#Brilliant deductions

[blueheartbookclub]

"Masterful Deductions: Navigating the Intricacies of 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes'"

Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" is an enduring collection of detective stories that has captivated readers for over a century. Published in 1892, the book introduces the iconic detective Sherlock Holmes and his loyal companion Dr. John Watson, taking readers on a riveting journey through the foggy streets of Victorian London.

At the heart of the collection is Holmes's unparalleled deductive prowess, showcased in twelve brilliantly crafted tales. The narrative brilliance lies not only in the mysteries themselves but in the meticulous unraveling of each case by the astute detective. The book opens with "A Scandal in Bohemia," where Holmes is faced with the enigmatic Irene Adler, setting the stage for a series of intricate puzzles that defy conventional solutions.

Doyle's writing is marked by its precision and attention to detail, allowing readers to immerse themselves in the gaslit alleys and smoky interiors of 221B Baker Street. Holmes's methods, including his keen observations and logical reasoning, become a literary archetype, laying the foundation for countless detectives in literature and popular culture.

Each story is a standalone masterpiece, showcasing the versatility of Holmes's intellect as he navigates crimes ranging from theft and blackmail to kidnapping and murder. The narrative structure is both engaging and intellectually stimulating, making it a delightful read for mystery enthusiasts and casual readers alike. Doyle seamlessly weaves together elements of suspense, humor, and astute observation, creating a tapestry of tales that stand the test of time.

Holmes's character is a study in contrasts – a brilliant detective with a penchant for solitude, yet one who possesses a genuine affection for his friend Watson. The camaraderie between Holmes and Watson adds a layer of warmth to the stories, providing readers with a relatable entry point into the world of deductive reasoning and crime-solving.

"The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" is more than a collection of detective stories; it is a glimpse into the social fabric of Victorian England. Doyle skillfully addresses issues of class, justice, and morality, creating a nuanced backdrop against which Holmes's investigations unfold. The stories often challenge societal norms, presenting Holmes as a non-conformist figure who relies on logic rather than blind adherence to conventions.

One of the collection's strengths is its ability to keep readers on the edge of their seats, constantly guessing and second-guessing the outcomes. Each story is a puzzle, and the satisfaction of witnessing Holmes untangle the complexities is both intellectually gratifying and emotionally rewarding.

Doyle's legacy is imprinted in the enduring popularity of Sherlock Holmes, who has transcended literature to become a cultural icon. The detective's methods, quirks, and iconic pipe have left an indelible mark on detective fiction, inspiring generations of writers, filmmakers, and enthusiasts.

In conclusion, "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" is a literary gem that continues to shine brightly in the realm of detective fiction. Arthur Conan Doyle's meticulous storytelling and the enduring appeal of Holmes and Watson make this collection a must-read for those seeking a blend of intellectual stimulation, suspense, and timeless storytelling. As the fog lifts over Victorian London, the brilliance of Holmes's deductive powers continues to illuminate the pages, inviting readers into a world where mysteries are solved with unparalleled precision and flair.

Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" is available in Amazon in paperback 18.99$ and hardcover 26.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 533

Language: English

Rating: 10/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[n0ahsferatu]

anyone else get really pissed off when astarion looks at the camera with the biggest wettest eyes known to creation. like GIRL we see them!!!

(inspired by this post:)

[blueheartbooks]

"Masterful Deductions: Navigating the Intricacies of 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes'"

Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" is an enduring collection of detective stories that has captivated readers for over a century. Published in 1892, the book introduces the iconic detective Sherlock Holmes and his loyal companion Dr. John Watson, taking readers on a riveting journey through the foggy streets of Victorian London.

At the heart of the collection is Holmes's unparalleled deductive prowess, showcased in twelve brilliantly crafted tales. The narrative brilliance lies not only in the mysteries themselves but in the meticulous unraveling of each case by the astute detective. The book opens with "A Scandal in Bohemia," where Holmes is faced with the enigmatic Irene Adler, setting the stage for a series of intricate puzzles that defy conventional solutions.

Doyle's writing is marked by its precision and attention to detail, allowing readers to immerse themselves in the gaslit alleys and smoky interiors of 221B Baker Street. Holmes's methods, including his keen observations and logical reasoning, become a literary archetype, laying the foundation for countless detectives in literature and popular culture.

Each story is a standalone masterpiece, showcasing the versatility of Holmes's intellect as he navigates crimes ranging from theft and blackmail to kidnapping and murder. The narrative structure is both engaging and intellectually stimulating, making it a delightful read for mystery enthusiasts and casual readers alike. Doyle seamlessly weaves together elements of suspense, humor, and astute observation, creating a tapestry of tales that stand the test of time.

Holmes's character is a study in contrasts – a brilliant detective with a penchant for solitude, yet one who possesses a genuine affection for his friend Watson. The camaraderie between Holmes and Watson adds a layer of warmth to the stories, providing readers with a relatable entry point into the world of deductive reasoning and crime-solving.

"The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" is more than a collection of detective stories; it is a glimpse into the social fabric of Victorian England. Doyle skillfully addresses issues of class, justice, and morality, creating a nuanced backdrop against which Holmes's investigations unfold. The stories often challenge societal norms, presenting Holmes as a non-conformist figure who relies on logic rather than blind adherence to conventions.

One of the collection's strengths is its ability to keep readers on the edge of their seats, constantly guessing and second-guessing the outcomes. Each story is a puzzle, and the satisfaction of witnessing Holmes untangle the complexities is both intellectually gratifying and emotionally rewarding.

Doyle's legacy is imprinted in the enduring popularity of Sherlock Holmes, who has transcended literature to become a cultural icon. The detective's methods, quirks, and iconic pipe have left an indelible mark on detective fiction, inspiring generations of writers, filmmakers, and enthusiasts.

In conclusion, "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" is a literary gem that continues to shine brightly in the realm of detective fiction. Arthur Conan Doyle's meticulous storytelling and the enduring appeal of Holmes and Watson make this collection a must-read for those seeking a blend of intellectual stimulation, suspense, and timeless storytelling. As the fog lifts over Victorian London, the brilliance of Holmes's deductive powers continues to illuminate the pages, inviting readers into a world where mysteries are solved with unparalleled precision and flair.

Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" is available in Amazon in paperback 18.99$ and hardcover 26.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 533

Language: English

Rating: 10/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[beekeeperspicnic]

will we be able to hug watson

Ooooh interesting!

I think my iteration of Sherlock Holmes enjoys subtle touch over something as all-encompassing and potentially overwhelming as a hug.

So he likes to take Watson's hand/arm, or sit close to him. Should the player make certain choices he might even be able to induce Watson to give him a kiss! But no hugging, as such.

If the player does certain things his little goddaughter/adoptive niece Tilda asks if she can hug him, and he agrees, but only for a pre-agreed upon three seconds precisely.

[bartholomeacorsair]

I saw a few interview clips and can tell Millie Gibson hasn't seen past seasons of doctor who (maybe just overview or few seasons but def not as much as Ncuti)

[familyabolisher]

lol they've only given me 32 hours this week 🙃🙃

[the-henry-cavillian]

Henry Cavill: Unmasking The Best Sherlock Holmes Of All Time

Sherlock Holmes, the legendary detective created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, has been portrayed by numerous actors throughout the years. However, in recent times, one name stands out as the epitome of the iconic character: Henry Cavill. With his charismatic presence, exceptional talent, and attention to detail, Cavill has delivered a Sherlock Holmes portrayal that is unparalleled. Let us delve into why Henry Cavill is undeniably the best Sherlock Holmes ever.

Unwavering Deduction Skills:

Cavill's portrayal of Sherlock Holmes showcases an unparalleled ability to deduce and unravel complex mysteries. His attention to detail and keen observation skills are simply astonishing. From analyzing minute details to connecting seemingly unrelated pieces of information, Cavill's portrayal captures the brilliance of Holmes' deductive reasoning in the most compelling manner.

Captivating Physicality:

Sherlock Holmes is known for his unique physical presence, and Henry Cavill embodies this perfectly. With his tall stature, chiseled features, and striking gaze, Cavill portrays Holmes as an imposing figure who demands attention. His physicality adds an extra layer of authenticity to the character, making his portrayal all the more captivating.

Nuanced Characterization: 

Cavill brings depth and complexity to Sherlock Holmes, going beyond the detective's intellectual prowess. He portrays Holmes as a multidimensional character, with flaws and vulnerabilities that make him more relatable and human. Cavill's performance allows the audience to witness the internal struggles and emotional growth of Holmes, creating a nuanced portrayal that resonates deeply.

Dynamic Chemistry with Watson: 

One of the key dynamics in any Sherlock Holmes adaptation is the relationship between Holmes and his trusted companion, Dr. John Watson. Henry Cavill's chemistry with co-stars and his ability to create a genuine connection shine through in his portrayal of Holmes. The on-screen camaraderie between Cavill and his Watson counterpart adds an extra layer of authenticity to their partnership, making it a joy to watch.

Modern Relevance:

Cavill's portrayal of Sherlock Holmes also brings the character into the modern era, injecting fresh energy and relevance into the iconic detective. He effortlessly navigates Holmes' transition into contemporary society, incorporating technology and modern challenges seamlessly. Cavill's Holmes serves as a bridge between the classic tales of Conan Doyle and the present-day world, making the character accessible to a new generation of fans.

[aroacettorney]

sometimes i do wonder if those people who keep complaining about casey selmore being sherlock holmes bootleg/wannabe realise how boring aup would be if she was literally sherlock holmes. it would entirely change the genre and plot focus.

like, despite her first introduction, her main role in aup is not to be ludgers archnemesis, but his foil character. she is there to highlight, contrast, challenge his pov with regard to the unfairness of the world, and offer a different approach to his problems.

her deductions are not always perfect, because she is not sherlock holmes.

her judgment is sometimes biased and emotional, because she is not sherlock holmes.

her sense of justice in some regards is not absolute and can be shaken, because she is not sherlock holmes.

her purpose every time is not solving a case, because she is not sherlock holmes.

if anything, these differences are what make her indefinitely more unique/interesting *and* reasonably more relevant to the plot. not to mention, how are you gonna give character development to an already well-rounded character?

if i want a 1:1 sherlock holmes adaption, i would just simply go reread arthur conan doyle works. goddamnit.

[shmothman]

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT MOLLY I KNEW IT

[ofglories]

how could a peacock lust for a lion? [ from lionel to escalus! ]

|| Starcrossed Quotes

For a long moment Escalus could only...stare.

Lionel calling him a peacock...? What could it mean? The prince of Verona could only wonder, trying to process it exactly. The whole question, in fact, had him feeling utterly lost and bemused. Was it his manner of dress? How odd if so, in Rider's opinion. Last he had checked he dressed fairly plainly especially for a man of his station. And then, with a small, unpleasant pang in his mind, Helios roused himself to speak with a mocking laughter.

"He's calling you pretty, idiot."

"Don't be absurd," Escalus retorted in his mind before slamming those mental walls back into place, shutting the passenger to his Saint Graph out.

Maybe...

No. Best to not make a further fool of himself by assuming anything!

"By your words I can only assume you've somehow, ah, become aware of my infatuation? Although the peacock comment seems a little unnecessary but I digress." A small cough. "You've done me a disserve by labeling it as lust, Sir Lionel. However you've learned of this, I must however insist that you forget in some way as I would rather get to know you as you are than... Well. I would simply prefer to know you as a person without worrying about that!"

Heavens but he wished he could properly shut out Helios' mocking laughter.

It was the truth! He was no expert in love nor even relationships, so would it not be best to know the man first before revealing anything?

[sabishi-tomo]

OP's tags cause they're important!!

OSHI NO KO (01x07)

A girl with a pretty face. She has a smile like the sun. Her performances are perfect. Her speech and behavior are seemingly all-conquering. Her eyes draw you in by their very nature.

[asidian]

One thing I adore about Dead Boy Detectives is how brilliant the first ten minutes are. The pacing is incredible. You meet the boys, learn who they are, get a peek at what they want, and are shown what their strengths and weaknesses are.

Straight out the gate, you know that Charles is impulsive and more physically protective, and that Edwin is more intellectual and prone to magic. You learn magic exists and this is a setting where an infinite backpack can happen. Edwin gets a chance to show off his deductive skills with their client, and Charles gets to show off his people skills with both the client and the WWI ghost. Six minutes in and we already know these characters.

You learn that this is how these characters function together, and that they know each other well enough to know each others' strengths and weaknesses and rely on each other and compensate for them, respectively. The pacing is lively and attention-grabbing, and the back-and-forth between the office and the scene while they're on the job allows a fantastic showcase of the contrast between how they work together in different situations.

Then we get a look at the deeper need that motivates our two ghosts: staying together, against all odds, even after death, even in the face of Death herself.

And then we segue into another brilliant bit of exposition. Instead of a long, stodgy talking scene that would slow down the pacing, we get shown slices of Crystal acting strangely to explain what's going on.

In the space of ten minutes, we have met our characters, know what drives them, know their status quo, and are ready for that status quo to be upended, all without a single exposition dump.

No wonder this series series was met with critical acclaim. This is brilliant character writing and pacing. I write for a living, and this intro scene had me turning to the person next to me, saying, "THAT'S how you do it."

There's so much to appreciate about Dead Boy Detectives, but I feel like the script doesn't get anywhere near enough attention. Standing ovation for the absolutely brilliant writing, honestly.

[rosebudfics]

Professor!reader and severus being married but hiding it from the students, bc they dont want the gossip and are just private people in general BUT one day sev forgets to take off his wedding ring and the golden trio go on this whole mission to find out who hes married to; completely freaking out when it turns out hes with reader cause theyre complete opposites while teaching

(Sorry if this is too long or doesnt make sense :^ i had this scenario in my head for some time lol)

Secret Lovers

Severus Snape x Professor! Reader

Warnings: use of the name "git" a lot lol, reader is the astronomy teacher but you can swap it out for any class, Snape smacks Ron and Harry

A/N: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH OMG!?!?!?! also this isnt really set in any specific year but its more leaning towards where theyre older since snape you know.. hits ron and harry over the head and harry has the map <3

You and Severus had managed to keep your relationship secret for a couple years now, with the exception of only Minerva and Dumbledore knowing.

Why does anyone else need to know anyway? It was none of their business!

So one regular morning when you and Sev were getting ready for the day in the early hours of the morning, he had somehow forgotten to take his golden band off. You both would usually keep them in a little ring box at home so they were hidden but safe and put them back on at night, but today Severus had just forgotten to take it off.

You would bid your goodbyes at home before you left together, getting one last kiss in before heading back to Hogwarts, then Severus would put his usual cold face back on.

You both headed to your classrooms like normal, Severus still failing to notice the wedding band still on his finger.

When classes started, everything was going how it usually would: he would deduct house points, snapping at kids whenever they would interrupt his teaching, etc. That is until Hermione noticed a particular shine off her teachers hand.

Hermione looked closer before very quietly gasping. "Holy cricket!" She whispered so only Harry and Ron could hear her.

“What?” Ron asked curiously but not very quietly, earning the attention of Severus.

“On Professor Snape’s hand, he was wearing a wedding ring!” She said in a hushed voice.

“You must be crazy Herminone, there's no way that he’s married to someone.” Harry chuckled.

“Yeah, no ones gonna want to let alone be in any relationship with that old git-” Ron was interrupted by getting smacked over the head by Severus, followed up by Harry getting smacked as well.

Hermione just kept quiet, keeping her giggle to herself.

“Would you mind repeating yourself Mr. Weasley?” Severus sneered down at him.

“...no, sorry.” Ron grumbled.

“Mhm. 5 points from Gryffindor, and that's me being generous.”

After class, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all gathered at the library at break. “Are you sure you saw a ring, Hermione? Was it even on his ring finger?” Harry asked as he sat down some books in front of him.

“I'm certain! The real question is though, to who?” Hermione thought for a minute.

“Harry, why can't we just use your cloak to spy on him?” Ron questioned like it was obvious.

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed but Hermione smacked him in the arm.

“That's invading his privacy! It's terribly rude.” She scoffed.

Ron then mocked her, earning a smack. After a while of begs and pleas, she finally caved.

“Alright, alright!” She sighed.

They then all made their way back to the dorm to get everything they needed. Harry also grabbed the Marauders Map so it would be easier to find Snape. And then off they went on their little adventure to hunt down his wife.

They had to do some weaving and dodging to not bump into anyone (they bumped into Neville at some point, terrifying him) until they made it to the staff room. Harry looked down at his map to find Snape and you, they're astronomy teacher, alone.

“What are Professor Snape and Professor y/n doing together?” Ron asked in a confused voice.

Harry hushed him and then looked into the keyhole to find Snape and you talking to eachother.

“Are you sure no one saw the ring?” you asked again.

“Yes, dear, I am sure of it.” Snape said in a somewhat annoyed tone. “If someone did see it, I would be getting hounded with questions!”

“Yeah well not if all the students are terrified of you!” you sighed. “Look I'm not mad, I don't want you to think that, it's just we've gone this long keeping it secret it feels weird to just slip up like this”

Severus stepped towards you and grabbed your face in his hands. “Listen love, no one will know. Maybe in the future we can be more open about it.” He then bent down and kissed her gently, and you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer.

Harry gasped quietly and backed up. He was about to say something before he heard footsteps walking towards the door. “We gotta get outta here!”

They all then scurried off down the hall back to the dormitory.

“Harry, what did you see? What were they doing in there?” Ron asked.

“Its professor y/n, that's who he's married to!” Harry was slightly out of breath from running.

“Professor y/n?? But they're so.. so different!” Hermione was shocked.

“You must be seeing things mate, there's NO way Proffesor y/n is married to the old git.” Ron scoffed.

“I'm telling you! They were talking about how he had forgotten to take his ring off or something and then they kissed!” Harry gushed.

They then talked about why you would ever want to marry Snape for the rest of break. Interestingly enough they next class was with you!

Since you were an extremely nice and open teacher, they felt more comfortable talking to you about it.

"So professor y/n, have you been seeing anyone lately?" Ron asked before class actually started.

You were caught off guard to say the least. "Well... I dont really see how my romantic life concerns any of you," you laugh whole heartedly.

Ron then smirked. "You never denied it. Perhaps another Proffesor that teaches here!" Hermione pinched his side as a warning to shut up.

"I don't know what your getting at, Ron" you chuckle becoming a little worried.

"Well the man I'm thinking of is a mean, old, cranky git that likes potions-"

"Thats enough! You don't ever talk about another Proffesor like that!" You scolded him.

"Alright, sorry proffesor... but im right, aren't i?" Ron smirked.

Harry and Hermione perked up to listen.

You sighed, before making sure that no other student or teacher was around, nd then said "You must not tell anyone."

[mariasont]

What if I put an insane little idea in your head and let it bounce around? Mid seasons (7/8 ish?) Spencer with a kinnda sorta fangirl? She just started at the BAU and it’s not that she’s weird about him but she does have like 3 of his papers memorized down to the letter and she “possibly quoted him on her college application essay” (it’s the literal conclusion).

Like she’s just this little ball of excitement and he has no clue what to do when the team is like “ask her out for the love of god and stop making heart eyes when she lets you nerd out”

Sorry if this makes no sense it’s 2:30 in the morning

FANGIRL - S.R

a/n: AHHHHH BECAUSE WHAT IF I JUST SMOOCHED YOU

loved, loved, LOVED this idea and writing it! you are amazing <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: reader being a fangirl for reid because WHO WOULDNT BE UGH

wc: 1.2k

"Dr. Reid, hi, it's such an honor. I'm the new agent."

You give him your name, hand extended out to him, bouncing off the balls of your feet. There was a badge pinned to your shirt, the clip attached to it gleaming in the fluorescent light, which despite its usual severity, seemed to soften around you.

Spencer comes to a standstill, his coffee suspended mid-sip, documents wrinkled in his hands as he assesses you. You are pretty. exceedingly so, but he's having trouble processing it, his mind still shrouded in the remnants of sleep. 

He blinks away his surprise. "Nice to meet you. Hotch must've briefed you about the team, I assume?"

He adjusted the heap of papers to under his arm, freeing his hand to meet yours. The softness he encountered prompted a momentary pause, awakening a sudden urge to not let go. However, he promptly set aside the thought, releasing your hand with a concealed hesitation. 

You fiddled with your earlobe, you shot him a sheepish smile. "Yeah, Hotch did, but I already knew a bit about you. I've always been a fan of your work. I mean, not like a fan per se, because that would be weird, right? But I've read all your papers, and they're just... they're brilliant, honestly."

Spencer was clearly caught off guard, his brows leaping upwards as he surveyed you. You weren't lying--that much was clear to him. He could see it in the way you met his eyes with an enthusiasm so bright it was nearly blinding.

"My work? You're actually familiar with it?"

A soft giggle bubbled from you, a sweet sound that seemed to momentarily leave him winded. He placed his coffee on the desk, leaning back slightly. 

"Oh, definitely. Your research on chemical composition analysis in narcotics? I've read it so many times I could probably recite it in my sleep."

He considered the possibility of you exaggerating. He took great pride in his work and (without sounding too cocky) he was well aware of its significance and contribution to his field. However, there's a difference between knowing your work is recognized and encountering someone who has internalized it to such a degree--especially someone like you. He suddenly felt a touch of self-consciousness.

"I'm sorry, that was too much, right? I promised I'd play it cool, and then I saw you and... well, it's all just really surreal," you said before gesturing vaguely towards the bullpen. "Anyway, I'm going to go, uh, find my desk."

You hurried away before he could refute your words, head bowed. He felt like an ass.

The day threw him off balance. His contributions to the team lacked their usual insight, his mental gears turning more slowly. And for some inexplicable reason, he found himself preoccupied with thoughts of you. He attempted to rationalize it as a reaction to your interest in his work, a level of admiration that was a rare find. Unlike the formal niceties from others, your excitement about his work, about him, stood out.

He tried to latch onto Hotch's deductions about the unsub, willing his intellect to snap to attention and offer up a decent theory. However, a glance in your direction derailed his efforts. You were bent over the desk, your hands animatedly navigating through the papers. He was happy to see your enthusiasm was there despite his lack thereof earlier.

"Based on the geographic profiling and the choice of victims, it looks like the unsub has a background in urban planning."

Emily nods, "Good theory. What led you to that?"

He watches the anxious flicker in your eyes, glancing towards him, hands clasped together as you incline your head his way.

"Actually, I read about a similar case in Dr. Reid's paper on The Spatial Patterns of Serial Offenses." It strikes him then--he hasn't yet invited you to use his first name, adding another tick to the ever-growing list of ways he feels he's been inadvertently discourteous. "The clustering of crime scenes near arterial routes suggests the offender leverages the urban grid to facilitate escape and avoid detection. Embarrassingly enough, that was the topic of my college application essay."

Spencer was momentarily speechless (not something that happened often), his mind racing through the physiological response to shock--catecholamine release, vagal tone alterations, even transient arrhythmias--mirroring the way his heart seemed to skip a beat. You really did have his work memorized.

"That's, uh, right," he said, his voice gaining momentum. "By leveraging the urban grid, the offender not only evades capture but also creates a psychological terrain of control."

Hotch nodded in agreement, turning your attention to a series of photographs.

Before Spencer even looked her way, he could sense Garcia's stare, and as he turned, she prodded him with her elbow, smirking. "Seems like she's quite the match for you, doesn't she?"

"Huh? What? No, I mean--she's my coworker, and besides, she's much younger." Spencer was quite sure he sounded anything but convincing.

Garcia raises an eyebrow, shaking her head. "I meant in terms of smarts, but oookay, Spencer."

She walked out with a bounce in that definitely hadn't been there earlier, and Spencer was left with a red face.

He had every intention of pulling you aside, to apologize for earlier, to reassure that he didn't find you odd or weird, and to admit that he was genuinely flattered. But it appeared that every time he had a chance to make it to your desk, you had vanished, or were in deep conversation with JJ, or inside Hotch's office.

It was a relentless cycle that persisted until the end of the day, when everyone began to leave--except for you, who remained still firmly planted at your desk, fervently jotting notes into your notebook.

Absorbed in your work, you didn't notice his approach until he cleared his throat.

"Hey," he said softly.

Startled, you flinched, prompting him to immediately feel like shit. Strike three. You laughed off the shock when you realized it was him, moving your notebook aside, offering him your undivided attention.

"Sorry, Dr. Reid, hi! How's it going? Is there something I can do for you?"

"I thought I'd see if you needed help with anything, and you can call me Spencer, if you want." He glanced at his watch. "Are you still working?"

You pushed a piece of hair from your face and nodded towards the formidable pile of forms. 

"Spencer, okay," you said, like you were testing it out, "and just sorting through a mountain of onboarding paperwork."

He nodded, hesitating slightly before speaking. "Listen, I need to apologize for earlier."

You tilted your head. "What for?"

"I think I wasn't as welcoming as I intended to be."

"That's okay, I know I was a bit intense."

He shook his head. "No, you weren't. It's just... It's rare that my work gets much attention. I'm happy you appreciated it. If there's a specific topic that you're more interested in, maybe I could explain more about it sometime?"

You glanced down at your hands, trying to hide the smile that was blooming there. You weren't successful. When you looked back up, Spencer felt a little bit awestruck by your eyes, the flecks of color that he could now see clearly.

"I'd love that. Maybe over coffee?" you suggested.

"Yeah, sure." He could feel the heat rushing up his neck. 

He reluctantly parted ways, leaving you to your paperwork, and as he approached the elevator, Penelope was there.

"You know, sugar, maybe I did mean quite the match in a romantic way. So, are you going to ask her out, or shall I play Cupid?"

He blushed. "I think she might have just beat me to it."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @r-3dlips @m-indkiller @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @reiderrambles

join my taglist here!

[hitomisuzuya]

it’s always nerd scara x reader, what about nerd reader who scara thinks is inexperienced, but they give him a real good time🫣

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. blowjob. riding. virgin! reader.

anything for you, my dear❤️ scara is about to get real humbled. i am blowing you kisses with this once i post it. mwah!

the blush on your cheeks couldn't have been darker seeing the way scaramouche was looking at you. it was predatory, a wolf staring down the prey he is finally going to get to devour. his smirk as he spoke very obviously showed the dark excitement. "i'll bet you are a virgin," his mouth watered seeing the way you looked away shyly.

"what does that have to do with anything?" you posed the question to him to cover up how flustered you really are. naturally, more words came out. "and anyways, is virginity really a concept? it's the first time someone has sex with someone, right?"

despite the aching in his cock, scaramouche was curious to see where this went. "brilliant deduction, sherlock. go on," he crossed his arms.

you continued once he raised an eyebrow. "so say you have sex with someone for the first time, and then you go have sex with someone else for the first time? does that make you a virgin again?"

look at you, turning such a concept on its head and sideways. he swore he felt his cock get harder. it didn't make any sense to him, but he logically hadn't thought of it that way before.

cute, foolish blustering.

he was going to fucking ruin you.

"it's all about sensation. anyone who even reads about sex or even..even watch it," he almost snorted at how twice as shy you sounded, hardly being able to say porn. "i'll prove it," even as you said it, holding your head a little high, he could tell you were second guessing yourself.

you'd had to speak fast, before he could cut in a biting comment that would make you lose brittle confidence. but, you fiercely knew you had to stand your ground.

especially with scara.

scaramouche certainly didn't expect to be in the position he was in now. he wanted to see you beg and crumble apart, beg for him to take care of you because you didn't know what you were doing. shatter in your desperation to have his cock impaling you.

the shoe had never been on the other foot so much in his life.

his electric eyes are a little wide with shock as he looked down at you on your knees, looking impossibly cute with your tongue licking slow lines up and down his cock.

he hissed through his teeth as you prodded your tongue in his slit, circling his cockhead before sucking until drool rolled down his cock. he squirmed as you lowered your mouth on his cock, slowly flattening your tongue as his it pulsed against it.

you were taking the concept of sensation and smashing it with a well thrown rock.

his legs shook, his hand folding a handful of your hair into his hand. his eyes nearly rolled back in his head, his hips jerking up to push his cock deeper into your mouth. you were sucking and grinding your mouth on his cock in a way that made him see stars.

you wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it on what wasn't in your mouth. through watery eyes, scaramouche could tell you were fighting the urge to look away shyly. but never once did your pretty eyes stray from him.

they were trained on his every twitch, and reaction as moans started to bubble in his throat. you had a point to prove. experience sometimes meant jack shit.

you muffled a moan on his cock as his hand tightened in your hair. he held your mouth down on his cock, pushing into your throat. your pliable throat felt divine convulsing around his cock as you gagged.

he couldn't even jump on the fact you seemed to enjoy being handled roughly, latching onto it and devouring you with the fact. your mouth just felt too fucking good. "f-fuck, i think i am cumming," he groaned, his thighs quaking as you recovered your breathing and started sucking again.

you made it this far, surprising yourself in the process. you felt his fingers loosen on your hair after a few moments of bobbing your mouth on his cock, thrusting somewhat carelessly. the glare he shot you as you suddenly took your mouth off his cock sent a shiver up your spine.

"w-what do you think you are doing, slut?" scaramouche growled as you got to your feet and wiped your mouth.

"proving it to you," you quickly said, putting your hands on his shoulders. you knew if you even showed a moment of weakness, scaramouche would grab it by the throat and squeeze, and all your plans would go up in smoke.

you shook a little bit as you straddled his lap. sucking him off for the first time left your pussy dripping and almost embarrassingly wet. the throbbing in your clit spurred you on as you settled his cock between your folds.

you sighed shakily as you glided your pussy on his hard cock. groaning, his hand went to your hip, the other grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. "bounce like your life depends on it, slut," he moaned, lowering you down onto his cock a little more carelessly than he meant to.

he needed to feel your pussy stretching around his cock, the ache from the not getting to cum sent him reeling. he shivered as your fingernails dug into his shoulders, your walls fluttering to clench around his cock hearing his degradation.

he would've degraded you more, but your cunt felt too tight and warm for him to find words. your back arched, your body tensing in pain the sudden from quick intrusion of his cock. sighing shakily, his fingers found your clit.

a moan tore from your throat, your clit pulsing under the pads of his fingers. jolts of pleasure ebbed the pain away so fast it left you dizzy. he bottomed out as you rolled your hips down. "it's all..about.. sensation, remember?" he moaned encouragingly to soothe you.

don't think for one second that just because you are literally fucking humbling him, that he wasn't going take care of you. (real man behavior in only the best of ways, in your opinion.)

his thumbs grazed over your hips as you started bouncing. he rocked his hips up to nudge his cock into your sweet spot, letting you set your own pace. his body was turning to jelly fast, your walls squeezing his cock so tight that he thought he was going to cum right then.

he may have been falling apart, but you were falling apart faster. your head spin as tightness coiled in your core. the lewd sounds of his cock squelching and out of your pussy, your thighs smacking against his as you fucked yourself down onto his cock mingled with his husky moans.

"fuck..good girl.. fucking hell keep going," scaramouche hissed, guiding your pace on his cock. you gasped in pleasure, your whole body shaking as his cockhead assaulted your sweet spot. the sensation bubbled over any other pain, swallowing you as you chased your high.

he laughed shakily hearing how shameless your moans sound. "i was right to want to keep you," he moaned, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his cock pulsed strong between your walls, "a perfect, fuckable pet," he was babbling now, lost in the sensation of your cunt swallowing his cock.

you tightened your thigh muscles for extra friction as you bounced. you couldn't barely think, but you were proving your point. his cheeks were flushed, whimpers bubbling in his throat as one arm snaked up to the small of your back.

he hastily buried his face in your neck to muffle his moans tinged with soft whimpers. the knot of your orgasm broke apart, overwhelmed by the pleasure of hearing him refer to you as his pet. "scaramouche!" you cried out, barely able to hold yourself up as you creamed hard on his cock.

he lifted his head from your neck, scooping one of your nipples into his mouth to suck on, nursing you through your orgasm. there was still more than enough for him to break apart your innocence like he fantasized about.

but for now, he was going to enjoy cumming inside of your pretty cunt.

an innocent nerd like you is always breakable.

[prentissmultiverse]

No Strings to Hold Us - part I

You are distracted by your boss, Emily Prentiss, who stirs something inside you with the habit of licking her lips. Emily, aware of the effect she has, toys with you and one thing leads to another. tw: smut, age gap, power dynamics

(words: 5474)

The bullpen was unusually quiet as the team filtered into the conference room, files in hand and tension crackling in the air. Another case, another unsub to catch. You slid into your seat at the round table, trying to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. Being the youngest member of the BAU, you still felt like you had to prove yourself every day, even though you knew you were damn good at your job.

Emily Prentiss stood at the head of the table, commanding everyone’s attention effortlessly. Her presence was magnetic—controlled, dominant, and sharp as a razor. Her salt-and-pepper hair framed her face perfectly, a mixture of maturity and elegance that left you speechless more often than you’d like to admit. And then there was her habit—the one that had started to ruin you in every meeting: the way she licked her lips when she was deep in thought.

It was subtle, almost absentminded, as if she didn’t even realize she was doing it. But every time her tongue darted out to wet her lips, your stomach did a little somersault, and your concentration went straight out the window.

"Alright," Emily began, her voice smooth and authoritative. "This unsub has escalated over the last three months. Six victims, all within a 50-mile radius, each killed in a similar fashion. This means we’re likely dealing with someone organized, methodical, and—" She paused, tilting her head slightly as she flipped through the case file, her sharp eyes scanning the pages. And then it happened.

She licked her lips.

It wasn’t deliberate—it never was. Her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip just enough to catch the light. Your pulse quickened, heat rising to your face as your focus wavered. God, did she even know how that looked? How it felt to watch her do something so simple, so unintentionally seductive?

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, gripping the edge of the table as you tried to ground yourself. Emily continued speaking, completely unaware of the effect she was having on you—or at least, you thought she was. Her tone was steady, her posture commanding, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes when she glanced your way. Amusement, maybe? No, you were probably imagining it.

“Y/L/N.” Her voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you jolted slightly in your chair. “What do you think the unsub’s next move might be?”

You blinked, your brain scrambling to catch up. “Uh… well, um…” You cleared your throat, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. “Given the escalation pattern and the fact that the last victim was found near a transportation hub, it’s possible the unsub is planning to expand their hunting ground. They might feel emboldened enough to target someone in a more populated area.”

Emily’s lips curved into a small, approving smile, and your stomach flipped again. “Good. I want you to follow up on that lead with Garcia. See if there’s any surveillance footage we can use to track movements near the crime scenes.”

You nodded quickly, grateful for the opportunity to escape her gaze. “Yes, ma’am.”

The meeting continued, but you couldn’t focus. Not when Emily leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled as she listened to Tara’s analysis. Not when she licked her lips again—this time slower, as if she was savoring the thought of whatever brilliant deduction she was about to make. It made your cheeks burn, and you dropped your gaze to your file, pretending to take notes.

By the time the meeting ended, your nerves were frayed. You gathered your things quickly, hoping to slip out before anyone noticed how flustered you were. But as you reached the door, a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/L/N.” Emily’s tone was firm but not unkind, and you turned slowly to face her. She stood just a few feet away, her dark eyes studying you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Yes, ma’am?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Her lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Good work today. You’ve got a sharp mind, even if you’re a little… distracted at times.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was that a double entendre, or were you reading too much into it? “Thank you,” you mumbled, clutching your file like a lifeline.

Emily’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she nodded, her expression shifting back to one of professional detachment. “Get those leads to Garcia.”

You nodded quickly and hurried out of the room, your mind racing. As you walked away, you couldn’t help but wonder if Emily Prentiss was as oblivious to her effect on you as you thought—or if she was perfectly aware and enjoyed watching you squirm.

You spent the rest of the day in Garcia’s office, burying yourself in surveillance footage and databases, hoping the work would distract you from the lingering heat in your chest. But no matter how hard you tried, your thoughts kept circling back to Emily.

The way she stood at the head of the table, commanding attention with such ease. The way she smiled, so rare and deliberate, like a reward for those lucky enough to earn it. And, of course, the way her lips moved when she spoke, the soft, unconscious gestures that seemed designed to drive you insane.

By the time you emerged out of Garcia’s office, your head was spinning. You sat down at your desk, wanting to sum up the info you and Garcia found. After some moments you looked up, seeing Emily sitting at her desk, her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

You hesitated, unsure if you should interrupt. She was engrossed in a file, her brow furrowed in concentration. And then—of course—it happened again. She licked her lips slowly and you felt that same maddening twist in your stomach.

This was ridiculous. You were a professional—a damn good one, at that. You couldn’t let something as simple as a habit distract you. Resolving to pull yourself together, you knocked softly on her doorframe.

Emily glanced up, her dark eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, her expression was unreadable, and then her lips curved into that faint, knowing smile. “Agent Y/L/N. What can I do for you?”

You stepped inside, clutching your file tightly. “I wanted to give you an update. Garcia and I reviewed the footage, and we found a car that matches the description of one seen near the second and third crime scenes. She’s running the plates now.”

“Good work,” Emily said, leaning back in her chair. She took off her glasses and set them on the desk, her gaze never leaving yours. “Anything else?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny. “No, ma’am. That’s it.”

She tilted her head slightly, studying you in that way she always did, as if she could see right through you. “You seemed a little off in the meeting earlier,” she said, her tone casual but probing. “Everything alright?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was she calling you out? You forced yourself to meet her gaze, even though the intensity of it made your skin tingle. “Yes, ma’am. I’m fine. Just… focused on the case.”

Her smile widened ever so slightly, and there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Focused, huh?” she said, her voice dropping to a lower, almost teasing register. “You sure about that?”

Your throat went dry. “I—uh—yes, ma’am,” you stammered, your face burning. “Completely focused.”

The bullpen had emptied out, the rest of the team heading home to get some much-needed rest. You stayed behind, hoping the quiet would help you focus, but every time you tried to concentrate, your mind wandered back to Emily.

And then, as if summoned by your thoughts, you heard footsteps. Your stomach twisted as Emily appeared from around the corner, holding a file in one hand and her coffee mug in the other. Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to drive you insane, and the loose strands of her hair framed her face in a way that felt almost too casual, too intimate for the professional distance you were supposed to maintain.

“Still here?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as she walked toward you. Her voice was smooth and low, cutting through the silence like a knife.

You nodded, unable to look directly at her. “Yes, ma’am. Just… finishing up.”

Emily hummed softly, setting her coffee mug down on the edge of your desk. “You’re dedicated. I admire that.” She leaned against the desk again, her posture casual but her presence overwhelming. “But you’ve been distracted the last days.”

The words hit you like a brick wall. There was no way to avoid it now. You looked up at her, your heart pounding. “I… I’m sorry if it seemed that way. I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop,” she said, cutting you off with a raised hand. Her voice was firm but not unkind. “I’m not chastising you, Y/L/N. I’m just… curious.”

You blinked, your mind racing. “Curious?”

Emily tilted her head slightly, studying you with those piercing dark eyes. “You’re a good agent,” she said softly. “Sharp, focused, intuitive. But it felt like your mind was somewhere else. Or maybe… on someone else.”

The air between you crackled with tension. Was she implying what you thought she was implying? You struggled to form a coherent response.

“I—uh—no, ma’am, I was just—”

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Y/N, I’ve been doing this job for a long time. I can read people better than they’d like. And right now, I’m reading you.”

You froze, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might break through your ribs. Emily’s gaze was steady, unwavering, and you felt completely exposed under her scrutiny.

“You’ve been watching me all day,” she continued, her tone soft but laced with unmistakable intent. “I could feel it in the briefing, in my office, even across the bullpen. Am I wrong?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but no words came out. The truth was right there, hanging between you, and there was no point in pretending anymore.

“I…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… it’s just… you…”

Emily’s lips curved into that maddeningly knowing smile, and she leaned in even closer, her face just inches from yours. “Me?” she prompted, her voice teasing. “What about me?”

Your breath hitched, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and desire. “You… you’re distracting,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “The way you—your presence—it’s… hard to ignore.”

For a moment, Emily didn’t say anything. She just stared at you, her expression unreadable. And then, to your shock, she smirked—like she’d just confirmed something she’d suspected all along.

“Is that so?” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous. “Well, that’s… interesting.”

Before you could respond, she straightened and walked around to your side of the desk. You turned in your chair to face her, your pulse racing as she leaned down, bracing her hands on the armrests. The proximity was almost unbearable; you could see every detail of her face, feel the warmth of her breath.

“You should’ve said something sooner,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I could’ve… helped you focus.”

Your breath caught in your throat as her words sank in. Was she serious? Or was this just another game, another test? Either way, you were utterly powerless to stop the way your body responded to her.

“I—” you started, but the words died on your lips as Emily leaned in, her face so close that you could feel the heat of her skin. For a moment, you thought she might kiss you, but instead, she shifted slightly, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered:

“Do you want me to stop?”

The question sent a shiver down your spine, and you clenched the arms of your chair, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. Every instinct told you this was dangerous, that you were crossing a line you could never uncross. But in that moment, all you could think about was her—her voice, her touch, her overwhelming presence.

“No,” you whispered, barely able to get the word out.

As Emily leaned back, her tongue darted out to lick her lips in that maddeningly way she always did. Your eyes flicked to the movement, helpless to stop yourself, and when you looked back at her, she was watching you with an intensity that made your stomach twist.

Her gaze was sharp and calculated, every flicker of emotion on your face seemingly absorbed and cataloged. There was something unnervingly predatory about the way she looked at you, a slight curve to her lips that wasn’t quite a smile—it was something darker, something laced with triumph. She leaned back against the desk, crossing her arms, and regarded you in silence for a moment that stretched too long.

“You’re coming with me,” she said finally, her voice calm but firm, leaving no room for argument.

You blinked, your mind still trying to catch up. “To…?”

She smirked, tilting her head just slightly, her dark eyes never leaving yours. “Home. My home.”

Her words sent a jolt through you, and you swallowed hard, your pulse racing. “Are you serious?”

Emily pushed off the desk with a languid grace, stepping closer to you. “I don’t say things I don’t mean,” she said, her voice low and even. “You’ve had a long day, and so have I. And judging by the way you’ve been looking at me—” her tongue flicked out briefly to wet her lips, and your stomach clenched, “—I think we could help each other.”

“Help each other?” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

Her smirk deepened, and she stepped even closer, her body just inches from yours. “You’re touch-starved, Y/N,” she said bluntly, her tone tinged with a knowing amusement. “And so am I. This doesn’t have to be anything more than what it is. Just two people fulfilling a need. Nothing serious.”

Your cheeks burned at her words, and you opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She was right, of course. Every stolen glance, every moment your breath hitched at the sound of her voice or the way she carried herself—it all betrayed you. And the way she said it, so matter-of-factly, left you feeling exposed in a way you couldn’t explain.

“I see the way you react,” Emily continued, her voice softening slightly, though it lost none of its edge. “Every time I do this…” She licked her lips again slowly, her eyes locking onto yours as if daring you to look away. Your breath hitched, and her smirk widened. “You’re so easy to read, Y/N. It’s almost endearing.”

“I—” you started, your voice shaky, but she silenced you with a single raised brow.

“Don’t overthink this,” she said firmly, her hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch was gentle, almost too much in contrast to her dominant energy. “We both want this. So, let’s stop pretending we don’t.”

Her confidence left you reeling, and before you could process it fully, she was pulling back. “Come on,” she said, her tone casual now, as though she hadn’t just unraveled you completely. “Let’s go.”

The drive to her house was a blur. Emily’s composure was unshakable, her hands steady on the wheel as she navigated the quiet streets, while you sat in silence, stealing glances at her and trying not to let your mind spiral. Every flick of her tongue across her lips, every shift of her posture, seemed calculated, designed to keep you on edge.

When you finally arrived, Emily led you inside with quiet confidence, closing the door behind you and leaning back against it for a moment. The air between you felt electric, charged with tension and anticipation. She crossed her arms, her gaze raking over you with a slowness that made your skin prickle.

“Still with me?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I’m here.”

Her smirk returned, and she pushed off the door, stepping toward you with the same predatory grace she’d shown earlier. “Good,” she murmured. “Because I think we’ve both waited long enough.”

As she reached you, her hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to meet hers. Her lips claimed yours in a kiss that was firm and demanding, her tongue teasing along your lower lip before slipping inside. The flicks of her tongue mirrored the way she licked her lips, and you couldn’t help but melt into her, your body pressing against hers as she took control.

“Bedroom,” Emily murmured against your lips, her voice rough, commanding.

You nodded wordlessly, letting her guide you. She stood, keeping you close as you stumbled toward her room. Her hands never left your body, steady and grounding as you entered the dimly lit space. It was exactly what you’d expect from her—minimal, clean, with just enough personal touches to feel lived-in. But you barely had time to take it in before Emily turned you around, pressing you against the closed door.

Emily’s hands were everywhere as she pressed you against the door, her lips devouring yours with a mixture of hunger and control that left you trembling. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension, a dangerous mix of desire and need that neither of you could resist. Deep down, you knew how wrong this was—the power dynamics, the age gap, the impropriety of it all.

As if sensing your thoughts, Emily broke the kiss. “You don’t overthink this,” she said against your lips, her voice low and firm. “Not tonight.”

You nodded, your breath hitching as she moved her lips to your neck, nipping and sucking in a way that left you dizzy.

She pulled back, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Bed. Now.”

Her voice was low, commanding, and you obeyed without hesitation, letting her guide you backward until your knees hit the mattress. You sank down, your heart pounding as she hovered over you, her dark eyes raking over your body with a look that made your stomach twist. Slowly, Emily began unbuttoning her blouse, her gaze never leaving yours. She wasn’t in a rush—this was a game to her, and she intended to savor every moment.

When the fabric slid off her shoulders, you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail over her. She was stunning, her confidence and poise radiating from every inch of her. Emily smirked, clearly enjoying the way you stared at her, and leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of your head.

“You look nervous,” she teased, her lips brushing against your cheek.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not nervous.”

“Liar,” she murmured, her lips trailing down your jaw. “But I like that. I like how you react to me.”

Her words sent a flush of heat through you, and your breath hitched as her hands moved to the hem of your shirt. “Can I?” she asked, her voice soft but firm.

You nodded, unable to form words, and she pulled your shirt over your head in one smooth motion. Her hands skimmed over your bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. She took her time exploring, her fingers brushing over your shoulders, your collarbone, the curve of your waist. When her hands settled on your hips, she leaned down, her lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Emily,” you breathed, your hands clutching at her arms as she kissed her way down your throat.

“Shh,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing. “Just let me take care of you.”

She kissed her way down your chest, her hands sliding up to cup your breasts through your bra. Her thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you arched into her touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Emily smirked, clearly pleased with your reaction, and reached behind you to unclasp your bra. She slid it off and tossed it aside, her eyes darkening as she took in the sight of you.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, her voice filled with lust.

Her lips found your collarbone, then trailed lower, her tongue flicking over your nipple in a way that made your back arch. Her hands held you firmly in place as her mouth worked its way across your chest. You felt like you were unraveling beneath her, your body responding to her touch in ways you didn’t know were possible.

“Emily, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

“Patience,” she replied, her tone teasing. “I’m not done with you yet.”

She kissed her way down your stomach, her hands sliding over your thighs as she moved lower. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, and she glanced up at you, her eyes meeting yours. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed, barely able to get the word out.

She smiled, a rare softness in her expression, and tugged your pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. Her hands caressed your thighs, her touch firm but gentle, as she settled between your legs. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“You’re shaking,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing. “Relax, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

Her words should have embarrassed you, but instead, they only made you want her more. You nodded, your hands clutching at the sheets as she kissed her way up your thigh, her breath warm against your skin. When her lips finally found your center, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you.

Her lips and tongue moved with expert precision, every stroke and flick drawing sounds from you that you couldn’t control even if you wanted to. Emily hummed against you, the vibration sending shivers through your body, and her strong hands gripped your thighs to keep you steady as your hips moved instinctively toward her. The wet heat of her mouth and the relentless attention she lavished on you had your head spinning.

Your hands were clutching at the sheets, your body arching instinctively as she brought you right to the edge. The pressure in your core was unbearable, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, and just when you thought you’d finally find relief, she stopped.

You whimpered, your hips bucking forward as if chasing the sensation she had so cruelly denied you. “Emily,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation.

She looked up at you from between your thighs, her lips glistening and curved into a smug smirk. “Not yet,” she said, her voice calm and authoritative, leaving no room for argument. She placed a firm hand on your hip, holding you in place. “You’ll come when I decide you’re ready, not a second before.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, the dominance in her tone igniting something deep inside you. All you could do was nod, your body trembling with need as you submitted to her control.

“Good girl,” she murmured, her hand trailing down your thigh before she pulled back. She climbed off the bed, moving to the bedside drawer, and your breath hitched as you watched her retrieve the harness. She took her time, adjusting the strap with practiced ease, her movements commanding. The way she carried herself, so confident and in control, left you breathless.

“You’re going to let me take you,” she said as she climbed back onto the bed, her dark eyes locking onto yours. “And you’re not going to hold back. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Emily,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your heart raced in anticipation.

She smirked, clearly satisfied with your response, and leaned down to brush her lips against yours in a kiss that was more of a statement than an act of affection. “Good,” she said softly, her voice dripping with authority. “Now spread your legs for me.”

You obeyed without hesitation, your body trembling as she positioned herself between your thighs. Her hands were firm as they gripped your hips, holding you in place as she lined herself up with you. The sheer presence of her was overwhelming, her dominance filling the room.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she commanded, her voice low and steady as she pressed into you. The stretch was perfect, intense and all-consuming, and your eyes fluttered shut for a moment as a moan escaped your lips.

“Eyes,” she said firmly, her tone sharp enough to snap your attention back to her. “I want to see you.”

Your gaze locked onto hers, and the intensity of her expression made your breath catch. She began to move, her pace slow at first, drawing out every sensation as she watched you intently. Every roll of her hips was calculated, her movements designed to drive you closer to the edge while keeping you firmly under her control.

“You’re mine tonight,” she said, her voice low and commanding as she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear. “Every sound, every movement, every breath—it’s all for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you gasped, your hands clutching at her shoulders as she quickened her pace, her dominance consuming you completely.

And as she took you apart piece by piece, her name fell from your lips like a prayer, a surrender to the woman who had claimed every part of you without question.

“You take this so well,” Emily murmured, her voice dark and laced with approval, her breath hot against your skin. The words sent a jolt through you, your body arching instinctively as she drove deeper, her movements commanding and relentless.

Her hips moved faster now, each thrust purposeful and precise, the pace leaving you breathless as the pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo. But she didn’t stop there. One of her hands slid down your body, her fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you crying out the moment she touched it. Her fingers circled with just the right amount of pressure, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of her thrusts.

The combined sensations had you gasping for air, your fingers clutching at her shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you. The words fell from your lips in a desperate, broken stream—pleas for more, cries of her name, and incoherent whispers of need.

“That’s it,” she growled, her lips brushing against your ear. “Let me hear you. Don’t hold back.”

You obeyed instinctively, your moans spilling freely, every sound she pulled from you only spurring her on. Her control was intoxicating, the way she commanded every inch of you, every breath and shuddering gasp. Her fingers pressed harder, circling faster, and the coil in your core tightened impossibly.

“Emily,” you cried out, your voice trembling as your body arched into her. “Please—I’m so close.”

Her smirk was audible in her next words, low and dangerous. “You’ll come when I say you can. Not a moment before.”

Her pace quickened, her fingers working you with maddening precision as her thrusts deepened, leaving you writhing beneath her. Every movement was calculated, every sound you made rewarded with a dark hum of approval. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “You’re mine,” she growled, her tone commanding and firm. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, the words tumbling out without hesitation. “Emily, I’m yours.”

“Good girl,” she murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Her fingers pressed harder, the rhythm perfect, as she drove you closer and closer to the edge. Your body tensed beneath her, the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“Come for me,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Your back arched off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, your release ripping through you with a force that left you trembling. Emily didn’t stop, her movements slow and steady as she helped you ride out the high, her hand still stroking over your thigh.

As the last waves of pleasure subsided, you lay there panting, your body spent and trembling. Emily leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back slightly. Her gaze met yours, and for a moment, there was a softness in her expression—a flicker of something unguarded that made your chest tighten.

“You did so well,” she murmured, her hand brushing over your hair. “So beautiful.”

Her words sent a warmth through you, and you couldn’t help but smile, though your body still felt like it was buzzing. Emily climbed off the bed, carefully unfastening the harness and setting it aside before climbing back onto bed. Her eyes glinted with mischief as she hovered over you, her fingertips tracing lazy patterns along your skin. “The night’s still young,” she murmured, her voice low and inviting.

Before you could respond, her lips found yours in a kiss that sent a fresh wave of heat through you, reigniting the spark in your veins. Her smile against your mouth was wicked.

“We’re not done yet.”

A few hours later, both of you lay tangled under the sheets, spent and breathing heavily. The room was silent except for the soft rustle of the sheets and the rhythmic sound of your heartbeats slowly returning to normal.

The weight of the silence between you was heavy, and you could feel the thoughts swirling in your head, as they always did.

You were trying to push those thoughts away, but it was impossible to stop them.

Emily seemed to sense it, her fingers trailing idly along your arm as she shifted slightly, pulling you closer. Her lips brushed against your ear, her voice low and steady. “Stop overthinking.”

You blinked up at her, suddenly self-conscious, but she already knew what you were thinking. She always did.

“I’m not…” you started, but her voice cut through, smooth and knowing.

“I can hear your thoughts from here, Y/N,” she said, her tone teasing but with a hint of amusement. “I know what you're thinking. The age gap, the power dynamics, the… complications.” She paused, meeting your eyes with that all-knowing intensity. “It’s just sex. Nothing more. So, stop overthinking it.”

You nodded slowly, but her words still felt too simple, too final. There was something in her voice, in the way she said it, that made it sound almost too good to be true. You couldn’t help but feel the conflict building within you. The part of you that craved this—her control, her dominance—and the part of you that couldn’t shake the unease about it all.

“Right,” you said quietly, trying to mask the uncertainty in your voice. “Just sex. Nothing else.”

Emily’s lips quirked up into a small smile, but there was no humor in it. She leaned in, kissing you softly, lingering for just a moment before pulling back. “That’s right,” she said, her voice low, but there was an edge to it now. “Because anything else…” She paused, her gaze intense as she let the words hang in the air. “Anything else would be a mistake.”

The weight of her words settled over you, and for a moment, everything felt so simple, so clear. But deep down, you both knew that the simplicity was an illusion. The truth was, neither of you could ignore the undercurrent between you, the way her touch lingered too long, the way your heart beat faster every time she looked at you.

You lay there for a while in silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts, unsure of where to go from here. But one thing was clear: for now, it was just sex. No feelings. No complications. Or so you told yourselves.

You had no idea how much time passed, but when you finally drifted into a peaceful sleep, your body resting against hers, Emily stayed awake for a while. She held you close, watching the rise and fall of your chest as you slept, her fingers gently stroking through your hair.

For a few moments, she let the silence stretch, her gaze softening as she looked down at you. Your face was peaceful, unaware of the storm of emotions swirling within her. She could feel her heart tightening, the pull she had tried to ignore throughout the night.

It felt right. Too right. And in that moment, as her fingers traced over your skin, the reality of it all hit her—she was already too far gone.

...

You can read part 2 here