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nereidprinc3ss · 2 days

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do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him.

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye.

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign.

You look at it.

And then you set your phone down.

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness.

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside.

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes.

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment.

He looks good. Almost too good.

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek.

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head.

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him.

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully.

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.”

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek.

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best.

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body.

You cover his hand with your own.

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion.

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies.

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks.

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense.

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this.

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy.

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel.

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm.

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him.

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you.

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly.

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds.

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no.

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful.

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly.

“Yes, please.”

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting.

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine.

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for.

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings.

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present.

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing.

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster.

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem.

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest.

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place.

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand.

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair.

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful.

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again.

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you.

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame.

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you.

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin.

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential.

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands.

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind.

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK.

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake.

He knows.

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity.

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like.

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before.

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it?

Maybe you have it all wrong.

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you.

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick.

24 hours go by.

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up.

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure.

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off.

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking.

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed.

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone.

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said.

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room.

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while.

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs.

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones.

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble.

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no.

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly.

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence.

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans.

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure. After a pause, he sighs in defeat.

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown.

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless.

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up.

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones. It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic.

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand.

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket.

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter.

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges.

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it.

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer.

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing.

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?”

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you.

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?”

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that.

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before.

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft.

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest.

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows.

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts.

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning.

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration.

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous.

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them.

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit.

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice.

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making.

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now.

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that.

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers.

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute.

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base.

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut.

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock.

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.”

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk.

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment.

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry.

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!”

He knows.

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist.

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding.

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease.

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more.

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone.

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide.

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else.

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you.

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here.

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength.

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?”

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous.

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue.

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared.

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out.

“You regret your first time?”

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does.

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash.

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins.

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same.

You want to scream bloody murder.

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse.

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence.

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back.

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me.

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later.

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help.

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does.

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound.

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more.

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right.

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here.

“Goodnight.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 2 days

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✨ Behind (Not So) Closed Doors✨

As promised, here’s a little story of the one prompt I got a little bit ago! Literally no one voted ‘no’ on the poll for this story and I think that’s hysterical, bunch of thirsty mfs (affectionate 💖)

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You catch Lucifer acting out on his most carnal desires…

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, hand job, (oral m & f receiving), p in v

You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, but he was also kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!

Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?

When you had first spoken to him all those months ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meeting, and ever since then it had been nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.

You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”

You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.

A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. The black nightgown you typically wore to bed didn't provide nearly enough heat, but you didn't want to change back into your normal day clothes either. So, you threw on your favorite pink robe before you left your room, it was more than enough to keep you comfortable. It was late, way later than you should have been awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most nights, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Lying awake in your bed didn’t help these thoughts but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.

You glanced over to the fireplace, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fireplace, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.

“What the hell am I going to do…”

Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”

Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.

“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand, and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what had just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”

You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.

“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”

“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”

Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”

The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.

“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”

“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.

You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.

You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but maybe you came on a little strong. Plus, your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more now that you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.

Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!

You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.

What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.

Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.

Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stroked his shaft.

You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.

Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course, the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”

A small gasp escaped your lips.

Fuck.

Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running until you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer avoided you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.

Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it firsthand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.

But of course, those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.

There was a knock at the door.

“H-Hey,” you heard Lucifer’s voice on the other side, “it’s me. Can we talk?”

You didn’t dare move. You hid your head in your lap, pleading silently that he would give up and go away.

You heard him sigh. “I can see your shadow, you know.”

God damn it…

Slowly you rose from the floor, your trembling hand latching onto the doorknob. But your brain wouldn’t let you turn it no matter how hard you tried. How could you possibly face him after what you saw?

“Please?…”

The way he sounded so desperate; it was impossible not to give in. With a heavy sigh, the doorknob turned and you cracked open the door just enough to see Lucifer standing just outside, his glassy eyes looking into yours. You looked away immediately.

“Hi…” you whispered staring down at the ground.

He lowered himself in an attempt to get you to look at him again. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, opening the door inch by inch until he was able to step inside. You shut the door behind him, folding your arms over your body. You still hadn’t looked at him. The silence between you two was deafening, but you knew he wasn’t going to leave until you talked.

“I’m so sorry!” you both shouted simultaneously. “Wait, what?”

"Hold on now!" Lucifer interjected, "You have nothing to apologize for!"

"Of course I do!" you retorted. "I invaded your privacy when I watched...uhh, n-never mind." When you glanced in his direction, his entire face almost matched the pink circles on his cheeks. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him any longer. "I-It was an accident! I came up to apologize for scaring you off again. But...I heard you call my name a-and I just assumed you already knew I was outside, so I opened the door and...I'm so sorry, I should have knocked, and I should have left immediately…I-"

You didn't notice Lucifer make his way towards you, throwing his hands onto your shoulders and snapping you out of your spiral. "Hey, no more of that," he soothed. "I'm not angry, and I didn't come here to scold you. This is all on me."

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. "B-But..."

"My dear, this is my fault, not yours," Lucifer cut you off, bringing his thumb up to cheek to wipe a tear that had fallen. He realized how close he'd gotten to you in his attempt to calm you down. Flustered, he stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. You already missed the closeness. "If you'd let me, I'd like to apologize and, you know, at least attempt to explain myself. Not that what happened was excusable. But if you'd rather I leave now, I'd more than understand. And I don't expect your forgiveness. I...just thought it best to apologize to you directly instead of continuing to avoid you and pretending like nothing happened. I'm deeply and truly sorry for everything."

You felt the sincerity in his words, and you saw the pain in his face thinking he had hurt you. You couldn't let him leave. Not yet.

"Stay...please..." you managed to respond. You made your way over to your bed and gestured for him to follow. You sat down crossed legged near the edge of the bed, Lucifer mirroring your actions. You took a deep breath before speaking once more. "I'm not angry with you either, you know."

A strange mixture shock and confusion flashed across Lucifer's face. "Y-You're not?"

You smiled wearily. "No, I promise. I mean, I'm a little taken aback..." Lucifer winced. "...but not in a bad way! If anything, I feel...flattered, you know?" Your face burned at your own candor. A quick glance at him showed he felt the same heat in his own cheeks.

"R-Regardless," Lucifer cleared his throat, "it was still wrong of me. I could try to give excuses about...my ex-wife being gone for more than 7 years now, or tell you that watching you from afar just sparked something in me that I hadn't felt in God know how long, or..."

"You've been watching me?" you teased, flashing him a small grin.

"Shhhhit, well, I uhh...only sometimes!" Lucifer tried to reason. "A-And not for very long! I just, umm, I just noticed how kind you are with everyone you come into contact with, and you're extremely helpful when it comes to the hotel! And your smile...I MEAN, uhh, C-Charlie absolutely adores you with the way she goes on and on about your progress! We both wonder how you even ended up down here in the first place. And well, you...you're," he gulped, "you're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on..."

You sat there frozen, your body trembling slightly. Your mind raced a million miles a minute. You tried to get your mouth so form any sort of words, but nothing. Lucifer started to panic.

"I-I'm sorry! That was really forward of me! I shouldn't have-I uhh...God, this is the worst fucking apology imaginable!" Lucifer brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes and lowering his head. "Maybe it would be best if I just g-MMPH!"

You don't know what came over you, but somehow your lips crashed into Lucifer's. His hands flew from his face, now gripping the bed sheets beneath him. He sat perfectly still, but only for a moment. He couldn't help but give into you, letting his eyelids flutter closed and melting under the kiss. You pulled away after only a few seconds, Lucifer leaning his head forward slightly, still needing more. His crimson irises had grown into saucers, his face hot as the sun. Having the literal King of Hell flustered beyond belief from a single kiss was a sight you absolutely wanted to see more of.

"If you think I'm beautiful, then you are someone who is beyond beauty, your majesty," you cooed. You weren't completely sure where this sudden burst of boldness had sprung from, but you liked it. And from what you were witnessing, all signs pointed to Lucifer being completely enamored with it as well.

You went back to your seated position, but now Lucifer was on all fours, crawling ever so slowly towards you. "P-Please..." he begged, "I-I need more..." His face was now mere inches away. He rested his forehead on yours, waiting for your lips to touch his again. The faint smell of apples that hugged his skin was intoxicating.

"You want me to kiss you again?" you asked playfully. "Then you need to tell me something, darling."

Lucifer's breathing had picked up at the sound the pet name you'd given him, his eyes screwed shut. "A-Anything!"

"Tell me then," you said as you began to stroke his soft blond hair, "what were you thinking about when you were touching yourself to me?"

Lucifer whimpered against you. "Anything but that! Please! I-I can't..."

You pulled your forehead away from his, still patting his hair. "I think it's a little too late to be shy now, my king."

A low moan escaped Lucifer's throat as he inched towards you once again. "I...I was thinking...about how wonderful you would taste on my tongue...." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I was thinking about how...how pretty your lips would look around my cock." A kiss to your left cheek. "I was thinking about watching you...fuck...watching you ride my cock until I have nothing left in me." A kiss to your right cheek. "But mostly...I was thinking about how badly I want you to be mine..."

Your lips met once more, and with even more vigor than before. His devilish tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging to delve in further. When your lips parted, your tongues had clashed with such voracity that it had knocked you down onto you bed, Lucifer now completely overtaking you. His hand found the back of your head and pulled you closer into the kiss which you didn't even think possible. With his body completely flat on top of you and even through your robe, it didn't take long for you to notice a certain bulge pressing against your stomach. You chuckled lightly, causing Lucifer to pull away, knowing exactly what you had felt.

"Ha...sorry...my uhh, my body has a mind of its own," he laughed nervously. "If this is too much for you, w-we can slow down. Or just stop completely! It's...It's been a while for me a-and I don't want you to be uncomfortable..."

You placed your hand on his shoulder and gently guided him off of you, putting him on his knees. In an instant, you tossed your robe to the side, revealing your cute black nightgown that left very little to the imagination. Lucifer sucked in a breath as he frantically started shedding his own clothes as well, removing his jacket and dress shirt in a manner that really emphasized his desperation for you. You couldn't help but stare at his bare chest and how it almost glistened in the faint lighting of your room.

"Do you think you're the only one who's body is reacting to this?" You shoved him down gently onto his back, his head now resting against your pillows. "But instead of just telling you, why don't you see for yourself?" You crawled up his body, dragging yourself against home until you straddled his chest.

"Oh, fuck me..." Lucifer almost inaudibly. He snaked his hands up the skirt of your nightgown until his hands reached them hem of your panties. He looked up at you expectantly, and with a final nod from you, you felt him tug your underwear down your legs. He pulled them down slowly, lifting one leg out first and kicking them off with the other. You gazed at him seductively, your glistening entrance now mere inches away from waiting lips. Lucifer's hands grazed up your thighs before stopping just before where you needed him most. Lucifer's breath hitched.

"It's alright," you reassured him. "Touch me. Please, Lucifer..."

"Ahh, wait!" Lucifer stopped his movements entirely. With a quick snap of his fingers, you heard your door lock itself. "We don't want another incident now, do we?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrics, but it made you giggle, nonetheless. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're stalling!"

Lucifer laughed. "My sweet angel, if you've learned anything about me in last few minutes, it's that I couldn't wait another second longer for you even if I tried."

With those words, you felt his fingers finally find their way to your folds. It was like an electric shock had coursed through your entire body when he touched you. He'd barely begun and you were already soaking wet. His thumb found your clit instantly as he began to rub small circles around it, sending wave after wave of pleasure. You lifted your hips slightly so his figures could push their way inside of you. Words couldn't begin to describe how good he felt. He told you himself that it had been some time since he'd been with anyone, but there was no indication of this being the case as his two digits pumped in and out of you at a steady pace. He knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered when you felt him pull his fingers out of you, only to watch him dip them into his mouth, cleaning off your slick entirely. "God, you're more delectable than I could have ever imagined! Please, let me taste you, all of you..."You blushed hard and nodded. You scooted yourself up further, hovering directly over his lips. "Still too far..." you heard him say before his hands latched onto your hips and forced you down so you were seated firmly on his face.

"L-Lucifer!" you cried weakly, trying to pull yourself up. You knew it was futile though. Damn him and his angelic strength.

"You won't hurt me, darling, I promise," he said with a wink. "Besides, breathing is overrated..." You felt his forked tongue immediately dart in and out of your drenched pussy. Your broken moans filled the room as he ate you out like it was his last meal. Lucifer switched between tongue fucking you and sucking on your sensitive nub at a relentless pace. That coil in your stomach was tightening with each movement he made.

"Lu-Luci-fer, o-oh my God, f-fuck, I-I can't." You tripped over every other word that left your lips. Your body started to tremble and your thighs shook violently as you felt your impending orgasm. "I-I'm gonna c-cum, gonna cum, oh SSHHHIIIIITTT-FUCKFUCKFUCK C-CUMMING!" You cried out helplessly as you felt your walls clench around nothing, your juices spilling out onto Lucifer's more than eager tongue. He rode you through your orgasm, lapping you up and not wanting to waste a single drop. You felt him release his hold on your hips so you could at last move back down to his chest. You stared at him wide eyed as he looked back at you with the biggest smile you've ever seen. You felt the heat rise up your neck and cheeks as you watched him lick up the rest of your release that hung on his chin.

"W-Wow, that was...fuck, that was amazing," Lucifer sighed. "Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine," you breathed, "more than fine. You...really know how to use that tongue of yours." Lucifer flashed you a toothy grin like he had just told you the worst joke imaginable. You wanted to hide your face but damn it, he was too adorable when he looked at you like that!

"Well, you got your first wish. Allow me to grant your next one..." You shimmied down his body until your face lingered above the very obvious strain in his pants. "Let's make you more comfortable shall we?" You unhooked his belt in mere seconds, his pants following soon behind, leaving him in nothing but his briefs that already had a large wet spot in the front.

Lucifer managed to prop himself up on his forearms, his blush spreading to his entire face. "Sweetheart, y-you don't have to do that, I'm fiii-iiiiii-oooh fffffuck..." Lucifer's protest were cut short when you had brought your hand up to palm his very apparent erection through his shorts.

"Now that's hardly fair, Luci," you scolded him, "I think I deserve my fill too, don't you?" Before Lucifer could choke out an answer, you hooked your fingers along his waistband and pulled his briefs all the way down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock at last. You stopped for a moment to marvel at his length, having to stop yourself from drooling. "O-oh wow, that's umm...that's big..."

Lucifer chuckled nervously above you. "Y-Yeah, sorry about that. I think? Like I said, y-you don't have to-GAAHHH!" Without warning, you delicately gripped Lucifer's shaft, stroking it lethargically. Even though you were moving as slow as possible, the king was already a moaning mess. "S-Shit, you-fuck...feels so good..."

"Is this what you imagined, your highness?" you cooed, now rubbing your cheek against his cock in tandem with your hand. "I wanted to help you out earlier, you know that? When I saw you stroking yourself, I almost pushed opened that door so I could give you what you really wanted. But hey, better late than never!" You chuckled lightly as you licked up his shaft to the very sensitive head of his cock. The taste of his precum was addicting, you craved more. Lucifer writhed under your touch as his whimpers became music to your ears. You circled your tongue around the tip, earning a guttural moan from the man beneath you. You glanced up and noticed Lucifer's eyes were squeezed tight, with his claws digging into your sheets.

"Look at me," you ordered him while you continued to pump his cock. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as he forced his eyes open. "Good boy. I want you to keep your eyes on me." You smiled at him wickedly as you parted your lips and sunk down on his shaft.

"A-AHHH, OOOH FUCK!," Lucifer yelped as he fought against throwing his head back in pure bliss. Your warm mouth enveloped him, the taste of him was nothing short of divine. Your head continue you bob up and down, taking as much of him as you could. Lucifer was a blabbering mess, only able to make incoherent noises. His ability to think had all but disappeared. All he could focus on was the immense pleasure your sinful tongue was providing. His breaths became shallow as your mouth lingered on his cock, refusing to move.

"I-I ca-FUCK...H-HOLY SHIT," Lucifer nearly screamed, his hips now bucking up uncontrollably, forcing you to take more and more of him. "CU-CUMMING, CUMMING...MMPH OHFUCKME!" With one final thrust, you felt his cock twitch, his hot seed filling your mouth. You sucked him off through his orgasm, taking in and swallowing every bit of cum he had. Once he'd finished, you finally let go with a small *pop*. You made your way up his body once more and hovered over his face with a giant grin. You opened your mouth to show him some cum you still had on your tongue before swallowing it down gleefully.

Lucifer's hands flew to his face immediately upon watching you. "I can't believe you just did that! How am I ever going to recover?!"

You laughed as you pulled his hands away from his face, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. He happily returned your kiss, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips under your nightgown. Lucifer leaned his head back on the pillows and tugged at the hem. "May I?"

"Of course," you nodded. He helped raise your nightgown, lifting it up and easily tossing it over your head and onto the floor. You sat up straight, straddling his stomach and giving him a very nice view of your breasts. "I know you've already felt them once tonight, but I'll let you touch them again if you ask nicely."

"Oh, ha ha," Lucifer mocked playfully, "very funny. That was technically your fault! I didn't just lay on your chest for fun, you forced me there when you pulled me away from the fire!"

You smirked and took ahold of his wrists. "Do you want to touch my tits or not?"

"...Yes, please..."

Smiling, you brought his hands to your breasts. A soft hum emitted from both of you as Lucifer began to knead at your soft mounds, his thumbs running over your sensitive nipples. Suddenly, he started to roll them between his thumb and index fingers, causing you to squeak in surprise. He sat up quickly, pushing you back so that you were now kneeling on the bed and hovering over his thighs. He took one nipple into his mouth as he continued his ministrations on the other. You moaned at the sensation, taking your hand and holding the back of his head for support. He switched sides, making sure your other nipple got the same amount of attention. The feeling of his teeth grazing you nipple sent shivers down your spine.

"Luci," you whispered into his ear. "you had one more fantasy you told me about, did you not?" Lucifer pulled away from your breasts, his eyes wide and full of anxiety. You could feel his heartbeat racing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"O-Only if you want to," his muffled voice reverberated off your skin.

"Yes, I do." You pushed Lucifer back down gently, noticing his cock was already hard again even without any further stimulation. "My, my, eager are we?"

"Very much so, yes," Lucifer whined.

"You're adorable, you know that?" you praised. Lucifer blushed hard and tried to cover his face once more before you pinned his hands above his head. "Don't you dare hide that pretty face from me, sweetheart. I want to see every single little cute expression you make once you're inside me." A small whimper left his mouth as you released your grip on his hands. You shifted yourself in order to line up your entrance with the tip of his cock, slowly rubbing it between your slick folds. "Are you ready?"

Lucifer gasped and threw his head back in response. "Y-Yes, please...need you...need to feel you..."

You began to sink down on his length, feeling him stretch you out beyond what you ever felt before. A beautiful mix of pain and pleasure coursed through you as you finally bottomed out on his cock, both of your moans echoing off the walls. Tears pricked your eyes as he filled you completely, as if you felt whole, now connected as one. You shifted your hips ever so slightly, but it was enough for Lucifer sit himself upwards and wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace.

"You really f-feel like heaven," Lucifer breathed. "P-Please...please say you'll be mine..."

A single tear drifted down your face, and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at any moment. You eagerly returned his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and bringing him as close to you as you possibly could. “I’m yours, Lucifer.” You cupped his face in your hands and brough your lips to his, sealing your promise. Feeling him twitch inside of you, you lifted your body off of him and gently sank back down. You swallowed Lucifer's moans as you continued your pace, bucking your hips and taking all of him with each sharp thrust. Lucifer's hands flew to your hips as he helped you up and down his aching cock.

"F-Fuck, y-you're killing me here, darling, I-HNNG...I'm close..." Lucifer sobbed was your pace became relentless. His hips were now rutting into you as he slammed you down onto him. Your eyes had crossed and drool began to pour down the side of your lips. You were absolutely and unashamedly cock drunk. The tightening in your stomach became almost unbearable, your release was fast approaching and so was his. "FFFFUUUUCCKK, g-gonna cum, g-gonna-ACK, c-can I?..."

"Inside L-Luci," you pleaded, "inside...fill me n-now-GAH F-FUCK, C-CUMMING!" Your walls clenched around his thick cock, pulsating relentlessly as Lucifer continued to pound into you making your vision blur. Your cries mixed with his as you felt him empty inside of you. The grip you had on him loosened as his wings suddenly sprouted out from behind him, catching you by surprise. Lucifer didn't seem to notice, too overtaken by his orgasm. He bit down on your shoulder harshly to keep himself from screaming while his hot seed continued to pour into you. Your muscles finally relaxed as you both came down from your highs. Lucifer's tongue lapped at the mark he had left on you, soothing the sore spot. But now that he'd given you your first mark, all you wanted to do was beg for more.

"S-Sorry about that," he smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to bite you so hard." He turned his head, finally noticing his ruffled wings. "O-Oh! Well...that's new."

You chuckled. "Your wings are beautiful, Lucifer." You ran your fingers over a few of his scarlet feathers; they were the softest things you've ever felt. His wing folded towards your touch, now almost fully engulfing the two of you. "Wait, are you apologizing for marking me? I'm yours, am I not? Now I have proof!"

Lucifer buried his face in your chest. "L-Love, you can't say things like that! You're gonna drive me insane!"

"Love?" you repeated.

He shot his head up in a panic. "I-uhh...is that okay?"

You kissed his lips tenderly. "It's more than okay, love."

You watched his wings puff up at your words, his smile wider than you've ever seen before. You then carefully pulled yourself from his lap and laid down ever so gently on his one set of wings while the other set wrapped around your body. Lucifer wrapped his arms around you once again, now feeling a double layer of protection and comfort.

"Thank you," he murmured against your ear.

"No, thank you," you whispered back. "It was wonderful, truly. And at least now I can stop worrying about whether or not you hate me!"

You heard a small hum leave Lucifer's lips. "That couldn't be further from the truth, my dearest." A placed a small peck to your forehead. "Do you...mind if I stay here tonight?"

You shook your head. "I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to," you teased. "You're mine now too." Fatigue flooded your body as you yawned and felt your eyelids fall. You snuggled your head against Lucifer's chest before unconsciousness had taken over.

"Forever," was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep in Lucifer's arms.

~~~

WHY THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG IS BEYOND ME, HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAYS!

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#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #KILL ME WHY IS THIS 6000+WORDS

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pellucid-constellations · 13 hours

Text

If It All Fell (8)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Angst, pining, injury

a/n: I appreciate thoughts and reactions more than you know!!! <333 Italics indicate flashbacks.

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

The next two weeks were interesting.

In the first few days after the accident—the ones filled with confusion and incorrect suspicions—you had spent most of your time alone or sleeping. Mor visited your bedroom every morning to share limited information about your past, but there was no routine beyond that. Everyone tiptoed around you, too afraid to set off the timebomb they assumed was your mind.

But Helion had disputed that assumption.

You were allowed to know who you were, to become the person you had been.

So, a routine began to form.

Breakfast early in the morning, usually with a random assortment of the inner circle. Mor was always present, keeping up with her responsibility of telling you about yourself. Cassian joined more often than not—an early riser, he deemed himself. Azriel made it when he could. He was always busy in the morning. Doing… something, everyone told you.

Rhysand would join you after the meal, whisking you away for an hour or two to work on the powers you still could not call upon. He would have a different objective in mind every day and it was your job to parse out what it was.

You failed.

Obviously.

He started bringing in random Velaris citizens instead, but you still felt nothing. It was nice to see the smiling strangers; they were all kind to you, all apparently knowing who you were. The vagueness surrounding them leveled the playing field more. They didn’t know your whole life story and you weren’t supposed to know theirs.

“You’ve explained it to me before,” Rhysand had said. “It’s a vibration, sometimes a light or a color. You see it around them, feel it. You understand a deep part within them that they don’t even know they’re revealing.”

Well, there was never any light or vibration or color. You could never tell that the fae were lying or that Rhysand was planning something big for his anniversary with his mate. None of this otherworldly intuition that the Night Court seemed to value so highly. It was all just stagnant.

After spending some time failing with Rhys, you got to explore Velaris. You had insisted that you didn’t need a chaperone, and your family believed you—for a time. You had three whole days of walking around the city alone before that privilege was revoked.

Granted, it was your fault that it was revoked, but that was neither here nor there.

It hadn’t been your plan to get lost, just as it hadn’t been your plan to get caught up in a street brawl over a cart of potatoes. But when you weren’t at the designated meeting spot for Cassian to bring you back up the house, and when he found you with a bleeding nose an hour later, what you meant to do didn’t matter.

“Y/n?” you heard a voice shout, heavy footsteps shaking the ground beneath you. “Shit—y/n, look at me, you okay?”

Warm hands enveloped your shaking ones, drawing them back and catching sight of the red staining your fingerprints. It was Cassian, you realized, with his broad wings cloaking you in their shadow. The General’s expression hardened when he took in your face.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low, comfort combatting fury. “Where have you been? We have about 10 people looking for you, sweetheart.”

You grimaced—both at the pain in your nose and the notion of your family scouring the streets of Velaris. “I’m so, so sorry, Cassian. I got turned around and then I was in this alley and there was a boy—”

“Hey!” Defeat washed through you at the sound of another voice in the alley, all hopes for a peaceful return home washed away. “Is your girlfriend over there gonna pay for the product I lost?”

The Illyrian before you paused, body going still at the accusatory tone. Cassian’s jaw clenched and he turned, keeping you well behind him. You still caught a glimpse of the scene from between his legs, and the merchant—to his credit—had the mind to stop his taunting.

And to look afraid.

Really, truly afraid.

“You did this to her?” Cassian growled, fists clenching at his sides.

The merchant swallowed. “You’re—and she’s…”

“Did you. Do this. To her?” Cassian asked again, words broken up by malice.

A beat of pressing silence, only whispers of the street meeting your ears. The merchant took several, shaky steps back, but the movement damned him. His hands swayed with his backtracking feet, and red glistened on his knuckles.

Cassian’s wings flared at the sight. It only took a small uptick of his brow for the smaller man to fall to the floor in a plea.

“Please, please don’t kill me! I didn’t know who she was. Don’t turn me over to the Shadowsinger, I won’t make it! I have a family to care for—a wife! I was only trying to protect my crops and she butted in. I didn’t want to hurt her!”

The General hooked his chin over his shoulder and sent you a questioning gaze, one you were sheepish to answer. With a harrowing breath, you revealed, “There was a little boy stealing potatoes. He was going to hit him. I stepped in the way.”

A tug at your chest had you gasping as Cassian turned back around. The feeling had been persistent the moment you got lost, increasing after you’d been implicated in the merchant’s conflict. It pulled and pulled, a desperate winding around your ribs that you didn’t know how to relieve.

It had to have been fear. Or stress.

Cassian eyed the man crumpled to the floor. “Is the boy okay?” he asked, the question meant for you but directed across the alley.

“Yes,” you confirmed, pressing your hand to the blood running down your chin. “He ran away.”

Cassian grunted, sent a harsh warning to the man, and then crouched back down to your place on the ground, shaking his head in frustration. “Let’s get you home.” And then he grumbled, “I might get my ass kicked but…”

Cassian had not gotten his ass kicked when you got home, but many other things happened. Mor just about cried in relief, her arms thrown around your neck followed by a string of commands to never do such a thing again. Rhys rubbed at his jaw as tension lifted from the House. He also had a command—that you wouldn’t be traveling alone anymore.

And Azriel… Azriel looked like he would vomit, his shadows flitting angrily around him before bridging a path to you. He had cleaned the blood from your face, eyes haunted by misplaced grief, and pure guilt replaced all else in your myriad of emotions.

You agreed an escort would be better.

Azriel volunteered. Every day.

And so you got to know Azriel.

Mor had described him as reserved, not one to offer the intimacy of touch or personal information so readily. That was not your experience with the Shadowsinger.

Fleeting touches had become commonplace between the two of you, whether it was his hands or his wings or the brush of his thigh as you sat by the Sidra. You weren’t sure if he was doing it consciously, but you welcomed the familiarity. You found he did it most when he wasn’t paying attention—when he was deep into a story about your past or listening to your opinions intently.

He was open, sharing pieces of himself you didn’t have to pry to receive. He told you about his mother, about his scars, about how he overcame them. He shared with you how important you were to him many, many times, slipping it into conversations so causally. A thread connected the pieces of his life, and you, it appeared, made up the spool.

He did not speak of his mate, despite being prompted.

A sadness came over him at any mention of her, one so achingly melancholy that you told yourself you wouldn’t ask again.

He loved her deeply, but something had happened there.

You tried not to get too close. This was friendship, a deep familial love that he relied on. That you seemed to have relied on for so many years.

And Azriel was hurt. Even if he and his mate were no longer intertwined by their bond, he didn’t need the onslaught of emotions his amnesiac friend was suddenly overcome with.

Because you were—overcome by emotions for him.

It was wrong.

You wished you had the context to separate those feelings. If you understood your history—if you had memories beyond the few weeks of sweet stories and brushes of his fingers along your hair—maybe you wouldn't be feeling this way. Maybe your heart wouldn’t beat painfully against your ribs each time he entered the room… each time his eyes met yours as if he could feel your admiration for him within his own chest.

You wouldn’t be feeling this way, surely. Because no one had told you that you should be.

You only had the recounts of your friends, and the three of them had made no insinuations about you and Azriel.

You wished you could meet the rest of the inner circle.

There had been plans to, but then you came home with blood on your face and a disorientation in your eyes and that was suddenly off the table.

After your time exploring Velaris, you read.

Mor would pile your favorite books beside you in the small reading room you had come to love and rave about how great of an opportunity this was for you.

“You would kill to be able to read these for the first time again,” she’d laugh. “So have at it!”

Reading felt easy.

Books did not pressure you to remember things you weren’t able to.

You could see it all in their eyes, the way your family clung to each of your words for even a hint of reminiscence. They’d make a joke and hold their breath, desperate for the laugh that should be bubbling out of you. But you never got it, never making the connections that they did.

Azriel was the only one who’d catch the shame you felt at your lack of deliverance. Although he was the one with the most torture in his expression, he was also the one with the most understanding. He’d lean his head down and whisper what you needed to know in your ear, and then you’d giggle—for show—and hope would return to the room.

But nothing had returned to you.

You were still a shell.

“What do you think?”

Cassian’s question blanketed the table, forks halting their movements atop plates. Breakfast had just begun and you were dressed for a morning in Velaris at the theater, this time with Cassian.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Mor questioned, eyeing the General beneath a raised brow.

“Were you there last week when I brought her home all bloody? I think it’s a great idea. Rhys agrees.”

“And Az?”

Cassian continued his breakfast, reaching for his drink. “Cassian—”

And so you found yourself steps away from the roof of the House of Wind—no longer in the comfortable daywear you’d been sporting—squinting into the morning sun. Leathers fitted for your body were laced up at your back and waist, stretching with a groan as you reached up to block the light from your eyes. Although the pain in your head had subsided to practically nonexistence, it often flared up in brightness or in times of stress.

Like when you stood atop a mountain and stared into the sun. Or got punched in the nose by a potato merchant.

“This is where I go while you go galavanting around the city,” Cassian chimed in, a grin evident in his words.

“Charming,” you muttered, still adjusting to the jarring assault of the sun.

The sound of grunts and clashing metal oriented you quicker, and as your eyesight settled you were met with the image of Azriel. He was bare-chested, leathers donning his legs as he pressed further and further forward, the knife you always saw at his hips hacking away at the metal dummy before him.

He moved so quickly that it was difficult to track him, one swipe after another, so carefully skilled and practiced. Sweat beaded down his tattooed skin. His wings rippled and spread in time with his footwork.

He was mesmerizing, a force of nature only halting as his shadows wound around his ear, whispering. Azriel whipped around, sheathing his knife at his side and staring out beyond the training ring with a narrowed gaze. He spotted you instantly, without looking near or around—a magnetic force.

Until he wasn’t looking at you, instead glowering in Cassian’s direction. “What are you doing, brother?” he bit out. The back of his hand made a quick pass along his forehead.

Cassian didn’t look the slightest bit sheepish, ushering you to the outskirts of the ring. “She’s going to train. Now that we know she won’t break at the slightest thing.”

Hazel eyes slid back to you, a softness overcoming them as you quickly averted your gaze from the broadness of his chest. You were not ogling him.

You bit into your cheek to stave off the embarrassment.

“I thought we agreed—”

“Az, come on. It’s been a couple of weeks now. We need to get her back in the swing of things.”

A crack of defeat edged its way onto the Shadowsinger’s face.

What had they agreed on? To wait it out? To treat you like glass until you were their version of yourself again? Something ugly licked up into your chest, something raw.

For a moment—just one—you stood on the sidelines and felt pathetic. While the two Illyrians stared at each other, a silent conversation between eyes, you let yourself feel like an outsider. They had had discussions about you, but not really about you. About the you that they loved—the one with memories and reciprocation.

“Will you be careful?” Azriel’s even voice snapped you out of the spiral you had initiated. His expression was uneasy, a hand pressed to his chest. “And tell us if you need to stop? If your head—”

“My head has been completely fine for a while now,” you assured, hands coming up to grasp the rungs of the training ring. “Promise.”

Azriel pressed his lips into a line but motioned you in with a nod of his head.

Despite the conflict still raging within your mind, you smiled at Cassian, the two of you letting out a small cheer and high-fiving before the General lifted you by your hips and past the rungs. You regained your footing and stood before the spymaster, meeting his level gaze with your own.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Cassian began, a loud clap resonating behind you. “Muscle memory is going to play a big role here, but I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you’re just with this guy for now.” He patted the shoulder of the dummy Azriel had been practicing with.

You scoffed, dropping your hands to hang by your thighs. “What? I still have the same muscle tone from before and last I checked my face was beaten in by a real person, not a chunk of metal.”

“And that will not happen again,” Azriel cut it. “Ever. But especially not when you’re… in this state.”

You ignored the unsettling remark. “Okay, well I think sparring one of you would be more effective in the prevention of that, don’t you?”

“Cassian and I could hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“We can’t guarantee—”

“I trust you,” you interrupted, your view of Azriel partially obstructed by the shadows that wound up your body. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Let me do this, Az.”

The male before you faltered, his eyes darting quickly between yours. His chest, gleaming in the sunlight, rose and fell with strenuous effort. A clench of his jaw. Another pass of silence.

“Okay,” he nodded, gaze roving over your features. “Okay, y/n. Get warmed up and we can spar.”

You warmed up with Cassian, stretching and relishing in the feel of your body moving. He went over a few basic maneuvers with you, and you tried your hardest to pay close attention to how his feet slid around the ring.

It was a rather hard task, seeing as Azriel had continued his blade work on the dummy. Still shirtless.

After the General was satisfied with your progress, he passed you off to his brother. The Shadowsinger’s posture had softened a hair from when you first entered the ring, his wings coiled back and his shadows creating uneven shapes along the floor. He kept his hands by his sides, his feet relaxed—not a fighting stance in the slightest.

“Come on,” you teased, cocking your head to the side. “You have to at least try, Az.”

“I did not spar with you often before your memories were lost,” he admitted. “I do not enjoy the thought of hurting you.”

Guilt immediately flooded you. You hadn’t even thought about what this would be like for him, too caught up in your own strife. Your stance dropped, the fists at your chin loosening and falling.

“Oh, Azriel, I’m sorry. I can have Cassian—”

“No.” He dragged his left foot back. A ghost of a fighting position. “Only me.”

You took a painful breath in.

He didn’t move, allowing you to lead.

You shook your hands out and then your body moved of its own accord.

You swiped at his legs first, unsurprised when he leaped back with practiced grace. The two of you fell into a dance of drawn arms and calculated shifts and you were almost unnerved by how your body moved without you willing it to.

Cassian had said that muscle memory would play a role.

It seemed to be the only thing driving you.

You went for his knees, but in a way that maneuvered past his wings.

You used his shadows as cover, taking advantage of their familiarity with you and cloaking yourself in their mist.

Azriel swung a halfhearted punch at your shoulder and you bypassed the motion, grabbing his wrist and twisting at his back.

It felt right. Your actions were not your own but they were ingrained in your being.

This was your body.

Something that remained unchanged.

In your newfound joy, you missed the open palm Azriel carefully directed at your chest. The impact caught you off guard, stealing your breath from your lungs as you were pushed to the ground. As your back hit the floor, another shocking burst of air was ripped from you.

You laid frozen for a moment before a shadow cast over your body, the sun no longer beating down on your skin. Through the ringing in your ears, Azriel’s voice flowed through.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—y/n, take a breath.” A scarred hand rubbed along your clavicle. “Breathe. You’re okay. Breathe.”

A startling gasp of oxygen entered your lungs. You were fine, completely unharmed, only shocked and disoriented. Azriel bowed his head as you continued to circulate the air into your body, and it was then that you saw it.

A chain hung between you, dangling from his neck and brushing against your chin. It swayed back and forth, a grounding point as you blinked back the tears lining your eyes. The ring glinted in the sun, rubbing against the golden chain, looking as if it did not belong there.

Azriel tracked your gaze as he raised his head, looking down at the object of your attention. He sat back on his ankles and the diamond followed him, resting close to his chest.

You raised yourself to your elbows. “Who’s—” You coughed. Azriel winced. “Is that yours?”

A stupid question, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. A guarded look passed over the Shadowsinger’s face and you regretted it instantly. He reached up and clutched the necklace in a closed fist.

“No,” he responded. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t release the ring.

“I’m okay,” you confirmed. “I’m not hurt. It just knocked the wind out of me.”

Azriel nodded. A grim line formed between his brows.

“Hey! She alright?” Cassian called. He had moved clear across the roof when you began to spar with Azriel, mentioning something about inventory or knives or something you hadn’t paid attention to. You had been too focused on the warmth you felt from being so close to Azriel’s skin.

The sound of Cassian’s voice did nothing to break the hold Azriel’s eyes had on you.

Another beat of silence passed.

The wind blew a strand of his hair across his forehead.

“I—”

“I have a mission. I was supposed to meet with Rhys before midday.” He spoke the words apologetically but his hand shook when it lowered to his knee.

The sun was already past the high point in the sky. It was no longer midday.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I want to thank you for—”

“Don’t thank me. Please, just—Be careful. I have to go.”

A quiet collection of parting words fell from your lips and Aziel twitched, looking as if he would move forward but thinking better of it.

But you had thoughts too, and they worked against Azriel’s

You raised to your knees and brushed the hair on his forehead back, a small smile gracing your face, trying so hard to melt some of the tension that had grown between you. Azriel’s breath caught as you moved, but you only doubled down, softly dragging your nails along his scalp.

He shuddered, eyes falling shut for a brief, unguarded moment.

His shadows consumed him.

Azriel was gone.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel angst #acotar #acotar fanfiction #fanfic

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forever-rogue · 2 days

Note

you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…

i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!

AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; gun violence

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.

More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.

You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.

The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.

“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”

“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”

“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”

“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”

“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”

“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”

“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.

You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed.

He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.

“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”

“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice.

“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”

“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”

“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”

“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”

“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”

“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”

“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”

“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”

“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”

You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.

“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”

“Darlin’-”

“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”

Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father. Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.

“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”

“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”

“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”

“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”

“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”

“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”

“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday. She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”

“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”

“Hmm?”

“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.

“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”

“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”

“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”

You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.

But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy.

“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”

“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down.

“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”

“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.

“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”

“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”

“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”

“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”

“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d be enjoying this, “but I will.”

“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground.

It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming.

Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.

“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”

“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”

Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.

“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head.

“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”

“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”

“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”

He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately.

Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.

You took it without hesitation.

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout #fallout fic #fallout prime #walton goggins

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 3 days

Text

Catstarion

Sorry for the slow uploads, been going out with friends and working for a bit but here's the next one, inspired by @bg-brainrot's post here. Thank you for the idea!

As you set your cup down, ready for another round of wine, you sense something, no, someone staring intently at you. Turning around, you find Astarion standing at the stairs leading up to the rooms, ruby red eyes piercing into your very soul as he stares, arms resting on the banister.

You’ve known him long enough to know what this means so with a sigh, you thank the bartender for his hospitality, excuse yourself from your increasingly drunk group of companions and head over to the stairs.

The vampire grins when he sees you approaching, gently pulling you to one side by your arm.

“Already turning in for the night, my sweet?” His fingers trail up your arm, lips whispering in your ear. The tips of your ears burn, feeling his words ghost over them.

“So it seems,” you reply. “Care to join me?”

The corners of his lips curve upwards, a sparkle in his eyes as he takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and gently takes the lead, thumb running over the back of your palm. His wordless answer brings a small smile to your face and you let him guide you, annoyance left at the bar counter.

He turns the corner and opens the door to his room, ushering you in before closing the door behind him. He remains standing at the door as you make your way to the bed, getting comfortable before patting the spot next to you but he doesn’t move.

Raising an eyebrow, you tuck yourself under the covers before patting the pillow next to yours and yet he refuses to budge. Well, third time’s the charm, right? You open your arms and he immediately shoots over, burying himself in your embrace. Amused, you chuckle, which sends reverberations through him. He happily hums in response, shifting so that you have easy access to the entirety of his hair and grabs one of your hands, dropping it on the top his head.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” you snort as you begin to run your fingers through his soft white curls. He lets out a sigh of contentment, basking in the familiar rhythm of your fingers combing his locks, massaging his scalp along the way. The gentle movements start to lull him into a trance and he feels his eyes begin to close, his grip on your clothes loosening but then you do the unthinkable.

You shift.

Immediately his eyes snap open and he turns to glower up at you. You raise your hands in surrender, eyeing him warily as he scowls.

“My love, please do not interrupt my trance again.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“It better not.”

With a huff, he turns, stretching out across your legs like a cat before curling back up, feeling your fingers continue their movements through his hair. He loves it when you do this, when you let him trance whilst resting on you without making a single fuss even though you have little to no intention of going to sleep yourself. He loves how you don’t mind carving out time for him amidst your busy schedule, you could always ignore him until you were done drinking but you always responded to his call, putting aside your own needs and wants for him. He knew he could ask anything of you and you would do it, without crossing the boundaries the both of you had set at the start of your relationship of course.

To him, you always had something better to do than attend to his petty whining but to you, he always came first and he still couldn’t fathom why. Maybe one day he would, perhaps if he sat you down and talked to you about it, he would understand, but that would be after The Absolute was defeated and the worms were removed. He was becoming more positive about the party’s prospects in a fight against The Absolute, although he preferred hiding such feelings.

As your fingers continue to work their magic in his hair, his thoughts drift to the many ways you’ve upended his life. You’ve shown him what it means to love, what it means to be genuine, what it means to care about others. You’ve added to his life, and changed things that were already in his life. You’d made it your whole mission to help him associate actions that once caused him pain and misery with something more pleasant, the only reason why he could slip into a trance whilst you ran your fingers through his hair. Back then, such an action always came with —

Cough.

Astarion groans, reaching up to poke your cheek, “I’m trying to trance here, love. A little peace and quiet would be nice.”

“Sorry,” you pout, giving him the puppy dog eyes he can never resist and he lets the matter slide, returning back to his thoughts and attempt to trance.

You’re always careful to not pull his hair, with knots always being gently untied either with your fingers or a comb should one be nearby. You’re also the only one he trusts to take care of his hair, whether it be washing or helping to maintain it.

He feels you rest your free hand on his waist, the warmth from your palm spreading through his cold undead body and feels the urge to slip into a trance wash over him once more. Knowing he is safe in your arms, for nothing will be able to hurt him when you’re around, he lets the urge take hold, readying himself for whatever nightmares could plague his rest.

That is if you didn’t sneeze right there and then.

Astarion clicks his tongue, refusing to even open his eyes and exclaims, “Gods, how am I supposed to trance in these conditions?”

He buries his face into your thighs, putting up a dramatic show of angrily muttering under his breath while you apologise, struggling to hold in your laughter.

“Come on Astarion. If you want to trance properly, you should’ve just told me to go to sleep!”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to do…this!” He gestures vaguely in the direction of your hand which is still buried beneath his white curls, letting out yet another huff.

“You’ll have to choose one then, Star. I can’t seem to do both.” There’s mirth in your voice and for a moment Astarion wonders if you’re just toying with him but then the look in your eyes reassures him and he lets out a sigh of resignation, sitting up so that you can get into a comfortable position to sleep.

“Fine. Sleep next to me, my love.” He wraps you in a cocoon made from his arms, nuzzling into your neck and feels his fangs press against your skin — the only barrier between him and your blood. Yet you don’t flinch, trusting that he will only bite after asking you for permission and snuggle against him under the covers.

“Stop spending so much time with them,” you hear him mumble. So that was why he was acting so weirdly all night.

“You have me all to yourself every night, don’t you worry.” You press a peck to the top of his head, tucking him tighter against your body.

“And you’ll have me for all eternity too.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #bg3 fluff #bg3 fic

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chuusmuts · 1 day

Text

sleepover at your boyfriend!kazuha's house

smut. fingering (bcs i suck at writing other than this), (slightly) possessive/yandere kazuha. not proofread.

no words about gensin. just going crazy over an's new commissioned song.

you were supposedly having a sleepover at your boyfriend!kazuha's house. with his suggestion, both of you came to a decision to have a deep late night talk before sleeping. whilst you were engrossed in his tale, you didn't realise his hand was playing with the band of your pants. his mind had become a little fuzzy after having the need to touch you, but you looked so cute listening to him, with you biting your lower lip so he couldn't just put an end to his story.

as he continued talking, his hand slowly creeped up inside your pants. and as soon as you felt his fingertips brush your cunt, you let out a quiet gasp as you fought the urge to buck your hips and moan. slowly, his fingers grazed lightly on your pussy before starting to rub your clit while his other hand rested on your hip. in this moment, he was still talking, but not about his previous story, he was whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

your pants was pulled passed your butt as he worked his fingers on your pussy like magic, stroking your clit in a slow motion and teasing your fold. your hand was put over your mouth to hide your moans, but oh, you really couldn't hold it anymore as your breath kept hitching. his fingers felt so good, too good, and the way he whispered sweet nothings into your ear only made you even wetter. after a period of time, you struggled to keep your legs open as they kept trembling.

kazuha could feel it, how wet you were and how tight and hot you were down there, your body practically begging for his attention. he leaned down and nuzzled his nose into your neck, inhaling your scent and sucking on your skin, leaving a few obvious hickeys before moving up to your ear. his voice was low and husky as he spoke in a gentle manner, barely above a whisper. "sweetheart, i can't stop myself from touching you. you're so unbelievably hot and sexy."

he really tried to resist himself every time he saw you wearing nothing but only a thin layer of white shirt and short pants, no panties, no bra and whatsoever. and tonight, he finally snapped. as he moved his finger up and down, he curled his fingers and put more pressure, his nails scraping against your skin. it was almost unbearably intense, but he knew you could handle it because you're such a good girl all for him and seeing you squirming and writhing beside him, still trying to hold back your moans, he couldn't resist but to plunge two fingers into your tight, wet hole and teased your sweet spot in which he succeeded making you whimper.

he groaned, unable to help himself, as he continued to move his fingers inside you, feeling your walls squeeze around him. his fingers twisted and turned inside you, his thumb brushing against your g-spot, causing an involuntary shiver to run through your body. he looked up at you again, meeting your eyes as he did so, and his lips parted slightly as he watched you squirm and writhe. the thought of filling your hole with his cock, filled him with an insatiable need that he just couldn't ignore. as he began to thrust his fingers faster and harder, he spoke once more, this time his voice deeper and rougher than ever before. it was full of raw, unbridled passion as he whispered in your ear, "i want to fuck you badly, baby. please let me take you right here and now, i need you so much."

hearing no response from you pissed him just a little. but when he heard you accidentally let out a clear and loud whimper, calling his name, he took the initiative and wasted time getting on top of you, straddling you while still scissoring your sensitive cunt. the sight of your face contorted in pleasure was amazing and he knew it wouldn't be long before you cum on his fingers hence why he plunged the third finger, successfully making you moaned his name again.

breathing heavily, his eyes never left yours as he fucked you with his fingers. he could feel your walls closing around him, the heat of your body enveloping him as he slid in and out of you. with each stroke, he felt his own arousal grow, his cock hardening beneath his boxers. he swore he could hear your heartbeat echoing in his ears, a steady drumming that matched the rhythm of his fingers. he loved how you always seemed to respond to his touch, especially when he played with your sensitive spots, he loved it when body shook with anticipation.

he crashed his lips into yours roughly, his tongue lapping at your lips hungrily before inviting his tongue inside your mouth and playing with yours as he continued to work his fingers inside you. with his free hand, he reached down and grabbed your thigh, holding it firmly in place as he thrusted his fingers deep into your pussy, making sure they hit your g-spot with each movement. he groaned into the kiss as he felt his balls slapping against your thighs with each thrust. a sweet, adorable scream keened from your throat when you finally came from your high only to come out in a muffled moan into his mouth. you gripped on his shoulder tightly as cum spilled nonstop onto his fingers.

his lips curved into a smile as he felt you clenched down on his fingers, your muscles tightening around him. he looked down at your face, your eyes closed as you cried out in pleasure before kissing you again. his tongue slid along the inside of your mouth as he pulled out his fingers and shoved them into your mouth, making you tasted yourself and choked slightly. he grinned at you as you licked his fingers obediently before getting off of you, taking his boxers off and revealing his already rock hard cock. grabbing your clothes harshly, he took them off before tossing them to who knows where.

he spread your legs wider and positioned his leaking cock at your entrance, teasing you a little and you couldn't help yourself but to moaned unabashedly, rutting and bucking your hips. his thumb found its way on your clit again giving you more pleasure by feverishly rubbing on it. as he buried his cock inside you, his lips connected with yours once more, muffling any of your moans trying to get out while still stroking your clit. you could feel the fatness of his cock stretching you out and filing you up as he began to thrust slowly, wanting you to adjust to his size beforehand as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

his big and strong hands held you close, keeping you close to him as his heart beat wildly while looking down at you. your soft breasts pressed against his chest as he held you in his arms, his thumbs rubbing against your clit and your inner thighs. his eyes burning with passion as he thrusted inside you, his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust. he smirked as he watched you try to keep up with his pace, your hips bucking and rolling against his as he continued to push his cock into your womb. the sight of your face was undeniably mouth-watering, your face flushed with pleasure and your eyes half-closed as he continued to thrust, your body shaking with the force of his movements.

your body was so perfect, so fucking beautiful. he loved everything about you, how your breasts jiggled with each movement, and how your nipples hardened under his touch. he stroked your clit with his thumb as your moans grew louder and louder. when you moaned loud, very loud, he just knew he had hit the right spot. you whined, your legs around his waist loosening though he quickly grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him so he could get his cock deeper inside your tight pussy until it hit the spongy spot inside you.

he groaned in bliss, his voice low and rough as he gazed at you with his eyes dark and hungry. leaning in closer, his lips barely brushed against your ear as he spoke. "fuck, baby, you are so fucking hot. i can't wait to fill you up with my seed." he grounded his teeth together, his eyes flashing as he continued to thrust into you, his cock hitting your cervix with each powerful motion that the bed made a creak sound. "please, please, please let me fuck you so hard. i need to fill you up with my cum, to feel you squirt on my cock, to see your tits bouncing as I fuck you." he moaned.

feeling your walls clamp down more on his cock, his movements began to get sloppier and he could feel a knot forming in his lower stomach. you squirmed more underneath him, and your body shook violently, your nails dugging into his shoulders, and a loud scream of his name left your lips as you reached your high. he picked up his pace pace again after you squirted, and shortly after, a load of hot seed was shot into your womb as he squeezed your breasts to relieve the pain from his body.

the feeling of his cum shooting into your womb was indescribable. sweat covered his body and his breathing was heavy as he felt his entire body trembled with the power of his orgasm. he collapsed on top of you, burying his face between your tits, his body shaking with the intensity of his climax as he continued to shoot his seed into your womb. he looked up at you, his eyes still filled with passion and desire and his heart pounding wildly. his cock continued to twitch and throb as he tried to catch his breath. he chuckled lightly, his voice hoarse and low as he looked at you. "i think i might have fucked you too hard," he said, his brow furrowed in concern as he looked up at you through the space between your boobs. "are you okay? do you think you can go for round two?"

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin imagines #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha imagines #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x female reader #genshin kazuha #sleepover at boyfriend!kazuha's house

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 day

Text

Awaiting Miracles ~ BC [MATURE WARNING]

WORD COUNT: 1.5K

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

GENRE: after babysitting the couple want a baby, cute, established relationships, SMUT MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, Needy chan, Breeding kink, pregnacy tropes

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

As midnight draped its comforting veil over the world, you and Chan found yourselves in the peaceful embrace of your cosy living room. Lily, Felix's precious baby, nestled in your arms, her soft coos breaking the silence like delicate melodies. It had been a long day of trying to get into the swing of looking after a baby but you and Chan had gotten into the swing of it and you thought you were nailing it now.

Maybe it helped that Felix and Lyla had left you step-by-step instructions on everything that you needed to do with his daughter and you understood why. It was the first time he would be leaving his daughter and he was nervous about it - as any new parents would be.

"Sleeping angel," You whispered, running your finger over Lily's cheeks and smiling to yourself getting lost in your own thoughts.

Before, you hadn't really thought of yourself as a family kind of person but as you sat here with Chan you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was your daughter - or son - that you were holding.

Chan stole a glance at you, his heart swelling with an emotion that felt too big for his chest. For a while, he'd been wanting to talk to you about having kids of your own and this was giving him the final push to do so.

"You're incredible with her, you know," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips as you slowly walked over to the travel cot and laid her down, smiling at her before you looked up, your eyes glowing with warmth.

"It's easy when she's this adorable," You replied, gently rocking the travel cot back and forth. Chan chuckled softly, moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind, leaving a gentle kiss on your shoulder as you felt your body heating up.

"I think it's more than that," he said, his voice laced with admiration. "You have this... way about you. You make it seem effortless." If your body wasn't hot before it was practically burning fire now from the comment and you ducked your head a little.

"I just love babies," you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips. Chan reached out, tracing the curve of your cheek with his fingertips.

"And I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Your gaze met his, your eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion, it was obvious that the two of you were thinking the same thing about having one of your own.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. Chan smirked to himself as he ran his hand over your lower back, just enjoying being close to you like this.

The next night the two of you were cuddled in bed, your head laying on Chan's shoulder when you noticed he was acting a little weird and had been ever since the two of you had been alone. He was touching you more and whimpering whenever you would kiss his chest or shoulder, the two places that turned him on.

"Channie," You whisper, running your fingers over his chest and smirking to yourself. All of this had started after Lily had gone back home and you knew what it meant, you knew he wanted a child just as much as you did.

"Yeah?" He quizzed, his cheeks blushing deeply, you looked up at him before kissing him softly, moving to sit on his lap. You whimper a little grinding down against his already hard dick, you knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

"Yn..." Chan breathed out, he'd been needy all day and he knew you could feel how hard he was under his shorts, how badly he wanted you. Your lips smirked against his as you grind down on him, earning a moan from him as his hands tightened around your waist.

Your kiss grew more passionate, your hands roaming over his naked chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips and you ran your hand over his abs, making him blush deeper. Small moans came from him as you continued to rock your hips against him,

"I want you to cum inside of me," You whisper in his ear, biting down on his ear as his hips jerk upward a little, his eyes widening.

"W...What?" He groans, his eyes rolling back a little as you continue to roll your hips against him,

"I need you to fill me up Channie. I need you to get me pregnant." You whimper, your voice is seductive as you slow your hips down against his, his hands clutching onto you tightly as he wordlessly nods his head, struggling to find the words to continue.

"I need you now," You told him as you stripped your shirt from over your head, Chan's hands instantly went to your breasts pulling on them before he wrapped his mouth around one, sucking softly. Your head rolls back softly, only Chan could make you this needy for him with something as simple as sucking your breasts, he was the only person you got sensitive for.

"Chan," You moan out, rolling your hips down. You wanted him badly, you didn't want to be teased you just needed him inside of you right away.

The two of you quickly undressed until you were naked, you carefully made your way back onto his lap and lined his cock up with your entrance, smirking as you saw just how brightly he was blushing.

"Please...P...Please Yn, I need you, I need this," He begged desperately as you slowly sunk down onto him, inch by torturous inch, your moans growing louder as you sunk all the way down onto him.

"Fuck," You whimper, your head resting on Chan's as he held you, licking his lip slowly as he resisted the urge to cum right there and then.

"I need your cum, Channie. Need it so bad," You whimper to him, rocking slowly back and forth on him as he screwed his eyes shut.

"S-Shit baby...P-Please, I- I can't last long if you keep saying things like that," He moans, you smirk at him a little. You didn't care how long he lasted, you enjoyed that he was this needy for you, and it somehow got you off on that fact.

You didn't give him what he wanted though as you started to bounce up and down on his cock, your moans growing louder as Chan rolled his head back against the headboard, his teeth sinking down into his teeth as he whimpered a little.

"Need you to breed me, Channie. Please, I wanna be so full." That was the straw that broke the camel's back as Chan couldn't stop himself: as soon as he heard the words come from you he was done for. You continued to ride him, moaning his name out as you reached down to rub your clit. The rush of euphoria was too strong for you to ignore any longer as you came, clenching around him tightly causing his hips to buck, pushing into you even deeper as his cock twitched and he groaned.

"F-Fuck," He breathes out, his chest rising and falling so fast as you laid down against him, whimpering as you stayed perfectly still on him.

"If it doesn't work at least we'll have fun practising," You giggled at him, making his cheeks flame.

As the moments stretched into eternity, you and Chan found yourselves huddled together in the bathroom, your hearts pounding with anticipation. It had been a few months of trying to get pregnant and this was yet another test you were taking together. It didn't matter how many you took the wait always seemed to be longer than normal. You clutched the pregnancy test tightly in your trembling hands, your breath caught in your throat as you waited.

Chan wrapped his arms around you, his touch a reassuring anchor in the sea of uncertainty. Ever since you'd started trying he had been there with every test, bringing you new ones, different brands, whatever you needed he was there.

"Whatever happens, we're in this together," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the tense silence. "We'll keep trying, no matter what."

You nodded, your eyes brimming with tears of hope and fear, you didn't want it to be negative, you liked practising with Chan but you wanted your family to start.

"I know," you whispered, your voice trembling a little as you tried to think of what you could say. You'd been wondering if it was your fault you weren't pregnant yet. Maybe there was something wrong with you.

"But what if..." Before you could finish your sentence, your gaze fell upon the small plastic stick in your hand, and your heart skipped a beat. With trembling hands, you turned it over, your breath catching in your throat as you read the unmistakable words:

Pregnant.

Tears of joy streamed down your cheeks as you looked up at Chan, your heart overflowing with love.

"Channie," you whispered, your voice filled with wonder, "it's positive." Chan's eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the joyful news, his heart swelling with a mixture of elation and disbelief.

"Really?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with joy. "We're going to be parents?" You nodded, your face radiant with happiness.

"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling with excitement as you stared up at him. "We're going to have a baby."

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#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #bang chan smut #chan #chan x reader #chan imagine #chan imagines #chan smut

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romanticintheory · 1 day

Note

Hello!!!! I was wondering if you could write an angst with Ghost/Simon where the reader was too clingy after having a bad day and he lashed out on her but he didn't think anything of it because the next day the reader was acting normal. He only noticed after a few weeks when reader became more distant and quiet. Feel free to ignore if it's too weird or you don't like it!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

this one is dedicated to all the ones who were hurt and never got that apology. hope this alleviates the pain.

simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader || masterlist || request rules

-there was no one specific reason as to why today turned out to be a bad day. it just was.

-from accidentally burning yourself trying to make breakfast after waking up late to having to deal with the most insufferable customers, it just wasn't your day today.

-but it was okay, because you had simon to return to when everything was said and done.

-the frown on your face immediately softens the moment you see him walk through the door to your shared home. as soon as he pulls his mask and boots off, you make your way toward him and engulf him in a tight hug.

-you are painfully (but understandably) unaware of the thin veil of his patience and the frustration that had been brewing within him in the past few hours. he half-heartedly returns the embrace.

-"how was your day, si?" you ask him gently.

-"fine," he responds shortly, hoping there isn't more to the conversation.

-even after you pull away from him, you trail behind him as he moves around the house. this wasn't irregular behavior from either of you. simon wasn't usually the most talkative person in the room, anyway, but he loved to hear your voice. that was one of the things he loved about the two of you together; you filled the space he couldn't.

-today, though, was different. he was pissed off at all different kinds of people. for some reason, couldn't bring himself to tell you that he was having a bad day and needed some space, especially because it was evident you were having a bad one yourself.

-so when he turned on his heel after listening to your rambles for as much as he could take and lashed out at you, he tried not to think about the unbearable amount of guilt seeping into his veins.

-"would you just stop clinging to me for five minutes? god, 's like i can't get away from you or your constant fucking talking!"

-you had heard stories, mostly from simon, about the kind of man he could be when pushed to his limit. mostly, it was of violent, physical acts when it came to work or protecting the ones he loved. other times, he would tell you about when he'd lash out at others just like he did to you, now, and he always told it to you with a quiet fear. there was an unspoken meaning to him telling you about the times he's acted out: i don't want to do the same to you. i don't want to hurt you.

-but here he was, towering over you with a coldness in his eyes and a dryness in his throat from the sheer volume of his words.

-averting your gaze from his, you let out a meek, "'m sorry," and watch as he slams the door in front of your face.

-when he slinks into bed next to your sleeping form later that night, ridden with shame and guilt, he misses the tear-stained face hidden from him. after his outburst, you felt like all of the energy in your body had been taken away from you and retreated to bed early. you cried on and off for hours.

-you always thought you had a clinging problem. it was an insecurity you carried with you starting from childhood. friends would become acquaintances and family would keep you at arms-length. after years of believing the issue was you, simon walked into your life and told you different.

-if you stopped talking because you thought he stopped listening and was uninterested, he'd always turn back to you and genuinely ask why you stopped talking. whenever you apologized for hugging him for too long or asking to spend time with him for the third time that week, he'd always tilt his head at you and say in that low, sincere voice, "but i love you?"

-for all those reasons, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt despite how much he hurt you. so, when he tries to bring it up the next morning, you do your best to brush it off. he was having a bad day. that was all. no need to make a fuss.

-"listen, love," he calls to you as you pop your piece of toast out of the toaster. "about last night-"

-completely disregarding his words, you look at the clock and stuff your phone into your pocket. "it's fine. honestly, simon," you tell him with the best smile you could muster. "i'm gonna be late. i'll see you tonight."

-you were so adamant on getting out as quick as possible that simon had no time to respond. he thought to himself that maybe he was making a bigger deal out of it than you. maybe there were no hard feelings and you were completely fine. after all, he was always overly worried for you, anyway.

-so, when you came home, he didn't mention it. it was as if last night didn't happen, and the two of you were perfectly fine. there were times where simon thought you were being a bit more restrained in your movements or words, but he tried to chalk it up to just him being overly paranoid. you said it was fine, so it was better not to push you on it, right?

-at first, you were doing really good at keeping yourself from overthinking the situation. however, as time went on and you paid more attention to how you acted around your boyfriend, you began to wonder if you were really that clingy.

-as the week progressed, your state of mind would deteriorate. what if it wasn't just a bad day? what if that was what he thought the entire time and was just waiting for the right moment to tell you? had he just been trying to cheer you up about your insecurities the entire time? and if he was, how much of this relationship was even real, then?

-the more you thought about it, the more distant you became. the last thing you wanted to do was make simon feel like he was being suffocated by you. you slowly stopped initiating physical affection with him, restricted talking about your day to a few sentences, and tried to answer simon's questions in one word when possible.

-he notices. of course he notices, it was like a stranger was living where you were supposed to be, and he missed it. he missed you.

-he asks you about your change when you're getting ready for bed, pulling the rest of your nightshirt over your head. despite being exhausted from work and looking like you were sitting out in the wind, he thought you never looked more ethereal than you did now.

-"(y/n)," he said.

-"hm?" you hummed to him, not turning toward his direction. you sat down on the edge of your side of the bed, turning off the lamp at the same time.

-your lack of emotional presence was starting to eat at him. he sat down next to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and forcing you to lean toward him.

-"you alright?"

-"yes. why?"

-"i dunno, you just seem..." his eyes tried to find yours, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "quiet."

-it was then that you looked at him, and it was scary to simon because he couldn't make out the emotion in your expression. there was nothing he could read.

-"isn't that-" you had to pause to try and stabilize your wavering voice. "isn't that what you wanted?"

-there was a tension-filled silence that settled in the room, and for a second you were worried that what you said was somehow incredibly offensive.

-finally, he chokes out, "i'm sorry."

-again, you try to muster up a smile. "it's fine, i already told you. i should've known you wanted space."

-"no."

-"no?"

-"it was my fault," he explains. "how could you 'ave known? i didn't tell you i wasn't in the mood that day, and that's not even considering the way i talked to you. i shouldn't have- nothing excuses what i said to you."

-still, you were convinced you were to blame. "well, i have a history of being clingy, so," you were trying to come up with more excuses for him. for most of your life, you had decided that you were the issue. it couldn't be any other way, right?

-"i know. it's one of the things i love you for," he says quietly. "not to sound cheesy but it's what makes you you, and i don't want you to lose that jus' 'cause i'm still shitty at communication."

-you knew in some capacity he was right. there was no excuse for how he talked to you, but the next words you wanted to say evaded you.

-simon thought about talking some more. instead, he grasped your back with one hand and slid his other underneath your legs, repositioning you on his lap. it was like a silent plea from him, a way of proving that he wanted to be close to you just as much as you wanted to be close to him.

-"you're sure i'm not too clingy?" you ask tentatively.

-"positive," he reassures you, rubbing small circles on your back with his thumb. "you wanna know something?"

-"what?"

-"if i wasn't so fucked up-"

-"you're not fucked up."

-"right." you never let him talk badly about himself. that was something he was still getting used to after all this time. being loved and learning to love himself. "well, if i didn't grow up the way i did and became the person i am, i'd probably be way clingier than you."

-"that's impossible," you deny, unconsciously letting yourself lean into his touch.

-"you don't know how much i want you. if my mind and body would let me, i'd be close to you all the time, showing you the attention you deserve."

-"you give me plenty."

-"agree to disagree," he stops with the circles and pulls you impossibly closer to his body. "but 'm trying. 'm trying to learn to let you love me and to not be afraid to love you. 'm sorry, love. i stopped trying that night, and i think it'll be the death of me."

-you let his words sink in, a thoughtful look on your face.

-"next time you'll tell me, right? what you're thinking?"

-"pinkie promise," he agrees, letting the hand under your legs slide out and raise his pinkie finger toward you.

-in return, you link your pinkie with his to seal the promise, and it feels as though the heavy tension in the air has cleared away.

-"i love you," he says, feeling bold from his previous admission.

-"i love you, too." there's that smile on your face. he never realized until now how he probably couldn't live without it.

-he kisses you on the lips, and for a moment the two of you just stay there in each other's arms, forgiving the past, healing the present, and dreaming of the future together.

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redeyegrl · 1 day

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☆ crybaby ; jude bellingham

you were laid on the couch, your eyes fluttering due to the intense amounts of tiredness you were feeling whilst watching your favorite show on tv. you were wrapped around in your favorite blanket, head smushed onto the pillow that was laid underneath.

lately, these past few days haven't been too good for you. not only were you, yet again, bombarded with so much work, you were dealing with a lot emotionally. especially towards your best friend who currently is now in madrid playing for one of the biggest clubs ever.

you and jude have known each other for quite sometime but only remained as close friends. your friendship started with a follow on instagram which led to him flying you out to meet him for the first time. truly, you thought that you both might hit it off and actually become a couple but that conversation still hasn’t surfaced.

you didn’t want to be the first to tell him you liked him, but you also didn’t know if he felt the same way. even when he was flying you out, taking you to his favorite spots in madrid, holding your hands when you were both together in front of his teammates, to him giving you sneaky kisses late at night when you would stay over at his place. all of that and no sign of him wanting anything more than just being friends. call it a situationship if you will.

earlier today, you came across dating rumors regarding jude on social media and it made you almost completely unproductive. you couldn’t stop thinking about jude potentially being someone else’s boyfriend. after all, you knew you couldn’t control who someone decides to be with, but it always stung when you would hear his name attached to someone who wasn’t you.

your eyes slowly start to shut until you heard the annoying sound of your ringtone. "it's 2am, who the hell is calling me" you say incoherently. you rub your eyes to try and read the caller i.d, only to figure out it was jude. "what does he want" you say sitting up, slightly annoyed.

"hello" you respond in the most monotone voice possible. "well morning to you as well" jude replies, seemingly in a great mood. "it's 2am and i was trying to go to bed, if you don't have anything important to say, i would like to go back to sleep" you say in a hurry, rubbing your tired stressed eyes. "and what's up with you" jude laughs on the opposite end. "nothing jude im just tired. you know it's late over here" you slightly whine, knowing jude has the time saved of where you were living on his clock app.

"just wanted to let you know i'm up and about to head off to training" he tells you. well, he never did that before. nonetheless, you did find the reminder cute. "well, have fun then." you say before you were about to hang up.

"wait y/n, i have something to ask you" "he rushes to tell you. you on the other hand, truthfully didn't want to talk to anyone since you weren't in the mood. you already cried tons today, the last thing you needed was to talk to the one who made you so emotional.

"yeah go on" you allowed. "i beg you to tell me how you're feeling. are you alright?" he questions in soft tone. you could already feel the tears briming in your eyes, the heat of your cheeks starting to burn. "do you want the truth?" you whisper. "why would you lie to me?" he questions yet again.

"i'm not doing that great" you respond. you wanted to tell him you were okay so you could head off to bed, but something in you wanted to let him know you weren't. you started sniffling since crying always activates your sinuses. "y/n why are you crying? tell me what's wrong" he demanded delicately.

"i was online today" you say trying to collect yourself. "read some stuff that made me kinda sad" you say quietly, wiping away the lukewarm tears running down your cheeks using your hoodie wrist cuffs. "is that all? what do you mean" he questions, confused as to what you meant. "the dating rumors about you and --" you finally confessed.

all you could hear was jude's small laughs which made you want to cry even more. you had no clue what those laughs meant and you hated that him laughing was the way he would respond. "why are you laughing" you chuckle trying to hide your cries.

"y/n, i wouldn't be too worried about it" he confirms which made you feel a small bit alright. "if i was seeing anyone i would tell you, would i not?" he reminds you, which he was right about. "but what if you're hiding it from me" you pout, he giggled some more. "y/n, im not interested in anyone" he makes aware.

that statement made your heart sink. tears started to form all over again followed by your jaw slowly starting to quiver. "you mean that?" you ask him, hoping he would change his response. "i mean, those girls the media puts me with i'm not interested" he responds. "no, i mean, are you really not interested in anyone" you ask again, playing with the strings on your hoodie, starting to regret even picking up the phone.

"well there is this one girl who's always on my mind, and i sometimes still get nervous around her. she's so perfect in my eyes. she can get grumpy and she's always busy which annoys me. i would fly her over when i'd miss her, take her out to all of my favorite spots when she lands, we'd have secret rendezvous late at night, sleepovers at my house as well.. she's actually my best friend." he rambles as you can hear him walk his way to the car.

you started smiling just a little bit, your hand palming your entire face due to how giddy you were starting to feel. it was obvious he was talking about you. "well, i wonder who this great girl is" you playfully ask. jude laughs with you as well. "she's pretty. her name starts with a (-) and ends with (-)" he jokes, answering with the letters of your name.

"i really miss her too. thinking of bringing her over to me for two weeks. gonna maybe try and make her my girlfriend i don't know i don't know" he continues on with his playful antics. "wow, i think she would love that jude. shes so lucky" you play along, you both now laughing on the phone.

"so i'll see you next week?" he asks. you hum in response, now grateful you picked up the phone. "go to sleep y/n, i don't want to keep you up". you were very tired so all you could do was hum back. "one more thing before i let you go to sleep" he tells you, you put the phone on speaker and lay back down on the couch. "hmm" you respond.

"you're such a cry baby about me and i like that" he laughs.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #judestories!

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k4lenz · 3 days

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"poor baby.." ✮ hobie brown x fem!reader

a/n: what is up!!!! this is my first fic, AND IT IS NSFW. but i've had this idea stuck in my head and it literally won't go away so basically it's hobie being gone for a while from his universe because of a mission, and his reunion with reader (his gf) when he comes home very affectionate!! reassuring, and just hobes n reader being cutesy and in love

nsfw will be below the cut!!! if you like this, pls interact and my reqs r open <3 word count: 1.6k!! notes: smut, scratching, riding, fingering, praise, eye contact, heavy affection, soft turned rough, established relationship, no protection, pussy eating (hobie is a munch n nobody can change my mind), subspace, aftercare

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 Hobie was tired. Exhausted, really. Pulling his mask up in the dead of night as he slipped into his apartment through his bedroom window. Throwing it aside. He was just happy to be back in his universe after a draining mission, because it was somewhere where he could properly relax. With his beautiful girl. Speaking of his girl, you laid on his bed unstirring. Wearing one of his hoodies and wrapped up in the blankets, sleeping peacefully. He had been afraid to leave you all by yourself in this shithole of a universe for a week, but you'd reassured him that you'd be okay. He chuckled fondly to himself at the sight of your peaceful sleeping face, stripping himself out of his Spider-Suit and into a pair of sweatpants instead. You quietly stirred, eyes slightly opening and blinking awake. Sitting up with a soft gasp when you realized what, or rather who, was in your house. "Hobes!" You squealed, getting up and latching onto him the minute you recognized the silhouette of his wicks. Always excited to see him. This mission had been extra long, and you'd missed him. Hobie grinned, gently wrapping his arms around you and placing you back onto the bed. Climbing on top of you, the dark moonlight barely illuminating his face. "Ay, luv. Missed me?" You pressed a kiss to his lips, nodding with a cute little smile and eagerly looking up at him. Settling back under the covers with him. "Mhm. How'd the mission go?"

He grumbled at the thought of that mission, kissing you back before muttering. "Fuckin'ell, was a handful dolly. Miguel never fails to get on me nerves. Just satisfied to be back here with ya." You pulled him down and cuddled up to him. He cooed, realizing what you wanted. "Poor baby. Must've been s'lonely." He teased, moving so he was sitting up in the bed with his back against the headboard, and you were straddling him. He peppered kisses all over your face. You whined in response to the affection and teasing, pouting. He grinned, leaning your forehead against his own and noticing how pent up you seemed. "Awww. What is it? Use ya words, I know ya can. Got somethin' to tell me?" "Need you 'Obie." You mumbled under your breath, and his eyebrows raised. "Oh, 's that it? Sweet lil' ting, been worked up all the time 've been gone? Huh?" He gently started to pull up your hoodie over your head, he'd already noticed you hadn't worn anything underneath earlier.

He cooed as you whimpered in reply, you didn't even need to use words. His hands slowly slid up your thigh all the way to your already glistening cunt. "Christ, y'really do want me. Don't think I even need to prep you. Gettin' wet at just the sight of me now?" But he did decide to prep you anyway, finger circling your clit before gently sliding down and into you. The cool metal of his rings on his hand making you shudder, a sigh escaping you. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as your body tensed, breathing heavily against his skin. Squirming as his finger curled inside your dripping entrance. He let you adjust to being stretched out, taking it slow before adding a second finger. Listening to your shaky moans as you got overwhelmed. The sound of your noises filling the room. "Takin' me fingers so well. Knew this gorgeous pussy craved me. You were the only thing on my mind." You loved him, and this moment. Those calloused rough fingers you'd seen him use to play guitar about a million times now stroking your g-spot. You were his 'warmup' as he called it, sometimes using you before a show to get his fingers ready. His thumb came up to rub your clit again, making you squeal. You grinded your hips down, and he took that as a sign you were more then ready. Pulling you into a passionate heated kiss as he slipped his fingers out of you, to quickly pull his sweatpants and boxers down. His throbbing erection springing free, hard and already leaking with precum. The sight of it almost made you want to get on your knees. "See what 'y do to me, baby?" He nudged your legs further apart with his hand, then lined himself up. You writhed as you felt his tip press against your aching slit. He moved to gently gripped your hips, slowly sinking you down. "Ffffuck, Attagirl." You let out a soft whine, always struggling to take him because he was just so big. You swore it felt like he was impaling you, and he liked it. He left a hand on your hips, the other hand wandering up to your chin to force your doe eyes to look at who was fucking you. "Eyes on me, doll. You know the rules." He spoke sweetly, a surprise, considering most of the time it was done harshly in a destroying-your-insides kind of way. This was soft, instead. He purred when you managed to look at him and his thumb soothingly rubbed your face. Starting to slowly thrust up into you as you sputtered out a cry. "Ssshhhh, that's it. Good girl. You can do it." He reassured, as you wrapped your arms around his neck to cling to him. Wanting him to be as close as possible, the sound of your wet cunt slapping against his dick only serving to make you both more turned on. You slowly started riding him on your own, but his other hand on your hips stayed to help lift you so you wouldn't get too tired too quickly, his own hips thrusting up to meet yours as well. "Missed you s'much.." You slurred desperately and he chuckled, observing your eyes as they clouded with lust. "I know, I know you did, sweet thing. Don't worry, I gotcha." Grinding yourself down onto his cock like your life depended on it. Clawing at his back and moaning when his tip hit that perfect spot, sending shudders through your body. He let out a soft grunt, as you clenched around him like a vice. With each piston of his dick, you became more of a mindless thing. He lets out a hiss as you continue to weakly lift yourself up and down, and he decided to switch your positions. Quickly pinning you underneath him on the bed and starting a deep pace. "S alright, baby. Relax. You did so well, j'st gonna take care of you now." He whispered into your ear as you wriggled and cried out. "God, your pretty little pussy is so tight. Tryna fuckin' milk me." He kissed down your neck, both hands now gripping her waist.

Your glossed over eyes stared up at him as he pounded into you, feeling him twitch. "Good fuckin' girl. Huh? Gonna let me fill you?" He laughed as you nodded eagerly, too fucked out to form a single thought. He gave one last push, before spilling his seed deep inside you. Panting as he let his head droop against yours, his grunts and groans slowly stopping. You pouted as he pulled out, managing a soft- "Obie? What're you-" as he settled between your legs with a 'Shhh'. Quickly getting to work. You wrapped your legs around his head, pulling him imminently closer to the spot you desperately needed him. His tongue lapped at your wet heat like he was a starving man, unrelenting and desperate. Mewls quickly spilling from your mouth as your slick and his cum dripped down your slit, now mixed with his saliva. You arched your back, already close from just how quickly Hobie had gone from railing you and abusing your cervix to eating you out like nothing else mattered. His tongue, pierced, circled your clit making you practically scream. Your hands scrambled to grip the sheets tightly beside you. "Hobie!" Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you reached that climax, letting out a loud whimper. You could've sworn you were seeing stars as white hot pleasure rushed through you. As you slowly came down from the high, you mumbled gibberish, tears streaming from your eyes. Hobie quickly gave your cunt one last lick before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close, realizing you'd slipped into subspace. Pressing kisses to your sobbing face. "S alright my darlin'. You did so good for me today. So 'appy to be back wit'cha." He whispered in a soft reassuring tone, as you cuddled up to him. Craving his warmth. "I love you so much." He keened and nuzzled into your neck, showing you all the appreciation he knew you needed. He liked nothing better then seeing your little face so out of it. He gently picked you and a water bottle up and carried you to the bathroom, sitting you on the counter and grabbing a cloth. Running it under warm water as he cleaned both him and yourself off. Your lips managed to find his, and he smiled and kissed you back. Filling up the water bottle in the mean time and pressing it to your mouth. "Drink." He commanded, though it was gentle. Your boyfriend loved you, and taking care of you was always his priority. "Good. Y'want to go back to bed? 'S pretty late now." "Mhm." You replied quietly, and next thing you knew the water bottle sat on the bedside table next to you and you were wrapped up under the thick fluffy blankets and Hobie. Shutting your eyes as they drooped and silently appreciating having your Spider-Man back home.

#atsv x reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x you #hobie brown x fem!reader #smut #first fic #hobie brainrot

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mirage-aera · 3 days

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•°. *࿐ Late night calls || JH86

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : ANGEL - Toby Mai

Jack Hughes x Reader

Synopsis: Days when you're apart are always tough. They get lonely without your other half. Nightly calls make those days slightly better. Especially when he falls asleep after a tiring day.

Word count: 822

Masterlist

Your phone starts ringing. Jack’s contact name shows up on your phone. You answer the call and the familiar sound of the call getting connected chimes. “Hi, baby.” Jack’s tired voice rings out through your phone. You get comfortable in bed before replying. “Hey. You looked great today. How are you feeling?” You ask softly after praising him. He lets out a low chuckle. “It’s a win, so I feel great. You were watching? I thought you said you were going to be busy.” You hum in response. “I was.” You pause, a cheeky grin forming on your face. “But I happened to be watching when you scored.” You can already tell he’s rolling his eyes at your remark. “I’m glad you were watching for a few seconds.” He retorts. You laugh, “come on. I might be busy, but I’ll always be watching you play when I can.” He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he smiles behind the phone. He’s immensely grateful that you always manage to watch him play, whether that’s on the TV or laptop, or when you show up at the home or away games sporting your devils’ jersey with the number 86 and the name Hughes.

He yawns quietly. “Thank you for watching. Wish you were here though.” He says softly. “Want to switch to video call? I want to see your pretty face.” He adds. You chuckle but press the camera button, requesting to change the call to video. He instantly accepts. His face fills your screen. He shifts in bed before propping his phone up on an extra pillow. He smiles when he sees you wearing his shirt to bed. “Are you tired?” You ask quietly, concern laced in your voice. He blinks a few times, trying to blink the sleep away. “A little. I’m fine though, I’m not falling asleep on you.” You raise an eyebrow. Knowing him, he’ll be doing the exact opposite. “Alright, if you say so. If you’re tired you don’t have to stay on call with me. We can talk some more in the morning.” You offer him. He immediately shakes his head. “I want to talk to you. I miss you.” He says stubbornly. Your heart swells at his last comment. You miss him too, a lot. You’re not apart from each other often. You’re usually by his side whenever he goes away on his roadies. However, this time you had some affairs that you needed to deal with. Hence why you didn’t go with him.

You talk for a while as the night becomes darker by the hour. You can see that he’s starting to fall asleep. “You’re tired. Go to sleep.” You try convincing him. He hums, “in a little bit.” He says stubbornly yet again. A couple of minutes pass while you’re talking about your day. You realize it’s getting quieter and quieter on his side. The occasional hums and shuffling from him turn to pure silence. You look at him through the screen. Only to see his eyes closed, arms tucked into him, and his mouth slightly agape. He’s sleeping. He actually fell asleep on you. Even though he so stubbornly told you he wasn’t going to. He did end up doing the opposite. You don’t hang up on him and you certainly don’t wake him up. He had a long day, so it’s no surprise he fell asleep. It’s oddly peaceful having him sleep on the other side.

You continue scrolling through social media on your phone. Having the video call minimized in the corner of your screen. Eventually, you feel yourself growing more tired. Sometimes you hear the occasional snore coming from him while he sleeps. You close the app and return to the video call. “Good night. I love you.” You mumble quietly, to not wake him up. He lets out a murmur but stays asleep. You cover your mouth to minimize noise as you let out a chuckle. You leave the call and place your phone on the dresser. You close your eyes. Before you know it, you’re asleep yourself.

The next morning you’re greeted by a flurry of texts from him. You smile to yourself and shake your head. You hope this boy never changes. He’s the reason you wake up with a wide smile.

I fell asleep

Sorry baby didn’t mean to

Did you sleep well at least?

I’m going off to morning skate in a bit

Remember to eat well since I know you like to skip it even though it’s not good for you

I’ll call you later

I love you

You put your phone down after replying to him. You get up and start getting ready. You should get started on your day. He’s returning home in a few days. You can’t wait for that day. You have so much to tell him that a phone call won’t do justice, and you’re sure he feels the same way.

#hockey #nhl hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl players #nhl imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #new jersey devils #nj devils #drabble #fluff

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days

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the girl next door 8

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Your head is throbbing. The hangover of your night of crying greets you like a drumbeat. You cradle your skull and shudder, roused only by a clink from the kitchen. You grumble and sit up, blearily checking the clock beside your bed. The digital numbers stamp your vision. It’s too early for your mom to be up. You can’t even remember the last time she was awake before you.

You know she won’t be happy about having to make her own coffee. You get up, clumsy steps carrying you to the door as you rub your temples. You go out into the hall, your tee shirt caught in the top of your striped linen sleep shorts.

You squeak as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. It’s not your mom. You’re so surprised, you can’t move. You drop your hands, hugging yourself as you stare at Steve’s back, his broad shoulders stretching the leopard print of your mother’s robe. The insinuation of the piece of clothing, makes you choke.

He glances over his shoulder before you can flee. His gray hair is slightly mussed and you can see his boxers poking out past the short hem of the robe. You sway on your feet.

“Good morning, sweetie. Want some coffee?” He asks, sleep dragging in his voice, “pot just finished brewing.”

“Oh, um... I’ll make my own.”

“More than enough,” he insists as he takes out another mug from the cupboard. His familiarity with the place makes you squirm.

“Erm,” you bite your lip.

“Here,” he turns to you with a mug. “You like sugar? Milk?”

“Black,” you answer as he nears.

You accept the cup as he holds it out. His lack of shame makes you even more uncomfortable. You are an adult. It isn’t that absurd that your mom would have... needs. It’s just not something you know much about. Nor had you ever really thought about her finding someone like this. She only ever griped about your father and every other man she knew.

“Wow, I would’ve thought you had a sweet tooth,” he remarks.

You shake your head, “thanks.”

You turn to escape with the comfort of the coffee. He hums as if disappointed but you let the sound fade behind you. You close your bedroom door and quickly cross the room, as if to get as far from him as possible.

You just weren’t prepared. You’re still reeling from the night before and your bout of tears. Ugh. You’re just stupid. You get so swept up in stupid emotions and then you mope around. You sip the coffee and set the cup down.

You look down at your bare legs and cross them, pulling subconsciously on your tee shirt. Oh gosh. You’d been walking around in front of him like this.

You grab the cup again. You focus on finishing it, on letting the temperature sooth you. You hear your mother’s voice but it’s distant and indiscernible. When you empty the mug, you go to your bed and sprawl out. You’ll probably just stay in here all day; out of the way, alone. Not much you can do with a headache.

You close your eyes and drift into a shallow half-sleep. You can feel the day brighten outside the window and hear the chirping birds but your room is shrouded in fog. A knock breaks through your stupour. You groan and roll onto your side.

The door opens and you lift your head to look at your mom.

“You’re not staying in your bed all day,” she stomps into the room, “get up. Go for a walk or something.”

“A walk?” You sit up, head wobbly.

“I don’t care where but you need to get out of this house,” she snarls, her lip quivering. You won’t ask if she’s used her inhaler, she’s already worked up, “get out of my way.”

You blink and nod. You stand up and go to your dresser. She huffs, “and don’t make a whole thing when you leave. Just go.”

You pull out a pair of thin pants as she slams the door behind her. You frown and change, quickly making yourself tolerably presentable. You don’t know that even if your clothes were nicer or your face prettier, that you would ever feel acceptable.

You take a book and go into the hallway as quietly as you can. The smell of maple makes your stomach growl. You glance down toward the kitchen and stay close to the wall. You creep down to the entryway and slip your feet into your shoes.

“Hey, off to somewhere?” Steve startles you as he peeks out of the kitchen, a spatula in hand.

“Um,” you look back and forth.

“She’s just going for her morning walk,” your mother chirps as she appears from behind him, “aren’t you, honey?”

You nod stiffly. Morning walk? You can’t remember the last time you walked past the end of the avenue.

“Oh, I wish I’d known. I’d love to come with. Maybe explore the neighbourhood,” Steve says, “what about breakfast? You wanna eat first?”

You look at your mom. She grimaces. You shake your head.

“Not hungry. Thanks.”

“Hm, alright,” he frowns, disappointed, “I’ll put some aside for you. Maybe another day.”

He goes back into the kitchen and your mom mouth’s one word, ‘go’.

You do as she says and you leave. You clutch your book tightly as you come down the front steps and try to figure out what to do. There’s a bench near the park you can sit on and read. A chapter will take a while and you should try to spend more time outside.

Your eyes narrow against the sunshine. Your head still hurts and your now your stomach is clenching violently. Just the smell of food had you ravenous. Well, there’s be cold pancakes waiting for your return at least.

You find the bench. It’s not where you remembered. It wasn’t by the entrance but further inside. Still, it’s early and there’s no one there.

You sit and watch the birds for a while before you open the book. A few squirrels skitter by, chasing each other’s tails, and you smile. You like being outside. You just don’t enjoy the people outside.

You put your head down and start the chapter. You can’t really remember what happened in the last one. It’s been a while since you were able to focus enough to read a book cover to cover.

As the morning light shifts, a woman and two children appear at the park entrance. The follow the path to the play place and you watch from afar. Soon, several other kids arrive to join the fun. Their parents stand around the parameter in pairs and clusters, chatting as they watch the younger crowd. You should find somewhere else.

You stand and notice someone walking toward you. You watch Marge as she approaches, and another woman, you think her name is Callie. You smile at them nervously. Are they mad? You don’t have kids, why are you sitting there?

“Good morning,” Marge chimes in a sing song voice, “you’re up bright and early.”

“Morning,” you murmur and peer between the blondes.

“And how’s your mother?” Callie asks with an edge.

“Okay,” you swallow dryly, hugging the book to your chest.

“Mm, great, that’s great. Your lawn looks much better,” Marge praises.

You nod and slant your mouth.

“You’re so lucky to have such a helpful new neighbour,” Marge smirks, “he seems so nice.”

You just stare back at her. You don’t know what she wants you to say. Sorry? Should you have done it yourself? You were going to but the mower broke.

“What’s his name?” Callie asks.

You frown.

“You can tell us,” Marge steps closer, “really? We’re just curious. We want to welcome him to the neighbourhood. I made him lasagna and I wanna know what to call him when I show up.”

You feel your chest locking up. They remind you of the girls in highschool who would take your lunch tray. You chew your lip until it’s raw.

“We know he’s been talking to your mother. And you. It’s a small neighbourhood, hon,” Callie chirps, “just tell us his name.”

You push your shoulders up and sidestep away from them. The bench presses to your knees as you retreat. They turn on you, following with hands on their hips.

“Don’t run away, hon. We’re neighbours--”

“I don’t know,” you say. “I gotta go home.”

Marge sighs and Callie blows a raspberry, “boo,” the former says, “fine, run home to mommy.”

You turn away and barely keep from doing just that. You don’t know why they care but you wouldn’t guess anything good. They have wanted you and your mom out of the suburb for as long as you’ve been through. Maybe they think Steve would be a perfect ally in their crusade.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #au #silverfox au #the girl next door #mcu #marvel #captain america

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flemingsfreckles · 3 hours

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Physio’s Daughter Part 6

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the other 5 parts HERE

Warnings: just cursing and the angst :)

WC: 4.3k

A/N: okay, so I know the opponents don’t match up with who Canada will actually play in the group stage of the Olympics but I’m a superstitious mfker and I don’t want to be responsible for jinxing anything, so they’re playing different teams.

You had never been on a private plane, it was definitely a different experience flying with the Canadian team than on a regular plane, however it didn’t make your dislike of flying any better. You were nervous walking up the stairs to the plane, you were nervous walking down the aisle, you were nervous when you sat down in the incredibly large and surprisingly comfortable chair. Your nerves only grew when you felt someone plop into the seat next to you only to look over and see Jessie with her sweet smile looking at you.

“Hi.”

“Oh this has got to be a joke.” You don’t mean to say it out loud but you do. Jessie’s smile falls when she hears your words.

“Nope.” She holds her phone out to you showing her ticket that shows she was indeed sitting next to you. “Sorry, I can see if someone will switch.”

You don’t respond to her, she has every right to sit there but you didn’t know how you were going to handle being next to her for such a long period of time. She stands up and you watch her scan the plane looking for a teammate to switch with.

“Sit down Jeff, you're holding us up.” One of her teammates waiting in the aisle says, she listens not wanting to start any issues. She plops down with a sigh into the seat next to you.

She definitely didn’t help your nerves, now you were nervous about the actual flying and spending the 8 hour flight next to the woman you were attracted to, but couldn’t have. You sat in silence as she got herself situated in her seat. Grabbing out a pair of headphones, a bottle of water, and a bag of dried fruit.

She didn’t say anything to you and you didn’t say anything back. That was until the plane started pushing back.

You were clutching onto your arm rest with one hand, your phone in the other as your tried to shuffle through songs to find one to make the plane ride less miserable. Subconsciously your knees were both bouncing aggressively, trying to get out your nerves.

“You alright?” Jessie points at your knees.

“I hate flying. It just feels unnatural, you know?”

“I guess, it’s never bothered me much. I try to sleep

most of the time. It’ll be okay.” She puts out a hand on the small table between your seats. She’s offering to hold your hand.

You look at it for a second, before deciding to turn her hand down. You shake your head to indicate you were good, you didn’t need to hold someone’s hand, you were an adult. Except it was then that the plane began down the runway to take off, the plane rattling, making you reach for her hand just as she was about to pull it away.

You interlock your fingers and grip her hand tightly. You’re sure your hands are sweaty and clammy which is embarrassing. Jessie gives your hand a gentle squeeze as you feel the plane lift off. You look over at her and she mouths the words “it’s okay”.

Despite the flight being at night you didn’t sleep for a second. Jessie fell asleep less than an hour after take off, you felt her grip on your hand relax and you looked over to see her seat slightly reclined, her head back and her eyes shut. She looked peaceful and beautiful. Realizing your own thoughts you turn away from her, kicking yourself for thinking about her. You also pull your hand away, placing it into your own lap to pick at the skin on your thumb.

It’s a long and restless eight hours and you’re thankful when you get the announcement that the plane would be landing soon. The announcement wakes up Jessie, she shifts in her seat, making a few soft groans before her eyes blink open.

“Did he say we’re almost landing?” She asks, sliding her headphone off.

“Yeah, shortly.” You let her know.

“Oh wow, did I sleep the whole flight?”

“I think so, I’m not sure.” You didn’t want her to think you had been paying attention to her, you had been, stealing glances at the girl beside you every 15 minutes to just admire her, and envy her ability to sleep.

“Did you sleep?”

“Yeah a bit.” You lie.

She gives you a smile and her arm extends to give you a quick pat on the shoulder. “Good, see I told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”

As you approach the ground Jessie offers her hand again, only this time you’re smart enough not to take it. “Landing doesn’t bother me as much as taking off.” You tell Jessie, another lie, it still terrified you just as much.

Once you’re on the ground, you remove your hands from the armrest where you’re pretty sure you made indents with your fingers from gripping so hard. Everyone files off the plane and onto buses. You get on the bus and pick the seat next to your Mom, not wanting to risk an open seat next to you being taken by a certain brunette.

“Convenient seating on the plane eh?” Your Mom nudges you.

“Please stop.” You grumble at her. You were tired from your inability to sleep on the plane, overwhelmed from the stress and ready to be in bed. You were also bothered as she was the one making it such a big deal that you had a crush on Jessie, she shouldn’t get to joke around about it.

“Oh don’t be so uptight.” You stuck your headphones back on, and leaned over to place your head on your Mom’s shoulder. The bus ride was about an hour, most of which you passed by finally being able to sleep.

The next few days went by quickly, the players busy with training, photo shoots, drug tests, interviews, meetings, you hardly saw the players except during training or physio appointments. It worked out well for you, being able to avoid Jessie for the majority of each day. You got to go out and explore the city, most of which you did with Olivia, one of the other staff members.

Olivia was your assigned roommate for the trip, she was the other youngest staff member, still 2 years older than you. She worked primarily with the media team. She was blonde, tall, and loud. She was exactly your type.

You two quickly became close, learning to navigate the new city together, only a couple of times getting lost. You would get up and get coffee together each day, trying as many cafes as possible. You’d walk around with your coffee, enjoying the sites and the quiet mornings before you’d both split to go work, you to the training room while Olivia would go gather her camera gear and head to the pitch. On the pitch she would come over to you, talking to keep you company.

Olivia was nice, she worked as a good distraction, when you weren’t face to face with Jessie at training, you were able to keep her out of your mind, instead you kept Olivia in your mind.

The first few games of the group rounds were easy, Canada easily beating Japan 3-0, then drawing with Germany 1-1. The last group stage game was a 2-0 win over Brazil. You had just finished up work, giving players treatment after their first knockout game against Australia, a nerve wracking 1-0 victory.

It had been a long day, when you got back to your hotel room Olivia was already there, sitting at the desk working.

“Hi!” She smiled at you when you walked in. “You look exhausted.”

“Gee thanks.” You reply sarcastically as you flop yourself onto your bed, face down into the blanket. You were grateful that the semi final game wouldn’t be for 3 days. You’d still have work when the players trained, but it wouldn’t be all day and into the night like match days were.

“I took photos of you today, want to see them?” Olivia asked as you remained faced down on your hotel bed. You rolled over and sat up, looking across to the desk where she was editing on her computer, your face on the screen.

“Why did you take photos of me?” Skeptical of what she meant, you pushed yourself off the bed and over to stand behind her chair. The photo on her computer screen was a photo of you, talking with Ashley Lawrence as you wrapped her wrist with tape.

She clicks to the next photo, it’s one of you carrying a medical bag out from the tunnel onto the field. She clicks again. It's one of your Mom and Sarah chatting on the bench looking at paperwork.

“Well it’s more photos of the whole staff, you all don’t get enough recognition for what you do, so I asked my manager if I could spend some time taking photos of you all working, to make a little appreciation post.” She keeps flipping through the photos, there are a lot of you, some of you with players, some of you with other staff and then a lot of you just alone, standing watching the game, a couple of you on the pitch, treating a player for a cramp, one of you on the phone.

“You photograph well.”

“Oh.” You blush, you’re not sure what to say to the compliment. “Thanks, it’s probably more your photography skills.”

Olivia turns away from the computer to look up at you. Her eyes wander over your face for a minute before she says “Nope, pretty sure it’s just you.” There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Olivia pushes back from the desk and over to her backpack. “You know, if you want, I have my personal camera, I can take photos of you while we’re out.”

Her comment brought you back to your text conversation with Jessie from weeks ago, when she offered to be your personal photographer on your travels.

“That sounds nice, tomorrow?”

“Yeah I’m free, obviously, since we have the same schedule.” She laughs. “Sounds good, we can do some sightseeing, and then maybe lunch?”

“Perfect.” You sit down behind Olivia as she turns back to looking at photos, watching over her shoulder as she continues to go through photos of the players. Every time Jessie pops up on her screen you feel a flutter in your stomach. You were doing such a good job of avoiding her, not thinking about her, here you were still having feelings about her when you were about to embark on your day with Olivia tomorrow.

Your phone rings, you scurry over to it, Jessie’s name on the screen. You answer.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Her voice is soft, gentle, you could listen to her talk for hours.

“What’s up?”

“You’re off tomorrow, I’m off tomorrow. Can I finally get that coffee date?” She then quickly corrects herself. “Not a date, but us getting coffee, but not a date, us, coffee, tomorrow. And not coffee where its me bringing it to you in your office.”

“Um, yeah I can probably make that work. I’m going around with Olivia to do some sightseeing, but we can probably go later in the morning, we can grab coffee early”

“Oh, okay, never mind. That’s alright, enjoy your time with her.” You can hear the defeat in her voice.

“No Jess it’s-” you hear a beep and you then realize she hung up.

You put the phone down, slumping down to sit. Sure you were the one who maybe turned her down a little, but the way she hung up aggressively on you hurt.

“Jess? As in Fleming?” Olivia looks at you.

“Yeah, her and I are, we’re friends sorta. We’ve been trying to get coffee for a couple weeks but we’ve both been busy.

“Like a date?”

“Oh no, not a date.”

“Oh. Well you can go get coffee with her, I’m okay if we go mid morning instead.”

“Well she just hung up on me so, I’m not sure if it’s even an option.” You shrug.

“Alright then we can start early if that’s better. We can grab coffee and then do some sightseeing?”

The next morning you woke up to the sound of the shower starting, Olivia already awake and getting ready for the day. You check the time, it’s 7:40, technically sleeping in given your regular schedule. You lay in bed staring at the ceiling waiting for the bathroom to be free.

Olivia comes out in only a towel, making your eyes temporarily widen before you relax them.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t meant to hog the bathroom.” She smiles when she sees you’re also awake.

“Oh, no worries.” You roll yourself out of bed and head into the bathroom yourself. “I’m going to shower and then I’ll be ready to go.” You shower quickly and step out wrapping yourself in the soft towel. You dry your hair and open the door walking over to your suitcase, Olivia is already dressed, packing a small bag for the afternoon camera gear spread across her bed.

You rummaging through your clothes for something to wear. You pick out a white linen shirt, an undershirt to go beneath and then a black pair of jeans. You turn back, checking that Olivia is occupied with something else.

“You’re good, I'm not looking.” She notices your glance in her direction.

“Thanks.” You say before you quickly drop the towel before pulling on your underwear and bra. You then pull on your jeans and shirt. “I’m done.” You say to her.

“Ready to go?”

“Yep.”

You walk into the cafe, there’s a small line and a couple of people already sitting. You get in line, looking at the menu, allowing Olivia to translate for you, her being from Quebec coming in handy.

“Hey you two!” You hear a voice from behind you and Janine walks up to you and Olivia, behind her is Jessie who looks less than thrilled to be out of the hotel.

“Hi Janine, hi Jessie.” Olivia greats them both.

“Hi Olivia.” Jessie says, she just glances at you, not saying anything. Janine looks between you and Jessie quickly an eyebrow cocked, questioning the strange behavior.

Guilt flushes through your body, even though Jessie was the one who rejected your offer, you said you would’ve been available in the morning and she hung up. But the way she ignored you felt like you had done something wrong.

Saved from having any further conversation, it’s your turn to order, you order and you then get Olivia’s order, offering to pick up Janine and Jessie’s cost as well, Janine accepts but Jessie quickly interrupts and waves you off saying she’s got it for them.

“Good to see you guys, enjoy your day off!” Olivia says as you both walk out the door onto the street.

Despite the awkward interaction at the cafe, you and Olivia have a lovely rest of the morning and afternoon. You walk around, she takes photos of you, and the scenery but mainly just of you. You talk and talk. Finally your conversations go further than just surface level and about work.

You learn that she had an older sister and two younger brothers, she was born in Quebec but lived in New York for a bit as a kid. She originally wanted to study film production but got an internship as a sports photographer for her university sports department and fell in love with the work. Outside of photography she enjoyed baking but hated cooking. She didn’t like seafood, except for shrimp.

It was easy talking with Olivia, but it didn’t feel the same as your early morning chats with Jessie or the small conversation you’d have when she hung around training late just to be in your company.

Maybe you weren’t into Olivia like you thought you were. Maybe you just wanted her as a friend. She made you feel nothing like how Jessie did. You didn’t have the same nerves around her, you didn’t have the same heart racing when you thought about her, you didn’t have the desire to grab her and kiss her. You didn’t think about what it would be like to sleep next to her, your mind didn’t constantly replay the feeling of her hug. You didn’t want her like that. You didn’t have a crush on her, you just wanted to be her friend, and you were.

The rest of your day was easy, you had lunch before you both were tired enough to head back to the hotel for a nap. Your plans to nap were quickly derailed by watching a movie.

“Come lay on my bed, it’s plenty big and then you won’t be straining your neck.” Olivia offered as she looked at you laying in your own bed, having to lean your head over to see the TV. She pulls back the sheets on the side closest to you and pats the bed.

You get up from your own bed, fix the sheets and then climb into Olivia’s bed, adjust to be comfortable and start watching the movie. Unfortunately the movie being in French meant you weren’t paying attention for too long and your eyelids quickly grew heavy and you fell asleep.

You woke up to the sound of Olivia talking quietly before you heard the hotel room door close. You blink a few times as she walks back into the room.

“Who was that?” You ask, thinking for a second you had maybe missed something important, a meeting or an appointment.

“Just Jessie, she wanted to borrow a camera strap and tripod, I guess she’s going out to take photos. Sorry did we wake you, we tried to be quiet, she was only in the room for a bit.”

Fuck, Jessie had been in the room. You knew you were in for it, if it was anyone else they might not have noticed that you were sleeping in Olivia’s bed, but Jessie was too observant to not notice. There was no way she didn’t notice how your bed was still made, untouched and you and Olivia had both been in hers. She saw you hugging the pillow beneath your head, she saw the fact that you were only dressed in a sports bra and sweats. It looked exactly like what you didn’t want it to look like.

You flopped back into the bed, watching tv with Olivia and trying not to spiral about Jessie until dinner time when you met your Mom to have dinner together. Thankfully getting you out of the team dinner for a night not having to see Jessie who is probably still pissed off with you from this morning and now seeing you in another girl's bed. Your Mom offered to take you to a museum tomorrow, you only had training to attend in the evening, so naturally you agreed.

The next two days without games fly by and before you know it you’re back standing on the sidelines watching the team play in the semi-final game against France.

You let out a sigh as the whistle blew to end extra time and indicate the game was about to enter penalties. Canada and France had both played well, keeping it a tight game 0-0. You watched the coin toss, France getting to kick first.

You stood on the sidelines, arms linked with the other staff, your Mom on one side and Sarah on the other, as you all watched the girls take penalties.

The first French player makes her penalty. Julia steps up, easily slotting the ball into the net. The next French player makes hers as well. Leon takes the ball next, her kick deflected by the keeper, putting Canada behind 2-1. After the third French player misses her kick you watch as the ball finds its way into Jessie’s hands.

You had been nervous watching all of the kicks, but watching Jessie hold the ball made you unable to move or breathe. You watch her, you had seen her take penalties plenty in practice, you had her routine memorized just as you did every other players.

She placed the ball, adjusting it a few times before she was satisfied. She then took her three steps back, and looked down, closing her eyes for a moment. You waited and waited and waited, watching her. It was only a couple extra seconds but you watched as Jessie didn’t look up as quick as she normally did, you also noticed the small shake of her head before she opened her eyes, something she didn’t usually do, and began her approach. She kicked it and you watched as it deflected off the keeper's hands. She had missed.

You watched as she turned back to join her team, head down, not acknowledging as her teammates gave her pats on the back.

Thankfully, the next French player misses her kick as well, giving Canada the chance to tie it up. Janine successfully makes her kick, giving a quick celebration before going back to the line to watch the fifth French player take her kick. Her kick goes off the post and now Chloe steps up to take her kick. She set up, taking the kick and you’re not even sure you saw the ball go in, just the eruption from those around you and the sea of red running onto the field. You follow the rest of the staff, grabbing bottles to bring out to the players. Your eyes scanning for Jessie, you find her, head still down, Janine behind her trying to talk to her, Jessie just walking away.

“Jess.” You hold out a bottle to her.

“Don’t talk to me.” She puts a hand to your chest and shoves you out of the way, causing you to stumble back a step. It was probably a harder shove than she intended, but you get the message. She’s pissed off that she missed, she just needs some time alone. You don’t follow her, letting her leave the pitch as you turn back toward the field where the rest of the team was still jumping around and cheering.

“Don’t take it personally, she’s too tough on herself, she shuts people out.” Janine says, grabbing the bottle you intended for Jessie out of your hand taking a drink of it. “She’ll be fine.” She thanks you for the water, handing the bottle back to you. The team celebrates for a little bit longer before everyone starts moving back to the locker room to change and go to the hotel.

When you go back into the locker room you notice all of Jessie’s gear is gone, what was once her cubby is empty. You go check the treatment paperwork, seeing that she did do her recovery, just with Sarah instead of you and had already checked out of the facility for the night. It didn’t bother you too much that she didn’t do her recovery with you, you were glad she at least still did it, taking care of herself, but she wasn’t the type to rush out, leaving her team behind.

When you get back to the hotel you shower and crawl into bed, feeling emotionally and physically exhausted. You couldn’t get Jessie’s disappointed and angry face out of your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way she shoved you. Janine had said it wasn’t personal but it sure felt like it was.

Olivia climbs into her own bed shortly after you do, she shuts off the lights in the room and wishes you a goodnight. It’s not long before she starts to snore, she snores quietly, not enough to bother you or keep you awake, if anything on the other nights it was like a white noise machine. But tonight it was Jessie keeping you awake. You wanted to text her, to see how she was, to make sure she was okay. But you were keeping your distance, you were staying invisible.

After trying to fall asleep for 3 hours and failing, just rusting around in the sheets, you get up and decide to leave the room, getting out of the sleepless bed would maybe help. You throw on your Canada hoodie and as quietly as possible leave your hotel room. You make your way down to the conference room that had been converted into Team Canada’s meeting room, game room, movie room, whatever activities the players wanted to do in their free time.

There she was, wearing a matching red hoodie, her ponytail making her easily identifiable as she sat at a chair with her head tilted down toward something on the table in front of her.

“What are you doing here?” You asked Jessie as you entered the room, not wanting to startle her too much. She was sitting at a table looking at a tablet, a tablet playing her missed kick, over and over and over.

Her head spins around, looking over to you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You tell her.

“That makes two of us.” She replies. You stand next to her, she’s looking up at you.

“You know sitting here watching that over and over isn’t going to change anything.” You point at the tablet in front of her as you watch again the ball go into the arms of the keeper.

“I know, but this is how I handle it. So I’m going to keep watching it. Thanks.” You get the indication that she’s not interested in your company anymore so you turn to walk over to another chair in the corner of the room. You’re about to sit down when Jessie speaks up.

“I missed that penalty because of you, it’s your fault.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader #jessie fleming blurb

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icallhimjoey · 15 hours

Text

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, lil smutty, reader has hair long enough to tie up, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: oohhh big changes! we are TALKING! with our MOUTHS! what a time. This is the last part of flatmate!Joe - for real this time. I truly hope you've enjoyed what is still my most plotless (imo) bit of writing, lmk your thoughts <3

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

There was something living inside of your chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Soft. Vulnerable. Silently shrinking. It had gotten hurt and was wearing its bruises on the outside. When it got poked, you could feel the shooting pains as it curled in on itself more. It would find the safest spots to squeeze its eyes shut and you’d mentally tell it, it’s okay. You’re okay.

It wasn’t okay.

Maybe therapy wasn’t an insane suggestion, anymore, at this point. You felt like you were protecting a child to the point where you couldn’t let it see the light of day. Couldn’t let it go outside and play. Couldn’t let it have friends – let it meet Joe. Couldn’t let it experience anything joyful, because if you did, it’d probably experience more hurt too.

But it was hurting anyway.

And now it was only pain it got to feel. Never joy. Just bruises and cuts. Scrapes that slowly formed thick drops of blood that hardened into scabs which pulled at your skin and eventually turned into scars.

You wished you’d known that before you locked it up inside.

There was something living inside of your chest, and it carefully wished it could speak up and be heard.

When you’d walked out of your bedroom and into the living room, a surprised Josh raised his eyebrows at you. He was leaning back into the sofa and had an acoustic guitar in his lap that he was absentmindedly playing whilst he was watching TV on a low volume. The guitar playing stopped when he saw you and didn’t pick back up as he watched you walk over, pillow in hand, facial expression drained.

“Hey, what’s up?” the guitar got moved onto the floor.

You didn’t answer when you put your pillow down on the opposite end of the sofa and took the blanket you’d slept under before. You curled up, ignored Josh who tried to ask if you were okay a couple of times as you stared at the TV. He asked if you wanted to talk about it. Said you probably should talk about it if you didn’t want Josh to think about this all night.

“It’s going to keep me up if I don’t know if you’re okay.”

You ignored it all, didn’t give a shit if Josh was going to get a good night’s sleep, and eventually turned over and faced the back of the sofa. It sent the message it needed to. It took just another moment before Josh turned off the TV, and then the lights as he left you alone.

This was stupid.

But you were stubborn.

You were stubborn and were going to go to sleep on your sofa, even though you were the one that lived here, and maybe Joe should be the one to sleep on the sofa.

Or actually, he could go home. To his own flat. Where all things were his, and the only things that felt like they were yours were the plants you’d brought in and the toothbrush you’d left by his sink.

Yea.

Joe could just leave.

You didn’t care that he was still paying rent.

But you didn’t actually get up to go and tell him that. Of course not. You just wallowed in thought. In all the would-dos and would-says. Shivered because this new stupid blanket Josh got wasn’t thick enough to keep you warm throughout the night.

You made yourself cry inside of that soup of goopy misery. Felt what lived inside of your chest as it drowned and mentally apologised to it when, after three hours of not being able to actually go to sleep, after three hours of anger that turned into fragile neediness, you decided to get up and make your way back.

Find Joe.

Because, and fuck him for this, Joe always knew how to fucking fix it.

And there was something so silly about walking down the hallway of your flat with tears staining your cheeks to sneak into Joe’s old bedroom. To find Joe inside of the bed there, the lay-out of the room still the same. Joe’s side of the bed still the same.

The click of the door closing made Joe lift his head up in an attempt to see into the dark.

He hadn’t expected you at all, so for a second, he thought that maybe you’d just walked in to get something. Your phone. Or your charger. But then you walked around to your side of the bed and got under the covers. It was too dark to see your face, but you found Joe’s warm body and snuggled up. Pressed your forehead to his jaw and hummed through a sigh and Joe didn’t need to see your face to hug you closer. Didn’t need to see if you’d been crying to wrap arms around, and to tangle legs, and to press a small kiss into your hair.

You wiggled as you settled and sighed as you sunk deeper into the mattress. You could deal with the disappointment within yourself in the morning.

“I’m sorry.” Joe whispered into the dark, and you decided you could also deal with your disappointment in Joe in the morning, so you softly whined and said, “Pause.”

“Pause?”

“Mhm.”

Everything could just be paused. Postponed. Just for a few hours. You just needed to get some sleep.

Joe wasn’t in a position to not accept that. His heart felt full with the nostalgia he unexpectedly found with you sneaking into this room in order to get some sleep. It used to be like this. He was in the same location. In the exact same spot. Just, everything was yours now.

Me too, Joe thought.

Everything was yours now, including Joe. Whether you wanted him or not.

He squeezed you tighter and saw that you got to sleep. Traced finger tips across skin that warmed under the covers, and tickled into your hair by the nape of your neck, and he could feel how you were drifting off and, fuck off, he was yours.

He’d tell you in the morning.

Joe was going to tell you in the morning.

He would.

When Joe woke up, you were gone.

Fucking figures, Joe thought.

The private moment of waking up together that would’ve granted him the security and comfortability to say whatever needed saying was gone now.

Joe rubbed both hands over his face and scolded himself for not waking up as you had gotten out.

But it was fine.

There’d be another moment for it, he’d make sure.

Venturing out of your bedroom, you weren’t in the bathroom. Nor in the living area. He did, however, find Josh in the kitchen.

After awkward but polite good mornings shared, there was some uncomfortable shuffling around. Joe had made breakfast thousands of times in this kitchen, and he was already reaching to open the fridge when he realised that, actually, that was a weird thing to do. He no longer lived there. He couldn’t just go into cupboards and find the food that he knew was there – he knew exactly where the oatmeal went. He knew exactly where to find the cinnamon to sprinkle on top. How the coffee machine worked. Which cupboard to open to find the mugs.

Joe opted to busy himself making a coffee first. The machine was right there on the counter – less weird to reach for it and prepare himself a morning brew.

And Josh was cool about it. Opened a cupboard for him to fetch him a mug. It was a bit of an awkward dance, but a friendly one, tight smiles shared as Josh prepared his own breakfast.

It wasn’t until the loud noise of coffee beans being ground up that Joe decided to just… ask.

Might as well act like last night actually happened.

“Sorry about last night, mate,”

“Oh yea, no worries, I didn’t…” Josh frowned and shook his head as he scraped some butter onto his toast. He didn’t finish his sentence. Didn’t need to. Took a bite before buttering the second piece.

“Have you seen her?” Joe tried sounding as casual as he could, but failed miserably.

It was as honest and vulnerable of a question he was ever going to ask Josh. It revealed he had no idea where the fuck you’d gone, which in and of itself revealed that there was probably a reason you hadn’t told him.

But Josh was relaxed about it.

“Yea. Morning run. You just missed her, I think.”

And it took all within Joe to pretend that didn’t surprise him as much as it did. He just nodded. Pretended like that was a normal thing to hear about. Morning run. Sure. Miss be-useful-first-thing, what the fuck? When had you picked up that habit?

The coffee machine stopped whirring, and Joe took his coffee. Went for a sip immediately and instantly burnt his tongue. Rookie move.

“Is um… is everything okay? I don’t want to pry, but,” Josh asked as Joe moved around the island to sit down.

“Ah, well… you know,”

No, actually, Josh didn’t know.

Which was good.

Joe didn’t really want him to know.

Joe didn’t really want to explain.

Couldn’t really explain.

Where the fuck would he even begin?

“Hmm, yea,” Josh accepted the non-answer easily. “She seemed upset, but wouldn’t really say anything.”

Joe had to suppress a smile.

Of course you hadn’t fucking said anything.

“I asked like fifty times if she was okay, but she… I don’t know, she fully ignored me I guess. Kind of went catatonic on me a little.”

Joe drank his coffee and nodded.

“To be fair though,” Josh made big eyes at himself, “I was being really fucking annoying. I would’ve rolled over and ignored me too, I think.”

Both men let huffs of air escape them in silent laughter.

Then a moment of silence followed where Joe drank his coffee and Josh ate his toast. Joe realised he didn’t like how Josh knew things about you that he didn’t, but the upside was that it was incredibly useful, actually.

Josh talked where you... well, you did not.

“Did she cry?”

He wanted to know.

“No, she just… watched TV for a bit. I don’t know, she seemed tired so I went to bed shortly after to make sure she could get some sleep.”

That meant that, if you’d cried, you had waited for Josh to leave the room. Joe didn’t know if that was a comforting thought or not.

It didn’t take much longer for Josh to finish his toast and to casually suggest for Joe to make his own breakfast. Mentioned that everything on the bottom shelves of the fridge was yours before he walked out, and this morning was just full of surprises.

You split the fridge?!

What kind of sensible flatmate behaviour was this?!

When it was you and Joe, your stuff would just be thrown in wherever. None of it sorted. Joe would end up having your oatmilk in his coffee and you’d end up using his cheese in your omelettes.

Actually, he remembered how this had been the source of bickering for more than once. More than a couple of times. You would fall out over Joe having your food all the time, if he really thought about it. But it was always playful. Always something fun about it. A reason to swear at him until you made yourself laugh, and a reason for him to shut you up with poking fingers in your sides. The back and forth had never prompted you to split the fridge.

Had you and Joe ever been normal flatmates?

Probably not, he guessed.

Joe decided against breakfast in the end and just finished his coffee. Waited until you got back from your morning run, which he still had a hard time wrapping his head around, and when he eventually heard the front door open, he got up to make you a drink.

You knew Joe was still there by his coat that was hung up by the front door.

Fine.

It was fine.

You were sweaty and sticky and hot and you could feel your heartbeat in your face, but it was fine.

Walking into the kitchen, you were welcomed by Joe in jeans and a T-shirt, bare feet, hair stupid, already holding out a glass of juice for you.

You took it and refrained from talking as you had a sip. Looked at him over the glass though, and you hoped that what Joe would see was determination. Strength. That he saw someone who wasn’t going to take bullshit, because you weren’t.

You’d just gone for your very first morning run for fuck’s sake.

For a moment Joe just looked right back at you. Watched you have the drink he poured for you. You had bits of hair stuck to your flushed neck and had to breathe through flared nostrils. It was wildly attractive, if you asked him.

“Morning run?”

You caught a small smirk from Joe that you turned away from. Couldn’t look at him be cute when you were supposed to be mad at him still.

Then, in a rogue move, Joe opened the freezer and took a single look inside to find a frozen pizza he took out and tossed onto the counter.

That was meant to mean something.

You gave it a blank stare as Joe looked at you and you sighed.

“Hey,” Joe tried getting your attention back on him, but instead, you put the glass down and turned around. Walked out. Went to your bedroom.

Joe followed.

“Hey,” Joe tried again, stood in your doorway, watching you collect an outfit. “Talk to me.”

It went ignored.

This was the worst part of not having an ensuite; having to take just enough clothes into the bathroom to change in there. You and Josh weren’t exactly on a just-a-towel level yet. Bathrobe felt scandalous too, somehow, even for the five steps it took to get from your bedroom into the bathroom.

Josh could see you in clothes or not see you at all.

Joe easily moved aside when you walked past him, out of your room, and you looked at him as you did.

“Come on. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Joe tried again.

It didn’t feel like you were fully ignoring him, but you weren’t answering him either.

You were thinking Joe was being an idiot.

You were trying, had been trying really hard to meet him where he wanted to be met, and then he just went and let you know he didn’t trust… you? Your flatmate? The situation he’d created with his own two hands?

Felt unfair.

You didn’t say any of that though. Just walked into the bathroom, and then left the door open.

Joe would get the hint, you thought.

He did, but only when you started peeling off your sweat-soaked top with the door wide open, still.

Joe moved quick. Sort of scrambled to get into the bathroom, to lock the door behind him, and then to help you get your top over your head as you struggled with the damp fabric around your shoulders.

You undressed, and Joe helped, and you made eye-contact the whole time.

You could see how he was searching. Trying to find whatever you weren’t saying in your eyes, his chin tucked in, his eyes pleading, all soft and rounded.

Joe tried.

He really tried.

You were getting naked right in front of him, body flushed and glistening with sweat and he got a good look as you stretched your body over the bath to turn the shower on and then you kept staring right at him as you removed more clothes and you were doing something with your eyes and Jesus fucking Christ, Joe was trying.

Trying to not grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake.

Trying not to let his eyes skirt downward because you’d just removed your sports bra and, oof, man, that was a lot of skin on show.

Joe was trying not to hold you by the face and trying not to get real close and trying not to whisper words into your mouth in hopes of coaxing out some of your own. Which… he failed. Because he did get your face into both his hands just after you’d reached up to untie your hair. He did get real close. And he did ask you once more to just talk to him, please.

You handled the close eye-contact fine.

Handled the cupping of your face fine.

And Joe couldn’t stop searching your face.

Was there truly no budging?

Was this… was this it?

Had he just gone and fucked it all up for himself? Had the big plan behind his move imploded because he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were now… no longer in his flat with him? Joe’s mind tried to make sense of it, but all he could really come up with, was that you probably didn’t even consider the two of you to be together.

You’d never talked about that.

Had never mentioned it.

Hadn’t labeled it.

You were just close flatmates that weren’t actually flatmates anymore, and… and now what?

He just wanted you to talk.

You were just in your underwear now, stood in a small bathroom and Joe ticked off all boxes in his mind: you were alone, check. You were close, check. You were in your safe space, check.

The shower was hot now, slowly filling the room with warm steam and, fuck, if you would just fucking talk.

Joe was about to repeat himself. Was about to say it again. But then he saw it.

Something changed.

Your eyes softened and your mouth tightened as you tried to keep your lips wobbling. As you tried to not let what was living inside of your chest get out. When you started blinking more rapidly as your eyes stung with tears, you also began avoiding eye-contact and, good. This was good. Joe let you go then, and watched as you got out of your last piece of clothing before you stepped into the shower.

You left the shower curtain open, and Joe thought he’d never undressed quite so fast.

You’d never shared a shower before.

Something about it felt really momentous, but you didn’t have the opportunity to think about it for too long. The thought vanished just as quickly as it had crossed your mind, because when Joe stepped into the bath behind you and held you by the shoulders before curling his arms around to hold you close, you decided that, actually, you were going to talk.

“You left,” you started, voice far thinner than you wanted it to be.

“I know.”

“You left and you’re making me feel bad about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair. It’s not my fault you moved out,” you reached up to hold onto Joe’s arm across your front and you felt how your eyebrows knitted together when you softly followed with, “Is it?”

And, fuck.

Something snapped into Joe’s chest.

Something swelled and popped.

He didn’t know what that was, all he knew was that it hurt.

“No!” Joe tightened his arms before he let you go enough to turn around. “No, baby, of course not, is that– do you think I left because of you?”

You looked at each other, and for a moment, Joe didn’t know if he was looking at shower water or tears that were running down your face.

You gave a small shrug before Joe lifted his hands to your face to wipe at your cheeks. If they were tears, they had no business being there, so he needed them gone.

“I didn’t leave this place because of you. Hey,” you avoided eye-contact, so he grabbed hold of you by the face again where both your of your hands found his wrists. “Look at me. Look– I did not move out because of you, all right?”

Well, he did… but, it was nuanced. He moved out for the both of you. He had to be careful. He couldn’t say the wrong thing and ruin what already felt ruined enough.

You gave a tiny nod that he could feel more than he could see, and you looked so fucking sad, Joe couldn’t help but move in to try and kiss some of it from your face.

He hoped you believed him.

You were naked in a shower together, of which Joe was getting none of the stream, and you were trembling because of things Joe had said and done and all he could think to do was hold you.

So he did.

It was a terrible waste of water, but it felt so incredibly necessary for him to not pull back until you did. Let you take the lead. Curl an arm around your head, the other around your waist, and follow your pace.

Joe felt how you were trying to control your breathing, and, you were right. He wasn’t allowed to be the cause.

He was the reason why you were feeling the way you were feeling and he realised he had been, for a while, probably.

Joe pushed you.

Joe had been pushing you.

He shouldn’t have.

He shouldn’t have left and he shouldn’t have tried with all his might to keep you as close to him as you had been before and he shouldn’t have taken his jealousy out on you and he shouldn’t have repeatedly asked you to talk to him because look! Look what all of it had lead to?

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

No more making you meet him halfway.

Joe was going to wait for you.

He would.

It didn’t fucking matter how long it was going to take you, or if you’d even get there at all. He was going to wait. If that meant actually befriending Josh like a normal person, then he was just going to have to befriend Josh like a normal person.

Joe held you close until your finger tips stopped digging into his skin so much, and then he softly said, “I’ll wait.”

That made you look up at him.

“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”

And, you frowned. Because what the fuck was Joe talking about.

“But…” you started, and you felt it then. You could feel whatever was inside of your chest collect every little speck of bravery it could find within your body. It pulled it from the muscles in your legs and from the bones in your arms. Found some hidden inside the beating of your heart and then some more in the humid shower air inside your lungs. And then, it said it.

“I’m right here.”

Joe blinked at you. Didn’t get it.

“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait. Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…” you furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you. All bravery gone.

Joe saw.

Heard what you were saying and, before you even fucking knew what was happening, Joe had both his arms around your waist and lifted you up, effectively pressing his face right into your tits as he scared the living daylights out of you because you were in the bath.

“Joe–” you shrieked, but were quickly shut up by his mouth that pressed to yours before your feet had even properly touched down again.

“I love you.” Joe squeezed it from his own mouth right into yours. Barely got the words out normal as he didn’t want to stop kissing. Didn’t want to break contact, lips and hands doing the most.

“Joe,” you laughed, giving his shoulders a light push before you felt something against your hip, and– oh.

“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that. I love you. Did you hear me? I love you. I said I love–”

“I love you too.”

Joe froze before he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut, and you looked down to see how hard that had made him.

“I love you too,” you repeated yourself and saw it jump, leaking already, and Jesus, that was quick. This was a fun game actually. Talking suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him.

You took your shot and bit right into his fingers.

“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”

And, yea, you could actually. You shut Joe up with kisses of your own this time.

You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.

It felt momentous because you’d shared words that had been stuck in the back of your throat for a while now.

It felt momentous because Joe just told you that he loved you.

It felt momentous because you said it right back and everything about it felt right.

It felt momentous because you were going to have loud shower sex and Josh was likely going to hear you and you actually didn’t care about it. You cared more about the pizza that was slowly defrosting on the kitchen counter which actually sounded like the perfect breakfast food, if you were being honest.

You and Joe were just flatmates, but not.

Were just close, but more.

Were in love. Had said the words now, for the other to hear with their ears, and wasn’t that a shocking turn of events after last night?

Joe couldn’t explain it if he tried.

Didn’t really want to either.

As long as you knew. As long as you understood.

And you did. The proof was in the pudding.

Something felt alive in Joe’s chest. And in yours too.

Maybe someday, they could meet.

Have a chat.

Talk things through.

Or not.

They could also just look at each other. Sit on the sofa. Curl into each other and eat pizza. Watch the first ten minutes of films before they’d doze off together. Make fun of plants that got overwatered in a desperate attempt to keep them alive because they were buddies with yours and Joe could never be responsible for the death of plants that had friends, were you joking?

They’d call you idiots.

And, yea you were.

But it was fine.

You were just close. In love. Together. And that didn’t need explaining. As long as you knew and understood, that was all that mattered.

You were all that mattered.

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

Your love.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #reinvent love #define close #explain us

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morgana-larkin · 2 days

Text

Alright peeps! So I took a look at the poll and saw that most of you wanted the second part of 'Don't Call Me That' the most so here it is! There's everything in this one, heartbreak, angst, smut and fluff. A bit of a rollercoaster so good luck!

On another note: I'm working on part 4 of 'Mine' as that was the second most voted on. I also realise the poll is still open for another 4 hours but idc, you can still vote though!

Don't Call Me That - Part 2

Warnings: Smut, angst, lots of fluff (Not in that specific order lol), happy ending

Words: 4.2k

Melissa didn’t get any sleep last night. Everytime she closed her eyes, all she imagined was you kissing her, and nothing was on her mind except the thought of you saying you love her. You still love her, even after her breaking up with you.

Melissa walked into Abbott a little earlier, she needed extra caffeine considering she got 0 hours of sleep last night. She barely survived the day, not only from lack of sleep, but seeing you multiple times, and everytime all she thinks about is your lips on hers.

The next day she barely got any sleep, about 2 hours. The next day was the same. She thought that at least it was Friday and she could sleep in on Saturday. On Friday, everyone can clearly see the bags under her eyes as they’ve darkened over the week, and the way she can barely stay awake. Melissa thinks that it’s good her students have a test to do today and a book report coming up, and a couple other things she can get them to do instead of teaching.

At the end of the day, you go to walk to your car and you pass by Melissa’s classroom and you can see her asleep at her desk. You walk in and you see there’s no one else there, so you walk over to her and shake her a bit. “Melissa?” you say and she groans but doesn’t wake. “Melissa!” You just about yell and she opens her eyes but doesn’t move her head. You kneel down to her level and look at her. “Hey, saw you sleeping, you ok?” you ask her and she looks at you with the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Am I dreaming?” she asks you and you tilt your head.

“What makes you think you’re dreaming?” you ask her.

“Because you’re here, you wouldn’t talk to me otherwise. If I was awake then you would just avoid me because I’m an idiot.” she says and you look down and sigh.

“Ok, come on. I’ll drive you home and then you can continue dreaming ok?” you tell her and help guide her up from her chair. You take her purse with you and help guide her to your car, as well as buckle herself in as she didn’t have the strength to do it herself. “Why have you been so tired this week?” You ask as you get in the driver’s seat and start the car.

“Because I’m being haunted by my stupidity.” She says and you snort, you then back out of the parking spot and pull out of the parking lot.

“What stupidity have you done?” You ask her.

“Breaking up with my girlfriend, Y/n.” She tells you and you then realise she has no idea where she is and might still think she’s dreaming. You know you probably shouldn’t but this might be your chance to figure out what’s really going on with her.

“Why was that a stupid decision?”

“Because I still love her so much. All I think about when I try to sleep is her kissing me or her saying she loves me. I can’t do this anymore, I need her.” She says and a few tears slip. “I’ve barely slept these past 4 days, I probably got no more than 8 hours of sleep combined. I’ve barely eaten as well. I broke up with her 3 months ago and I was still able to sleep and eat, I don’t know what changed.” She says and you think about it, you should probably help her out.

“Do you feel guilty all of a sudden?” And she lets out an airy laugh.

“I’ve felt guilty ever since I thought I should break up with her?”

“Ok, so not that then. What about the fact that she told you she loves you?” You ask her and she doesn’t say anything. “Maybe you thought her feelings for you would disappear when you broke up with her cause you thought that she would just find someone else?” You tell her and she still doesn’t say anything. You thought maybe she fell asleep so you glance over at her and she’s still awake. “Melissa?” You say and she looks up at you. “Did you really break up with me because you thought I should be with someone else?” You ask her and she sighs.

“Ya.” she says and takes a deep breath. “I was holding you back from everything you’ve wanted so I let you go so I wouldn’t be in the way because I love you and I want you to be happy, even if I had to watch someone else make you happy and give you what you want.” she tells you and her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep.

The rest of the car ride, you think about what she said. You’re honestly surprised by what she said. She thought she was doing something selfless for you, but instead just ended up hurting you both, she never meant to hurt you so much. And now you see the toll it’s taken on her to stick to her decision to try and make you happy. She’s willing to sacrifice her happiness for yours, you never thought anyone would do that for you.

As soon as you pull into her driveway, you gently wake her up. “Come on Melissa, you’re home, we should gotta get you to your bed and you can sleep comfortably, ok?” You tell her and she nods. She unbuckles herself but can’t open the door fully so you do that for her. You unlock her door with her key and you help bring her inside. You set her keys and purse at the door and you close and lock her door while she attempts to take her shoes off. You end up helping her with her shoes when she falls down and you help her back up and to her room. She falls on the bed when you get there and then you tuck her in, you go to leave after but she grabs your arm and you turn to face her.

“Will you stay with me?” She asks softly and you sigh.

“Ok, but only until you fall asleep.” You tell her and she nods. You get on the bed but stay on the covers instead of under and she wraps an arm around you. You admit that you do miss this and you miss her and her craziness. You turn around to face her and she’s still awake and looking at you.

“I do want you back, y/n.” She tells you and strokes your hair.

“What’s stopping you?” You ask her and she yawns and is slowly closing her eyes.

“The fact that you won’t be happy with me.” She says and falls asleep. You stay looking at her stunned and go over everything she’s told you, thinking that you weren’t you or she was dreaming. You then slowly crawl out from her hold on you and you replace it with a pillow so she doesn’t wake up.

A few hours later Melissa wakes up. She opens her eyes and realises she’s in her bed and has no idea what happened this week that well as she’s been so tired that the whole week has been a blur. She looks at her phone and sees that it’s 5:43pm and it’s Friday. She gets out of bed and hears some noises downstairs, she then grabs her bat and carefully goes downstairs. She gets to the middle of the stair when she sees you on the couch watching tv and she tilts her head and stares for a few seconds. She then continues down the stairs and you look over at her and chuckle.

“Were you planning on hitting me with a bat? You were friendlier when you were falling in and out of consciousness.” You tease her and she looks confused. “Do you remember anything from the end of the day to how you got home?” You ask her and she stares at you then shakes her head. “I found you asleep at your desk and then I drove you home. If you want I can drive you to the school parking lot to get your car and then go home.” You tell her, you don’t want to scare her if what she said while on the verge of sleep was true.

“You drove me home?” She tells you and you nod. “W-why?”

“Because I want to make sure you didn’t fall asleep at the wheel or stay at school overnight.” You simply say. “I bet you’re hungry since you also haven’t been eating, so I made you some mac n’ cheese.” You tell her and you go and get it.

“How do you know I haven’t been eating?” She asks when you reappear with a bowl.

“Cause you told me.” You tell her when you hand it to her and sit back on the couch. “Come sit.” You say as you pat the couch cushion.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone that.” She tells you as she obeys and goes to sit beside you on the couch.

“Wow you really don’t remember anything you told me.” You say and she freezes as she was about to take a bite.

“What do you mean?” She asks and takes a bite of the food.

“I mean we had a whole conversation while you kept falling asleep. In your classroom, my car and here, at your house.”

“What did I tell you?” She asks and prepares for the worst.

“Now I don’t want you to get freaked out ok? Cause you had no idea where you were or who I really was.” You tell her and that makes her feel worse.

“Y/n. What did I tell you.”

“You told me that you still love and miss me and you want me back.” You say and her eyes go wide. “You also told me the whole reason you let me go.” You add and she drops her fork. “And why you haven’t been sleeping, and you confessed that you’ve also barely ate in the past 4 days.” You finish and she’s just staring at you. After about 10 seconds she gets up and walks to the kitchen with her mac n’ cheese and you follow after her. She puts the bowl on the counter without much thought and she puts her hands in her hair. “Melissa?” You say to get her attention and she turns around looking scared and concerned. “What’s going on with you?”

“With me? It’s the fact that you weren’t supposed to know anything that I told you.” She tells you and she’s breathing hard like she’s on the verge of either a breakdown or lots of tears.

“Why? Because I’m just supposed to be happy with someone else as you suffer?” You tell her.

“YES!” She shouts and then looks surprised when she catches up with what you told her and what she confessed. “Since I already told you then I might as well say it. All those things that you want, you won’t get with me. But you will with someone else, someone else who wants to get married, have a family with you, wants to go out and be young and stupid with you. I don’t want those things anymore, and yes I do love you very much and do want you back. But I’m willing to put aside my happiness, if it means you get everything you want.” She tells you and you burst into tears, she immediately wraps her arms around you and hugs you. Your knees buckle and she guides you both to the floor gently and she keeps her arms around you the whole time. When you get to the floor, you place your head on her chest and she brings a hand to your head and strokes it soothingly.

You slow your crying down and sniffle a few times before you speak. “I don’t deserve you. You’re willing to give me everything at the expense of your own happiness. I really don’t deserve you.” You tell her.

“No, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You have been the bestest friend to me for 2 years before we got together, and after we got together you have shown me the best of love and care that I could ever ask for.” She tells you, and you look up at her and immediately kiss her. She automatically kisses you back before she has time to think. Once her brain catches up to what she’s doing, she doesn’t have the willpower to pull away, she used it all trying to stay away from you. Before she can register what she’s doing, she leans forward, bringing you back until you hit the floor of the kitchen. You make out on the kitchen floor for a good minute until you both pull away for air and you look at each other. Melissa suddenly is aware of what she did and she gets up before you could stop her and she scurries to the living room, you run after her.

“Melissa, would you stop running away from me!” You tell her and she’s turned away from you with her head down.

“You should leave y/n.” Is all she says and you walk up to her and spin her around.

“If you want me to leave then tell me while looking at me.” You say and she raises her eyes to your face and she’s crying.

“I can’t.” She says and you put your hands on her cheeks and wipe the tears away.

“Melissa, I want to be with you. If being with you means that I don’t get married, have kids or go to the bar every now and then with you then so be it. Because I’m only wanting to marry the right person, and that person is you. So if I’m with you or not, I’m not getting married. I don’t need kids to feel fulfilled, or to be able to say I have a family. I mean we can always get a pet like a dog, but you’re all the family I need. And I can go to the bars with my friends and be young and stupid with them from time to time if I really want.” You tell her and she starts crying even more.

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything just to be with me.”

“Melissa, it’s not a sacrifice if what I’m getting is a life with you.” You tell her and you kiss her. Melissa immediately pulls back and looks at you, her hands on your head.

“Are you sure? You have to be 100% sure y/n.” She tells you and you think it over for all of 2 seconds and you nod your head.

“I’m 100% sure, I want to be with you Melissa.” You tell her and she smiles.

“I want to be with you too.” She says and this time she goes to kiss you. The kiss deepens and you start putting your hands all over her and you think you want to touch her skin and she’s wearing too much clothes, so you put your hands under her shirt. Melissa immediately pulls her shirt off so you can touch her and you unclip her bra and take it off. She’s always been the dominant one but at this moment, all you want to do is kiss her all over, so you walk forward until her back hits a wall and you go down to her neck and kiss and suck all over and she’s gasping under you. You then travel down to her chest and leave kisses all over until you attach your mouth to her nipples and start to suck and lick them.

She’s bucking her hips under you and you know she’s not far away from pulling all her clothes off herself and guiding you inside of her. You’re working on her second nipple when she pushes you off and guides you to your knees. You go immediately into submissive like always and you pull her pants and underwear off. Melissa leans back against the wall and spreads her legs a little further so you can put your mouth there.

You attach your mouth to her clit and she starts bucking her hips right away and you pin her to the wall. Her hands go to your hair and she’s gasping and moaning at your touch. “Oh god, Y/n, that feels so good baby.” She says and when you know she’s getting close, you pull away and stand up. You push your body into hers and immediately insert two fingers in her and put your thumb on her clit. “God Y/N, I missed you so much.” She says and kisses you. She’s so close as she starts shaking but she doesn’t pull away from your lips like she usually does, you aren’t complaining though, you missed her as well and you’re enjoying kissing her again.

She comes not long after she starts shaking but you don’t stop, you keep fingering her and circling her clit and she lets out a high pitched gasp. “Oh god baby, yes, omg, don’t stop.” She says as she pulls away from your lips and gives into the over sensitivity.

She comes again not too long after the first and then you withdraw your fingers and put them in your mouth to lick them. She looks at you as you lick your fingers and you moan and that’s when she takes action. She picks you up and brings you to the couch, you’re so glad that she decided to remove the plastic as this wouldn’t be comfortable. She put you so you’re sitting in the middle with your back resting on the back of the couch. She starts kissing and sucking your neck and pulls your shirt off. She unclips your bra and yanks it off right after then immediately brings her mouth to a nipple. You’re moaning and gasping under her and she smiles as she’s so happy that she’s back with you, she’s fully aware of how lucky she is right now and she won’t take it for granted. She takes more time on your nipples then she usually does and your patience is running thin as you’re dripping wet and you have a strong ache between your legs.

“Melissa, please, I need you inside of me, please.” You tell her and she pulls back from your chest and smiles at you. She gives a quick kiss on your lips then leaves a trail of kisses from your chest all the way to the top of your pants. She quickly removes your pants and underwear, spreads your legs, leaves a few kisses on each thigh and then attaches her mouth to your entrance. You gasp as soon as her hot wet tongue is where you need her the most and she starts moving her tongue all over your entrance before entering her tongue in you. You moan as she starts sliding her tongue in and out of you and you're holding onto her hair for dear life. You start grinding into her mouth to try and get more friction so you can come and for once she lets you keep doing it, normally she would pin you down when you start grinding. Even in the middle of amazing pleasure, that fact is not lost on you, you notice it immediately then start to think of everything else she’s done differently.

She kept kissing you when she was about to come and even when she came, when she usually pulls away as you love to hear her when she comes. She let you keep fingering her after she came and it seemed like she needed it as well, she only lets you make her come once as she usually ends up grinding your thigh when fingering you as she loves to watch you and it turns her on. She spent more time on your nipples then she usually does, to the point that you begged her to continue, and now letting you grind against her mouth. You put it all together and came to the conclusion, she’s letting you do whatever you want and making sure you feel good as she feels guilty. You reluctantly pull her mouth away and she looks at you confused,

“What is it baby?” She asks and her lips and chin is covered in your juices.

“Stop doing things differently, you don’t have to feel guilty ok. I feel really special about why you did what you did. No one has ever been willing to sacrifice their own happiness for mine.” You tell her and she smiles shyly.

“Of course, I’d do anything for you.” She tells you and you lean in closer to her.

“Then stop fucking me differently and start being yourself again.” You tell her and something flickers in her eyes before she pushes your head back to lean on the back of the couch then dives down to your clit and starts licking and sucking on it. Your fingers are still in her hair and you start grinding against her again, but this time she does pin your hips down. Then she does something she’s never done before, she snakes her hands around your hips and hooks her hands on your ass then pulls you up a bit and that gives her a perfect angle with your clit and you gasp her name out as you come.

She then immediately comes up and positions herself so her clit is on your thigh and she slides a finger in you and you moan as she starts sliding it in and out of you slowly. She then adds two more fingers and starts going faster while her thumb is on your clit and she brings her mouth near your ear.

“Unfortunately the strap is upstairs and I don’t have the patience to go get it, so we’ll have to make do with my fingers.” she says then adds a fourth and you cry out.

“OH MY GOD!!” You cry out as she fills you up with her fingers then her mouth goes to your neck and so much pleasure is coursing through you right now and you feel like moving but her grinding on your thigh is preventing you from doing that. So you do something else that will help stabilise you, you put your hands on her boobs and squeeze them. You don’t feel like that’s enough so you wrap an arm around her back and pull her into you more.

“Ooo” She says as she’s caught off guard by your actions. You come again about 5 seconds later and she doesn’t stop, she just keeps going until you come again and again and then you pull her away.

“Melissa, I can’t take anymore.” You tell her and she nods and gently pulls each finger out at a time.

“Sorry I got lost in the moment.” She tells you and you smile but your body is shaking from the amount of times you came. She notices and then goes to your side and brings you both to lay down while she cuddles you to give your body the chance to calm down. You turn around in her arms then nuzzle your head on her neck and chest and she holds you tighter. “It’s ok baby, I got you, and I don’t plan on going anywhere again.” She tells you and you only nod as you’re falling asleep. She notices that you fell asleep and she gently strokes your hair. “I promise I won’t leave you again.” She whispers to you. “I won’t make that mistake again.” She says and presses a kiss to your forehead.

*3 years later*

You and Melissa are both standing in front of the house as you unlock it then Melissa grabs your waist before you walk in and she pushes the door open.

“What are you doing Mel?” You ask her as you’re smiling at her and she smiles at you.

“Well shouldn’t I carry my bride across the threshold?” She asks you and then picks you up bridal style and you let out a small squeal and then she carries you inside then gently puts you down. She wraps her arms around your waist and you lean into her touch and she puts lays her chin on your shoulder. You both then hold out your left hands and smile at the ring on both your third finger.

Melissa kisses your neck and then your puppy comes running in and Kristen Marie running after her. You and Melissa decided to adopt a little puppy a few months ago and you both are really happy with your lives now. Melissa re-thought her decision about getting married and proposed to you a year and a half ago, much to your surprise. Then you both agreed on adopting a dog and Melissa named her Bella. Kristen Marie takes Bella out one more time before leaving her with you guys.

“Are you still alright with the fact that we got married?” You ask her.

“Oh, it’s more than alright baby. Cause I got to marry you, my happily ever after.” She tells you and you both kiss.

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