cherries on your ass and an apple in your mouth. Though, you do think it’s sweet he’s trying to keep you feeling comfortable. Joel Miller, always the gentleman.  
You strip nude, then lay on your stomach on the bed, right where Joel was. His sheets feel warm from his body heat and they smell like him too, warm and musky and woody. You’re facing his window, where outside it’s overcast and gloomy. On his bedside table sits his book of crossword puzzles. 
The stairs and floorboards creak as Joel returns to you. He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you naked and face down in his bed, rolling his eyes at your lack of modesty. Joel places a few things on his dresser, then a little glass container full of oil on his bedside table. “Only had to take your shirt off, hon,” he says. 
“Oh. I thought you wanted me naked.”
“You’ve got selective hearing,” Joel lowers the curtains by his window and lights a few candles on his dresser, “I think you wanted you naked.” In the darkened room, he moves behind you and you hear the sound of fabric moving before he’s draping a blanket over your bum. You shrug, “Sorry, Joel. Guilty as charged.”
“Uh huh,” he mumbles. Joel rolls up his sleeves before beginning. “You ready?”, you nod, and so does he. He takes the container of oil and drizzles it down your spine. It’s warm, a little sweet and fragrant. You feel relaxed already. Joel then pours some of oil into the palm of his hands and rubs them together. “First thing, you always wanna be mindful of any painful or sensitive areas. Anything you need me to be careful about?”
“Uh, no. My back doesn’t usually hurt,” you tell him. 
“Must be nice,” he mumbles. After rubbing his palms together, he places them on your back. He spreads the drizzled oil from your lower back up to your neck and shoulders in long strokes with his palms, so big and strong and warm. You sigh in relief. “The oil makes it easier to glide your hands. Don’t wanna use too much, though. And you’re gonna spread it out, nice and even.” 
You nod, your eyes closed, “What about the candles?”
“Candles don’t make a difference. Just thought you’d like ‘em,” Joel whispers. 
“I do.”
He spends the next couple minutes using wide, gentle strokes of his hands to completely spread the oil over your body. Once he’s satisfied, he places his hands at your shoulders.  He works his thumbs into your traps and up your neck, pushing and sliding them up your skin. “How’s the pressure?”, he asks, “Too much? Not enough?” 
“Little too much,” you tell him. 
Joel lightens the pressure and continues the motion, “Feel nice?”
All you can do is hum in response. It feels incredible. His hands are so firm and gentle, so careful. Your skin is warm and his touch is comforting. He works his way down your body, massaging and rubbing your muscles. He alternates between circular and back and forth movements. 
“Good. Remember that. Be nice and fluid when you massage me,” Joel whispers, “None of that karate choppin’ shit.” 
“None of that karate choppin’ shit,” you repeat, matching his tone. 
Joel massages you everywhere for the next ten minutes. Instructing you to stay away from the spine directly, but focus your pressure next to it. Focus on the muscles. You can dig your thumbs in, use your knuckles, even the heels of your palms. He tells you he’s being more gentle, but he’s gonna need you to use your body weight. 
“You writin’ this down?”, he asks. 
“Mmm, yeah. Got my pen and paper right here,” you murmur. He massages a sensitive spot on your back and you moan softly. 
“Hey,” he warns, “Don’t be enjoyin’ this so much. S’for my benefit, not yours. I’ve got ulterior motives for massagin’ you.”
“Oh?”, you whisper.
“Yeah, oh. You volunteered yourself to fix my back, so I’m gonna take advantage.”
“Joel?”
“What’s that, hon?” he asks quietly. 
“I’m not, fuck, right there,” you breathe, “M’not learning a whole lot. Need some more pointers.”
“Always workin’ an angle,” he retorts, “But I don’t have nothin’ else to tell ya.” Joel massages you quietly for a couple more minutes, generously giving you more massaging than he anticipated. But he likes it, likes knowing you’re feeling good. The soft noises you’re making, how smooth your skin feels. He loves watching the candlelight dance across your skin while he runs his palms up and down your hips, your sides, pouring over your curves. You’re lost in the sensation for a few moments longer before Joel taps your hip, “Alright, time’s up.” 
“No, Joel, come on,” you whine, “Not yet, don’t stop now.” 
“Move it,” he says, tapping your hip harder, “S’my turn. My back hurts, not yours. You said so yourself.” 
You whine again, “Please? Just a little longer.”
“Mmm, nope. Let this be a lesson to ya, don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish.” Joel leaves to go to his bathroom then, turns on the hot water in his sink and returns with a warm rag. He gently scrubs your back, removing the excess oil. 
Finally, you sit up in defeat. “Give me that,” you grumble, reaching for the rag. You take it to the bathroom and rinse it out for Joel as he begins undressing. When you return, Joel is shirtless face down in his bed, a blanket draped over his ass, just like how he had you. 
“Alright hon, I’m ready. Show me whatcha got.” 
Standing next to him, you step a little closer to the bed and survey Joel. He’s on his tummy facing you, his eyes shut gently. He looks gorgeous like this, his hair messy, his shoulders thick and broad. You trace the curve of his back with your eyes, curious when you look at his ass. So plump under that blanket. Reaching forward, you lift the blanket. 
“What’re ya doin’,” Joel asks in an annoyed tone. 
“I’m just…”, you trail off, admiring the swell of his ass cheeks. Joel doesn’t seem to mind when you touch his bum, squeezing the flesh gently and watching it move beneath your fingertips.
“You’re snoopin’,” he answers his own question for you. 
“Yeah,” you breathe. You look at Joel again, and he’s still got his eyes shut. A small smile on his face that you know wouldn’t be there if he knew you were looking at his face.
“Why don’t you snoop a little higher, dirty bird.” 
“Okay,” you murmur, draping the blanket over his ass. “Can you remind me of step one again?”
“Ah, someone wasn’t payin’ attention,” he teases, “Sure. Ya gotta ask me where it hurts.” 
“Where’s it hurt?”
“Everywhere.” 
You sigh, “Thanks, Joel. That’s helpful.” 
“Wouldn’t hurt to give my neck and shoulders a little extra lovin’, though.” You nod, then reach for his shoulders. “Nuh uh,” he tuts, “Oil first.” You reach for the oil and hover it over Joel’s body. “Easy does it. Little goes a long–”, but Joel is interrupted when he feels a large splash of oil on his back, dripping over his sides and onto his sheets. Definitely gonna stain.
“Ah, fuck,” you curse, “My bad.”
“God bless it,” Joel grumbles, “S’alright. Get the rag and clean me up a little.”
Doing as you’re told, you get the rag from the bathroom and wipe away the oil you don’t need. Then you spread the oil on Joel’s back, using your palms to drag it from the area just above his ass cheeks to his wide shoulders. Joel hums in satisfaction. You lean over him to begin massaging his body, but you’re finding it uncomfortable. “Do you mind if I straddle you again?” you ask, “To reach your back easier.”
“Go for it.”
You hold onto Joel’s shoulders for stability as you straddle yourself over him, sitting on his ass and settling your knees at his sides. This way, you have much more mobility. You place your palms at his lower back, thumbs on either side of his spine and press into him hard, then work your hands up his body. He sighs softly. “How’s that?”, you ask.
“Jury’s still out,” he replies, “Do that again, little harder this time.” When you do, Joel sighs deeper, “S’it. Much better.”
You repeat the general motion, but vary your movements. Sometimes letting your hands explore his sides, making big and small circles, large sweeping motions. Joel groans when you walk your thumbs up his spine. “Yeah, very nice,” he praises. 
Once at his upper back, you focus pressure on his shoulders and neck. You curl your fingers inward and use your knuckles for added pressure. “Little more,” he tells you. You press harder, but his muscles are so tight. “Harder,” he says, “C’mon, use some elbow grease.”
“I’m gonna hurt you, Joel,” you argue. 
“You ain’t gonna hurt me,” he says. “In fact, I want you to try.” 
“Huh?”
“Yeah, hon. Hard as you can. Like you’re tryna squeeze the life outta me.”
Shaking your head, you try it. You squeeze his traps, digging your thumbs into his flesh as hard as you can. You watch his skin turn white under your fingertips. 
“Fuck,” he moans, “There it is. Good girl, doin’ such a good job.” 
Oh dear lord. His words go straight to your pussy. You continue to work his neck and shoulders, listening to Joel breathe and sigh, moan and groan. You admire his back, his freckles and moles and stretch marks here and there. “Good girl,” he praises you again. He whispers it over and over and over. Good girl. 
He’s making all sorts of sinful noises, cursing all kinds of obscenities, and you’re falling to pieces just listening to him, feeling his hot skin. You picture his face, contorted in pleasure. 
You feel warm, your core beginning to ache. You didn’t quite expect to get so worked up over this. As you lean forward over Joel to massage him, you tilt your hips into his back, pressing yourself against him for some sort of relief. Maybe repeating the motion once or twice. 
“I can feel that,” he says. 
“Feel what?”
“You. Drippin’. Rockin’ those hips on me. You’re makin’ a mess all over me, dirty bird.”
Your cheeks heat up and you’re feeling a little bashful at the accusation. 
“Ya gotta finish my massage before we take care of that, hm?”
“Yeah,” you agree. Not like you have much left to do anyway. You’ve been massaging him for half an hour at this point, paid special attention to each area of his back. After massaging him for a few minutes longer, you tap his shoulder blade to let him know you’re done. Joel lifts himself up and begins to twist over, so you lift up to your knees to make room. “Wait, Joel, your sheets–”
“You ruined ‘em already.” He’s right. Oh well. 
Once he’s settled, you sit down on his lap. His cock is half hard already. You reach for it, and he swats your hand away. You balk in confusion. “Ya ain’t done yet,” he tells you.
“What are you talking about?”
“Massage tax,” he says plainly, as if somehow you should have known that’s a thing and you roll your eyes, “It’s the law.”
“That is not a law.” 
“Is now,” he says, taking his cock into his hand. You watch him work himself, swiping his thumb over the blushed tip a couple of times before holding it tightly, restricting your access. 
“Joel,” you whine, “This isn’t– come on, man.”
“I know. I ain’t happy about it either,” he says, though his mischievous smile says differently, 
“Government’s just rife with corruption, ain’t it?”
You can’t say you didn’t have this coming. You’ve tormented Joel for months in a myriad of ways. You deserve this. 
“I don’t deserve this,” you tell him. 
“‘Course not,” he says softly, still holding his member tightly. You try to wriggle his fingers away, but he’s got an iron grip. You sigh in defeat, annoyed. Joel looks all too proud of himself.
“I hate you, Joel.”
“You wound me sweetheart, really. It hurts,” he inhales sharply through his teeth, extending an arm to you, “Hurts almost as much as my arm, you know that? S’been so sore, my hands an’ fingers too.” 
Yeah, yeah. You get the picture. 
Glaring at him, you watch him shimmy into the pillows and wiggle his arm at you again. You’ve still got some oil on your hands, so you don’t bother with the bottle on his nightstand. 
“Start up top,” he instructs you.
You move a little closer, taking his upper arm into your hands. You squeeze the muscles of his biceps and triceps, and as much as this is bothersome, it’s nice too. His muscles are strong, big, and firm. You’ve never really seen them until now. You admire the contours of his arm, the soft lines his muscles make. “And work your way down, down,” he says. And you follow, massaging his forearm. He sighs when you reach his hands, “S’my favorite part,” as you massage his palm, each knuckle of his digits. His hands are worn and calloused. 
You drop his hand once you feel like you’ve done enough, “Done.”  
“Really?” 
“Yep.” 
“Hm,” Joel hums before offering you his other arm, holding his cock now with his other hand, “I’ve got an entire arm you haven’t touched yet.” You stare at him with a blank expression. Joel pouts and acknowledges your disappointment by saying, “I know, hon. I’m so sorry.”
You roll your eyes, taking his other arm into your hands. “No, you aren’t.”
“Yeah, I’m not sorry,” he says, “Not one bit.”
And so again, you repeat the motions, first massaging his biceps and triceps. The hand that holds his cock rests between your thighs, and you begin grinding into it. Eyes shut, he raises one brow in amusement at your arousal. You’re soaked. 
Finally, he lets himself go. His cock springs free, rock hard with protruding veins, and you inch forward so that it sits between your thighs. 
As you massage his forearm now, you rock your hips slightly. Joel surely notices, though he doesn’t mind. You rock yourself quicker, chasing that sweet friction on your clit. Your hands are at his palm now, thumbs urgently rubbing circles into the flesh. You need to be done with this.  
“Slow it down,” he tells you, “S’not a race.”
You groan, but slow down anyway. You screw your eyes shut as you massage his palm sloppily, your focus now concentrated on what's happening between your thighs. Your pussy is slick as you roll your hips, grinding against his hard cock. That familiar coil in your gut is back. “Joel,” you cry, “My hands are sore.”
“Now you know how I feel,” he retorts, and you whine impatiently. “Ya never do any hard work in your life. C’mon, you’re almost done,” he taps your ass, “Lift up a little. I like watchin’ you get yourself all worked up on my cock.” 
As you work Joel’s hand, you lift yourself, hovering just inches above him. With his free hand, he takes his cock and drags himself through your dripping folds, collecting your slick on his tip. It feels good, your pussy is sensitive. He nudges his head against your clit, back and forth and periodically notches himself at your entrance, playing with you, achingly torturing you. “Joel,” you whine as he teases you, “My thighs are aching, hands too, ca— can’t do this anymore.”
“Sure ya can,” he coos. It feels like you’ve been massaging him for hours, way longer than he massaged you. This isn’t fair in the slightest, even with his back pain. 
Truth be told, the hand and arm massage stopped feeling good for Joel a long time ago. You’re aching and tired, and so are your hands, not giving him the proper pressure he needs.  But he’s taking advantage of this opportunity to tease you, drive you insane. He feels it’s warranted. 
And then finally, finally, he pulls his hand away from you. You’re done. 
You flop next to Joel and take his hand back in yours, guiding his fingers to your center. “Please,” you beg him, “Touch me. Do something.”
Joel clicks his tongue, “No can do.”
“What?”
“Yeah, think I just wanna rest now.” You stare at Joel, confused. He shrugs, “And I’m just parched. Need some water. And I’d go and get it, but I don’t want ya to yell at me again. I’m supposed to be resting, like you said.”
“You want me to get you water,” you confirm, annoyed. 
“And some ice, too,” he adds. 
Joel watches with a smirk on his face as you shove his hand away from your thigh and huff, then stomp out of his bedroom and all the way downstairs. After Joel hears the sound of running water and the slamming of cabinets, you return moments later with a glass of water and some ice wrapped in a towel. You mumble, “You can shove this ice right up–”
“Right up my ass, got it,” Joel takes the ice in one hand and the glass of water in his other. Joel drinks a sip of the water, then makes a disgusted face, “You gave me warm water? What is wrong with you?”
“You didn’t specify the temperature.” 
Joel rolls his eyes and sets both the ice and the water on his nightstand. “Fuckin’ psycho,” he mumbles. Even when he thinks he’s one step ahead of you in the never-ending quest to piss one another off, he’s not. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
You smile, “Thanks.”
Joel stares at you for a moment, admiring the mischievous grin on your face and that look in your eye. And then faster than you can blink, he takes your arm in his hand and pulls you back into bed as you giggle. You hear him laughing too, and then he’s situating himself above you. Hovering over you with one arm by your head, he takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks on them before bringing his hand between your thighs. 
You breathe a sigh of relief. You’re so sensitive and he’s finally fucking touching you, fingertips dragging through your slick folds, circling your clit before dipping one, then two fingers inside you. He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing tight circles into you. “Quit teasing,” you plead. 
Joel laughs breathlessly above you, “M’not teasin’—”
“More,” you interrupt him, “I need more.”
“You got it,” he says, then inserts a third finger. He curls them repeatedly inside you, your pussy gushing and soaking his fingers, making all sorts of wet, sticky noises. 
But it’s still not enough. You’re so fucking needy, so ready for Joel to just fuck you. You push his hand away and reach for his cock, wrapping your legs around him and using your feet on his ass to push him down closer to you.
“Ah, fuck,” Joel hisses when he feels your hand touch his member, “Hey, easy, sweetheart. Let’s slow it down.”
“Slow it down my ass,” you argue, “I want you now, Joel.”
“Now?” 
“Need you now,” you repeat, tilting your hips and bouncing your heels on his ass, “Now, now, now, now–”
Joel smiles at your desperation, at the way he’s managed to torture you. “Didn’t quite catch that, bad hearing and all that. You want me to fuck you when exactly?”, you cry in pure agony and Joel says, “Gotta mark my calendar, set my alarm clock...”
Your groans of frustration quickly turn into a soft sigh of pleasure as Joel takes you by surprise, pushing his cock inside you deeply, inch by inch, in one fluid motion. The stretch feels incredible and you’re so perfectly full of him. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close with one of your hands resting on his shoulder and the other tangled in the soft curls on his head. 
“Been needin’ this, huh?”, Joel asks as he settles inside you, letting you adjust to the stretch. 
You nod, your cheek brushing against his scratchy, salt and pepper facial hair. “You’re such an asshole,” you whisper, “You make me so mad.”
“Ditto, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he kisses your cheek. That’s become a regular thing, now. Always kissing your forehead, your cheeks. It always makes you blush. Joel pulls out of you nearly all the way before pushing back in. Over and over, building to a steady pace, and he makes soft grunts as he fucks you. 
You love how he cages you in, surrounds you, the low light of the candles dancing on his face as he fucks you passionately. And he’s watching you, big brown eyes full of something you can’t quite read. He pulls your hand from his hair and pins it next to your head, his fingers interlaced with your own. It’s sweet and it’s intimate, almost too intimate.
You can’t take this right now. Can’t deal with the way it feels, to be treated so specially by Joel. 
You untangle your fingers from his, and he watches you with a confused expression on his face. Reaching low, you slap his ass, “C’mon, fuck me harder. Use some elbow grease,” you mock his words from earlier, “Or does your old ass back hurt too much?” 
Joel stills and stares at you. You stare back, challenging him. “Why are you bein’ like this?” he asks, “Do y’always have to instigate?”
“Think I just heard your hip crack, too,” you tease, but it gets no reaction from Joel. 
“Quit while you’re ahead,” he warns, then composes himself before speaking again, “Have some faith. You trust me?” 
There’s something different about the way he’s looking at you, watching you. You’re apprehensive, but you nod anyway. 
“I said, we’re gonna slow it down this time,” he whispers, “Gonna go nice and slow.”
Joel pulls out of you then, and you groan in disappointment. He silences your displeasure with a quiet shhhh, then moves lower down your body. He runs his hands over your tummy, up your sides, tracing each and every curve. Kisses one hip bone, “I know I was teasin’ ya,” he says, “And I really put ya to work with that massage. That you offered t’do, mind you,” he adds as he kisses your other hip bone, “Really didn’t think that you were gonna get me ice and a glass of water. Wasn’t surprised when you told me to shove it up my ass, but I wasn’t expectin’ to drink warm water. Was a nice touch, trouble.” 
You begin to speak, but you stammer, struggling to find the right words. You squirm under his touch. He’s being so gentle, so sweet that he’s got you all flustered now. 
“Yeah, I know, sweet girl,” Joel mumbles against your skin. Pressing soft and wet kisses on your body, his fingers leisurely dragging through your dripping folds as he looks up at you, “I want you to know that I appreciate you. I appreciate all the ass backward things you do for me. I really do.”
“Joel, I–fuck,”, you moan. He’s pumping his fingers inside you again, now licking and kissing your nipples, swirling his tongue over the soft skin, worshiping every inch of your body.
“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head. Y’still drive me fuckin’ nuts.” You laugh breathlessly, voice caught in your throat as Joel kisses up your neck, up your jaw, your chin, and stopping just before your lips when he hears your breath hitch. He searches your eyes, sensing your apprehension. He knows the weight of the intimacy that kissing your lips holds, especially since it’s been put off so long.  He’s gonna kiss you. Just not yet. “Now can we try this again?”
When you whisper a quiet yes, he enters you for a second time, burying himself inside of you. He begins to fuck you again, slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of him, parts of him you don’t usually feel. His quiet breaths on your skin, the thick vein of his cock, his soft tummy, so warm against yours.  Usually he fucks you hard, fast. But today, he’s savoring you. You dig your heels into his ass, faster. It has to be faster.
“Don’t fight me on this,” he says, “We can just be nice, pretend you like me and I like you. Just this once. We don’t always have to argue.”
“Joel,” you whine, “Please. I can’t–I want–” 
“I know what you want, ya want what we’re used to. But s’not so bad, I promise,” he purrs above you, “Tell me– fuck, tell me how you feel.”
Exposed, but good. Really good. It’s new and unfamiliar, but so fucking good, but it feels like a crime to admit that. “Joel,” is all you can say, “Joel.”
“I know,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against yours, one hand on your waist holding you tight as he fucks you, “Doin’ so good for me.”
You still can’t bring yourself to say anything, don’t know how to respond to him. You’re at a loss for words, feeling him like this. How warm and protected and loved you feel. Your skin is on fire and you can’t help but close your eyes, retreating inward. But as different as this is, you don’t want him to stop, so you hold him tighter, pulling his face down to yours and burying yourself in his neck. 
Joel fucks you like that for a while. Just like that, with every thrust being intentional, feeling devastatingly good. You lose yourself in the feeling and Joel seemingly does as well. Words are left unspoken as he savors this moment with you. 
Hours could have passed, you wouldn’t know. Joel’s movements are becoming erratic, quicker. “Come with me,” he begs, resting his forearm above your head and moving the other to your center, as he paints tight circles around your clit, “I want you to come with me, sweetheart. Please.” 
It’s not long after that when that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach is back, fluttering and intense. “Oh, god,” you moan, “M’close.”
“That’s it, just let yourself go,” he breathes, “With me, now.” 
His words are all it takes. Your orgasm washes over you slowly, intensely. It’s powerful, the way lava flows from the earth, setting your skin ablaze. It’s overwhelming as Joel fucks you through it, chasing his own release. He makes broken moans and grunts as he comes with you, painting your insides with his hot seed. 
He pants on top of you, catching his breath before pulling out of you, not caring that you’re now dripping his spend onto his bed. He lays next to you, pulling you into his side with your legs tangled between his and your head resting on his shoulder. 
You’re crying, quietly. That’s never happened before. Joel feels your tears dripping down his skin, and he looks at you with concern.
“M’fine, Joel, I was just–It was just–”
Joel speaks to you soothingly, “I know, I know,” he whispers, “I’m right here.”
He just holds you like that, his fingertips trailing over your skin in lazy patterns. When he chuckles to himself, you look at him. “What?” you ask. 
“Warm water,” he says, amused, “You amaze me.”
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aesthetic-bbyg · 19 days
Note
HI I LOVE UR WORKS could I pls request like a mean dom ex bf Luke Castellan x fem reader who just canNOT get over him 🙏 it’s ok tho cuz we can get under him instead 😍 (smutty ofcccc)
DON’T STOP ~ L. CASTELLAN
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lowk based of this p link
ex!Luke Castellan x fem!reader
🎀🤍 - It’s been awkward around camp since you and Luke broke up, even worse since you miss him so much..
Oral!fem receiving , Luke being a meanie , teasing , rough&dom!Luke , squirting , sum fluff at the end
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EVEN THOUGH HE WAS YOUR EX, AND HE broke things of with you, you couldn’t help but stare at every chance you got. When he was practicing sword fighting with another camper, or when your gazes met at the picnic benches during breakfast.
And Luke hated this. It made his blood boil, those sweet looks you sent him. The innocent doe look as your round eyes widened each time he finally gave in and stared back. The few seconds he actually managed to make eye contact with you he saw that desire that he was all too familiar with swirl in your irises. Then again, it made him chuckle each time you turned away from his strong gaze, shyness overtaking you.
Yet, it made him cocky, knowing he still had that power over you despite breaking things off. It made him want to get closer and see just how much you blushed at his presence. He wanted to feel the way your body stiffened when he touched you, before eventually melting with each gentle caress. It was sick, how much pleasure it brought him to think about messing with you. But, he also couldn’t deny that he had his own desires that needed to be fulfilled. So it wasn’t all that twisted because part of that want for you was because of his own lust and not just his ego.
Even now, as Luke stares at you from across the field, his helmet adorning blue whilst yours red, he could sense that same desire seep from your body. He wanted to soothe that ache he knew pooled under those leggings you were wearing. He took the opportunity as he snuck through the trees like an animal, and saw you, guarding a red flag stuck into the dirt.
If you could even call it guarding. Your back was turned to him, picking at the flowers by your feet, you sat atop of a tree stump nearly dying of boredom. Your helmet and sword had been discarded and rest on the grass next to you. You gasped, feelings sharp tip dig into your back.
“You never learn.” A familiar voice that sent chills down your spine echoed into your ears. “How many times did I tell you, never get distracted.”
“Many times.” You replied, voice weak and small. You slowly turned your head, peeking at him over your shoulder. Your eyes holding that same doe eye look as you stared up at him innocently. He removed the faux sword from your back, squatting down to reach your height. “Luke.”
He took your chin between his fingers and thumb, staring intensely into your eyes. “You’re a stupid girl, y/n.” He leaned his so close that his lips nearly brushed over yours, “But so irresistible.”
You gulped down thickly, “Lu..”
“You’re not gonna be eating dinner tonight, you’re going to stay in your cabin.” Luke demanded, not even asking you, but stating it like it was a fact of the future.
“But—“ You stumbled over your words pathetically, breathing heavily against his pink lips that were so close and yet so far. “Luke.”
“It’s an order.” He stood up, tone cold and harsh as he ripped the flag from the ground and began walking away.
“Hey!” It was the loudest your feeble voice had been the whole interaction, your hands reaching for the sword by your side as he paused. “The whole point of the this game is to not let the opposing team win the flag.”
Luke let out a mocking laugh, turning around to look at your like you were dumb. “What, and you’re gonna fight me for it?”
You knew you didn’t stand a chance against the greatest swordsman of all of Camp Half-Blood, and yet you still allowed the words to slip your mouth. “Yes.”
He shook his head, tossing the flag aside. “Fine.” He readied his sword, pointing at you threateningly, “Have it your way.”
“Yeah.” You mumbled, mimicking his actions and sucking in a deep breath. You truly couldn’t go against Luke even if you put all your might into it. You were a fool for even instigating a dual, and that same proclamation ended in you on your stomach, cheek digging into the grass with your sword knocked across the field. Luke held both your wrist behind your back, knees on either side of your hips as his hard on pressed against your backside.
“You’re a stupid girl.” He repeated his mean words from earlier, this time so close to your ear that his breath tickled the side of your face. His grip on your was getting painful, but it felt numb as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your temple. “You’ll learn one day.”
He stood up, releasing you from his grip as he walked away, picking the flag up and disappearing into the trees. You’re team was going to give you so much shit for this.
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THIS IS STUPID, Luke Castellan was your ex. What type of control does he have that you had to listen to him? You’d been pacing around the empty cabin during dinner time for five minutes.
“Aren’t you gonna eat, sister?” One of your siblings asked before leaving, watching you with curiosity as you laid under the covers.
“Not tonight, I feel a little sick.” You lied, even mustering up a fake whine as you gripped your stomach. “Go ahead, I’ll be fine.” And within a few moments, she was gone, and you waited and waited, which left you to pacing. “Fuck this.” You stomped towards the door, deciding that you shouldn’t listen to him, because who was he? Ordering you to do what he wanted.
“Where are you going?” Luke asked smugly as his gaze met yours when you opened the door. “I told you to stay here.”
You stepped back slowly, “I was going to eat.” Your voice had become stronger, but that didn’t mean that your mind felt anymore confident when confronting the son of Hermes.
He shut the door, following each step you took backwards by stepping forward, his smirk very clear, even in the dark atmosphere. “But I told you not go, to wait for me here.”
“Well, I’m not gonna listen to everything you say, Luke.” You stopped, feeling your legs collided again the side of one of the bunk beds. It was yours, and you could tell by the curtains you had Luke nail onto the top for extra privacy. “You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”
He let out another chuckle, something about your words had entertained him so much that he’d revealed his pearly canines. But in a split second it dropped, he hurled at you, pushing you against the bed and pining your arms above your head. You’d be lying if you said that this didn’t soak your panties almost immediately.
“I tell you do things, baby, ‘cause you don’t know how to do them yourself.” Luke whispered into your neck, planting sweet kisses along it’s curve and your shoulder. Then he began sucking, leaving bruises behind and then soothing them by licking gently against the purple skin. “Did I really fuck you so dumb that you just can’t comprehend when someone tells what to do.”
You sigh at his touch, “Stop calling me stupid, Luke.”
He huffed out a laugh, trailing further down your chest kissing at the tops of your tits that spilled out the white tank top you had on. “It’s what you are, I mean, you can hardly form a sentence when I just so much as look at you.”
You whine, “I can speak for myself.” You said in a whisper, tugging at the grip he had on your wrist.
He lifted his head from it’s spot in the valley of your tits. “Then tell me,” He took one hand, still restraining you with the other, “what do you want.” You went silent, brain going foggy as he inched a warm hand under your tank top, under your bra. “I said, what do you want me to do, stupid girl.”
You whined, “Fuck, I want you to eat me out.” Your tone was meant to come out a lot more stronger then it actually did, it nearly sounded like you were pleading.
“Aww, look at my girl, finally learning a new thing.” He cooed, letting go of your wrist and lifting his head from your chest. He caressed your face, eyes lowering down to your lips and inching closer just like how he did in the forest earlier. “I really meant it when I said your irresistible, baby.” He whispered, kissing your cheek, purposely avoiding your lips. “I‘ve missed your taste.”
“Then why have you been a dickhead and ignoring me since we broke up.” You muttered, bringing your now free hands to wonder up and down his toned arms. “You could’ve had me if you wanted me.”
He chuckled, “Trust me, I’ve been doing anything but ignoring.” He squeezed your hip, finally dipping his head to kiss you desperately. It was a messy and hot kiss, full of desire, clashing teeth, and tongue. Your hands had lifted to cup his face, eyes pressed shut as you took in this long awaited make out. Nothing could describe the lust that emitted from the kiss alone, how heavy the both of you inhaled through your nose, refusing to part your mouths and breath.
But it eventually had to come, Luke grew impatient and hungry as he was the first to pull away, dragging your hips to the edge of the bed roughly. He fell to his knees in a heartbeat, pulling off your shorts in one swift move and shoving your panties the side. He then folded your legs just enough so your whole cunt was exposed and openly glistening in the little bit of light that illuminated the cabin.
He nearly came just at the sight of it, leaning down to begin his feverish licking and sucking on your folds. You let out a surprised moan, not expecting him to dive into your pussy like a starved man. Your hand flew to his dark curls, the other gripping the pretty pink sheets you already knew were going to be ruined by the time he was finished.
After all, dinner time was a whole hour and thirty, giving him plenty of time to enjoy his meal without stop. Luke flicked his tongue in and out your hole teasingly before moving to suck on your clit loudly. The noises were disgusting, a sloppy combination of slurping and high pitched moans. He lightly shook his head against you, digging his features into you, his grip on your thighs tightening each time you attempted to push them down.
“Fuck, Luke, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You moaned, legs trembling at the way he worked his tongue against you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You nearly screamed, your grip on his curls painful but he didn’t even mind it. He didn’t even flinch as you began to leak milky cum from your cunt, he just continued to lick at your sensitive bud. You did everything in your power to try and get him away, pushing at his shoulders, gripping his arms, shoving away his face, letting out choked whines of surrender. “I can’t—“ Each feeble attempt in getting your point across was interrupted by your own moans and squeaks as he brushed over your overstimulated clit.
You’re pussy was probably a mess of spit, cum, and arousal mixing together, yet something about that was so addictive to Luke. It wasn’t like he didn’t hear your pleas, or that he was ignoring them, he truly couldn’t pull away. He was letting animalistic groans each times he swiped his tongue onto your pussy, letting the wetness fill his taste buds.
He couldn’t help it when he just pushed your legs closer to your chest whenever you squirmed and attempted to push the closed. He heard you whines and it only fed his own pleasure, his licks became quicker, more messy if that was even possible. He was out of breath and heaving, yet didn’t pull back for a second, he just kept stuffing his face back into your cunt. He noted the way you nearly screamed whenever he fucked his tongue into and rolled with it, repeating the motion as his nose stimulated your clit.
With that you were letting out the most pornographic moans he’d ever heard come from you. Your attempts to shove him away for noticeably more frantic and aggressive, you’re whines, despite being almost unintelligible, begged for him to stop. There was a overwhelmingly tight coil in your stomach that just felt different compared to your last orgasm, it went from your stomach and moved down in waves. Before you could let another push to his shoulder you threw your head back and gripped the sheets desperately. You heard a gentle squelch, very faint but it made your eyes widen in horror as you sat up at stared down at Luke.
He finally pulled away, wiping away at the wetness that dropped down his chin and onto his neck. He fell back on his knees, a drowsy smirk on his lips and heavy eyelids that stared back at you. You squirted, and all over his face at that. “Fuck.” Was all he could mutter, biting his lower lip as he stared at you. “That was..so fuckin’ hot, baby.”
You blushed, hiding your face in your hands as you groaned. “I made a mess.”
He leaned up, removing your hands and lightly pecking your lips. “A beautiful mess, baby.” He whispered, “I bet I can make it happen again.”
“No!” You squeezed your legs shut, shoving his shoulder as he laughed, gently caressing your thigh. “Dinner is almost over and you need to leave before anyone notices you were here in the first place.”
“I don’t care if they see me, they probably already heard you.” He stood up, making you notice the painful bulge that outline the cargo shorts he had on.
“Oh, fuck, Luke.” You whispered. He didn’t have to ask what you were referring to with your pitiful tone as you stared at his hardened dick without shame.
“Don’t worry about.” He reassured, digging into his pocket to pull out a picture. “I’ve got you to help me out later in the night.” With closer examination, you noticed that it was an old photo that he’d taken months before the breakup. You laid down on a bed, shirt lifted just enough to show your tits, legs spread open with a cock shoved in your cunt.
“You’re dirty.” You slapped his leg, but a sheepish smile betrayed any ounce of annoyance you were trying to display. You leaned down to grab your shorts, but before you put them back on you paused. You looked up at Luke, who wasn’t paying attention as he slipped the photo back into his side pocket, and then at your lap. You stood up and slipped out of your panties, balling them up and offering it to Luke like a present. “You can have ‘em, they’re ruined because of you anyway and it could be useful for helping you later.”
Luke let out a chuckle, not even blinking as he took them and shoved them into his pocket. “Thank you.” He took your waist, his hand trailing down to the plush cheeks of your ass and squeezing the flesh. He leaned into close of the night with a another hungry kiss, except he replaced the painful lust with love and devotion. He regretted ever letting you escape his arms, and knew that he wouldn’t do it again, no matter what. He kneeled down, picking up the shorts he’d discarded and lightly kiss your thigh, you stepped into them, watching with admiration as he dragged them back up.
“I love you.” You weren’t sure if maybe it was too soon to confidently say the words once more but part of you didn’t care.
Luke didn’t know either, but he definitely knew in his whole heart that he didn’t give a fuck. “I love you too.” You walked to the cabin door, feeling a pool of dread as he opened it and slowly let go of your hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nodded, giving him a smile before he was gone, the door shutting completely with a quiet click.
“Hey, Luke, where were ya?” You heard a fellow camper call out just moments after Luke’s exit. “Didn’t get some dinner before bed?”
“Nah, man, don’t worry.” Luke shrugged it off, he voice getting more faint the farther he went, but you definitely heard him say: “I already ate.”
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Natti speaks !!: I actually ended up liking this way more than I thought so a big thank u to the person who sent this request in🫶🏼🫶🏼 Luke Castellan is js to fine and he needs to be stopped.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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Hi! I absolutely love your page and all of your poly!marauders writing! Could I request a poly!marauders where they’re all flirting with r (like pre relationship) and because she’s never really been noticed/flirted with before she thinks they’re kind of making fun of her like it’s a big joke. Then of course she finds out that’s not the case
Thanks for requesting babe, and thanks for reading! I had no idea how long this had become until I checked the wordcount just now haha, and I feel like it got a bit awkward in some places but I hope you enjoy it :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k
As Friday nights go, this one is pretty typical. You’d arrived at the party with all of your friends, and one by one, they’d been pulled away by significant others, flirty strangers, or potential hookups. Now it’s just you, sitting on the couch and trying not to look awkward as the couple on the opposite end endeavors to swallow each other whole. 
“Hey there, gorgeous,” a familiar voice drawls, and Sirius Black sits down next to you. “Having a good time?”
You force a smile, not wanting to insult the party most likely being thrown by Gryffindor’s golden boys. “Yup.” 
“Doesn’t look like it,” he says, not unsympathetically, then nudges the curled-up form behind him. “Moony, you were really going to let this pretty thing sit here all by herself without speaking to her?”
The book they’re holding lowers, revealing Remus Lupin. His eyes start to roll as if it’s an automatic response to Sirius’ interruption, but then they fall on you. “Oh.” He blinks. “Sorry, love, I didn’t see you there.” 
You flush, sheepish and a bit resentful of being party to Sirius’ reprimand, however teasing it might be. You know Remus from the couple of classes you’ve had together, but you wouldn’t expect him to talk to you outside of those contexts. Speaking to someone that’s obligated is so much worse than speaking to no one at all. “It’s fine,” you say quietly, feeling unbearably awkward. 
“See? She’s too sweet to even hold you accountable for it,” Sirius tuts, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about him, dollface. Can I get you a drink?”
“I, um...” You look down at your empty cup, long since drained. “Sure, thanks.” 
He winks. “Be right back.” 
You expect Remus to go back to his book as Sirius struts off, but he folds the corner of his page, setting it down. 
“I really didn’t mean to ignore you,” he says, looking painfully apologetic. “How are your classes this year?”
You give him your most reassuring smile. “They’re good, thanks. And I didn’t think you were ignoring me.” You cringe. “Sorry Sirius made you put away your book on my account.” 
He looks at you with amber eyes full of kindness. “I don’t mind.” 
It’s a conscious effort to quell the ruckus in your stomach. You’d harbored a tiny, secret crush on Remus when you’d had classes together last year, and this is exactly why. He just seemed like such a sweetheart. Soft-spoken but brilliant, he never raised his hand to answer questions but always scored high on assignments, and you’d once caught him feeding answers to the girl next to him so she could win points for her house. You’d become enthralled with the way his smile would tug gently at the scars on his face, making them glint silver in the light that shone through the classroom windows, and how his eyes sparked with quiet amusement even when he wasn’t laughing.
The silence between you is stretching too long. You fumble for something to continue the conversation. “I like your sweater,” you say dumbly. 
“Yeah?” He smiles, scars flashing. “Thanks, lovely.” He lets his gaze roam over you for a moment, and you try not to squirm. “Do you want it? It’s a bit cold in here.” 
You look down, surprised to discover goose bumps covering your arms. “That’s alright,” you say, but Remus is already shrugging off his sweater, revealing the plain t-shirt underneath. “Remus, really, I’m fine.” 
“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, holding the sweater out to you and raising his eyebrows when you won’t take it. “If you don’t put it on, then neither of us will have it.” 
You watch him for a moment, but Remus doesn’t waver. You take it, giving him a look that you hope conveys both admonishment and apology. “Thank you.” 
“No problem,” he replies as you shrug it on. “Considering that this is a school of magic, it does a pretty poor job of regulating its temperature during the winter, don’t you think? Couldn’t let you just sit here and freeze, sweetheart. Sirius would kill me when he got back.” 
You pull Remus’ sleeves over your cold fingers, using the movement to avoid eye contact as your face heats. The way he’s talking to you, the pet names, it’s all so strange. You don’t get it. 
“Not to be rude,” Remus says before you can go deeper into your musings, “but I thought I saw you come in with a bunch of other girls. Where’d they all go?”
Ah. He’s talking to you because he likes one of your friends. “Oh.” You wave your hand about vaguely. “Here and there, pulled aside by various prospects. I’m sure you can find some of them if you go looking.” 
“But they left you by yourself?” He seems to disregard your friends’ whereabouts, his eyebrows coming together just a bit. “That’s not very nice. Lucky for us, though, I suppose.” 
You tilt your head, not quite sure what he means, but then Sirius returns, James Potter in tow. 
“Told you,” Sirius says as he passes you your drink, hand lingering on yours a second too long. James gives one to Remus. “She’s miserable.” 
“Can’t have that,” James replies agreeably, looking for somewhere to sit. His eyes fall on the couple behind you and he leans close to your ear. “Merlin, they’re really going at it, aren’t they?”
You laugh, and he grins at you like that was his aim all along. Meanwhile, Sirius has devised a solution to the problem of seating, making himself comfortable almost entirely in Remus’ lap. He gestures for you to come closer. You comply tentatively, scooting a couple feet towards the two of them. 
“Don’t be shy.” Sirius reaches out and grips your waist, hauling you closer until you’re pressed up against Remus’ leg and Sirius’ side, his arm remaining snugly around your waist. “We don’t bite. Unless you’re into that, of course.” 
“Pads.” Remus’ voice is stern, softened for your benefit. “Take it easy.” 
“Oh, come on,” Sirius scoffs. “I saw you putting the moves on her from over by the punch. You don’t get to have all the fun.” 
Putting the moves on you? Sirius almost makes it sound like Remus had been…flirting. Oh. You suppose maybe he had. But intentionally? Really? Sirius Black will flirt with anything, but Remus is a different story.
It must be a part of some bit they’re all doing, you realize. They are pranksters. Sirius was probably bored and in need of entertainment, and there you were, sitting all by yourself. Practically begging to be the object of his amusement. And then he’d enlisted Remus to go along with it. They’re probably all going to go back to their dorm tonight and laugh about how easily you’d fallen for it. Your face burns.
James has settled into the ample space you’ve made on the couch, allowing you a bit more room that Sirius seems willing to. “You alright, lovely? I’m sorry you haven’t been having a very good time.”
You look at him, finding nothing but sincerity in his warm brown eyes. You don’t suppose he would have been able to get away with so much if he weren’t a good actor. The last thing you’re going to do is give them more to laugh about by making a scene. “No, I’m fine. It’s a good party.” 
“Yeah?” James cocks his head like a puppy. “Well, that’s good, I guess. How’d you end up by yourself though, sweetheart?”
Remus answers for you. “Her friends left her.” 
“They’ll come back eventually,” you say hastily, then realize how pathetic that sounds. It’s all you can do not to shrink in on yourself. 
“I’m sure they are,” James says, and try as you might, you can detect no sarcasm in his tone, “but it’s still not a very considerate thing for friends to do. You seem like excellent company.” 
You scoff, taking a long sip of your drink. “Apparently not.” 
��You are,” Sirius says casually, looking at you over the rim of his cup. “I mean, I’ve only been around you for a little while, but it’s been a delightful experience for me. And Moony seems to like talking to you. That’s high praise.” 
Remus elbows Sirius but gives you one of his soft, kind looks, and it’s too much. It’s all too much. You feel like you’re being eaten alive by shame at how much you’re enjoying their attention, even if it’s all for show. 
“I have an idea,” James says, knee bumping into yours amicably. “We were going to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow to study. Would you come with? We could grab lunch together and convince you of how pleasant you are to have around.” 
You scoff. This charade has gone too far. “Yeah, right. What time should I meet you, at nine in the great hall, where everyone will be watching?” 
Who gets off on this anyway? Flirting is one thing, but all this faux kindness, just to humiliate you? It’s a cruelness beyond what you thought them capable of. 
James hesitates at your tone. “Um, yeah. Nine is good, if that works for you.”
You shake your head, crossing your arms. Sirius gets the message, removing his hand from around your waist. “This isn’t funny.” 
“It’s not supposed to be.” James looks wounded, and Remus leans forward, a concerned set to his brows. “Hey, what’s going through your head?” he asks, all concerned tenderness. 
You look between them, angry and, if you’re being honest with yourself, very hurt. “This is a prank, right? Because I was sitting alone and you were bored? Well, I don’t think it’s funny.” 
“Darling,” Remus breathes, reaching out as if to touch you but hesitating with his hand hovering just above your shoulder, “no one’s pranking you.”
Sirius shakes his head. “That’s not…we would never do something like that, and I’m sorry you think we would. Let me be clear: we want to go on a date with you tomorrow. Obviously you don’t have to, but we’d love it if you came.” 
You feel your eyebrows scrunch up, trying to right your worldview. You feel like you have whiplash. “Wait, are you serious?”
He grins, and it’s half sheepish, half wolfish. “That’s me.” 
You giggle a bit at that, and Remus works up the courage to let his hand land on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “No jokes or catches, lovely girl. I promise.” 
You send him a small smile before turning to James, who still looks like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. “I’m really sorry I accused you guys of that,” you say, guilt replacing shame at the feast of your insides. “I just…I’ve never had someone…notice me in that way before. I thought it was a joke.” 
James’ smile still bears some leftover unease, but there’s no reproach in it. “That’s alright, angel,” he says, earnest as he had been all along. “I’m sorry you thought we didn’t mean it. Let us prove it, yeah? Tomorrow?”
You beam at him, a frisson of excitement going through you. “Yeah, tomorrow.”
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yesimwriting · 1 year
Text
Pulling Away
A/n did i write smut for once? yeah. also timeline wise is this perfectly accurate? it’s iffy,, but this fic isn’t about the plot too much so it’s okay
Summary: You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 
warnings: 18+, implied age gap, no condom, a tiny bit manipulative if you squint, brief mention of losing virginity.
----
He’s not a force of nature, no matter how hard he might pretend to be for the sake of those around him. Joel can’t actually change anything. So the shift in temperature you feel as Joel stills has to be a byproduct of what’s in your head. 
The kind of burning cold that better fits a fever runs through you and you hate yourself for it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been delusional when it comes to him. 
You’re working off of a quarter of his face against low lighting. It doesn’t make sense for you to be able to feel so much from the little of him that you can see. It’s not anger. Or at least, not just that. There’s definitely a subdued rage radiating from him, but it’s undercut by something that punches you straight in the gut. 
Maybe you’re being a little unfair, but you have a right to it at this point. You can’t follow him around blindly like some kind of puppy forever. Especially now that you’re both settled enough to be able to think of things outside of pure survival.
“Ellie’s asleep.” A flat observation that you can’t explain. Maybe it’s the need to break the silence, or maybe it’s a genuine attempt at making things feel normal. You two should still be able to talk. You never wanted that to end. “Swore she wasn’t tired, but passed out as soon as her head touched the mattress.” 
Joel lets out a small sound from the back of his throat. It’s a spike in the atmosphere. “Think I’m gonna go to bed, too.” You don’t understand your awkwardness or the urge to create distance. It’s not like Joel would hurt you, but then again, the buzz of adrenaline doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of fear. It’s an uneasy burning that worsens when you raise your eyes enough to meet his. “Night.” 
The one word is a little better and somehow so much worse. Not aggressive or trying to make things better. It’s just there. Civil. 
When he says nothing, you take it as your sign to call it a night. Tomorrow could be better. Sure, your rocky dynamic might be going through growing pains while you set boundaries that should have been established long ago, but you’ll likely survive this. You’re all staying together in the same house in Jackson for the time being and you both care too much about Ellie to separate over something small. 
Even if Joel won’t directly admit to it, the part of your relationship that feels like co-parenting is sacred. That’s part of the reason why the feelings you’ve been fighting with yourself to dismantle are so complicated. He cares about Ellie more than he wants to admit and the last thing you need right now is to tear away the little stability she’s finally been given. Not over a few awkward conversations and stiff moments. 
The weird irony that vaguely reflects the issues of the world before isn’t lost on you. If someone were to squint at the situation, you’d seem like a wife trapped in a marriage for the sake of her children. Maybe if it was happening to someone else you’d have enough energy to find it funny. 
You turn carefully, like a too loud squeak of your shoes could be what snaps the thinning thread tying you two to a hint of casualness. You don’t need to pass him to get to where you’re sleeping. The three of you had been set up in a space that allowed for each person to have their own room. It’s like that in theory, but in practice it’s more like Ellie’s room, Joel’s room, and the spare. 
A comfortable enough bedroom that you’ve maybe spent the entire night alone in twice in the weeks you’ve been here. You can’t even pretend that you keep the few things you own in there either. Joel’s an even lighter traveler than you, so slowly your items made their way into the drawers in his room. Now, your room is basically just where you go to change into and out of sleepwear.
You’ll get used to it, used to the draft that originally led to you giving up on rocky sleep the first night you ended up sleeping next to Joel. Your dreams kept you up even more than the cold, but when Joel’s drowsy voice called out to you in the dark, asking why you were awake, you blamed the night’s chill. That’s how it first happened. 
It was a mistake you should have never let turn into habit. You’re correcting it now. Setting boundaries to prevent heartbreak. It’s only a matter of time considering the way the women here look at him.
“Since when do you sleep in there?”
His voice is so gruff it instinctually freezes you. Any sarcastic comment at the back of your throat vanishes immediately. The both of you are fully aware of how you end up each night, but it’s a boundary in itself not to mention it. You’re not sure if it’s more him or you, but what happens at night and early in the morning is never mentioned.
It’s a dip into another reality. A space where Joel’s a little lighter, almost more open. Sometimes he’ll drag your arm with him when he moves onto his side, a silent way of asking you to stay close. On the best nights, he’ll joke about it, letting your limbs meld together under a blanket and swear he’s just trying to keep you warm out of the kindness of his heart. 
His humor is the worst. The kind that some might justify as a result of years of it being at a stalemate for years considering the tragic state of the world, but you know better. They’re the kind of jokes that take a second to settle because of his general exterior, but are meant to be so dumb they force out a smile. In another life, the little comments are dad jokes.
The peace bleeds into the mornings now, he’ll keep the closeness and remind you that you don’t have to get up immediately by mumbling something about Ellie still being asleep. Like she’s the only thing significant enough to get you two to return to reality. 
You’re convinced that these moments exist because neither of you mention them. He’s crossing a line you didn’t realize meant so much to you and he’s being dramatic it, too. It’s not the rarest thing for you to ‘attempt’ to sleep in your own bed. Sure, you’re more likely to lay in that room for a few hours on nights where Ellie stays up a little later, but this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve done. 
He’s ripping any chance of returning to that separate world away from you. It stings more than it should. “Thought I’d give it a try,” you voice is too low, too defensive, “It’s not a big deal.” 
The defense sounds so weak in your own ears, you don’t even want to imagine what he took from it. “Bullshit.”
His voice comes out in such a low huff you feel it more than hear it. If the sound had felt any less dangerous, you would have pretended to mistake it for another wordless grunt. Your lips part slowly as your mind struggles to create any kind of logical response. 
Pretending is clearly getting you nowhere. The only reason you ever pretended it would was pure delusion. Joel has always been able to see through you, through any shift in mood. Even when your lies are better, his ability to sense them is uncanny. 
He turns with no warning. Joel crosses the space between you before you can even fully register his steps. Your body tenses as heat rushes to your face in result of an oddly charged parody of fight or flight. You almost step back, one heel shifting back, but then you meet his gaze and the determined glint behind his eye is enough to melt you into place. 
There’s something else there, too. A focus that pins you into place even further. Holds you there better than the barrel of a pistol could. 
The absurdity of the warmth rooted in your chest should be enough to make the feeling go away. It doesn’t, so you force your lips to part again. You need to say something. Anything. “Joel?” Not that. Not just his name in a voice that feels violently small. 
“You’re pullin’ away.” 
The accusation in his voice leaves no room for argument. You try anyways, “No.” The rest of your thoughts can’t come out while you’re looking at him at the same time. There’s shame in dropping your gaze to focus on your shoes and the little space between you. “It’s not like that.” 
Joel lets out a low sound. The creak of the floor as he steps forward again snaps you out of your trance. You step back in a desperate attempt to keep the space between the two of you equal. Your back hits the wall before you can come close to achieving your goal. It’s a knee jerk reaction that leaves your face feeling even warmer than before. A part of you expects Joel to laugh at the sound or at least comment on it. He doesn’t. He continues forward until his mouth is so close to your ear the warmth of his breath lingers when he exhales. 
He takes a second there, relishing in your stillness. “Don’t lie to me.” Joel pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. “You don’t want to talk to me, you’re talkin’ about leavin’.” The southern drawl of his voice is increasing with his frustration. It’s distracting in a way that feels too convenient. Like he’s doing this on purpose. 
You swallow once. “You found your brother. I have a sister out there, I’d--I think now that things are more settled with Ellie it wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to look for her.” 
“And you don’t want us goin’ with you, but you’re more than willing to let the guy that’s always lookin’ at you--” 
“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” You are insane. Of course his issue is who mentioned it. John knows travel, leaves Jackson and comes back in one piece when he needs to. He wouldn’t be the worst person to have with you if you did want to start a rudimentary search for your sister. “I didn’t make any plans with John, it just came up.” 
“You don’t want us goin’ with you.” 
Your throat feels dry. The thought of it makes you feel cold. You haven’t seen your sister in a few years and so much has changed. You’re no longer in the QZ and your sister has no way of knowing that. She can’t reach out if there’s trouble or good news and she has no reason to assume that you’re safe. You know where she lives, and if she’s not there, you know a few of her usual spots. She doesn’t typically stray too far from her bubble. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just long enough. 
Long enough to give you some space. Long enough to remember what it’s like to not be around Joel all the time. Long enough to feel less about him. 
And you’d come back. You wouldn’t just walk out of his life and Ellie’s forever. The little bit of space you’re trying to get would make it easier for you to stick around in the long run because it’s the only way you can think to get rid of the feelings that are trying to ruin everything. 
“We haven’t been here that long and Ellie’s finally starting to feel settled. I don’t want to drag her out of that yet and make her feel like her entire life is just going to be her being dragged around the country.” 
Your words are a jumble, rushed together in a way that makes the honesty of them less effective. It’s a good point. Ellie just called her room hers the other day and even asked about moving the bed against a different wall.
Joel lets out a low breath, eyes hardening. “You’re right. She’s settlin’ and she needs you.” He knows he’s hit his mark when you don’t respond. “How do you think she’s gonna take the news that you’re leaving?” 
“Leaving to visit my sister.” You struggle to swallow. “Temporarily. It’ll take less than two weeks.” 
His lips pull into a frown as his eyebrows together. Moody and brooding. The look you’ve openly referred to as his old man scowl. “With John.” 
Ugh. This again. Why does it matter? Yes, John will be there, but it’s not like it’s just you and John. Your sister isn’t that far and she has access to supplies that aren’t common, she has an understanding with people that have easy access to medical supplies. 
But even if it was just you and John, it doesn’t matter. There are a lot of areas in which you factor in Joel’s opinion, but this is definitely not one of them. You two aren’t together and with the way he does nothing to show any discontent when the girls here start to look at him, he definitely doesn’t need you keeping his bed warm at night. 
“If I go, he wouldn’t be the only one there.” The fact that you’re trying to justify John’s presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re a grown woman, free to associate with whoever you want. You might jokingly call him your old man from time to time, but he has no right. “And if even if he was, what does it matter?” 
His jaw locks and the downwards tilt of his chin erases the little bit of confidence you’ve managed to build. “You’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”
You have to bite your tongue to avoid from blurting out that he’s also seen the way majority of the women you see on a daily basis look at him. Joel’s also exaggerating. John does not have any feelings for you, and if he did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like you see John as anything more than a friend. But even if you did--it is not his business. At all. 
“He doesn’t.” There’s little point in saying that, Joel’s not one to have his mind so easily swayed and he’s been wary of John since the beginning. Sometimes it even feels like the more you insist that he’s a good friend, the more Joel seems to dislike him. “And if he did, it doesn’t matter.” 
Your words feel like a retreat they shouldn’t need to be. Small, the meaning of the sentence compacted and straining against the limited syllables. A part of you expects Joel to understand what you do mean. That it doesn’t matter because it takes two interested parties to form any kind of relationship. That your mind isn’t even there in terms of feeling safe...that the only person who has ever made you feel safe enough to imagine anything beyond friendship is right in front of you. 
For the first time, Joel doesn’t pick up on the relevance of what isn’t said. You can feel his lack of understanding in the way he moves, placing one hand on the wall, near your head. You blink, trying in vain to explain the motion, explain his proximity. He’s caging you in. 
The heat of his body is practically inescapable, amplified by the way he smells. Joel showered a little earlier, his natural scent combining pleasantly with that of plain soap. After so many nights next to him, you would think you would have developed a tolerance. You haven’t. And even if you did, you doubt it’d matter...this is different. Dizzying. 
“Doesn’t matter?” 
He’s somehow even closer and somehow not touching you. The realization that that’s the worst part of this leaves your stomach fluttering. You need the feeling gone, so you force out the first words that come to mind, “It matters as much as all the girls that look at you like that.” 
It feels more bitter than it comes out, leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. You need out. You need space. You need sleep. Joel’s silence feels like opportunity, so as subtly as you can you try to shift away from the wall. Your back is off the wall for less than a second before you’re pushed back against it. 
Your body hits the wall before you can realize that Joel’s hand is on your hip. There’s too much surprise for that fact to settle, so you look up at him almost bewildered. You expect him to let go or at least look somewhat apologetic. He does the opposite, moving the hand on the wall under your jaw and closing the distance between you in a motion so quick you can barely register it. 
His mouth is on yours before your mind can catch up. It makes no difference to him. He’s rabid in his patience, taking what he wants without forcing your lips to part. His hand squeezes your hip and all at once it connects. You gasp and Joel pins you to the wall even more securely, deepening the kiss with an expert’s ease. 
It lasts until you can’t breathe and ends with his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. “All of this,” the words are exhaled lowly, “’Cause you’re jealous.” 
The kiss left you so light headed your first instinct is to just agree. To not think and do or say whatever you need to in order to get him that close again. But his tone is too sure, too teasing, and the implication isn’t something he can just get away with. “Jealous?” His smugness is hard to take with him holding you against the wall like this. It’s too vulnerable, like this might be some kind of game to him. It makes you feel transparent. Hollow. “Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.” 
It’s like you’ve said nothing until Joel has the audacity to squeeze your hip. “Whoever I want?” His hand shifts up your hip, your shirt moving with him. “Hm.” His hum settles beneath your skin, effectively silencing you as his eyes take their time raking over your face and down your body. “Those were some big words from you.” 
Heat rushes to your face. It’s ridiculous--you curse more than that on a regular basis. He’s playing into context, too aware of what he’s doing. The urge to push burns twice as hard as buzzing in your chest. “They’re true. We’re not--we’re not anything, so if I want to go with--” 
“I’m not losin’ you.” There’s a desperation in there that comes out so hard it circles back to vulnerable. “You wanna go see your sister, we go see your sister. That’s how we got through everything else.” The hand on your hip moves down, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your shorts. You hate yourself a little for the way your breath audibly catches. “Understand?” 
His hand lowers even further, long fingers pressing against the fabric of your underwear. You’re not breathing right and you can’t bring yourself to care. The only thing you can think of is closer. “Y-yes.” 
“’Yes’ what?” No sympathy in his voice or anything that would give away that he has a hand shoed down your pants. 
His touch picks up pace, rubbing against you until a whimper escapes your lips. “Yes, sir.”
Joel moves his hand away with no warning. The whine that escapes your lips doesn’t feel like your own. He’s barely touched you and you’re already like this. “Barely touched you and you’re already listening.” He hooks two fingers in between the band of your underwear. “Should’ve done this awhile again, then.” 
You’re burning all over, the only thing you can manage is a quick, “Shut up.” It lacks any bite. 
He pulls at the band of our underwear, letting it snap back into place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d consider the flash of something softer across his face as amusement. “If you want me to stop, you’ve gotta tell me.” 
Your nod feels desperate. Your entire body feels desperate. For the way he kissed you, the way he touched you. “I-I’ll tell you.” He’s still not moving, not doing anything. It’s some sort of punishment. It has to be. “Joel...” 
“You going to say ‘please’?” 
You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then his fingers hook around your underwear again. A promise. “Please, Joel.” This is all unfamiliar but you trust Joel to get what you want, what you need. “Need you.” 
With no warning, he yanks down your shorts and underwear. They fall down your legs and you blindly kick them to the side. “Need me?” He tilts his head down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek, then two to your jaw. “Need me where, sweetheart?” 
God. Anywhere. Everywhere. Your desperation reminds you of how incredibly unfair it is that you’re already down to just our t-shirt and Joel’s still fully dressed. You move your hand slowly, carefully tugging at whatever piece of clothing on him you can reach. 
He’s unimpressed. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” His hand is in between your thighs, his fingers teasing at your entrance in a way that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. “You were usin’ them just fine a second ago.” 
“Joel,” he kisses your jaw again, forcing away all train of thought. It has to be intentional. “Joel,” again, too soft. 
“I know,” he exhales the words against your neck, “I know, sweetheart. Need me to take care of you.” Joel doesn’t wait for a reaction, just pushes his fingers fully into you. You gasp too loudly, Joel moves his free hand over your mouth. “Be a good girl and be quiet. Can’t wake up Ellie.” 
Shit. How did you not think of that? “You’ll be good and quiet for me? Let me stretch you out a bit first?” There’s a knot in your stomach that’s slowly taking over all of your senses. As long as Joel keeps working at it, you could promise him anything. You nod against the palm of his hand. 
You bite your tongue to keep from whimpering too loudly. “Need you to relax,” he presses into you even more firmly, “Get you ready for me.” 
He slowly eases his hand off of your face. “Joel, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you just know you need more. You want him to consume you entirely. Feel him until he’s all there is.
You hear the sound of a belt buckle and his jeans shifting. Instinctually, you move a hand towards him, wanting to help, wanting to feel him. “There’ll be time for that, right now it’s about you.” You’re about to argue when he skillfully adds another finger. Fuck. “You’re tight,” he breathes, “No one’s ever touched you here?” 
His fingers curl inside of you and you have to burry your face into the fabric of his shirt to keep from crying out. “Only you.” 
“Look who’s found her manners.” He’s picking up the pace and smoothing down your hair as you squirm against him. “Should’ve done this sooner.” Just as the coil in your lower stomach tightens, Joel takes his hand back. 
You push yourself off of him, staring at him with an expression you know he’ll consider pouting. “Why’d you--” 
“Because I want you to remember this.” He pushes you back to the wall, pressing his body against you. The head of his cock brushes against your entrance. With no warning, he pushes into you. Your sharp gasp overlaps with Joel’s low groan. “Y’need a man to fuck the attitude out of you.” He moves slowly, the friction unbelievably overwhelming and somehow not enough. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with you.” 
Joel presses you further into the wall, sinking into you as deep as possible before pulling out just to sink back in. His pace is even until his breathing picks up. You’re a mess against him, hiding your face in his chest when he starts fucking you with full force.
“You’re squeezing me so good.” Joel practically pants the words into your skin. “Fuck, ‘m going to--you gonna finish with me, sweetheart?” 
Your mind is mush, you can barely nod against him as his thrusts start to lose their focus. You’re pushed over the edge as Joel’s teeth graze against your neck. He pulls at your orgasm, dragging it along until your legs are jelly and he’s pulling out in order to not finish inside you. 
The two of you stay holding onto each other for what feels like a long time and not enough. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, okay?”
You pull your head off of him enough to look him in the eye. “Not without you.” 
He smiles, lines that you can imagine kissing forever etching themselves into his skin. “That’s my girl.” Joel runs a hand up and down your back fondly. “Let’s go to bed,” he presses a kiss against your jaw, “Give me the space to properly appreciate you.”
The thought makes your body burn all over again. “You sure you aren’t tired out, old man?” 
Joel huffs out what’s almost a laugh, “We’ll see who’s tiring who out, sweetheart.” 
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axelsagewrites · 2 months
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Felix Catton*Period Pains
Pairing: Felix Catton x afab! reader
Word count: 1322
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Warnings: periods, period pain, mentions of drinking, pure fluff
Masterlist Here
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There were few things worse than waking up at 7am for a lecture, rolling out of bed and seeing the blood stain on the sheets. The brief relief of getting your period was quickly swept away when the first cramp hit. You managed to get through your classes with a few pills and the promise of your hot water bottle in your dorm.
During your lecture you felt your phone buzz and sneaked a glance only to see Felix had messaged the group chat with plans to go out for the night. You weren’t exactly sure how you managed to join his and Farleigh’s drinking gang, but you were always down to have a pint with them at the end of a long day.
But today even just reading the text made you tired. Instead of replying you slipped your phone back into your pocket and tried your best not to fall out your seat and writhe in pain.
-
You’d seen in the chats they’d planned on meeting at seven. When the time ticked around and your friends were all out downing their first drinks you were laying in bed instead with 2 hot water bottles, a jumbo bar of chocolate. At 7. 15 your phone buzzed again with a text from Felix.
Felix – You running late?
You – sorry I can’t make it. I don’t feel great
You really thought that was that and unpaused mean girls so you could see who had been personally victimised by Regina George. However just as Regina got hit by the bus there was a knock on your door.
You shut your laptop and paused for a second to see if they’d walk away but another knock came, and you were forced to drag yourself out of bed with a loud groan. “What-oh” you paused as you opened the door to a concerned looking Felix, “Hi? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I was just worried about you. You never miss a night out, so I thought I’d come check on you. I’m sorry I can go if this is weird,” he said, his voice trailing off with a flush growing on his cheeks.
You’d never seen Felix nervous before, but it was an oddly cute sight. “No don’t be sorry. Its sweet really,”
“You don’t look sick,” he said, and it was at that moment you actually remembered how you looked.
Yes, the well-dressed incredibly cute aristocrat was now seeing you in your baggy pyjamas, bare faced, messy haired, with cow slippers on. It didn’t help that he was dressed up in a shirt and everything. “I’m not sick,”
“Then what’s wrong?” You paused, an awkward look accidentally washing over your face. Felix quirked an eyebrow before looking behind you and seeing your snack pile and hot water bottles on the bed, plus the one you still held in your hand. “Oh,” he said, realisation dawning on his face, “Do you need me to go pick you anything up?”
“Um no I’m alright,” you laughed though still feeling slightly awkward about it all, but Felix seemed completely unfazed by it all.
“Okay,” he said, before suddenly walking straight past you and into the room. “What were you doing before I came?”
“Just watching movies,” you said, voice trailing off as you followed him across your own room to where he sat on your bed.
“Oh, movie night!” he grinned, his charm turned back on. He moved to half lay on your bed and put the laptop on his lap, “What are we watching?”
Your eyes scrunched together in confusion as you looked at him, “I thought you were going out with the guys?”
Felix snorted, “Nah mate. They’re boring without you there,” he smiled in his adorable accent that made it even harder for you to wrap your head around this. “You, okay?”
“Yeah just- “you shook your head with a slight smile, “Never mind its nothing,” Felix nodded, seemingly accepting your answer as you moved to sit beside him on the bed.
“I like the outfit by the way. The slippers are a nice touch,” he grinned making you shove him away.
“Shut up,”
Felix laughed as he moved to put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you back to lay beside him as he looked at the movies you had on your list, “10 things I hate about you?” he asked, turning his head to look at you.
You could feel his breath fanning your face making it near impossible not to blush. “Its actually really good. It was inspired by The Taming of the Shrew but its okay if you don’t wanna watch it. Its just some dumb chick flick,” you said, pulling your hot water bottle onto your stomach.
“I trust your judgement don’t worry,” he grinned before starting the movie. “Oh popcorn! May I?” he asked, nodding towards the bag you had at the bottom of the bed. You nodded and quickly grabbed it to pass to him. when you moved to sit back his arm ended up around your waist, “Thanks love,” he smiled as he took the bag and settled in to watch the movie.
-
It was 1am when pretty woman wrapped up. All your snacks were now long gone and at some point, you had both ended up spooning on the single bed with your laptop on a chair beside the bed. Felix had stolen one of your hot water bottles for his back, stating it was the best invention ever.
At first the feeling of Felix’s arms around you and his breath tickling your ear made your skin red hot however now it was like a laying in a hot bath. “I can’t believe you’d never watched it before,” Felix said as the screen went black.
“I can’t believe you have,” you laughed making him roll his eyes with a dopey grin. “But I’ll admit it’s a good film,”
“What can I say? I have great taste,” he said, gently pulling your hip so you moved to lay on your back with him looking down at you, “I know a pretty woman when I see one,”
“Stop, that’s so cheesy,” you giggled making Felix do the same.
The laughter stopped but there was still a dopey grin on his face, “Its true though. This was fun though. We should do it again sometime,”
“You don’t regret ditching your pals?” you asked.
He shook his head, moving his arm to rest his head on his fist, “I can honestly say this is one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time,”
“Me too,”
A thick silence hung over the room as Felix glanced down at your lips, “Is it bad that I want to kiss you right now?” he whispered, his eyes gazing into yours and putting you in a trance.
“I think it would be worse if you didn’t,” was all you could whisper back.
You felt your heart racing in your chest as his head dipped down, his soft lips pressing gently against yours. the kiss was brief, but all the air was knocked out your lungs as he pulled away, “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages,”
“Then maybe you should do it again,” you said, your hand moving to rest gently on the back of his soft waves.
Felix smiled down at you as his head dipped down for another kiss, “Maybe I will,” he teased.
-
Nothing happened that night, but you did wake up with Felix still in your bed the next morning, your head resting on his chest. “Morning pet” he murmured as you woke up.
“Morning,”
“You’re cute when you sleep you know,” he said, your skin instantly heating up. His arm tightened across your waist though with a devious grin on his face, “Even cuter when you’re all shy though,” one thing was for sure, Felix and his cuteness would be the death of you.
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silkscream · 5 months
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HEAVEN SURROUNDS US
ੈ✩ summary: gojo likes that you make him feel human. admittedly, he also likes that sometimes, you make him feel like a god. ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), fingering, unprotected sex, slight dacryphilia, begging, soft dom!gojo, kind of mean gojo lol, workplace relations, reader can see curses but that's it, gojo has a god complex, dirty talk, not proofread bc i do not give a fuck ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k ੈ✩ a/n: i am having intense gojo brainrot. i was thinking about 'i'm your man' by mitski the entire time i was writing this btw. ALSO I LITERALLY HAD A GRAPHIC AND DIVIDERS FOR THIS BUT EVERY TIME I INCLUDE THEM this shit doesn't show up in the tags. i've given up!
Gojo Satoru has the smell of death burned into his senses to the point of complete apathy. He’s sure that Shoko feels similarly, though as a healer and a doctor, she’s often only met with the aftermath – the quiet decaying, the dried blood.
Gojo has encountered it all. The stench, the last pleas for salvation, the battered and torn-apart limbs. Even when the dying beings are cursed spirits suffering from the carnage created beneath Gojo’s hands, sometimes he wonders if an angel is nearby that weeps for them.
He has held grief inside his core to use as a weapon ever since he lost Geto. Nothing fazes him anymore. After the tragedies of his late teens, Gojo chooses to devote himself to his students rather than ruminating in sanctimonious thought loops. Gojo Satoru knows he isn’t a god, but sometimes, when he levitates in the sky with blood on his hands, he certainly feels like one. It’s safe to say that he may be the closest thing to one in the world of Jujutsu sorcery. It’s nothing that he despises – he’s known since his powers took shape in the awkwardness of his child-body.
Gojo likes to think he isn’t as cruel and indifferent as a god should be because of how protective he is. The warmth he’s had in his heart for Megumi alone confirms this as such, and now for Yuuji. Despite toying with the idea of divinity, he likes to remember that he’s human.
You are the only thing that reminds him of this.
Ever since Gojo had laid his eyes on you, he figured you were a delicate thing. He’s not completely wrong – although you can see curses, you lack any techniques. After becoming an assistant at Jujutsu Tech, he had taken more than a liking to you, more than he would be willing to admit to anyone else. He also never thought that the girl who was so quick to sardonic banter with him would be so vulnerable. 
When you’re underneath him, maybe he does consider himself a god, just for a second. And then he feels the silky touch of your skin and he can’t help but wish for a life of mundanity with you until the earth stops spinning. 
He likes that he can feel how fast your heart is beating. He likes that you become so pliant just from having his hand on your thigh.
It’s not like he exploits the little affair you have. It’s not that he wants to exploit you either, but the power trip that surges through him when you preen to his touch feels better than winning any battle. It’s those big eyes of yours. It’s a miracle you had reciprocated your attraction to him – he doesn’t know what he’d do to any other man who happened to pursue you. The thought of that kind of violence doesn’t make him feel any guilt. He’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant that he could have you forever, unconditionally.
Within the few months you’ve been working at Jujutsu Tech, you learn a few things about Gojo Satoru. He has an incredible sweet tooth. He cares about his students. He likes the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. Lives for it, even, but he could never tell you that.
That’s how you ended up here, you suppose. Writhing and wet and oh so obedient for him. 
You like that a man that is worshipped by all enjoys worshipping you.
“Satoru,” you whisper. The sound of your voice makes him fucking melt. 
God, it’s so much worse when you beg. Satoru wants to be gentle with you, careful, because he knows that if all of his morals were thrown out the window, he would devour you completely, leaving bruises in your wake. But he waits, titillatingly, smirking as his long fingers grasp the flesh above your hips.
“Please,” you whine. Your lower half bucks up into him, squirming just a little, but he grounds you with his large hands once again. 
Satoru knows better than to toy with his prey, but the flush on your cheeks is so fucking cute that he wonders what you would look like with tears rolling down the soft blush of your skin.
“Be patient, baby,” he rasps. “Just like lookin’ at you.”
“You look at me all day.”
“Someone’s got quite the attitude.”
You’re about to protest until you feel his knuckle brush against the peak of your clit, teasingly. A nasty grin spreads across his face as he grazes his fingertips along your slit, marveling at how wet you are when he’d barely touched you.
“So pretty for me,” he muses, mostly to himself. 
“Should see how pretty I am when you’re inside me.”
Satoru scoffs. Despite being so human, you have quite the mouth, so much confidence in the way you move and speak that he often forgets how easy it would be to lose you. To break you. Though, of course, that privilege is for him and him only. 
He kisses you to shut you up, but not nearly for long enough. You can’t even get your tongue inside his mouth. You whine pitifully as he pulls back. 
“Poor baby,” he coos. “So on edge today. What’s got you so desperate like this, huh?”
“Just want you,” your voice is meek, which is an anomaly. The honey-sweet cadence of your words is barely above a whisper.
“You have me.” Unbeknownst to you, you always will, whether you tire of him or not.
He makes his point by circling the pad of his thumb to your clit while his other hand claws at your chest underneath your dress shirt. The sound of your gasp has him reeling already, has his cock rock-hard in his slacks. 
“More,”  you whimper. “S-Satoru, please.”
You’re surprised when you feel the palm of his hand over your mouth. You whine against his hand, soft gasps dissipating underneath his touch as your eyes roll back. You feel two fingers enter your sopping cunt and it renders you brainless, docile just how he likes you. 
The rhythmic ministrations of his fingers touch upon the spot inside your core that makes your legs shake. You like being smothered by him despite your personality. You don’t even have to tell him – he knows already, he’s known ever since he noticed your reactions to him touching you casually during the working day.
The more you crave his touch, the more you become dependent on him, even when you don’t realize it. You always pride yourself on being an independent soul, refusing his insistence to pay for your meals, the way you express to him quietly that you want to be able to fight back one day. You could perfect a certain violence in between your fingers just like he can if you put your mind to it. But you have too much dignity to request his guidance as a mentor or teacher. 
He thinks about it now as he touches you. The idea of him training you to use cursed techniques. The idea of him making you in his image, shaping you like he had created you himself.
If anyone truly knew the extent of how you are the object of Satoru’s affection, of his obsession, one would render him pathetic. But he knows he’s too powerful. He knows it’s easy to make you seem like the pathetic one. You’re already begging for his cock, after all. 
“I‘m gonna… I’m–”
There’s a squelching sound when he retracts. His fingers are wet with your slick and you’re on the verge of tears when you feel the loss. You’re already falling apart without his touch. It doesn’t help when you watch him lick your wetness off of his own fingers.
“Why are you being so mean to me today?”
“‘m not,” Satoru purrs, licking a stripe from your collarbone to your earlobe. You try to kiss him since his face is so close to yours, but again, he restricts you. His long, slender fingers squeeze the base of your neck. “I could be a lot meaner to you, y’know. You’re lucky. This is mild compared to what I’ve thought about doing to you.”
“Wanna cum,” you whisper. You don’t even realize that there are tears falling because you’re too focused on Satoru. It isn’t fair, the way he’s toying with you. The moment he relinquishes his grip, just barely, you reach over to palm his cheek. He lets you pull the blindfold from his eyes.
“Dunno if I can let you. You’re being so greedy. Such a selfish fucking girl.” He pinches your nipple as he says it. His voice is smooth, dripping like honey, dulcet in the way his words manage to make your eyelashes flutter despite how filthy the subject matter is. He’d ruin you if he could. Perhaps, he’d ruined you the moment he touched you.
He’s touching your clit again, but not rhythmically. You feel a sense of loss every few seconds. He’s fucking teasing you now, but you’re smart enough to not snap at him despite how much you want to. 
So you say his name instead. Like a hymn or a prayer. Like it’s the sweetest thing to come from your tongue. From the way your voice sounds, Satoru is convinced that his own name is a blessing just because it comes from your lips. He can’t get enough of it.
You make Satoru feel human, but the way you react to him at the moment makes him want to pretend he’s a god.
“S-Sat–Satoru. Oh.”
“You cryin’ already, baby? Thought you liked it when I played with you.”
His voice is low, raspy. Almost cruel. 
Your brain is so foggy that it feels like he’s been doing this to you for hours. You can’t even form words, can’t bitch to him or dominate him the way you often attempt to. There’s a secret part of you, deep inside, that is unlocked by the way Satoru handles you. As much as he loves control, he still doesn’t know the extent of what you would let him do to you. How you wished he’d wrap a silk ribbon around your neck and collar you like a puppy. How you think you would do anything for him if he asked.
You don’t even know that he would do the exact same for you.
Now, you’re at your peak again. Your legs are wobbly, senses so heightened by the way he plays with your pussy that it takes you a few moments to notice that his cock is prodding against you, bare and pink and fucking leaking. 
Maybe if you tell him you’re close, he’ll stop. You can’t stand the thought of it. So, naturally, you cry instead, and the sight makes him want to keep you for as long as he’s alive. Satoru would make sure nothing slights you, and that nothing out of his control could possibly vex you. This desire usually scares him. At the moment, it doesn’t. At the moment, he feels drunk with it. 
He knows when you cum because he has you memorized. It’s a little death, truly, because when your legs tremble and your moans fade into a sharp gasp, Satoru knows for sure that your brain has turned to mush. Your body melts against his. Maybe you’d melt right into his mattress if he didn’t have more energy to play with you. 
Gojo Satoru does not believe in a higher power, but he thinks that if one existed, one that was more powerful than him, he would thank them. He would thank them for you, the creation of you, the very essence of you living and breathing in the same wretched world as him. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, you were made just for him. 
You recover in a succession of exhales. Blinking rapidly through blurry vision as you feel Satoru’s face nuzzling your neck, almost too domestic and sweet to bear. You had never thought of anything serious with him because of his reputation, but every time he has you like this, underneath him, you often wish that he would reassure you that he wants to keep you.
And he does. He is devoted to you in a way that feels holy. He just doesn’t know how to tell you that. Satoru hopes you can figure it out just from the way he touches you. 
And maybe, like him, you’re just above human. An angel, he thinks. A set of wings would suit you. 
“I– I– please–” you strain. You feel embarrassed from the tears, but Satoru cherishes you. He kisses and licks them right off your face.
“I know, baby. I won’t make you beg any more than you have,” he sneers. 
You’re fucking doe-eyed, angelic when he enters you. Just the tip, for now, just so he can see how you react. It isn’t the first time but you are certainly acting the part from the way your whole face screws up. Your perfect mouth parts and he touches your bottom lip with his thumb.
You whimper like a wounded thing. Like you should be begging for mercy. He hasn’t dipped too far into his God-complex yet to coax that reaction for you.
And without a warning, he pushes himself into you completely, bottoming out. He groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. So warm. So fucking wet.
“Fucked you enough to mold the shape of your pussy to my cock, huh? Feels so fucking– fuck,” he exhales, rutting into you with eyes shut. 
You whine his name, clutching at him, scraping your nails across his pale back. He loves the way you need him. He wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything else in the world.
Made for me. God made you for me.
You slur your words against his neck and his chest as he thrusts into you – cries of his name, of begging for more, of your usual expletives. He grins like a predator. He bends you in half and thinks briefly about breaking your limbs for the sake of his pleasure. (He doesn’t. You’re too delicate, too human.)
In reality, you’re sarcastic and sometimes brash. When Satoru has you writhing underneath him, you’re a little more shy. He wants to tease the desire from you, whatever filth that permeates in your brain. 
“Tell me what you want.”
“Want– I want– aah!”
“Feels so good for you, I know. Use your words for me. I know you can,” Satoru taunts.
“Want you to make me cum on your cock. Please,” you beg. “Need it deeper, ‘Toru. Need you.”
“Need me, don’t you? Say it again so I can hear it.”
“Nngh– Need– Fuck, I can’t–”
He slows the speed of his thrusts and rubs the length of your jaw softly with his palm. His other hand rubs your clit gently, making your body spasm. He tucks the hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear so he can see all of you. You and your swollen mouth and glassy eyes.
“Don’t do that,” you whine.
“Do what, baby?”
“Teasing me like this. Wan’ it rough.”
“What else?” he breathes into your neck, palming your breast as he thrusts into you deeper.
“Want everything. Want it to hurt.”
And with that, he gives it to you. He gives you all of it. 
You drape your arms around his body so that you’re closer than ever, both of your bodies ready to mesh into one if they could. Satoru pushes your legs up, knees bent and ankles near your ears, and he basks in the sound of your pathetic mewls. 
“Such a good… fucking girl,” he groans. “‘m so close.”
“Me too,” you reply in a hushed tone. “Right– right there.”
Satoru has fucked you plenty of times. He’s called you a slut, a greedy whore – but he can’t bring himself to degrade you like that even though he knows you like it. You’re splayed out for him, limbs limp and grateful for his embrace. You’re too fucking precious for him.
You’re too dazed to think about the moral implications of your affair. It's a miracle you can't enter his mind so deeply when you're fucked out like this. Where his thoughts flash from lecherous to monstrous, yours are rendered sluggish. There’s almost nothing in your brain, save for him and his blue eyes and the feeling of his cock. It consumes the best of you. You welcome it with open arms.
Another kiss. It’s mostly Satoru working his tongue into your mouth and you dissolving under his tongue. He tastes so sweet, so fresh all the time. His lips are so fucking soft it drives you insane.
“Pleasemakemecum,” you cry out in a jagged mumble. “Please. Need it so bad. Please!”
He groans in response. You’re begging more than usual. You are frantic and desperate and welcoming his hand to shape you in his image. 
The way he grinds into your cunt becomes more aggressive, which is easy for him. There’s no resistance – your pussy is so fucking wet for him in that way. The cloying heat in his pelvis spreads to the rest of his body, warmth enveloping him like hot water in a bath.
You whine his name again and it dissipates into his mouth.
“Cum with me, fuck, I can feel you–” he moans. Both of you reach your peak in the way he grasps your body, calloused hands worshipping the length of your waist until his fingertips bruise your thighs. 
His hips stutter as he indulges in his pleasure. In the sound of your hushed whimpers. In the way your nails claw across his back. 
Both of your labored breaths fill the silence. Even in the dark, you admire the brightness of his blue eyes. They could replace the divinity of the stars themselves, you muse. 
Both of you are hazy, intoxicated on the touch of each others’ skin. You shiver in your skin. You’re only soothed when he buries his face into your neck, long limbs splayed over your smaller frame.
“I should fuckin’ marry you,” he breathes into your skin.
“What was that?” you raise a brow.
He clears his throat. Despite the daze, he’s able to give you one of his signature cocky grins. Something flashes in his blue eyes, you think.
“I think I wanna keep you.”
If he was god, you were his seraphim, he’s decided. He almost tells this to you, out loud, because your big eyes drink him in. He knows better.
“You have me,” you reply softly, echoing him from earlier in the night. The way he smiles reminds you of the sun. 
Gojo Satoru knows it’s an affirmation from you, maybe even pillow talk. But he knows that sentiment to be truer than anything he’s ever known. He is yours and you are his.
For now, you don’t know the half of it. Maybe someday you will.
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astonishment · 8 months
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You’re Losing Me Part 8
𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖯𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖽…𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋? 𝖮𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽?
A/N: this is a hanahaki au WC: 4.4k
It’s slow, being friends with James again, falling back into a routine. It’s slow and tense and at times awkward but most importantly, it’s worth it. James is worth it.
After your conversation in the forbidden forest he started being much more understanding, and you regretted not talking to him about it sooner. He stopped demanding answers from you; no matter how badly he wanted to ask. He stopped cornering you, instead keeping his distance and playing it cool; letting you approach him whenever you wanted to talk or hang out. He even made it a habit of letting Remus keep the marauders map, saying he needs it more.
Of course he isn’t without fault. James has always been hot headed and short tempered, always one to act without thinking things through. Try as he might to be the perfect best friend, at the end of the day, as much as he hates to admit it, he isn’t the person you go to for comfort and reassurance anymore; that’s Remus. As much as he tries to be okay with it, he isn’t. And sometimes James can’t help but let his frustration show.
On more than one occasion he’s said some snide comment in regards to you and Remus, in regards to your new relationship. Sometimes you storm away, sometimes he does; but after having some time to cool off, you always come back to apologize. You for not being able to let him all the way in, and James for running out of patience and getting jealous. Some days are worse than others, with the rest of the marauders awkwardly watching the scene unfold, unsure of what to do, or if they should even get involved. But no matter what, no matter how hard it is, you and James always find your way back to each other.
You haven’t talked about the almost kiss with James, and you probably never will. At this point, you think it’s probably for the best. The most you were able to get out of James about that day, is that he kissed you- tried to- because he wanted to. Trying to get any more information apart from that only leads to James getting frustrated at himself and stuttering over his words so you just drop it and move on.
The thing is, not talking about the almost kiss would be fine, if James wasn’t acting so weird around you now. You hate to say it, you hate to give yourself even an ounce of hope, but a part of you thinks something changed in him that day. Because since that almost kiss, since the moment James’ lips just barely brushed against yours, he’s been acting differently around you.
You and James have always been close, but this is new. You seem to catch his gaze every time you look up. And even when you don’t, you can feel his eyes on you. He’s always touching you in some way, whether he’s aware he’s doing it or not. He’s always wanting to hold your hand, always brushing your hair away, always sitting a little too close. And though you constantly try to remind yourself that it doesn’t mean anything, that it can’t mean anything because James doesn’t like you, it still makes your heart race.
Speaking of making your heart race, there’s also Remus. Remus who is soft and kind and patient and understanding. Remus who spends hours in the room of requirement with you, playing board games and putting puzzles together. Remus, who carries you to bed after a hanahaki fit, who gives you a piece of chocolate afterwards, who reads to you, who holds you safely in his arms when you cry.
Remus is sweet. He’s sweet and smart and funny and handsome and compassionate and he’s…not yours. He’s perfect in every sense of the word; and much more than you deserve, either as a friend or as more. As much as you wish that you could have him as more, he doesn’t like you. At least…not like that, because he has his comet. And whoever she is, she isn’t you. But you’re okay with that… You have to be.
It took you a while, but you finally started sitting with the marauders in the great hall again, making Sirius and Peter incredibly happy. You’ve even gone back to planning pranks, wanting your final year to go down as the most memorable. You yourself haven’t been able to see any of them through yet. You ended up sleeping through the first few, sheepishly apologizing to the boys when they asked where you were.
Afterwards, you found yourself going to the meet up spot, only to find that the prank had already been done. At first you thought maybe you had gotten the time wrong. It wasn’t until the fourth time this happened that you realized they were changing the time and not telling you. Words couldn’t describe how hurt you felt.
“James.”
James looks up from his comic book with a smile.
“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?”
“You tell me.” You say, taking a seat next to him. “I thought we were good…”
“We are.” James confirms with a nod.
“Then why am I being kept out of the loop?” You ask, hurt evident in your voice. “You guys keep changing the time for the pranks and not telling me. Is this your doing?”
“What?”
“Is this your way of getting back at me?”
“No!” James shakes his head. “No, of course not! I’m not even the one changing the times. That’s Moony!”
“Moony?” You repeat with a confused frown.
“Yeah.” James nods. “I-I thought you knew. Since you guys are so close now, I thought he would’ve told you.”
“It was Moony?” You ask softly. It felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you.
“Yeah…” James confirms with a grimace. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I swear I thought you knew. We all did.
You nod your head as the weight of his words sink in.
“I-I’m sure he has a good reason for doing it…” James says, nervously rolling and unrolling his comic book.
“I’m about to find out.” You tell him, standing up and making your way out of the common room.
You only make it halfway to the library when you see Remus. He’s still looking over his parchment so he doesn’t even see you coming until you’re right in front of him.
“Oh! Y/N, hi.” He greets, rolling up his parchment.
“Can we talk?” You ask, not waiting for an answer before turning around and walking into an empty classroom.
Remus cautiously walks in behind you, closing the door and leaning against it.
“Remus, what the fuck?” You ask immediately.
He doesn’t answer, he just frowns in confusion as he stares at you.
“Why are you doing the pranks without me? Why do you keep changing the times and not telling me?”
Remus sighs in defeat.
“James told you…”
“Why didn’t you?” You ask.
“Y/N, I was going to. I swear-“
“When?”
Remus opens his mouth but you beat him to it.
“I thought we were friends…” You say softly.
“We are!” Remus assures you.
“Then why did you-“
“I didn’t want you to get hurt!” He blurts out.
“…What?”
“You can have a hanahaki fit at any moment.” Remus stresses. “And you get winded more easily, what if you have an asthma attack when we’re running away?”
You let out a sigh of relief when you hear his reasoning. Of course he would be trying to protect you. How could you ever think otherwise?
“I thought you hated me.” You tell him with an embarrassed laugh.
“Hate you? No!” Remus shakes his head. “I could never! I-I was trying to keep you safe…”
“I appreciate that, Moony. You know I do, but, I don’t know…I guess it still hurts.” You admit with a shrug.
“Hurts?”
“Moony, I…I had to drop most of my classes.” You remind him with a sniffle. “I had to give up my apprenticeship. I spend all day locked away in that god awful room! And yeah, you’re there. But when you’re not, it’s…so lonely. This is the one thing I have left that makes me feel…normal. And it feels like you’re taking that away from me.”
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Remus apologizes, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin atop your head. “I-I didn’t even think of that. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You sniffle.
“It’s not.” He shakes his head. “I should've stopped to consider how that would make you feel. I should’ve talked to you about it. Forgive me?”
“Of course.” You nod. “Always.”
Remus releases the breath he had been holding, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before pulling away with a smile.
“The next prank is tomorrow morning. After breakfast.” He tells you. “Will you be there?”
A beaming smile lights up your features as you nod at him.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Are you nervous?” Remus asks as the five of you walk out to the courtyard.
“More excited than anything.” You tell him honestly.
“Stay with me, okay?” He asks, looking over at you.
“Yes, mum.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes.
Remus reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you both to a stop.
“Y/N, I mean it.” Remus stresses, staring into your eyes. “I need you safe. Promise you’ll stay with me?”
“Yeah,” You nod, gazing up at him. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”
Remus nods, seemingly happy with your answer before he starts walking again. You think he’s going to drop your hand so you start to pull away; but to your surprise, he only tightens his grip. He looks over his shoulder to give you a small smile before looking straight ahead again, leading you to the marauders, with your hands still intertwined. You look down at the ground in an effort to hide your smile.
“How do we know it worked?” Sirius asks as he stares at the Black Lake.
“Only one way to find out,” You shrug, pulling out your wand.
You scan the courtyard, grinning devilishly when you see Lucius and his friends sitting by the water. Pointing your wand, you mutter a spell, and only a moment later a strong gust of wind picks up Lucius’ cloak, before it lands on the water.
“Oh, for fucks sake!” You hear Lucius complain.
He stands up and makes his way to the edge of the water. Immediately, the giant squid wraps a tentacle around his waist, picking him up and swinging him back and forth. Lucius screams the whole time while others gasp and laugh at the scene. Eventually the giant squid lets him go, tossing him a few feet away and he stands up, cursing as he dusts himself off.
“Did you see that?” A Hufflepuff asks her friend with a laugh. “The squid literally just- Ah!”
She doesn’t get to finish her sentence as she too, gets picked up and swung around by the giant squid. Unlike Lucius, she finds it fun, squealing with laughter as she’s swung to and fro before she too, is eventually tossed back down.
The students all seem to find it fun, actually getting closer to the water in hopes that the squid will pick them up and swing them around. It’s like a game to them. They scream and shriek in laughter before getting tossed back down, only to stand up and run towards the Black Lake again.
“Well boys, and girl.” James adds, looking at you. “Another job well done.”
“I think this is my favorite one yet.” Peter says, watching as six students are being swung around, one in each of the squid's tentacles.
“Yeah.” You all agree.
“You five!” You hear Professor McGonagall shout. “I should have known!”
The five of you widen your eyes. Remus automatically grabs your hand, pulling you with him as everyone takes off running.
“Split up!” Sirius orders when you all run into the castle.
Sirius and Peter run up a flight of stairs as you, Remus and James continue down the corridor. When you reach the end of the hall, James turns right, while Remus goes left, pulling you with him.
Remus immediately ducks into an alcove, pulling you in with him. It’s a little too cramped to comfortably fit the both of you, but you’re determined to make it work. You and Remus share a wide eyed look when you hear the distinct meow of Ms. Norris. Remus puts a finger to his lips, urging you to keep quiet and you silently nod your head.
When you hear Mr. Filch getting closer, Remus places a gentle hand on your waist, shuffling the both of you closer to the back wall. Mr. Filch passes by without so much as glance in your direction and you both let out a sigh of relief.
You feel the slightest pressure on your waist and look down to see that Remus’ hand is still there. You slowly bring your gaze back up, only to gasp when you find his face a mere centimeters away from yours.
“Hi.” Remus whispers.
“Hi.” You whisper back.
“Are you okay?” Remus whispers, eyes scanning your face, looking for any sign of discomfort before locking eyes with you.
“Y-yeah.” You nod breathlessly, “Fine. You?”
“I‘m fine.” Remus repeats.
You continue to gaze at him, curiously eyeing the scars on his face. Before you even know what you’re doing, you bring a hand up to lightly trace his scars. Remus closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath at your feather light touch.
“Does it still hurt?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper.
“No.” Remus shakes his head, staring down at you with soft eyes. “No, it…it feels nice.”
You bring your hand back down and share a shy smile with Remus.
“We should probably head out.” You whisper up at him.
“Yeah.” He agrees, though neither of you make any effort to leave.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks again. “Your breathing is kinda shaky.”
“Hm?” You ask with wide eyes before nodding. “Yeah! Yeah. I’m fine. Just…nervous, I guess…”
“Why?” Remus asks curiously.
“I don’t…I don’t know…”
“Are you nervous about getting caught?”
“No.” You shake your head with a frown.
“Are you…nervous about being here? With me?” He asks, tilting his head to the side curiously when you don’t answer.
“Am I making you nervous?” Remus asks softly, stepping the tiniest bit closer to you.
You let out a soft gasp. You try to take a step back but end up with your back against the wall.
“Um. I-I” You stutter, gazing up at him.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Remus asks.
You shakily nod your head.
“You make me nervous too.” He whispers.
It feels as if time is frozen. It’s just you and Remus staring at each other, waiting for something to happen. Your heart starts racing when you see Remus slowly bringing his face closer to yours.
“Hey!” James shouts, causing the both of you to pull away. “There you guys are!”
James looks between you and Remus with a confused frown.
“What’s up?” He asks.
You and Remus share a wide eyed look before shaking your heads.
“Nothing!” You assure him, stepping out of the alcove with Remus right behind you. “Did any of the guys get caught?”
“No.” James tells you, putting his hands in his pockets. “Though McGonagall absolutely saw us. So a punishment is inevitable.”
“Worth it.” You shrug.
“I don’t understand why we have to be punished.” Remus complains. “I mean, the students liked it. They were having fun!”
“We’re in school, Moony. We’re not meant to have fun.” You scold.
Remus pokes your side, causing you to shriek in laughter.
“Right! Well, I’m gonna go get ready for the match.” James says, taking a step back. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t get caught. Will you guys be there?”
You and Remus share another look before shrugging and turning back to James with a smile.
“Yeah.”
“Sure.”
“Okay. Brilliant. See you later, then.” James stammers, turning around and walking away with that same confused frown on his face.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn around only to find James smiling down at you.
“Hey! If it isn’t the best thing at this party!” You tease.
James shakes his head but his face still turns a brilliant shade of scarlet.
“I can’t believe I said that.” He groans in embarrassment.
“I feel like you would get a free pass on it tonight, Mr. Quidditch Star. You did great out there!”
“Thank you!” James nods with a grateful smile.
“No Evans tonight?” You ask, craning your neck to look around.
“No. She had to do rounds.” James tells you with a shrug. “Though she did say to tell you that you still owe her a game of battleship? Whatever that means…”
“It means that she should consider stopping by when I’m not sleeping.”
“You’re always sleeping!” James points out, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side! What kind of a best friend are you?”
“I can be on your side and still call you out on your shit.” James argues.
You just roll your eyes again.
“Surprised Moony isn’t with you. You guys are practically attached at the hip these days.” James comments, taking a sip of his drink.
“You just missed him! He went to the bathroom.” You inform him, pointing over your shoulder with a smile. “He should be back soon.”
“Oh… That’s…cool.” James nods.
You give him an awkward smile before taking a sip of your drink, scanning the common room.
“Is there something going on between you two?”
“What?” You ask, looking at James with a confused frown.
“Nothing!” He shakes his head. “But is there?”
“Something… going on… between me and… Moony?” You ask.
James nods his head.
“Would it bother you if there was?” You ask instead of giving him an answer.
Before James can give you some sort of reply, somebody walking past bumps into him quite harshly. James, not expecting it, loses his footing, crashing into you. Your drink falls from your hand as you’re backed up against the wall. James puts a hand right by your head in order to catch himself, the other landing on your waist to steady you. You look up and find yourself going breathless when you see his hazel eyes staring down at you.
“Are you okay?” James whispers, gaze quickly flicking down to your lips.
“Yeah.” You nod shakily. “I’m- I’m fine. Can you… back up? Please?”
“Oh. Shit. Sorry.” James apologizes, shaking his head as he takes a step back. He picks up your empty cup with a frown. “Do you want me to get you a new one?”
“No,” You say breathlessly before clearing your throat. “No! It’s-it’s fine. I was gonna go to bed anyway.”
“Already?” James asks with a frown. “It’s still early…”
“Yeah, but it’s been a long day for me.” You say, walking past him.
“Wait! Um, let me walk you back!” James offers.
You look from James to the dormitory staircase, before looking at him once more with your brows raised.
“It’s a long walk. Anything can happen.” He insists, causing you to laugh.
“Okay, Jamie. Sure.” You nod. “I would love for you to walk me back.”
“Brilliant.” Jame smiles, offering his arm to you.
You tilt your head back in laughter but slip your arm through his, letting him lead you to the staircase that’s only a few feet away.
“Well! Here we are! Safe and sound!”
“My hero.” You swoon, placing a hand over your heart as you bat your eyelashes at him.
“You’re annoying, you know that?” James says with a roll of his eyes.
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.” You remind him. “Good night, Jamie.”
“Night, love.”
James leans down, wanting to press a kiss on your forehead at the same time that you get on your tiptoes, wanting to do the same to him. You both freeze, with your lips puckered, only a few inches away from each other, before your eyes widen and you both take a step back.
“Sorry!” James apologizes.
“No, I’m sorry.” You apologize. “I was trying to give you a-“
“Kiss on the forehead.” James finishes with a nod. “Yeah. Same.”
You and James both share an awkward laugh before you point over your shoulder at the stairs.
“I’m- I’m gonna go.” You tell him another laugh.
“Yeah! Right! Of course! Good-good night.” James stutters.
“Good night.” You nod, turning around and starting to go up the stairs. You freeze only to turn back around. James looks at you with a hopeful smile. “Can you tell Moony that I went to bed? I don’t want him to worry…”
“Yeah.” James nods, smile getting just the tiniest bit dimmer. “Of course. I’ll…I’ll let him know…Good night.”
“Night, Jamie.” You smile at him.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You know it’s risky, being out in the open like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. You’re tired of having to hide away in the room of requirement all the time. It’s a nice day out, and almost everybody is at Hogsmeade anyway. You see no harm in sitting by the Black Lake for a while.
You sit under a tree and take it all in. You watch the leaves fall, you feel the cool breeze run through your hair, you feel the sun on your face. It’s nice, and you wonder why it can’t be like this all the time. But then you feel the familiar tickle in your throat, and the moment is ruined. Sighing, you stand up, figuring you should probably head inside.
The marauders have just walked out into the courtyard when Lily manages to spot them.
“James, can I talk to you about the rounds schedule really quick?” She asks, holding a parchment up.
“Sure.” He nods. “What’s up?”
“Bertram has different hours next week for his apprenticeship so we all need to cover his rounds.” Lily says, handing him the parchment. “Can you look it over and see what shift you wanna pick up?”
James scans the parchment as Remus, Peter, and Sirius all shove each other around, laughing about one thing or another.
“Hey, isn’t that Y/N over there?” Lily asks, pointing to you off in the distance.
“Oh yeah.” James nods, before looking back at the parchment. “We’ll go say hi in a minute. Um, I guess I can do this one.”
“Oh, my god! Y/N!” Lily shouts, causing all four boys to look over at you, startled. They look up just in time to see you drop to the ground and start throwing up.
Lily immediately starts running over, wanting to see if you’re okay with the marauders not far behind. Lily comes to a stop beside you, dropping to her knees and rubbing your back soothingly as you continue to retch.
“What’s wrong with her?” Peter asks.
“Is she sick?” Sirius adds.
“I don’t know.” Lily shrugs helplessly.
“Oh, fuck.” Remus curses. There’s no hiding it now.
Nobody can see exactly what you’re throwing up, since your hair is obscuring their view, but it sounds bad. Lily ducks her head and moves your hair the tiniest bit, trying to get a peek, trying to see if you’re okay, only to gasp when she sees flowers coming out of your mouth.
“What?” James asks, feeling anxious at her reaction. “What is it?”
“It’s…it’s…” Lily stutters, unable to even get the words out.
“What is it?!” James repeats.
Finally done throwing up, for now at least, you sit back, revealing the blood soaked daffodils sitting in a pile in front of you.
“What the fuck?” Sirius asks. “Where the fuck did that come from?!”
You look up, and everyone gasps when they see the blood still dripping from your mouth. Knowing that you’re caught, your eyes fill with tears.
“Oh my god. You have hanahaki…” Lily says softly.
“What’s that?” James asks, looking between you and Lily. “What’s hanahaki?”
“I-I didn’t know how to tell you.” You cry. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s getting worse.” Remus whispers.
“How long has this been going on for?” Sirius asks, his own eyes filling with tears as he takes in the scene in front of him.
“What the fuck is hanahaki?!” James asks again, getting more upset.
“Now is not the time!” Lily shouts, effectively shutting all four boys up. She turns to you with a soft, sad smile, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe your face before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Do you wanna go see Madam Pomfrey?”
Your face burns in shame and embarrassment as more tears start to fall. You don’t think to tell Lily that Madam Pomfrey can’t really do anything for you. You don’t think of asking Remus to come with you. You can’t even find it in you to care about the blood still on your chin. The only thing on your mind is that you have to get away from here. You have to get away from all the eyes you can feel on you. That being said, you weakly nod your head.
“Come on,” She says softly, holding out her hand and helping you up. “I’ll go with you.”
The marauders immediately start to follow, but Lily glares at them, stopping them from taking another step.
“Not you.” She says sternly. “The last thing she needs is to be crowded.”
“We’re her best friends.” James argues.
“Then give her some space.” Lily says, before walking away, leading you towards the medical wing. You keep your gaze focused on the ground the whole time, not wanting to see the pitying looks you’re sure you’re getting from everyone else in the courtyard.
The marauders watch you walk away before looking down at the pile of bloody flowers that you left behind.
“I didn’t know people could cough up flowers.” Peter says.
“That’s because they’re not supposed to.” Sirius informs him grimly. “Hanahaki isn’t supposed to exist. Not anymore…”
James crouches down and picks up one of the flowers, careful not to touch any of the blood.
“What’s going on?” He asks, as he inspects the daffodil. “What’s hanahaki?”
Remus pulls out his wand and mutters the evanesco spell, making all the flowers, including the one in James’ hand disappear.
“It’s not good, Prongs.” Sirius sighs as they all start to make their way back to the common room. “It’s not good at all.”
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ghostofhyuck · 26 days
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NCT Dream and how your first kiss went.
Mark Lee ; in your room, while listening to his new song.
Mark decided that you'll be the first one who will listen to his first mini album. He's nervous. The room is filled with nothing but silence until the very last second of his last song. You then proceed to smile as you took a quick glance at him, then you started rambling about everything. Mark suddenly leans on to you, trying to brush something from you but it was also the moment you turned your head to him and in a second, his lips crashes on to yours. It'll surprise both of you and will immediately look away embarrassed. Mark then proceeds to apologize to you and then asks you if he can kiss you again, to make it up from that accidental first kiss. 
Huang Renjun ; in the middle of painting portraits.
It's a playful date where Renjun asked you if you want to do painting portraits. At first, it was quiet and peaceful, until you two started brushing each other with paint, it gets worse when he shove a bit of acrylic paint on you. You tried to run away from him but he caught you immediately, and as you look at him, Renjun could stop the urge to playfully plant a quick kiss on your lips. You'll be surprised at first but you eventually gave him a long tender kiss. 
Lee Jeno ; in front of you house after your first date.
It'll be at the end of your first date with him. You're in front of your house while Jeno's hands haven't let go of yours. You could only smile at him, trying to find the perfect way to say goodbye. But then Jeno proceeds to ask you if he can kiss you, and although you blushed, you said yes. Jeno was nervous with his request that when he planted a kiss on you, it felt like his lips brushed onto yours quickly. It was awkward yet a genuine one. You only smile back at him and then gave him a quick kiss in return. 
Lee Donghyuck ; in the middle of a late-night conversation.
Your first kiss with Donghyuck is in his bed. It'll be the two of you, under the dim light of his nightlamp, talking about something deep. You don't know that as you rant about the things in this world, Donghyuck is just staring at your lips. He then proceeds to ask if he can kiss you. You stopped but agreed to his request. Donghyuck grabs your cheeks, then he kisses every part of your face except your lips, you knew he was teasing you and before you could complain, he shuts you off. You only kissed him back, knowing that he's smiling widely as he kisses you. 
Na Jaemin ; on the ride back home after the first date.
It's the end of your first date with Jaemin. The dinner, the talk, and everything seems to be so right that you don't want the day to end. Jaemin parks his car in front of your house and you don't want to go out yet. You two had a small talk, talking about how the dinner was nice. Jaemin then brushes the stray strands of your hair, tucking your hair behind your ear. He proceeds to ask if he can kiss you and you only nod. You felt his lips touching yours and it felt heavenly. You kissed him back and you two separated after a few seconds. You two then proceeds to laugh after separating, thinking that the kiss made the night even more special. 
Zhong Chenle ; over a glass of alcohol after dinner.
After dinner, you and Chenle decided to enjoy the night over a glass of wine. You two are halfway on your glass when you noticed Chenle staring at you. You were curious but he goes off first when he asked if he can kiss you. You thought about it for a second but said yes eventually. Chenle stands up from his seat, approaches you and then cups both of your cheeks, he smiles before he leans to you slowly until his you feel his lips. it was long and felt like Chenle was longing for your lips, you kissed him back and it went on until you two have to separate because you two ran out of breath. 
Park Jisung ; after their concert.
You're at the backstage room alone when Jisung burst into the room. Their concert ended and Jisung was jumping with joy because it's finally finished. You were about to congratulate him when he lifts you, spins you, and as he puts you down, he quickly leaned out to give you a kiss. It was eager, as if Jisung's still filled with adrenaline from the concert. You were frozen and as Jisung separates from you, he realized what he just did. The poor boy panicked and apologized to you profoundly when you shut him off with a kiss. 
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gaycentral · 21 days
Note
Can I ask you to write about spencer being in a relationship with y/n and jj confess her feelings to him as they're being held hostage and they're on speaker the whole time and the whole team and spencer's girlfriend hears it and after spencer and jj are safe and days passes by spencer just be confused and distended but his girlfriend didn't say anything about it even though she wasn't feeling okay about it at all until they have an argument about it.
Miscommunication
Spencer Reid x Gen!Reader
Spencer’s been avoiding talking to you since JJ confessed her love for him. You have had enough.
Warnings/Content: Angst, angry reader, sad reader, sad Spencer, Spencer can’t talk about feelings so great. Ends with fluff.
You couldn’t sleep.
It had been two weeks since the hostage situation, since you feared for your boyfriend’s life and the life of JJ—one of your closest friends. But the fear had morphed into confusion, then the horrible crushing feeling of betrayal. JJ had confessed her love for your boyfriend. Your boyfriend. She was a married woman, it had been ten years since Spencer had a brief infatuation for her but she couldn’t let go.
And now you couldn’t sleep.
Things had been awkward. Spencer didn’t really want to talk about what happened, and a part of you understood that. But a much louder, much angrier part of you wanted to grab him and shake him and tell him to for fucks sake just talk to you.
You sighed as you sat up in bed, hands rubbing tiredly down your face. You looked over, Spencer was asleep curled on his side, facing away from you. It was seemingly an innocuous position, but it didn’t ease the anxiety that maybe Spencer didn’t love you anymore—or worse, never loved you at all. Maybe he’d been pretending, maybe you’d been his second choice when JJ slipped out of his grasp.
Slowly, you climbed out of bed, careful not to wake him. The anxiety was growing, crushing, your stomach twisting into double knots then triple knots as your mind spiralled.
Breathe. You needed to breathe.
You shuffled to the living room, bare feet gently padding across the hardwood floors as you approached the window overlooking the street, cracking it open to let air in and bracing your hands on the windowsill, letting your head hang low.
Your heart beat so hard it ached, and the tears you couldn’t fight blurred your vision into watercolours.
“Hey.”
Spencer’s voice nearly jumped you out of your skin. His sock-clad feet had allowed him to accidentally creep up on you. You didn’t know, but he’d woken up the moment he couldn’t feel you next to him, his hand blindly reaching out to find still-warm sheets but no you, and he immediately worried.
“Oh. Hey.” You force a smile as you turn around, hastily wiping your eyes and trying to make it look like you’re simply tired. But you’re both profilers, and Spencer isn’t an idiot, even without his glasses or contacts on in the late hours of the night he can see your red-rimmed eyes. His face falls.
“What’s wrong?” He immediately takes long strides towards you. One step, two, three, then he reaches you. He reaches out to you, but you step back.
“I can’t…I can’t be kept in the dark anymore, Spencer.” You don’t want to do this, you really don’t. You just want to go back to bed with Spencer in your arms or you in his but you know you can’t. You need to talk about this. You need an answer.
He seems to know what you’re talking about before you can even continue, as his gaze falls to the floor. He doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Can we just talk about this in the morning?” The exhaustion in his voice almost makes you crack, but you stand firm.
“No, Spencer. We can’t just talk about this in the morning.” The words come out sharper than intended, and you grimace, but you keep going. “You’ve been avoiding it—me, for two weeks!”
Spencer doesn’t say anything, but his hands clench into fists by his sides. He can’t bring himself to look up at you, the shame gnaws at his insides because he knows you’re right and it hasn’t been fair to you. He tried to ignore the way your crestfallen expression tugged at his heart whenever you tried to talk about it and he turned you away.
You finally ask the dreaded question, pulling it from beneath the lump in your throat and through your teeth. “Do you love her?”
Spencer’s eyes widen and his gaze snaps up to you in disbelief. He wanted to say no, he did, because he didn’t love JJ. Not like that, anyway. But seeing how angry you were, how tired you were, he found the air trapped in his lungs and all that escaped was a small sound that left him mentally kicking himself and calling himself the worlds biggest idiot.
And because of this, you thought you had your answer. He did. He loved JJ. Not you.
You force back the next wave of tears, your eyes and throat burning with the effort of keeping them unshed. You feel your heart shatter in your chest.
“I see.” You manage to say, trying to hide your heartbreak behind a cold mask. You were never good at that, not with him. With him you were an open book. “Well. I’ll get out of your way, then. I’ll take my stuff in the morning.”
You try to walk past him, but he stops you, his hand grasping your wrist. Not hard enough to hurt or bruise, simply a silent plea for you to stop and listen. You want so badly to wrench out of his grip, to scream and cry and hate him for hurting you but you don’t. You can’t. You love him too much. So you stop, and you wait.
“I don’t love her.” Spencer finally says, his voice so earnest you have a hard time not believing him but a part of you still doubts. “She’s my friend, and I’ll always love her as a friend. But that’s it, I promise. I love you.”
His hand slides down from your wrist to your hand, fingers curling around yours as his thumb lightly rubs across your palm. His eyes are wide and wet, pleading with you to believe him, not to push him away.
You don’t trust yourself to talk without crying, so you take a shaky breath to try and steady yourself without speaking. It doesn’t work, you can feel the tears falling as you open your mouth.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Your voice comes out more broken than you wanted it to as your face crumples. “I was scared you didn’t love me anymore, and when you didn’t talk about it…I thought I’d been right.”
Spencer frowns before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand, voice muffled against your skin. “I was scared. And an idiot. I was scared that no matter what I said, you wouldn’t believe me. It was stupid, and I’m sorry.”
You nod, and even though you’re still crying, the knot in your stomach begins to unwind. “I’m sorry, too.”
Spencer visibly deflates with relief and gently tugs you into his arms, face dropping to your shoulder as one of his hands cradles the back of your head. Your fingers dig into the soft fabric of his worn sleep shirt, feeling the muscles in his back begin to relax beneath your hands.
“I love you so much. Please don’t forget that, even when I’m being an idiot.” He kisses your shoulder to punctuate the statement, his arms gently squeezing your waist.
“I love you too.” Your arms wrap tighter around him, and you feel the smile growing on your lips as you finally feel at peace for the first time in two weeks.
The two of you stand there for quite some time, simply holding each other, before Spencer yawns into your shoulder.
“Can we go to bed now?” He mumbles, pulling back but not letting go of you, a sleepy smile on his face that makes your chest feel fuzzy she warm.
“Yeah, as long as you hold my hand.” You’re half-joking, and you see Spencer’s smile grow as he begins to tug you along to your shared bedroom.
Once you get there, he all but flops onto the bed, but he takes you with him, laughing at your surprised yelp as you land on top of him. Once you gather your bearings, you adjust slightly, resting your head on his chest and curling your arms around him like a koala. You could hear his heartbeat beneath your ear and the sound of sheets crinkling as he pulls the blankets up over the two of you.
“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head when your eyes slip closed, the scratchy five o’clock shadow on his skin lightly brushing your forehead. “Always will.”
You try to say it back, but it comes out a borderline incomprehensible mumble, and you can feel him smile.
He knows what you wanted to say.
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