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sundrop-writes · 2 months

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Careful - Chapter Two

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Two: Liar

Why should I deny what's all at once, so crystal clear?

Summary:

Spencer is eager to talk to you - to find out if your son is actually his. But there are more important matters at hand, like the fact that you might be the next target of a serial killer who is actively stalking single mothers.

The two of you get locked in a battle of wills when you stubbornly refuse his protection and Spencer remains determined to keep you safe.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst and Smut.

Word Count: 8,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: again, general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of killing/murder, mentions of the reader being a target for a killer; mentions of the reader buying and using a vibrator (does not take place during the fic, more so mentioned as the reality of the ‘sex life’ of a single mom); the reader and Spencer parted on very bad terms (but the details of the situation are not yet revealed); the reader is very angry towards Spencer; the reader and Spencer argue; the reader is in denial that she is the target of a killer; there is some mention of Sebastian having similar hair to Spencer - but I don’t want that to describe or exclude the reader’s race because in the next chapter, there is a mention of Sebastian having the reader’s skin tone; mention of the reader ‘shoving’ Spencer out of anger (not hard enough to cause harm); mention of the reader owning a gun (registered with gun training) as a form of self defense; mention of the reader character celebrating a birthday - but there is no mentions of specific dates or months when the fic is set, so you can easily imagine that this takes place around your birthday (aside from mentions of holidays or seasonal weather); mentions of JJ x Will; JJ talks about her trauma regarding dogs after being attacked in 2x15; this ends in another flashback, this time including flashback sex (smut); Spencer cuts off foreplay to give the reader a birthday present - mentions of heated kissing and some groping; Spencer calls the reader ‘Princess’ (not during sex - in the context of ‘I am here to serve you like royalty’); the smut basically consists of Spencer eating the reader out. And I think that’s it for this chapter.

A/N: Okay so something I did not intend to happen - a lot of this chapter is from JJ's perspective. It just naturally started happening while I was writing it, and it was really interesting to me to write about Spencer and the reader's relationship through her eyes (especially to keep the conflict between them vague to the audience, because JJ doesn't know the details of what happened), and it's not something I did intentionally, but I really loved how it shaped the chapter, so I kept it in. Also, I really wanted to include a lot of JJ x Spencer friendship and comfort moments in the fic because (as a lot of people in the fandom have discussed) - the writers love to have the characters say that JJ and Spencer are best friends, but they don't often show it. They just show a lot of conflict between them. So I wanted to show the potential of their friendship. And I had a lot of fun exploring that. So - I hope you guys enjoy the second chapter, and definitely hope to see you come back for chapter three!!!

...

When you heard someone knock on your door, you thought it was a delivery.

You had ordered Sebastian some new educational coloring books, and some new CDs with Mozart concertos to fall asleep to, because he was getting bored of his current ones. You often felt like you couldn’t keep up with him - Sebastian was so damn smart, and you always tried to provide him with the best resources to learn. Even if he was getting to a point where he was asking for high school level chemistry text books and actually seemed to understand the material in them and you were confused about how he could comprehend any of it.

The package also could have been the new vibrator you had ordered. You weren’t sure if that package was small enough to be left in the mailbox or not. You had to roll your eyes when you thought about how pathetic your sex life had been since having Sebastian. But you couldn’t risk bringing random men through the house just for sex when you had Seb around. So battery power and smut novels, it was.

“Sorry!”

You called out, hoping the delivery person would wait, as you raced to get to the door. You hoped they wouldn’t just slip one of those ‘failed to deliver’ notes into your door handle and force you to run an extra errand with a kid under your arm. You tripped over a toy truck and cursed yourself for procrastinating cleaning up (again).

“Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-”

‘I was in my office, in the back of the house.’

The sentence died off on your tongue when you finally fumbled the door open - your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him.

Spencer Reid.

The father of your child, the man you had once loved.

Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion.

Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief.

Shock.

You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here?

Was he here because of Sebastian? Was he angry? He had to be angry that you hadn’t told him about Sebastian for all of these years. He had to be angry that you had given birth to his child and not told him about it.

You flickered back to lust for a moment as your eyes traced over him.

He looked good.

Somehow, he had grown up so much in just four years. He had gone from a gangly, boyish man to a full blown man. But he was somehow still so much the same. His hair had grown out a lot since you had last seen him - instead of the neatly combed, short cut you had last seen him with, it was downright wild. The chocolate brown locks were sprawling out into the thick curls that you had come to see sprouting from your own son’s head. It wasn’t a look that you were used to on Spencer, but it looked damn good on him.

He was wearing his usual leather messenger bag - probably the exact same one from years ago. And he clearly had the same dress sense, but these clothes in particular made you want to jump his bones. A lavender cardigan that complimented his skin tone so well - and his usual button up shirt and tie, along with his usual gray slacks.

You desperately wanted to blame the sting of attraction that you felt for him on the recent lack of male suitors in your life; the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. But you knew it was something else, too. Your previous attraction to him - the fact that because you had slept with Spencer before, you could still feel the ghost of his hands and tongue on your body.

How did he look so good?

He made you feel like a slob in your casual ‘work from home on a random Tuesday’ Mom clothes. If it had been your choice, he definitely wouldn’t be seeing you for the first time in years while you were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that you were sure had raspberry juice stained on it somewhere, and eyeliner that you had slopped in between traffic lights in the car that morning.

(You hated it.)

“Y/N,”

He finally broke the silence, speaking your name in that honey-sweet way.

Unfortunately, it brought you rocketing back to that night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over.

This chased out that tiny splash of lust and brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions.

Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. More longing. Regret.

Like your brain was a spin wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage.

And that was when you finally spoke.

“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom, your neck aching as the blood pumped hard through your aorta.

Immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and fear took over his face.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked fiercely, this question rocketing back to the forefront of your mind.

Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that suddenly, you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say.

You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch. Without even thinking, you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You screeched.

You let your emotions carry your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was resentment and heartache that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time.

“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You screamed. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?”

You gave him another hard shove. Perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, even you weren’t sure.

Spencer just looked at you with wide-eyed shock. Clearly, for once in his life, at a loss for words.

“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat.

“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out.

“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.”

You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless.

He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception.

The two of you became locked in an icy staring contest, neither of you speaking. Spencer found his throat too dry, and for once, his head far too empty. You were simply too angry and too stubborn to speak in those moments.

This stalemate was only broken up when JJ walked around the corner.

“Spence, Hotch just told me that the first woman doesn’t even match the-”

“JJ!” You cried out her name happily, your entire demeanor changing when you saw her.

She grinned, completely forgetting whatever news she had to report to Reid as you practically flew off the porch and ran to meet her. JJ eagerly opened her arms to hug you, and you squeezed her with all the warmth and kindness of an old friend.

Spencer felt a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t being greeted with as much affection. He knew that the last argument between the two of you had been bad, but he didn’t know it had left such a distinct impression on you. He didn’t know it had been enough to make you hate him.

When you pulled away from JJ, you looked between her and Spencer, and then it suddenly struck you.

If Spencer wasn’t here alone, that meant this wasn’t personal. He wasn’t just here to see you over some lost love, or - maybe he didn’t know about Sebastian at all. You felt a pang of guilt twist your gut because of that.

“What - what are you guys doing here?” You asked, now entirely confused, directing the question toward JJ.

JJ looked toward Spencer, and according to his ill-concealed frown, his reunion with you had not gone well. She doubted that you would take the news that you were possibly being hunted by a killer well on top of that.

“Is it alright if we come inside?” JJ asked, her voice tentative and soft. It was the same voice she usually used with victims and their families.

“Yeah.” You said, knowing there must be something big that you were missing, and hoping that you would be filled in soon enough. “I’ll put some coffee on.”

You walked back up the few steps of the porch and breezed right past Reid. You didn’t even spare a glance in his direction as you went back in through the open front door, leaving it open for the two of them with the expectation that they would close it behind themselves.

“So - I take it things didn’t go well?” JJ whispered to Spencer as she moved up onto the porch.

“Not quite.” Spencer mumbled in return before moving into the house, waiting for her to follow.

This made JJ even more curious about what had gone down between you and Spencer all those years ago.

What could have possibly made you so cold and distant toward him?

But she couldn’t just come out and ask. They had a job to do. They were there to ensure your safety against a man who had already killed five women and orphaned five children.

JJ walked into the house and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t surprised that she nearly tripped over a plastic toy truck in the entryway. Even though your son didn’t seem to be here (it was far too quiet for a small boy to be around), this was definitely a house where a child lived.

The first space that was visible to her eye - the living room, was clearly a space that belonged to a young child. There was a large, colorful play mat underneath the coffee table, and a few toys scattered over across the floor, showing that he clearly liked to have hands on play. In the corner, there was a child-sized desk with a small chair, which seemed to be surrounded by art supplies, and advanced textbooks? Some of them opened and were dotted with bright, colorful stickers. One glance told JJ that the reading material very advanced for his age clearly belonged to him.

So he very likely was Spencer’s son.

She wasn’t sure why, but that did bring a cluster of joy through her. Likely because she knew he would be so excited to have a child of his own.

JJ couldn’t help but to notice that many of the toys were Paw Patrol themed - it was a favorite show of Henry’s, too. In the back of her mind, she wondered if your son and Henry might be friends.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You huffed, rushing around with your arms half full of toys now - distracted from getting the coffee, as you had mentioned. You were clearly rushing to pick up some of the mess now that you had realized how it appeared in the eyes of your ‘guests’. “All the - stuff.”

You hesitated to say ‘toys’. Clearly, you didn’t want to bring up the subject of your son, even though the evidence of him was so visible all around. You didn’t want to give Spencer the smallest opening to start asking questions about him. It was something you wanted to avoid speaking about for as long as possible.

Spencer looked at you with a mournful look on his face as you dodged around him, purposefully avoiding eye contact while you picked up a coloring book and a handful of crayons off the couch. You still refused to look his way at all as you rushed off to stash the items away somewhere.

Clearly, he wanted to ask you more about your son, and simply ask that penultimate question: was he the father?

But now wasn’t the right time.

“It’s alright.” JJ assured you. “You can just come sit down. We really need to talk to you.”

You heaved out a sigh, defeated in your effort to clean up, and then came back from one of the other rooms. (JJ could only assume you had stashed the toys in a playroom or a closet, because much like her own home, all areas had become a domain for toys and playtime). You motioned for them to sit on the couch, and you scooted over a rocking chair from the other side of the room to sit in front of them, blocking the shut-off TV on the other side.

“So, what is it?” You asked, clearly eager and curious to know what they were doing in your home - why they had contacted you now after so many years apart.

JJ and Spencer exchanged a look, and with a gentle nod from him, JJ took the lead.

“Well, um… there’s no easy way to say this, but we believe that you might be in danger.” She told you, introducing the topic gently, while wanting to be honest and direct. “Perhaps you’ve seen it on the news? But if you haven’t… several single mothers have been killed in the area recently, and we have reason to believe that you might be the killer’s next target.”

You looked at her, entirely observant, quietly taking in her words. Your face was still and expressionless, and JJ was unsure if you were going to take this calmly and logically - if you were going to panic after you had fully absorbed the news, if you were going to cry.

After a moment of silence - you burst out laughing. Your laughter was harsh and nervous, a sound that cut through the air like the rip of a chainsaw. Clearly, it was the stark opposite of someone taking the news with tears.

“Oh my god.” You sighed, taking a breath from the non-humorous laughter. “You know that you didn’t have to make up some excuse just to come and see me, right?”

Spencer’s face curled into a deep frown. He was upset that you weren’t taking this seriously. JJ found herself in shock. Usually when people found out they were potentially on the radar of a killer, they were paranoid, afraid, questioning why.

But it was very rare to see denial.

She did take notice of the fact that you didn’t immediately ask about what kind of evidence or reasoning they had to believe that you were the killer’s next target. Perhaps if your brain let you assess that reasoning for yourself and found it to be valid, then fear would take over. And you couldn’t let that happen. So this laughter, this posturing and not taking things seriously - it was an unconscious way to protect yourself from that fear.

But JJ could only theorize about that.

“I did miss you, JJ.” You said, very pointedly looking at her while you said it. “But you could have just sent me an email or something.”

You continued avoiding Spencer’s harsh gaze as he bored holes into the side of your face with his intense, intrusive eyes.

“Look, this is serious-” Spencer began, and you cut him off.

“Okay.” You shrugged. “Let’s say for argument’s sake that there is someone trying to kill me,”

You spoke of this lightly, the words entirely condescending on your lips, as though Spencer’s theory was entirely wild and imaginative to begin with.

JJ saw the movement in his jaw as he grinded his teeth out of the corner of her eye, and she was surprised that he let you continue.

“I have an alarm system that I set every night before I go to bed.” You informed them. “I am a proud gun owner. I have a registered revolver that I keep in a lock box beside my bed and I renew my gun training every single spring.” You told them, not seeming the least bit worried at the idea of a killer hunting you down. “If someone wants to kill me, let them try. I’m sure you guys have much better ways to spend your time than sitting around here, chatting with me when there are people out there, actually in danger. People who probably need your help.”

You said this, trying to dismiss them. And then you moved to get up from your seat, looking to escape the conversation entirely. But once again, Spencer stopped you.

“That’s it?” He fired back, entirely indignant, standing from his place on the couch.

This caused you to roll your eyes and let out a hiss, your lungs deflating like an annoyed balloon as you paused in the middle of the room.

“Yes, that’s it.” You groaned back. “Look, I know it’s your job to see problems everywhere, but-”

“It’s my job to protect people.” Spencer replied, cutting you off. “And-”

“Funny!” You scoffed, your voice escalating in volume. It had turned into a full-blown argument now - you were entirely uncaring that JJ was there to witness it; Spencer was locked in your sight like the crosshairs of a scope, and you were ready to fire. “You give a shit about ‘protecting’ me now, but what the fuck happened four years ago?”

You glared harshly at Spencer, and he locked his jaw, staring right back. It turned into a poisonous silence as neither of you spoke - he didn’t have a good answer for this question. And it made JJ all the more horribly curious about what had happened between the two of you. But she didn’t need to be a psychic to sense that the two of you needed some privacy.

“Do… do you mind if I go get myself a glass of water?” She asked, tentatively standing up from her place on the couch.

“I’ll get it.” You huffed out, moving to leave the room.

“It’s okay.” JJ told you. “I can get it for myself. Just point me in the right direction.”

You motioned toward the kitchen and JJ left, and she heard Spencer hiss out something about you being stubborn, which turned into another cluster of voices. The argument turned even more personal and sour now that the both of you didn’t have a witness.

When JJ made her way into the kitchen, she was happy to see that your backyard was full of toys. A pair of sliding glass doors let her peek out to see a colorful swing set and a large playhouse, and a scattering of other toys meant that your son obviously spent a lot of time outside. She smiled to herself, trying to ignore the rising, angered sound of voices from the other room as she found a glass in one of the cabinets. When she moved to the refrigerator’s water dispenser, something along the way caught her eye.

A vase of fresh flowers was sitting on the counter.

White carnations.

It made her stomach churn ominously. It felt too perfect to be a coincidence.

She abandoned her half-full glass and grabbed the vase, walking back to the living room with it.

“You just can’t accept help from anybody, can you? How can you not understand that your life is in danger here? This man is not going to stop until-” Spencer ranted on.

He was still trying to convince you to take the threat seriously - but you were still boiling with rage over the past, blind to anything else.

“I can’t accept anyone’s help?” You scoffed, crowding into his personal space to hiss the words closer to him. “That is so rich coming from someone who-”

JJ cleared her throat loudly, cutting you off.

“Spence.” She got his attention from the intense gaze he was keeping on you - anger hot in his eyes even though he was staring heavily at your lips.

When Spencer looked over and saw the vase in JJ’s hands, his entire face shifted in a blink. His expression went from tight-knit anger and annoyance to ‘shit-your-pants’ worry. The danger went from being theoretical to being very real in that moment.

“Where did these flowers come from?” Spencer asked.

“What?” You gaped, so entirely confused.

“Where did you get the flowers?” He asked, rephrasing the question, his tone more urgent and demanding now.

“Why does that matter?” You replied, exasperated. You didn’t see how it was at all relevant.

“All of the women who were killed received these exact same kind of flowers within days of their death.” JJ told you. “Do you have any idea who sent them?”

“I thought my mother did.” You shrugged. “There was no name on the card. It just said ‘Happy Birthday’. She didn’t get to see me in person for my birthday, she’s traveling right now. She’s one of the only people who would send me flowers for my birthday.”

“Yes, but your mother knows that your favorite flowers are lavender and baby’s breath. Why would she send these?” Spencer replied.

Naturally, he remembered your favorite flowers.

You couldn’t get stuck on that, though. Instead, you pondered the question he posed.

Why would your mother send you white carnations without even signing the card?

It wasn’t something you had thought about. At the time, you had just thought it was considerate, and sweet. When you had called her to thank her for the flowers, you had gotten her voicemail. You had left her a message thanking her. She was away on a singles cruise with shoddy reception and she hadn’t gotten back to you yet.

“They’re just flowers.” You said, letting out another nervous chuckle - but your voice broke over this one.

Obviously the reality of things was truly starting to set in with you.

“We need to set up protective custody for you.” Spencer said, taking out his phone in order to get this done.

“No!” You snapped. “I am not having some random cops follow me around because you think I might be in danger.” You hissed angrily.

Spencer paused and stared you down, debating if he was going to go against your wishes or not, his phone still in hand.

JJ hated the look in Spencer’s eyes. That deep, bitter fear. Whatever had happened between the two of you, there was still enough care lingering there that he would fight for you no matter what. He was terrified for you. He wasn’t going to let you meet the same fate as the other victims. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go.

JJ put the vase down on the coffee table, and turned to you.

“It doesn’t have to be random cops. We can stay with you, in order to-” She started to explain, only to be disrupted by the digital ringtone of your home phone echoing through the house.

You rushed to grab the phone, and JJ heard some of the quiet conversation from you on one end.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there soon. It’s no problem. Thank you so much. Yeah, twenty minutes. Bye.”

You hung up and then rushed back into the living room - and before either of them could speak further on the matter, you rushed past them. You went to the entryway, taking off your slippers to exchange them for sneakers.

“Look, guys, I would love to stay and hang out, but I have somewhere important to be.” You huffed out.

“Seriously?” Spencer replied, entirely frustrated with you. “This isn’t some tea party. We aren’t just hanging around here for fun. Call whoever that was and tell them that you’re gonna be late. Or call and cancel, or-”

“No!” You yelled back, entirely frustrated with him. “Dammit, Spencer! People have responsibilities, you know! I have responsibilities. I am an adult, I’m not some child you can talk down to. Now get the fuck out of my house so I can lock up, and get to the important things that I have to do. Things that don’t involve wasting my time talking to you.”

You said the last part so snidely, resenting that Spencer’s unexpected visit had been part of your day.

He opened his mouth to argue against this, but JJ put a gentle hand on his shoulder, nudging him toward the door. He sighed and flexed to this movement. He angrily stormed past you to leave through the front door, which he left wide open like a toddler having a tantrum.

You grabbed your keys and your purse from a side table near the door and JJ moved to leave as well. On her way along, she put a gentle hand on your shoulder, capturing your attention.

“We’ll check back in with you later, okay?” She said, using her most gentle, non-confrontational voice.

“Sure.” You easily agreed, unable to be angry with her. “But just call, or something. There’s no need to bang down my door over some stupid flowers. It’s nothing.”

She stepped through the door and you followed. As you used your keys to lock up, you added on:

“I would give you my number, but I’m sure Penelope can find it for you in five minutes flat.”

JJ chuckled at this.

“More like two and a half, I’d say.” She replied - it was a joking tone, but she did truly think this highly of Penelope’s skills.

You smiled over your shoulder at her and she nodded before she began to walk back to the car, where Spencer was already sitting in the passenger’s seat, stewing in his anger.

When she got in beside him, they watched you pull out of the driveway and drive off before either of them spoke.

“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips.

“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply, tired.

In order to distract himself from all of it, he was staring down at some files in his lap - some of the case files of the other murders that he had pulled out of his bag. He needed something to do to keep his mind from churning more on the fact that you seemed to hate him. He wanted to find a way to protect you now, instead of focusing on the past.

But JJ seemed hellbent on walking backward - getting him to look back on what happened between the two of you.

“I can do complicated.” She said. “We’ve got plenty of time. We should just sit here and wait for her to come back.”

“You should go check in with Hotch.” Spencer told her, dodging around the question once again. “I’ll come back after.”

“After what?” JJ questioned, finding this wording particularly strange.

JJ started the car and pulled away, hoping that you would be safe during the time they didn’t have eyes on you. The UnSub had a particular routine - he liked to stalk his victims for a few weeks before he broke into their homes and killed them. So she hoped that he wasn’t ready to make contact with you yet. She hoped that if he did, your gun and your alarm system would be enough to deter him.

“I - I wanted to get her something nice.” He answered, sounding rather shy about this proclamation. “Like she mentioned, her birthday just passed. And, according to the preschool forms, her son’s birthday was a week ago. I want to get something for him too.”

“They have the same birthday?” JJ asked.

“Not exactly the same, but their birthdays are only five days apart.” Spencer replied. “I missed his birth.” He added on, a quiet sigh, entirely melancholic. “I missed the whole pregnancy. I - I missed everything.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.” JJ reminded him. “What happened?”

Spencer knew she was asking as a friend. He knew that of all people - she was the one to talk to about this.

“It - it was right after Hankel.” He admitted quietly. “That was when Y/N and I broke up.”

“Oh.” JJ said quietly.

The air in the car became thick as the heaviness truly overtook her.

So, it was complicated.

But she definitely couldn’t understand your rage toward Spencer.

“When I came back from Atlanta, she knew I wasn’t the same. And things - we - we fell apart.” He admitted this barely above a whisper, hesitant to even voice the words as a reality. “You knew what kind of person I was back then. I wasn’t good to her. I wasn’t good to anybody.”

Spencer let out a harsh chuckle - a defense to all the hurt he was feeling about it.

JJ spotted a sign for a shopping center, and pulled into the parking lot. She knew that Spencer likely had a good idea about buying into your good graces with a late birthday gift. Even if it wouldn’t instantly make up for everything that had happened all those years ago.

“Yeah, but you’re sober now.” She reminded him.

“She doesn’t know that.” Spencer replied.

JJ ruminated in thought for a moment.

“You know, I met Will afterwards, right?” She said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Spencer nodded.

“It was only a few weeks after everything happened, when we were working that case in New Orleans.” She explained. “And he looked at me like I was a hero. Because I helped him finish what his father couldn’t. He didn’t look at me like I was fragile or broken. He didn’t tip-toe around me. He didn’t see me as some ghost. And that is part of the reason why I fell for him. He always saw me as this goddess. Like Superwoman.”

Spencer smiled at this.

He wanted to be that person for you. He wanted to be your Superman. (But he feared that he couldn’t live up to that. That he would fail you when the time came.)

JJ found a parking spot, and parked, but Spencer lingered - sensing there was more to the conversation.

“You know… Henry wants a puppy.” JJ’s voice shook, her throat clenching up around these words.

Spencer’s stomach shook.

He hadn’t been there, but he had seen the scars on JJ’s arms. He had seen the footage of the other poor woman being torn apart by those dogs.

“And I had to tell Will everything. How I was chased down, how I had to shoot two innocent animals - the stupid fact that I still feel guilty about it, even though they would have killed me if I hadn’t done it.” She said, her throat becoming more closed off with each word. She cleared it before she spoke again. “How I lost you, how it was all my fault.”

“What happened to me wasn’t your fault.” Spencer felt the need to say this aloud, reaching over and putting a gentle hand on her knee. She nodded at him before she continued.

“Just - it was all so overwhelming. The idea of having a dog in our house. But… I told him that I wanted to try, at least. For Henry.” JJ explained. “But when we went to the animal shelter - the sound of dogs barking… I couldn’t stop myself from flinching. And next thing I know, I’m sitting on the curb outside with my head between my knees and Will is putting a bottle of water to my lips.”

“Henry seems more like a cat person anyway.” Spencer replied, hoping this slightly humorous comment would offer some comfort to his friend.

JJ let out a tired laugh.

“He’s three and a half, I think we’re still in the stage where a goldfish is more than enough for him.” She added on.

“I - I never told Y/N.” Spencer said, suddenly shifting the conversation. JJ raised her brow, prompting further explanation of this. “I never told her what happened to me. What happened with Hankel.”

JJ gave him a sad look.

“Why not?”

“I - I didn’t want her to view me as weak. I couldn’t fight him off. I accepted the drugs. At certain points, I…. I even pitied him.” Spencer replied. “I didn’t want things to change between us. Even though they did anyway.”

“Do you still wanna be with her?” JJ asked.

“What?” Spencer gaped, not expecting the question.

“If the kid is yours, obviously you wanna be in his life. But co-parenting as separate, single people is one thing.” JJ explained herself. “Do you still want to be with Y/N? Do you still love her?”

“Yes.” Spencer replied shyly.

“Then you have to tell her everything.” JJ said firmly. “Being with someone for the long term isn’t about creating some fantasy. I fell in love with Will because he looked at me like I was Superwoman, but I stayed in love because he takes care of me when I’m powerless. You have to be weak in front of her and let her take care of you, so that you can be strong everywhere else.”

Spencer sighed - letting this wisdom fully penetrate him.

He knew that being a genius sometimes meant that he wasn’t the smartest person in the room. Apparently, this was one of those times.

“You’re right.”

Then, he reached for the car door’s handle, feeling like JJ had taught him a lot with that conversation and he needed some time to think alone.

“You want me to come with you?” JJ asked. “You might need a woman’s opinion on what to get,”

“No thanks, I know Y/N pretty well.” He replied. “At least I hope I still do.” He opened the door fully and stepped out. “And I wanted some alone time, to… think all of this over. To think about what I’m gonna say to Y/N. I’m gonna walk back afterwards, the house is only a few blocks away.”

JJ nodded.

“I should check back in with Hotch.” She noted. “See if they found anything with the other women on the list. Otherwise, all we’ve got is the flowers.”

Just as he moved to close the door again, JJ spoke up one last time.

“Rubble.” She said suddenly - which sounded very strange with no context.

“What?” Spencer asked, ducking his head down to see inside the car to potentially hear her words better.

“Rubble - it’s a character from the kids’ TV show, Paw Patrol.” She explained. “There was about five action figures of him sitting on the living room floor back there. So I would assume that he’s your son’s favorite character.”

Spencer’s chest jumped at the way she said ‘your son’ - so casually.

He could really have a child in his life. This could really be his future.

If he played his cards right, this could be his future with you.

“Thank you, JJ.” Spencer grinned at her.

She smiled back and he stood up to his full height and closed the car door, walking off into the shopping center by himself.

And of course, his thoughts drifted back to you.

He thought back to the last time he had spent your birthday with you. Before Hankel, before all the madness. Before everything good in his life slipped through his fingers and he was left feeling so alone.

…

For someone with basically no serious relationships under his belt before you came along, Spencer was excellent when it came to romance.

Perhaps it was because he spent his time reading the classics - he could recite Elizabethan poetry off by heart, he could whisper epic romantic ballads in your ear before kissing you with such intense passion that it left your head spinning. He had such a perfect picture of what romance should be, and it meant that he knew how to plan a date that left you feeling like a queen.

Every single time he took you out, he made you feel like you were the only woman on earth - like he would move the seas and the sky just to show you how much he cared.

And because he insisted that your birthday should be a day all about you - a day dedicated to celebrating you - then this was certainly no different.

The night had been a whirlwind of perfection.

After dinner at a gorgeous fine dining restaurant downtown, Spencer then drove the two of you to an art gallery to stroll around. He cited that he wanted you to have some down time for your food to settle before he gave you your present. From the spark in his eye, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what that present would be. The whole evening was so utterly beautiful and peaceful. And like everything with Spencer - it was a pleasant enrichment of the mind, looking at art while he told you things about the artists or the origins of the paintings.

Before you got halfway through the gallery, he checked his watch and told you that it was ‘just about time’ for your present, and then he drove you back to his apartment.

The two of you barely made it through the door before you had him pinned against it, your mouth enveloping his in a hot, desperate kiss. You were so utterly grateful to have such a romantic, thoughtful man in your life.

The entire evening had been nothing but a reminder of that - the way he looked at you with love so pure in his eyes. Him opening doors for you, keeping his hand on your lower back to usher you gently around, speaking lowly to you as though his words were precious and only meant to be yours.

You needed him. You needed to show him how much you appreciated all of it. You needed him to know how much of a treasure he was in your life.

You reached for his belt and Spencer let out a choked off moan into your mouth.

You were surprised when he reached for your wrist, gently pulling your touch back - stopping you from unfastening the belt as he pulled his now slightly swollen lips away from your kiss.

“As - as much as I want to,” He huffed out against your mouth. “I - I still have to give you your present.” He noted, flashing you a smile.

“I thought this was my present.” You replied, reaching down to grope Spencer’s half hard cock through his pants.

He let out a groan; but then he reached for your wrist again, pulling your touch back.

“I - I promise - later - afterwards? Later tonight.” He stuttered out, hard pressed to focus as more blood rushed to his cock.

Spencer puzzled you. You had never known any other man to interrupt foreplay for something other than sex, unless it was life or death. But it made you very curious about what your present was and why he was so desperate to give it to you.

And sex was still on the table, so that panging need between your legs would be taken care of eventually.

You hummed in ascent and stepped back, releasing Spencer from where you had him pressed against the door. He gulped in a large breath of air before he moved across the room.

You were surprised when he didn’t move to turn on any lights in the apartment, leaving the two of you settled in comfortable darkness. The only lights being the light from the bathroom that he had left on before leaving, shining down the hall, and the dim lighting coming in the windows - some street lights and the occasional passing car’s headlights.

Spencer shrugged off his blazer and tossed it over the back of the couch on his way toward the window. He yanked up the blinds in front of the space where he had set up a very expensive, advanced, gorgeous telescope - one that had been there the last few times you had visited. Astronomy was one of his many hobbies, and he often invited you to view different stars or passing comets. It was just one of the many things you learned from him - knowledge you absorbed from being around him that made you feel infinitely smarter.

You always indulged in the joy of feeling smarter just from being in his presence. You loved that Spencer was someone so gifted who loved to share his knowledge, rather than gatekeeping it or being snide toward others who weren’t as privileged as him. It was just another thing to love about him - the fact that he was so kind in sharing his big brain with others.

You watched him with intrigue while you took your wrap off your shoulders and tossed your purse onto the couch. Enjoying the quiet and the peaceful darkness and watching him work, you moved to sit on the arm of the couch to begin unstrapping your heels.

He checked his watch again, and then looked to a small side table he had near the telescope. He flipped open a notebook that he had there, and you supposed that the minimal light coming in through the window was enough for him to see whatever it was that he had written there. He adjusted the telescope slightly, then looked at the notebook again, then adjusted the telescope again.

Then he said ‘aha, there you are’ under his breath, grinning widely to himself.

The entire thing made your insides glow with curiosity.

Spencer then turned back to you, still grinning widely. When he noticed your shoe half-hanging off your foot, he stepped over to you and softly grabbed your ankle, sliding your shoe off the entire way before gently rubbing the sole of your foot.

“Let me help you with that, Princess.” He said quietly, before moving to take the shoe off your other foot.

Again, your insides tingled as he made you feel like you were the most important woman on earth.

“Thank you.” You replied, almost speechless at the action.

“If you’ll step right this way, I can show you your present.” He said, motioning toward the telescope with a dramatic flare.

You let out a giggle as you stepped over your abandoned shoes and moved to look into the telescope.

You wondered if he had written some poem and taped it onto the other end of the lens or something like that (it was Spencer, it must have been something epically romantic). But as you bent down and closed one eye to get a good look, it was entirely ordinary.

The telescope was focused on a single, tiny star.

It was beautiful, but it was very… plain. And more than anything, it was confusing.

Your present was… a star?

“Spencer, I don’t really get it?” You sighed, standing up to your full height once again.

“I got you a star.” He said proudly, grinning even wider now.

When you stared at him with more intense confusion, Spencer reached over to the notebook and pulled something out. After he handed it to you, you leaned into the light of the window and studied it carefully.

It was a certificate stating that Spencer had paid to name the star after you.

He had literally changed the night sky for you.

“Oh my god.” You gasped quietly.

You felt so overwhelmed.

If he had made you feel like the most important woman in the world before, then now - you felt like the most important woman in the galaxy.

“Spencer, this is - this is too much.” You said, your throat clenching up slightly due to the intensity of the emotions.

“No, it’s not.” He said firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on your jaw, tilting your face up from looking at the certificate to look at him.

There it was again, all of it spelled out in his eyes - the adoration, the pure, overwhelming affection that he felt for you. It bloomed nothing but those same feelings in return from you. It was almost so overwhelming that you felt like you could have exploded from how much love you felt for this man, all of it swelling inside of you so quickly that you felt like your body couldn’t contain it. Like it was a sickness that was going to overrun your body if you weren’t careful.

“Spencer.”

His name swelled in your throat like that throbbing love, and you couldn’t help yourself from reaching out and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, pulling him into another kiss. Because of course, words weren’t enough. You smothered him with your mouth, trying desperately to communicate every ounce of passion and gratefulness you were feeling with the heat of that kiss.

Spencer held you, engulfing both your cheeks with his large, warm hands, kissing you back with just as much intensity.

Both of you lingered there for a few moments, savoring each other’s lips, mingling in each other’s breath.

You were disappointed when Spencer pulled away.

“There is something else.” He told you, a bit of glee edging on his voice.

“What?” You gaped, shocked by this.

“There’s something else I have to give you. Another part of your present.” He clarified, pulling back completely - likely in order to fetch this thing.

You let out a breath. You weren’t sure how this magnificent man could possibly do more.

You placed the certificate for the star down on the table where Spencer had kept it. Later, you would take it home and have it framed, wanting to display it proudly. You could imagine yourself putting it up in the front of your home when you eventually moved in with Spencer. You could put it next to your marriage certificate; eventually, put next to wedding photos when the two of you eventually got married. (And sometime later, it would be hanging alongside photos of you and Spencer with your kids. You tingled, realizing that this was the first time you had ever thought of having kids with him, but it fit so well. It seemed right.)

The thought made you tingle.

You could truly imagine yourself having a life with Spencer. Standing proudly because this was just the beginning of it. He truly felt like ‘the one’ you had always been waiting for.

“Here.”

Spencer’s voice pulled you from your plethora of dreamy thoughts, and you turned to see him holding a velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat at the passing thought that it might be the box - but no. Now wasn’t the time. The two of you had only been dating for a year and a half. And while you were so deeply in love, you knew that it was a bit haste to assume that he was ready for marriage when you were his first serious girlfriend. You were still both so young.

He opened the lid and you let out a small gasp when you saw it.

It was a simple, elegant silver necklace. The pendant was a four pointed star, with a small, dainty stone in the middle. You easily recognized it as your birthstone, meant to represent the fact that he had given it to you on your birthday. And obviously the star pendant as a whole represented that he had also gifted you a literal star in the sky on that same day.

“Spencer, it’s so beautiful.” You said, utterly breathless.

“Traditionally, the four pointed star is believed to represent the designation of a goal. It marks one’s great endeavors, because it seems to point to the four cardinal directions. This star is meant to guide someone, like a map - the way that sailors used the stars to guide their path.”

Spencer explained, knowledgeable as he always was.

“I - I chose this for you because… well, because when I met you, I felt as though I had accomplished great things in all areas of my life, except for one. Academically, I was satisfied. In my career, I was happy. But when it came to matters of the heart… I was utterly clueless. And when I found you… it felt like you were my guiding star. Like you were the person I had been waiting for to finally show me - show me the meaning of love.”

“Oh, Spencer.” Your voice cracked around these words, barely able to form them. “Oh, honey. I love you so much. Thank you.”

It was all your mind could gather at the moment. It wasn’t the first time you had said it to him, but it was certainly one of the most intense.

“I love you too.” He replied. Through the dimness, you could almost see tears forming in his eyes. “You truly make me so happy.”

Spencer then cleared his throat harshly, wanting to clear away his intensely emotional tears.

“Can - can I put it on you?” He asked shyly, motioning with the necklace in its box.

“Of course.” You grinned. “I’d love that.”

You turned around and Spencer took it out of the box, fiddling with the dainty clasp for a moment before he put it around your neck and then did it up for you. It felt so right around your neck. It felt like his love was being carried with you. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to take it off anytime soon. You could easily imagine yourself feeling so proud to answer whenever random strangers or your co-workers asked where it was from.

When it was secured around your neck, Spencer leaned in and laid a gentle, open-mouthed kiss against the chain. This simple act reminded you of that needy throb between your thighs; of what you had been wanting so badly the moment you had come in the door.

“So…” He whispered against your neck. “What else does the birthday girl want?”

“I can think of a few things.”

That was how you ended up with your back pressed against the softness of the couch - too impatient to even make it to the bed - with your dress pushed up around your waist, your panties tossed somewhere in the middle of the living room rug. Spencer’s glasses were pressed up onto his forehead while his knees dug into that same rug, his fingers splayed across your thighs, holding you open to makeway for his tongue.

He ate you out with all of the intensity and passion that he had kissed you with - moaning into your pussy as though he was singing directly to the gods.

“Fuck, Spence.” You moaned, raking your hands through his hair, holding him close - not that he would want to pull away for even a second.

He loved your taste more than anything in the world, and he savored every second that he got the privilege of being on his knees for you. He moaned into your pussy, loudly, almost pathetically - hot echoes coming from his lungs as though he was the one being pleasured. He laved his tongue across you with an open jaw, drinking in as much of you as possible while your thighs quaked around his head. Your nails dug into his scalp and he only moaned harder, loving the sound of your needy whines and your gasping breaths as your clit throbbed under his tongue.

Spencer hummed in delight while he bounced your clit on his tongue, loving the feeling of that sweet little bead throbbing against him; loving your taste, loving your echoing moans. Loving how much he could bring you pleasure.

“Fuck, Spence, so close!”

He put his lips around you and sucked then, holding you gently against him by the hips. He couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of your body quaking against his face while your orgasm overtook you. It was overwhelming and beautiful and warmed your whole body - just like the love you felt for him.

He pulled away after a moment, when he was sure that he had seen you through to the satisfying end, and he grinned against the mound of your pussy.

“Happy birthday, pretty girl.”

…

After the break-up, Spencer often looked up to the sky and thought about you.

On the nights when your star was in place overhead, he felt a particular pang in his chest. He wondered where you were and what you were doing. He wondered if you were safe. He spent many nights staring out his telescope, wondering if you were happy, blanketed under that inky sky.

You thought about the star sometimes, too.

You thought it was a lot like your relationship with Spencer. Placing all of your hopes and dreams onto something already dead - something where the light had died out long ago.

...

Continue reading: Chapter Three - Turn It Off

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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little-diable · 25 days

Text

May thy knife – Feyd-Rautha (smut)

This is y'alls fault, all your comments made me write this. So, here we go, psychotic reader is back, but with a somewhat loving relationship. It felt only right to twist this famous scene – I'm sure this has been done before but I haven't read a fic that takes on this twist just yet, so I'm in no means copying any fic out there. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: What if the reader, who is married to Feyd-Rautha, didn't know that Paul, her brother, was still alive? What if it was her fighting against him instead of Feyd – all for revenge, to make her brother feel the same pain he had forced her to feel with his faked death?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), willingly rough loss of virginity, choking, dom!Feyd, degrading, spitting, fighting, passing out, blood licking, knife licking, reader is a psycho fitting Feyd, yet there's some form of love between the two, and no, I ain't killing us so we survive the fight

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x fem!Atreides!reader (4.2k words)

The hatred she emanated was felt by all people surrounding her, people who didn’t dare meet her icy gaze – not even the emperor dared to turn towards (y/n). It was a wise decision, for the sake of all their lives, knowing that she could rob their soul and their last breath even without any weapons on her.

It had only been a few minutes since they had been taken prisoner, and while (y/n) could have easily fought her way out of the tight grasp, she hadn’t been able to move. Frozen to her spot as she had never been before, unable to move as her eyes followed the frame of the Muad’Dib. Paul Atreides. Her brother. The man she had believed to be dead for endless weeks. The prophet who hadn’t spotted her in the small crowd.

Not even Feyd-Rautha’s closeness had managed to rile her up at that moment, the man she had been forced to marry, the man she hadn’t allowed to touch her, not even on their wedding night. It hadn’t taken him long to accept that she’d cut off his hands should he touch her, speaking lies to the Baron to answer private questions that had left (y/n)’s insides churning. Feyd had protected her even when she went against a simple contract, lured closer by the darkness she carried deep within herself.

She had made too many sacrifices for her brother and their mother’s lies, tossed away for a strategic marriage she hadn’t been prepared for. All to mourn her brother who was still alive and breathing, guiding those who saw the prophet in him.

“You’re quiet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, wife.” Feyd’s breath teased her neck, he stood with his armoured front pressed against her back, hands resting on her waist. It was a dangerous game, a game she didn’t buy into, too focused on her racing mind. Feyd gave (y/n) another moment to push him away, just like she had always done – but she didn’t, she kept herself pressed against him as if he was an anchor saving her from drowning. “What are you planning?”

“How I will kill the Muad’Dib.” Not one ounce of love thumped through her veins, an emotion she had once held onto, at least for her older brother; a love that had frozen in her system the second she had heard his voice ring in her ears minutes ago. Feyd’s raspy chuckles left her skin tingling, adding fuel to the fire simmering deep inside of her.

For a moment, (y/n) allowed herself to focus on her husband’s touch, how he held onto her, tight enough to send a clear message to wandering eyes. He may have not claimed her behind closed doors, addicted to their game of back-and-forth, but to all those eyes, she was his as he was hers, a ruthless husband to a cunning wife.

“You know, I am always excited for a fight.” She wanted to reply, wanted to tease him for fighting against drugged prisoners who never stood a chance against him, but the second his cold lips met her throat, her words were lost on her sharp tongue. Her heart roared in her chest, not used to being kissed by Feyd, not after their first and only kiss in front of their wedding guests.

“You won’t fight. This is between my brother and me.” (Y/n) turned in Feyd’s grasp, letting her eyes wander over her husband’s features. He was handsome, she had always been drawn to him, and yet something had always held her back – the fear of being tied down by a man who perfectly matched her ruthless ways, a man who would rather kill himself than back down from a fight, just like (y/n). They were too similar, a scary realisation she had been forced to face many moons ago.

“I will let you fight, wife, but for that, I get to claim you tonight.” The mischief twinkling in his bright pupils pushed anger through her, anger clashing against lust. Her mind didn’t get to interfere as (y/n) shifted her weight onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. She pulled away before Feyd could deepen the kiss, heart roaring in her chest as if it was communicating with his.

“You’ll have to lick my brother’s blood off me before you get to touch me.” Her words were meant as a warning, a warning Feyd clearly found enjoyment in. And with his raspy laugh echoing through the room, she found herself thrown back into her darkening mindset, preparing for a fight against her brother.

……

“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me?” Paul’s voice filled the room. She didn’t see much of his frame, standing behind Feyd to shield herself from her brother’s and her mother’s eyes. She hated the way her fingers trembled, urged on by her anger, by her sadness, emotions flushing through her like poison set to kill her. “They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think? I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis.”

She wanted to shoot forward, wanted to throw herself against her brother’s frame to force him to his knees. But the hand Feyd pressed against her stomach to hold her back was enough to stay glued to her spot. The time wasn’t right just yet.

“Gurney, send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all spice fields.” Paul’s words left most of the people surrounding (y/n) tensing, words that were about to force a laugh out of her. She could feel and see her mother’s influence on Paul, forming him into the son she had always dreamt him to be.

“You’re out of your mind.” The Emperor’s slightly trembling voice drew a smirk to both (y/n) and Feyd’s lips, they got a taste of the chaos soon unfolding in front of them, drawing a sick sense of satisfaction and anticipation through the couple.

“He’s bluffing.” She couldn’t stop a soft laugh from leaving her at her husband’s words, urged on by the need to stand even closer. Her body was guiding her without giving her mind a chance to protest as her hand found Feyd’s. She was still covered by his tall frame, and yet she felt him freezing for just a second as she interlaced their hands.

“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides.” Within seconds, the voice filled their ears, forcing the Reverend Mother to lose her balance. No longer could (y/n) focus on the exchange between Paul and the Emperor, no longer could she focus on Feyd whose hand she had dropped once again. (Y/n) knew that the time was finally right, it was now or never, a fight that would end with either her’s or her brother’s life on the line.

“Stand or choose your champion.” Those were the words that ripped (y/n) out of her trance, pushing past her husband. She didn’t see how Feyd’s fingers twitched, having to stop himself from reaching for her, to stop (y/n) from fighting a battle he had been destined for.

“I’m here, Paul.” (Y/n) spoke the words with venom dripping from her voice, watching her brother’s bright pupils widen. From the corner of her eye, she could watch her mother shoot to her feet, and yet (y/n) didn’t dare let her gaze wander, enjoying the realisation that began to widen on her brother’s panicked features. “I need a blade.”

“Accept mine.” She didn’t rip her eyes from her brother’s to look at the Emperor, seizing the chance to read Paul well enough to tell her that he fought an inner battle. Paul whispered her name as he slightly shook his head, begging his sister to step away. Her tongue kissed her teeth as a blood-curdling smile widened on her lips, she didn’t need to speak up to tell Paul that she’d try everything she could to kill him, a simple act of revenge for leaving her, for forgetting her, for playing her.

With a slow nod thrown her way, seemingly accepting her will to fight, Paul turned from (y/n) to walk back towards his people. Only Feyd’s hand on her waist managed to rip her gaze from her brother’s frame, “Make me proud wife. Kill him.”

Feyd squeezed her waist as he pressed a harsh kiss to her lips, a clear signal for all those who were watching their interaction. He’d kill them all should she die, avenge her death as if it was his own life they tried to take. Without speaking another word, (y/n) pushed Feyd away from her, she tightened her grip on the Emperor’s blade, and let her feet carry her towards her brother.

“(Y/n),” Paul’s choked-up voice drew a humourless chuckle out of her. For a moment, she allowed her gaze to stray, to look at their pregnant mother and the unreadable expression she wore. (Y/n) had never been the favourite child, even though she was the girl Jessica had been asked to birth. She had always been too ruthless, too cold, too cunning for their family, the outcast who had been married to Feyd at the first given chance.

“Say it.” (Y/n)’s words were venomous, spat at her brother whose pained expression made him appear even more pathetic in her eyes. She wanted Paul to speak the words, words the siblings had spoken as mere children whenever they challenged one another into a play fight. Paul kept quiet, unable to part his lips until she almost screamed her words, “Say it!”

“May thy knife chip and shatter.” Paul’s voice trembled as he spoke the words, momentarily closing his eyes as if he struggled to accept their fate, to accept that he was expected to kill his beloved sister, unable to back down from a fight like this. She repeated the words much slower than Paul had, with a dangerous smile tugging on her lips – no longer did (y/n) care about her own life, about the mere chance of dying in her brother’s arms. She was hungry for revenge, to make him feel the pain she had been forced to carry deep within herself these past weeks.

And then everything began to blur, one attack after another, one strike after another, one stumble after another. She felt all their eyes on them as they fought, but (y/n) couldn’t give into the temptation to study the crowd, searching for Feyd’s eyes that were glistening with adoration for his wife. A woman fighting like a snake, slithering along Paul’s body to squeeze him to death.

Only as Paul’s knife cut (y/n)’s skin for the first time did her world begin to slow down, momentarily stopping its spinning motion. Paul seemed to freeze just like she did, focusing on the blood pouring from the wound. Perhaps he expected her to back down, to leave the circle to search for her husband’s protection. But (y/n) did something she had studied her husband do one too many times: Her fingers found her wound, picking up the drops of blood to suck her fingers clean, high on the coppery taste. Feyd’s laughter rang in her ears as she attacked her brother once again, faster this time, even more ruthless than the rounds before.

With blood sticking to her lips, (y/n) and Paul kept circling one another – all until she seized her chance to ram her knife into his side. Paul’s gasp forced their mother to her feet once again, searching her daughter’s eyes to shake her head, a silent warning not to kill her brother, a silent gesture that they wouldn’t mourn her death, only Paul’s. But while her mother’s eyes carried a clear warning, Feyd’s carried encouragement, asking his wife to end this right there and then.

A moment of distraction that gave her brother the chance to slice his blade through her skin, forcing it to nestle inside her stomach. Both siblings held onto one another, glassy eyes finding back together as neither loosened their grip.

“Do it, kill me. Feel the pain you’ve forced me to feel, feel the grief that has almost killed me.” Tears dripped from (y/n)’s eyes as she choked on her blood, knowing that she’d pass out any moment now. And even though she felt the darkness creeping through her veins, telling her that it was time to bid this life goodbye, a smile began to widen on her lips.

This was the moment she had imagined all these weeks, it was finally upon them.

Slowly Paul sacked to the ground with (y/n) clinging to him, holding onto her as he lifted his teary gaze. She didn’t see the way her brother's panicked gaze looked around the room, didn’t see the way his eyes found Feyd’s rage-filled ones, luring her husband closer. All she could focus on were the tears dripping from Paul’s bright eyes, holding back his sobs as Feyd kneeled next to them.

“Do whatever you must, save my sister.”

……

She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open. It took her a moment to focus on her surroundings, the grey walls, the dim light, and the figure standing close to her bed. Pain shot through her as she tried to move, forced to plop back down onto the mattress with a curse clawing through her.

“You’re finally awake.” Feyd’s raspy voice drew a whimper from (y/n)’s chapped lips, eyes momentarily fluttering close to try and remind herself of what had happened. “You almost died, killed by your foolish brother who has never fought fair before. I should have killed him for hurting you.”

“Come here.” (Y/n) ignored her husband’s words, not daring to think of her brother, of their fight, and of the blood she had lost. Wordlessly, Feyd came to a halt next to her, staring down at her to wait for (y/n)’s next command. With another gasp roaring through her, she shuffled around on the bed, making space for her husband to lay next to her. “If you tell others of this I will kill you.”

His chuckles filled the room as he carefully placed himself next to her. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, giving the married couple a chance to be close to one another for the first time, without any eyes on them, without hatred urging words to leave their cold lips.

Feyd’s hand slightly trembled as he reached for her no longer bloody fingers, slowly interlacing them. Never had he done this before, reaching for her without any further message to communicate, holding onto her for the mere chance to be close to her.

“What happened to Paul?” Pain clawed through her at the thought of her brother. Anger had forced her to act, anger she hadn’t been able to swallow until now, unsure how to accept that her family had lied to her.

“Don’t worry about him for now.” Feyd didn’t tell her how he had left the planet with her, how he had brought her away from that place. Feyd didn’t tell her how he had sworn to Paul that he’d avenge (y/n)’s death should she die. Feyd didn’t tell her how Paul had told others to let them go, not knowing where Feyd was taking (y/n), not knowing if he’d ever see his sister again.

And at that very moment, (y/n) didn’t find the strength to ask another question, the strength she would regain soon enough to find her path back to her cunning self, set on ending the ruleless game between her and her family.

……

“Fight like a Harkonnen for fuck’s sake!” Anger pushed her words past her clenched teeth. Sweat was pooling on (y/n)’s forehead as she stared at her husband with spite swimming in her pupils. She knew Feyd was holding back, not trusting that (y/n) had regained her full strength just yet, the strength she’d need to force him to his knees in a training session like this.

“Wife.” It was a warning he spoke, a warning not to rile him up even further, knowing that he’d lose his patience soon enough. (Y/n) darted at her husband, her body collided with his to throw them both to the ground. She straddled his waist with a grim expression tugging on her features, knowing that in any other scenario, she wouldn’t have been able to attack Feyd like that. “Fine, this is your own fault, darling.”

Feyd harshly pushed her off him, momentarily robbing his wife of her breath as her back collided with the cold ground. He rose to his feet with his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists – the version of her husband (y/n) desperately had tried to trigger. They circled one another, holding onto their blades with twitching fingers, set on regaining the upper hand.

Now it was on Feyd to attack first, his blade met hers over and over again, until he cut her cheek, drawing a hiss out of (y/n). She was heavily panting as he chuckled, bringing the bloody tip of his blade up to his pale lips to lick it clean, moaning at the taste of her blood.

Something began to shift at that moment, something that forced her to drop her blade, to throw herself into his grasp and to kiss him. Both fell back to the ground, allowing Feyd to cage her between the floor and his frame. His hand found her throat to keep her pinned down beneath him, all while their tongues fought for victory.

(Y/n) tightened her legs' grasp around his waist to pull him even closer, moaning at the way he ground his hips against hers, making her feel his hardening cock straining against his tight trousers. Everything about this moment was new to her, unsure of where to go from there without any experience guiding her, not knowing how to touch her husband. And yet, everything seemed to come almost naturally to her, trusting her body and Feyd to push her through the soaring waves of heat filling her trembling body.

“I should have fucked you months ago. You had your chance, but now I won’t be gentle with you, I will fuck you as a woman like you deserves to be fucked.” His words shot heat straight to her core, words that forced her to hold still as Feyd kept manhandling her, cutting her shirt open with his blade. The groan that left him at the sight of her naked chest made (y/nn) back arch, desperate to feel his hands on her. “I should tie you up, keep you as my toy to claim whenever I am hungry for you. I bet you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“I hate you!” It was nothing but a lie, a lie both easily saw through, but at that very moment neither Feyd nor (y/n) cared about pleasantries, urged on by their desires. He cut open her trousers before another curse could leave her, exposing her arousal-covered folds to his darkening eyes. Tonight he’d litter her in bruises. Tonight he’d force her to follow his rules. Tonight he’d show her his most ruthless side.

“Hate me all you want, wife, your body still craves the touch of your husband. You’re dripping for me.” He didn’t warn her before he plunged two fingers into her tightness, feeling her walls flutter around his digits. Feyd held eye contact with her as he spat on her cunt, rubbing his saliva against her pulsing bundle. (Y/n)’s moans rang in his ears, urging him on as if he was high on spice, blurring out their surroundings, blurring out the calmness they were now disturbing. “I can’t wait to rip you open with my cock, make you feel pain you won’t ever forget.”

Her mind was silenced, fogged up by the lust thumping through her veins. Feyd fucked her with his fingers, he pushed her closer to the high she had only allowed herself to feel whenever she had been desperate for his touch but too proud to search his closeness. But her body wasn’t ready to give up the chase just yet. Her hand found her blade, moving without gaining Feyd’s attention, who was still fully focused on her cunt.

With quick movements, she brought the tip of her blade to his throat, stopping him in his movements. The chuckle leaving Feyd left her smirking, looking even more psychotic with the blood still dripping from the cut on her cheek. She barely put up a fight as Feyd ripped the blade from her hand, as he shifted them around to bring her to her knees and up against his front.

The blade teased her throat as he held her to him, even as he freed his aching cock, ready to disappear deep inside of her, “You had your chance, I would have prepared you for my cock, would have given you time to adjust. But that kindness is no longer among us. Now you’ll take my cock like my own personal whore.”

He forced his cock into her cunt, groaning at the tightness engulfing him. Tears ran down her cheeks, tears of lust, of pain, of desperation – finding an unfamiliar sense of enjoyment in Feyd’s rough touches. His name rolled off her tongue as he fucked into her from behind, dropping the knife to choke her with his cold hands once again.

Feyd was treating her like his pet, treating her like he had been raised to treat women – momentarily forgetting about the love he fostered deep inside of him. And she loved every second of it, finally able to give up control for the first time.

“It brings me great pleasure knowing that no other man will ever get to have you like this. Your body is mine, you’re my whore, you only listen to my commands. And you will kill whoever dares to touch you should I not be fast enough to do it myself.” His words left her choking, forced to claw her fingernails into his pale skin as her mind began to race. Even though the words didn’t sound like it, it was the most sincere love confession Feyd had ever spoken, words that cut deeper than any blade ever would.

“Feyd.” She whimpered his name as his free hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves to push her towards the edge. The first of many orgasms was awaiting her, set on ripping her from this place into another dimension, led by her husband. (Y/n) felt his black teeth run along her neck, biting the spot where her neck met her shoulders, close to drawing some more blood from her weeping body.

She came without another word clawing through her, calling out his name as her orgasm momentarily robbed her of her vision. Feyd kept a strong hold on her throat, his hips kept meeting her behind, forcing his cock further into her clenched tightness. He gave it a few more thrusts before he pulled out of her and rose to his feet.

With his hand finding her hair, he forced her towards him, making her scalp burn from the strength of his touch. His cock was shoved past her parted lips, letting (y/n) taste herself on his cock as he fucked her mouth. The corners of her mouth began to burn within a few moments, once again making tears fall from her glassy eyes.

She had never seen her husband like this, trembling for her, with his head thrown back, and his eyes closed, fully focused on the pleasure thumping through her. No longer did she feel the need to fight, no longer did her fingertips ache for the feeling of her blade, no, for the first time since knowing Feyd, she wanted to give her everything to satisfy the man.

“You’ll swallow every drop of my seed, and then you’ll lick me clean.” It was a simple command, a command that left her moaning around his cock. Feyd came within a few more seconds, releasing himself down her throat and on her eager tongue. The two held eye contact as she swallowed, as she ran her tongue up and down his twitching length, following his every command.

“Where are you going, wife?” She froze in her movements, her heavily panting self had turned from him, set on plopping down on the ground to catch her breath. (Y/n)’s wide eyes were drawn back to his like spice forced up into the air, following the wind’s call. “That was only the beginning. I won’t be done with you for a while.”

#Feyd Rautha smut #Feyd Rautha imagine #Austin Butler #Feyd Rautha x reader #dune imagine

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cinnamoodles · 1 month

Note

what are ur favorite anthony bridgerton five

hi! i'm assuming this says fics, and i am SO HONOURED that you trust me to recommend my favourite fics to you!

first up… the amazing and fantastic @fayes-fics, one of THE MOST skilled writers alive. she never misses!

some of my personal favs from her are:

➥ a beneficial arrangement [ ⭐️ ]

a marriage pact with a viscount. what could possibly go wrong?

➥ rescue and ruin

anthony rescues something for you… and it will likely lead to your ruin.

➥ the friends+ series

modern AU. series of fics that feature anthony & journalist!reader’s burgeoning relationship.

those are just a few of my favorites, but READ HER ENTIRE MASTERLIST! you will not regret it, promise.

secondly, a series of fics by the wonderfully talented @rubysunnday, and once again, be sure to read all of her masterlist!

➥ take my hand

as much as y/n appreciates anthony’s matchmaking efforts, it’s hard to accept them when he’s the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one

➥ a long, long time

y/n has waited a long, long time for anthony bridgerton to finally decide to get married. but by the time he finally decides to find a wife, y/n has run out of time and anthony is suddenly faced with losing her to someone else.

➥ it’s a bad idea, me and you [ ⭐️ ]

y/n was ready to give her entire heart to anthony bridgerton. only for him to shove her aside in favour for sienna rosso. but, now, sienna is gone and despite what y/n keeps telling herself - anthony truly does own her heart.

now, for the queen of the modern!anthony au, @eleanor-bradstreet! some of my favorites from her are…

➥ gala

you attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.

➥ locked out

when you find yourselves locked out of your house in the middle of the night, anthony has some ideas for how you can kill time.

➥ take me instead [ ⭐️ ]

you and anthony find yourselves in the middle of a bank robbery on an ill-fated day.

next we have @colettebronte, BRIDGERTON SMUT AUNTIE HERSELF WOOO!

(warning, these fics are VERY mature, and include BDSM and other possibly triggering material).

➥ rise and breathe

newly arrived back in london after a long journey across the mediterranean sea, you encounter a pathetically drunk viscount bridgerton the night he is rejected by sienna rosso. after a sobering morning on all counts, you sense that he is indeed lost and in need of a new purpose and direction. through submission and service, he may just find it.

➥ what (who) are you doing on new year’s eve?

a mysterious benefactor invites you to ring in the New Year with them.

➥ kinktober day ten: blindfolded

your tenth evening with your client. day ten for kinktober. I’m going with two prompts tonight, blindfolded and massage.

finally, we have some individual fics that stole my heart.

➥ diamonds and pearls by @multiharlot

diamonds and pearls do not make up for the lack of love in your marriage.

➥ enamoured by @dreamwritesimagines

everything you heard about matters of heart and desire told you the same thing; love could lead to heartbreak at best and disastrous results at worst. yet, you were convinced that everyone was wrong. they had to be, because love was supposed to make everyone happier, no confusion or pain in sight. regardless of how naive it sounded, you were sure that you were ready to fall in love and lose yourself in the infamous bliss. that assumption right there was a terrible mistake, though. you were nowhere near ready.

➥ right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch

you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings.

➥ right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

the only way he could rationally find a suitable wife was by removing love from the equation all together. courtship was game of jumping through hoops he really did not want to play, and he was a viscount. surely there would be a father with a more than suitable daughter he could simply ask for your hand and get it. or the one where your arranged marriage with anthony bridgerton isn’t a loving marriage… until it is.

➥ melt away by @healmydesires

the night you give your love and body to your husband.

➥ sham, pride, and illicit affairs by @peeterparkr

or, the story of how you rejected his proposal because you once loved him.

➥ enchanted by @imthebadguyyy

you and anthony don’t need words to converse.

➥ better man by @midnightfictionlibrary

anthony must rectify his rakish ways and wed, but he has a lot to think over if he doesn’t want to lose his dearest friend forever.

➥ no longer in denial by @iwritefandomimagines

anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.

➥ the language of flowers by @cinnamoodles (shameless self plug)

you and anthony have been friends for as long as you can remember, but what happens when his world turns upside down? will he open his heart and let the woman silently pining for him in?

AHH ok that was it, and these are the bridgerton fics i love with all of my soul. thank you so much for your ask, it was so nice to see all these wonderful fics again.

xo, lottie !

#🐋 . . . charlotte speaks !#anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fic rec #bridgerton fics

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imaginesandsmut · 10 months

Text

So Good

Paring: Ethan Landry x fem reader

Summary: You and Ethan had hated each other since you too met, but when you're at a party dancing with a frat boy, Ethan takes it upon himself to show who you really belong to.

Warnings: Alcohol, smutty smut smut, and some fluff at the end.

Writers note: This was requested by @kianachampion and was definitely a great idea. Don't be shy to send fic ideas my way, ya'll. But anyways, enjoy xx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laughed whilst trying to steady your hand, the mascara wand shaking from your movements. The music in Tara’s bedroom was louder than any concert you have ever been to, pounding in your ears and causing you to go slightly deaf.

“Okay but I’m serious,” Tara yelled over the music, “if you don’t wear this skirt, I will kill you. You’ll look so good.”

You turned in your seat at Tara’s desk, turning to see her hold up the shortest skirt of your life. It was tiny, denim, pleated and with a chain dangling from one loop to another. It was cute but you didn’t know if you could pull it off, your ass would definitely be seen if you so much as lifted your arms.

“Please.” Tara tried her puppy dog eyes, pouting her lip in an effort to win you over. “I can’t be the only one wearing something slutty.”

“So you admit it’s too short!” You laugh at her attempt at playing cute.

“It is!” Tara walked over to her bottle of vodka and took a swig, swaying to the music. “But no one will care, it’s a frat party for god sake.”

You both were getting ready for the next rager at whatever Kappa Kappa Fi house it was at, most likely filled with the same people but during this exam season, everyone is looking to blow off some steam.

You could hear Mindy and Anika singing to the song through the walls, they were both in the living room preparing drinks for everybody. Chad and Ethan were somewhere in the apartment, probably hyping each other up by calling each other snacks and grunting.

You turned back to the mirror and inspected your makeup, satisfied with the results you got up and took the mini skirt from Tara’s hand. She clapped her hands dramatically with glee as you took off your sweatpants and replaced them with the skirt, suddenly feeling very cold.

“You look hot.” She pushed you towards the mirror to inspect yourself. The skirt looked nice, your legs looked nice too. You paired it with a graphic baby tee and your beat up tennis shoes.

“You look good too.” You turned to Tara and took the bottle from her, taking a swig as she smiled and twirled her short dress for you.

You enjoyed these moments with your best friend, just smiling and happy. You both met in your first class of University, you were nervous because you hadn’t made any friends in the city yet but the spot next to Tara was empty and you were feeling bold. She smiled at you when you sat down, you smiled back and it was the beginning of your friendship.

“Can you two hurry up now!” Mindy yelled from the kitchen, her voice much louder than the music.

You and Tara giggled at each other, both already buzzed from the few swigs of alcohol. You both left her room and joined the group in the living room, they were all drinking and laughing together. It was moments like this that made you really love your friends.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Except for one.

Ethan was taking in your appearance, a red solo cup filled with whatever alcoholic slushie Anika has made for everyone. His outburst caused everyone to look at you, all of them looking you up and down.

“Damn, you’re hot.” Mindy

“Thank you, Mindy.” You send a scowl at Ethan, the boy sipping his drink with a crease between his eyebrows.

Ever since you became friends with Tara, you became friends with the rest of her friends. The only person you can’t get along with at all is Ethan, he annoys you to knew end and he lets you know that the feeling is mutual. Constantly bickering with each other and fighting over anything possible. Anything that he could make a snide remark about, he does.

“You’re gonna get cold.” Ethan’s voice was a mumble, like he was annoyed with your own choice of clothing.

“I’ll be fine.” You cross the room and grab a drink from Anika, downing it in one go. With just a few words, he managed to get on your nerves and fill you with a need to punch him in the face.

“I’m just saying that it’s just a frat party, not a fashion show.” Ethan continued his attack on you.

“Oh my god, It’s not like you have to wear it.” You turned to look at him, crossing your arms defensively.

“If you bend over everyone is gonna see your ass.”

"So what?" You ask, annoyed and confused as to why he would care.

"God why do you need to be so uptight about everything?" He takes a swig of his drink whilst still taking in your appearance. "You need to loosen up."

"I would if you weren't around."

“Okay!” Tara claps her hands loudly, shutting you both up. “Let’s go.”

The whole walk towards the frat party was filled with you and Tara laughing over something whilst Mindy rambles about the newest Stab movie. But all you could focus on was Ethan walking behind you, way too close behind you. He kept bumping into you from behind and not even apologising for it, just shrugging when you told him off. It wasn't long till you reached the party, pushing your way through the crowd and towards the drinks table, shaking Ethan off your tail.

"Go find some boring person to talk about movies with." You shout at him over the music as he tried following you through the crowd. It was annoying how much he fought with you yet still followed you around, an endless torture cycle.

"I'm just waiting for you to fall and show your ass to the entire party." He shouted back, his frame towering over you.

"God I don't care, just leave."

"I'm not leaving." Ethan looked around the party, obviously trying to find a place for you both to go so you could fight even more. "Let's go to the kitchen over there."

Before he could turn back to face you, you slipped away from his sight and hid behind a group of people. You watched Ethan turn back to where you were supposed to be, the wildy look around to find you. He gave up after a bit and huffed in annoyance, walking over to the kitchen and talking to Chad.

You walked over to another area of the house, hoping to be free of the ever irritating Ethan Landry. The pool table came into your sights and was loaded with bottles, ice and cans. You grabbed the first closed cap you could find and cracked it open, taking a swig and almost gagging at the taste.

“They’re not very good.” A voice behind you spoke, it was slurred but confident. You turned and took in the most stereotypical looking frat boy in your life, complete with the unbuttoned shirt and backwards cap.

Normally, you would wave boys like him off. But you were tipsy and looking to have some fun tonight, so you played into his trap.

“Then what do you recommend?” You put on your most charming smile for him, completed with a slight tip of your head.

“I would try this.” He beamed at you, reaching over and grabbing a bottle from the table. “It tastes like Fanta.”

You take the drink from him and take a sip, nodding your head at the taste. He take your approval with a grin, nodding his own head.

“I’m Luke.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Do you wanna dance, Y/N?” Luke seemed nice and charming, and he wants to dance with you which gives you a big ego boost. “You look so good, I just have to ask.”

You take his hand and let him guide you to the dancefloor in the centre of the house, bodies upon bodies push up against each other in momentum to the song. Luke pulls you close to him, his hands on your hips and moving them with his own. You put your arms around his neck and pull him close, your faces close enough to feel his breath on your cheek.

You look around the room whilst dancing to see what everyone else is doing; Tara was talking to a girl from your classes, Chad was playing beer pong, and Mindy and Anika were already making out on the couch. You looked around subconsciously for Ethan, trying to find him through the crowd.

It was then that you caught his eyes, an ever present scowl across his features. Ethan was sitting on the nearest couch, someone was talking to him but all he could do was focus on you and how close you were to this random frat guy. The drink in his hand long forgotten, the red solo cup gradually getting squeezed harder and harder with every sway of your hips against the guy.

You don’t know what came over you, maybe it was the drinks in your system or the dark look Ethan was giving you, but you decided to put on a show. You turned around in Luke’s arms and pressed your back against his chest, moving your ass against his crotch. The infamous short skirt began riding up with every movement you were making, letting you get bolder and bolder.

You threw your head back and rested it on Luke’s shoulder, looking to the side to make eye contact with Ethan. You could see him shaking his head at you, obviously annoyed about something like he always is. He was leaning back on the couch, arms crossed against his chest, manspreading like owns the place.

Luke was gripping you harder, his breathing heavy as he groaned at your movement in your ear. You smiled to yourself for doing this to him, but you felt like it was all wrong, like he wasn't the person you wanted him to be.

“Can’t believe I haven’t seen you around before.” Luke’s voice was low, distracted by everything you’ve been doing.

You don’t reply, you felt mechanic against Luke, like his very touch made you feel wrong in every way. Your eyes kept drifting to Ethan, trying to peek at his reaction. The boy in question was now resting his elbows on his knees, bent over and giving every bit of his attention to what you were doing.

His jaw was tense, like he was going to crack a tooth from the pressure. His eyes were dark and focused, like nothing else in the world cared to him but watching you. The person next to him kept rambling on about whatever conversation they were previously on, but Ethan didn’t care.

Ethan didn’t know what was coming over him, it was like he was taken over by a force of anger and jealousy. Everytime he was with the group, you annoyed him to no end and he made sure you knew it. He never once thought of you in any way but the annoying girl in the group. But now, seeing you dance with another guy, all he wanted was to grab you and pull you onto the couch with him.

Luke’s lips attached themselves to your neck since you already had it stretched out trying to get a look at Ethan. His breath was hot and his lips felt weird on your skin, like he was trying too hard to make it sensual but it felt rushed and timid. You pretended to lean into it, like it was what you wanted.

That’s what set off Ethan.

He pushed himself off from the couch and made his way through the crowd, not even looking at the people he moved out of his way. You could feel him getting closer, like there was a pull he had on you and you could tell when he was away or too close.

A hand reached out and pulled you from Luke, earning a gasp from you and an annoyed yell from him. Ethan was gripping onto your arm like you were going to disappear, his eyes stared at you with disgust.

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” Luke threw his arms up, confused as to why someone would interrupt him.

“Don’t touch her.” Ethan stopped looking at you and turned his attention on the frat boy, yet his grip on your arm never ceased.

“Why? You her boyfriend or something?” Luke laughed, pushing Ethan’s chest.

“No, he’s not.” You tried to wiggle your arm out of Ethan’s hold but with every movement you made, his hold on you tightened. You’re sure that you’re gonna get bruises soon if he doesn’t let go.

Ethan sent daggers your way at your outburst, like it was anything far from the truth and he was surprised by it. Luke laughed at your reply and stepped closer to Ethan, challenging him.

“So what are you? Some sad friend that couldn't get any from her?” Luke’s voice was mean and his demeanour was scary, different from the charming way he was talking to you. It reminded you why you steer clear of guys like him at parties, and now Ethan’s hold was feeling a little more comforting.

Ethan didn’t say anything to Luke, instead he just turned to look at you. You looked back at him but you couldn’t describe the look in his eyes, like he had someone to tell you but couldn’t voice it.

“Let’s go.” His voice was small and quiet, but demanding.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Luke was looking at you expectantly, like he was waiting for you to shrug off Ethan.

You looked back at Ethan, he wasn't waiting for you to say anything, probably preparing to drag you away no matter what you said. You could feel some eyes on the three of you, watching to see what would happen. You turned to Luke and apologised before pushing on Ethan’s chest and taking him into the nearest private room.

You shut the door behind both of you, effectively shutting out the party and the music. You looked around the room, a small study with books lining the walls. It would be nice if you weren’t pissed off.

You looked at Ethan who could only look down at his feet, a wave of nervousness overtaking the confident facade he just had on.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” You tried to keep your voice down but the anger was bubbling over the surface.

Ethan didn’t even look at you, just shrugging his shoulders in response.

“You have been acting like a total dick all night, more than usual.” You continue, running your hands through your hair. “And now you’re being a dick to others, seriously? Why do you have to ruin everything good in my life?”

Still, no answer.

“Are you going to say something?”

It was a quick decision for Ethan, one that he's been wanting to do for ages but had only seemed to have gotten the courage to do it now. He made the few steps towards you, closing the gap and reaching up to cup your face, all before crashing his lips onto yours.

It was sudden, him pressing his lips onto yours. You wanted to fight, to push him away and tell him off. You wanted to tell him off for the whole night and all of his antics, but you stayed still and let him kiss you. It was hungry, feverish, like he was expecting you to push him away and he knew it was going to be the last time.

It wasn’t until you slipped your hands into his hair and pulled him closer that he finally relaxed, moaning into your mouth and pushing his body closer to yours. He backed you up against the door, pressing his hips to yours to cage you in.

You hated yourself for what you were doing, knowing that you might hate yourself in the morning. But right now, kissing Ethan, it was all you wanted.

“Couldn’t handle seeing you with that other guy.” He whispered against your lips, kissing you between almost every word.

You didn’t say anything, just wanting to live in this moment forever because you didn’t know how long it’ll last, he might start fighting with you as soon as you back away. You tugged on his curls, earning a groan from him and a thrust of his hips against yours. It was getting hotter and heavier every moment that your mouths were on each other, losing all thoughts of how much you were supposed to hate him.

“The only way I thought you’d look at me was if I was mean to you.” Ethan’s lips latched themselves onto your neck, sucking and biting every bit of skin he could get to. “But seeing you with him, I just wanted him to know that you’re mine.”

“Ethan.” It was like you were dumb, you couldn’t think of anything else but his mouth on your neck and his hands on your hips, gripping them as if you were going to run away.

“If you knew how much I wanted you, you would have ran away.” He was rambling, speaking to you as if you weren’t listening.

“I wanted you too.” Maybe it was the drinks or the dancing, but your tongue felt loose and you split every thought you had to him. “I did all of that for you.”

He couldn’t say anything else, too turned on by your words and your hands tugging on his hair. His hands moved down to your thighs, gripping the exposed skin and chuckling at how you were trying to stifle your moans. His hands trail upwards underneath the skirt and to your underwear, caressing your hips with his thumbs.

“This fucking skirt.” His mouth moved to hover just above yours, your neediness made it almost impossible to focus on his words. “I wanted to rip it off you the moment I saw it, tried blocking you from everyone on the street during the walk here.”

“Is that why you hate it?” You chuckled, caressing his cheeks and taking in how pretty he really was for the first time. “Because you love it so much?”

“I wanted to take you back into Tara’s room and show you a reason why you shouldn’t wear it.” His eyes were laser focused on you, you were almost scared to look away. “Now I guess I’ll have to show you here.”

“What do you mean?”

Before any more words could leave your mouth, Ethan’s thigh wedged its way between your legs, the rough material of his jeans pressing against the flimsy fabric of your thin underwear. Your moan caught you by surprise, Ethan grinned wildly at it and was determined to hear more,

“Want you to get off on my leg.” His voice was low and hesitant, like he was waiting to see how you would react to him being demanding with you when you would normally tell him off. But all you could do was nod and start grinding on his thigh, the jean material rubbing against your clit and causing you to go a little hazy.

Ethan was much taller than you so his thigh between your legs caused you to stand practically on your tippy toes, the only anchor you had was his shoulders. You nails dug into his skin through the fabric of his shirt, using them to help you drag your pussy over his thigh. The sensation was making you desperate, you could feel him flexing his thigh every time you moved your hips forward, making then feeling on your clit so much better.

“If only the group could see how needy you are for me.” Ethan’s hands were on your jaw, holding your head up so he could see your face properly, grinning to himself at how your face scrunches up every time your clit feels a particularly good part of his thigh. “They would be so surprised to know that all that hate you had for me was just masking your true feelings.”

“What feelings are those?” Your voice was breathy and almost silent, you had never felt like this before.

“The feeling of wanting to fuck me, wanting me to fuck you.” Ethan’s lips ghosted your cheeks, kissing them after every moan you tried to silence. “If only you told me earlier, baby, that you wanted me. I would have helped you out, I will do anything for you.”

You don’t know why but those words spurred you on, causing you to pick up your pace and grind yourself on his thigh faster. Ethan could see you needed help and placed his hands on your hips, ready to help you. But before he did anything, he stopped you, much to your dismay as you let him know with a needy whine.

“Tell me you want me.” His voice was no longer cute and joking, he was serious.

“Ethan.” You whined and tried to move your hips again, but his hold on you was too strong and bruising.

“Tell me that you’re mine.”

You looked at him, his eyes dark and tough. As much as you two bickered and fought, he had never looked at you like this, it scared you a little. But the way he was holding you, the words he was speaking, it was all so hypnotic that all you could do was follow his instructions.

“I’m yours, Ethan.” It scared you more that you knew you meant it, you had known it for a long time but this was the first time admitting it. “I have always been. Now please, make me feel good.”

The last part was what got Ethan, the desperation in your voice and the way your hands clung to his hair like he was all you needed in the world, it felt him with a sense of pride. His hands started moving your hips for you, helping you drag yourself over his thigh. It was all so delicious, the feeling of your own lace underwear and his rough denim on your sensitive clit, the groans he was letting go in your ear, his lips on your shoulder blade.

“You look so good, baby.”

You smiled at the compliment, biting your lip as your eyes closed. The sight made Ethan almost cum there, how happy and hot you looked riding his thigh. He could look at your face all day.

Then, Ethan picked up his pace, dragging your hips over him with a new found speed, added to the sensation of him flexing and bouncing his knee to stimulate your pussy even more. One of his hands left your hip and went under your top and bra, groping your boob and tugging your nipple.

It was all too much; the feeling of him on your clit, his cold fingers pinching your nipples and his mouth sucking hickies on your neck. You swore that if you had any thoughts apart from you and him, you would be embarrassed that the party was hearing how loud your moans were.

Ethan could tell you were getting closer from the tugging on his hair to the stuttered motion of your hips, you were starting to lose all control. Ethan crashed his lips back onto yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a messy show of dominance, wanting you to know who was making you feel this good.

“Come on, baby.” His breath was hot against your lips, and you couldn’t wait till he kissed you again. “I know you’re close.”

“Mhmm.” All you could to was whine, the feeling within you getting tighter and tighter the long you grinded on him. It wasn’t until Ethan took his hand from your hip and dipped it into your underwear, rubbing your clit in lazy circles and you feverishly thrusted against him

“Good girl.” He almost laughed at how whiney you were, so different to how mean you are to him in front of your friends. “Let go for me, let everyone know who’s making you feel good, yeah?”

The band within you snapped and you came with a cry on Ethan’s thigh and fingers, their own assault on you never ceasing and he continued to rub your clit and help you move your hips on him, allowing your orgasm to drag out.

He took in your face, so blissed out in ecstasy, he kissed you hard. You smiled into the kiss, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer, not wanting the moment to end. You were scared about what was going to happen when you got off his thigh and left the room; would you two go back to fighting as usual or did this spark some change within him.

“Come back to my dorm?” Ethan’s tone was now nervous and unsure, and yet his demeanour remind confident. “I wanna see you in my bed, naked. Be away from the crowd so you can chant my name.”

Ethan watched your face, waiting for you to say something, anything. He was nervous too that you were going to push him away and act like this was a one time thing, he wanted it to be more, for both of you to be more. Fighting with you was the only way he was able to get your full attention, and so he did it because he had no other choice. But now, knowing that you like him back, he wanted you to be his.

“Okay.” You looked up at him and touched his lip with your thumb, a soft gesture but it caused him to melt.

“Yeah?’ His smile was contagious, causing you to grin yourself.

“Yeah.”

#ethan landry smut #ethan landry #scream #scream 6 smut #scream 6 #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #scream imagine

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angelbarelywrites · 7 days

Text

♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping

♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol

anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.

You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.

You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.

“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”

You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.

You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.

“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”

He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”

Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.

#slashers #slashers x reader #slashers x you #thomas hewitt #tcm #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas brown hewitt #tcm 2006 #tcm 2003 #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #gender neutral reader #g/n reader

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asimpwithfreetime · 1 year

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May I please request a Yandere! Platonic Sully Family x Daughter! Reader fic? Where she’s Lo’ak’s younger twin and she’s very much like her dad’s twin Tommy. Maybe she’s the brains and would often be the mature one between her and Lo’ak? And they’re just protective over their baby girl. Was thinking of the fic showing what her life was like, like with all the scenes from the movie that were all family-focused up until they join the Metkayina and they learn their ways, maybe she gets some attention from boys of the Metkayina clan. Maybe she’s the one that gets shot and ALMOST dies and the family is just enraged and go on a killing spree with the RDA? And when she recovers she’ll be doted on?

I love the idea. In my whole life as a fanfic writer (I have another account we’re I’ve been writing since I was 12) I have never written platonic relationships so I don’t know how it is going to go. But I’ll try my best! I hope you like it.

It was going to be too much if I did everything that was asked there, so I just did the daily life of her with her family and what would happen if, once in the Metkayina clan, boys would flirt with her.

My family (Yandere! Platonic Sullys x younger daughter! Reader)

Pairings: ALL OF THEM PLATONIC. Yandere! Jake Sully x daughter! Reader, yandere! Neytiri x daughter! Reader, yandere! Neteyam x baby sis! Reader, yandere! Lo’ak x younger twin! Reader, yandere! Kiri x younger sister! Reader and Tuk x older sister! reader

Content warning: not proofread yet, English isn’t my first language

General warnings: Yandere actions, obsessive behavior, violence

[ 3rd person POV ]

The Sully family was well structured. Everyone had a role. Tuk was the only one that could do what she wanted. Apart from her, everyone’s role was to protect Y/n and be there for her. From Jake to Kiri, even her twin brother Lo’ak.

No one had made up that rule or spoken about it. They all got the idea the moment she opened her eyes for the first time.

She was a blessing from Eywa and her family loved her very much. So much that they had the feeling that they had to protect her until their very last breath.

She hadn’t noticed yet, but she had triggered the “yandere” gene in her family. In a platonic way, all they wanted was for her to love them as equally and to be protected.

Jake needed his goodnight cuddles with his baby or he felt sad and he begged Neytiri to tug Y/n into bed every night. Neytiri loved to teach her how to hunt and to protect herself. She felt proud of her baby, even though she would never let her go on her own.

Neteyam loved to have his little sister around. Cuddles were his favorite. But just having her in his line of vision was enough to keep him calm and collected. He also adored the way Y/n had him as her hero.

Lo’ak sometimes bickered with her, they were twins after all. But he knew how much he needed her, she had the brain and he had the muscle. He loved seeing her laugh when he said something funny.

Kiri enjoyed time alone with her sister as well. Kiri was far more introverted than the rest and she liked a good book an telling her sister curious things about Pandora.

Tuk was just happy that everyone loved Y/n and her. She was the real baby of the house.

Y/n, completely oblivious to all of this she was happy to have such a loving family. She loved each one equally and she enjoyed time with each of them. She didn’t see the arguments the siblings sometimes had over who would spend time with you that day. Usually if things got too serious Neytiri would intervene while Jake pulled you aside so you wouldn’t have to witness it.

Even if they loved each other, all of them longed to be the protector of Y/n. If something ever happened to her they would go completely crazy.

Changing homes wasn’t something easy for anyone, but they pulled their feelings away to take care of Y/n’s. Even though she assured them she was doing fine.

She flew in Jake’s ikran. She had one but the family thought it would be safer. A few hours before taking off they fought over who would hold you. Neytiri was going to go with Tuk so she acted as a mediator. Jake won being the dad.

Once in the Metkayina clan, all of the other Na’vi could see the circle that the family instinctively made around Y/n. Ao’nung and his friends had their eyes on her right away, they made Neteyam and Lo’ak give them death glares.

A few days into the clan, everyone was adapting just fine, on their own rhythm. Neteyam was sly and made Lo’ak go with Tsireya. He did find the young Metkayina cute, but he shouldn’t look anywhere but Y/n. What if she hurt herself? What if Ao’nung tried to harass her for having demon blood?

WHAT IF HE TRIED TO WOO HER?

Lo’ak’s blood boiled at the thought. No one was good enough for his sister.

“Teyam!” Y/n smiled from her ilu, she waved at her brother with a sweet smile and that beautiful nickname he loved. “Look!” She splashed around.

“Very good, Y/n!” He beamed at her. Rotxo stopped helping Neteyam for a moment. “If you want to get an ilu we should get further from them” he said. Neteyam shook his head. He needed to be close, otherwise something could happen to her.

And he would rather die before letting her alone with Ao’nung. “C’mon demon child, try to go into the sea with your ilu” he said with a mischievous smile. He was flirting with her, no doubt.

Neteyam’s expression darkened and soon Lo’ak joined him. “Are you trying to flirt with our baby sister?” Lo’ak said, getting awfully close to Ao’nung. “So what if I am?” The Metkayina taunted.

“This happens” Lo’ak said before punching him. Y/n’s eyes widened. “Lo’ak! Stop!” She said, she felt scared, she had never seen her brothers be violent with anyone.

“Come with me, Y/n” Neteyam ordered. The sweet tone king forgotten. Y/n did as told when he pulled her wrist. “Teyam! Why is he doing that?” She said getting further from the fight. They reached were Kiri was. “Take her to the hut” he informed. Kiri nodded. “Let’s go, you don’t wanna see that, do you?” She asked, raising a brow.

“No, of course not!” Y/n replied. When they got to the hut it was empty. The fight had gotten out of hand, Neteyam and Lo’ak were in bad condition, but Ao’nung and his other friends were worse.

Jake came into the hut first, looking awfully angry. “Now you two are going to explain to me WHY THE HECK YOO WERE FIGHTING RIGHT AFTER WE INSTALLED OURSELVES!” He roared to his two sons.

“Ao’nung was hitting on Y/n” Lo’ak informed. When he named her all of them looked at her. “Then good job son!” He said, his mood swinging completely.

“But dad! Fights aren’t good” Y/n tried to reason. Jake’s arms trapped her in a bear hug. “They were protecting you, baby. We all do. If they fight to keep you safe it is perfectly fine” he kissed the top of her head with love.

#yandere avatar #avatar neytiri #yandere avatar (james cameron)#kiri avatar #avatar headcanons #avatar 2 #avatar james cameron #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam #yandere neytiri #yandere jake sully #yandere #yandere neteyam #yandere Lo’ak

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ja3hwa · 6 months

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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟖: 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 - 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡

Planet 3564AB

【Synopsis】 : You're a Mercenary, searching for your next job in the galaxy. Little did you know, being stuck on a wateland planet was about to gift you more than just galactic credits.

『Word count』 : 1.51k

-> Genre: Sci-Fi. Smut. Poly.

Paring: Alien!Yunho x Mercenary!Reader

[Warnings] : Making out. Neck kisses. Unprotected sex. Anal. Lots of tentacle penetration. Multiple orgasms. Lots of bodily fluids. Dirty talk. Mention of Seonghwa and…laying eggs… I’m sorry, hehe. Hints of a poly relationship. Swearing.

Thank you, My Darling, @yourfatherlucifer, for requesting Yunho for this day. I hope you like it. ♡♡

Note: This is inspired by the amazing @sanjoongie and her absolutely filthy Alien fics she writes. I haven't written much along the lines of Alien/Sci-Fi aus, so her fics definitely helped in navigating the way of writing. (I think i still have a lot of learning with writing smut for aliens, ahah). She's such a kind person and a stunning writer, so please go check her stuff out. ♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

Stuck on a rogue planet, you had decided to explore some of the caves nearby for any type of supplies but you were at no luck. Your ship's engine had seemly malfunctioned from a strange goop from the waste landed planet's surface. But other than the odd glowing goo dripping from your ship, you didn’t see any on the floor or tailing anywhere. but you soon brushed it off, blaming it could be from the atmosphere, a small life form maybe? Or even something you could have picked up along the way and it’s only affected the machine now.

Either way, you looked around the planet and through an unsuccessful scavenge you found nothing of use to help you. You had called one of your teammates from the same clan as you, San. He said he and Wooyoung would come over from Planet Gem which is just under a day's trip, so it meant you’d been staying the night on this shit-forsaken wasteland. Watching the two bright pink suns slowly begin to set, you had made a border, or a guard of some sort to help protect yourself and most importantly your ship while you were asleep. You had no idea what might be lurking on this seemingly empty planet.

You shifted in and out of consciousness, trying to sleep but something felt off, like something was watching you. That you weren’t alone. You had decided the only way you were going to sleep was to do one more quick sweep of the ship even though you had done a sweep over four times already before going to bed. But one more time, you kept repeating to yourself. And by the time you came to your cock pit the last part of the ship you had still found nothing. the doors were locked and nothing seemed to be inside the ship. Yes maybe something could be wandering outside but you were safe… right?

You go to leave to pilot room but when you open the sliding door you're met with a large body running into you. Everything was happening so quickly that you couldn’t even see what had grabbed you. A wet lanky object wrapped around your ankle, holding you against your captain's chair while another smooth, long object held your wrists locking them above your head. You thrashed, trying to push the creature off you, fearing it might be here to kill you but as another lanky object glided over your navel, you knew what it wanted.

“G-Get off me!!” You try to throw the beast but it only chuckled, with a deep velvet voice. His blue-ish skin was caught in your view its dark eyes caught your attention. It was a man, well mostly. Soft and fair freatures of a handsome man stared at you for a moment, his sharp teethed smile making you shiver. His body was board and a slip-like opening was painting the middle of his chest. It was opened slightly, letting yet another Tentacle spill out making it grab your other ankle, now successfully holding you open for the creature to shift himself between your spread legs. His large hands took a handful of fabric from your sleep shirt, ripping it off without a thought. You gasp, feeling your bare chest being tickled by the cold air. Your nipples were achingly hard, his face dipped down latching onto your buds sucking in harshly while a socked tentacle wrapped around your other one pinching it. “Fuck!”

Your body was burning, slipping under the control of the creature. Your mind became so foggy all you could do was whimper, no longer fighting him. He seemed to notice kissing up your neck until he found your lips, locking his with your plump ones. His very long tongue explored your mouth, making you gag slightly as the wet appendage almost went down your throat. His fingers hooked under your sleep short ripping them apart along with your underwear. Tears swelled up on the corners of your eye, feeling his tentacles spread your ass cheeks while another one poked at your tight asshole. He pulled away letting you breathe, coughing out while your saliva dripped from your chin.

“I’m gonna fill you up. Breed you, my mate…hmm you smell so good.” The alien rambles repeating the words along the line of ‘breed,’ mate’, ‘fuck’. you weren't really paying attention, mind melting from the feeling of his appendages playing with your holes. His tentacle slipped inside your ass making you cry, having not prepped you properly. But the burn was so pleasurable you couldn’t complain. He fucked you fast, making you feel like you were going to tip over the edge. Your hazy eyes watching him sit up slightly, watching his tentacle fuck you. He was groaning at the sensation of your tight ass wrapped around him. Another wet limb slipped out of the gap in his chest moving down to snake around his cock. Pumping him in time with him fucking your ass. His fingers pinched your clit while the other free one squeezed your breast. The feeling was enough to send you over the edge, coming around nothing. While squirting on him. He bit his lip coming also all over your tummy and chest while his tentacle empty his load in your ass as well. You were covered in his seed, while he was soaked in your juices. But that didnt stop him. He needed more.

“I’m gonna breed you now, my mate.” He moaned, placing his hands on either side of your hips, lifting you up so your back laid awkwardly on the large chair and your feet dangled on either side of his huge body. His cock inches inside you in one clean motion while his tentacle had stayed still deep in your other tight hole, holding your ass cheeks apart. He thrust in a quick snap, making you gasp for air. His cock was just what your body needed. He watched you intensely, your mouth agape and mind gone. Your body was his to use as he pleased. All of his wet limbs could have their fun, filling all the holes they could find. Two in your ass, one slipping into your mouth making you lazily suck to and another two slipping slowly into your soaked cunt beside his cock filling you more than you’d ever been before.

“Fuck, Fgmnng mnnyu…” You rambled against his long wet appendage, making the alien grin. You were so full of him and he was living for every moment.

“You gonna cum baby? Hmm? Come on, make a mess on my cock.” the snap of the creature's hips sent your body into overdrive, making you squeeze his cock, coming down fast from your high. Your cunt clenched milking him for every drop he had, as he also came inside your ass and mouth, successfully filling you in every hole. His grip loosened, and all his limbs left you, making you feel empty. His tentacles unbound themselves from your wrists and ankles, letting your aching body sit upright on the defiled captain's chair. You rubbed your wrists while catching your breath, watching all the alien's tentacles slip back into the opening in his chest before he seals shut. You clicked your tongue, leaning back.

“What have I told you about stowing away on my ship,” you said sternly in between pants, but in truth, you were to mad at him.

“Seonghwa got to lay his eggs with you just before you left and I didn’t have time to tell you about the mating season. So I thought the logical to just come with you…” He spoke rather fast, “To be fair I didn’t know how long you were going to be and I didn’t want to spend it with Mingi again…” There was nothing wrong with Mingi, in fact, he loved the Altean but he needed his mate. You sighed, knowing the journeys you take sometimes last longer than anticipated but still, he didn’t need to hide away and goop your ship engine up just to fuck you.

“Okay…But just so you know, San and Wooyoung will be here from first light to bring supplies to fix what you damaged…” you crossed your arms over your bare chest feeling the stickiness of his seed. God, you needed a shower.

“Well then, let's shower and fucks some more before they arrive I’m sure once they smell my scent on you they’ll want a parting gift before they go back to base..” like he had read your mind, he wiggled his eyebrows, picking you up so your legs would wrap around his hips.

“You’re going back with them you realize. I’m warning you.” you groaned at him, resting your head on his chest as he walked to the shower bay. He kisses the top of your head before chuckling;

“I like to see you try.”

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 9 days

Text

Most Wanted (Mafia Boss!Toji x Spy!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me."

*IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK CONTAINS R*PE & NONCON SEXUAL ACTS. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS AND READ LIGHTLY.

Pairing: Toji Fushigiro x Self-Insert!Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You’re a highly skilled hitwoman. You’ve been doing this for years–getting paid to take hits on the wealthy and corrupt at your agency’s order. You figure taking a hit on the renowned Tokyo mafia boss Toji Fushigiro won’t be any different. However, things take a terrifying turn for you, and your skills are put to the test when you go undercover as a dancer at his favorite club and give him a private dance. But instead of killing you, Toji takes it upon himself to punish you and show you what happens when you fuck with him.

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+; Porn with Plot; Physical Fighting; Gun Play; Knife Play; Noncon/R*pe; Forced Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Forced Orgasm; Lap Dancing/Pole Dancing; Doggystyle; Spit Play; Degradation + Praise; Rough Sex; Choking; Hair Pulling; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Some Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Here you go lovely!! @curiouscutie143 I hope you & everyone other toji lovers enjoy this. I had so much fun writing this & I tried to make it as nasty as I could lol. I may write another mafia!toji thing in the future just cuz this shit was soooo fun. Enjoy! -Jazz

*********

“Peaches, you’re needed in the backrooms.”

You resist the urge to smile as you turn around from your seat at the bar, sipping on some water after your dance and sweet-talking a middle-aged bank broker into his pockets. It’s important to keep up the facade.

“Comin’,” you tell your coworker and turn to the broker who looks ready to dive into your cleavage.

“Sorry, but I’ve gotta run,” you sigh, acting apologetic. He frowns at you, making the wrinkles and lines in his face more evident. “But this shouldn’t take too long. Find me afterward?”

The broker puts his hand on yours, accidentally using the hand his gold marriage band sits on. “You’ve got it, baby,” he purrs. “I’ve got some dollars just waitin’ on ya.”

He gives you a wink before polishing off his whiskey and walking away from the bar, leaving you to breathe and collect your thoughts. You turn to the bottle girl, waving her down. “One shot of Patron, please!” you yell above the music blaring from the overhead speakers. She nods, scurrying to fetch you a much-needed shot. It will be the first alcoholic drink you’ve had since your shift started.

You suddenly hear a buzz from your right ear and instantly put your hand up against it under your hair. “V,” a gruff voice says into your earpiece. “Come in, V. It’s been 20 minutes since we last talked. Did you get him yet?”

You scan the upscale strip club pulsing with purple and red strobe lights and booming with activity: businessmen and regular-degular customers tossing money at the dancers on stage who spin around poles and do splits in their thongs and heels.

“Target was sighted five minutes earlier, sir,” you whisper into the earpiece given to you by your agency. “He is currently in the backrooms waiting for me. He came alone. He made eye contact with me ten minutes ago, so he may be asking for me.”

More like you made eye contact with him and had been since he walked in. He is impossible to miss with how tall and buff he is. His black V-neck tee stuck to his pectorals and abs while his jeans hung low on his hips.

You had expected he’d be flashier with his wealth by wearing obvious designer clothing, but you figured that he had to keep a low profile as well. Beneath the V-neck that hung from his neck, you could see the tattoos that roped over his chest just like his arms. The healed scar at the corner of his smirk as his green eyes scanned the place over told you that this was, indeed, your target.

He stood between two bodyguards in suits half his size, giving off an intimidating aura, especially with the guns at their hips. But you’d expect nothing less from Toji Fushigiro, Tokyo’s most notorious mafia boss.

He is powerful. He is wealthy. He is known throughout Tokyo and Japan for being the head of Tokyo’s infamous mafia gang, the spot being passed down by his father. He is also a criminal. White-collar crime, organized crime, drug trafficking––you name it, Toji does it.

He is also known for his scare tactics on those who owe him a debt. He’s held man over bridges, threatening to drop them in the murky waters below. He’s pistol-whipped. He’s choked. He’s stomped. He’s jumped guys in alleyways and left them for dead. He is a man of his word. If he tells you he’ll fuck you up if you don’t give him his money in a certain amount of time, he’ll do it.

He is the number one man current on your hitlist…and your agency’s. They knew it was a good idea to employ you, their top hitwoman, to Toji’s favorite club to take him out for good. Though he didn’t show up when you started at the club a couple of weeks ago, you knew it was only a matter of time until he showed up.

And now, he is. As soon as he was in the club, everyone’s eyes were on him. Dancers scurried to the pole and backstage to change into their best outfits to milk him out of his pockets. Bartenders and bottle girls quickly wiped down counters and took care of customers as quickly as possible so they could tend to him. Your manager barreled toward him with complimentary champagne and a spot in the VIP section.

As Toji walked with your manager, your eyes met across the room. They met again while he sat in the VIP section when he should’ve been watching a dancer twirl around the pole in front of him. Both times were fleeting, but they affected you completely. His green eyes, like mirrors to a forest, sent chills down your spine and made your stomach flip. His gaze was intense. Intimate. His eyes made it hard to relax or act like a normal dancer working her shift at the club.

He seemed to know what he was doing to you or he was sizing you up because he would simply smirk and sip on his whiskey on the rocks and puff on his cigar, his soft lips forming Os and blowing the smoke into the strobe-lit air. You can understand why so many women fell for him, but you aren’t one of them. The tiny gun strapped to your hip proves it.

Your real boss sighs in relief. “Excellent work,” he praises. “Unfortunately, we can’t see what you’re doing from over at headquarters and we’re still working on connecting the audio to hear what’s happening around you, so just fill us in on what you do next until then. All you have to do now is walk back there and complete the mission as we discussed.”

You toss an arm over the bar, stretching your coffin-shaped nails along the polished bar. “Of course,” you reply with a smirk. “Don’t I always?”

The bartender returns with your shot and you down it at once, relishing the burn and the way it loosened you right up. “I’ll keep you informed,” you say. “Just stay near the phone.”

“Be careful,” your boss says before the line cuts. You check your makeup in the bar before you get up from the bar and strut over to your beautiful, blonde coworker in her red lingerie and heels. “Hey, Yuki,” you greet her.

She smiles at you and guides you to the backrooms where the wealthier customers usually take the girls to get a dance…or something more. Sexual exchanges aren’t allowed, but the manager never complains if they bring in more money. You and Yuki peer down the hallway to the double doors of a private room where Toji’s bodyguards stand.

“Why the guards?” you ask, pretending to be confused. “Is the President here or somethin’?” Yuki turns you to face her, her eyes wide. “Even bigger,” she replies. “He’s the hot guy with the scar who comes in here often. He’s a mafia boss, apparently. Super hot, but very powerful. The bossman gave him his pick of any girl he wanted and he picked you.”

You do your best to hide your smirk. You knew you had him. “Me?” you ask breathlessly. “Why me?” Yuki shrugs, just as clueless. “Don’t know, but I was sent out to fetch you. He’s willin’ to pay double the amount of a regular lapdance, but he didn’t say if he wanted it topless, naked or not.” She gives you a worried look, furrowing her blonde brows. “You sure you up for it, hon?” she asks. “I know you’ve taken high rollers before, but he ain’t even a high roller! He’s beyond that!”

To sell it even more, you bite your lip, acting nervous but intrigued. “I can do it,” you reply. “Just hold my hand when you walk me in there.” Yuki obliges and squeezes your hand as you begin to walk toward the guards, heels clicking across the floor.

“Target is in sight,” you whisper into your earpiece, turning away from Yuki and putting your mouth in your arm to muffle your voice. “I’m walkin’ to the backrooms now where he’s located.”

“Excellent, V!” your boss says. “Just do it as we discussed. Don’t falter, don’t yield, and don’t lose focus.” The three rules of being a spy. You never forgot them. Finally, you come to the guards and Yuki smiles up at them. “I’m here with Peaches,” Yuki announces. “The girl Mr. Fushigiro asked for.”

You plaster a bright, charming smile on your face. It must work because the guards budge and step out of the way for you. One of them opens the door for you and Yuki, holding it. “Step in,” he orders. You thank him and scurry inside the dimly lit room with an included mini-bar, a single stripper pole, and leather lounging couches. Toji currently sits in one of them, legs spread and eyes hooded as he puffs on a blunt and sips on his drink.

His green eyes pierce into your very soul when he eyes you in the doorway. “Here she is, sir,” Yuki says. “Just as you requested. And she’s just as pretty as I told you she is.” She moves your hair out of your face, exposing your pretty false flashes, Fenty Beauty gloss, and accentuated features to the boss.

Toji hums, liking what he sees. “Yes, she is,” he agrees. “Tell your boss thanks. He can expect some good business out of me once the night is through.” Yuki nods and gives your arm a squeeze. “Good luck,” she whispers before heading off. The doors close and you are left alone with your hit.

Neither one of you moves toward the other, staying posted to your spots. Toji takes a puff on his blunt and lights taps it above the ashtray next to him. “Y’know, you’re mighty pretty up close,” he purrs. “I’ve been wonderin’ what you’d look like up close instead of across the room.”

You finally look at him, noticing how big he is even sitting down. “So you’ve been watchin’ me tonight?” you ask. He nods, his eyes trailing down your form. “I knew I hadn’t seen ya before,” he continues. “I come here often and I would’ve remembered seein’ a face and a rack like that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Charmer, aren’t you?” you sarcastically question.

He smirks at your wittiness. He likes that bite in a woman. “When I wanna be, but you’ll have to forgive me; the liquor makes me bolder than I already am.” His tongue jets out to lick his lips. “But you’ve gotta give a guy credit for bein’ honest and that lil’ outfit don’t leave much to the imagination.”

You go to wrap your arms around yourself but then stop. You need to sell this and if you’re forced to stand here in a mini dress that barely covers your ass or titties with heels that could crush a bitch in front of your hit who also happens with me enticingly sexy, then so be it. Toji’s gaze softens somewhat, noticing your discomfort. “You are very beautiful, Peaches,” he genuinely says. “Is it okay if I use your name?”

“Thank you, Mr. Fushigiro,” you softly reply. “And no, it’s fine. It’s what I’m known as around here anyway. I started here five weeks ago.” He nods, sipping on his whiskey. “Call me Toji.”

“Toji,” you parrot, slowly striding towards the pole in the middle of the room, an overhead speaker playing soft R&B overhead. “You’re quite the man. The entire club seems to be in a frenzy over you.”

His smirk widens, proud and cocky. “They always are,” he chuckles. “Don’t know why. This place gets plenty of people bigger than me all the time, especially international celebs. I heard Drake was here not too long ago.” You give a dry “mm-hmm” as you grasp the pole. Toji takes that answer another way. “What, you don’t like Drake?” he snorts.

“He’s okay,” you reply, short and impatient. “So what are you here for? To talk or to watch me dance?” You wrap a hand around the pole and pop your hip out, waiting for him to give you an order.

“Depends.” He sits up, leaning forward to get a better look at you. “What are you willin’ to do tonight for me? ‘Cause we can just sit here and talk. I wouldn’t mind hearin’ that pretty voice all night.” His green eyes gleam with mirth and a small hint of lust.

“Definitely a charmer,” you chuckle. “That’s fine if you’re willin’ to pay, though we don’t have a rate for conversation.”

He laughs at this, the sound deep and raspy yet pleasant to the ear. He takes another puff on his blunt before he lowers it down onto the ashtray. “Then let’s cut to the chase,” he sniggers. “It’s $500 for a 10-minute dance, right? I want 20 minutes, so that would make…”

He begins to count on his fingers but then stops. “A lot,” he chuckles. “I’ll probably ask for you to strip though. Are you okay with that, Peaches?”

You feel something flip inside of you at the mention of all of that money and how passive he is about it. Any girl working here would do whatever he wanted for 20 minutes! “I’m a stripper,” you reply passively. “What else am I gonna do?”

Toji tsks, grimacing at you. “Damn, what kinda attitude is that?” he laughs. “A beauty like you should be more adamant about showin’ off her body. Can I offer you a drink to get you in the mood?” He nods at the mini bar overflowing with bottles of tequila, vodka, and liquor.

“I don’t drink on the job,” you reply. “Music helps.” You suddenly hear a buzz in your ear and then your boss’ gruff voice: “Give me the rundown, V,” he demands.

You want another drink?” you ask. You nod at Toji’s empty glass and he agrees, so you walk over to the bar. To him, you’re seemingly looking for a bottle of whiskey, bent down to look through the racks. “With the target now,” you whisper. “Just waiting for the right time to attack. Give me a second.”

Once the line goes dead, you walk back over to Toji and pour him a bottle. As you bend down, you give him an ample view of your titties much to his enjoyment. As you do, you slip the gun out of your dress and place it under the couch where only you can find it. Once done, you leave the bottle with him, and step back, hands on your hips. He sits back against the couch, preparing for the show. “Whenever you’re ready, darlin’,” he purrs, his eyes filled with obvious lust and attraction.

With a slow song playing above and the lights dipping into an almost ominous red shade, you begin to move to the beat. You roll your hips, swaying them side to side and front to back, almost as if you’re grinding on Toji despite him being several feet away from you. You let the music take control of you as you grasp the pole and begin to grind against it, dipping low to wind your ass in his face.

You do a few tricks on the pole for him–jumping and spinning around it, your thighs wrapped tight around the metal pole; squatting and lifting up your dress to bounce your ass, etc.–before you turn to look at him over your shoulder, flipping your hair. Toji’s eyes are hooded and lustful, all from the weed, the whiskey, and the effect you’re having on him. Despite the situation, it feels good to have an attractive man ogle at your plump frame.

“Take off the dress,” he demands, a slight growl in his voice. You don’t turn to face him, instead still facing the wall as you carefully unzip the back of your dress. The thin piece of clothing falls off of your body, revealing all of your rolls, curves, and the matching glittery bra and thong set.

“Shit!” Toji hisses, ogling at your asscheeks in your glittery thong. “Your back don’t hurt carryin’ that around?”

You finally turn around and find him leaning forward, his hands clenching his thighs. “You don’t look like you’re ready,” you giggle, winding your hips and toying with your titties in their cups. “Did you talk too much big game, Toji?”

The boss looks like he can’t even speak, his scarred lips parted as he stares you down. “Goddamn,” he hisses. “How some horny fuck didn’t propose to you and steal you out of here yet is beyond me.”

You give a light, tittering laugh, smiling down at him. “Well, if someone did that, I wouldn’t be here with you.” He looks happy with that response. You then twist around and bend over for him, giving him a full view of your full, round, perfect ass. “Can you handle it, baby?” you purr. “Can you handle me?”

You quickly pop up and turn around, finding him shifting in his seat and gritting his jaw. “I should be askin’ you that,” he growls. “Come the fuck here.” Deciding not to tease him any longer, you strut over to him, feeling sexy and irresistible. It’s strange that the same man you were sent to kill is doing this to you.

His eyes have grown several shades darker, reminding you of the deepest, darkest parts of a jungle. “Dance for me,” he demands. “Not on the pole; on me.” He opens his legs wider for you and pats his lap, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Though clients often get handsy when dancers give them lapdances here, you decide that it’s best to do as he says.

Plus, you’d be lying if you said that you aren’t curious to feel him for yourself. So you place your hands on his thick, muscular highs and begin to roll your body before squatting down, popping up between his legs. You reach up to drag your palms and long nails down his chest, feeling up his abs and toned stomach. He allows it, staring down at you with a look that would make a nun blush.

You then stand up between his legs before turning around and lowering yourself down into his lap. “Shit,” he whispers, watching the way you work your ass along his lap and the jean-clad bulge that has begun to make an appearance. You twerk and bounce on top of him before he takes a drag of his blunt, blowing the air away from you. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks, his lips close to your ear now.

Your body grows hot from him being so close, the attraction ironically magnetic. Slowly, you shake your head and Toji chuckles, adoring your mix of cute and sexy. “C’mere.” You lean back and tilt your head up while he takes another puff of his blunt. He holds the marijuana smoke before puckering his lips up and leaning down as if to kiss you. Slowly, the smoke travels from his lips to yours in an indirect kiss that leaves you breathless and your head dizzy.

You can’t deny it: you’re wet. Your pussy has never been this wet for any man before…and he’s the enemy! Toji seems to feel it too judging by the hard-on you can feel pressing into your thigh. You shift onto his knee and begin grinding your ass back, doing your best to not grind your pussy against his thigh.

“So you got a name other than that stripper shit?” he randomly asks you. You are immediately taken out of your lustful haze, remembering why you’re here. “I don’t remember us talkin’ about personal shit,” you dryly reply. “I don’t give my real name out to men I don’t know.”

Then, for the first time tonight, Toji touches you. His big hand lowers onto your thigh and squeezes. You don’t try to move it but you are alarmed. “Oh, but you do know me, darlin’,” he replies, digging his fingers into your flesh. “And I know you, V.”

At the mention of your real name, you freeze. The world freezes with you, everything seeming to cease their existence including the music that continues to play overhead. But you don’t hear it. All you can hear is your own blood pumping loudly in your eardrums. Toji releases you and you quickly jump off of him, turning toward him.

He just sits there staring at you, a humorous smirk playing on his lips. The smile is no longer attractive to you anymore. Suddenly, you feel disoriented. You feel like you may vomit or drop to the floor in your heels. Your earpiece buzzes to life again in your ear. “V!” your boss calls. “We just got the audio working again. What’s happening?” He sounds panicked, just as much as you are.

Toji bares his pearly whites at you as he calmly reaches for his whiskey. “Ah, now them wheels are turnin’ in that pretty little head,” he chuckles. “You know, you dance almost as good as you lie. I can see why you were put here to go undercover.” He takes a sip and licks the remnants away from his top lip, still staring you down.

“Ain’t that right?” he asks and it feels like a snake has just silvered up your back and sunk its teeth in you, paralyzing you.

“Y/N, he knows!” your boss hisses. “Stand down! Don’t do anything stupid!” He continues to yell and scream at you about aborting the mission and telling you that someone will be there soon, but you can’t quite hear him. It’s like you’re underwater and he’s standing above ground, his voice muffled and murky.

For a few seconds that seem like a lifetime, you and Toji stare each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Your body kicks into fight or flight, the freeze stage having already been awakened. Inisctively, you shift into fight mode. Quickly, you take the bottle of whiskey and bring it down towards Toji’s head, but he catches your wrist like it’s nothing.

You grunt, wincing at the pain of his grip. “Oh, you wanna play, huh?” he cackles. “Goin’ against your boss’ little rules just to take me out? How cute.”

With a wail of effort, you swing your other hand at his head but he catches that too. Counting on this, you bring your leg up and kick him hard in the groin. He immediately releases you and lurches forward, holding his junk, giving you a chance to grab your gun from under the couch.

“Don’t move,” you growl, cocking the gun at him. “You move and I’ll shoot.”

Toji, red in the face and panting, glares up at you. “Please,” he scoffs. “You act like you’re the first bitch that’s put a gun to my head.” Before you can blink, he is swinging the bottle at you. You duck which is a mistake because Toji uses that opening to tackle you to the ground. You struggle and growl, turning into an animal as he wrestles with you for your gun.

He ends up winning, flipping you over and pinning you down to the floor with his body. “Get off!” you scream, still wriggling around. “Get off me!” Click. The barrel of your gun presses to your temple. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll make you regret it,” he growls.

His fingers move your hair back away from your ear and pry the earpiece out of your ear. He snarls at it as if it’s nothing but a bug. “God, they made these things so much smaller now.” He stands up, keeping the gun on you, and stomps on the earpiece, breaking it. “Whoops!” he mockingly says. “They should still be able to find ya though. I don’t plan on movin’ ya to another location…if you don’t piss me off.”

The gun clicks again. “Turn around slowly,” he demands. Despite your reluctance to do so, you slowly turn around and face him, lying on your back with your own shit pointed at you as Toji stands above you. “How did you know?” you whisper.

He smirks, appearing like the Devil in your eyes. “It wasn’t hard, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Dancers don’t eye me up the way you were. You looked like you were out for blood, not dollars. Not to mention the gun I saw at your hip.” You flush, cursing yourself. You should’ve been smarter. Of course, he would know. He spends his days having people hunt him down.

His smirk fades, his expression darkening. “Who sent you?” he demands. “And don’t lie. You don’t wanna know what I do with liars.” The gun cocks, his finger trained on the trigger. You glare at him, hating his guts even more than you had before you met him. So you weakly confess. He guffaws, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, those guys? They’ve been after me for years!”

“You’re a criminal,” you hiss despite the gun in your face. “You only got this far because of you dippin’ your hands in crime and gettin’ blood on your fists. I’m here to stop you.”

Toji’s brows raise in shock though he’s intrigued by your stubbornness. He squats down in front of you, still pointing the gun at your head. “And how are you gonna do that, huh, little girl?” he asks.

Not even thinking, you hollow your lips and wallop a glob of spit in Toji’s handsome face before quickly turning over and scrambling to the door. However, Toji is just as fast and has his big, tatted arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You can’t elbow him anywhere because your arms are stuck in his, leaving you to kick and wriggle.

“Oooh, I love a feisty bitch,” he chuckles. “Makes it a lot more fun to break ‘em.”

He begins to walk with you over to a nearby wall and slams you against it, knocking the air out of your lungs. You find yourself pressed against the wall and him who is equally as hard and unmoving as the solid wall against your front.

He shoves the side of your face into the wall while he pins your arms behind your back, causing your muscles to explode with pain at being stretched back too far. “Get off!” you cry. “O-Ow, that hurts!”

Toji tugs on your arms again, emitting a weak whine of pain from you. “That’s what you get for fuckin’ with me,” he growls. “Now what should I do with you? Kill you? Leave your agency to find you here?” The gun once again presses against your temple, cold and unrelenting.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears pushing back the ducks. You can’t beat this. You can’t fight this. “Do it,” you sob. “Just do it!” You go limp against him, waiting to feel that bullet penetrating your skull and for the void to come to collect you…but instead, Toji takes the gun away from you, leaving an indent on your temple. “No,” he says. “I’ve got a better idea.”

You open your eyes, confused but also scared. What else is he planning to do with you? Before you can answer, you hear the undeniable sounds of his zipper coming down and the clinking of his metal belt buckle. Your body instant seizes, fear flooding your insides.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me. Tonight, babydoll, you’re mine. You don’t have a choice. You’re mine and I’m gonna show you what that means.”

With his belt finally in his hands, he trains the gun on you. “Put your hands against the wall and stick that ass out,” he demands, his voice void of all emotion. “Do it now.” Outnumbered and out of tricks, you do as he says, trembling as you do so.

“Bad girls like you need to be punished,” he says before the belt comes down hard onto your right asscheek. WHACK! The sharp sound of the leather hitting the soft, jiggly flesh of your ass penetrates the air. It feels like fire has licked your skin and your knees buckle at the pain. “Ow!” you cry out.

Toji cackles at your agony, finding enjoyment and cuteness in it. “What, that hurt?” he laughs. “You don’t like the pain? I’m sure a girl like you has taken plenty of worse things before.” He raises his arm and whips the same cheek twice.

WHACK! WHACK! You flinch at each sharp hit, each one becoming more painful than the last. “Hurts, don’t it?” he snickers. “Don’t you regret pullin’ that shit with me now, babydoll, hm?”

He then proceeds to whip your left cheek, not allowing you any time to recover or breathe.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! You bite your lip so hard that you nearly draw blood, the burning of your backside too much to bear. “S-Stop!” you whine. “Please stop!”

Toji’s big hands wrap around your mouth, covering it. “Don’t speak,” he whispers into your ear, his breath the scent of whiskey and mint. “You don’t get to speak. Just take it.” You have no choice but to do so as he wails on your ass again and again, the leather cracking like fire against your jiggly ass. “God, that recoil,” he groans. “I’m gonna enjoy my time with you, baby doll.”

You don’t answer, too busy holding back tears that have begun to push at your eye sockets. Toji finally stops and tosses his head back to laugh. “Are you cryin’?” he laughs in disbelief. “Damn, and all from some spankings? And here I thought you were this tough bitch.”

You burn with resentment and humiliation, but all of that is pushed aside when he forces you to stand up straight and tugs your arms behind your back. You begin to panic but don’t say anything as he tightens his belt around your wrists and locks the belt buckle around them. “Turn around,” he finally says.

Despite your tiny sobs, you do so and face him. His eyes are hooded and dark with obvious lust for you. He uses one big hand to force you onto your knees, right in front of his open fly and hard cock that you can see pressing against his designer briefs. “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about,” he growls. He points the gun at your face, specifically at your lips. “Open your mouth and suck on it.”

His expression, dark and chilling you to the bone, makes you feel as if you don’t have a choice..and not the loaded gun pressing to your lips. Swallowing hard, you shakily open your mouth and he slides the pistol in. The metal feels cold and hard in your mouth, making you cringe. “That’s it,” Toji chuckles. “Take that shit, baby. C’mon, don’t you wanna please me?”

Slowly, you begin to suck, hollowing your lips out against the gun. Though you tremble and shake, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine the gun as a hard, warm, throbbing cock instead. Toji moans as if you’re sucking on him, watching your tongue swirl along the barrel and your head bob.

“Fuck, baby doll,” he groans. “You’ve got such a mouth on ya.” He slides it in further, the metal scraping against your teeth, until he reaches your throat. You gag and try to pull away, but Toji grips the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, mama,” he snickers. “You don’t get to get outta this. C’mon, just open your throat and breathe through your nose. You can do it.” He continues to push and pull, the gun sliding in and out of your mouth, while you struggle to breathe. You can feel sweat pool under your pits and between your cleavage all from your fear. Toji’s finger isn’t on the trigger anymore, but it doesn’t matter. He could change that in a second.

So you suck and you slurp and you bob your head up and down like a good little slut, staring him into his eyes while spit drips from your lips. Finally satisfied, Toji pulls the gun out of your lips now coated in your saliva. “You fuckin’ slut,” he pants. “Now I need to try ya out for myself.”

He pockets the gun and, with one hand, pulls down his briefs. His big, long, throbbing, veiny, perfect-looking dick springs to life. It damn near hits you in the face, making you gasp. “Sorry, mama,” he chuckles. “He just likes you.”

He wraps a hand around his 12-inch dick, pumping it lewdly in your face. “So you finna stare at it or suck it?” he deadpans, but he doesn’t wait for you to answer or recover.

“W-Wait,” you stammer.

That’s all you get to say before his cock is pushing between your lips and into your mouth. He releases a moan when he first slides into your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your wet mouth, soft lips, and tongue wrapping around him. Meanwhile, you’re struggling to take him. His girthy dick stretches out your jaw and your throat as he pushes himself in deep.

“C’mon, babydoll,” he chuckles. “That can’t be all you can take of me.” He continues to push, filling your tongue and nostrils with the scent and taste of him. The walls of your throat have no choice but to accommodate his size though it burns and you gag as he begins to slowly yet roughly thrust into your mouth. “Maybe this will help ya out,” he says. Suddenly, he retrieves a pocket knife from his pocket and flicks it open.

Fear flares into your stomach, making you want to jump away, but his large hand keeps you locked down on his cock. He presses the knife to your throat, chuckling as he does. “Careful now,” he warns. “You lean too close and that pretty neck might get sliced. I just wanna encourage you to do a good job.” He grips your hair and wrenches it up to look at him. “And you will do a good job for me, won’t you?” he asks.

His tone makes it so you can’t refuse, so you say yes and allow him to force your head back down onto his cock before pulling it back. He does that for a while––pushing and pulling your head down onto his dick like you’re his toy while he uses your sloppy, wet mouth like it’s a fleshlight. “Fuck!” he shouts to the ceiling. “This fuckin’ mouth is heaven, baby. I hope your pussy is just as tight as your tight ass throat.”

You gargle and mumble on his cock, causing pleasurable vibrations to travel throughout his body and his heavy balls that drip with your saliva. He continues to fuck your face and ruin your makeup, marveling at how beautiful you look choking on his cock. “Look at you, you little slut,” he dreamily sighs. “Makeup all fucked up. Hair ruined. You’re just a little mess for me, aren’t ya?”

He slides his cock out of your throat and you take a grateful gulp of air, strands of your hair stuck to your wet lips and chin. He takes the knife and slides it along your chin, smirking down at you. “Now it’s my turn to taste you,” he murmurs. Before you can protest, he is picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder, and placing you on your stomach with your arms still tied behind you.

“Please!” you sob, beginning to cry again. Toji straddles your ass, one hand massaging the globes of fat in your thong while the other holds his knife. “Please what, baby?” he mockingly coos. “I ain’t even touch you yet.” You then feel the cool metal of the knife dragging up your spine, sending shivers down your spine. “Time to get your sexy ass out of these fuckin’ clothes,” he growls.

You flinch when you feel the knife drag up to your left shoulder where it cuts the bra strap. He does the same to your left one before positioning you onto your knees with your wrists slung over the couch arm. Your tits are now exposed, hanging like ripe, juicy fruit beneath you. Then off comes your thong with two swipes of the knife cutting through the thin straps. You sob helplessly as the cool air touches your sodden, wet pussy.

“Damn, baby!” Toji cackles. “Are you wet from all this? You naughty little girl.” His middle and forefingers gently probe your entrance and slide up and down your slit, dragging unwanted moans out of you. “I’m gonna have some fun with you,” he chuckles. “Make sure you never forget about me.”

He then bends you over the couch and proceeds to put his hot, wet, experienced mouth on your pussy while the knife stays pressed against your thigh. You whine at the feeling of his soft lips and tongue swirling along your clit and every sensitive part of you, opening your pussy up to more of him. He drowns in your pussy, pushing his face into it as far as he can and letting his tongue do all of the talking.

You can’t stop the moans and gasps that escape you. The pleasure is just too much and too good! What a shame that a man who is so good at eating kitty is the same man you were sent here to kill. “Toji,” you moan, using his name for the first time ever. “Please…please!”

Toji’s one hand massages and smacks your ass, becoming aoslutely obessed with it. “What do you need, babydoll?” he coos against your clit. “You need somethin’?” You nod helplessly though you have no clue what you need at this point. “Tell me you’re mine then,” he growls. “Say it and fuckin’ mean it. Say you’re my good little slut.”

You keep your lips clamped tight, not wanting to swallow your pride or give up that tiny part of you that hates him still. SPANK! Your ass stings from his assault on your ass, his hand no doubt leaving a handprint. “Say it!” he bellows.

At the blinding pain, pleasure, and delirium, you break. “I’m yours!” you sob. “I’m your good girl! Your good little slut! I’m everything you want me to be!”

Toji, pleased, presses soothing kisses to your burning asscheek. “Good girl,” he praises. “See how easy that was? Now you get your reward.” Suddenly, you feel his thick cock smack against your pussy once, twice, three times and then he is sliding home inside of you.

Your mouth goes slack and your eyes grow wide as he begins to rocks his hips into, allowing you to get used to him. He is big. You can feel him stretching out every part of your cunt as he sinks deeper into your velvety, wet walls. “Fuck,” he sighs, one hand clutching your hip. “Not bad, babydoll. Your pussy is definitely the best one I’ve fucked…so far.”

He begins to fuck you harder, faster, railing you as if this will be his last time doing so. Your moans and huffs of breath become louder and more intense the harder and deeper his cock plunges inside of you. “W-Wait!” you gasp. “Slow down! I can’t…can’t!”

Toji chuckles, watching your ass bounce against his pelvis as he fucks you. “Sorry, honey,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t help it. You just sound so cute.”

Your thighs clench and your body writhes as he rails you, unable to take this deep dicking into the couch. You try to move away but the knife suddenly sliding against your throat stops you. “Uh-uh, babydoll,” he growls. “Don’t run from me. I wouldn’t try it if I were you.” He then pops his knee up, his foot up on the couch, and reaches a part inside of you that makes you feel unimaginable pleasure.

“Just take me like a good girl, okay?” he whispers. “You can do that for me if you wanna live.” You don’t have a choice in the matter, mostly because of the hold he has on your arms, pulling you back as drives himself forward again and again. The sound of your moans, his grunts, and the lewd plap, plap, plap as his balls swing against your overly-sensitive clit and his hips slam into your ass fill the air, drowned out by the music playing outside.

“Who would’ve thought,” Toji pants into your ear. “C.O.D.E.’s good little spy gettin’ her brains fucked out on a mission, huh? I bet they’d love to see this.” His free hand releases your arms and yanks on a handful of your hair. “I bet they’d love to see you full of me,” he growls. “Full of this dick and my cum.”

He presses the knife deeper into your throat, just enough for you to feel the sharp, jagged edge of the blade. “You wanna cum for me, baby?” he asks. “You gonna be a good slut and take all my cum too?”

“Please!” you whimper, losing your mind and all of your pride. “Please just make me cum! I’ll do whatever you want, Toji!” He takes the knife from your throat and replaces it with his hand, choking you as he fucks you stupid. “Then do it,” he demands. “Fuckin’ cum on this cock while I fill you up. Cum with me now!”

“Ah, ah, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum!” you deliriously sob as he continues to pound into you. “I’m gonna…gonna–!”

You don’t get a chance to finish because your pussy has finally reached its limit and explodes all over him, your walls squeezing around him and your clit shuddering. You reaching your peak triggers Toji and he grips your throat and ass as he comes to a still, his entire body tensing. “Fuck!” he bellows, cumming deep, deep, deep inside of you.

You gasp as you feel a rush of warm liquid flood into your pussy while you gush all over his cock, dripping down his balls. He fills you to the brim, giving you so much that it has no choice but to trickle down your thighs. He doesn’t immediately pull out though––he continues to fuck you, albeit slowly and sloppily, before giving your tit one feeble squeeze and finally pulling out of you.

You weakly moan at the feeling of being empty yet used, your pussy twitching and aching. “Mmm, now look at that,” he sighs dreamily, staring at your cum-soaked cunt. “Now that’s a properly fucked pussy if I do say so myself.” He takes a handful of your chin, squeezing your cheeks together, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Not bad, babydoll.”

You don’t respond, too weak and too tired to do so. You’re too tired to even feel any amount of disgust for him and shame in yourself for failing the mission and enjoying the sex. “Let’s get this off of you,” Toji says, his hands unbuckling the belt from your wrists. “I’m gon’ need it for myself, anyway.” He releases your wrists and lets you lay on the couch, panting and coated in sweat.

Your makeup and hair are ruined. Your underwear is in tatters. You feel used and fucked-out. You can only stare at Toji as he quickly gets dressed and straightens out his clothes, his cock still covered in you. “I’m sorry, baby, but I’ve gotta go before your people get here.” He gives you an apologetic smile. “But gimme a call since I’m sure you can find that out. Maybe we can do this again.”

He then moves to the extra bathroom behind the couch and retrieves a robe which he covers you with. “See?” he chuckles. “I ain’t that big of an asshole.” He presses a kiss to your lips before bending down to pick up your thong. “Thanks for this,” he says, dangling it in front of you. “And the dance. I’ll cherish both forever.”

You don’t say anything, even as you watch him leave, taking your thong and your dignity with you.

Then you are alone. At some point, you find the strength to stand up and wobble to the bathroom where you take a hot shower, washing the scent of sex and cum off of you. When you return, dressed in your robe, the door busts in, and your boss and fellow spies enter the room, guns drawn and masks on their faces.

“V!” your boss shouts, instantly dropping his weapon and running to you. His eyes widen at your state, looking for any bruises or scars. There are none…that are physical, anyway. “V, what happened?” he asks.

And as the events of tonight come flooding back to you at full speed, you muster up the most believable lie you can, clutching your robe closed:

“He overpowered me.”

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #black writers #my fic shit #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x black reader #toxic relationship #toji x self insert

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okiedokrie · 14 days

Text

High Infidelity

Summary: There are many different ways that you could kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough. So what happens when you find someone who was all too willing to give you thee attention you craved, you said you'd only dip your toes into the idea, and yet, you find yourself already drowning. The novel you've been writing has been in progress for the better half of two years now, your writer's block beating you up, and your husband hasn't shown you any sympathy. Maybe a visit to the art exhibit from this new artist would jog your creativity, but what happens when this new artist offers you more than just relief from your writer's block?

Characters/Pairing(s): Xu Minghao (The8) x F!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

AUs/Trope info: Non-idol!AU, Aged-Up!AU, Right Person (not) Too Late

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: Infidelity, very inappropriate conversations with a married woman, afab!reader, wears dresses, lmk if i miss something!! (Smut warnings under the cut)

Rating: 18+

A/N: banner and dividers by @daemour!! tysm!! This is also a rewrite/reupload of my own fic, "High Infidelity" on @pyeonghongrie, yes I reskinned my own fic.

A/N 2: Thanks to @nebulousbrainsoup, @kwanisms, @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, and @gongiz for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: tipsy sex (not drunk), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple stimulation, masturbation, lmk if i missed anything!

The rain soaked into your skin—cold and icy—piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

"I'm right here, honey, I love you." He whispers into your skin, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, one button at a time. He kisses your skin every time new skin is revealed to both of you, he kisses your skin so delicately as if you'd break at the slightest touch-

"Y/N, you still haven't dealt with the dishes yet." Your husband, Haru, said monotonously just as you were starting to gain momentum in your writing.

You groan, the interruption making you lose focus and motivation to write. You stare at the last word on your document, gaze burning into each pixel as if hoping that this piece would write itself.

Unfortunately, life said, "Fuck you."

With another groan, you rub and pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to settle in as your husband returns to work as if he didn't just cause you a serious inconvenience.

Standing from your comfortable computer chair, you take calm and even strides toward your kitchen, where only a handful of dishes are left in the sink.

And this little shit didn't even bother washing like, what? 8 dishes? He has to be kidding me, men.

You thought to yourself, your inner monologue only making you more irritated. But you wash them in silence, thinking of ways to calm down and clear your head so you have a clean slate to work with to get inspired again.

I think I should visit the gallery again, there's this new artist that I've been following. He's getting pretty popular, maybe I could draw inspiration from his work?

You think maybe this is the best idea you've had since you put bacon bits on mac & cheese.

Taking the time to visit this gorgeous gallery was the correct move.

Xu Minghao is a passionate man, you can see his dedication to his craft in all the pieces in this gallery. He was a mixed media artist, sometimes his work was pops of color on a canvas, others were sculptures made of clay, made with the most delicate of hands, and others were more niche, like the stained glass piece in another part of the gallery.

One thing about Minghao's work is that his subjects are also subjects of passion.

Paintings of a man's devotion to worshiping his lover's skin, a stained glass recreation of The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and his latest masterpiece, simply titled "Passion", a sculpture of a woman in the throes of pleasure, with her lover holding her close to him, no gap between their skin, eternally locked in a passionate embrace.

As a romance writer, this is exactly what you need.

You take in this sculpture, the light of the gallery display emphasizing the delicate attention to detail this piece had, you know the man who made this takes pride in this, his work, skills, and dedication finally being realized.

You stare in awe at this piece for a little over 20 minutes, the more you look at it, the more entranced you become of the mastery of this craft.

You feel a presence beside you, a man around 5'11", slightly muscular build, in a turtleneck with glasses sitting delicately on his nose. He has a peculiar hairstyle, a mullet to be exact, and the most gorgeous face you've ever laid your eyes on.

"I see you like this piece in particular," He started, hands in his trouser pockets while smiling fondly at the piece, "'Passion' was a difficult piece for me to finish, ironically enough, I got bored of it quite easily." He continues, turning to face you.

"I'm Minghao, by the way, Xu Minghao. If you haven't already figured it out." He takes a hand out of his pocket, extending it towards you.

"Oh, I'm Y/N, Park Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Minghao. Your exhibit is astounding, I love your dedication to your work." You take his hand to shake it,

He chuckles at the compliment, "Oh please, save your praise, I know that name from anywhere. I love your latest work, that book was what inspired this entire collection, to begin with."

You gawk at him, oh my god, he reads smut. My smut.

"Oh my, what an honor! I'm glad you also enjoy my work." You receive the compliment gracefully, "Although, I do want to hear more about why you got bored of this piece in particular, such a wonder to the arts community, surely you aren't downplaying your work?"

He smiles, perfect teeth on display, you swear you’ve never looked at a man like this in your life. You were down bad for his smile.

"I'm not saying I think it's bad, I just got bored of the creative process." He explains, "Although I do want to continue adding to this collection, perhaps we can go and get drinks together? Exchange ideas?" he offers.

You ponder on this for a bit. Going out to drinks with a budding friend wouldn't hurt, right?

"Could I give you my number? Let's set aside a day to chat. I have to get home to my husband before it gets too late."

A smirk came into his face, something dark about a seemingly insignificant change in his expression, “Of course, I look forward to our time together.”

The mug in your hands warmed your palms, and your focus was fixated on the man in front of you. He talked about another piece of his, titled “Longing”; it was heavily inspired by his desire to find someone who shares the same passion as him, the longing to hold someone in a way that nobody else could, intimacy in its purest form.

“It sounds a bit pathetic, I’m known for my work in the art of passion and, to put it simply, sex; but I haven’t been able to find the company of a lover myself. Perhaps that’s just the consequence of being a hopeless romantic. Then again, you wouldn’t know the feeling of being lonely, I assume.” He said calmly, a small chuckle ending his tangent.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” You look into the mug in your hands, your reflection swirling in the tea. Your face looks back at you, eyes sunken in and sad, “To put it nicely… my husband robs me of solitude, but fails to offer me company.” You shouldn’t be talking about Haru like this. Your husband works many hours, tirelessly providing you with the house and connections for you to pursue a career in writing. But that wasn’t the reason why your anxiety was swirling in your stomach.

Looking back up at Minghao, the same dark expression sits on his face, a minuscule smirk, barely there even if you squint, “Well, we’re friends now, aren’t we? I could keep you company.”

That. That was a quality of his that you noticed fairly early on. You can never read his true intentions, suggestive prose with just enough deniability to gracefully reject him without the conversation becoming inappropriate.

But your anxiety wasn’t caused by that, no, it was caused by the fact that you didn’t want to reject him.

“I’d like that, Maybe we could head to a bar and get drinks there too? My husband won’t be back for a few months because of a business trip in a few weeks. I could use the company.” You say, looking at him through your lashes; he knows his effect on you, and the mental gymnastics that both of you play over the table was just appropriate enough that to anyone listening, it’s just two friends agreeing to get drinks sometime in the future.

But to both of you, well, only the two of you know what’ll happen once the sun goes down.

“Of course, my schedule is free for the rest of the month. Be sure to think of me if you need company.” He offers you a soft smile, directly contrasting how intensely he’s making eye contact with you. The way he’s looking into your eyes makes you feel vulnerable like he’s directly using them as windows into your head. You’re half-convinced he could read your mind, if he could, he’s a master at hiding it.

You haven’t learned much about him, but from what you do know, you can never take his words at surface level, much less his actions. The way he’s leaning over the table, elbows on the surface, and his shoulders relaxed. His closing the distance, even if just by a hair, and the way his posture suggested the epitome of familiarity, shook you to your core.

His presence is almost suffocating, his dominance over your mind silencing whatever protest his suggestions may have created. You nod dumbly, “Of course, be warned though, I think of you a lot.” This causes his smile to relax into a smirk, the kind that could pass off as a smile if you don’t think too hard about it.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think about you a lot too.” He says picking up his cup of tea, “So much that a collection was born from the thought of you.” He takes a sip from the cup in his hands, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the cup, the way he holds eye contact with you always makes goosebumps litter your skin, the cup hiding the growing smirk on his face, silently enjoying his effect on you.

“Ah, speaking of the collection,” He started again, after setting the cup down, “Would you do me the honor of visiting my studio sometime? I’ll text you the address right now, you can come by at any time if you’re interested.” Taking his phone out from his pocket, feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket, you pick it up. The small device, usually light, feels like a heavy weight on your palm.

Opening your messages, you see that Minghao already sent the address, a building about 20 minutes from the cafe you’re in right now. “Lovely, could I trouble you to pick me up when I decide to visit?” You ask,

“Of course,” He replies, a gentle smile stretches across his face, “I’d love nothing more than to see you more often.”

The first time you entered Minghao’s studio, it felt like a dream. The studio wasn’t small by any means, the place was neat, neater than what you imagined any artist studio would look like. “Make yourself at home, I’ll brew some tea for us,” Minghao said as he took both your coats. Hanging the heavy fabrics on his coat rack, he gently guides you to the couches with a hand on your back, the light touch helping to ground you in this new environment.

He shoots you a quick smile before turning his back to you, setting his electric kettle to boil the water at the perfect temperature for tea. He rummages through his extensive tea set collection, settling on a simple white ceramic set with wooden handles. His eyes meet yours briefly, taking note of how you watch his every movement with care and curiosity, the way you were fascinated with the way his hand veins jumped every time he set a piece of the tea set down.

The kettle finishes boiling, he finally sets it down next to the tea set. “I want to introduce you to this teacake that my friend from home sent me,” He pulls out a teacake about the size of his head from the drawer under the table, wrapped in a slightly stained paper. He carefully unwraps it to show you the rich brown of the aged tea leaves, “This is a 15-year-old aged pu’er, I haven’t had the chance to try it yet, so I’d like to try this with you.”

“What an honor, I read from a recent interview that you were waiting for a good day to taste that right?” You ask, trying to gauge his reaction, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it,

“Of course, making a new friend is a special occasion, isn’t it? I’d consider that a good day.” He replies cooly, taking a tea knife and carving out a piece of tea to steep for a second, you watch as he delicately handles the porcelain set, the control in his movements reminding you of his mastery in sculpting, “You know, making tea is much like cultivating a new relationship,” he starts as he stands up to take the kettle off the stand.

“You carefully carve out your leaves, boil your water to the perfect temperature to bloom them, and steep the leaves a few seconds at a time.” You see him pour the water over the tea leaves, dried blades blooming like flowers under the delicate stream. “Each steep of tea is different, starting from the bloom until the flavor develops; and only then will you appreciate the true complexities of what tea has to offer.”

A small smile grows on your face as you watch him pour the first bloom onto his tea pets, “If my assessment is correct, you’re trying to correlate the developing flavors of tea with how our relationship is progressing?” He nods, confirming your hypothesis, “Then, I’ll ask you a question, which steep are we on?” you say with a cheeky smile.

Minhao grins at this, eyes almost disappearing with how wide his smile was, “Literally? The second steep.” He says as he pours more water over the leaves, you let out a chuckle at his little joke, “Figuratively? The fifth.”

You tilt your head a bit, “The fifth? I didn’t realize we were already at that stage.” you say as you accept his offer of a teacup.

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t just share my most expensive teas with anyone, so I might as well share it with one of the most brilliant minds I know.” he said while bringing the cup to his lips, sipping the drink carefully while making eye contact with you over the rim, winking playfully.

You raise your cup as well, the rising steam not being the only reason for your flushed face, you grin against the rim of your cup, savoring the rich and deep aroma of the high-quality tea.

After a while of banter and small talk, you finish your tea, setting down your cup gently on his expensive-feeling coffee table, he stands from his seat, “Could I show you something?” he said, holding his hand out to you. You place your palm on his, the warmth from his hand seeping into your skin. The touch was negligible, simple, even, but the contact with his skin sent electricity through you, like a violent jolt of excitement.

Minghao notices this and smirks, feeling pride swell up in his chest as he pulls you up from the couch, leading you to the other side of the room with a hand on the small of your back. He finally stops in front of a large canvas, laid across what looks like a bare-bones bed frame. You turn to him, curiosity growing on the expression of your face.

“What’s this? This looks fairly new, the paint on the frame still seems wet.” You ask, eyes raking over the splotches of color seemingly placed without much thought or care, it looked like the aftermath of a messy and angry paint spill.

“It is new,” Minghao starts, “I’m trying a new technique where I release frustrations by getting whatever paint catches my eye and throwing cups of it without much thought.” He shrugs, nothing particularly of note, but you do notice the amount of emotion that is in the piece.

“It’s not an elegant piece, but for a collection centered around passion I find it missing raw emotion.” He runs his hand through his face, frustration taking over his features, something you noticed early on was his emotions were closely tied to whatever art was around him, it seems as though the frustration in this one was affecting him at this moment.

“Yes, the human form and sex are great subjects, but pure, raw emotion is hard to capture.” He mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. “So, that’s why I invited you here. Tell me, as someone who’s written longing, despair, and everything in between. How does this make you feel?”

You pause and take in his words, turning back to the canvas and trying to soak in the colors, the shapes, and the emotion behind this piece. Yes, frustration is here. Yes, anger is here. But how does it make you feel?

“It makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.” You say simply, your stomach sinking just thinking about what that might entail. Minghao has a genuine look of shock for the first time since you’ve met him. His head tilted to give his attention to you fully.

“Really? Interesting. That’s the first time I heard that about this piece specifically.” He said with a lopsided grin, seemingly getting a new stroke of genius with your answer. He looks back at the canvas too, shoulders shaking from his restricted laughs. Your answer seemed to entertain him a lot. That much you can figure out, but you can never be sure what goes on in the mind of Xu Minghao.

Just then, your phone starts to ring, you only know one person who would call you at this hour—your Husband. You watch as the expression on Minghao’s face falls, face contorting into something short of a scowl for a split second before settling on his usual cool neutral expression. It was so quick that you barely missed the change, it happened so quickly that you decided it was all in your imagination as you ran to answer the phone.

You pick up the phone, “Hi honey-” You were cut off by your husband speaking,

“Get home, it’s getting late and you haven’t started dinner yet.” He said simply, before promptly dropping the call.

You stand there, the line going dead as you try to hold back tears. You take a deep breath, too afraid to show your face to Minghao in case tears were about to fall from your face. Grabbing your coat, you turn to face the door.

“Thank you for inviting me over, I have to get home now,” you said, your voice a little shaky, as you roughly opened the door.

You were out of his sight as Minghao stood alone in his studio, pondering. As silence took over the space, a dark smirk on his face.

'How long before you break?' he wonders.

The next time you and Minghao meet, you’re sitting on a park bench watching the autumn leaves dance to the silent song in the wind. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear leaves crunch beside you, seeing the tail of Minghao’s long coat swaying in the wind.

He sees you, a smile spreading across his face, his long hair almost covering his face. His fast-paced walking makes the leaves crunch under his weight rhythmically. You think that he looks beautiful under the soft brightness of the autumn morning, only ever seeing him in the harsh rays of high noon or the constant humming of fluorescent lights.

You feel the heat radiating off his body through your and his coats as he sits next to you on the park bench. “Beautiful morning, the view is exquisite.” He says, looking directly at you. You giggle at this, he’s always been such a charmer ever since you met him. You peel the notebook from your lap, “I’m no artist, but the park is too gorgeous this time of year to not at least try to capture on paper.” you say as you open it to show him a relatively crude sketch of the scenery.

“Oh? This feels like a threat to my career.” He says with a chuckle, “But, genuinely, this is an amazing sketch. Are you sure you aren’t an artist?” You think you could get used to how relaxed you were around Minghao, conversations with him flowed so easily, it reminds you of the times your husband used to be invested in you as a person. Perhaps it was easier to compare the thrill of meeting a new person with feeling the start of a romantic spark, it was a dangerous game to play with him.

“No, I’m not, but I can appreciate a masterpiece when I see one.” You say, this time looking at him. He notices this and laughs at the fact that his joke is being used against him. He closes the notebook, handing it to you to put in your tote bag.

“The weather is perfect for a walk, care to join me?” He said, offering his hand for you to take. You accept the offer, the warmth of his palm being something to ground you on such a dreamy morning. Leaves crunch under both your weights in synch, your hand moves from his to hold onto his arm, and you try not to notice the lean muscle of it or the steady and secure way he guides you through the path.

You breathe in the autumn chill, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed the quiet whistle of the wind. “Your book,” Minghao said, his silky voice cutting through the silence effortlessly, “The one that inspired the collection, I’ve been following your publisher’s updates on the series, and I was wondering if you'd be able to share your progress on the second book?”

“Ah, about that.” You grimace, and you shake your head, quelling the urge to complain about your husband’s lack of sympathy for your predicament. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time, it’s not something I can talk about at the moment.”

Before you can correct the old man, Minghao speaks up, “Of course, could I take three of these?” He said, pointing at the basket of Jonquils.

He hums, luckily, Minghao was never the type to pry, “I get it, ever the tortured poet you are.” he said in a joking tone, you let out a chortle at this, agreeing that you may or may not be one.

Both of you are stopped by a flower vendor, “You both are a lovely pair,” The old man starts, as he turns to Minghao, he asks, “Could I interest you in some flowers? I’m sure your lady would appreciate them.” He smiles.

“Of course, you’re in luck too, these are the last off-season flowers I had in my greenhouse.” the old man said as his nimble fingers wrapped the flowers in some yellow tissue paper.

“I'm really lucky indeed.” He agreed while looking at you, your cheeks warming up at the implication. Minghao accepts the flowers and happily pays for them, gracefully handing the bundle to you.

Holding onto the stems, your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the bright yellow flowers. “Thank you Minghao, they're beautiful.”

He smiles at the way you look at the flowers fondly, simply adoring the way your face lit up; literally, the yellow from the flowers reflected off your face and gave it a yellow hue.

“Shall we continue to walk?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold again, you hold onto it, the flowers in your other hand. And you let the silence take over again.

Before you knew it, you've spent the entire day laughing and talking with Minghao, only stopping at several vendors for food and other trinkets, feeding the ducks berries, and watching the fish in the pond.

But the day has to end at some point.

You regretfully leave Minghao at the train station, waving goodbye through the glass of the train doors as you watch his figure get smaller and smaller.

Arriving home, you try to find a vase to put your flowers in, setting it down on the kitchen counter, your husband walks in and sees them.

“They're ugly, don't put them anywhere where I could see them.”

He said coldly, you try your best not to scoff at him, still searching for a vacant vase.

Finally finding one, you decide to place the flower vase on the windowsill of your office, the bright flowers contrasting everything else in the room, the dark and neutral furniture your husband got for you.

You jolt, realizing you're comparing your husband to another man.

You expected guilt to eat you up at the realization, but really, you couldn't find a reason to keep defending Haru.

“Could you come over to the studio later tonight? I don't think I should be alone.”

This text from Minghao worried you a bit, you've been spending a lot of time with him recently, you met him 6 more times after he got you flowers at the park, and you never noticed that he could deal with something so sinister.

Of course, you agree to come, your closest confidant in your adult life needs you right now. You wait for your husband to fall asleep in his office, again, before you leave the house, walking to the end of the block before calling a cab.

Arriving at his studio, you already knew the code, punching in the numbers 150526 on the smart lock, the studio opens with a click.

You take cautious steps into the studio, seeing the silhouette of a man on the couch, his back towards the door, nursing what you assume is a wine glass in his hand.

He turns his head to face the door, “You came.” He said, with relief in his voice, a little slurred from the alcohol you assume.

“You called.” You replied. Shrugging off your coat to hang, you join him on the couch. He looked a lot more disheveled compared to the usual clean and put-together Minghao that you know.

His hair is slicked back, some pieces of hair falling onto his face, his tie loosened, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his collarbones and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And glasses resting lowly on his nose.

You look at his face, and you notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Drink, and stay with me. Please.” He asks, no, almost begs you. You don't have the heart to decline. He pours you your glass and you both toast your glasses together.

You take the normal sip and he downs the rest of his, taking in a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Y/N, there's something I need to tell you.”

Your stomach drops at this, anxiety filling the pit of it as you nervously wait for the rest of what he has to say.

“I think I'm in love with-” he pauses, “someone I shouldn't be in love with.” He finishes, leaning forward to pour himself another glass of wine.

Your face falls only slightly, a minuscule change in expression that neither you nor Minghao catch. You cross your hands over your lap as soon as you realize your silence.

“Why can't you be in love with them?” You ask. Your head tilts as you take another sip of your wine. He hums, a smile graces his lips, but it doesn't seem to reach his eyes.

“They refuse to be vulnerable with me, opening up throughout our time together then closing back in the next time I see them.” He says with some fondness, “Also, they're married to someone else.”

“You probably should've led with that.” You mumble lowly, “I see, I know that all too well, wanting someone you can't have, someone so close yet so far. It's suffocating, especially when you haven't felt like yourself in so long, and then this person comes around and gives color back to your sad, gray, life. It's cruel, actually.”

You realize you've been rambling, turning to meet Minghao's eyes, you notice an emotion swirling behind them, something bittersweet, a realization that may change the course of your relationship.

“Anyway, how did you end up falling for them in the first place?” You ask in an attempt to bring the conversation back to him,

“Well, at first it was just a cure for boredom, I saw how receptive they were to my advances and I thought their marriage served as a fun, harmless challenge for me. But I got to know them, spend time with them, I got to witness the color come back into their face and I couldn't help but find it beautiful. That fact that I did that, bring color back into their face, slowly becoming someone again. The moment I saw their face light up with a simple gift I knew I was down, down bad.”

You hum, thinking the person Minghao was talking about is one of the luckiest people in the world right now. To be loved by him was like witnessing Orpheus’ choiceless grief that drove him to save his lover from the underworld, it was like feeling the devotee's dread-filled need to turn around, it was like experiencing the immediate forgiveness of Eurydice.

You wanted to be loved by him.

You both continue to chat and drink, and it isn't long before the two of you finish your second bottle of wine, Minghao offers to pay for your cab home, and he decides he's going to sleep in his studio.

You reflect on the events of that night as you slip into the cold covers of your marital bed, your husband’s side tidy as it was for the past month.

You run your hand over the pristine and cold sheet, imagining someone else filling its space on your bed, as he does your heart.

Minghao added a new piece to his collection, his gallery is still a work in progress and you walk through familiar doors. The very same statue you were entranced by still sits by the entrance, and you see a very familiar figure standing in front of it.

“I feel like this already happened before.” You said cheekily, he snorts at this, handing you a paper bag with tissue paper peeking from the top.

“Maybe this happened before in a dream, maybe we were destined to meet under the judgemental fluorescent lights.” He jokes as you feel the weight of the bag on your fingers.

“What's in the bag, Hao?” You ask cautiously, mischief flashing on his face before he fully turns his body to you, giving you his full attention.

“It's something you might like, maybe.” He said, his confidence faltering toward the end of his sentence. Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he eagerly waits for you to open the semi-heavy bag.

You carefully move the paper to the side of the bag, seeing white porcelain peaking back at you, you whip your head with with your face showing an expression of surprise. Minghao smiles, enjoying your reaction to his gift.

“You got me a tea set? That's so thoughtful, thank you.” You say with a smile, inspecting the frog patterns in the glaze.

“You mentioned your husband is leaving for a business trip soon, so I figured you'd like a set so we can have tea at your place. I'll even bring you a teacake to keep.” He said as he pulled a hand out of his trousers, fixing a stray hair that fell from your up-do.

“It's perfect, thank you.” You said, looking up at him, a smile still on your face.

“Do you want to walk around the gallery with me? I added a few pieces since then, and I'd like to talk about them.” he said, offering his arm. You wrap another hand around him, the familiarity of his arm under your palm giving you a sense of calm.

You spent the rest of the day walking around the gallery and chatting, other gallery-goers openly gawked at Minghao. It was obvious, really, the artist is here in the flesh, and he's gorgeous.

Minghao stopped to entertain other guests too, seeing him in his element made pride swell in your chest. His work, and by extension him, is finally being recognized by more people in the community. His hard work and dedication paid off handsomely.

Stopping in front of a mural, you noticed it was a replica of a really old painting. A painting of Ares and Aphrodite getting caught by Hephestus.

“Oof, poor bastards.” You joke, Minghao found this funny too, chuckling with you.

“It’s almost comical how this painting compelled me. I don't know what drove me to recreate the thing as a whole mural, but we both know I'm a little crazy.” He says with a playful groan, you try to hold back a loud laugh by giggling into your palm.

“Well, dear Xu Minghao, everyone knows crazy people are geniuses.” squeezing his arm, you check out the side of his face. His side profile was so sharp and soft at the same time, the dichotomy of his features was an easy subject to study. He's a gorgeous man, too gorgeous for his own good you think.

You both sat down on the bench in front of the mural to chat, and before you knew it, enough time has passed that the gallery was about to close.

Minghao calls a cab for you, and you arrive home in-tact, but not safe.

“Y/n, where have you been running off to these past few weeks?” Your husband questioned you as soon as you entered your home. Your mood instantly dropped, feeling the weight of your actions all at once.

“I'm hanging out with a friend, and it's really not that deep. It's not like I've neglected house work at all. So you should have a reason to care.” You snap back, a little too much for such a simple query. Your husband rises from his seat, cupping your face with a gentle hand for the first time in a long time.

“You’re my wife, of course it's my concern.” He said, just as he was about to make you fall for him again, he said, “We haven't been intimate in a long time, I'm leaving in a few days, so I want to make love to you before I go.”

Ah, there it was. He only ever shows affection for you when he's asking for sex nowadays.

You nod, what followed was unfulfilling and unsatisfying sex. Missionary, a few pumps just to get him off, and he didn't even kiss you.

And obviously, he didn't make you cum.

Your husband is fast asleep in your bed for the first time in months, and yet you can't find it in yourself to be happy about it.

You take out your trusty friend, egg.

The jolts to life with steady vibrations as you press the toy to your clit, relaxing into the sheets as you imagine a pair of calloused hands roaming the plane of your skin.

Controlled pressure and technique only a sculptor could have, his hair falling over his face, and his eyes holding you gaze as if you gave him everything he could ever want by simply existing.

He looks at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him, just so he could watch your skin bathed in moonlight, twinkling like the most precious diamond he could ever have.

This man isn't your husband, It was Minghao.

Your orgasm came unexpectedly, the realization that you were fantasizing about him snapped you back into reality so violently that you ruined your own orgasm.

You huff as you tuck the toy back into its drawer, pulling up the covers to try and sleep off the guilt.

Your husband left for his business trip a few days ago, and you made preparations for your first guest in a while. You finally set up the tea set when you heard a knock at your door, springing up, you head towards the door to look through the peephole, you see Minghao dressed a little more casually, a cap on his head and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You swiftly unlock the door for him, he smiles upon seeing you, tipping his cap, he says, “Good evening, it's a pleasure to finally be invited into your home.” You greet him back, stepping to the side to let him enter. As he does, he takes his cap off to let his hair fall onto his face again.

He offers you the flowers and you take them, “I'll go find a vase for these, make yourself at home, dinner is still cooking in the oven.” You said as you turned back to find another vase.

After finding one and setting the flowers in your office again, you find Minghao setting a record on your turntable, a slow tune plays through the air, instantly making the room feel calmer and homey.

“I didn't pin you as the type to have such an extensive vinyl collection, you have good taste too.” He said, swaying to the music by shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“I didn't feel the need to mention it considering I haven't touched those in a while. My husband hates them.” You say solemnly.

“Well, he isn't here now. Let's enjoy the music,” he said, holding his hand out for you to take, “Dance with me?”

You smile as you take his hand, he suddenly pulls you towards him and you land on his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as you sway to the calm of the music.

You think to yourself, This is nice, this is safe. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be married to Minghao instead.

You turn your head and press your ear to his chest, hear him breathe slowly, his heart beating rhythmically. This is the first time you were ever this close to him, practically holding him in a loving embrace.

His woody cologne almost distracts you, so seductive and masculine and you almost reach up to cup his face, to kiss him. Before you realize that he isn't your husband.

You're both snapped out of your little bubble when the oven dings, signaling that dinner is ready. You break away from him, already missing his warmth as you set the dining table, one that hasn't been used in a while.

You eat dinner with him, talking about your days and how work has been. It's a welcome change of pace from your husband’s tolerance of your presence. You didn't have to beg Minghao for footnotes on his life, you didn't feel like you're taking up too much of his space or time.

It's safe, secure. It feels like you're being celebrated for existing.

You dwell on this feeling long after Minghao heads home, your stomach and heart full. As you slip into the covers you wonder what it'll feel like to hold him under them, for him to kiss the crown of your head and whisper the three words you desperately wanted to hear again.

You fall asleep with the fantasy that when you wake up, he'll be right next to you.

Minghao invited you downtown this time, various pop-up stores of luxury brands recently opened and he just secured a sale of a really expensive painting; so of course, what better way to spend that money than taking a shopping trip with his closest friend.

“This would look amazing on you.” He said while taking out a dress, it's a color that compliments your hair and skin wonderfully. Minghao always knew how to dress.

“Oh, I'm inclined to agree, but I'm not willing to look at the price tag for that one.” You joke, shrugging as you follow him around the store.

“Nonsense, I'm offering to pay.” He said, turning his nose up. “I'm getting this for you, I'll ask the salesperson for more sizes so you can try them on.” He said, turning to the salesperson doing just that.

The salesperson nods enthusiastically, bringing the dresses to the dressing rooms and ushering you in despite your protests. Minghao only smiles in amusement as the curtain hides your figure, he sits on the bench near the dressing rooms in silence, scrolling through Instagram on his phone.

He hears the curtains roll open, it only takes a moment of him looking at you in the dress to take his breath away. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body deliciously. Minghao almost drops his phone onto his lap, his grip loosening, star-struck by your beauty.

“How does it look?” You ask, awkwardly fiddling with the expensive fabric of the dress, feeling a little too expensive to be on your body.

Minghao wordlessly stands from the bench, looking a little dazed, he turns to the salesperson and tells them, “We're getting the dress.” As he walks toward the cashier almost in a trance.

You're a little taken aback by his reaction, but nonetheless you change back into your regular clothes. As soon as you walk out of the dressing room Minghao Pushes you back in with more dresses.

“Please try these on.” He says, not having the strength to look you in the eyes. You comply.

It took you hours of trying on dresses and accessories to the point that you almost bought the store out. Minghao couldn't get enough of the mini-fashion show you were putting on for him, and it's not like the salespeople are complaining either.

You walk out of the first store with multiple bags in hand, you thought that was enough shopping for the whole year maybe, but no, Minghao pulls you into another store, and another, and another, all leaving with bags (multiple) of clothes.

It got so bad to the point that Minghao had to leave your bags in his car so you could free up your hands to buy more stuff.

You stopped trying to fathom the amount of money Minghao was spending on you, yes, he did buy items for himself too, but he looked much more satisfied to provide for you rather than procuring items for himself.

The car ride back home was filled with way too many ‘are you sure's and ‘you really didn't have to's. But Minghao was insistent on you keeping all the items he got for you.

“I'm being serious, you're a gorgeous woman, you deserve to be spoiled like a queen.” he said, turning to you while waiting at a red light, “You need to visit my studio in the clothes I got you, you'll fit right in with my paintings.” He smiles.

Your face flushes at his compliments, a bright and happy smile stretching across your face. You couldn't remember the last time you were this happy with someone. To find joy in the company of another felt liberating, you felt like you deserved this.

Minghao drops you off at your place with your new clothes, helping you get them into your living room like a true gentleman.

“I'll see you next time, Y/n.” He said stopping at your doorstep, annd leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, he took note of what your shampoo smelled like and left. Leaving you awestruck in your doorway as you watch his car drive off.

This studio has become so familiar to you, like a second home almost. Punching in the code was muscle memory at this point, the smell of drying paint and clay becoming a calming scent.

You smooth over the front of your dress, one that Minghao got you, as you enter his studio again. Shrugging off your heavier coat, the beginning of winter creeps closer as the trees lose the last of their leaves.

Minghao just got out of the bathroom, wiping his hands on his paint-stained shirt and apron. He looks at you, the dress, the way it fits on you. And he smiles widely.

“Hey there gorgeous, what are you doing all the way there? You should be over there with the rest of the art.” He says cheekily.

You giggle as you enter the space more, stopping in front of him taking his extended hand and following it, giving him a twirl.

He simply adores the way the fabric flows and shapes around your curves and contours, your skin practically glowing with life.

He fights the urge to kiss you, succeeding for now.

He guides you onto the couch, a turntable sitting next to his stone tea tray on the coffee table. ”Oh? This is new.” You said when you noticed it.

“Oh that? I got it for when you come over. I got a few records too, if you'd like to make yourself comfortable while I brew us some tea.” He said, untying his apron to hang on an easel, turning his back to you and he started preparing tea like before.

His movements and practiced, you'd guess this tea ceremony is second nature to him, considering he always talks about it. This scene is safe, familiar, it's comfortable.

He does this whole song and dance again, you've seen him do this over and over again but you can't seem to get sick of it. It's like you're giving yourself excuses just to keep seeing him.

But they don't feel like excuses, not at all, they're just more reasons why you feel deeply, and so quickly for Minghao.

Again, the both of you talk about everything and anything under the sun, him walking you through all his latest pieces, him plans for new ones creativity vibrating through ever cell in his body.

You imagine him talking so passionately about the future, maybe even a future with you.

Before you could realize what you were doing, you’re holding onto Minghao’s shoulders for support,

and you lean up to kiss him.

Minghao fights the urge to kiss back, he fails.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head tilting his head to deepen the kiss, pouring all his emotions into the simple, gesture of affection.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from his cologne and the wind getting knocked from your lungs as soon as your lips met his. It was electrifying, finally feeling the warmth of his body pressed so close, yet so far from yours.

Oh, you wanted him, so, so badly.

He pulls away first, heaving from the intensity of the kiss, eyes in a daze. Meeting your eyes again, he couldn’t help but lean in for another kiss.

This time he's really pressing into you seemingly drunk off of the feeling of his lips meeting yours. He's just a man at the end of the day, a weak, weak man in the face of paradise.

He came back to his senses once he felt the cool metal of your wedding ring on his neck. Jolting back, he pushed your shoulders back, creating a significant distance between the two of you.

“I, I think you should leave.” He said turning to hide in his studio bathroom to collect his thoughts.

You stood there puzzled, did he not feel the same way you did? But why did he kiss you, twice? Something isn't adding up.

But moreover, you can't ignore the painful sting this rejection gave you. You wanted him, did he not want you? What was the point of trying so hard to make you fall for him when he just decided to back down when he finally had you?

You gather your belongings and leave the studio, the door clicking to lock behind you. The ride back was suffocating, it felt like you left a part of yourself in that studio with Minghao. And you fear that this may be the last time you see him.

You haven’t spoken to Minghao in the weeks following the kiss, your nerves on fire every time you remember how his pillow lips felt so right on yours.

You're standing in front of the mural. The one where Hephestus caught Aphrodite, his wife, and Hephestus, her lover, having an affair and having sex on their marital bed.

It's funny, looking at this mural. You spent your last weeks wandering his gallery, searching for his shadow, but he always seems to evade you so easily. He's marked you like a bloodstain on a pristine white dress, lingering like fog on a cold autumn day.

Winter is still young, yet you feel cold. So, so cold.

As if your most desperate prayers were heard, Minghao practically materializes next to you.

“Hi. I'm sorry I wasn't able to speak to you for the past few weeks. I'm a coward, a fool to run from you.” He said, both of you looking at the mural and not at each other.

Silence follows, you couldn't look at him, you couldn't speak to him. “Y/n I-”

“This isn't the place to talk about this.” You said coldly.

Minghao flinches a bit, not used to how icy your voice was. It usually greets him so warmly, so lovingly.

“Let's go out to drink, there's a bar that's walking distance from here, if you'd like go go with me. I have too many things to say to you, too many thoughts left unsaid. You deserve to hear them, at least.” He said, remorseful.

You really couldn't find it in yourself to stay mad at him. So you agree to walk with him.

The walk to the bar is silent, unlike your previous walks. You're so far from him, you even refused to hold onto his arm like you usually do.

It's early winter yet Minghao is sweating bullets, he's almost vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass. His nerves are all over the place, he's acting so out of character, nothing like the calm, cool, collected Minghao you've come to know over the past few months.

He takes a deep breathe before you both enter the bar.

A few drinks in and you’re already tipsy, “You know- hic- my husband is being a dick to me.” You drunkenly slurred, “This novel I’ve been writing for over two years now is fucking me in the ass- I- I want to finish it so desperately but all he does is sucks the soul out of me. He’s a giant pain in the ass-!”

Minghao snorts at this, loudly talking over the music of the bar, “Your husband is a fucking dick! Your work is amazing. If I were him, I would do anything to help you get rid of that writer’s block, you know, inspire you.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’d do that?” You ask, clinging onto his arm, “Thank youuuu hao bear~ you’re the best-!” You giggle into his arm, your weight pressing against his side. You’ve only known him for three months at this point, but his ideas and influence on your work improved your writing and motivation drastically.

“Hao bear? That’s new, you’ve only known me for- what? 3 months? You’re already calling me nicknames!” He holds the back of your head gently, pressing his forehead onto yours, “I should give you a nickname too… Starlight, how does that sound?” At this point, you tune out every other sound other than the sound of his voice and the pounding of your heart.

This man had you in a chokehold the moment you met him, you were fucking doomed from the start.

“Starlight? Yeah, I like it more than a little bit.” You say softly, your words almost getting lost in the noise of the bar.

“Let’s move to somewhere quieter, yeah? Tell me more about your work. We can head to my place to settle down for a bit.” There it is, the same dark, barely there smirk that plagues your stomach with butterflies.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Arriving at Minghao’s place, you take a quick look around his apartment. Everywhere you look is a pop of color, bold splotches of vibrant hues making the place look like it was pulled straight out of the 80s, “Hao, your place is amazing, the furniture brings me so much joy~” You giggle a bit, sitting down at the plush red velvet couch shaped like a seashell.

“Thanks! Most of the furniture is thrifted from retro thrift stores, I like this style more. It brings so much personality to the space.” He passionately talks about them, “Do you want anything to drink? I have water, juice, and beer here.” He says, rummaging through his fridge.

“Oh, just water, please.” You say you have a feeling that you need to at least sober up for whatever the night brings.

He takes two glasses of water and places them down on the coffee table. It’s the only piece in the entire house that is a neutral color, a fine hardwood. You couldn’t tell what it was at a glance, not that it was important anyway.

“So, let’s talk about this book that you’ve been struggling to write now. Could you tell me what it’s about?” He asks, taking a swig of his water, you stare at his side profile while he does, sharp yet delicate features, his Adam’s apple bobbing from his drink.

Bro’s so majestic.

“Well, it’s about an artist who’s losing passion for his work, told from the perspective of his lover. It’s a spicy romance, with, in my opinion, a correct amount of sex scenes-”

“Give me a percentage of how much of it is smut.” Minghao interrupts you,

“Like… 75 percent?” He snorts at this, “Anyway, I’ve been stuck on the last spicy scene of the book, the climax, pun not intended,” You take a swig of your water, “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have experience writing that sort of thing, or lack experience in sex either, but my sex life’s been such a drag with my husband being gone for long periods and-”

Minghao interrupts you again, “And he doesn’t fuck you right, does he?”

The forwardness of his words made you freeze, you contemplated whether to reject him here, to tell him it wasn’t appropriate to talk about this with you, especially about your husband. You know how Minghao looks at you. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that he wanted you, but he never acted in any inappropriate way. He never makes you uncomfortable.

This was no exception. The swirling in your stomach wasn’t because of unease, no, this was because of arousal.

“No, no he doesn’t.”

He leans in, kissing you. This time he's not rushing, no more pushing and pulling, no more things left unsaid. He wants you, he'll have you. That was a promise.

He lifts you from the couch, lips never parting as he carries you to his bedroom, peeling each other's clothes, bumping into walls and furniture. But you couldn't care less, you were lost in each other's embrace and you can't think of another place you'd rather be.

Half-naked on Minghao’s bed, who, need you be reminded, was not your husband.

His hands roamed your sides, the heat from his palms warming your skin, causing it to flush, his soft, plump lips pressing feather-light kisses to your neck. You could feel his breath behind your ear, his hair tickling your cheek.

“How would your husband feel if he knew what you were doing with me right now?” He asks, clearly getting off on the fact that you were in his bed, getting ready to fuck him, a man who wasn’t your husband.

“I hope he’d be disappointed, but at this point, I think he forgot about me.” You say with a chuckle at the end, trying not to ruin the mood.

Minghao gently pulls away from you from that, “What?” he asks quietly, the word almost getting drowned out by the hum of the air conditioning, “Sorry, I know this was supposed to be a taboo, forbidden relationship thing but… I’m angry at him.” He says, avoiding your eyes.

“I know I’ve only known you for a few months, but I never felt this way before. It fucking kills me to think that a woman like you would be forgotten, for what exactly? Work?” He said anger gradually filling his voice. His hand reaches for your face when your eyes meet, thumbs pressing down on your cheekbone. The controlled and purposeful movement reminds you just how pliable you are under his touch. He sculpted you into what he wanted you to be; beautiful, strong, unashamed.

You gently cup his face, still hovering above you, “Kiss me, Minghao.”

And he did.

His lips met yours in a searing embrace, just the force of his passion against yours was dizzying, fiery desire clashing to make fireworks behind the eyelids that fluttered close. You never felt this type of longing from your husband, never felt his devotion being kissed through your lips like Minghao’s tongue was exploring it.

At that moment, you knew you were gone.

Minghao pulled away from you, hazy eyes meeting yours as the string of saliva that connected your mouths broke. At that moment, Minghao was stuck in a trance, his lips coming to meet yours over and over like he couldn’t stop tasting your lips even if he tried. A sweet ambrosia, too saccharine to stop. He’s become addicted to your lips molding onto his like sickly sweet honey sticking to his lips.

Out of breath, he grabs hold of your waist, rolling over to get you on top of him. He reaches behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra and letting your breasts fall free from it. He cups both of them while you sit up, grinding on his hardening cock through his boxers, he groans at this, reflexively squeezing your boobs.

Placing both of your hands on his pecs, you also give them a gentle squeeze. Minghao notices this and his gaze darkens, passing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. Your pussy clenches onto nothing at this, a soft gasp leaves you as you started to grind harder against Minghao.

His nails started to dig into your hips, his own desperately grinding up against you for more friction. Soft moans leave him as he throws his head back against the pillows, eyes fluttering close just so he could focus on the sensations of your clothed cunt grinding against his cock through his boxers.

“God, get off of me before I cum in my underwear like a teenager.” He says with a playful groan, lifting your hips off from his crotch.

“Right, you still need to cum inside of me.” You say back playfully, his eyes darkened at this.

“Fuck, you make me want to keep you forever,” taking one of your hands and placing a kiss on your palm.

He lifts his hips only enough to get his boxers off, shimmying them off to somewhere on the floor near his bed. You also take this time to take your underwear off, secretly hiding it under his pillow when you lean down to kiss him again.

When you both pulled away, another string of saliva connected you two. You took two fingers to swipe at the liquid, bringing it down to rub your clit while you lowered yourself down to grind on his bare cock now.

Minghao hisses, “Fuck, I can feel how wet and warm you are, sweet christ.” he breathes out a shaky breath as you grind your bare wetness on his cock, lubricating the shaft for later. You moan at the contact, body slightly shaking from the friction of the tip of his cock hitting your clit occasionally.

“God, Minghao, fuck I need you inside me.” You desperately whine out. You lifted your hips up to finally hold his hard cock to align it with your pussy, slowly sinking on the thick girth. You throw your head back at the satisfying stretch his dick was making you feel.

“Fuck, you feel so good, so tight and warm,” He moans, he’s not shy about letting you know how good it feels with how vocal he’s being, he takes your right hand and holds it tightly, pressing it against his chest. You could feel his racing heartbeat under his skin, “Let me keep you forever, please, don’t make me beg, run away with me.”

You openly gape at him from this, You’d be a fool to accept this, especially since you’ve only known him for a fraction of the time you knew your husband, but god dammit.

“Take me with you, anywhere you want to go. I’m yours, please take me.” You say desperately. You’ve never been wanted this badly before, and god, you wanted more, for the rest of time.

Minghao abruptly thrusts up into you from this, tightly clenching your hand in his, still pressing on top of his racing heart under the skin. You cry out in pleasure, somehow the sensation of his heart under your palm elevates your pleasure, making you go dizzy at the thought that you’re doing this to him, and only you.

You come close to your climax embarrassingly quick, the sensation of his cock rubbing your velvet walls so perfectly made your head spin. Your ears are ringing so loudly that it almost drowns out your sounds of pleasure, and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Minghao isn’t far from you either, the same dizzying effect taking hold of his mind too. He’s so close to finishing that he could almost taste it, his moans and whines of your name leaving his lips like a mantra, a prayer, even.

“Minghao I’m gonna cum-!” you say frantically, pressing your forehead onto his as he meets your lips with his for the nth time. You swallow the moans he spills into your mouth as you both climax at the same time. His heart still beating frantically under your palm.

“Did you mean that?” You ask breathlessly, “When you said you wanted me forever, did you mean it?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Exactly, I meant it word for word. Let me replace the ring on your finger with mine.” He smiles at you.

In the end, he did replace the ring on your finger with his, much more extravagant, and elaborate. Your husband wasn’t surprised at your sudden request for a divorce, since your marriage was already failing before you met Minghao.

Still, time was the ultimate truthteller.

Your husband found out about your High Infidelity around the middle of your divorce proceedings, and in a rage, he threw you and all your belongings out onto the driveway. In the middle of winter rain.

The rain soaked into your skin, cold and icy piercing you painfully. All your personal belongings were strewn all around you, and your soon-to-be ex-husband was angrily slamming the door shut, but you couldn't help but feel relieved.

After all, you were finally free.

You finished your book, it received critical acclaim and it was a New York Times Best-Seller.

And you got to marry Minghao, the love of your life. Who you were happily married to until the both of you grew old.

FIN.

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xxmaxwellxx · 2 months

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Can someone help me find some Sagau fics?

1. Alhaitham begs to see author/writer reader’s work and they’re a little insecure about their writing so they hand over some of their work and panic about what he thinks about it, eventually reader forgets giving to him only for him to publish their work. Reader panics and goes over to his house and kaveh opens the door and reader asks to speak with alhaitham and when they do he’s spewing praises. Edit: found this one! It’s Language Shenanigans by thatdeadaquarius!

2. There’s some kind of written language barrier in teyvat where the reader can’t read there and the characters can’t understand what they write and alhaitham kinda recognized what the reader was writing so he took them to the library and there’s like slang from 2015 carved into stone and it kinda horrifies reader. Edit: here’s the link! https://www.tumblr.com/thatdeadaquarius/706940879634628608/about-language-brainrot-imagine-writer-creator?source=share

3. Headcannons where the reader is playing shirtless and it flusters the characters, I remember reader going to the character selection and all of them were flustered, blushing and one sqeaked and stuttered through their voiceline

4. Reader stimming by clapping their thighs while playing and the characters are confused and flustered because they think something else is going on, I think xiao was in it and was blushing really hard lol Edit: I couldn’t find this on the master list so here’s the link! https://www.tumblr.com/fandangotales/698730573789806592/500-followers-event-about-your-prompt-could-you-do?source=share

5. Reader gets isekaied to teyvat and is very flustered by the characters because reader thinks they’re hot, they constantly avoid eye contact with the characters and it makes the characters think that looking at reader is some kind of grave sin, eventually reader bumps into zhongli and they make eye contact and reader blushes really hard and stutters and tries to look away but zhongli thinks something is wrong with reader and goes and fetches a healer only to find out that no, there’s nothing wrong with reader they just think the characters are hot. Edit: It’s a simp in Sagau by hiraya-rawr!

6. archons reading readers fanfiction. It somehow got into book form and has been circulating to the archons, I remember zhongli sitting behind the desk at the funeral parlor and being so focused on reading that he didn’t notice reader coming in and reader snatches the book from him only to be horrified because he was reading fanfic they wrote and him being like “is this another universe creator?”

7. The archons reading imposter au fanfic, I remember ei reading it and sobbing because she would never do something like that to the creator and zhongli says he would never kill reader because he’s worshipped them for years and why wouldn’t he recognize the creator???

8. Headcannons where The characters get isekaied into readers world. I remember reader walking into their office and finding the characters and thinking they’re cosplayers so the reader yells to their secretary thinking it’s a joke only for them to be real, I’m pretty sure scaramouche was in this one

9. The reader being isekaied into teyvat and thinking it’s a dream so they go to the dawn winery and gets drunk and accidentally cuts themselves to reveal gold blood, cue everyone freaking out and when diluc comes in for his shift the reader is sobbing asking why he hasn’t come home yet. Edit: Here’s the link! https://www.tumblr.com/hiraya-rawr/677068166680166400/diluc-drunk-creator-reader-creator-reader-waking?source=share

10. Headcannons where Reader likes to play glider chicken with them. They think their god is going to kill them only for them to pull out a glider last second and if the reader does it to much it becomes a tradition or something. Edit: I looked through their master list and I couldn’t find the name so here’s the link! https://www.tumblr.com/fandangotales/698541977190449152/i-have-a-request-for-the-500-follower-event-if?source=share

11. Venti sleeps with reader in their world and when reader is isekaied to teyvat. venti’s upset because the social standards are different and in teyvat if you sleep together that basically means you’re married so he’s upset because I think reader started flirting with the others? The last part is a little foggy but I remember venti being upset because he thought they were exclusive and reader is just like ‘wat?’

12. Reader being isekaied to teyvat and albedo keeping them at his house. They live with albedo and Klee and they only get discovered because they went out for a picnic or something and someone discovers reader and albedo is brought back and is to be punished but reader stops them from punishing them

13. Characters being isekaied to readers world and having nsfw thoughts about everyday items, this one is a little fuzzy so I can’t remember the details but one of them having nsfw thoughts about a spoon and thinking about readers saliva and other doing their laundry and wanking it over the washing machine. Edit: found this one! It’s Reverse isekai, Childe and Heizou in reader's home (MATURE CONTENT). By fandangotales!

14. Reader gets isekaied to teyvat with a gun and shows the characters how to use it

15. Sagau reader helps wanderer/kuni. It’s where reader goes out to his house to help him and at night when they’re in their futons he gets a boner and reader decides to help him in other ways

#fanfic #fanfic finder #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau cult au #sagau x reader #self aware genshin #sentient genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader

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exhuastedpigeon · 2 months

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Buddie Hiatus Fic Rec Oct 16 - Nov 15

yet another list full of some of the most amazing fics I've read. It's wild how talented the writers in this fandom are.

0-5k

take control (mind, body, and soul) by honestlydarkprincess / @honestlydarkprincess Explicit | 2k the one where human Buck wants his vampire boyfriend to compel him during sex. They get nasty with it.

think about all the places we could go by hammersmiths / @henswilsons Teen | 2.4k Athena just looks grieved. “Why, then,” she says, “did you get military-grade handcuffs? Were the pink fuzzy ones not macho enough for you?”

blackout by rainbow_nerds / @rainbow-nerdss Explicit | 3.4k Buck wakes up hungover on Eddie's couch, with no memory of the night before. Eddie's at just as much of a loss as he is, but their friends seem to know something they don't.

The One with the Admissions by BekkaChaos / @bekkachaos Mature | 4.4k After an accidental slip up from Eddie, he's forced to admit that he's dating someone, but he and Buck are still determined to keep their relationship between the two of them. Things do not go smoothly, hidden thoughts and feelings are revealed, and Buck and Eddie have a short lived argument about their relationship.

5k-10k

you saw me (i got nowhere to hide) by buckleyseddie / @buckleyseddieTeen | 5.6k while Buck’s in a coma, Maddie finds herself at the loft one afternoon. There, she finds a heartbroken Eddie and they have a moment.

Out Of Order, Still In Line by callmenewbie / @puppyboybuckley Explicit | 6.2k When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue.

if you go down in the woods today by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 6.3k bad things happen bingo—tranquilizer dart (this fic lives rent free in my head. Amanda you’re a genius)

i have dreams where i kiss you and it’s pink by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuckTeen | 6.3k jee-yun buckley-han's third birthday party is in dire need of some fairy tale magic and buck's attempt to save the day might just be the thing that finally kills eddie

swinging for the fences by inbetweenthestacks / @organizedstardust Teen | 6.4k Buck takes Eddie to a baseball game. (this fic has a line “Is baseball just…math?” that make me laugh so hard)

You, all the way down by justhockey Not rated | 8.3k Suddenly, between one moment and the next, there are hands on him. Hands that Buck would know anywhere; hands that Buck knows maybe even better than he knows his own. The touch is exquisitely gentle - tender to the point of devastation, even though the calloused palms scratch against the soft skin of his cheeks.

It’s Eddie, because of course it is. Because who else would it be.

i'd swim to your call on my phone by heartbeatdiaz / @loserdiaz Teen | 8.5k Buck's daughter keeps calling 9-1-1 for help with her homework, Eddie is smitten and apparently 9-1-1 works better than Tinder.

10k-20k

Got Weird by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Explicit | 10.5k Shortly after Buck and Natalia break up, Eddie gets tipsy and makes a rather forward move. Then immediately panics (not that Eddie panics, of course) and backpedals. Eddie spirals, Buck is confused. Lots of spontaneous kissing ensues.

aching for anything by addandsubtract / @postoperation Explicit | 11.3k “Here,” Hen says, holding out a covered paper cup, steam gently wafting from the mouth opening. “It’s lemon ginger tea. I know you said you’re not getting sick, but you don’t sound great.”

Buck takes the cup and holds it up to his nose, saying, “I’m really fine.”

Hen’s pointedly raised eyebrows are all skepticism.

past the curses and cries (there's me and you) by MonsterRae1 / @monsterrae1 Mature | 11.3k Buck's a witch, Eddie's cursed, can I make it any more obvious?

30k +

remember to remember me by Daffi_990_ao3 / @daffi-990 Explicit | 31.4k

Buck and Eddie finally get together only for lightning to strike a few days later, leaving Buck with no memories of them ever becoming a couple.

Don't They Know It's the End of the World? by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Mature | 32.4k After being put in a cryogenic sleep for over a hundred years to wait out an apocalyptic event, Eddie Diaz wakes up, too early, to find his son has been stolen from his cryo-chamber. Scared and alone in a frightening world he doesn't recognize, Eddie is willing to do anything to get his kid back.

blue eyes and bare walls by Underhung_Aura / @eddiebabygirldiaz Explicit | 45.8k Buck and Eddie are newlyweds and looking to paint their new bedroom. What ensues is the butting of heads, some arguing of both the fun and not fun variety, and desperate paint-filled sex on the floor.

Feels Like Magic by 42hrb Teen | 47.8k An urban fantasy AU where most things are the same, except there's magic

the blue house by ProsperDemeter / @prosperdemeter2 Mature | 65k Eddie Diaz wants nothing to do with the paranormal. He would be perfectly happy if the spirits of the world stopped showing themselves altogether, actually. But when Adriana and Sophia come to town to film on location for their popular YouTube ghost hunting channel and the ghosts in Eddie's life start becoming much more loud and frequent, he gets roped into figuring out just why things in the Los Angeles spiritual world are changing, and not for the better. The children are crying, and Eddie might be the only one who can hear them.

Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels / @letmetellyouaboutmyfeelsExplicit | 67.1k When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15) Month 4 (August 16 - September 15) Month 5 (September 16 - October 15)

#buddie #buddie rec list #buddie hiatus rec list #911 #rec list

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little-diable · 5 months

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I'd rather be with you – Spencer Reid (smut)

I won't lie, I love a good enemies to lovers Spencer fic. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Spencer hate one another, at least in the moments where they're not tangled beneath the sheets.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (m), face fucking, bickering, love confession, enemies to lovers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (2.3k words)

Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every thrust, with every moan leaving her as if it was her last. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every jerk of his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into her. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every call off her name, with every tug on the small pendant dangling between her breasts.

The necklace was a reminder, a reminder whenever Spencer’s eyes snapped down to it, momentarily distracted from the case they were working on – just for a second or two, though seconds too long for a man with a brain like Spencer‘s. She was his nemesis, the one that has taught him what it means to hate somebody, but yet, in the moments where he fucked her on the nearest surface, he couldn’t remember the hate she elicited inside of him.

“Spencer? Shit, I truly fucked your brains out last night, huh?” A dark chuckle left (y/n) as she leaned back against the table, arms crossed in front of her chest. A growl left the smart man, murmuring something under his breath she couldn’t pick up on. And yet her smirk didn’t waver, glued to her lips.

Before Spencer could reply with snarky words rolling off his tongue, Derek had stepped into the room that had been assigned to them. His eyes were focused on his phone, speaking to Penelope with a bright smile – a sight that left (y/n) fawning over the two. Whenever she watched Penelope and Derek interact, she felt some kind of hope burning inside of her, a kind of hope that left her praying that somebody will eventually treat her with this much love and respect.

“I’ll talk to you later, babygirl.” Derek hung up the call before his eyes first found (y/n)’s and then Spencer’s, smirking at the two profilers. “Good to see that you didn’t kill one another while I was gone. Hotch wants you two to visit the unsub’s childhood home again.”

“But we’ve been there this morning?” Spencer cut into the conversation before (y/n) could ask the same question. An annoyed huff left her, very well knowing what he was trying to do, taking away the focus from the woman he couldn’t stand, the woman he had always detested, hated since the first case they had worked together.

“Hotch wants us to go through the photo albums again, maybe we’ve missed something, and why not send our two superbrains to go through the pictures. It’d take the rest of us way too long to do it.” (Y/n) had already reached for her jacket before Derek had finished his sentence, watching with amusement glistening in his eyes how Spencer followed her out of the room, probably already plotting over a new chance to finally murder her.

……

“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer.” Her moans echoed through the foggy bathroom, back pressed against his front as he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. The warm water kept streaming down their bodies, washing away the reminders of the past day, of their arguments, and their bottled emotions.

His teeth left marks on the spot where her neck met her shoulders, drawing pained whines from (y/n). She couldn’t speak up, couldn’t remember how to speak, fully distracted by the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot with every thrust. She was putty in his hands, allowing him to do as he pleased. No matter the spiteful words she wanted to speak, riling him up even further, she kept quiet, not daring to push Spencer away when she was so very close to her release.

“Look at that, did I finally manage to shut you up?” His words were rough, dripping with a mean undertone that momentarily managed to rip her out of her state.

“Fuck you, Spencer, don’t act as if–” her rambling was cut short by the feeling of Spencer pulling away, leaving her empty. (Y/n) clumsily turned around in his grasp, staring up at the man with wide eyes, wondering what was about to happen.

“Onto your knees, it seems like you still haven’t learned your lesson.” She struggled to drop to her knees, holding onto him as the water kept cascading down his back. Spencer forced his cock into her mouth, making her choke on the air lingering inside her lungs. He fucked her mouth with moans clawing through him, sounds that left her swollen bundle of nerves pulsing.

Spencer had always been rough with her, taking the upper hand she claimed around their team, stealing his title of being smarter than them all. He had detested her from the start, jealous of the way she managed to interact with the team, how she seemed to know how to handle every situation, no matter her high IQ. Perhaps it truly was jealousy that had pushed him away, not understanding how someone with an IQ almost as high as his didn’t struggle to with simple interactions like he did, how she made it seem so effortlessly easy.

“You act as if you’re so much better, as if you don’t give a shit about me. But let me tell you something, doll,” a groan left Spencer as one of her hands found his cock, holding onto the part he hadn’t pushed down her throat just yet. “You are nothing special.”

Spencer was too far gone to pick up on the hurt expression tugging on her features, no longer focusing on the sounds he made, on the way his cock rested on her tongue, all she could focus on were his words, the spiteful insults. Her heart skipped a few beats, unsure how to react, not understanding what he was trying to tell her.

“They don’t see through your pathetic games, you’re nothing but an imposter, but trust me, I always win, every single game.” His cock twitched in her mouth, about to cum down her throat, about to force her to swallow his every drop. Perhaps she deserved being treated like this after the things she had said today, the way she had made fun of him - whatever it had been, (y/n) was now paying the price.

He came with a moan, head rolling back, hand gripping her hair. (Y/n) didn’t dare move, unable to stop thinking of the words he had spoken, of the insults he had thrown his way. She barely noticed how he pulled away, how he reached a hand out of her to take, pulling her back to her feet.

No further words were spoken between the two, she didn’t give him a chance to fuck her again, to push her over the edge. She left the shower before he could touch her again, quickly redressing herself to find her way to her hotel room.

……

The sound of somebody softly knocking on her door forced her eyes away from her book. She needed a few seconds to snap into motion, wondering who wanted to speak to her that late in the evening, wondering if it was Hotch to tell her that they had a breakthrough with their case. But the sight of Spencer waiting in front of her door left her frozen in her movements, looking at him with raised eyebrows and confusion swimming in her pupils.

“Can I?” (Y/n) stepped aside, allowing him to find his way into the room, walking towards the bed she had been laying on moments ago. They were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence, looking at one another to try and figure out what he was doing, why he had found his way to her.

“It’s late Spencer, what are you doing here?” Her voice had an unfamiliar undertone to it, urged on by the uncertainty she felt, still focusing on the angry words he had spoken earlier. He cleared his throat, gaze flickering down to his slender fingers, fumbling with them as his mind kept racing, trying to speak up, trying to say the words he struggled to speak out loud.

“I haven’t met many people who have an IQ that’s way above the ordinary, well, at least not normal people who aren’t killers. I am not used to feeling intimidated, but I am used to being the one people make fun of, I am used to feeling alone and to being the outsider. But it had never been like that with the team, they’ve accepted me and the way I am, I didn’t have to prove myself like I had been forced to do before meeting them. But then you joined the team, and suddenly I was once again back to being caught in a fight of proving myself. For the first time in years I no longer feel like I fit in.” His words made tears well up in her eyes, slowly sitting down next to the rambling man with her hand finding his warm one. (Y/n) squeezed his hand, encouraging Spencer to keep on speaking, to let go of the bottled up words he had tried to swallow down for the past months.

“Hating you is so much easier than accepting that you’re everything I’ve always wanted. Hating you is so much easier than forcing myself to accept that I don’t have any reason to be jealous of you, than accepting that you’re perfect for me. You’re everything I’ll never be.” A shaky breath left Spencer, once again allowing the thick silence to wrap itself around the two. She needed quite a few moments to speak up, to see through the information he had just dumped on her.

“I knew that there was some kind of jealousy that left you to treat me like that, and I guess I gave in, I played the game instead of trying to figure out why you acted like that. I am sorry that I make you feel like that, Spence. But fuck, you truly have nothing to be jealous of. You’re so much more than just a smart brain, and whoever won’t see that must be blind.” Their eyes met, making a small smile tug on Spencer’s lips before he titled his head down to softly kiss her. The gasp leaving (y/n) allowed him to deepen the kiss, hand letting go of hers to pull her into his lap.

“I am sorry for being such an asshole who is heavily crushing on you.” A laugh broke through (y/n) at his words, forehead falling against his.

“I am sorry for being such a bitch who is heavily crushing on you.” (Y/n) found herself being pushed down on the mattress, with Spencer laying half on her and half on the mattress, lips locked in a loving kiss. One of his hands started to wander, finding its way under her shirt, down to her panties.

“I owe you at least two orgasms, don’t I?” She couldn’t reply, interrupted by a moan as his fingers pushed her panties aside, finding her pulsing clit. Spencer moved his fingers just the way she needed him to, touching her like he had done numerous times before. Her heart was pounding, mind hazy and filled with lust, purely focusing on Spencer.

“I want to cum on your cock, fuck me again, please Spence.” He shuffled around, pulling her panties down before he freed his hard cock. Neither of them wanted to waste any time, set on properly fucking, needing to feel one another close. (Y/n) watched him spit into his hand, lubing himself up before he pushed into her.

(Y/n)’s moans spurred him on, arms finding their way around his neck, tugging him down for a greedy kiss. He fucked her ruthlessly, though without any anger guiding him, allowing his heart to finally give into the love he felt for her. No longer were they speaking hateful words, no longer were they set on making one another pay for their teasing, fucking like lovers for the first time.

“I love you, so fucking much.” His words left (y/n) gasping in surprise, eyes rolling back into her head the second his skilled fingers found her bundle of nerves. Her sounds made him feel as if he had ascended to heaven, engulfed by the sounds no human had ever been fortunate enough to hear. And even as she spoke the loving three words he had just spoken, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from staring down on her.

Spencer picked up his pace, fucking her into the mattress like a mad man, set on leaving marks that would stay for eternity, never fading, always renewed by his wandering fingers and lips. He marveled at (y/n), hoping that he’d never part from her again, he wouldn’t survive being away from her, needing her like a shot of insulin to save his heart.

“Fuck, feels so good.” His cock stretched her perfectly, forcing her walls to adjust as he kept pounding into her, not holding back with his lips pulled into a smirk and his eyes staring down on her. She clawed her fingernails into his skin, drawing blood from the marks she left, leaving Spencer torn between a hiss and a moan.

The second he added more strength to his touch, rubbing her clit faster than before, she gave in, tumbling over the edge without another warning. His name left her over and over again, guiding him through his own high. She felt him paint her walls white, heard him choke on his moans, saw him collapse on top of her.

And for the first time since they’ve started sleeping with one another, neither of them felt the need to escape, to hide away from the other.

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid x reader #criminal minds smut #Spencer Reid imagine

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