#inspection tropes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cerisereids · 12 days

Text

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂- 𝘀.𝗿.

pairing- s1!spencer reid x bau!reader

w.c.- 3.9k (wtf omg)

summary- spencer reid is your best friend. you’re in love with him, he wants someone else.

warnings- the jeid narrative in s14 pissed me off so bad i wrote this, miscommunication trope, reader obsesses over his hair (same), idiots in love, wingwoman!penelope

a/n- to be clear i am not a jj hater, i love her. i just don’t like what the writers tried to make happen between her and spencer

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the soft glow of the morning sun floats through the window, coating the bullpen of the behavioral analysis unit in a peaceful golden light. you bask in the soft start of your morning, a rarity in your line of work, sipping your coffee as your fingers clack against the computer keys. the peace of your morning is ripped from you suddenly, though, when gideon and hotch barge from their offices in quick pursuit of the conference room. the team immediately follows suit, scurrying after one another to follow the two men.

hotch stands at the head of the room, sternly describing the case file he’s just received. there is a serial killer in the d.c. area, obsessed with leaving texts of ancient egyptian script at the crime scenes. as an analyst for the bau, you’re assigned to stay in the conference room with spencer in order to help decipher what the killer is trying to tell authorities. you share a smile with the boy next to you, both eager to tackle yet another assignment together.

you were hired to the bau as a young academic fresh out of graduate school, the same year as spencer. you two initially bonded over your shared love of reading, of analyzing text. it’s this skill that’s made you an asset to the team. you can decipher handwriting left by criminals in order to profile them; you can understand and analyze complex documents left for you at crime scenes, just like in today’s case. you found a partner in spencer very early on. you two were assigned those kinds of analytical tasks often, and proved to be very good at it, good at working together, at being together.

it wasn’t long before the mere sight of him started to give you butterflies, your chest constricting with affection. you cherish the late nights you’ve spent with him, in and outside of the office, inspecting documents and handwriting samples, the times where you’ve reached for the same file and your fingers brush together. movie nights at his place on the weekends, when you get so tired you allow yourself to curl into him, to let him wrap his arms around you, to pretend you’re something more. something in your stomach grows hot, and your palms start to sweat. you barely even notice that everyone else has gone off on their own assignments, leaving you and spencer alone in the conference room together. he sends you a million dollar smile and you get to work.

after a few hours of hard work, you suggest taking a lunch break. your lungs rejuvenate from the fresh air as you eat in the courtyard. you close your eyes and tilt your head up, feeling the glow of the sun warm your face, sighing as the vitamin d floats through your body. you can feel spencer’s eyes on you, and your heart kicks against your chest. how much longer you can take without confessing to him, you’re not sure. the limbo of being in love with your best friend is a torturous predicament to be in, especially when you work with him.

“hey, i need to ask you something,” spencer mumbles, and you see him pull out two tickets to a cowboys football game.

your heart now hammers against you, like a boulder spasming in your chest. your hands are sweating, shaking; is this it? could he be doing the hard part for you?

“gideon gave me these on my birthday. i don’t know if you knew this, but it’s j.j.’s favorite team. i was thinking of asking her on a date with them, but i haven’t watched a football game in over ten years,” he chuckles sheepishly, squinting his eyes down from the sun. “do you think it’s a good idea? i thought i should come to you since you’re my best friend, you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”

best friend. those words pierce through your gut like you’ve been shot with an arrow. you’re thankful his eyes are turned away from you, so he can’t see the infliction of those two fateful words.

“um-yeah,” you breathe out, barely audible, “i think it’s a great idea. it doesn’t matter if you don’t really watch football. if she likes you she’ll want to spend time with you, no matter what,” you fake a smile and pray to anyone that would listen to please convey the true message of your words, what you’re really saying. you know it falls on deaf ears, though, as you turn to throw your half eaten lunch in the trash, returning inside 30 minutes earlier than agreed upon.

“woah-where are you going?” spencer hastily cleans his things and jogs to catch up with you.

“i just think we need to get back to work. this case isn’t going to solve itself,” you shoot him a bitter smile, opening the door and not holding it open for him behind you, like you always do.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

j.j.? you think to yourself as you now delegate your portion of the work at your desk. the thought of being trapped in that conference room alone with him after your conversation at lunch unzips a shiver down your spine. your forehead is resting in your palm as your brain fights to focus on the case, and not drift back to spencer.

you were in complete and utter disbelief that the object of his affections has been j.j. this whole time.

j.j. is your friend, and you’re not mad at her. it’s not her fault that she’s the one spencer’s developed feelings for. you’re just completely caught off guard, utter shock clinging to every nerve in your body. you thought, after all of those shy smiles you’ve shared alone in conference rooms, the late night conversations on the jet, the nights you’ve spent at his place, that they meant something more. you’re just shocked none of it did, and that you’ve completely misread your entire relationship with him.

if gideon gave him the tickets, that means he sees what’s going on between them, too. you furrow your brows, squeezing your eyes closed at this revelation. god, you feel so stupid. how could you have let your own feelings blindside you from what your best friend actually wants? you have no future in profiling, that’s for certain.

you see a shadow looming over your desk from your peripheral vision, and you know who it is merely from the outline of his hair. you look up to find a sheepish spencer reid, seemingly nervous to even be approaching you. you hate that. you hate the idea of him on a date with j.j. even more, though.

“what’s up?” you try to sound interested, but you can both hear the restraint lacing your tone.

“i think i found something. we, uh-we need to gather the rest of the team,” he states.

his voice is quiet, small, his big brown eyes are boring into yours. you nod. the tension grows thicker the longer you stare at each other, eyes desperate to convey everything your mouths are too afraid to say. the file spencer was holding slips through his fingers, falling on your desk with a crisp clack. the noise cuts through the trance you find yourselves in, and you go red as a tomato, looking in your lap to avoid those lethal eyes.

“let’s go,” you mutter, walking past him without so much as a glance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

over the course of the next week, you spend many work hours nursing your bruised ego in penelope’s batcave of an office. as the two analysts of the team, a lot of your work overlaps, so hotch didn’t raise a brow at the sudden change in your routine, not working with spencer so much. you’re able to tell her about everything going on with him during your brief moments of down time, when you’re filing paperwork or doing light research.

“oh. my. god.” she gasps, aware of your feelings of him from the start, “babe. no way,” she swivels her chair so she’s fully facing you, “i’m sorry! i thought he was into you, too,” she frowns, handing you a unicorn plushie from her desk drawer, “here, take mr. unicorn. he’s the best man on the planet.”

you chuckle sadly and squeeze the soft animal, utilizing its comfort as much as you can. “thanks, pen,” you settle your cheek on the squishy animal’s head and look at her sadly, eyes glassy and big, “i think it was too good to be true. he’s almost too perfect, maybe this is a sign.”

you see her deflate at your defeated tone, her hand reaching out to grab yours, running her thumb over your skin. you stay like that for a moment, allowing yourself to feel the complex emotions you’ve suppressed throughout the week. you’ve only spoken to spencer two or three times this week, about work things only, and it’s wednesday. each day that passes like this weighs heavy, like an anvil on your heart. the feeling is so overwhelming you have no choice but to suppress it until you get home, lest the floodgates are unleashed in the same vicinity as the perpetrator.

paperwork it is.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

that following monday, you sit, stewing at your desk, desperate to blend in to the background. you think back to one week ago, one week since you’ve had that fateful conversation with spencer. you nearly have whiplash from how fast things have changed in only a week. you yearn for the softness of that morning, of the blissful ignorance in thinking that you actually had a chance with spencer reid. your heart aches, the vulnerable throb in your chest paralyzing you. you rest your chin in your hands as your eyes mindlessly drift over emails you missed from the weekend, willing your brain to not work so hard unless absolutely necessary.

you’re snapped out of your pity party by the click of a door unlatching, the soft patter of converse on tile filling the bullpen. your eyes involuntarily follow spencer as he barges in. he’s impossible to ignore, clad in the most adorable button up/sweater vest combo you have ever seen in your life, walking full speed ahead with a scowl planted firmly on his face. the look on his face is so wholly unfamiliar, a look of hurt masking his usually soft features, the light in his eyes gone. the contrast is enough to shock you back to life once more, now registering a flustered penelope hot on his tail. the click of her heels echo through the bullpen in a desperate attempt to keep up with a man who is nearly a foot taller.

“spencer-wait! ugh!“ penelope grunts as spencer falls into his desk chair, immediately using work as a means to deflect. his back is to her as he sifts through the files littering his desk.

you study him from where you sit, his brows furrowed, his shoulders slumped, and lips in a tiny pout that pokes and prods at your heart. penelope gives up quick, turning away with a grunt and a look on her face that read ‘don’t ask’. on her way past your desk, though, she leans in and whispers, “meet me in my office after our meeting,” making your eyes go wide and your heart pick up in speed.

you use the new case to distract your mind from what could possibly be going on with spencer, and opt to stay back with penelope during this case. when you make your decision known in the conference room, spencer flinches. you just barely catch it out of your peripheral, you’re not sure you would have even registered it had garcia not smacked you in the thigh immediately after it happened. hotchner’s eyes flit from you, to penelope, then to reid. morgan coughs. the team is then dismissed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“she brought you to the date?!” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“yes! i had no idea it was the date,” penelope gushes. you’re setting up materials for the case, waiting for the team to land for more information. in the meantime, she fills you in on the weekend, “i’d just assumed it was a separate event. it never occurred to me that she would invite another person to that. poor spencer’s never been so disappointed to see me,” her tone turns a bit guilty at that, and now it’s your turn to flinch at his name.

“that’s insane, why would she do that?” you ask, bewildered.

“to be honest with you, i have a few ideas…” penelope teases, setting up her computer for the day.

your eyes narrow into slits as she files her nail, feet up and resting on the desk as the rest of her equipment loads.

“what?” you breathe out, even though you both knew.

“come on,” she kicks her feet off the desk and swivels to face you, frozen in front of a box of files, stricken by what you both know is coming next, “it’s you. he has feelings for you, for sure. j.j. knows it too, everyone does. we all see it.”

“really?” you once again can’t believe your ears. relief floods your veins, the rush too sweet to pay attention to your conscious, desperate to sprinkle some guilt in there. you don’t care, though, not after the pure and utter agony of the past week.

“yes, of course! he likes you, i have no doubt about it,” penelope states matter of factly.

you round the corner of the desk and come to sit on a chair opposite her, “what makes you say that?” you’re unintentionally severe, palms resting flat on your thighs, leaning into her as to not miss a word. luckily for you, though, penelope is just as intense.

“it became clear to me when i saw them interact at the game. yes his ego was bruised a little, but he was light, airy. almost relieved. nothing like how he came in today,” she remarks, and your brows knit together in confusion.

“so you’re saying he was at ease with her, but nervous and grumpy when he had to be around me. that doesn’t make any sense,” penelope rolls her eyes at your denial, but you’re quick at the defense with a new argument, “and he told me gideon gave him those tickets to ask her out on a date. it’s her favorite team.”

you cross your arms across your chest and lean back, “i appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, penelope, but if the best profiler on the team could tell he likes her, then he likes her. not me.”

just saying it causes the crack in your chest to reappear, callusing your heart once more.

“ugh, no!” she exclaims, “you two are the most stubborn people i’ve ever met in my life, i swear!” she rolls her eyes and turns back to her now fully loaded equipment as your jaw hangs open in shock.

“what is that supposed to mean?” you lightly scoff.

“all i’m saying is that he was relieved that j.j. brought me, that he was being rejected. after the initial disappointment passed, that is. you’re going to have to get the rest of the information from spencer himself,” she decides, just as her phone starts to ring. saved by the bell, damn her. “talk to each other. you miss each other. everybody can tell and it’s getting sad, like watching two lost puppies roam aimlessly without each other.”

before you can give an answer to her crazy analogy, she turns away from you and flips open her cell phone, “talk to me!” she chirps, and hotch’s stern voice brings you back to the task at hand. you’ll simply have to talk to spencer later. great.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the team was able to land back at home that same night, luckily closing a quick case. after penelope says goodbye to you and spencer, you’re both the last ones in the bullpen. you two anxiously glance around, desperate for anybody else to be there, to break the suffocating tension between you two, thick and heavy with unanswered questions, words unsaid.

as you walk past spencer’s desk, he goes to walk with you, next to you. you haven’t been this close in proximity to him in a week, and the smell of his cologne, his aftershave, makes you heady. you both stop at the elevator, unsure who should go first. you decide on impulse that it has to be you, you can’t take this any longer. you turn to face him, and say the first thing that comes to your mind,

“she brought penelope?”

had it been anybody else, you may have kicked yourself for shoving your foot squarely into your mouth, but it’s spencer, so he laughs. it’s an eye creasing, cheeks bunched up, teeth showing kind of laugh, and you have no choice but to laugh, too. there’s a pang in your heart as this familiarity dawns upon the two of you once again. you’re desperate to keep it, so much so that you don’t move when the elevator dings and the doors open. neither of you do. you stand there, taking each other in, cheeks warm and breathing heavy, as the doors slide close once again.

“yeah. yeah, she brought penelope,” he remarks, red ears hiding behind his slickened hair. your eyes focus on one particular lock that’s fallen over his forehead, nearly in his eye. a sense of longing pierces your heart like cupid’s arrow, you fall in love with him all over again.

“you should wear your hair curly more,” you croak. spencer is unphased at your sudden change of topic, and sends you a small smile.

you’re the only one on the team that’s seen him with his hair curly. you revel in it any time you’re lucky enough to get a glimpse, when you’re sharing a hotel room or his couch on movie night. a strange nostalgia seizes you as you take in his hair, not realizing how much you’ve missed it, missed him until you’re standing there, taking all of him in.

“maybe i’ll start,” he says back gently, another silence falling between the two of you.

“l-listen, i have something i need you to know,” he says, turning to face you, tone growing more confident as he speaks, “gideon told me to ask out j.j. because i’ve been heartbroken over you for weeks.”

time stops.

“heartbroken?” you’re incredulous. “why? what did i do?” you’re nearly panicking, racking your brain for what you could have done to your best friend.

“n-nothing really. i think i heard you talking to penelope about me one day, about how you don’t see me in that way,” he stutters a bit, his head turned down to hide his flushed cheeks, “i thought there was something between us, but after hearing that-i-i just assumed you didn’t feel the same. it made sense, girls like you don't typically go for guys like me.”

your heart cracks in your chest, “spencer,” you whisper out, “don’t say that,” it’s all you can muster. he’s the most beautiful man on the planet. you’ve never been so sure of anything.

he rolls his eyes and you want to shake him until he believes it, “well, he gave me the tickets to try and put myself out there with someone else. j.j. is great, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not you. no one is,” he says, eyes boring into yours.

you take in every word falling from his lips, your brows marrying together. your brain is flying at a mile a minute trying to remember the conversation he’s talking about. suddenly, you stop. your gaze turns to him, eyes wide as the memory comes to you. it had to have been two months since then, but you knew that wasn’t a problem for spencer. if he overheard, he remembers every word out of your mouth.

you were chatting with penelope in the empty conference room. it was a monday, and you had gone out on a date the weekend before. he was the topic of conversation right before spencer came in, how he was ‘so cute’ with his ‘brown eyes and curly brown hair’, how he was ‘the perfect height- like 6’1-6’2’. and yet, you only liked him as a friend. the reality was, you were searching for spencer in every man you pursued, and none of them ever measured up to him. how could they?

“spencer,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands, “i went on a date that weekend. that’s who i was talking about. not you,” the last part comes out in a whisper as realization dawns on spencer’s face, uncertainty dancing through his big brown eyes.

“why didn’t you tell me you had a date?” he asks, puzzled, “is that why you couldn’t come over for movie night that weekend?”

your heart breaks even more, if that’s possible at this point, you wanted to be there. you wanted to be there so badly.

“i had convinced myself that it would never happen. you and me,” you start, and his eyes grow even wider than before, “i was looking for you every time. in every date. that’s why i never told you. it would never work out anyway, because they weren’t you. i wasn’t brave enough to admit that to myself until just now, i guess,” you grow a bit sheepish as you finish your explanation, your eyes glossy. your gaze finds the floor to avoid his piercing gaze. those eyes will kill you one day.

“what does that mean?” he says, so gentle, so spencer.

“it means i’m in love with you. i have been for years, since we started together,” you gush, tears finally falling over your lash line at your confession.

his eyes shut too, a gentle flutter of lashes against his cheek. you see a tear escape down his cheek, too.

“i love you, too. god, i love you too,” he whispers, moving immediately to scoop you up in his arms. he presses the elevator button again, finally getting you two out of there. he keeps you in his arms, carrying you into the elevator, refusing to let go as he squeezes you tight, legs wrapped around his waist as the doors close shut behind you.

as you descend, you reluctantly put your shaky legs on the floor, pulling away slightly to find his gaze.

“hi,” you whisper, biting your lip to try and suppress the cheesy smile taking over. you fail, grinning so wide and so bright, you’re afraid you might blind him.

“hi, beautiful,” he whispers back, brushing your hair back softly with his hand. he then cradles your jaw in his palm, pressing his soft lips against yours.

it’s a gentle kiss, but a passionate one. you both wish desperately to convey every single time you wanted each other, how long you’ve loved each other.

spencer pulls away from you for a brief moment to ask, “do you want to be my girlfriend? i think maybe we should try dating each other,” his sarcasm has you grinning from ear to ear.

“i think that’s the most genius idea you’ve had yet, doctor,” you lean in to kiss him again. he groans at the title, lips surrendering back into yours.

the ding of the elevator breaks your kiss, and you can’t hide your cheesy grins as you walk into the parking garage, your pinkies linked together.

“do you wanna come back to my apartment tonight? we can watch a movie?” spencer suggests nervously, like you’d say no. god, you love him.

“that sounds perfect,” you smile, pulling him in for another kiss. you can tell he’s expecting a light peck, but you deepen it, your hand finding the nape of his neck. your lips softly click together as you move against each other, your tongue just barely slipping into his mouth.

“see you at home,” you wink and get into your own car, leaving a flustered spencer reid in your wake.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler #mgg

2K notes · View notes

finalgirllx · 2 months

Text

Mattheo's Nurse

my own take on a favorite trope - healing mattheo after one of his many, many fights. for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge, the prompt i went off of was 'why do you do this for me? are you sure you're not in love with me?'

1.2k words | suggestive content | minors dni | f!reader implied

Becoming Mattheo Riddle's personal nurse was not part of your grand plan. However, an incidental run-in where you tended to him after a courtyard scuffle led him to recognize you as possibly the only person who would help him with concern devoid of judgment. That's how you fell into a routine of him 'just happening' to appear wherever you were settled, weaponizing his puppy eyes until you eventually agreed to patch up his wounds in order to minimize his visits to the hospital wing.

Mattheo had come to your dorm room tonight, causing you to let out a dramatic sigh, wordlessly directing him to sit on your desk chair while you fetched your ever-expanding collection of first-aid supplies.

As you inspected his marred knuckles with a light touch, he winced from the pain at the pressure points. There was some swelling, discoloration, and a hefty set of cuts all over his one fist. The drying blood along his joints seemed not to be his own.

"Oh, stop that," you chided him over his complaints. "Shouldn't you be used to the ache at this point? Damn masochist, aren't you," you continued, poking fun at Mattheo while casting 'glacius' on the water packs you had gathered just for this reason.

In response to your ribbing, Mattheo playfully bit his inner cheek, his expression shifting from pained to something more suggestive.

"You'd like that, I'm sure," he quipped. His eyes narrowed, trying to persuade yours to meet his as you applied the ice pack to his scratched hand. "You make quite the nurse," he continued, his voice dripping with flirtation. "And quite the sight, too. Seeing your pretty face distracts me from any wounds to my dignity. You think candy stripers are still a thing? Might be easier to tend to me in a shorter skirt," he added while his less injured hand found a comfortable resting spot where your waist met your hip.

"A better patient would stop causing such a distraction," you countered swiftly, deliberately avoiding that very gaze because you knew how quickly you would fold for the magnetism of his deep brown eyes. Yet, your actions defied your attitude as you allowed his hand to remain where it rested, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your clothing, which sent a shiver up your spine.

Mattheo smirked, indicating just how much he wanted to acknowledge what you both felt.

"Let me guess. You don't just carry around medical supplies because you want to play doctor," he mused. "I think you're helping me weekly because you're in love with me," he wiggled his brows, confident in his suggestion.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, silently conceding to the truth in his words but unwilling to admit it. Instead, you quickly regain your composure, lightly patting his cheek before adopting a more serious expression. "Hush, you're being disorderly. I can't fix you up with all this chatter," you scolded playfully, feigning annoyance.

Mattheo hissed, his eyes scrunching shut, reigniting your helper mode out of fear you had touched another sore spot. The guilt was short-lived, however, when the prick turned his head in both directions to show a bruise forming along the other side of his cheek, not the one you had touched. He just wanted to tease you, prompting you to retaliate with an additional pat out of spite on the uninjured cheek.

"Stop this. Remember, your life is in my hands; don't forget," you quipped snippily.

"Regardless of your consistent threats to my life, every time I come to you for help, I’m choosing to put my trust in you because you have feelings for me. And that's also why you're avoiding looking at me," he countered with a smug attitude, correctly assuming that this would finally get you to lock eyes with him. Which you did; looking right into his eager gaze paired with long lashes of everyone's envy. Even the few curls splayed over his forehead added to the appeal that despite him just coming from another bloody fight, you had to utilize every ounce of willpower to avoid melting at his ability to switch from intimidating to irresistible in an instant.

"Also, as my nurse, I’m surprised you don't know the cure-all to any injury," Mattheo begins again, and you suspect more nonsense is about to spill out.

You couldn't help but scoff. "What would that be?"

"A kiss."

You were utterly undone. "Bloody hell," you muttered, blushing profusely before deciding to indulge him this one time. You wouldn't quite treat him to some lip action, however. So instead of giving in entirely, you placed a small, modest peck on the tip of his nose.

The giddy expression that overcame him was worth it to see, but Mattheo, being himself, couldn't resist being a little greedy and pushing his luck further.

"Oh, on the nose? That only gets me halfway there," he complained with mock concern.

You could only smirk. Mattheo seemed to know better despite all attempts to convince him otherwise, which wasn't surprising given how perceptive he was. That, coupled with your consistent fumbling and his astute observation of your unwavering willingness to help him every time. Still, you weren't ready. While Mattheo's charm did get him quite far in leaving a lasting impression on you, you also knew that relinquishing yourself to the growing feelings would entangle you with the rest of his troubles, just as he would with yours. For now you'd prefer to let it simmer rather than dive right in. However, it didn't hurt to fantasize about how it would go.

For example, giving into the desire that your entire body ached for, to crawl into his lap and crash your lips against his. You longed to taste the metallic tang lingering from his blood-stained bottom lip that stirred with the scent of his cigarette addiction. You wanted to experience the absolute bliss that the softness of those pillowy lips would guarantee, all the while feigning surprise that this hardened bad boy could have any soft spots at all.

You craved to feel the hands responsible for splitting countless jaws roam your body with an unprecedented level of adoration, letting him fondle every last curve to ensure he learned all of it. You wanted him to discover all of your weak spots and master the art of caressing them in such a way as to elicit endless waves of pleasure every time. You yearned for him to possessively grope your ass, keeping yourself pressed to him as closely as possible while his other hand held the back of your head to draw out your kisses. His touches would solidify you as his, not just as his 'nurse' but in every sense that someone could belong to another.

Snapping yourself from drifting thoughts, you managed to deflect under the guise of needing to retrieve more supplies for an additional small cut you had overlooked. You came back, and despite your hesitancy, you wanted to leave Mattheo with a glimmer of hope.

"Tell you what," you started. "Let your hands heal so they can be of full use, and I'll grant you the other half of that kiss."

"Atta girl. That I can do," he grinned triumphantly.

"Yes, yes, now hold still so I can properly heal you."

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin #slytherin boys #hogmarch challenge #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter fanfic

2K notes · View notes

joelmillerisapunk · 2 months

Text

unbelievable

mechanic!Joel x f!reader

masterlist

wordcount: 4,489

summary: the 'It's not just your car that needs fixing, is it?' Trope

warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, lots of fingering, there's a joint, lots of 'sweetheart', some aftercare but like a bit different (I don't wanna spoil it) mentions of anxiety (bc I'm an anxious bltch and this would happen to me) fluffy smut?

notes: hiii 🥰 I hope you like mechanicJoel because I fell in love with him so fast, he has no right being so hot 🙃 The title is unbelievable by diamond rio, it felt pretty accurate to my inner Joel dialogue. a big thank you to @saradika-graphics & @firefly-graphics for the dividers (graphic designers deserve the world honestly)

You've always had a thing for rugged men, and Joel Miller is the epitome of a handsome, rough-around-the-edges mechanic. His strong hands, grease-stained clothes, and confident demeanor make your heart race every time you see him, which has been a lot recently since your old car has been having its fair share of problems.

It's a hot summer day, and you decide to visit the garage where Joel works, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. As you walk in, the smell of oil and gasoline fills your nostrils, making you feel a little lightheaded. But then, you see him. He's hunched over a car engine, his muscular arms covered in sweat and grime. Your heart skips a beat as you take in the sight of him.

You approach Joel, trying to act cool and collected, even though your insides are turning to jelly. "Hey, Joel," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I was wondering if you could help me with my car again. It's been making a weird noise, and I don't know what to do."

Joel looks up at you, his beautiful brown eyes meeting yours. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of grease on his face. "Sure thing, sweetheart," he says with an almost knowing grin. You've been coming to see him every couple of weeks for the past few months. "Let me take a look for you, darlin."

As Joel inspects your car, you can't help but steal glances at his muscular physique. You imagine what it would be like to run your hands over his firm chest and his stomach, to feel his stubble scratch against your skin as he kisses you. The thought makes you wet, and you squirm, trying to hide your arousal.

But Joel notices. He looks up at you, his gaze intense and seductive. "You seem a little flustered, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "Is there something on your mind?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your nerves. The heat in the garage is making you feel more and more flustered, and the idea of Joel noticing your arousal only adds to your embarrassment. "Uh, yeah, I guess so," you manage to reply.

Joel's eyes rake over your body, taking in the way your shirt clings to your body and the way your nipples are hardening under the hot conditions. "I can tell you've been coming to see me for a while now. It's not just your car that needs fixing, is it?"

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can feel the heat rising to your face. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammer, trying to deny the truth even to yourself.

But Joel isn't backing down. He steps closer to you, his body towering over yours. "I can help you with your car, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low growl. "But if you're looking for something else, something a little more personal, I can do that too."

Your mind is racing as you try to figure out what to do. On one hand, you've always had a thing for rough-and-tumble men like Joel, and the idea of being with him is almost too much to bear. On the other hand, you're not sure if you're ready for something like that with someone you're not even dating. As you stand there, frozen in indecision, Joel reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. "It's okay, darlin," he says, his voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to decide right now. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Joel continues working on your car, he takes his time, making sure to do everything a little slower. He runs his hand over the engine, and with every turn of the wrench and every adjustment of parts, you can't help but feel your heart race, your skin tingle, and your body heat up. He's wearing a pair of tight jeans that hug his thighs, and every time he bends over the car, you catch a glimpse of the outline of his bulge. You wonder what it would feel like to touch him there, to feel him hard and ready against your skin. Your mind races with fantasies of him taking you, claiming you, making you his in ways that go far beyond the mechanical fixings of a car.

Joel takes a bit of a break from your car, and you think he's about to tell you what was wrong with it. "You know, sweetheart, I could fix more than just your car," he repeats himself again, " I could fix all your problems, make you feel good in ways you've never felt before."

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "What do you mean?"

Joel grins, a knowing look in his eyes. "I mean, I could show you the kind of fixings that only a man like me can provide," he says, his voice low and seductive. "Make you mine, take you right here. I promise you, it's something you'd never forget.”

“Oh, uh I, uhm I need to -” You pause, looking at your phone, “I have a thing soon. So I should uh go when you're done.” You can barely keep yourself together as you fumble through your sentence.

Joel smirks, "Of course, sweetheart," he says, his voice reassuring. "When you're ready, I'll be here.”

As you exit the garage, you feel a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through your veins. Joel's words have left you feeling both turned on and terrified at the same time.

You spend the next few hours trying to shake off the encounter, but your mind keeps wandering back to Joel's words and the way his body made you feel. You can't stop thinking about the way his muscles bulged under his tight jeans, or the way his hair curled, his strong jawline, or the way those lips would part everytime he would focus on your car. You want to touch him, taste him, feel him- anything. And you're desperate to hear him speak that sexy accent of his once again.

When you finally arrive home, you let yourself into your apartment and immediately head straight for your bedroom. You shed your clothes as fast as possible, trying to rid your entire day from your skin. After your shower, you pull on a pair of shorts, your favorite oversized t shirt before padding barefoot across the carpeted floor of your room.

Just as you're opening your bedroom door to get a snack, your phone rings. You glance at your screen - a number with no name showing up - before answering the call, your heart pounding in anticipation. “Hello?”

You can hear a woman's voice in the background, "I told you not to come in my office. You can't just call random clients." Then you hear a muffled males voice and the woman again. "Yes... I understand she hasnt paid, but we don't contact clients until the end of the month."

You sit there unsure of what to do, should you say something? Should you hang up? Should you ignore her? Suddenly, you hear yelling. "Out - now!" she exclaims before apologizing for the misunderstanding and hanging up the phone on you. As you hang up the phone, you can't help but feel a sense of confusion and disappointment wash over you. You had been hoping that it was Joel on the other end of the line and that he was calling to follow up on his earlier proposition. But instead, it seems like you were caught in the middle of a heated exchange between a man and a woman, and you can't help but wonder what it all means.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You know that you can't let yourself get too caught up in the idea of Joel. You need to focus on yourself and your own needs rather than getting swept up in the allure of a man you barely know. You've got plenty of people who love you, and it's better to prioritize your relationships than get carried away with a man like Joel. You know you wouldn't be able to handle it.

But then suddenly here you are. You take a deep breath and steel yourself as you walk back into the garage, hoping to catch Joel before he leaves for the day. The receptionist gives you a disapproving look as you enter, but you ignore her and make your way towards Joel, who has just finished up with a customer. As you approach, Joel looks up and sees you, a small smile spreading across his face. "Hey there, sweetheart," he says, wiping his hands on a nearby towel. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I, uh, I had some questions about my car," you say, trying to sound casual. "I figured I'd come down and ask you in person."

Joel raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Instead, he nods towards the back of the garage, inviting you to follow him. As you walk, you can't help but notice the way his muscles ripple under his shirt or the way his jeans hug his hips. You feel a heat creeping up your neck, and you hope he doesn't notice.

Once you're in the back, Joel crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you with a serious expression. "Listen, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and intense. "I know what you're doing, and I want you to know that it's not going to work."

You furrow your brow, confused. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

Joel takes a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I mean that I know you're trying to avoid what's going on between us," he says, his voice softening. "And I get it. I know I'm not the easiest person to be around." You open your mouth to protest, but Joel holds up a hand to stop you. "But I also know that there's something between us, something real and intense," he continues. "And I don't want to ignore it anymore."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "What are you saying?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel takes another step closer to you, his body almost touching yours. "I'm saying that I want you, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I want to make you feel good, to show you things you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as you try to process what Joel is saying. On one hand, you're terrified of the intensity of your feelings for him so soon, of the way he makes your heart race and your skin tingle. On the other hand, you can't deny the attraction you feel towards him, the way your body responds to his voice alone.

As you stand there, frozen, Joel reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. "It's okay, darlin," he says, his voice soft and reassuring.

You know that you have a choice to make, a decision to make about what you want and what you're ready for. And as you stand there, looking into Joel's beautiful brown eyes, you know that you're ready. Without saying a word, you lean in and press your lips to Joel's, feeling the heat and passion of his kiss. Joel responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. You can feel the strength and power of his body. As Joel deepens the kiss, he reaches down and gently lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you over to a nearby workbench. He sets you down gently, cupping your face in his hands, "Be right back, sweetheart, don't go anywhere.”

Just as Joel turns to lock up, the receptionist calls out, "Joel, she can't stay here. She's not an employee."

Joel turns to her, his expression stern. "I'll take care of it, Linda," he says. "Just go home."

Linda looks taken aback, but she doesn't argue. She grabs her things and leaves the garage, shooting you a disapproving look as she goes.

Once she's gone and the doors are locked,Joel walks back over to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. He pulls a small joint out of his pocket and holds it up for you to see. "Ever tried this before, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

You shake your head, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "No, I haven't," you admit.

Joel grins, lighting the joint and taking a deep drag. He holds it out to you, his eyes locked on yours. "Here, let me show you," he says.

You lean in, taking a tentative puff on the joint. The smoke is harsh and unfamiliar, but the sensation of Joel's hand on your back, guiding you, is intoxicating. You feel a warm, tingly sensation spreading through your body. He pulls back, his eyes shining with desire as he takes another drag. "You like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, unable to speak. You've never smoked weed before, but with Joel, it feels right. It feels intimate and exciting, like you're sharing a secret that only the two of you know. For a while, the two of you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away, like you're the only two people in the entire world, and it's a feeling you never want to let go of.

But eventually, the joint burns down to nothing, and the two of you are forced to come back to reality. Joel grins, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his lips are soft and gentle, his tongue exploring your mouth as he deepens the kiss. You can feel the warmth of the weed spreading through your body, making you feel relaxed and happy.

As you kiss, Joel's hands roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and the swell of your breasts. You moan softly, your body responding to his touch. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your clit throbbing with desire.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "I want you, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and intense. "I want to make you feel good.” You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. You want him too, more than anything. You want to feel his hands on your body, his lips on your skin. You want to feel him inside you, filling you up and making you his.

Joel's fingers find the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head. He tosses it aside, his eyes raking over your body. You're wearing a lacy bra, the color of pale pink. Joel's fingers trace the lines of your bra, his touch gentle and teasing. You can feel your nipples hardening under the lace, your body begging for more.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," Joel says, his voice low and husky. "I can't wait to taste you." With a quick motion, he removes your bra, throwing it to the floor.

He leans in, his mouth closing over one of your nipples. His tongue flicks at the hard peak, making you gasp with pleasure. Joel's hands roam over your body. He reaches down, his fingers finding the waistband of your shorts. He tugs them down, his fingers tracing the lines of your lacy panties. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy. Joel's fingers find the edge of your panties, tugging them aside. His fingers trace the outer lips of your pussy, his touch gentle and teasing.

Joel's fingers find your entrance, sliding inside you with ease. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. He starts to move his fingers inside you, faster, his touch more urgent. You can feel the orgasm building inside you.

"Fuck, sweetheart, so fuckin' tight," Joel growls.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Joel's fingers continue to work their magic.

And then, suddenly, you're there.

You cry out as you come, your orgasm ripping through you like wildfire. Joel's fingers continue, drawing out your pleasure until you're left weak and trembling in his arms. “S'okay baby, s'okay, you did so so good for me sweetheart.”

As your orgasm subsides, Joel pulls his fingers out of you, his eyes dark with desire. He licks his fingers clean, his tongue tracing the lines of your juices. You watch him, your mouth parted like you just watched him lick the tastiest ice cream cone.

Joel reaches down, his fingers finding the button of his jeans. He undoes it, tugging his jeans down over his hips. He's not wearing any underwear, and his cock springs free, hard and ready.

You can't help but stare, your eyes wide with desire. Joel's cock is long and thick, the head dark and swollen. You can see a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip, and you can't wait to taste it. Joel steps closer to you, his cock brushing against your thigh. You can feel the heat of it, the hardness. You reach out, your fingers wrapping around the shaft. Joel groans, his head falling back as you start to stroke him. You can feel his body trembling, his cock twitching in your hand. You stroke him faster, your hand moving up and down the shaft. Joel's hands roam over your body. He reaches down, tugging your panties off in one swift motion.

You're completely exposed now, your pussy on full display. Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his cock throbbing in your hand.

"Fuck, you look so hot," Joel growls.

You've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But with Joel, it feels right. It feels exciting and thrilling, he reaches down, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub, his touch gentle and teasing.

"Do you like that, sweetheart?" Joel asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to speak. "You're so fucking hot,," Joel growls. "I can't wait to taste you."

He drops to his knees in front of you, his eyes locked on yours. He reaches up, his fingers tracing your inner thighs. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy. Joel's tongue finds your clit, gentle and teasing. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. Joel's tongue moves lower, tracing the outer lips of your pussy. His tongue finds your entrance, pushing inside you. You can feel him exploring his tongue, tracing your walls. Joel's fingers find your clit again, rubbing in time with his tongue.

"Fuck, Joel, m’gonna come," you cry out grabbing onto his hair.

Joel doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing, his eyes don't leave yours, it makes him almost painfully hard watching you come. You cry out as you come. Joel's tongue continues to lick at your pussy, drawing out your pleasure.

"You taste so fucking good, sweetheart," Joel growls, standing up.

He steps closer to you, his cock brushing against your entrance. Joel's hands find your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. "You ready for me sweetheart?

"Yes, please, Joel." He pushes inside you, his cock filling you up completely. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. Joel starts to move, his hips thrusting against you. His cock hits that sweet spot inside of you with every stroke. Joel reaches down, his fingers finding your. You can feel your body trembling, your pleasure building higher and higher.

"Fuck, Joel, I'm gonna come again," you cry out, your voice hoarse with pleasure.

Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his fingers moving faster. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tensing with pleasure until you come again. Joel's thrusts become erratic, his body tensing as he reaches his own release. He groans, his cock twitching inside of you as he fills you with his seed.

The two of you lie there, panting and sated, your bodies still tangled together. Joel's forehead is pressed against yours, his eyes shining with desire and affection. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the beating of his heart against your chest.

"You're so fucking perfect, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You smile, feeling a sense of contentment. But even as those thoughts run through your mind, you also know that you can't let yourself get carried away. You barely know Joel, and there are things about him that you don't know. Important things.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you know you have to do. "Joel, I... I need to go," you say, your voice soft but firm.

Joel's expression changes, a hint of sadness and disappointment flashing in his eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice soft.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Suddenly, the walls feel like they're closing in on you, and you can't catch your breath. "I-I can't breathe," you manage to say, your voice shaking.

Joel's face falls, and he pulls you into a tight embrace. "It's okay, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "Just breathe with me, in and out. You're safe, I've got you."

You focus on Joel's voice, trying to match your breathing to his. Slowly, the panic begins to recede, and you can feel your heart rate returning to normal. "I'm so sorry," you say, your voice still shaking. "I don't know what came over me."

Joel shushes you, his hand tracing circles on your back. "It's okay," he says. "You don't have to apologize. You've been through a lot today. It's okay to feel overwhelmed."

You nod, feeling a sense of shame wash over you. You wanted to be strong, to be brave, but instead, you fell apart.

Joel must sense your embarrassment because he pulls back and looks at you with a serious expression. "Hey, listen to me," he says, his voice firm. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're allowed to feel however you feel, and I'm here, no matter what. Okay?"

You nod, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Joel. He's been so kind and understanding, even for someone who knows nothing about you and you can't help but feel drawn to him.

"Come on, sweetheart," Joel says, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here and into some fresh air. How about we go to my place and spend the night? I promise, no funny business."

You know it sounds crazy but a sense of relief washes over you as you agree. You don't want to be alone right now, and the thought of spending the night with Joel is weirdly comforting. As much as you know, you should probably just go home. Joel helps you get dressed, his hands gentle and reassuring. Once you're both dressed, he leads you outside and into his truck. He drives you to his house, his hand resting on yours the entire time. When you arrive, Joel leads you inside and shows you to his bedroom. He pulls back the covers and helps you climb into bed, tucking you in like a child. "Just rest, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft. "I'll be right back."

You nod, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over you. Joel returns a few minutes later with a glass of water. He helps you sit up and take a sip of water, then lays down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It's soothing, and you can feel yourself drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you, Joel," you murmur, your voice sleepy.

Joel kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. "Anytime, sweetheart," he says. "I'm always here for you."

As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Joel. He's been so kind and understanding. For the first time in a long time, you feel safe, and you know that everything is going to be okay.

As you sleep, Joel watches over you, his eyes full of affection and concern. He's fallen for you, hard.

As the night wears on, Joel holds you close, his arms wrapped around you. He knows that you're not ready for anything serious, and he's okay with that. For now, he's just happy to be with you, to be there for you, to comfort you, and to make you happy.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #dom!joel miller #mechanic!joe miller #joel miller fluff

1K notes · View notes

mayhemories · 1 year

Note

Pregnancy baby trope baby daddy Neteyam x reader please

TELLING NETEYAM YOURE PREGNANT 😩😩😩😩😩😩

Tsahik Always Knows

Oh my god!! Daddy Neyetam would be so sweet! Also, I'm sorry for the lack of posts, I've been studying overseas and this course is an intensive fieldwork unit so I have had like no time to think. Additionally, some of my tags are working and some are not - I'm so sorry if I miss out on tagging you!

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: none. Vomit? Fluff?

Words: 1.8k

Author’s Notes:

Neteyam is 24, reader is 23, established relationship. AU where they never left the forest and Jake is still Olo’eyktan, Neteyam will take that mantle eventually,, happy-happy can’t read or write any more angst for real.

Please note that the reader utilises she/her pronouns. If you’d prefer male or gender-neutral pronouns in fic I’m more than happy to repost a male or gn version of the story, otherwise include any pronoun preferences in the request box!

Tag List: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila

Read Below Cut:

You stared at the remnants of last night’s dinner on the floor. You had vomited, again. This had been happening in the mornings, on and off for the last few weeks. You did not feel sick, so why were you sick?

Normally the vomit happened at home. Normally Neteyam had already left to tend to his duties. Normally you could clean it up and pretend like it never happened.

The heat of your embarrassment swarmed over your neck and shoulders, sweeping up into your cheeks and ears. You knelt, frozen in place over the bile you had just produced.

On Mo’at’s tent floor.

She was practically, and legally, your grandmother, and had been since you were nineteen-years-old. But you never thought of her like that. She was your Tsahik, your teacher, your elder, your spiritual guide, healer of the Omaticaya.

And you had vomited on her floor.

Mo’at cleared her throat, sitting across from you, your shameful vomit between you. Tears welled in your eyes. This was the worst day of your life.

“Well, luckily it was just you and me here, hm,” Mo’at said with an unusual lightness, a sweetness that was enough to spin you out of your own thoughts.

“My Tsahik, I am so sorry I do not know-”

“Don’t be stupid, how can you not know?” The typical biting Mo’at that you were familiar with came back, quickly. The woman leaned forward with a cloth, mopping up your watery bile like a dealdly secret to be kept between the Tsahik and her assistant.

Now, you really did not know what she meant. You sat up taller, finding a cloth to wipe your mouth clean, something tangible to hold onto.

“My Tsahik, I promise you, I do not know what you think I know.” You whispered into the cloth at your mouth. Mo’at discarded her cloth that blotted your vomit into a wooden bowl. Some poor trainee will deal with it later. She squinted at you, taking you in. Harshly, she grabbed at your wrists, inspecting your palms, and your shaking, delicate fingers.

She huffed as she held your wrist tightly in her left, her right hand poking at your cheek, breasts and thighs. “Hey!” you had enough of her prodding, as you pulled your wrist from her vice-like grip.

“Lay down. Now.” The Tsahik made moves to push you back onto the woven mats on the floor. You were scared and confused and honestly, getting rather emotional. You were still reeling over the embarrassment the vomit caused you. More and more these days you found yourself crying over nothing, or getting easily embarsassed.

You laid still, scared of Mo’at, and, scared of vomiting again. Flat on your back, you stared at the keen weavings of Mo’at’s medical tent. You hissed, looking down, Mo’at has placed a cold hollowed stone on your lower stomach, her ear pressed against it, she furrowed her brow bone.

The elder woman jerked up once she was satisfied, discarding her stone instrument, she settled back into her seated position on the floor, you mirroring her.

“Tsahik-”

“You are with child, quite obviously.” Mo’at had cut you off, while simultaneously giving you news that ripped all the air from your lungs.

Your mind was spinning. You were happy, you were sad, you were excited, you were embarrassed. How could you not see the signs within yourself? Obviously you and Neteyam mated often-

Oh, Eywa.

Neteyam.

You were going to have to tell him.

It was not like you both hadn’t spoken on the topic before, you knew you both wanted kids, a family. Additionally, children were expected, a future Olo'eyktan must be secured.

But the two of you had not planned for it to happen so soon. You had been so careful, tonics and teas. God, Neteyam pulled out most of the time.

Subconsciously one hand laid across your abdomen, the other covering your mouth. You felt your eyes struggling to focus on Mo’at, on anything really. You felt like a shell. A shell with a small shell inside.

“How far along?” You whispered, normally you would scold yourself for your informality towards Mo’at, but you would give yourself a break just this once.

“A month, maybe two. Nothing more, nothing less. You are not physically showing yet but you cannot be far away.” The rare gentleness from Mo’at rose its head once again. You were grateful for it. “Now, my lovely girl, go. Go collect yourself and tell my grandbaby that you’re having my great-grandbaby.” Mo’at said softly, helping you to your feet.

You couldn’t remember the short walk from Mo’at’s tent to the home you shared with Neteyam. You felt as if you were on auto-pilot, blacking out and teleporting from place to place. You quickly sat on the side of your shared bed. Furs and gossamer blankets providing comfort to your shaking legs. Laying back, you stared at the gossamer canopy Neteyam had only recently erected above your bed, dangling your legs off the side.

You rested your hands on your stomach, trying to etch into your memory what it felt like now, knowing that it will eventually swell with the growth of your baby.

Neteyam’s baby.

Realistically, you knew that Neteyam won’t be angry. Shocked? Maybe. But angry? Neteyam had never, ever been angry with you before. Emotionally? It was a different story, you imagined Neteyam being frustrated and screaming at you. You imagined him being disappointed. You imagined him packing his things and leaving. The passing thoughts alone were enough to put you on edge.

Sighing aloud, you had a look at the water clock resting on the other side of the room, you still had a few hours before Neteyam was to return. You still had a few hours to pull yourself together and work out how you were going to spit it out.

Neteyam ran his hands over his face, pulling up his ionar onto his forehead. His whole body burned from that flight. He had missed you today, not usually staying out on patrol this late, but the young recruits needed training, and Neteyam was always eager to please. But, he was a domestic man at heart, he loved being at home with you, loved pulling you to his chest, loved making whatever new thing you asked for.

He loved nesting, he realised. Loved doing it with you.

Striding from the Ikran keeper, Neteyam wanted nothing more than to see you.

The warm lights of your home welcomed him, though when he peered through the gap in the curtain flap, all he saw was your anxious figure, pacing back and forth, muttering to yourself. The air was wrong, Neteyam had never really seen you like this. He watched quietly, confused as to how you had not scent him already, something was wrong with you and he would be damned if he did not find out what.

“Oh Eywa, what am I supposed to say?” You prayed silently, wringing your wrists. You thought the pacing would bring you clarity, as it often provided your father-in-law. Yet you felt empty. And so unbearably full at the same time. In the few hours you had to wait for your mate you had come to love the little life growing in your womb.

You were so excited. You could hardly contain yourself. Neteyam would be the most perfect father. But as the night grew closer your brain started to pick itself apart.

It was all too much. You fell to your knees in the middle of your home, letting the tears flow freely now.

Neteyam did not let that stand for long. He quickly rushed in, picking you up and placing you in his lap. His strong arms snaking around your sobbing form. Your head quickly found is chest. He felt your hot tears streaming down your beautiful face and onto his skin. Neteyam hushed you, like he watched his mother do with his siblings, gently rocking you back and forth. It was so silent, save from your sobbing hiccups. Neteyam did not dare speak until you had stopped.

“My love, what has happened?” He asked gently, pulling away to cup your delicate face in his large, calloused hands. His eyes found yours, and he could see something was creating great turmoil in the labyrinth of your complicated, intelligent mind.

You sighed in response, shaking your head. Trying to find any courage at all. Knowing you have news that will change the course of someone’s life was not something you dealt with well. Maybe you were not cut out to be the clan’s spiritual leader as Tsahik. But that was a different problem for a different day.

Neteyam placed a chaste kiss to your lips, then your cheeks, under your eyes, the tip of your nose, your forehead. You were loved, he said through the gesture. You are safe here.

“Neteyam,” You started, softly. You were always softspoken. Something of which drove Neteyam crazy in love with you. So gentile, so docile, so calm. “I have something to tell you.” Neteyam’s stomach started to flip at your words, anxiety settling in, but like any good soldier, he willed his face into a blank expression. Giving nothing away.

And, in turn, giving you nothing.

“Continue my little love.” He said, putting your baby hairs behind your ears, smoothing your loose hair down as you spoke.

“Neteyam,” You cleared your throat, forcing that invisible, metaphysical bubble away. “I am with child.” The words hung in the air between you, and all you could do was wait for your mate to respond.

Neteyam felt like he was dreaming. Of all the things he prepared for you to say, you being pregnant was not one of them.

His tail betrayed him before his mouth did. Rapidly going side to side, the smile that erupted on Neteyam’s face threatened to split his jaw apart.

You were carrying a baby. His baby. Your baby, together, with him.

You melted into Neteyam’s searing kiss as he held you flush to his body. Pulling apart, Neteyam’s hands rested on your stomach, bright eyed and smily. He kissed your stomach over and over and over again. Peppering the whole area with his hot lips. You giggled at him. He was perfect.

“Oh (y/n), I am so happy.” Neteyam kissed you again, your giggles erupting between kisses as he could not decide on what he wanted to look at, your face or your stomach. “How long have you known, sweetheart?” He rested his forehead on yours, his hands resting on your still flat stomach.

“I found out earlier today.” You couldn’t help but smile. “Your grandmother knew.”

Neteyam laughed, his shoulders shaking, beads of his braids clinking together.

“She knows everything.”

That night as the two of you laid in bed, Neteyam spooning you, you rose out of your slumber briefly. Neteyam’s tail had wrapped itself around your thigh, your own tail sat under your abdomen of its own accord. Neteyam’s fingers splayed over your stomach. He was so protective already. So in love with you and your unborn baby.

You smiled. Shutting your eyes you thanked Eywa for gifting you with something so precious.

7K notes · View notes

metal-mouse · 1 year

Text

Because You're Mine

pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC (m/f pairing)

themes: smut. troping tropeily. ye olde patch him up and then bang him.

warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. p in v. unprotected sex. fingering. horrendous pull out game. possessive!Ominis. someone threatens to dose you with a love potion. blood. mentions of violence. everyone is aged up.

summary: 3.9k word count. You are most surprised to see Ominis Gaunt return to you with a broken nose and a black eye from a fight. He's being awfully cryptic about who he got into a fight with, until you've finished healing him and he confesses why he's so upset.

note: Had a dream about this recently and decided to share it as a treat and also sometimes the best way to break through writer's block is to lean on the tropiest of tropes. Come get y'all juice. left MC house as ambiguous - I'm very Slytherin coded my b. i take liberties on what kind of undergarments they wear. Not an ounce of editing to be found.

@anto-pops @localravenclaw look guys i finished it

You didn’t look up from your book as the door to the Room of Requirement groaned open. There were only two people who knew of this room besides you, and as Professor Weasley hadn’t stepped foot in it since your fifth year, that left only one person.

“Hello Ominis.” You called out your greeting, nearing the end of the page. He didn’t respond, which made you look up. You dropped the book and sat up straight at the sight of him. His cheeks were pink, there was a gash on the bridge of his nose which was steadily dripping blood, and one of his eyes was beginning to swell shut. Worry filled you, as your mind went to all of the worst case scenarios for what could have caused this. You stood up and hurried towards him, urging him to sit down on the sofa you had just been occupying.

“Hello.” He said finally, in a dejected voice.

“Are you alright?” You asked, a table appearing next to you with a bowl of water and some cloths. You very gently took his jaw in your hands as you tilted his head up to inspect his wounds. The cut on his nose was deep, and now that you were up close you could see his nose was slightly crooked. His pain was very evident, and his frown likely wasn’t making it any better.

“I’m wonderful, thank you for asking.” Ominis hissed as you turned his head to get a better look at his eye. You were fairly certain his cheekbone wasn’t broken, which was more than you could say for his poor nose.

“What happened?” You asked, ignoring his irritated sarcasm. If anything, it only suggested to you that he was fine beyond the wounds on his face and possibly a bruised ego. You weren’t sure if you had the skill to repair his nose. In the last year, you’d taken to spending more time in the hospital wing with Nurse Blainey. You’d assisted her during a detention once, and she had been more than happy to show you some of the healing arts. You knew the spell… perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try?

“I got into a fight.” He said, skirting around your question.

“Well, obviously. I would love some detail, if you’re willing to provide. When Sebastian comes around all beat up like this it makes sense, but you mostly keep your hands to yourself,” You said while taking one of the cloths and gently pressing it to his nose, “hold that. I’m out of wiggenweld, I’m going to brew some.” His hand replaced yours as he held the cloth to staunch the blood dripping from his nose. You looked down at his uniform. His shirt and tie were covered in blood.

“Is detail truly important? I was in a fight, and now I’m here.” Ominis’ voice was muffled from the cloth. You poured some water into the cauldron atop your potions station. He was usually very open with you, content to tell you all of his deepest thoughts. Somewhere deep in your mind you wondered if this fight had somehow been caused by you. He had gone to Hogsmeade today with Sebastian, and Rookwood’s Ashwinders still tried to prey on you. You prepared your Horklump juice and Dittany leaves, waiting for the water in the cauldron to begin bubbling. It was strange that he would keep something like that from you, even if he didn’t want you to worry.

“It’s clearly bothering you a lot, Ominis.” You said softly. He made an angry noise and didn’t respond. Now that the cauldron was bubbling, you added the ingredients and stirred the correct amount of times. You turned away to let it brew until it was ready, and returned to Ominis’ side. You wordlessly took the cloth from him and pulled it aside. It was drenched in blood, but it had mostly stopped the bleeding coming from both his nostrils and the gash on the bridge of his nose.

“Ouch!” He hissed as you reached up and gently poked at his nose.

“Stay still. It’s broken. Does anything else hurt?” You mumbled, climbing into his lap and holding his face steady with one hand. You fumbled for your wand, and he let out a little panicked breath and shook his head a little.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his good eye widening slightly.

“The Wiggenweld can’t straighten a broken nose. Don’t move. Episkey!” You said. He yelped as his nose cracked back into its normal position and the gash healed. You nodded in approval, pleased that the spell had worked. You’d never cast it beyond Nurse Blainey’s watchful eye.

“There. I bet you can breathe a little better now.” You said, removing yourself from his lap to check on your potion. Ominis took a long, very audible breath. You watched him as he reached up and felt his nose. He looked absolutely miserable. Your lips pressed together in a frown, it was worrying how little information he was willing to divulge.

“Have you seen Sebastian?” He asked.

“No, I thought he was with you.” You said, scooping some of your completed wiggenweld potion into a glass. Anxiety briefly pulsed in your chest, worrying that whoever had attacked Ominis had also gotten Sebastian. No. He wouldn’t have come to you unless he knew Sebastian was safe.

“He never met me. Must be with Violet.” He snorted, sounding absolutely furious with his friend. You tilted your head, making a small sound of agreement. Violet McDowell was Sebastian’s particular flavour this week after you’d forbidden him from asking Poppy Sweeting on a date. You had promised him swift and painful retribution if he had even looked at Poppy without the intent of marrying her and loving her forever.

“Here. Drink this.” You said, handing Ominis the glass full of wiggenweld. You crouched in front of him, a hand on his knee balancing him as he drank. The bruising around his eye faded, and he sighed with relief as he set down the now empty glass. You stayed crouched before him, your fingers drumming on his knee as a sign that you would love an explanation.

“You really can’t just let it go?” He asked.

“I’m sorry, I’m worried. It’s frightening when you get hurt.” You squeezed his knee a little. He let out a little sight, his frown softening.

“No, please don’t apologize. It should be me apologizing, I can see how someone arriving covered in blood would be worrying - especially for you.” He put his hand over yours. You stood then, setting your wand to the side as you settled down beside him.

“If you really don’t want to tell me what happened, please just tell me if this is going to be a recurring problem.” You said in compromise, taking his hand again. He looked deep in thought, clearly battling with his inner thoughts.

“I heard two sixth-years plotting about how they were going to slip you a love potion.” Ominis said finally. You blinked in surprise. Out of everything that could have come out of his mouth, that had been the one you least expected.

“A love potion?” You echoed. He nodded, and you admired the rage on his face. He’d fought two boys purely because they wanted to give you a love potion. You fought the smile spreading on your lips. For someone who was awfully composed, he was certainly prone to his jealous moments.

“Yes. A love potion. They’re lucky I haven’t gone directly to the Headmaster. I should have them both expelled.” He sneered. Your face went hot at the arrogance in his voice. You leaned in, loosening his bloody tie and tossing it to the side.

“You’re covered in blood.” You informed him. He wasn’t really listening to you at all, instead he was caught up in his own rage. You took that opportunity to unbutton his shirt so you could remove it and try to clean the blood off.

“Foolish, impudent worms. Gryffindors always think they’re entitled to that which is not theirs.” He pulled his arms out of the sleeves when you tugged on his shirt. He may not have been paying attention to you, but you were hanging onto his every word. That which is not theirs? That statement certainly held some heavy implications. You were grateful he’d stepped in of course, love potions were risky and you did prefer to make your own decisions.

Ominis continued his monologue, describing precisely what he had done to the Gryffindor boys for their crime. You took a clean cloth and dampened it to wipe the blood off his neck and chest. He’d been exceptionally cruel to the boys, and every word he spoke had your heart beating faster. It was becoming difficult to pay attention to your cleaning. He’d taken their threat personally, and had essentially destroyed them for it. Broken their wands, hanging them upside down from a tree, blackened eyes, he had truly done a number on them. Out of your little trio he was widely regarded as the most peaceful, with Sebastian being the most violence-prone and you falling somewhere between the two. He was incredibly protective of you, something you’d discovered even when your friendship had only just begun to bloom.

His hand closed around your wrist suddenly, and you realized you had stopped moving. You looked at his face, his hair was a mess, his cheeks were still pink, and he held an expression you’d never seen before. You were suddenly desperate to break the silence. His other hand lifted to your cheek, his fingers delicately tracing along your jawline.

“They can’t have you.” He whispered, his fingers moved down your neck slowly. Your breath hitched at this display of possessive intimacy that you had never seen before. You and Ominis had your fair share of intimate moments, but this? Never anything like this. This was an entirely new side to him. It was something you’d expect of Sebastian, the man who moped over girls he’d barely been involved with for longer than a week, but never Ominis. You didn’t know what to say. When you had first crossed that border between friendship and something more, it had been relatively laid back. You went for walks together, bought each other sweets and butterbeers from Hogsmeade, and spent late nights in each other’s arms in the Room of Requirement or the Undercroft. This change was almost as unexpected as its impact on you. You knew deep down that this should not be making you so aroused.

“Where has thi–'' You were cut off when Ominis leaned in and kissed you. You dropped the cloth from your hand as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap. You draped one arm behind his neck, and rested the palm of your other on his cheek with your fingers in his hair as you matched his passion. It wasn’t rough, so much as it was claiming. His cold hands pressed against the skin of your back making you gasp and arch against him. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue moving so sinfully your core was steadily aching now. You knew precisely what that tongue was capable of, and you’d grown to anticipate it. Dream about it even.

His rapidly warming fingers stroked your sides as he brought them under your front and withdrew them from your shirt entirely. As Ominis began to unbutton your shirt, you began to lightly rock your hips to create some friction between you and the bulge in his trousers. He let out a low groan and proceeded to rip your shirt open. Your eyes snapped open as you sat back a little bit in surprise, but he pulled you back against him with a single tug of your shirt. His hands went to your chest, and he let out a dark laugh against your mouth when he felt only skin. You weren’t wearing anything under your shirt. His mouth lowered and he left hot, wet kisses and little nips down your jaw and onto your neck. You couldn’t contain the small moans and gasps that tumbled from your lips.

Ominis’ tongue ran along your collar, and his hands roamed to your backside where he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up more. The hand you had in his hair shot to the back of the sofa to brace yourself. You cried out as he bit down on the side of your breast. His tongue delicately swiped out licking the hurt he’d just caused. He held you up with one arm, his other hand running along your backside and between your legs. The fabric of your trousers was disappointingly thick, and you felt far too constrained while wearing them. His hand moved to cup your breast as he swirled his tongue over your sensitive nipple. He stopped suddenly, his hands falling to your waist as he pushed you back slightly.

“Take off your trousers.” He commanded. The bark in his voice sent a wave of heat to your core. You stood up, fumbling with the buttons before finally pushing them down. He reached out and made a sound of displeasure when his hands ran over your underwear. He hooked his thumbs in the waistline and yanked them down. You stepped out of your trousers and undergarments, and Ominis checked to make sure you’d done precisely what he had wanted. He made no move to remove his trousers. You stared at his bulge desperate to see him undressed. It wasn’t fair that you were now bare in front of him, and he was still half-dressed.

“I want to taste you.” You pleaded in an attempt to get him to take his trousers off.

“As reluctant as I am to deny you, don’t you think you’ve taken enough care of me today?” Ominis’ lips twisted into an arrogant smile, as he turned you around and pulled you back. You fell into his lap. One of his arms looped around you pulling you back against his chest. His lips pressed to your neck, leaving kisses and small bites all along the smooth column. He pushed your legs open wide, biting down hard on the flesh of your shoulder. You cried out, your eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable pain. One hand ran along the inside of your thigh, and the other stayed planted on your belly.

“Those fools think they could have this. That they could have what is mine.” His breath was hot on your neck. You whined as his hand stroking your thigh got closer and closer to where you wanted it.

“Please Ominis.” You complained when his fingers brushed next to your wet and aching center but he didn’t touch it. Your lip curled, two could play at this game. You began to rotate your hips slowly, grinding down on the bulge in his pants. Your hands covered his and you moved them to where you wanted them to be. One between your legs on your heat, the other cupping your breast. He huffed out a laugh.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He chided.

“I thought you wanted to prove I’m yours.” Now this spurred him on. Without warning he curled two fingers inside of you. Your back arched as you let out a gasp and Ominis began to pump his long fingers deep inside of you, ensuring the heel of his palm pressed against your clit while he worked. While his fingers curled against your sweet spot, you shamelessly rutted against his palm to elevate you even higher into ecstasy.

“Is that better, darling?” He asked, nibbling on the back of your ear.

“Uh huh.” You moaned, nodding your head. You wished you could kiss him. You wanted to face him and have him buried deep inside of you. You would have turned around if this didn’t feel so fucking good. There was something about him being in complete control and doing what he wanted with you. You weren’t even tied up, yet you felt useless to do anything to pleasure him beyond grinding against his bulge. There was a tantalizing pressure building inside of you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. Ominis seemed to have realized as he pressed further into you and his fingers kept up the exact same pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat.

“Right there?” He asked. You nodded against him, unable to form a coherent thought. You writhed against him, pressing his palm hard against your clit. Your eyes squeezed shut as you fell over the edge and bolts of pleasure made your toes curl. You let out a sinful scream that may have been his name. Ominis didn’t stop, letting you ride out your orgasm on his hand until your knees clamped together and he withdrew. You were a panting mess as he gently guided you to lay on your back. You heard the sound of his belt hitting the ground, and you opened your eyes and watched him pull down his trousers. You moaned at the sight of his cock springing free, delightfully pink and large.

Ominis knelt on the couch between your knees, lowering himself over you. Impatient and greedy, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to press your lips to his. You were hungry for him, your tongue swiping over his bottom lip prompting him to open up for you. You were certain the way he tasted would stay with you for the rest of your life, so damn sweet and addicting. Reaching down, you gently wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it with your entrance. Slowly, Ominis pressed into you with a low moan. You were distracted from your kiss at the feeling of his cock filling you up. He always went slow when he started, knowing it drove you crazy. Once he was sheathed fully inside of you, he stayed completely still aside from the hand that laced in your hair lifting your head again to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

“I’ve always been yours.” You whispered as his forehead rested against yours. His eyes snapped open at this, his fingers curling so he was pulling your hair. He ground into you, and you choked on a moan. Ominis pulled out nearly all the way and slammed back into you with a husky groan. He hooked his free arm behind your knee, pushing your leg up and out of the way as he settled into a slow and steady rhythm.

“Of course you have. I fit s-so perfectly, it’s like you were made for me.” The little stammer in his sentence made your heart flutter. You gasped when Ominis rolled his hips forward deepening his thrusts. Your nails scraped across his shoulders as your mind was overtaken by pleasure and thoughts of him. The moans and small praises that came as a steady stream from his mouth paired with his cock hitting every angle inside of you had you on a high you didn’t think possible.

You arched your back in an attempt to let him deeper inside of you. Despite being connected at your most intimate part, you wanted more. You wanted inside of his heart, inside of his soul. Through your pleasure, you opened your eyes to look upon his face. His eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure, his mouth hung open and his skin completely flushed, his hair an absolute mess. You loved it. Without warning, Ominis picked up the pace slamming into you without restraint. You dug your fingernails into his shoulders now, forcing him down to kiss you. His arms wrapped around your waist arching your back even further and changing the angle which he fucked into you. Between the feeling of his lips on yours, and his cock inside your already sensitive cunt, you were rapidly tumbling towards another orgasm. When Ominis took one hand from under you and reached down to rub circles on your swollen clit, your head fell back.

“Come.” Ominis ordered, and you didn’t even have it in you to scream this time. Ominis muttered a string of curse words as your walls clenched around him and you rose up to clamp your teeth down on his shoulder. It was almost painful how hard he had made you come, and some primal part of you needed him to share in that feeling. He kept his steady pace, not faltering once as he chased his own pleasure with a great moan. The hand that had been rubbing you clamped around your neck and squeezed. You watched him and saw in his face he was close. You met his thrusts, matching his rhythm. His chest heaved and a light sheen of sweat had formed across his body. In that moment you were certain that it wouldn’t matter if someone gave you a love potion, Ominis was all you’d be able to see.

“Yours, Ominis.” You whispered, incapable of telling him truly what you were thinking. His fingers dug into you and his grip on your neck tightened. Almost there. You watched in awe as his head dropped and he let out a guttural groan that slightly resembled your name. His cock twitched and his body trembled as he emptied himself inside of you with shallow thrusts. Ominis’ hand let go of your throat, and he collapsed on top of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you wrapped your arms around him holding him tight to your chest. You pressed kisses to the top of his head and he let out a wordless groan. After a few moments passed, Ominis slowly pulled out leaving you feeling empty.

“We should have conjured a bed.” He mumbled. You let out a little laugh as one appeared next to the sofa. Ominis rolled over, taking you with him so that you were laying on his chest instead of him atop of you. You knew that you should get up and probably clean yourself off, but with his arms around you and your genuine concern about your ability to stand, you were content to just stay.

“Maybe you should get into more fights.” You sighed, reveling in the lovely feelings of your afterglow. He laughed, gently rubbing your back.

“If men don’t learn how to behave, I just might.” He said. You could do without him getting injured, but if this was how he reacted when he was jealous or feeling possessive? You could definitely get behind that.

“I’ll be here when you do.” You sighed, thinking about how you should really restock on your wiggenweld potions.

“And, for the foreseeable future, I will be tasting your food and drink before you.” Ominis said, making you snort.

“What am I, the Queen of England? I don’t need a food taster, Ominis, if anything I’ll just start carrying around an antidote to love potions.” You told him.

“You can be my Queen.” He grinned at you.

“You’re not allowed to speak with Sebastian anymore, he’s rubbing off on you.” You sat up a little bit to get a better angle as you looked down at his face.

“That’s your job, Darling.”

“My point has been proven.” You smiled widely at the sound of his laughter. When you were with Ominis is when you were happiest. You were safe, comfortable, and content. You were in love, and you were his.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt oneshot #ominis x you #ominis x reader #reni writes

3K notes · View notes

skzdarlings · 1 year

Text

06. sharing a bed series ; skz ; felix

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 6/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. bodyguard au. a dose of angst. open ending. past violence and parental abuse mentioned. ongoing perilous situation and forced proximity. not the healthiest dynamic lol. spanking, some rough play, hair-pulling, throat-grabbing, overstimulation, crying during sex, mention of past unprotected sex, a more dominant felix and a kinda bratty reader.

You kick open your bedroom door. As usual, no one is home except for you and Felix so you are free to scream and curse and stomp all you want.

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you shout among a flurry of other colourful words.

Felix enters behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as ever.

Felix’s perpetual calmness is half the reason your father hired him. The other reason is that Felix was the best behaved boy in the world who grew into the most pristine, perfect man. Your father did not claw his way to the top of the industrial world by settling for anything less than the best. Lee Felix is the best. Your father trusts him with everything and anything, including wrangling his rambunctious daughter. Felix’s job is to guard and protect you – from others and from yourself. He is annoyingly good at it.

Felix is the prettiest, loveliest, sweetest man on the outside, particularly selected for his unassuming attributes. An obvious bodyguard figure draws unwanted attention. Felix, however, attended high school and college with you, posing as a fellow student and never looking out of place, always appearing gentle and ordinary and kind. Behind that, he is a lethally competent bodyguard. Your skinny, freckled, fair-haired watchdog can subdue any adversary.

Including the one tonight.

“I was just doing my job,” Felix says. He closes your bedroom door and locks it out of habit even though you are home alone. He is still completely uncaring to your crisis, as fucking usual, wandering around like he is a sensitive little lamb, smiling and content.

You throw yourself down on your bed with a dramatic heave.

“You broke his arm!” you cry.

Felix is standing at your desk, removing his work equipment. He is dressed like a civilian for the most part, denim pants with a windbreaker and a button-down over a t-shirt. He lays the jacket over the back of the chair and sighs, looking at his reflection in your vanity mirror. He runs a hand through his hair, still casual, feathering the dyed locks so they flutter back into place.

“I was just doing my job,” he repeats. He undoes the button-down and tosses it aside, then kicks his shoes under the desk.

Felix is all sharp lines and harsh angles, slender but athletic. His cheekbones are high, his angular face softened by his dark eyes and endearing freckles. That sweetness is juxtaposed by the gun harness strapped across his back.

You swallow. The harness hits the floor, then he grabs the back of the t-shirt and yanks it swiftly over his head. It joins the pile of discarded articles.

He sits on the desk chair with a distracted sigh, dutifully disassembling the gun for an inspection or cleaning or whatever nonsense Felix has decided is more important than your conversation.

“His arm,” you repeat. “You broke his arm. He was a completely innocent guy! I’m allowed to flirt with guys! Just because you’re my daddy’s good dog and he doesn’t let you get your dick wet, doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.”

Felix looks at you, his mouth a thin line with his unamused smile.

“Cute,” he says. He drops the smile and his distinctive deep voice drops another decibel when he says, “You can flirt. Just not with him.”

“His arm—”

Felix closes the gun and puts it on the desk.

“I think he was lucky I didn’t rip it off for grabbing you like that, don’t you think?” Felix says. He asks it so nicely too, tipping his head imploringly, like he really wants an answer. Not that he waits. Just as soon as the smile comes, it goes, replaced with a eye roll as he gets to his feet.

“Get ready for bed,” Felix says. “And, mmm, that’s not a request by the way. I’m phoning your dad to tell him we’re home safe.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just leaves the room while reaching into his back pocket for his phone. He closes the door behind himself, leaving you to fume by your lonesome.

Out of rebellious frustration, you do not budge an inch. You cross your arms and sit back on your bed, still dressed in your evening outfit. You can distantly hear Felix speaking in a formal voice and it makes you twitch with anticipation.

Felix being so professional is simultaneously his most annoying and most attractive quality. Annoying, because he really never falters on the clock. Attractive, because it wouldn’t be any fun pushing him to the boundaries of his rules if he wasn’t such a stickler in the first place.

When Felix returns, still wearing nothing more than his jeans, his expression immediately turns exasperated. He closes the door and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at you.

You stare straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed. You and Felix have shared a bed since the day he was hired, back when you were teenagers, as you were in the habit of sneaking out at night. You were not intimidated by the chubby-cheeked teenage boy, gleefully slipping past him while he slumbered – until suddenly you were being yanked back through the window. You learned the hard way that despite his appearance and disposition, he was an especially skilled martial artist.

As your father continues to accrue enemies in every market, you cannot live life on your own, not without endangering it. You still need Felix. You still share a bed. Everything you do, you do with Felix, whether you like it or not. Felix expresses little feeling on that front, a perpetual font of seeming sunshine when he isn’t breaking someone’s arm.

You know you are being mightily petulant by keeping him up, but you don’t care. If you can’t have what you want then neither can he. You can stay up all night, just staring and glaring at each other contemptuously. You are happy to let all that mutual disdain simmer through its achingly slow burn.

“Really?” Felix says. “Do we have to do this tonight?”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say.

“Right.” He laughs dryly but sits gingerly on his side of the bed. He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly with pleasure. His hair is getting longer again, sweeping his neck, and you watch as he delicately tucks some behind his ear. He leans on one arm, looking at you. “I’ll ask you nicely then, sweetheart.”

Ooh, that’s a low blow and he knows it. The word sweetheart always sounds so rich in his mouth, his accent softening the heart of it. Hopefully he misses the way you melt, but you doubt it.

His smile only deepens.

“Please, please get ready for bed,” he says. “It’s been a long day, yeah? And we’re both so tired. Come on. Let’s go. Just need some rest I think. Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

You do not move.

You hear him sigh, a melodic sound. He runs his hand through his hair again.

“All right,” he says, soulfully. “All right. Fine.”

You hear the sharper inflection in his tone but you react a moment too late. Your bed is big, big enough you could starfish without even brushing his side of the bed, so it takes you a second to scamper to the opposite side.

That second is too long. Felix reaches out and grabs you by the calf, dragging you across the bed.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, kicking at him to no avail. “I’ll phone my dad!”

He is completely undeterred by your dramatics, only sighing when he hauls you over his lap.

“Go ahead,” he says. “I’m allowed to use, uhhh, what’d he say… discretion… mm… to discipline you if I think I need to.” He puts his phone within your reach. It is not a genuine gesture of goodwill so much as it is taunting you because you both know your father would take his side. “Well?” he asks. “Do you want to phone him?”

“I hate you,” you say.

“I know,” he replies. “Sorry.”

He sounds like he means it, though it’s hard to believe him when he flicks up your dress and swings his open palm across your ass. His hand comes down four more times before he neatly fixes your skirt again.

“Bed time?” he asks brightly, like everything has been solved with no problem.

You crawl off his lap while grumbling irritably, doing your best to ignore the smarting on your behind when you turn over to glare at him. He is just smiling at you, that thin-lipped way he smiles with dry humour.

“I hate you,” you say again.

He waves his hand, gesturing the vaguest, blandest sentiment of meh with its wiggle.

“I’m just doing my job,” he says for the millionth time.

“Really?” you reply with as much sarcasm as he usually gives. He hears it, tilting his head like a curious cat, as if he has no idea why you could possibly be upset with him – though the stupid little upturn to his lips tells you that he knows exactly why.

You hate him. You really, really do hate him. You have never hated anyone the way you hate him and you want to shout it from the roof. But you can’t do that. You can only say it to his face in private, in whatever way you can.

You reach without warning, cupping the bulge between his legs and finding a lot more than a denim crinkle. His gaze darkens, his hand covering yours warningly, though he doesn’t lift it away.

You adopt a saccharine sweet tone when you speak.

“Do you tell my daddy that when you discipline me you get hard?” you ask, batting your eyelashes.

He moves your hand to his thigh instead, shaking his head.

“Stop being silly,” he says. “Go get ready for bed.”

Your eyes follow him as he stands. He doesn’t get far when you grab his belt loop and tug him back. Felix has fast reflexes and is incredibly coordinated, so you find it hard to believe you sincerely bested him, but he stumbles as if you did. He stands where you want him, where he’s close enough for you to kneel on the bed and press your face right against his bulge.

He says your name in a warning voice, his already deep voice dropping more.

“I wonder…” you say, nuzzling your nose against the ridge in the denim, where you can feel him hard and getting harder still. “When my daddy asks you what we do all day,” you say, flicking your eyes up to his, “do you tell him your dick spends more time in my mouth than in your pants?”

His nostrils flare with his next breath.

You smile, victorious.

“He still thinks you’re his perfect soldier, doesn’t he?” you ask. “You can do no wrong. Little does he know…”

“I do my job,” Felix says. “And I do a good job. Okay? That’s all that matters.”

You start to open your mouth, one hand climbing towards his fly. You stop with a gasp when he fists a chunk of your hair, tugging your head away from him. It sends a hot shock rippling through you, flooding you with the recollection of all the times he grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, the times he cupped your head and put himself in your mouth despite knowing better, the number of times he fucked between your pretty lips and forgot to be proper, cursing so much it was practically poetry.

This time he guides you away and you whimper miserably. He does not loosen his grip, his fingers threading closer to your scalp so it both hurts less and holds stronger. He knows better than to just let go. He knows you perfectly. You glare at him.

“Look at me,” he says, because your gaze dropped to his bulge again. “I said look at me.” He tugs your hair so you obey, giving him your most annoyed expression. “You’re listening, yeah?” he says. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’re going to go to your closet. Get ready for bed. Sleep. You’re going to do that,” his voice turns frighteningly pleasant, “or I’m going to carry you over there and get you ready myself.”

“Like when we were leaving the club tonight?” you ask just as sweetly. “And you put me over your shoulder then, oops, something happened when we were in the limo, didn’t it?”

He lets go of you, exhaling tiredly in a high-pitched breath.

“Where did all your pretty rings go, Felix?” you ask, reaching for his bare hand, usually adorned with rings. “Did they fall on the floor in the limo when you decided you had to shove your hand up my skirt?”

Leaving the club, you were both wired. Felix was honestly justified in breaking that guy’s arm. You purposefully chose the creepiest, shadiest guy in the club to lead on, knowing Felix would appear two seconds later to rescue you. He always does. No one else ever pays you any personal attention and your life is too complicated for romance, so you thrive on the feeling of someone caring enough to always find you – even if it’s literally his job.

You also like getting mad at him for overreacting, but you like his overreactions. Him twisting and breaking that creep’s arm honestly turned you on. It also got Felix all worked up, a bit pissed because you were being irresponsible again but nonetheless heated. You thought for sure he’d take you home and go crazy and fuck you in the foyer. Instead he put up the limo divider and one-by-one removed his rings, giving you ample time to refuse before he covered your mouth tightly and slid his other hand up between your thighs.

Of course, despite bringing you to the edge several times, he never let you finish. Because he’s the worst.

And now you’re all worked up and he’s shirtless and being a stupid, pretty, two-faced bitch.

“I—” you start.

He rolls his eyes and says, “I know. I know. You hate me. Now go.”

You get up, stomping all the way to your walk-in closet. You can’t even slam the door because it’s a sliding one, but you make the biggest possible demonstration of closing it anyway.

You get ready for bed. You briefly consider dressing provocatively or even strolling out there naked, but in the end you decide to just dress in your ugly, comfy, over-sized t-shirt and march angrily back into the room.

Felix is gone when you return, probably off to double-check the house security one last time before joining you. You could try climbing out the window and down the terrace, just to be ridiculous, but he’ll catch up sooner than later and be even more annoying about it. So you get into bed and turn off the lights, laying down with a huff, blankets pulled up to your chin.

You get a bit dozy before Felix returns, the creaking door snapping you awake. You look over your shoulder and watch him finally shuck the jeans. He gets into bed in his boxers, removing his earrings once under the covers. He puts on the bedside table, then double-checks his gun is in the drawer, then and then only then does he lay down.

The big bed leaves an ocean of space between you. You roll over to face him. His eyes are closed but there’s no way he is already asleep.

“Felix,” you whisper, even though the big house is empty, “I’m cold.”

“There’s another blanket in the closet,” he says without opening his eyes.

You slide across the bed, close enough to reach out and put a hand on his chest. He opens his eyes and stares straight up.

“I need a cuddle,” you say. “Or I’ll have nightmares.”

“You’re not a child anymore,” he says.

That is maybe one thing you miss about the time before you and Felix started… this. When things were still innocent between you, he would often let you snuggle up with him. Now, he keep his distance. Now, he doesn’t hug or hold you.

So no one does.

“We’re still young,” you say, a dumb argument, but you’re tired and out of ideas.

“I was never as young as you,” he grumbles, more to himself than you. He seems to realize what he said and shakes his head. He pats your hand on his chest then rolls over, leaving his back to you.

You slowly return your hand to yourself, staring at the back of his head with an uncharacteristic prickling of tears.

Felix doesn’t talk about his life before this. You just know that it was somehow worse. Worse than being a watchdog. Worse than giving up years of his life to protect someone else. Worse than the times your father wanted to discipline you but learned that if he hit you directly you would just patch yourself up and move on, but if he hit Felix then you would break down and offer anything to make him stop.

You can see a couple faded scars from those times, faint lines that cross his back, remnants of old belt lashings. You touch one now, tracing your finger lightly from one end to the other. You watch a shiver roll down his spine. He doesn’t turn around.

Giving up, you roll away, back to your distant side of the bed. You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, but it just makes you well up with tears. You sniffle, rubbing your nose messily on the back of your arm.

Fabric rustles. You suck in a breath when Felix slides up behind you, pulling you into the middle of the bed where he holds you snugly in his arms. You immediately roll to face him, throwing a leg over his hip and burying your face in his neck.

“Sweetheart,” he says, nothing else.

“I hate you,” you say, then press a kiss just under his jaw.

“I know.” He cups the back of your head as your kisses move down his neck. “I know.”

You make it to the middle of his chest before he turns you onto your back and gets up over you. He kisses you properly, thumbs wiping your tears as his mouth makes you forget about the reason you cried at all. All that matters is kissing him back, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him close as possible. His sounds of pleasure are so deep and rough and rumbling.

“Fuck me, please, please,” you say, pushing your fingers into his hair.

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You know we can’t do that,” he says.

“We’ve done it before,” you say, purposefully canting your hips to rub against him, reminding him you are still so hot and wet from his finger-fucking, that only stupid underwear keeps you apart. It has the desired effect, his brow furrowing as he holds himself still above you. You peck his lips and string your arms around his neck. “You know I’m on birth control now for that reason,” you say, a little sweetly, smiling up at him. “Remember?”

He drops his face in the crook of your neck and makes an even crazier sound, shaking his head.

“That was very, very irresponsible of us, you know,” he says.

“Mhm,” you say, sliding your hand down his body to his waistband. “It really was. But it felt good, didn’t it? Dangerous. Coming inside me like that.”

Felix is right; that incident was very irresponsible. You had already started your little cat-and-mouse game and ran out of condoms one night. Because the two of you only have sex with each other, when that happened, you usually just fooled around until he pulled out.

That time was… a lot. You were pressed so tightly together and you were being painfully quiet because you weren’t home alone. It was such a stupid time to mess around, but common sense leaves you when Felix is involved.

That feeling is mutual. Felix knew better too. If he got you pregnant… the fallout with your father would be catastrophic for both of you. Still, for that moment he was inside you, with your fingers laced together and pressed by your head, with your legs tight around him and his face in your neck, nothing else seemed to exist. You were two normal people who were allowed to do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted. It was a breathless, momentary fantasy, holding him tight and telling him to come, shuddering at the noise he made as he did just that. You didn’t even panic after the fact. You let the moment linger for as long as it could, still pretending you were normal, still pretending it was fine.

You started birth control soon after, telling your father it was to regulate your period. He waved it off, not wanting to hear more.

Your father has truly never suspected a thing. He doesn’t see the people around him as people, just objects, so it makes sense that he sees nothing in Felix but a soldier. He doesn’t know anything about Felix. Doesn’t know the pattern of his freckles or how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles. Doesn’t know he has a sweet tooth and will dump a thing of sugar in nearly everything. Doesn’t know what he finds funny, doesn’t know what makes him sad, doesn’t know anything at all.

You drag your calf up the back of his leg.

“Felix,” you say.

He gives you no chance to say more. One second you are in limbo, the very next he has shoved down both his boxers and your underwear and is already pressing into you. Only nonsense leaves your lips after that, your eyes closing as he works your body like a familiar and well-loved instrument. He knows it as well as you do. As you do his. It’s easy to work him up, to get him as close as you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, changing position so he’s kneeling. He puts one of your legs up against his chest, levelling you with an amused smile. “You’re trying to get me to finish first,” he says.

“What? Noooo…” Your giggle turns into a gasp. You can be as loud as you want but you bite your fist anyway, hiccupping with a choked back sob of pleasure when he finds an angle that makes you see stars.

“Yes, you are,” he says. “But you won’t win.”

“I will,” you say.

“Uh-uh,” he says. “Sure.”

He makes you come twice before he does. He even starts pushing you towards a third but you are so oversensitive that it makes tears fall. He cups your chin and looks at you, cursing.

“You’re so mean,” you say, smiling through your tears. “Getting off to me crying.”

“I’m—not—I just—”

“Liar,” you tease. “You totally are.”

He just giggles. Then he flips a switch and goes from cute to something else, grabbing your throat and fucking into your oversensitive pussy so good and hard that you cry out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he says. “Got you. Got you. I—”

You kiss him and he comes, sinking into you with dick and tongue and breath, filling you and surrounding you.

You hold him close, arms tight around him, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours. When he tries to lift away, you pull him back, making him laugh softly.

“Stay,” you say, and repay his torture by squeezing him inside you, knowing it will make him twitch and jerk with oversensitivity of his own.

“You never make it easy for me, do you,” he says with no animosity.

You shake your head and smile like you’re proud of that. He laughs then kisses you. The kiss is good and thorough and sweet, completely loving, affectionate. It gets your heart racing despite everything you just did. You rest your hands on his chest and gently push him back.

“I still hate you,” you say, because you have to say it, because the opposite would be too dangerous to ever say. You can’t even let that word enter your thoughts, certainly never let it leave your lips. If you held that word in your mouth for even a second, you would become addicted to it. So you glare at him with all passion you can muster and say, “I hate you so much.” You sniffle when he wipes your tears away. You turn your face. “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone.”

“I know,” he says in a strained voice. He presses his forehead to your temple and exhales. “I know, sweetheart.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #felix x reader #skz x reader

4K notes · View notes

venmondiese · 1 month

Text

Stress Relieving Purposes

⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆✦•······················•✦•······················•✦⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆

For @targaryen-dynasty sleepover challenge, again thank you so much!!

Trope is friends with benefits and the AU is College AU. The prompts are 23: “this is a one time thing” and 129: “i can’t hold back anymore”

Summary: Exam week is probably one of the worst things humankind has to experience in college, so you have a brilliant idea for you and your bestfriend; get laid. For that, a study group might help you get closer to those you wanna get with. but fate is always a funny thing

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, masturbation (m), (kind of?) sex video, car sex, praising kink, degradation kink, dom/sub undertones, oral sex (m receiving), ✧Word Count: 10.5k ✧taglist: @qyburnsghost ✧˖°⊹♡ @cupidelocke ⋆⁺₊⋆ ✧Note: I am so happy and excited, because i loved the trope, au and prompt given to me. I spent days thinking how to make it perfect (i wrote like 4 versions of this, lol) and i am proud of the results. Yes, I went insane and wrote exactly 10529 words, but hey, who is counting?

Aemond Targaryen was always an unconventional man. Even so, an unconventional friend. Maybe you spoke too much, always an extrovert, and he was more reserved. You were always admired by many, and he was always repealing the simps.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Aegon’s party?” You ask almost offended by him, as she comes to sit by his side. He rolls his eye as he turns to look at you.

“I thought you were in Epistemology by now”

“I was” you say to him “But do I care? no. I care more for why you didn’t tell me, Cregan Stark was there” You say to him and patting his shoulder as if wanting him to realise the seriousness of the situation. “Cregan Stark!” You repeat in a low tone.

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you...” he says trying to refocus on the paper in front of him, both hands in his temple as he tries to ignore you, yet you appear in his good eye peripheral view.

“Come on, why didn’t you invite me? I thought we were friends” you say looking at him like a wet puppy.

“Do not start-”

“I’ll ask Aegon to do another” you say quickly “He’ll let me go”

“He’ll be the one to try to get in your pants” Aemond says, not looking at you. “And you need someone to present to you to Jace, so he can present Cregan to you. Aegon will do no best than to embarrass you”

You hum, as he knows your intentions well. He was your best friend since the start of college, and you two… worked together. He had your back, and you had his; he heard you ramble about your weekly crush and you heard about the books he read. Of course a friendship between you both was good, as you have managed to get along and become close. Yet, Aemond could not deny the sexual tension sometimes.

As if you didn’t catch him looking at your boobs. As if he didn’t catch you looking at his body in the gym.

“So go with me to convince him” you beg him.

“I am not in mood for parties”

“Because of Alys?�� She asks, sighing and rolling her eyes “Get over her, it’s like the twentieth time you two broke up.”

“Seventh time, and it’s not that” he corrects you, turning his head to look at you, and you roll your eyes.

“It is that, I know you” You say looking at him and she takes his right hand and she inspects it “Aha!” You turned his hand to his face “The body of the crime. You have been picking your fingernails” You expose him so easily.

“It was one time, and it is because I have a damn exam Monday that my brain cannot seem to want to study” He says, sighing, and showing you the papers. He looks stressed, like the little eye bags under his eyes tell you enough.

You look at him, and you press your lips together. “Then you need a distraction, like.. Going to a party?”

“Absolutely not” he says, rolling his eyes. “University is for study. Not for parties” He says, looking at you almost scolding you.

“Come on, what did you do when you needed to relieve stress from the last exam season?”

“Alys” he responds with a smirk, which makes you gag. “And things with her that you don’t wanna know.”

“First of all, ew” You say looking at him as you are basically seated on the weirdest position by his side, your elbow resting on the table as you are turned to him, keeping the conversation alive. “Second of all, Alys? Really? You could go to a party and..”

“No parties”

You remain silent a bit as he starts to refocus his attention on his papers, but you can’t just keep quiet, it seems.

“Then get laid”

“I swear to the gods-”

“But think about it!” You say, and you can hear the ´shhh´somewhere in the library, so you sigh “Think about it” You repeat almost in a whisper “Let’s say, I present to you… Floris Baratheon, or anyone else from my friend group. You present me Cregan Stark, and we both get laid. You then, wake up tomorrow with a renewed energy to study to your political philosophy exam, and you get a perfect score as you always did… before her”

“Do you truly think getting laid will help me study? You are so delusional” He shakes his head as he searches for his last essay to have something to study.

“Ouch, rude.” You state “But it will help. She broke your heart!” Your whisper is loud, as if scolding him. “And you are miserable for it, if you don’t believe me, ask your fingers; if they are not too busy bleeding” You add sarcastically.

He squints his eyes at you, and he sighs. You were insufferable, in more than one way. But most of the time, you were right. In an odd and annoying way, you were right. He wasn’t concentrating, at all. No matter how hard he forced himself, it wasn’t working.

“It is clouding your mind. You have to get rid of the problem by root; you either let your frustrations go away, or we just gonna have to kill Alys” You say shrugging.

“Absolutely not.” He says and he rolls his eyes.

He looks at how you really want this, and he sighs. Maybe he could do something that could benefit you both.

“Maybe I could invite them to our study session” He says, almost instantly regretting his choice, but you seem too excited to care.

“Oh… That’s brilliant!” You say excited and you lean to kiss his cheek in excitement, and you lean back.

“I’ll invite Jace, and tell him to bring his friend group. The northerner will be there” He added.

“That is brilliant, truly brilliant” You repeat, and he has to roll his eye at how amazed you seem by his ideas. “We get to study, and then get laid.”

“It’s a study group, not an orgy” He clarifies.

“I know, imbecile. I mean, study… and then after, Cregan and I go to your room…”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT” he clarifies very quickly, and someone also shushes him. “It's going to be in Aegon’s house. I am not risking my own home for people to come, besides, Vhagar hates visits”

“Whatever, it is so exciting!” You say clapping happily as he collects all his papers and books, and the same student at your side tries to shush you again. “I’ll invite Floris and you Cregan”

“You just want to get laid” Aemond says in a sigh.

“You do too” You say, smirking. “For stress relieving purposes”

The thing that Aemond finds annoying, apart from your obnoxious talking, is how indecisive you were sometimes. You would worry and obsess over the smallest details out of control. And it probably bothered him because he was the same.

Much hours later, he was sitting on your bed, as he checked his phone. The photo of him and Alys was still one of the last things in his gallery, and he often looked at it, looking at her smile, at her eyes, and how her hand rested on his leather jacket. He looked happy; as happy as Aemond can look. She has her typical red lipstick, and her hands with the perfect manicure that he liked when scratched his hair.

He sighs, and he bites his lip without knowing what to feel, he hates her, he misses her. But he knows it is for the best to let her go.

“Do not tell me you are looking at her photos” You say on the other side of your dorm, as you apply the last parts of your makeup.

“Can’t I miss her?” He asks you.

“You can, and you will. She was your girlfriend.” The little shrug and how you look away knows you are not teasing him as usual. “You weren’t on the same page”

“How can someone… old can be so… indecisive and not know what they want?”

“Old but immature” You say, rolling your eyes. “I am not one to hate women, you know it is not my style, but I swear, that woman..:”

“I know” He says, turning off his phone, and he turns his head to look at you. “Do you think I'm over that so fast?" he sighs, feeling a little bit of relief as she is serious about the matter. Even if she always teased, she was a good listener when needed. "I don't know what is wrong with me. I miss her, and every time I see a woman I compare them to her" he mutters rubbing his eyes a bit.

“I have been there” You say as you keep applying some blush on your cheek, looking at yourself in the mirror as you keep the conversation flowing. “It is not the end of the world. It sounds mean, but… Nobody died, the world didn’t explode…”

“I know” he murmurs, and he sighs. “But I miss her” he insists.

“Oh, yeah” You roll your eyes as he clearly didn’t hear anything you said at all, turning your head to face him. You smirk almost mischievously as your eyebrows raise a bit “Poor Aemond, missing his sugar mommy”

“She was not my sugar mommy”

“She was the grandma to your Aaron Taylor Joy. The Elvis to your Pricilla, the… Woody Allen to your… I don’t know the name of his stepdaughter.”

Aemond has to laugh at that, because as ridiculous you were, you always made him laugh with your stupid things. It makes him feel better, because he is always serious, and you are so unserious.

“Shut up” he says laughing a bit, and he sighs, feeling slightly better.

“Point is, she is much older and you are much… inexperienced in the field.” You say with a nod “And you are far better not having to live up to her expectations” His hum is the only thing he does, and at least you know he heard you.

“I thought you liked her. When we were together you always were friendly, sharing makeup and stuff” He murmurs.

“I am always going to be a friend of your girlfriends, and a hater when they are your exes.”

You stand up after finishing your makeup, trying to look tidy and clean before the mirror, and you accommodate your hair so it looks fine. It is a bit endearing how you try to look as best as possible, as you reach for perfume before applying it from head to toe.

You look amazing, he has to admit. You wear a green skirt with a black tie front top, very revealing in his opinion, but it was still cute. You even took the time to search for a headband to match it all, which made him chuckle a bit. Even your makeup noted the effort you put into this outfit, and he knew very well what you wanted; to get laid.

“So, I thought that maybe the heels were too much, but these boots are really..”

“We are just going over to study… Wait, are you ovulating?” He asks, looking at the date on his phone, and he looks at you.

“Maybe? Are you asking me that because I wanna get laid?” You say unsure why he asks. “Shut up” you murmur amused at the idea.

He knows you are, for sure. He wasn’t too sure what the effect of ovulation was on women, but for some reason, they were always hotter in those days. At least, you were right now; your figure was well defined, he could even swear your breasts were rounder and firmer. His fingers tap his own thigh as he thinks deep about it, as you ramble about your outfit.

“I can see your ass” He says, looking at you.

“That’s the whole point” You add moving your top a little lower, so your boobs are practically spilling out. “To make him drool for me”

“In a study group…”

“If I like a man, I wanna see him hard just from the sight of me” You clarify as you accommodate your hair.

Aemond is not listening to you. You move slightly as you look in the mirror, and the way you lean to make sure your tits look decent, tempting but not obscene. He has a good view of it, your tits are definitely different. Is it because you are ovulating?

Because you look absolutely gorgeous, showing skin yet it isn’t so indecent. Suggestive? Yes. But it doesn’t make you look bad. It is reasonable. Why do you look so good, though?

“I think I know what is missing” You say as you walk to search for one of your favourite earrings.

As you lean to grab your earring, you quickly put them on and you nod at yourself; you look good. You like it, you feel confident enough to go to a man and flirt.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, feeling Aemond’s eyes bore into your skin, and you look at his reflection in the mirror, and he looks back at you.

“Like what?” He asks in a raspy tone as he accommodates in the bed, sitting with open legs as he plays with his phone in his hands.

“I don’t know” you shrug. “Is it so bad?”

“Horribly bad” he says, trying to tease you but it sounds strangled and you nod satisfied.

As you finish some touches on your outfit, you look at him and nod, “ I am satisfied with that”

He hums, using his phone once again and seeing the image of Alys that was still there when he unlocked his own phone. She was radiant, of course. She was always so… Convincing. But for now, at least, it isn't her who he lusts after. It feels a bit like a betrayal, even if he wasn’t hers and she wasn’t his anymore. Yet… he does not feel guilty.

“One would say that at the seventh time you would have learned something” You say teasingly, and you are quick to move and grab his phone from your hands. “To delete the pictures”

“Give it back” he says trying to grab his phone, quickly standing up and moving his hands, following yours as you try to dodge his attempts. “It isn’t funny”

“It only hurts you, you look like a wet puppy-”

“I don’t want to let her go”

“You must” you insist and he has both arms at the side of your waist, his hands trying to grab his phone behind your back. “Let me delete them. You clearly can’t”

“No”

“You need it”

“It is the only thing I have left” He insists, a bit defeated by it all, he was stubborn (As you also were)

“Trust me” you say softly, looking at him with your kind eyes. Kinder than his ever were. “Trust me” you repeat looking at him.

He sighs, his body against yours and his arms grabbing your wrists. He lets go of his firm grip, but he doesn’t move. He looks at you, with deep eyes and lost in thought. Maybe too close, for your opinion, since his chest practically presses against yours and his breath hits your own face.

“I don’t want to be here when it happens” he murmurs.

“Wait in the car then” you say looking at him. “I’ll delete most of them. Won’t take me more than five minutes”

“Don’t inscribe me in a essosi gay porn site or something, my mum would kill me if she ever-” he says looking at her with slight worry.

“Go” you insist, taking his phone in his hands.

His lockscreen was a picture of Vhagar, the little grumpy thing frowning as much as a cat can, even if it is adorable it was still just a quick change from the Alys wallpaper.

Aemond is probably the most organised person in your friend group,so when you enter his gallery you see all the carpets with photos.

Alys pops up first, as her name started with the first letter in the alphabet. You look at the photo in the cover of the file, and you roll your eyes at the photo. You press the file and it is all photos of her, some with him, some alone. You press one, of where he seems all smiles and she kisses his cheek, and then you select all of those and you sigh.

It was even hard for you, it felt a bit wrong. But you just press delete all the files, and then all 148 photos and videos are gone. You watch the album disappear and back the rest of the albums.

There was one of you.

You frown a bit confused, and there are a lot of moments with you that he organised. You can see some of the photos of the plates you eat together and you posing at the background, ruining his photos (as you like to call it)

There are some selfies, and some photos of you, totally unaware of his doing, you have to giggle a bit, because probably half of them you looked terribly, but you knew he was a gentleman enough to delete those ones

And there is the video.

You do not recognise what it could be at first, the photo of the preview was oddly just the ceiling and the top of his silver hair. You frown confused, because it was mildly recent and you do not remember a video. Aemond wasn’t a fan of videos either, he preferred the immortality of photos.

You hesitantly press it, and the video starts as Aemond sat on his couch. Was it his apartment? Yes. By his clothes, you knew that he came right after the gym. He was wearing that tight black shirt and his sweatpants.

“Tis’ stupid” he murmurs as he sits, and he sighs. You see how he accommodates the camera on the coffee table in front of the couch, and he takes a bit to get it at the right angle. You don’t understand much, as the angle only shows his lower body part, from his torso to his knees.

Once you understand, he is already lowering his sweatpants to his knees, and he sighs. You freeze in place as his very prominent erection comes to light, almost jumping once free from his pants, and he is quick to grab it with his hands, just taunting it softly.

“I’m really horny” he says and he chuckles a bit, embarrassed, you could tell. He was a bit awkward as he presented his erection to the camera. “For you, really…” He admits in a low murmur.

You really don’t see what happens with his hand off camera, but he then starts to slowly caress his erection. That man, your best friend. And you are paralysed looking at that. As he whimpers and masturbates for a camera, his pale skin from his thighs and abdomen showing, and you could see the ring with dragon scales that he never takes off.

“That’s it” he murmurs in a low tone, almost muffled by the microphone as he leans back on the sofa, showing you more of his chest and part of his chin, as he licks his lips. His hands stroke his cock softly, as you can see his right hand goes down to fondle his balls, as the palm of his left hand moves to the tip of his dick and starts moving around it.

It’s… weird, to say the least. You never saw, or thought about him this way. Okay. Scratch that. You never had entertained the idea of him doing this. The idea that Aemond… could be hot. Of course you knew he was hot, but it was different seeing him masturbate as he whimpers and fucks his hand for a camera. And it was… strange. The pleasure accumulating on your belly as you heard him curse. It felt… betraying. Somehow.

“Fuck, Alys-”

You instantly pause the video at that. The name of her is like a bucket of cold water thrown at you, and you snap back into reality. You can feel your cheeks red, and embarrassment floods your senses. Almost trembling, you close all applications and then sigh.

He must have organised it wrongly. You are sure of that. Maybe he meant to delete it? And accidentally ended on your carpet? Weird, but somehow ended there. He must have not meant it, of course… It wasn’t like a tribute to you, probably meant for Alys, since he obviously moaned her name and talked to the camera as if putting on a show.

Ew. Alys really managed to convince the reserved Aemond Targaryen to do this? You are actually quite intrigued and a bit impressed by her.

Once you enter the car, Aemond is resting his head back on his seat, and he barely opens his eyes to look at you, barely turning his head to watch you.

“And?”

“I successfully did the task. And now you joined the Night’s Watch, so don’t worry about that”

“Ha ha” he says, taking his phone back, without more suspicion he just puts it in his pocket. You blink a bit looking at his arms and his lap, and you turn your head to the road.

You two stand in silence as the short drive to Aegon’s apartment, and since Aemond gets brother’s privileges, he totally uses Aegon’s parking spot.

“And his car?” You ask, confused as he parks in the place that clearly has an ‘22F’ and not the one for visits.

“You think that he still has a car? He probably already crashed it while drunk”

“To be fair, I didn’t know what I expected” you shrugged “And I suppose that his career…”

“Yep. He dropped out of Graphic design.” Aemond says without much care, since everyone was used to Aegon just dropping out of college each week. He turned off the engine and looked at you. “So… Cregan Stark”

“Yes, Cregan Stark” you say, as it is your main goal for tonight.

“What is your plan?” He asks leaving the keys in his pocket as he turns to look at you still, the car was off but you two stayed there.

“Well, I go there and I greet him”

“Uh huh…”

“No, no, your nephew. Yeah, so you present me to Jace. And you ask him to present me to Cregan”

“But… what about the impressions?” He looks at you expectantly “You don’t want to be the weird friend from my best friend’s uncle”

“Well, I can’t just… go there and throw myself at him.”

“Okay” He says resting his hands on his thighs, and he taps them “Pretend I am Cregan”

“That is so lame…”

“We did that when I wanted to talk to Alys, remember that you pretended to be her?” He says with a smirk, and he looks at you with a nod.

“Look where it got us” You murmur and he rolls his eyes “Fine, okay, I’ll… stay there”

You step out of the car and sigh. Luckily, there was no one else in the parking lot to judge your weird tradition. You play with the door handle and pretend that you are truly going to talk to Cregan Stark.

“Hey” You say sitting and looking at him.

“Hey” Cregan would say. You move your hair a bit and you smile a bit.

You present yourself and extend your hand, and Cregan would shake it. He was surely very polite, you both knew. So you continue.

“I just saw you from afar and wanted to talk to you” You start saying, as your fingers play with the edge of your skirt as you look at your lap. “Like, outside from the study session, of course…”

“You have to look at him” Aemond murmurs, stepping out of character.

Right. “You surely have seen me in some of Jace’s parties, and in some classes” You add.

“Oh, yeah. I remember his Sevenmas party” Cregan would say, and crossing his arms.

“Yeah! You remember…” Your voice is more light, and you would look at Cregan. “I had a good first impression from you”

“From accidentally throwing Jace’s Sevenmas tree downstairs?” Aemond Cregan would laugh, and you laugh a bit as he leans back on his seat, his hands in his pockets. He is attractive, and you press your thighs together as you accommodate in your seat as well, your body turning to face him even more as your attraction increases.

“It was a bit funny, but it wasn’t… It was a human mistake. I thought it was cute” You say with a thin smile.

“You helped to clean that mess, if I recall” He would point out.

You nod. Even if the real Cregan doesn’t know that, because he was not aware of what happened after he threw it, since he was very much intoxicated and they took him to another room. Aemond and you helped Jace to clean the place.

“I assure you it was nothing.” You insist “I saw you in the campus another times, and I never had the courage to get closer to you”

“Oh, why is that?”

“Well… You don’t…” You hesitate to open your feelings, but fuck it. “You don’t seem the type of men that like girls like me”

“Girls like you?”

You nod and smile a bit embarrassed, looking down at your lap. “Well, You are obviously out of my league”

“I wouldn’t say so” His voice hesitates.

“I would. You are like a superstar in College. I am not.” You shrug a bit, and hum in deep thought.

“Maybe” Cregan would say “Doesn’t feel like it”

“You surely are after pretty girls, like… Cassandra Baratheon or.. Elinor Massey”

“I am looking at a pretty girl” His hand reaches yours, and you look up. His hand is warm, much bigger than yours and very comforting as he squeezes your a bit. Not Cregan, but Aemond. “What makes you think that I don’t like you?”

You blink, a bit unsure. “I…”

“Because I certainly like you very much” Aemond goes on, smiling very subtly, but it was very alluring to you, and his thumb caressed the back of your hand. “You certainly are a beautiful woman. Who wouldn’t want you?” He asks, leaning a bit closer to you and you look a bit hesitant.

“You must be jesting with me” You add, trying to remain confident, but Aemond was doing his doings.

“I certainly am not”

“Then I must insist on kissing you” You add reincorporating and also leaning close to him. “It would be a waste if not…”

Aemond smirks, and his breath hits your face. You knew that he smoked as he waited for you when you deleted his photos, because he smells like cigarettes. You look at his face, his eye looking at your lips and then at your eyes briefly. You both look at each other as your breath and his are practically merging.

“Isn’t it logical?” You murmur, looking at his eyes, and tauntingly you move your chin closer.

You would kiss him right here and now. You remember the video, how you could see his pretty lips and the whimpers that came out of it. How his big and firm hand caressed his cock, up and down and how his abdomen tightened thanks to it. How his balls seem so full and ready to cum…

He smirks. “It sounds like it…”

His phone rings.

You two separated, breaking off the fantasy of it. You sit paralysed in your seat, looking at the other cars parked horrified.

It was your best friend. Yes,you knew he was hot, you knew he was attractive and you certainly know how perfect his cock is, in more than one way. But we are talking about your Aemond. The one who wiped your tears away and the one who would pass book summaries for classes, and his notes for shared classes when you fell asleep.

“Aegon wants me to… uh, buy something…” He says, a bit awkward as well, as he doesn’t look at you, but just assumes you are hearing. “So… I’ll go, you can go up and wait there, yeah..”

Once you step out, you would hope for something else, but he just closes the door as you step out and he leaves in his car.

Other times he would give you Aegon’s house keys, for you to enter normally and do whatever you wanted, since you get brother’s best friend privileges. And Aegon never denied you hanging in his house.

So that is how you find yourself in the middle of the room with a terrified look as you look at the group of people seated in Aegon's living room.

“Hey, Aemond’s shadow” Aegon teases you as he stands up from the couches, and you look at him, a bit embarrassed since all of Jace friend’s

“M’not his shadow” You say trying to defend your image in front of the group.

“You definitely are” He says amused “Nothing to be ashamed of, darling”

“Oh, shush” you say hitting his shoulder “Have you started studying, anyways?” You ask him curiously.

“He told me you wanted to meet Cregan Stark” He whispers close to you, almost too nonchalantly to your taste.

“What, but… b-but Aegon, you’ll embarrass me!” You whisper in panic, as he drags you along, but he shakes his head.

“Aemond told me all ‘bout it. Don’t worry, you’ll be fucking him before you realise it. I’ll even let you fuck in my bedroom” he whispers in your ear before practically pushing you into the living room.

You frown a bit disgusted at the idea, and you hit his shoulder again. He could be very charming and fun, but you knew Aegon and his weird fixations. Who knew, maybe he even had a camera in his bedroom and you certainly didn’t want him to see that.

That reminds you of Aemond’s video. Gods be good, you say as you have to blush a bit at the memory.

“Here she is” Aegon says amused, and you tense your shoulders. Jace greets his uncle and you look at Cregan more shyly than you anticipated.“You sure met this lovely shy flower?”

You cringe at how he presents you, this is exactly why you wanted Aemond to do this job.

“Oh, yeah, yeah you helped me clean my Sevenmas tree when Cregan threw it downstairs” Jace recognizes you and you nod, giggling.

“Yep, it was me”

“Ugh that was so embarrassing” Cregan groans and you laugh a bit.

“it wasn’t as terrible as you think” you shrug.

“You just broke the millennial seven pointed star from my great great great… great great great grandfather Jaehaerys” Jace says, mocking him.

“I’m pretty sure you exaggerated the ‘great great great’ grandfather part”

“It is old as fuck” Aegon confirms with a nod.

“You wouldn’t know a relic even if it was in front of you” Sara mocks him. Aegon rolls his eyes as he goes to open the door of his house, since his other cousin, Baela also was invited.

“Oh, this is Sara, my sister” Cregan takes advantage of Aegon’s disappearance and introduces her to you, and you introduce yourself to her with a smile.

“Lovely name” she says smiling to you.

“She is my uncle’s best friend” Jace adds and Sara knows in acknowledgement, she then looks at both and asks.

“Which one, the hot one or the other?”

“The hot one” you respond with a confident nod.

“The other one” Jace contradicts you and you both look at each other blinking.

“Ohhh” Sara says a bit confused, amusedly as she looks between you both.

“Wait, you find Aegon hot?” You ask to Jace with a face frown

“Handsome in comparison” He clarifies making room for his dignity “And you find Aemond hot?”

“In comparison” You reply back with the same words. “He is my best friend”

Once you are all together, you think how silly this is. Studying together, how an awful excuse to get closer to Cregan. Aemond comes in some minutes later, sitting by your side on the couch. He doesn’t talk much as he takes out his books and notes.

“Floris, you came” you say as she was the only stranger in the group, and you make a space between Aemond and you, after all, you were playing cupid too. “Sit here!”

The thing with study groups is that everyone is on a different boat. You didn’t have many complaints, you have the same class but on other days, so you just swallow information as Aemond, Jace, Baela and Cregan are the ones more interested in the concepts since their exam is earlier than yours.

You watch Cregan speak, and how he is a bit wrong in central ideas, which Aemond is quick to point out, but you try to correct him smoothly and without making him feel useless.

At one point, you all agree to give up and ask for a pizza in the break, and after it to keep study (That’s what all study groups say before doing the opposite)

In the break, you can hear how Aegon, Baela, Jace and Sara are in the kitchen. Fighting with Aegon as he makes the call for the pizza, screaming at him how they do not want any pineapple on it. Floris has gone to the bathroom, and Cregan went to the balcony to smoke in peace.

You look helplessly as he leaves, and soon Aemond is talking to you.

“And?” he asks curiously, looking at where Cregan disappeared.

“He hates me” You tell him, looking at him with a sigh “He clearly has no interest in me, I didn’t know what I expected”

“I told you Aegon would fuck thing up” You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“It is not fucked up” You add, stubbornly. “I still have a secret weapon”

“Showing him your tits doesn’t qualify as a secret weapon”

You hum in annoyance and decide to subtly change the subject “And Floris?”

“Too… perfect” He murmurs, not looking at you “I should go back to her.”

You look at him incredulously and hit his chest “Too perfect?” You ask with a snark “Just… hook up. She wants to” You shrug and pat his back

“Fine. I’ll hook up with her. Do not ask for a ride, because I’ll be busy”

“Hopefully, I will too” You say, excited at the idea “I'll be with him. Can you handle me a fag?” You ask.

“You don’t smoke” He says incredulously at the idea that you would fake smoking for a man.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll have to ask Cregan, how bad” you say mockingly as you stand up with a smile and walk to the balcony to open it.

Cregan is there and he turns to look at you. He acknowledges you with a nod, and you smile shyly as you close the sliding door.

“Hey. Care to share with a poor lady?” You say

He chuckles and handles you the cigarette, now minding to look at you as he leans on the balcony to look below at the ground. You put the cigarette in your mouth and before you can cough, you throw the air out. A pathetic attempt, but Cregan was not watching you anyways.

“I thought.. I thought you went to Winterfell’s Uni” you say looking at him, leaning on the balcony too as you pass the fag back to him. “Since, well, your family basically founded the institution”

“Oh, yeah, yeah” He says in a raspy tone as he scratches his beard a bit, crossing arms as he leans against the balcony to face inside of the flat, watching how Floris comes back from the bathroom. “But, Jace did two semesters there, and so as his best mate, it’s my turn to do the semesters… here” Cregan says with a nod.

“Oooh, how fancy” You say without really knowing what to say. With Aemond it had been easier, you just talked to him and flirted with him naturally (Because he was just acting as Crean, no other reason), but with the real Cregan it was awkward. “And… ehm, do you like it here?”

It was painfully and horribly awkward. You were tense, and more than attracted to him, you looked terrified.

“Yeah, yeah, College is fine, I guess” He shrugs, not really immersed in the talk as he smokes looking at the inside of Aegon’s flat.

“We… We actually share another class” You dare to speak again “Logical thinking, Wednesdays in the morning” you say looking at him with a bright smile.

“Does he always look at you like that?” He asks, pointing at the living room with his cigarette, before smoking another puff.

You turn your head to look where he pointed out, and you blink a bit. Aemond looks at you as Floris Baratheon is talking to him, she wears a pretty floral yellow dress and her long dark hair is loose. Floris has always been as beautiful as kind, and you know she has been interested in Aemond long enough. Not a crush, you’d say, maybe for a hookup.

“He is just looking after me” You clarify looking back at Cregan.

“Hm” he says, the cigarette on his lips, he lets out the smoke.

Cregan either didn’t care about Aemond, or he just ignored him, as he passed his cigarette to you, not looking if you properly smoked it.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to” You say smiling to him, and you hear how Jace and Aegon talk about drinking some vodka or tequila to ‘suppress the stress in the room’

“It was no problem” He says, with a chuckle looking inside again “You like vodka?”

“A little too strong for me” You say with a laugh.

“Oh” He says looking at you “Well, in the North you can buy one basically in every corner. More when it is Winter”

You blink a bit, and you nod. Did you just fucked up? Because you remember how offended Aemond was when you told him Dragons weren’t that cool. Maybe it was the same for Cregan… You look at him, and he is inside once again, not really minding at you.

“I am sure in the north it is more tasty” You try to save the situation, and you briefly look at where Floris is, but not at the sight of Aemond. “Which is your favourite flav-”

“Do you know Alysanne Blackwood?” He asks suddenly, and your cheeks burn due to that.

“Oh?” You ask confused.

“I do not mean to be rude” He adds, looking at you “You are a lovely lady, but you see.. I am after another girl. Like Jace’s uncle is after you”

“Aegon is not-”

“The other” He says as if it was obvious. “And I have been wanting to get with Alysanne for a long time, do you know about her business with Frey's girlfriend?”

You blink confused at him, and you shake your head slowly.

“No, not really…”

“Oh, a pity. Jace and I have been dying to know about it, to know if she is single, I mean. And if she is interested in men as she is to women..” From the start of the conversation, this is the most he has talked about. And it didn’t involve you. But his crush who he was after.

“I am pretty sure that…” You say looking at your hands, a bit nervous “That Oscar Tully must know, he is into gossip and-”

“Thank you” Cregan says smiling to you, before patting your shoulder and leaving you alone at the balcony, as Jace calls his name from inside to decide between vodka or tequila. You remain confused, ashamed and a bit awkward.

You walk inside to spot Floris once again. She has a juice glass on her hand and she is talking to Baela, both sitting on the couch, but you didn’t see Aemond.

“Hey, Flo” You say, patting her shoulder, and she smiles as you join them. “Have you seen Aemond?”

“Aemond?” She asks with a laugh, and she shakes her head “He wasn’t that interested in me, y’know, like I even offered to go to one of Aegon’s rooms, but he wasn’t in the mood.” She shrugs nonchalant, because that was Floris, she never made a deal if things didn’t end up happening.

“Oh” You say, a bit confused. He said he was going to go with her. “And he didn’t say..?”

“Nope” She shrugs “Maybe Aegon knows”

“If he is not too busy fighting with Jace about the drinks. Thanks”

As you pull Aegon aside, you can see how Jace and Cregan take out the vodka drink from Aegon’s collection and they offer it to everyone (Which is only the other three girls, but it was a majority)

“No idea. He said he was going to go to the gym, but I don’t think so. He took his cigarettes, so probably smoking” Aegon shrugs, as he makes himself a drink with tequila (You are very sure he got the measures wrong, because no drink has that much whisky) “Maybe he is in his car, texting Alys like the sad meow meow he claims to be”

You roll your eyes, but you thank him. You leave the apartment, in a different way you thought you would be leaving. Hopefully, with Cregan it was your bet. Now, it was all alone and in search of Aemond.

Once the lift leaves you on the parking floor, you walk a bit to encounter Aemond, his back leaning against the copilot's seat by his car, his phone on his right hand and a cigarette in his mouth. He doesn’t look like someone who was at a party, less someone who seems to be having fun.

“Hey” You say softly, finally speaking in a normal tone after so much noise.

Aemond looks up, frowning to see you in front of him like a wet puppy. “What are you doing here? And Cregan?”

You sigh, and you look at the ground. You tried, so hard. You did all kinds of juggling, for nothing. He wasn’t even interested in you, the whole time.

“Hey” He says as he throws his cigarette to step on it, and he saves his phone from his pocket, two steps and his arms are all around you, hugging you safely in his chest as his chin is in the top of your head. “It’s okay, it’s okay..” He says soothingly, rubbing your back as if he knew you would cry.

And you normally wouldn’t truly, but his soothing actions and caring nature makes you a bit more vulnerable than usual. Not crying, but you feel more disappointed as he tries to make it better.

“He is an asshole, you will get over him..” He says softly “It’s fine, do not…, I’m sorry” He says rubbing your back

“Tis not your fault” You murmur as you lean your head on his chest.

“I should’ve been the one to pair you with him, not leave Aegon to it”

“It would have gone horribly anyways.” You say, passing your arms in his waist to hug him back. It was nice to have him close and hugging you. “He is just… Not interested in me” You add, a bit frustrated. “Because I apparently suck and am the most boring girl ever”

“You are not” He says sternly, moving a bit back to look at you, and you look up at him “You don’t say that, you are…” He looks at your face, as if finding words as he tries to remember each tiniest detail of your expression; how your eyes look up to him, how your mouth is like a pout, and how your cheeks are a slight shade of pink. “You are incredibly amazing.”

You look at him for a moment, both of your faces so close and you look at his lips. He was so charmingly handsome, and the way he comforts you makes you feel secure enough to gain some confidence. And for him… he couldn’t bear it any longer, he can’t physically hold back.

The kiss you two share is maybe purely impulsive, or maybe it is the consequence of a long shared tension between you both. But at the moment, neither of you pay any mind to the fact.

In his arms, he has caged you and his hair briefly falls,touching the sides of your face and some of your cleavage. You squeeze him a bit in your embrace, kissing him back eagerly and it is slow, passionate and something that it was obviously longed for.

Aemond moves your hair to take it in his hands, his fist grabbing a handful of your hair as he moves his arms away from the hug, now holding you to stay as he deepens the kiss and his (and your) desire grow and grow.

Maybe you both didn’t want to stop the kiss not to face the consequences, how kissing a friend would potentially ruin your friendship, and nothing will ever be the same. You certainly don’t want the after talk about it afterwards.

“Mhm” Aemond says as you both separate. “This is much better, Yeah?” He says nuzzling his nose in your cheek as his voice is like soft silk. You were a bit confused of this all, of this weird way of comforting you. “You made sure to look so beautiful for a useless boy, mhm? Cregan Stark cannot call himself a man when he cannot appreciate a pretty girl like you.” He says softly, his hands caressing your back, and going down to the lower of your back, where your naked skin shows.

You are a bit confused, still leaning to his affections because damn if they aren’t nice. Your body practically craves it, part as to why you were so looking forward to getting laid.

“Aemond, we…”

“Shh, I know…” he murmurs as he leans to leave a little kiss on your neck. “But… we had a goal for tonight, hm? Didn’t we?” His tone is soothing, almost hypnotic. “It could do good for us” He adds softly, moving your hair to plant another kiss on your neck.

“We… we are best friends…” You say, a bit worried about ruining it. There was a clear difference between platonic and other feelings, romantic or sexual. And as clear as it came, it was also very thin.

“This is only a one time thing…” He murmurs, his hand still caressing your back and waist. His head slowly rises from your neck to look at you with his eye full of lust and starving desire. “For stress relieving purposes, yeah?”

You are convinced by his words, because Aemond could always be convincing enough. You knew that, but you also knew that you longed for him. It was as if all the day was aimed up to this moment; the video, the small tease in the car and now this kiss.

You quickly realise that you want him, as much as he seems to want you. At the same time, you both need it. Alys, Cregan, the exams and all had you on your nerves. It was like walking in eggshells around the other, because your body and mind couldn't take a break after one thing, because in fact, life never waits for you to recover, just goes on and you are expected to go along on or get lost in the way.

“Yeah. yeah, fuck me” You murmur in his lips as now it is you who kisses him back, pressing boldly your body to his, as your hands move away the hair from his face. He still smells like cigarettes, and his scent is masculine, maybe the new cologne that he bought a few weeks ago. The way that he grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him was almost desperate, almost as if he never wanted this to end. He is craving it, he is starved.

He basically handles your body to the copilot’s seat, pushing it all the way back and lowering the backrest a bit lower, but not too much. He sits on it and practically drags you to his lap as he desires, closing the door behind you. You have to lower your head a bit, but he takes no time in passing his hands under your shirt and all the way in your back.

“You are not wearing a bra” he notes looking at you raising his eyebrows.

“Doesn’t the building’s parking lot have cameras?” You ask looking out the windows.

“Answer me” He says, looking at you. “You are not wearing a bra”

“No. The shirt is a bit tight on the chest area, it basically is like a push-up..” You murmur looking the other way “Are you sure that there aren’t any…?”

“I don’t care” He murmurs, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulls you against his chest, as he kisses and nibbles your neck. “I hope they do. We could have a sextape of this moment” He says smiling as he moves lower to your collarbone.

“Aemond!” You say a bit flustered, and his hot kisses feel so good in your skin, and you move your hands to grab his hair.

“You make me so hard, I cannot hold back anymore” He says desperately, moving your chin to share another kiss between you both. You were as desperate as him, but you were more subtle, he thinks, because he knows you well.

He knew that you were cautious, following his lead. You might be confused, and a bit hesitant to ruin your friendship with him. But not doing this probably will do, he is sure of that.

He takes your hand and moves it to the bulge on his black pants, and you look down. Gods, even when clothed, his cock was huge. You had seen it in video, but touching it and looking at it, made you drool. You looked at him, and he was staring at your eyes, pink cheeks as he looked flustered.

“You make me so hard” he murmurs, looking at you “So, so hard. Your slutty green skirt, and that shirt that barely hides your tits, Gods woman, you were right, you could make any man drool for you” he says moving the hair out of your face.

“I wanna suck you” you murmur, your eyes hesitant and almost innocently looking at him. Fuck, he could cum just at those words coming out of your mouth.

You accommodate as you can in the floor of the car, a bit awkward and your upper body forcefully is forward, right at the height of his cock. You look up at him as you unbuckle his belt, the little metallic sound makes your pussy more wet, as Aemond looks at you almost amazed.

He lifts his hips as you lower his pants and underwear, his dick jumping free, standing fully hard and leaking a bit of precum at the tip, which is a little red and it is a bit swollen. It was better in person.

You lean a bit, as you spit on the head of his cock, and pass your hand through it, as Aemond lets a low “Fuck” as his hips tense and hesitates, as if he was holding back.

“Cregan Stark doesn’t deserve you” He says as your hand goes up and down on his cock, and you look up to him. He likes it, how powerless and innocent you look sitting between his legs and stroking his hard cock. It makes his ball tighten more. “Look at you, a needy girl for a cock” He says moving his hand to caress your cheek, and his thumb caresses your lower lip.

Your lips encircle around his thumb, and suckle just a little bit, as your hand keeps stroking his dick, slowly but firmly. Your pussy is aching with need, one of your hands barely touches your pussy over your panties, and you melt a bit as you suckle his thumb.

“I love your cock” You admit, looking at him with needy eyes, and he knows your words are sincere. “Tis better in real life”

Aemond frowns as he tilts his head, confused as to what you mean. “Hm?”

You don’t respond, as you stroke it and move to leave little kitten licks in the top, but he moves your chin away, as you forcefully try to get back to sucking his dick.

“No, tell me what you meant” His voice is like one when scolding a child, but you shake your head, trying to get your way. “Don’t be a brat”

“I saw it before” you say, moving his hand away, and he doesn’t make it go back. “In a video, earlier. It was in your gallery”

He realises what you mean, and he slaps your face slightly with his right hand. It wasn’t harsh, but you realise two things. The power this man had over you, and how much you liked that fact.

“Needy whore” he murmurs, looking at you, and you almost whine as he slaps your hand away from his cock. “It was not meant for you to see”

“It was on the carpet with my name!” You say to him.

“You touched yourself while seeing that video, hm?” He asks, leaning a bit, sitting back as his face is over yours. You almost whine again. “Your pussy was always so needy for my cock, hm? You couldn’t even get closer to Cregan tonight. If he was the one fucking you right now as you slutty brain wanted, you would still be thinking of my cock”

You lick your lips as his eyes are penetrating on yours, and you don't respond to his words. It may be a harsh truth, but how it turned you on.

“Little needy thing you are” He murmurs, leaning back again so he can rest against the back of the seat. He takes his dick on his hands, and smirks mischievously as he slaps it on your check. “Needy for this? This is what you want?” He mocks you as he slaps his cock in your cheek and closer to his mouth.

“Yes” you murmur blushing and trying to lick it as he does so, and he lets a shake breath at your naughty action.

“Open your mouth”

He grabs your hair again in his fist, the same hair he saw you so dedicatedly to make sure it was perfect, and he lowers your head to suck him off. Your throat takes his cock as he bobs your head, moaning breathlessly as he uses your mouth for his pleasure.

And you love it. His hips start to lowly thrust in your mouth, abusing your throat as he looks down at you. You looked so hot, so perfect. He didn’t know how you two didn’t do this before.

“Yeah, just like that” he murmurs fucking your throat before he lets you breathe a bit after so much time without air. You feel as if those minutes were barely seconds as you sucked his dick. “Come here. Take off your panties”

You don’t have to be told twice.

He lifts up the end of your skirt, as he holds your waist a bit. He looks at you, and his thumb moves to clean the drool in your chin.

“There is… there is a condom behind you” he murmurs and you tilt your head “there are condoms in the glove compartment”

You frown, but you take one off, and Aemond is the one to put it on himself, while you watch “How optimistic to save condoms there” you say smirking a bit.

“Oh shut up. Look, it serves for something now” he says smiling as his hand caresses your thigh. “I will prep you” he murmurs, moving his fingers closer to your centre.

“No” You stop his hand and you look at him. He frowns, and of course you want his fingers on your pussy. “I want your cock better”

Now he doesn’t have to be told twice.

You two accommodate as you can, he helps you lower your hips in his cock, and you hold from anywhere you can, really. The sting is pleasurable, and you don’t mind it, not when Aemond has you so wet and aching for this. His hard cock fills you slowly, but it was so pleasurable feeling how it opens you to take it.

“I don’t think this will work” you murmur, and he opens his eye to look at you.

“What…?”

“I cannot… My head hits the ceiling” You say as you have to lean your head to the side to sit properly on his lap. He looks at you, and he chuckles amused. “It is not funny”

“It is!” He argues back, laughing as his hands rest on your thighs, and you slap his chest playfully. “Come here, I’ll manage” he promises.

You sigh amused and you lean forward, pressing your chest to his as he wraps his arms around your waist. You pass your hands to his shoulders and look at his face that is so close to yours.

“Now, it is more comfortable?”

“Yeah” you say looking at him “But I also feel watched, since I can see the window by our side”

“Gods, woman” he says playfully slapping your ass, which makes you jump “Just ride the dick”

It was your Aemond. You know, because you don’t think you have ever been so comfortable having sex. It was natural, and you didn’t feel judged by him. He was your best friend,

Your hips go up and down on his cock, and your little moans are right in his left ear, delighting him as your pussy stretches as you ride him. Your moans are more like sobs, and his hands go over to your ass to help you lower yourself on his cock.

One of his hands moves to the knot in front of your tie front top, and he grabs one end and once it is open, he moves his mouth to eagerly suck on your tits.

“Aemond” Your whimpers come as he starts nibbling on them, and your moans are more desperate, and your cunt squeezes his cock harder.

His hands go back to your ass, and he spanks you as you let a little whine in full pleasure. He made sure to stimulate you whenever he can, and he is succeeding.

“You are a needy slut” he murmurs looking up to you, and you nod.

“Yeah, yeah, please…”

“Only for my cock” he adds, and he slaps your ass again, forcing your hip to stay still on his lap “Not Cregan” he adds “Not anyone”

“Aemond” you whine, winning another spank.

Now his hips start to thrust in you, making you whine and moan again, your body limp as you lay atop of his chest. He always knew you were a pillow princess.

“Who is making you feel this good?” His voice is a grunt, as he moves his hips up and pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

“You” you moan, and he groans as your pussy feels so warm, and perfect.

“And who am I?”

You hesitate to answer the philosophical question, unsure what his point was.

“Who am I to you?” He asks again.

“M-My best friend” you answer as he spanks you once again, the slap stings in your ass, moaning as your head rests on his shoulder, moaning right on his ear.

“Yeah, yeah, your best friend is making you cum, hm?” He says smugly, as he moans a bit more.

Again, hearing him moan and whimper on a video is one thing, but in real life…

“Fuck, fuck…” He says as he starts to feel close, his head leaning back in the seat and he turns his head to his left to look at you, your face on his shoulder and your left hand grips on his right shoulder.

“I am going to cum” you say almost submissively, he finds it so hot.

“I know” he says equally without breath.

“You make me feel so good” you say, your breath hits his face as he does the same on yours.

“You do too. So good, so perfect. You are nothing less but” He starts to ramble a bit, and you whimper as you press your forehead on his shoulder, looking down a bit to see how his dick fucks you.

As you cum, moaning loudly, and your forehead almost nuzzling on his shoulder, he feels his balls tightening more and more, slapping your ass a few times more as you whine from it. Your body is almost limp, and you creaming on his cock has to be one of the best feelings ever.

His cum comes hard and intensely, just as Aemond was overall. You wish there wasn’t a condom in between, but it was equally as good. You look at his profile as his mouth opens as he cums, his eyes closing shut as he spends on the condom.

You two fall into silence, still against each other, sweating and tired. The windows were all soggy and you giggle a bit without breath, at how insane this is.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing” you say.

“Little minx” he says smiling as he looks at your face.

“So, are you more clear of mind to study?”

“I am so going to fail that damn exam” he says with a chuckle, as he looks in front of him and moves some wet hairs out of his face. “Going to be thinking of your pussy all test”

You have to chuckle a bit, and you sigh. “Mm. Maybe.” You say with a smirk.

“But… if we go back to my place, and I fuck you properly on my bed, as you read to me all the concepts, I might pass the test”

You sit straight up, and slap his chest playfully. “Fine, but only because you are so stressed” you say mockingly and he nods, as if he was miserable due to it.

“So, so stressed. How lucky I have my best friend to help me with that”

665 notes · View notes

inspectorspacetimerevisited · 8 months

Text

Some fans (very few, truly) still don’t accept the relationship between the Inspector and his/her BOOTH,

in spite of the fact that the Inspector outright stated that it existed in ‘The Inspector’s Ex’.

3 notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Ino Takuma x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - minors do not interact!

Word Count: ~2.5k

cw: next-door neighbor Ino, friends-to-lovers trope, explicit language, smut - cunnilingus

Summary: Ino is the cute guy next door that you’ve befriended ever since you moved in. He’s been nothing but kind to you, and sure, there’s attraction there, but you’ve never acted on it considering you’re already taken. When you find out your long-distance boyfriend is a good-for-nothing cheater, you turn to your friend for comfort, and maybe something more.

Author's Note: My adoration for this man grows everyday! This one is kind of a tease, but I hope you still enjoy it! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune! Taglist: @slvt-for-smut @man-knees @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @antique-remains @aiyaaayei

part 5 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

It's a cold Friday night in the middle of winter when you find out your boyfriend of two years is cheating on you.

Kenzo is studying for his master’s degree overseas while you remain in your hometown, patiently waiting for his return. You’ve been long distance for almost a year now and while it’s difficult being apart, it’s mostly been manageable. Or so you thought.

You’re eating dinner with your next-door neighbor, Ino, when Kenzo finally texts you back. He’s been busy studying in the library for his upcoming exams and you haven’t heard much from him all day. When you see his name in your notifications, you can’t help but get excited, dropping your chopsticks to reply to him.

Kenzo: I’m finally home

You: Yay! Let’s talk soon

Ino prepared hot pot this evening, offering to treat you for the dinner you cooked the other night. The two of you have grown close over these past several months, enough to call each other friends. You’ve never hidden your friendship from Kenzo, who isn’t typically the jealous type. So when you tell him that you’re finishing up with your meal with Ino, you’re surprised when he sends you a rather blunt reply.

Kenzo: Can you hurry up? I have somewhere to be and can’t talk long

Your heart sinks. He never mentioned having any plans later, so you have no idea where he’s going. Ino continues to slurp on his soup innocently across from you.

You swallow hard, this sense of dread building in your stomach, making you lose your appetite. “Sorry, Ino. I have to go.”

He wipes his mouth with a napkin, looking at you, concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer, avoiding his gaze. “I just have to talk to Kenzo right now before he leaves. I guess he’s going out tonight.” You stand up, guilty about your boyfriend and about abandoning your friend. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll be back later to help you clean up.”

He waves it off, giving you a reassuring grin. “Don’t worry about it. Go do your thing with Kenzo. I’ve got all this taken care of.”

You smile back at him, thankful to have a neighbor so understanding and so sweet.

Back in your apartment, you rush into your bedroom, inspecting the mirror quickly to check your appearance before turning on your laptop for the video call. It takes him three rings to pick up. When he does, he greets you with a surly expression. “Hey.”

You smile hesitantly, nervous that he’s upset at you for whatever reason. “Hey. Is everything okay?”

He sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair. In the two years you’ve been dating him, you recognize this habit of his when he’s bothered by something. “Long day.”

“You want to talk about it?”

He contemplates, then shakes his head, deciding to change the subject all together. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

It’s doesn’t seem like a genuine ask. Still, you relax a bit, hoping his bad attitude is from exhaustion and nothing to do with you. “Yeah. Ino made hot pot tonight. I wasn’t able to finish it, but everything I ate so far was really good.”

This seems to strike a nerve in him. There’s that distinguishable twitch in his right eye, another indicator that he’s irritated. “Well, I’m sorry for taking you away from him,” he sneers. “Maybe you should go back to your other boyfriend now to finish your fucking dinner.”

In the one year you’ve been long distance, he’s never snapped at you like this, so you’re startled by his current demeanor. “What?”

He rolls his eyes at you. “It’s obvious you want to fuck him.”

Flabbergasted by this accusation, you repeat, “What?! Kenzo!”

“Why do you spend so much time with him, huh? You really expect me to believe you’re just friends?” His tone is so condescending, your skin prickles, grossed out by his behavior

“Where is this coming from? You never had a problem with Ino before.” You’re completely baffled. Never has he mentioned that he’s suspicious of your neighbor. He’s never had a reason to be. Why now?

He continues to huff into the mic, clearly frazzled by the entire situation. “I think this whole thing is just fucked up. So fucked up.” There’s the sound of vibrating on his desk, most likely his phone. You can see his eyes glancing to the side, reading whatever notification he received.

Bringing his attention back to the matter at hand, you calmly explain, “Kenzo. I promise you, there is nothinggoing on between me and Ino. He’s just a friend. Please believe me.”

Still distracted, he mutters, “I have to go.”

You’re getting desperate now. “Kenzo, wait. We should talk about this – ”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay?” he snaps, glaring at you. “I’ve had a rough day and I need to relax.”

“Kenzo, please,” you beg him.

He considers it for a moment. Then, in the background, you can hear knocking, bringing him back from his thoughts. “I have to go.”

Defeated, you nod, not pushing it any further. Without a proper goodbye, he clicks on his keyboard and rushes off to answer whoever’s at his front door, thinking he properly left the call. However, he’s still logged on, and you can see everything. And soon, you’ll hear everything.

You don’t get the chance to end the call yourself. It all happens so quickly. The thud of the door closing, the unfamiliar voice of a woman, their footsteps and conversation growing louder as they enter the bedroom. You’re tuned in on the laptop, watching them with wide eyes, frozen. Like watching a trainwreck happening in front of you. Actually, it’s more like you’re the one getting trampled.

His back faces the camera, arms wrapped around another girl, his lips smacking noisily from their careless kisses. You sit there, mouth agape at what you’re currently witnessing, holding your breath.

“I can’t wait to fuck this pussy,” he groans, unbuckling his pants. You resist the urge to dry heave at how disgusting he sounds.

“Yeah?” she giggles. “It’s only been two days and you miss it already?”

“Fuck yeah,” he responds, sucking on her neck, groping her chest.

Before they can strip any more of their clothes off, you yell out his name, startling the both of them. “Kenzo! What the fuck?!” You don’t realize until now that tears are streaming down your cheeks, your throat dry and tight, struggling to get the words out.

He whips around towards the laptop, horror surrounding his face as he realizes, gawking at you through the screen, stammering his words. “What are you doing?!”

“What are you doing, asshole?!”

“Ken, who is that?” she asks, genuinely confused, stepping closer to you to get a better look.

“I’m his girlfriend,” you answer, trembling with anger. “Actually, I am now his ex-girlfriend.”

“You have a girlfriend?!” she shrieks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Had a girlfriend,” you correct her. “He’s all yours if you want him.”

He puts his face right up to the screen, his appearance making your skin crawl. “This is a big misunderstanding.”

“I heard what you said. I fucking saw what you did! How long?”

“This is the first time – ”

“A month,” the other woman answers, staring down at the floor, guilty. “We’ve been hooking up for a month. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

Kenzo turns to her, then back to you, sputtering nonsense. Apologies, excuses, just complete and utter bullshit. His bizarre behavior from earlier starts to make sense now. He was projecting whatever guilt he was suffering onto you. But while your conscience remains clean, his is sullied. Defiled, dirty, and ruined by his own volitions.

Having heard and seen enough, you hang up, slamming your laptop shut, sobbing into the palms of your hands.

~~~

Half an hour later, you leave your apartment, dragging your feet towards next door. Your eyes are puffy, cheeks sticky from unwiped tears, overwhelmed with emotion. Anger, heartbreak, and betrayal all at once. Kenzo’s been trying to reach you since you hung up on him, but you’ve ignored him each time, tempted to block him and be done with it once and for all However, you can’t bring yourself to do it yet. Maybe there’s just a small part of you that wants to spite him; you just don’t know how.

When Ino answers, you immediately launch into him, burying your face in his shoulder, crying. It can’t be helped. You need a friend. He doesn’t need to process it; being sweet is second-nature to him. He wraps his arms around you, massaging your back gently, squeezing you snug in his embrace. “What happened?”

Between sobs, you manage to reply, “Kenzo cheated on me.”

He tenses up, outraged. “What?”

You nod, wiping your face on the cotton of his sweatshirt, making a note in your mind to apologize for this later.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, hands still gentle along your spine. His touch is comforting, exactly what you need to dull the pain. He lets you indulge in his warmth for a moment, not speaking, listening to your ragged breathing steady.

Once the tears stop and you’re composed enough, you remove yourself from him, wiping your wet cheeks with your sleeve. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle.

He laughs softly. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I feel bad for bothering you.”

“You’re not.” He holds his hand out. “Do you want to talk about it inside?”

You nod, taking his hand, following him into his apartment, where he leads you to the couch. He passes you a tissue box, though you’re sure you’ve run out of tears by now. You’re alone sulking for a few minutes while he brews you a hot mug of tea, setting it on the coffee table when he returns. “Thank you,” you say, smiling at him. His presence alone has been comforting enough, but you hold the porcelain cup in your hands, basking in its soothing heat.

“Of course,” he grins, sitting next to you.

You rest your head on his shoulder. “You’re a great friend, Ino.”

He slides his fingers between yours, lacing them together. “You are too.”

This kind of intimacy feels natural with him, which is what surprises you. His hand fits so easily with yours, you begin to wonder why you haven’t held it before, why you haven’t been doing this from the start. Ino’s always treated you kindly, more than a neighbor should, better than your good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend ever did, and without asking for anything in return except your company.

Your heart thumps loudly against your chest, you’re sure that even he can hear it. You turn your head to look at him, so close that your noses are nearly touching. Swallowing thickly, you try to say something, anything, but you can’t, unable to articulate what you’re feeling in this moment.

He shrugs his beanie off, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Since we’re friends, let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel good. Make you forget about that asshole.”

It takes you a while to reply to him, but you do. “Okay, Ino,” you whisper, closing the small distance between you, staring at his mouth. “I trust you.”

He kisses you, gentle and almost too sweet, you want to savor it. When his tongue grazes your lip, you moan into his mouth, letting your inhibitions loose. You’re no longer thinking about the events from earlier this night. Instead, all you focus on is Ino and how good he feels against you. He increases the pace, kisses growing sloppier, your hands running through his hair while his roam your back. He trails along your neck, then down to your stomach, lower and lower until his hands are on your knees, gradually spreading your legs apart. “Can I?”

He doesn’t have to spell it out. You know exactly what he’s offering. And who are you to deny his generosity? After all, what are friends for?

“Please,” you beg him, brushing the hair away from his forehead, making sure he gets a good look at your pleading eyes. You need him to make you forget about everything.

He makes quick work of your clothes, stripping your bottoms and underwear off in one fell swoop, positioning himself between your thighs. “Call me Takuma,” he tells you, smooching your plush skin.

You let out a pathetic whimper as he flattens his tongue on your clit, stroking it slowly. He goes faster and messier the more his name pours out of your mouth in pleasured moans. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your first climax, grip tight in his hair, knees trembling from the stimulation. He doesn’t let up, though. Ino continues to eat you out until you’re pliant on the couch, yielding to every lick, suck, and stroke he delivers you. Your pussy throbs for him, wet and slick from your orgasms, ready to be filled with his cock.

Suddenly, your phone rings and you’re brought back to a grim reality, one where Kenzo still exists. His name flashes on the screen, requesting to video chat you for the umpteenth time tonight, trying to apologize for a sin that can’t be forgiven. You reach for the coffee table to silence your phone, wanting to ignore him. “Fuck, he’s calling me again. Sorry.”

“Answer it,” Ino says, still lapping at your puffy clit.

You laugh, looking down at him, certain that you heard him wrong. “What?”

He gazes up at you, lips all wet and swollen from devouring you. Drool leaks from the sides of his mouth, his chin shiny with spit and slick. His cheeks are rosy, eyes laden with lust. He smiles at you, endearing and sweet, with just the hint of wicked intent behind it. “Show him how good I treat you.”

Something stirs inside you. This is an opportunity to get your revenge. And sure, it’s petty and vindictive, but you’re a woman scorned by the man you loved, the man you thought loved you. Why shouldn’t you be?

Before you can chicken out, you point the camera towards Ino, who smirks, diving right back into your cunt, being extra loud this time. You answer the phone, Kenzo’s face maximizing on the screen, calling out your name, relieved you picked up. When he realizes what he’s watching, hearing you moan Ino’s name like you used to moan his, Kenzo’s expression contorts into one of rage, disgust. He starts cursing like a madman, shouting at Ino, at you. You drown it out with your own profanities. “Fuck, Takuma, right there! Right there! Oh fuck!”

Kenzo hangs up the call after he gets one more cruel remark in, but you don’t care. You’ve gotten your payback. Maybe it’s not enough, maybe it is. For now, all you want is to be with Ino, no more distractions. “Fuck me,” you whine, tugging on his brunette strands.

He crawls over you, kissing you passionately with wet lips. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

It’s safe to say that you and Ino become much better friends after tonight.

#ino takuma #ino takuma x reader #ino takuma smut #ino takuma x you #ino takuma fluff #ino x reader #ino jjk #ino x you #ino smut #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino smut #takuma ino x you #takuma ino fluff

568 notes · View notes

yorsgirl · 25 days

Text

Grant me a wish

Levi Ackerman x Reader

Synopsis: In which, Levi takes it upon himself to fulfil that one wish of yours.

Trope: Angst, fluff, established relationship.

Warnings: Post Canon, implied nsfw, kissing, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: Nothing just me milking my daydream with this fine specimen of a man. Fuck you Isayama for making my man go through all that shit 😭 (jk, thank you for writing this amazing story for us)

Levi never said that he loved you.

In all the years you've spent with him neither did he once speak those three words. He never said those words while you were in the infirmary being treated for your broken ankle.

Neither had he ever urged you to skip any expedition nor did he push you away when you were adamant to fight this war alongside him.

Perhaps, his love is not to be heard. It's meant to be felt.

It was felt when you were the first one he looked for after every expedition. It was felt when he'd ask you to stay back for training. It was felt he himself strapped the harness of your ODM before an expedition. It was felt that after submitting the paperwork he'd take a trip to your room. It was felt when he told you about his past; revealing each and every darkest secret as you shared a cup of tea under the starlight. To know the hands which caressed your form every night with tenderness were the same hands stained with the red of death.

Amidst this never-ending war, the concept of a blooming romance was like a far-fetched dream. And there was a hint of fear. Fear of you suffering the same fate as everyone he loved.

For everyone he loved had been taken away one way or another.

It wasn't on any special day that it happened.

The air was humid and you could hear the crickets chirping outside your window. The sun was setting down the horizon slowly when Levi asked you that question.

"They died for us..." He had said, gazing out the window before shifting his form towards you.

"Would you live with me for the rest of my life?"

There was no bit of hesitation on his face but you could sense a subtle hint of fear when his voice turned heavy. Fear of what might be your answer. It wasn't a question on impulse or one of reassurance you had answered previously.

He didn't kneel before you nor did he voice out any of his feelings. It was a question, as simple as that. Yet, it was the most important he had ever asked of you.

When you didn't answer for long, he was prepared to apologize as his shoulders slumped down. But before he could conjure those words, your lips met his. It was unlike any other kisses you had shared until that day. Your lips didn't move against his, it stayed like a touch of a petal.

It was a kiss to shush him from wringing an apology (what was there to even apologize for), one to convey your answer.

He brought out a ring from his pocket. Nothing fancy, just a silver band on first inspection. In the second look, you found his initials engraved on the backside. He slid it on your finger without any further ado.

Next, he had passed you another identical ring and forwarded his hand to you. You found your initials engraved on its backside as he urged you to put it on him.

"I could only afford this." He confessed, meeting your gaze. There was a subtle disappointment lingering in his voice. He could have gotten you something more intricately crafted or one made of a more valuable metal.

You offered a soft smile, intertwining your fingers with his. The pad of his thumb rubbed circles upon your knuckles, the silver ring glinted as the sunlight reflected on it.

Only if he knew, you needed no ring for you had him by your side.

Each step towards the altar was a step-down memory lane.

Clad in a black suit, similar to the one he had worn to all the meetings in the survey corps. You always told him he looked like some nobleman wearing such an outfit.

You noticed the slight change in demeanor when he saw you walking down the aisle in your white dress and a bouquet of white lilies. He was standing before the priest; waiting for your arrival.

That caused a frown. His knee was still damaged and from the medical reports, he needed to rest it as much as possible. You remember repeatedly chiding him to use the wheelchair but his stubbornness was evident. You were sure to give him an earful after this was over.

You never took Levi as the one to want a traditional wedding ceremony. You were sure he'd want to just sign the papers in court and be done with it. That's what you thought.

Until he asked you to pick a dress and a location. Informing you he had sent word to your union to the needful people. So you did, chose a dress to your liking and the spot which held both of your memories—the survey corps headquarters.

Walking between all the guests you reached him. A lot of guests weren't present to witness this matrimony. Only his remaining squad and the queen made a graceful appearance with her daughter - Ymir. But they were your family. The very family with whom you had fought a war alongside. The ones who held witness to your laughs and tears, who had your back through thick and thin.

A family brought together by tragedy.

Levi helped you up the stairs, offering his hand which you took gratefully. Standing before him, all the doubts that plagued your mind previously faded into thin air. There were no regrets, no second guesses, no jitters, nothing except the love you held for him. Looking back, there were a lot of things he didn't say but his actions conveyed proof of those unspoken words.

Everything felt right when you looked into his eyes.

A sense of tranquillity settled on you. Your loud heartbeat seized to a comforting pace when he held your hand. Gazing at you with no bit of hesitance whatsoever. There was a ghost of a smile adorning his lips.

He never looked more beautiful than now.

====

"Grant me a wish, Levi."

"What kind?"

"To speak of your honest feelings when the right day comes."

====

You were the strongest in his eyes.

Humanity's strongest soldier, they called him. He carried loads of expectations behind his back; and carried the hopes and dreams of every soldier who gave up their life for this cause. For a chance at freedom which was so valiantly fought for till the end.

And now, he stood before you. You, the woman who stuck by his side till the end. To not keep a distance when he revealed his vulnerabilities and shared about the darkness residing in him. Quite the contrary, you closed the distance into an embrace.

Surreal to know, you were here and not some vision in the air. You were here, right before him. And this war was over. The bloodshed, the death, the conflicts, everything was over. Hence now, he decided to live. Live a life with you which you used to speak about. A normal life.

He honestly didn't know what the future held. Neither was he aware of how this decision will turn out. He never had but he knew if you were with him; he'd figure it out.

The priest's voice reached his ears.

"State your vows."

Vows. He was never vocal about his intentions. Not the one to make sweet, empty promises. But here, he wished to say something which he always meant to express.

He took a deep breath, clutching your hand tightly in his. Each syllable of your name rolled off his mouth in an agonizing slow pattern.

And after a long time, he saw tears slide down your eyes. For once, these tears were not of sorrow but of happiness. The absolute bliss to hear him speak of his feelings for you. He granted your wish on this very day.

Those words...

"I'll always be yours."

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #captain levi #aot #snk #aot x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #levi angst #levi fluff #capatain levi #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman angst #rivaille ackerman #shingeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #levi drabble

386 notes · View notes

mayfieldss · 3 months

Note

ok idk who this could be with, but fic idea: fake dating trope inspired by the song 'hate to be lame' by lizzy mcalpine and finneas... it has POTENTIAL.!!

Hate to be lame, but I might love you | Steve Harrington

BABE THIS CONCEPT IS SO </3 POTENTIAL INDEED!!! I'm gonna admit I went wayyy off track from the song and kind of just went feral with the concept of fake dating Steve.

"You're hands are sweaty."

"Yeah, well, so are yours."

"That's because my hand is covered in the sweat from your sweaty hand." your voice comes as a sharp whisper that only Steve can hear as you walk toward your friends not two days after your little agreement.

"Oh shut up."

"Why do we have to hold hands anyway?"

"Because that's what couples do, trust me I'm the expert." Steve nudges your side with his elbow, and you push back harder, making him flinch.

"Yeah, because you've had such successful past relationships." You're grumbling and acting more like a child as the regret sinks in. Why you'd agreed to this even to assist the romance between your two friends was beyond you. There were far easier ways to get the same result.

"That was a low blow." Steve sounds only slightly deflated but his energy returns as the rest of your friends begin to notice the intertwined fingers and the smiles you're sending them, that while fake, are convincing enough.

"Hey, this is new!" It's Dustin, always the first to voice an opinion, and he's eyeing the both of you as though he's Sherlock Holmes inspecting a fresh crime scene. "Is this a cute thing or a friend thing?" he's frowning, and you offer up an answer.

"Can't a friend thing be a cute thing also?"

"So it's a friend thing?" Dustin raises a brow and looks to Steve. For a second you swear they have some sort of silent and private conversation before Steve interjects with words that seem to startle the entire group surrounding you.

"No, it's not a friend thing." He moves his hand from yours, opting to drape his arm over your shoulder, making a show whilst you wipe your hand discreetly on your shorts.

"Surprise..??" the word comes strained from your lips and you are thankful for the fact that Steve is such a charmer. Whilst he's been more than a bad liar in the past he seems like a professional actor now, award-winning even as he sells your relationship to the group.

Your first kiss in his car one day after work, and first date at the small bakery down the street from your house. The way he'd been crushing on you since he saw you beat the hell out of some Demogorgons to defend the kids, and just how happy you were together. How he was so convincing you didn't know, but you almost found yourself believing him for parts of it, as if you didn't already know the truth. It was all fake, a ruse put together so that Steve could convince Robin and Nancy that he had in fact moved on. A perfectly crafted fake relationship so that Robin and Nancy could finally get together and feel guilt free.

"Well, I can't say I didn't see it coming." It's Dustin again, forever the speechmaker, and the smile on his lips is unbearably sweet. He's oblivious, it seems, and it occurs to you then that the little scheme you and Steve put together might have some negative impacts. Dustin cared about Steve in the way a little brother looks up to the older sibling, or perhaps the way a son looked up to a father, and maybe it wasn't so good for the boy to get attached to the idea of Steve finally finding some romantic peace. After all, it was nothing romantic of the sort, and whilst the game you had going wouldn't affect Dustin directly, it did seem that he was excited over the concept of you and Steve together.

Despite these thoughts, you find yourself moving an arm around Steve's waist, leaning into him as if it were real, because if you were doing this, you were sure as hell gonna do it right. Dustin smiles, somehow wider than before, before moving off to meet the other younger members of the group. Robin eyes the two of you from a distance, with something of a confused yet proud expression, and you hope that for whatever reason, she believes the show you're putting on.

When you feel Steve's breath against your ear, the shivers that run down your spine are barely controlled. "Good job." it's a whisper as he squeezes your shoulder, "I'm gonna go get us some drinks."

And with that, he walks away, leaving you to wonder how exactly this is going to work.

It goes well for the most part and soon you start to see changes in Robin and Nancy's behavior toward each other. They seem closer, more interested now that Robin's not afraid to make a move on the girl Steve had once been so hung up on.

But you can't deny that in private it has become somewhat awkward between you and Steve. Something changed over the past few weeks of pretending and you're not quite sure where it all went wrong, but the teasing relationship you'd once had was now evaporating before your eyes.

Steve currently had an arm over your shoulder as he sat beside you in the old bakery café where he had claimed you'd had your first kiss to the rest of the group. The old leather booth was supposedly filled with the fondest of memories for the both of you, though in truth you had never entered the place until today.

"You two really do make a hot couple." It's Robin leaning her elbows on the table from the booth across from you and Steve, Nancy at her side though they sit further apart.

"I second this," Nancy smiles, a wide and sweet expression that makes you really believe her. And suddenly you feel bad for lying to them both.

"Here," Before you can dwell on the feeling, Nancy's pulled out an old camera, one she was gifted by Jonathan back when they were something of a pair themselves. She still keeps it close, and she'd planned to use it for some journalism work later in the day, but it seems she's willing to waste some of the camera's potential now.

"Smile you two." She's peering into the camera, and instinctively you lean into Steve, smiling for the shot. But that doesn't seem to appease either Robin or the eldest Wheeler sibling, both of them scheming to create the best memories for you both.

"C'mon Steve," Robin instructs, "Give her a kiss for the camera." Steve does so hesitantly, pressing a short peck to your cheek and waiting for the camera to click, but nothing happens.

When he looks up he finds both Nancy and Robin chuckling before Nancy herself begins to speak. "Look, Steve, I know you're trying to be polite because, well, we used to be something—but I really don't mind if you two kiss. I'm happy for you both, and I assure you I've moved on." She spares a glance to Robin and it would have been sweet if you weren't panicking deep inside. You had yet to kiss Steve at all and the plan had been that you would never have to but now that your excuse seemed to be up in flames you weren't sure what to do, or say.

Steve didn't seem at all bothered, and maybe that should have concerned you more than it did, but honestly, you were grateful for the confidence he held when yours was nowhere to be found.

"Yeah, you're right. We didn't want to cause any drama with, you know," Steve gestures between himself and you, "Us."

"But that's the thing!" Nancy exclaims in a rather Robin-like fashion. (Perhaps the girl was rubbing off on her a little too much.) "I'm happy for you, and I really don't mind." She raises the camera again, a smile tugging at her lips as Robin shuffles a little closer to peak through the lens with her. "Do some cute couple shit for the camera. You may kiss your girlfriend." Robin says, and a nervous laugh escapes you as Steve locks his eyes with yours. it's a look that speaks,'You really wanna do this?' and 'We can back out now if you want.' all at once, but there's something else there that you can't quite decode.

You nod in response to his silent question, however, and it takes a moment before either of you can get up the guts to do anything at all. Steve leans in first, slow and steady, and you know he notices the breath that catches in your throat. His lips so close, his hair just barely brushing your forehead as he moves downward, his face inching ever closer to yours. But he stops, and it seems as if time itself does too, when Mike Wheeler bursts into the bakery, tall frame and skinny limps carrying him through the door and toward the booth at which the four of you sit.

"Nancy, god it took forever to find you! Mom's going crazy over dinner tonight and—" It all seems to fade off. Mike is still talking but you block him out, a ringing in your ears replacing his words as you wonder what could have happened had a few more seconds passed before the boys' arrival.

Either way, it would have meant nothing, because you don't like Steve like that, and you never will. Right?

Steve is sitting, brows furrowed beside you, staring at your figure as you watch Mike Wheeler ramble on about something Nancy needs to come home for. You don't seem to be listening and he doesn't blame you because honestly, he doesn't know if he is either, but he wonders what you are thinking about.

He's certainly thinking about things he shouldn't be.

But soon Nancy stands, and Robin follows suit and they say something that the both of you ignore. And they leave, as you wave them goodbye, and they say they'll be in touch. All of a sudden you're sat next to Steve, alone with a chocolate chip muffin between you.

"That was a close one don't you think?" It's you who says it and your voice startles Steve. You see him jump, and then adjust himself to sit like the cool high school heartthrob he had once been.

"Real close, sorry." the apology is genuine, and Steve pauses, looking around the bakery. "You wanna get out of here?"

You manage a nod, shuffling from the booth awkwardly. "Let's go."

"Did you want me to drop you home?" Steve's leaning on the side of his car as he watches you, waiting. He looks so different somehow, changed from the teenager you would sit next to in the chemistry lab. He hadn't spoken to you much at all back then, and you would do all the hard work for the passing grades, but now he seems....lost.

You suppose fighting interdimensional monsters can do that to a person. That kind of thing changes a perspective for sure, and the look in his eyes can be thrown down to such a concept.

"Sure," you go to say more, but decide against it as Steve moves around the car to open the passenger side door for you. The kind of thing you had yet to experience for a long time. When he gets behind the wheel he's focused, staring out the windshield.

"So, I'll drop you home." it's awkward, unsure and it's hard to find a response.

"Well, I don't know what else we're supposed to do."

Steve clears his throat, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "We could go to work—your work I mean, show off a little to the kid at the checkout. The one you have a crush on."

"He's literally the same age as us Steve. Stop calling him a kid." with your arms folded over your chest you watch Steve for a reaction, and he gives you one. His nose wrinkles up, turning to face you.

"He looks like a kid."

"He does not!" there's a laugh hidden behind your words, and Steve smiles, just a little. It's a nice thing to see.

"He has a babyface, he's got the smooth face of a baby."

"Like you're one to talk Harrington," you reach over, running a hand across his cheek. "You've got nothing on this face of yours."

Steve isn't nervous. He's not. The feeling of your skin on his, the warmth of your hand on his face has no effect on his heart rate. His heart beats this fast all the time. "I'll have you know that I've got a moustache coming in."

You pull back, buckling yourself into your seat. "That stubble on your upper lip doesn't count for shit Steve, don't give yourself a big head."

"Alright, well am I taking you home or what?" He wants to hide the grin on his lips, though he can't seem to put it away. It's stuck, the expression seemingly permanent. You're smiling too, and when you look over at him, his hands on the wheel and yours in your lap, it's all over.

"Let's go give babyface a run for his money."

It doesn't work out like it's supposed to, and as you walk into the store, out of uniform and entirely out of character, your confidence fades. "This was a bad idea." you mumble the words to Steve, who stands beside you, waiting to make a minor scene.

He looks down at you, peculiar frown pulling at his brows. "It's a great idea. Just making a little chaos, that's all." he doesn't sound like himself either, and in truth, his eyes are now scanning around the store, waiting for your target to show.

"Let's just go, Steve. It's dumb—this is dumb." before you can say anything more Steve's got his arm sliding softly around your waist, pulling you just that bit closer to his side. You don't flinch at the touch, the touch of a friend acting as though they're more. You should think more of it, feel more uncomfortable than you do, but you don't. You see your coworker approaching, apron over his regular uniform. You don't think you'd ever had a crush on him in the first place, despite what Steve had persisted, and even though the guy is cute, it doesn't seem to mean anything. Looking up at Steve is a struggle, and when you do you find his eyes still locked on the fated supermarket employee.

"Steve," muttering his name brings his eyes back to yours, and his gaze looks slightly different than it did before. "Let's get out of here."

"You sure?" the question hangs in the words, but something in him sounds relieved at the concept, as if all of a sudden this doesn't matter to him either. But he doesn't have a second to lead you away from the store before something else seems to enter the equation. Someone else.

"Hey, didn't expect to see you here." it's your coworker 'crush' standing before you with a strained grin. "It's your day off." He's says it in a way that suggests he's reminding you, in case you've forgotten. You don't miss the way his eyes flicker to Steve, and in particular, Steve's arm, still around your waist, his hand placed so convincingly as his fingers press affectionately into your side.

"Yeah, just came in to get some things." you smile back at the boy genuinely, as Steve buts into the conversation.

"Just some snacks...for date night." he's playing his part still, you realize, even if you weren't.

"Date night? You two are—I didn't see that coming." you think you must have imagined it, the deflated falter in your friends words. He didn't like you, he couldn't. He wouldn't. He was hardly a friend anyway, just the guy behind the checkout that you would wave and smile to during the work day. You couldn't possibly be hurting him with this, could you?

Steve squeezes you closer to his side, and it seems to be going a little too far. You're not sure if he does it just to get under the skin of the guy in front of you, or if he's trying to tell you something along the lines of "it's working."

You hope it's none of the above.

"Well, we should get going." diffusing the situation is all you can think to do, but now leaving isn't an option. If you don't exit the store with the so called 'snacks' you came in for, it might just mix things up further. You grab Steve by the hand, pulling him toward the candy aisle, sending your seemingly heartbroken coworker a sympathetic goodbye smile.

Once out of sight and snooping range, you give up the act. "Steve, this has to stop."

"What no, Nancy and Robin—they've just started connecting." Steve sounds disappointed, grasping for something to hold on to.

"There are other ways we can play matchmaker with them, but this...it's going too far. I can't do it." the way your eyes plead with Steve to end things, sends shivers across his spine. He feels the sting of your words as if it's all real, but of course it never was.

"So, we're breaking up?" he mumbles, trying not to let the words remind him of the familiar heartbreaks he's had before.

"Don't say it like that," there's a gentle laugh from your lips, soft, calmer than you were before. "That makes it sound like we were really a thing."

That cuts Steve deep. He can't help it, and his mind wanders to the feeling of your hand still holding his. He doesn't think you know that you're still doing it, so he squeezes your hand with his own, testing the waters. You let go.

You'd been Steve's fake girlfriend for over a month, and now suddenly, standing amongst bags of chocolate and sweets, you weren't anymore.

"So, just friends again?" You extend a hand as if to shake on the deal, and Steve accepts, though this time there is no affection in the way his hand holds yours.

"Friends." He confirms, and it really is over.

You don't let on to your friends directly that you'd split apart. Maybe due to the hopes that Robin and Nancy could make their own way a little faster whilst they were still under the impression of you and Steve in love. But you no longer hold hands in public, and you don't follow each other around like lost dogs.

It's weird, knowing that Steve isn't trailing behind you like he used to, and it's odd not having his car pull up in your driveway every day. You were so used to him surrounding you after the few months of being his partner in crime, that the distance from him has set up an ache in your heart.

Steve feels similarly, and the way the man goes about his days now are less interesting, and far less fun. Dustin caught on almost immediately, and despite the deal Steve made with you to never tell a soul in the group about your little agreement, he can't help but tell the young boy everything.

"So what you're saying is you never dated in the first place?" Dustin questions, Steve nodding.

"Yeah."

"But you think you might have fallen in love with her for real?"

Hearing Dustin say it out loud sends a pang of longing through Steve and he knows then that he most definitely has fallen head over heels for someone he was never supposed to love in the first place.

"Yeah. That sounds about right."

"Dude," Dustin has a grin on his lips and Steve can tell he's about to made fun of before it happens. "You are so lame. Honestly, can you just admit to yourself that you had a crush on her from the start? It was never fake to you, was it?" The kid is smart, and can see right through his older friend. He held no surprise when Steve told him the truth, because he found it quite obvious how Steve truly felt. It was why Steve's stories about how he fell in love with you felt so real to the group in the first place. Because they were the furthest thing from fake.

Steve doesn't respond, thinking it over. Dustin is right he realizes, and it's not surprising at all.

"You gotta tell her, man." Dustin speaks again, and Steve nods.

"Yeah. I know."

Two days later and Mike has invited everyone over, including the older kids, to spend the day together. It gives you Deja vu as you enter the house, having been to a similar hangout with Steve months before when you first introduced yourselves as a couple. Now you walk in alone, no sweaty hand to hold.

Steve's heart skips a beat when he sees you, and Dustin nudges him hard with his shoulder, as if Steve hasn't already been alerted of your presence. He thinks you look beautiful, but he always does. He realizes these things now. Now that he knows how he feels.

"Hey," Steve stands to greet you and you offer him a friendly smile back.

"Hey, Steve." It's still awkward between you, and has been ever since the fake breakup. Perhaps that's due to the fact you've both been avoiding each other like the plague since it happened.

"I need to talk to you about something later, is that okay?" He keeps his voice low, not wanting the others to hear about the private matters he wants to discuss. He can tell he's confusing you, but you agree thanks to his puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah, okay." Despite your agreeance, you plan to avoid Steve for the rest of the day, solely due to the fact you've begun to feel things that you shouldn't be. You were so used to being his friend, and seeing him as one, but now your thoughts have begun to linger on him more than they should, as do your eyes.

You can't help but admire the way he is with the kids, and the way his hands comb through his hair casually as if he doesn't know just how appealing it makes him. You focus a little too much on whether he's looking at you or not, and the sound of his laugh is too familiar now.

He was your friend, and whilst you'd promised he would stay that way, you weren't so sure you could keep it.

"Hey," Steve has caught you in the kitchen, going to get more soda for the party after a long day of avoidance. You'd hoped to spend a few minutes alone, and most of all, had hoped to keep evading him, but Steve had other plans.

You place the sodas on the counter, closing the fridge with caution. "It sure is hot today." You mumble in the hopes of keeping the conversation light. You know he's here to confront you about the distance you've been keeping from him. It can't be anything else.

"Yeah, it's summer." He feels bad about cornering you in the kitchen, but he knows this might be one of the only chances he has at asking you how you feel. Even with what Dustin had said, Steve doesn't know if he can bring himself to tell you what's been going on inside his head over the past couple of months, but he hopes you'll be willing to tell him what's been happening in yours.

"Are you okay?" even though you saw it coming, Steve's question still startles you.

You nod, though your voice involuntarily raises an octave. "Yeah, I'm fine. How are you?" You're not fine, and the lie is clear, but Steve is more than honest with you.

"I'm tired of us acting like we haven't fucked up our relationship." He leans against the counter in a kind of defeated gesture, weakening your resolve. "I don't want to keep fighting to be around you. I want you to feel comfortable around me again. Call me an idiot, a loser or something, like you used to."

"I can't." your whisper seems so loud in your own ears.

"I promise I'll call you pretentious and dramatic right back, just say it. Call me a name, make it how it used to be." there's a kind of desperation hidden within Steve's words, one you haven't heard before. One you doubt anyone has heard before. It stands in the silence, for your ears alone.

"You really want me to list all the shit I hate about you?" There's a shake to your voice, as if you're close to screaming or crying, but you're not sure which will come first.

"Well, I didn't say that—"

"I hate your stupid hair. Your teeth are too straight, and I don't like the way you talk to me, how your voice gets all soft and sweet. It's irritating when you smile because it makes me smile too, and you're laugh just—it just pisses me off." You stop for breath, sucking in the air as you focus on the boy in front of you. You've taken a few steps toward him with your words spoken, slow, and steady. "And I hate the fact you made me like you. I hate the way you're so unhateable to everyone around you, including me."

There's a small twitch of Steve's lips, and you can tell they want to pull upwards into the smile you just claimed to despise. He doesn't let them though, pushing himself back from the counter. "You wanna know what I hate about you?"

Your heart leaps into your throat but you don't show any sign of response, staring at him with as much blankness as you can muster.

"Absolutely everything, and nothing at all." He says it quietly. He doesn't need volume to get his point across. He's taken the steps needed to close the gap between you, and he's waiting for your approval. "In fact, I think I could love you, if you'll let me."

You let out a breath, somewhere between relief and excitement. "You're so lame, Harrington."

"You know you love it." he leans in closer, and you do the same, lips brushing against his.

"You know, I think I could love you too, if you'll let me of course." you allow yourself a grin at the sight of one on Steve's own lips, contagious as always.

"I think we could come to an arrangement." He's fucking with you, but you're too impatient to respond with anything but a kiss, gentle and sweet to his lips. You're not the first person to kiss Steve Harrington, but Steve thinks you might be the best.

"Come on, the others are waiting." You pick up the sodas left on the counter and push past Steve with the widest smile you've held in weeks, and Steve follows close behind.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST: @buckys2thicc @browneyes528

453 notes · View notes