#bc I would have gotten wine as well

[liebelesbe]

Worst part about being involved in Ehrenamt / etc (anything that you might get an Ehrung for), is that you'll always always always get wine. Maybe flowers as well (if you're not a man), but the first thing you get is wine.

[inkskinned]

as we enter the start of a semester and the dreaded Hour of Making Friends us upon us... if ur ever at a loss for what to say in one of those weird social situations where you only vaguely-know people, one of my favorite questions to ask is "what is your favorite food crime." a food crime is like the food combination that you love that other people find revolting. press them to take it further than pineapple on pizza, that's rote. food crimes is a good topic that has many benefits as it turns out all people are degenerates and also it will give you some cool ideas to try out later in the privacy of your own degenerate kitchen

the other good thing to ask is "okay but has anyone here ever been someplace haunted" bc it turns out if you ask most people directly they don't believe in ghosts, but many people are like "oh yeah i lived in a haunted house. ghosts aren't real tho"

[chlmtsdoll]

hear me out….artashi x reader based on any song from short n sweet 🤭

YESSS OMG I was already planning a fic on this 🤭 you get it !

HOLD ME AND EXPLORE ME

18 + | smut ! threesome, p in v (unprotected sex), age gap sugar!baby reader, older Art & Tashi, petite!reader (sorry tall ppl, what did you expect?) kinda kinky (praise, bondage-ish) inspo from Juno bc yes ! I am short n sweet and yes ! I am so fucking horny 🩵

With the loads of studying and catching up on your sleep you had on your schedule being at the forefront of your week — you really should have been back home tucked away in your apartment, trying not to lose yourself to the anxiety of internships you had lined up by the clock.

No hanging out with friends, parties, or boys wasting your sweet time was enough to throw you of your high achieving attitude. With your kind nature and smaller figure, you were always shoved off as an easy pass kind of girl. But that couldn’t of been farther from the truth — you just had high standards for yourself. With a devotion to your status and a deep love for your own life and future, not one of your girlfriends would of believed that instead of disregarding another study session or wine meet up, you’d been on a plane heading across the country to visit Art and Tashi.

The only ones that could put a dent in your structured little bubble. The only two who could make a girl like you go crawling on her knees at the sound of a text sent.

The wealthy couple had you wrapped around their finger at the word and it had been the one guilty pleasure you weren’t afraid to admit — you got shit done. No matter what. So when it had been the husband and wife paying for your tuition and for you to look impeccable on any resume, meeting or simply just walking into a store to buy a new dress — of course you’d been there whenever they needed.

They’d dropped however much in an instant to have you flying out to see them right then, and you couldn’t say you weren’t deserving of a little fun after you wiped the floor with every girl in your fashion marketing courses.

You had curlers in the night before just to have your locks all full and bouncy for the couple when your arrival came. Well rested and ready for the little spark of enjoyment you had paused your lifestyle back at home for, just anything for the man and woman who treated you like their own always. You really did miss the smell of Tashi’s butter like skin, and the sight of Arts sculptured body on you like paradise. You were pushing your thighs together just at the mere thought of it in your seat — not even giving way to the public around you as your eyes were closed in bliss and you hummed to the music streaming throughout your ears.

Can’t help myself, hormones are high, give me more than just some butterflies

You were landing in New Rochelle when you could finally get a signal for your cell at last, and when the ding of your phone went off you nearly knocked all of your essentials from your lap to pick up your phone in a scurry to which you were revealed a message from Tashi.

Tashi

Hey baby, you should be landing soon.

Sending Art to pick you up from the airport.

Your little rose tinted cheeks we’re heating up just at the sight of the text as you bit your finger like a love-sick school girl and you replied to Tashi with a single ‘💗’. It was then that you were first to be off the flight after gathering your things — headphones still in tacked in your ears. It was funny to see college girls your age running to grab their luggage to haul a taxi when you knew you could take your sweet time embarking the baggage claim since you knew Art would have just gotten vip parking to come meet you with your bags. When you reached the lane you’d been given, you were waiting for your suit case to show when there was no way it could of gone unnoticed. Ever. You could of bet money that you’d been the only person there with shimmery pink luggage that had your name scribbled in sweet cursive letters on the name tag and a couple pearl key chains with your initials big enough for the whole airport to be unintentionally introduced.

When your bags did finally show up, you were reaching to grab hold of them before a pair of strong, yet pretty hands came clutching them for you instead..

“You aren’t a little afraid someone will try and mug you with those in?” Art chuckled as he peered at you with his expression prettier than ever before setting down your bags with a grin on his face, just showing his gorgeous teeth a tad and you had pulled out your ear bud as your face immediately lit up — with a small squeal you stood to your toes to wrap your arms around the tall man’s neck and he hugged you with a full laughter as your legs semi-danged from the ground. And although most of the crowd of people walking around the airport could of mistaken the two of you for being the ‘dad picks his daughter up from college’ kind of meeting, you had learned things like that wouldn’t get to your head since this was something you choose anyways.

“You found me so quick!” Your excitement bubbled from within as the blonde wrap himself into you and he pulled away, eager to look into your eyes that were astonishingly out of this world to him — he just wanted to see you. Take you in, all with a tenderness to his touch as he held your face in his hands along with a simper.

“Yeah. Wasn’t too bad though I’ll admit.. it isn’t very hard to miss you, baby girl.” Arts eyes flicked over to your luggage that was just shimmering and screamed over the top but sweet twenty something year old girl.

You giggled , “I like to travel in style.” Art took your hand up to his lips as he kissed the palm of it in adoration of your bubbly attitude and helped you walk your bags to the Mercedes parked outside just nearby. You immediately attached yourself to Arts arm and your wide eyes started up at him with complete butterflies to the feeling of him finally being right beside you again — and Art has to keep his composure not to blush to hard at the sight of your pretty face and adorable figure fawning at him right then.

♡

When you eventually made it to the Donaldson estate, you briefly freshened up in the guest bathroom, the air of the space filled up with your cinnamon and sweet sugary scents and you’d been sure you were as smooth as a baby from head to toe by the time the steam lifted from the mirror.

Not too long after your shower, there was a soft knock on the door before it opened gently with the single sight of Tashi in all her grace as she entered the room with a small cheeky smile complimenting her instinctively glowing face when she saw you. Turning from the mirror to face her, your teeth sunk into your teeth almost immediately as she hadn’t just brought herself, but attire in her hands as well.

“Sweet girl, I want you to try this on for us… it’s new. Got it just for you.” The woman came up to you and pecked your cheek before propping what turned out to be lingerie in your hands. The baby blue hue was rich, and the softest cotton like taken straight from a cloud. Ruffles edging the hem of the bra part of it and around the panties. Your lips parted as you let out a small “oh..” and your face had become warm with a kind of lust for your own fit in the piece. Tashi watched you, her honey like eyes examined the way you examined it and the corners of her mouth were partially upturned in a fine smirk before she left you to it.

And when the soft garter belt had been what you slipped up your thigh lastly before you were fit in the bits that made you feel not only sexy, but feverishly sweet as well.

You’d exited from the room to find Art and Tashi waiting in the bedroom — eyes had been automatically fixed on your perfect shape in the periwinkle shade. Their dry mouths couldn’t had caught the words quick enough before you were shyly shifting your weight on your feet, you showcased yourself for the couple with a cloying little smile on your lips just by their reactions.

“So ? What do we think ?” Your hands placed gently on your hips only moved so you could turn for the two and Tashi’s eyes ran up and down your body in a buttery sense as she chuckled to herself in profile, she adjusted how she’d been sitting on the bed so she was now on her knees - of course - not wanting to give away her obvious simmering ache for you too quickly.

Art was another story. With the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips tenderly, he couldn’t take his soft blues off of you “fuck, baby,” the blonde muttered out and you only grinned wider as you inches closer to where the man sat on the bed.

Legs being spread just enough for you to take a nice little place between them. Only five foot, you stood gracefully ahead of the man with a soft giggle leaving your lips. He followed your face even as your hands rose to brace his shoulders and his eyes locked up on you — like he’d been ready to get the perfect little lace set off of you with his teeth.

“That certainly means you like it.” You spoke like the most harmonious honey. And Arts hands had already been gliding up your flush thighs to place his groping hands on your hips. “You wanna touch me, huh ?” You knew you were playing with fire. Making your push to Art with Tashi right there and not even on to to what was going to happen next just yet. But you just couldn’t help yourself — you’d been so titillated to feel them on you. And by the looks of it, to get Arts pants off as fast as possible now. And just when he had been looking at you like this. The blonde pressed his lips to the middle of your abdomen and you sunk your teeth into your lip in giddiness already as you smiled.

“Everything about you is godlike- - mmm, we missed you so much baby.” Art’s voice had been muffled into your skin. He kissed you up and his fingers dug into the plush of your ass. Your fingertips grazed over his broad arms that were rough at the first touch but got softer as you trailed farther down.

“Not so fast..” Tashi’s voice was silken as she placed her own hand on your hip from your side. Her lean, tall body hovering over you swiftly and she held up another gesture. This time, handcuffs.

Pink and traced with fur. Your eyes go wide for a moment as they stare back at you practically — and then your eyes are on the woman again with risqué written across her face liked she’d been waiting for the right moment to spring in on you so smoothly. She pulled you off of Art with a grin. When she walked you to the side of the bed, “Ooh!” You exclaimed as you fell chest first to the mattress and Tashi was pulling your gentle writs behind your back. The naughtiest smile on your face immediately as she toyed with you, unable to remove your curls falling into your face now.

“God, she looks so pretty like that” Art groaned as he faced the scene of you and Tashi.

“Were gonna take care of her sweet cunt, isn’t that right?” the woman narrowed at her husband with airiness to her words as she flipped you on your back. And just at those words you had already felt yourself soaking your panties — and with the light blue color — it was noticeable to the eyes almost instantly, Tashi let out a chuckle. “Princess we haven’t even touched you yet.. you just want it so bad, hm? Little minx.”

Art got closer to the two of you, and his presence only made you more worked up with the way Tashi took your ankles by force, apart as your legs were on display for her view. Your already soft whines echoed throughout the room just to be touched. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“She’s been workin’ so hard back at home, little thing is touch starved, Tashi.”

“I’m just giving you a little show.” You batted your lashes innocently at the blonde and he could feel his cock grow hard right then. You were pleased by the way just your voice alone could get him yearning to fuck your brains out so quickly. It was just easy to get Art between your legs — with how painfully cute you had been to him, and Tashi’s word it was like child’s play.

“Your both gonna be me a little show.” Tashi commanded after your remark towards Art, and she took her place on the bed like it was nothing — in her satin slip with a sly smile on her face, she ran her fingertips over your dainty bottoms as she coo’d to the way you squirmed at your touch. “Art’s gonna eat this pretty pussy, he’ll surely make the ache go away.” Tashi shook out her tossed curls and caressed your face calmly as Art had already lowered himself to your hips and you whimpered softly with want at the way the blonde maneuvered your legs so they’d been over his shoulder. Your dear pink polished toes hanging off his back with ease, you watched his eyes pierce your own. He graced his lips over your soaked clothed cunt. Taking in your sent just before even removing the piece of clothing to devour you.

“Fuck, fuck, please..” You whine out, he looked too gorgeous between your legs. Perfect nose brushing over your clit briefly before he hooked a finger over your panties, pulling them to the side and when his tongue came to contact with your folds — you trembled with it.

Moans escaped your lips and your restrained hands had become an enemy as you couldn’t even touch the man below you. He licked and fucked into your core with quick but careful movements, making paintings with his tongue as you writhed on your back and his own groans vibrated throughout your body. Art squeezed from your ass up to your thighs, soft as vanilla frosting, to keep you still.

Tashi had been elegantly laid back against the pillows. She observed, her own hand trailing to meet her own cunt just at the way your angelic moans and whimpers made her feel. Like she was giving her husband the truest and sweetest treat right then. Nothing could touch the feeling of watching his jaw, sharp and pretty as a knife, dive right into your tight little hole. Dragging his mouth up and down as she ate you with hunger and your screams were like a melody.

“I wanna cum!” You squealed as your toes curled and Art watched you, deeply feeding off of the way your reactions lead the flicker of his tongue to your sweet folds.

“Be good and hold it, and you’ll get fucked in whatever position you want..” Tashi echoed back to you as she watched you fight off your orgasm. Art let his fingers trail your pulsing pussy for a moment. Like straight candy to him, he licked his slick covered lips.

“You’re always good, baby doll, aren’t you? You sure taste like it.” Art chuckled lowly as he caressed your shaking figure and leaned up from his knees, eyes not missing you for a second, even as he undid his belt buckle right there in front of you. It made butterflies spread throughout your body with his careful fawning eyes taking you up in all the ways he could have you. “I wanna feel you around me, like Tashi said… your pick.”

You would of reached out and grabbed him by the hips then, watching him remove his boxers painfully slow and the way his cock sprang out was painful as you just wanted dick in you so bad. It just has been too long.

Whining at the handcuffs keeping you from him, you turn your head to glance at his wife who’s been all too amused by your writhing. “I wanna touch him, please.”

The woman crawled over to your small figure and inclined so she was face to face with you, leaving a savory kiss on your lips, you moaned into it. And before you knew it your wrists had been free from the restraints. A smile spread across your mouth as you reached up brace her incandescent seem, deepening the kiss you both sat up as saliva has been shared between you, Tashi pulled away unannounced and eyed her husband with a grin.

“He’s all yours.”

You giggled openly before you took it upon yourself, to lay on to your side with your now free restraint — eyes meeting the other tennis player as his glorious chest had been exposed and smirk came back playfully as he climbed in bed next to you. Art’s hands go straight to your sides, he not only held you close, but explored every part of your skin with some close kisses to your neck and you breathed out in a soft moan. That made your hands reach straight for his short locks, you closed you eyes in pleasure just before whispering, “Take me just like this. I need you, Art..” your long sigh that turned into moans afterwards was all he needed before his hips were aligning with your ass as he kept your back flush to his chest, lips directly embarked your shoulder to pepper his kisses of adoration.

Arts hand went to lift up your thigh, and you sucked in your breath as you felt the tip of his cock rub against your slippery entrance. “You’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard, pretty girl. I know it.” Art huffed out as a murmur into your skin and it made you titter gently at the tickle of his face that had now grown a stubble just in his short off season. And as he took his time to feel the out the luxury of your cunt already drooling over his pre-gushing slit, Tashi crawled to be aside where you both lay, propping herself up on her palm to watch your eyebrows knit and lips go curved with how her husband teased you needy little body.

“Be gracious baby, Art missed his little play thing so much while you were away. Take all of him, okay?” Her voice was laced with sex as she caressed your cheek and observed her husband stretching your cunt wide with the push of his dick into you slow but effectively making your jaw fall agape and you let out a crisps cry-like moan as Art held your hips in place.

��Ooh- - fuck.. yeah,” you cursed as you reached to grip the pillows surrounding you quick. Art watched the way you slid right down his member and thrusting up into you from the side was so easy at this angel, he groaned with the way your pussy clenched him and his nails dig into the skin of your curves. You’d been a stuttering and moaning mess as he started to fuck into you at a faster pace. So soft from the inside, not only was he going dizzy by the way you looked —pure in the ruffle of your lingerie all while whimpering on his dick for more.

“Fuck, you let us do the dirtiest things to you, princess. So much of a naughty, dirty girl- - you can’t help wanting to act like a little whore. Shit.” the blonde grunted as he rutted into you. Surely your ass would be red by the time he was done with you — and by the noises coming between the two of you vile and pornographic, Tashi reached to stroke and fondle with your breast in contrast, as she got off just on watching you get fucked like a pathetic slut by her husband. Taking it so saccharine like she asked.

You feel your cunt throbbing the more Art pounded into you. Your mouth was unable to stay shut to keep in your loud moans, you reached for the blonde as your nails ran down the skin of his shoulder blade and you locked eyes with the beautiful man who even was towering your petite figure from this angle, “yes- - yes, mmh ! Fucking cum inside me. Give it to me, baby…” your voice breathy and high pitched. It made the man absolutely loose it.

You felt his dick twitch inside your cunt as he held your ribcage to fuck up into you before coating your walls at once. He pumped his load into your pussy. Marking his territory inside you with a deep groan, you released your head into him as you cried out till ropes of his cum filled you to the brim. “Good girl, baby.” Tashi ran a hand down your puffy hole as she rubbed at your clit before Art could even pull out of you. Fast and without mercy she worked on you straight into cumming on her husbands cock with a long whimper as you shook uncontrollably.

“Mmm, fuck !” You screamed out as fireworks escalated throughout. Your heat along with the rest of your body an absolute mess — and your dainty lingerie had been covered in the little masterpiece you and Art made. When Tashi pulled him out of you — the two of you moan in unison as more cum just gushed from your entrance.

“Fuck, I’m falling in love with your tight little body. You’re just perfect, angel.” Art panted out as she kissed you all over again and once you finally caught your breath a little bit of tender laughter was released from you. And Tashi as rare as it was, couldn’t help but smile at the way you brought her husband and her own frolicsomeness to light with how much they missed and needed your youthfulness. Not only your touch, they could have it forever. You for life even. “We fucking adore you.”

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Choose Your Next Words Carefully

aemond x sister!reader

Summary: You’ve waited for weeks now for everyone to return to court and provide you some much needed entertainment. Aemond is on edge and you push him until you get exactly what you want. 

Warnings: 18+ established relationship, swearing, wine, death(vaemond court), show aemond 🧎🏼‍♀️, after court gossip session, oral(f+m), p in v, slight choking, spanking 

Authors Note: nice little s1e8 insert bc i stayed there after all these years fr 🧎🏼‍♀️i went back and forth on whether to ‍have daemon join them or not 

Word Count: 3.7k

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

I’ve been waiting a moon for this day to come. I normally despise being dragged to court but there’s such an enticing amount of tension in the air that I’ve become excited. Gods, this ‘succession’ matter being played out by my mother and grandfather is petty, but I’m eager for the entertainment. 

My brothers have been on edge leading up to today. Aegon hasn’t set his cups down, which isn’t new but it’s gotten more excessive. Aemond is quick to pull a dagger and toss threats at anyone who slightly upsets him and it has the whole Keep walking down different halls to avoid him. I’m just excited to watch how everything unfolds. It’s been years since Rhaenyra and Daemon fled to Dragonstone and with those years came more disdain from each side. 

I wait in my chambers for my mothers arrival with a smile on my face and a glass of wine in my hand. There’s one sharp knock and my doors are opening and closing quickly beholding Aemond. I sigh looking at him as he stalks over to me. He grabs the glass from my hand and places it on the table and my smile turns into a frown. 

“Is it your goal to be as drunk and bumbling as Aegon?” he tilts my chin up. 

“Aemond, enough,” I bat his hand away. “Some wine could do you good. You’re so pent up and angry.” I glare at him as he towers above me. 

“Do you think I would rejoice that they’ve come to court?” he scowls at me. 

“No but you needn’t bark at me about it.” I rise from my couch and push past him. His hand wraps around my arm and pulls me back to him. “Go down to the training yard.” I nod my head toward the door. 

“You dare to order me around?” his eye narrows. 

“It’s clear you’re wanting a fight and I’m no good with a blade. Even if I was, I could never be better than you.” I hope my subtle praise will soothe his temper for the moment.

“I know what you’re doing.” his nostrils flare. 

“I’m not doing anything, brother.” I bat my eyelashes at him. “Everyone knows you’re our best sword. So fearsome and brutal.” his eye bores into mine and I continue on. “Rider of the largest dragon, commanding the skies with the mighty Vhagar.” I search his face for any softening features and see none. 

I look up at him and take on the full force of his unyielding stare. I wait for him to do anything and I see the side of his mouth slowly start to turn up. He steps closer and I tilt my head a little further to keep our eye contact. A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest as he takes another step and we’re inches apart. I’m over his taunting and decide to break our silence. 

“Not even a thank you?” I hum expectantly. 

“For stating facts?” he tilts his head and I roll my eyes. 

“Go train, Aemond.” I push his chest back. “You’re our best sword, yet a better one is on his way to court, if not already within these walls.” I purse my lips and yanks me over to him. 

“Choose your next words carefully.” he looks down at me with a dark eye as his fingers dig into my arm. 

“It’s always been your goal to best Daemon, no?” a small smile forms on my lips. “I think I shall bed him and see if he’s better than you in that regard as well.” I hum titling my chin up with contempt and his fingers are quick to latch on tightly and tilt my head further up. 

“If you-“ my chamber doors groan open.

“Aemond,” our mother hisses, slamming my chamber doors shut. 

“I’m going to train.” he clicks his tongue and sweeps out of the room. My mother watches as the doors shut and looks at me with annoyance before calling my handmaidens in and having them ready me for court. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

I’m standing next to a rigid Aemond and a swaying Aegon as Vaemonds voice raises as he yells at Rhaenyra and her children. I watch on with quiet amusement and my eyes catch Daemon on the move. I watch him curiously and I look at him with wide eyes thinking there’s no possible way he’s going to- Vaemonds head hits the floor and I gasp. I step forward watching him casually clean his blade with a soft smile. 

Aemonds hands hold onto my arms and start to pull me out of the throne room and I keep turning my head back and looking at the scene. Guards rush past and my heart beats faster as my shock turns into adrenaline. I look up at Aemond as he starts to usher me up the stairs to his chambers. He seals the doors shut and I pour us each a glass of wine. He grabs the glass and takes a generous sip and I raise my brows, nodding at him as I sip mine. 

“He’s fucking mad.” Aemond looks at me almost in disbelief. “He’ll get away with that, no question.” he claims a chair. 

“Of course he will.” I sit opposite him. “He was defending Rhaenyra, fathers only child.” I roll my eyes. 

“Gods, seeing our corpse of a father walking in was an unwelcome sight.” I chuckle at his words. 

“I think I could smell the decay as he passed.” I smile and see one start to crack across his face. These rare moments are my favorite, when we are able to actually talk without any filter. 

“I could see you drooling over Daemon like a dog.” I scoff at him. 

“I was not.” I bring the wine to my lips again. “He just made court entertaining. I should thank him.” I hum with a smile. 

“You are insufferable today.” he glares at me over his glass while he sips his wine. 

“You’re so angry today.” he sighs loudly. 

“That bastard boy deserves nothing. He looks so smug and what? I’m to pretend I’m fine? I’m whole? No,” he shakes his head. “He owes me a debt. I am angry.” he looks at me with a hard face. 

“I thought we’ve moved past this?” I ask softly, searching over his face.

“Would you ever? Truly?” he searches my eyes. “Tell me, could you move past being permanently maimed?” he waits for my answer. 

“I couldn’t.” I shake my head. That night will haunt me forever. My mother and I being the only two at his side. 

“That is why I am so angry. All of the time. Father didn’t care about me.” his laugh is bitter. “He doesn’t still.” he shrugs. “He tells the Stranger to wait so he can lift Rhaenyra and her children up again and again. Mother and grandfather just embarrass themselves and us in the process.” his words hold so much emotion and so much truth. 

“It looks as if the Stranger is out of patience. I think he’s going to die soon.” I look up at him and know the relief and hope that resides in his eye is mirrored in mine. Our mother bursts into his chambers and looks at both of us relieved. 

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you both.” she looks us over and begins talking about everything that’s happening going forward and tells us to prepare for supper. She’s out of the chambers as swiftly as she entered and Aemond and I stare at each other. 

“How mad do you think mother would be if we missed supper?” he smiles down at me. 

“I’ll be mad.” I pout up at him. “This is bound to be as entertaining as court. Possibly even more so.” I nibble my lip smiling. 

“Mm, you just want to see Daemon.” he purses his lips. 

“Please,” I push my bottom lip out. “We can laugh about how pathetic everyone is after.” his face lights with amusement. 

“That’s very enticing.” he hums. 

“Then accept the offer.” I nod my head with a smile. 

“You’ll sit next to me?” I can tell he wants it to be a command but his voice wavers. 

“Of course.” he nods his head. 

“Then I guess I’ll take you to your chambers so you can ready for supper.” he sighs standing up and offering me his hand. 

“A gentleman, Aemond.” I coo as I accept his hand and rise. “Thank you.” I reach up and press my lips to his cheek. I take his arm and he walks me down the hall to my chambers. He presses his lips to my forehead before he shuts my doors once I'm inside them. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Aemond comes to escort me to supper and I take his arm. I look up at him and take in his set jaw and scrunched brows. He looks so exquisitely angry and I know there’s no consoling him before we enter the dining hall. Upon entering Aegon is approaching and shoving a cup of wine into Aemonds free hand. 

“Have you drank at all today? You look uptight.” Aegon smirks and Aemond frown deepens. 

“Let’s take our seats.” I hum, noting Aemonds white knuckles as he grips the cup. As we walk to the table our father is carried in and we stiffen as the room rises. He’s placed at the table and we all take our seats. 

The table is tense and silent and everyone seems to be holding their breath. Our father groans and stands dramatically, leaning against the table. He spouts on and shows his rotting face and I try to hold back my wince. After his speech everyone seems to feel more relaxed as if only for this moment, all somehow feeling as if it’ll be the last. 

I look at Aemond and smile and see him still tense. I offer him my hand under the table and he looks at it and looks at me. I stretch my hand closer to him and he exhales linking his pinky with mine and I glare up at him at his dramatics. He purses his lips and looks across the table and I shake my head reaching for my wine with my free hand. 

I relish in the sweetness of the wine and lean back in my chair. My mother looks at me and looks at the wine and shakes her head. I roll my eyes and set my cup down. I turn and see Aegon filling his cup again and shake my head because of course he wouldn’t be scolded. I turn back to Aemond and then I hear a chair scrape against the stone. 

My head snaps and I see Jace standing and glaring at Aegon who looks surprised. Aemond pulls his hand away from mine and stands. I look up at him with a scrunched brow and I hear Aegon sit and let out a soft chuckle. Jace feigns a toast in Aegon and Aemond’s honor. Jace sits and I stare up at Aemond with pleading eyes. When Aemond finally sits he slowly slides his eye to me. The anger is pouring off of him and I’m starting to wish we didn’t show up. 

The music begins to play and things begin to settle once more. Our father is carried out seeming only having seconds left to live at this point and I look to Aemond knowing we’ll discuss that later. The food gets brought in and I’m thankful for the promise that this meal is almost over until there’s a pig and chuckle sounded from across the table. In seconds the atmosphere of calm is gone and Aemond’s fist is on the table and his wine glass in the air. I suck in a breath and await his words. 

“Final tribute.” he hums to Jace and Luke. The words flow out of him effortlessly with subtle insincerity. I stare up at him thinking that this isn’t so bad until he called them Strong. I give him a warning glare and he raises his glass higher repeating the word. Jace stands from his chair and Aemond with a smirk says it’s a third time. In a breath Jace's fist is on Aemond’s face and Aemond has him on the stone with a push. Then everyone is up trying to deescalate the situation and I’m grabbing Aemonds arm as Daemon looks at him with a raised brow. They look at each other and Aemond’s hand grabs mine and pulls us out of the dining hall. 

He’s quickly taking us through the halls and bounding us up the stairs. He pushes open the doors to his chambers with a thud and tugs me inside. He slams the doors shut behind us and I turn to him. He stalks over to me and clenches his jaw. “Was that as entertaining as you hoped?” he waits for my answer.

“None of that was my desire.” I look up at him with a frown. 

“I asked not to go.” his words clipped. “But you just had to see Daemon. Had to see what he would do.” I see his hands clenched as he tries and fails to rein in his anger.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “Do you want to talk about how father showed us how he's half dead?” I offer a soft smile trying to lighten the mood. “Talk about how pathetic everyone was?” I tilt my head. 

“Not at this moment.” he shakes his head once. 

“What would you like to do?” I step closer to him. His lips press to mine brusingly and he holds me against him with a tight grip. We make our way to the bed and he pushes me back onto it and I smile up at him. 

“I’ve been so mad at you all day.” he looks down at me with a dark eye. “Daemon this and Daemon that.” he flips me over and lifts my hips, resting me on my knees. “Nothing to say about Daemon at dinner?” he lifts my skirts and pushes them up my back. “The main reason you wanted to go?” his voice low as he pulls my small clothes down my thighs. 

“I didn’t look at Daemon at dinner.” he chuckles at my breathless words. “I looked at you.” I gasp as he spreads my legs wider.

“Did you like my toast?” his fingers trail down my slit. 

“Yes,” I whine, digging into the blankets. 

“I’m glad it was to your liking.” he says through his teeth before landing a hand onto my cheek then squeezing the tender flesh. His fingers graze my slit once more before landing on my other cheek and I dig into the sheets. His palm lands against my ass a couple more times before he shoves two fingers into me. 

“Aemond,” I whine. His fingers pump into me quickly and I feel the bed shift and suddenly his tongue is on my bud. I arch my back and moan loudly. “Yes, Aemond,” I roll my hips against his face. His tongue flicks against me faster and small pleas fall from my lips. “Please, Aem- I’m,” I cry out and pulse around his fingers and he continues to lap at me. He pulls his fingers out and sits back. 

“Look at you trembling from just that.” I whine at his tone. “Shall I call Daemon in here and have him lick your dripping cunny? Since you think he’s so much better than me.” his voice low. I jolt forward as his hands begin to land on my cheeks again. 

“You’re the one who keeps bringing him up. Sounds like you want Daemon all to yourself.” I look back at him and his palm lands with a loud smack on my ass.

“Be quiet.” his hand lands on my other cheek pulling a whimper from me. “You infuriate me when you speak. Just be fucking quiet.” I pull a pillow to me and bury my head in it. 

Gods he’s in such a mood and it’s exciting me to no end. His grip is bruising as he holds my hip and slams his fingers into me again. All I hear is my pleasure coating his long fingers and his heavy breathing. He lands two quick slaps to my cheeks and I press back into his fingers. He lets out a low chuckle as I moan loudly into the pillow. I turn my head from the pillow having an idea knowing it’ll make him even angrier. 

“Daemon,” I moan loudly as I clench around his fingers and I hear him growl before pulling his fingers out. He flips me over and wraps his fingers around the column of my throat. He looks down at me with a dark eye and I hold on to his arm. 

“Do not,” his fingers tighten. “Speak his name again.” his words final. “Do you understand?” my pleasure pools as I look up at him. 

“Yes.” the word falls from my mouth. His lips slam onto mine leaving me even more breathless. His hand on my neck slides up to bury into my hair. He pulls back and I look up to him with a heaving chest. He yanks me up from the bed and begins to unlace my dress. He shoves it down my body and pulls my slip off, baring me to him. 

“On your knees.” his voice void of all emotion. I let out a soft whine as I start to sink to the floor. “Move your dress.” the cold stone presses into my knees as I settle on the ground in front of him. His fingers trace my jaw before tilting my head up. “I like you like this.” he hums, brushing his thumb against my lower lip. 

“Li-“ he pushes his thumb into my mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” he shakes his head and I roll my tongue around his thumb. “Unlace my trousers.” a simple command yet it leaves my fingers softly trembling. I pull on them and the leather loosens and I look up to him as I start to pull his trousers down. His hardened length springs free and I go to reach for it and he clicks his tongue and wraps his fringes around himself. 

“Open your mouth.” he pumps himself above me and I squeeze my thighs at the sight. I open my mouth and he pushes his length in. I wrap my lips around him as my tongue brushes against him. His fingers tangle in my hair as he starts to bob my head. I hum around him letting him control my movements. He sets a quick pace that has spit spilling out the sides of my mouth as I look up at him.

Gods the sight of him like this is enough to have me clenching around nothing. His hips snap into me and I choke around him hearing him chuckle above me. His fingers tighten in my hair as he continues his harsh pace causing my knees to dig into the stone. He pulls me off of him leaving a string of spit and I look up at him as we both pant. 

“Stand up.” his fingers stay tangled in my hair as I rise on shaky knees. He pulls my face to his in a rough kiss. “Go to the bed.” a small whimper comes from my lips at his words and he flares his nostrils. I turn and walk to the bed and wait for him as he undresses. His hands trail up my sides before he bends me over the edge pushing my head into the blankets. He lifts my hips until my knees are on the bed. 

“A quiet hole for me to fill.” he hums, digging his fingers into my hips as he swirls his tip around my core. I bite my lip as he starts to push into me. A strained whine slips past my lips as he grinds against me. I moan into the bed as he starts pounding into me. “Stay quiet.” he grunts as he tangles his fingers in my hair and pulls me up against him. 

I bite onto my lip so harshly I taste metal. He grabs one of my breasts and pinches my nipple as he continues to hammer up into me. I let out a small gasp and he shushes me. He releases my nipple and I press back into him when his fingers circle against my bud. “Aemond,” his name tears from my mouth as I fall apart. 

He pushes me down onto the bed again and leans over me pressing my body deeper into the mattress while he continues with his relentless pace. I can’t stop the moans pouring from my mouth as my pleasure feels never ending. “Gods,” he groans, pulling out of me. He stands and flips me over. He smiles as I wrap my legs around his waist and he presses himself back into me. He watches me as he slowly starts to rock into me again. 

“Please,” I arch up into him, holding onto his shoulders. 

“You were doing so good for me.” he tsks shaking his head. I look up at him with pleasure filled eyes as he presses a hand over my mouth and starts to slam into me. His hair curtains around us as he watches my eyes roll back. His strokes are hard and have me whimpering into his hand. His hand moves as he fills me and I let out small gasps while he slowly rocks into me. 

“I’d like for you to act like this tomorrow. Docile and sweet. Silent.” he presses his lips to my forehead, slowly pulling out. His lips press against mine and I hold him closer. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

bruises from him would be my fav accessory 🎀

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004 @ninihrtss

[esouliie]

DECEMBER MIRACLE

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

summary | wanda buys you a puppy for christmas

tags | a short christmas drabble yay, fluff and cutesy things bc we deserve more of this, lowkey inspired by lady and the tramp!

notes | i’ve always wanted a puppy for christmas and i can 100% confirm wanda is the type of wife to convince you to not get one bc she wants to surprise you! #lovemyevilwife :3

The air is crisp with the scent of pine needles and cinnamon, the fireplace crackling softly in the corner of your cozy new living room. It’s your first Christmas as a married couple, as the Maximoffs, and the house you moved into over the summer is finally starting to feel like home. The walls are adorned with twinkling lights, the first presents stacked gracefully along the fireplace, and the tree glows warmly in the corner, bedecked with ornaments you’ve both collected over the years.

Wanda has been running around all morning, fussing over every little detail for the holiday party. She’s been uncharacteristically anxious about hosting, insisting that everything must be perfect for your first big event as a married couple. You didn’t understand considering you guys had been hosting Christmas in your shared apartment in the Tower for years now without a fuss. But despite her nerves, you can see the joy in her movements. She hums softly to herself as she adjusts the table settings, her cheeks rosy from the cold weather and holiday cheer.

Nobody loved Christmas more than Wanda.

For weeks, you’ve been teasing her about what she might have gotten you for the holiday. Wanda is notoriously — and frustratingly — good at keeping secrets, which only makes your curiosity worse. She’s batted away your questions with a smirk every time, reminding you to "wait and see." But there’s something else you’ve been pestering her about for months now—a dog. Not just any dog, but a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, just like the one you had as a child. You’ve spent hours showing her pictures, telling her stories about your old dog, Marley, explaining how much it would mean to you. She lived a long, happy life, passing away in her sleep just before Christmas a few years ago. Every time, Wanda has firmly said no, listing all the reasons why it’s not a good idea. “We’re still settling into the house,” she’d said, her tone patient but firm. “A dog is a lot of responsibility and we’d have to train it, walk it, make sure it doesn’t chew on the furniture,” or, “we’re already busy with work,” she’d added another time. “We travel so much, it wouldn’t be fair to the poor thing. Who’s going to take care of it when we’re gone?” You’d groaned dramatically each time, accusing her of being worse than Scrooge and The Grinch combined. But deep down, you understood her concerns. You didn’t want to push too hard—mostly because you knew Wanda’s stubbornness was unshakable once she’d made up her mind.

By the time the Avengers start trickling into your home that afternoon, the excitement of hosting had distracted you from mourning your puppy dreams. Natasha is the first to arrive, punctual as ever. She steps inside, a bottle of wine in one hand, gifts in the other which she had rushed to put down under the tree, before pulling you into a quick, warm hug. “You two have really outdone yourselves,” she says, glancing around at the decorations. Her gaze lingers on the stockings hung above the fireplace, each bearing the embroidered name of an Avenger that Wanda had made many years ago. “We had to,” you reply with a laugh. “First Christmas in the new house. It’s all about setting the tone dude.” She scoffs, unwrapping her scarf from her neck. “Yeah well leave it to you two to make the rest of us look bad,” she adds, before handing the wine over to Wanda.”

In all honesty, you’d spent weeks decorating—Wanda with her meticulous approach and you with your love for the slightly over-the-top and ability to do whatever your wife wants. Your pièce de résistance sits proudly on the dining table: a centrepiece you’d made yourself years ago, which had endured years of abuse from being hastily stuffed into storage. For some reason, you attempted to fix it this week, adamant it must be apart of the Christmas display.

“Nice touch with the themed centrepiece by the way.” Natasha nods towards the table. You don’t miss the sarcasm in her voice. “Oh shut up! I worked really hard on that!”

You shove her in the direction of the kitchen, “Tell her Wanda.”

There was a moment of silence from your wife, who was arranging appetisers. Then, in her deadpan voice, she replies, “Yes, she worked really hard on it.”

It didn’t help.

Natasha erupts into laughter, glancing back at you while Wanda stifled a smile. “You are both rude!” You exclaim dramatically, stomping off toward the door as more guests arrived.

The banter continues as more of your friends showed, each one laden with infamous dishes, gifts, or, in Tony’s case, stories that have grown increasingly exaggerated since you moved out of his Tower. You could tell the old man missed you. He had always been like a father to you. The house was buzzing with life, laughter, and the sound of clinking glasses.

Within the hour, the party was in full swing.

It’s mid-afternoon, almost evening, when the doorbell rings again. You had somehow lost Wanda and Natasha in the midst of the chaos, balancing a plate of cookies as you step around Thor currently arm wrestling Tony with the glove of his suit on, when Yelena calls out, “I’ve got it!” She opens the door, immediately letting all the cold air in as she swings it fully open. “Oh my God,” you hear her say, her voice uncharacteristically soft, before she explodes, “What did you do?!” You turn, curious at all the commotion, and then freeze. Standing in the doorway is Nat, holding the tiniest Cavalier King Charles Spaniel puppy with a big red bow tied neatly around its neck. The puppy is wriggling excitedly in her arms, its big brown eyes scanning the blonde Russian, as it shook of the light dusting of snow that had fell on its coat.

“Nat,” you gasp, your eyes wide as you made you way over. “Did you—did you get this for me?” She shakes her head, her smirk deepened at your expression. “Not me,” she says, holding the puppy out to Yelena, all the while side stepping into the house, revealing your wife stood sheepishly behind her. “This is all Wanda.”

You whip back around to look at your wife, who’s standing before you, her hands nervously twirling her rings. Her lips curve into a small, shy smile, and she shrugs. “Merry Christmas, darling,” she says softly, her voice barely audible over the light buzz of the party. Your eyes fill with tears as you take the puppy from Yelena, her tiny body warm and wiggly against you. “Wands,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I thought you said—”

“I know what I said,” she interrupts, walking closer to you. “But I’ve seen how much you wanted this, how happy it would make you. And... I wanted to give you that happiness.” She reaches out to scratch behind the puppy’s ears, her green eyes gentle as they flicker between you both. “I may have gone overboard with the excuses but that was only to throw you off our scent,” she admits. “Nat helped me find her. We’ve been planning this for months.”

The tears spill over as you wrap your free arm around Wanda, pulling her into a tight hug. “I can’t believe you did this.” You murmur into her damp hair. “You bloody witch!”

You both share a laugh before she replies, “I’d do anything for you, love. And her now, I guess.” The puppy lets out a soft yip, wriggling once again in your arms, and you both giggle. Wanda leans in to kiss you, her lips cold and tingling against yours. “You know, you’re going to be the best dog mom.”

“No, we’re going to be the best dog moms.” You reply, pulling her through the threshold.

Wanda closes the door behind you as you practically ran into the living room. “Everybody look! Wanda finally made me a mommy!” You joke, lifting the tiny puppy high enough for everybody to see. The room erupts into cheers and laughter as the Avengers take turns fawning over the puppy. Tony is the first to chime in, of course; “I give it two weeks before that thing destroys your furniture. Three if you’re lucky.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Pepper coos, leaning down to pet the puppy. “She’s adorable. What’s her name?”

“I don’t know yet,” you admit, looking at Wanda. “We haven’t decided.”

“We haven’t?” Wanda arches an eyebrow, obviously teasing. “I thought this was your Christmas miracle. Naming her is your job.”

You cradle the puppy close, overwhelmed with joy. “Hmm she looks like a… Sadie.”

“Sadie it is,” Tony says, scratching behind the puppy’s ears. “A very fitting name for the newest member of the team.”

Thor, ever the dramatic, raises his glass. “A toast! To Sadie, the cutest yet fiercest warrior of all Cavaliers, and to the greatest union of Midgardian love I have ever seen!” The group echoes his toast with playful enthusiasm, clinking glasses and adding their own dramatic declarations. You roll your eyes but can’t suppress your laughter as Sadie barks, seemingly agreeing with the sentiment. Amid the noise, Wanda moves closer, her hand brushing your arm. You turn to her, and the world seems to quiet. Her eyes are fixed on you—on the way your face lights up as you cradle Sadie your chest, on the soft laugh that escapes your lips when she licks at your nose.

“I love you,” she murmurs, so softly that only you can hear it. Your eyes meets hers, and you know she’s not just talking about today. You see it in the way Wanda loves all of you—your quirks, your persistence, your endless enthusiasm for life. The way she wants to give you everything, even the things she swore she wouldn’t, everything and more. “I love you,” you whisper back, leaning in to kiss her.

As the night goes on, and the party has fizzled out, you catch Wanda watching as you dote on Sadie on the floor. Her red bow had been replaced by a pink collar Wanda had stuffed into one of your gifts from under the tree. When you finally sit on the couch, bringing along little Sadie who’s managed to work her way into your wife’s lap, she finally leans in and whispers, “Best Christmas ever, right?”

You beam from ear to ear, tears stinging your eyes, as you take in the sight of your little family— of your true Christmas miracle.

“More than you’ll ever know.”

[reason-with-the-underdog]

au where siraj recruited kaveh into his hivemind, except kaveh doesn't know he's in a hivemind

ok so in a series of unfortunate events, kaveh is inducted into siraj's hivemind.

...except he has no idea he's in a hivemind & just thinks he has weirder intrusive thoughts than usual

so the hivemind is suddenly full of:

"the cross-tensile strength of concrete made with fine grit sand + seawater is.." and

"remember to place another order of those beautiful tiles" and

"i can't believe alhaitham wakes up an hour early to drink coffee leisurely before work"

...wait what?

siraj goes from being jubilant over recruiting the light of the kshahrewar into his hivemind(!!!!) to realising very quickly that hivemind thoughts about alhaitham have increased by 250%.

in three days.

basically kaveh accidentally hijacks siraj's hivemind lmao with his 21 revision draft woes and also with the thought of how cute alhaitham is when he hums while doodling

imagine if alhaitham goes through all the effort of his SQ and then he discovers that the hivemind is already in shambles bc there's a civil war waging between two camps:

"alhaitham is the worst" and

"alhaitham is misunderstood"

(kaveh is leader of them both btw)

kaveh has no idea he's part of the hivemind (and has been considering hivemind thoughts to be intrusive thoughts) so when they get more negative, he's just like "wow brain i know alhaitham's the worst but that's a little extreme... he should be nicer to me though, you're right, brain"

once the truth is revealed, kaveh would be VERY horrified to discover that many many strangers know a bunch about his personal problems

(he got tipsy and went on a passionate rant about how capitalism devalues what it cannot sell to the masses, the hivemind was ENRAPTURED and agreed to form a union immediately...

siraj put a stop to that, absolutely no need for unions in a hivemind!!!)

it turns out that the hivemind has incredible potential for unlocking human brainpower beyond individual capacity, exactly by design ...which also means its easily hijacked by strong emotional appeals for idealistic causes

exactly what kaveh is good at--

except kaveh isn't actually trying to radicalise anyone into becoming activists. he just thinks a lot about how the decline of arts in sumeru is a leading sign of academic society's downfall... also about how there exists disrespectful juniors who always keep score, whatever happened to common decency!

so this means siraj & kaveh having a brain fight broadcast over hivemind like:

siraj: alhaitham is a terrible scribe who will kneecap the akademiya with his close mindedness

kaveh: don't be preposterous, he's actually really good at his job. alhaitham can't stand incompetence, especially in himself

another hivemind member: shut up about alhaitham already

siraj & kaveh: no.

bear in mind that this is the time period where kaveh built mehrak bc he was lonely so when he accidentally joins the hivemind, there are no red flags to him bc hell yeah, he's not lonely anymore, he's got a bunch of random voices in his head now

call that problem solving 😤😤🧠‼️

tighnari is mildly concerned when kaveh stops ranting to him as much about his roommate woes as of late. kaveh says that he's gotten better at talking with the voices in his head about his emotional problems, actually more helpful than you'd think

tighnari: the what now

kaveh: idk remember that one time you said i should see a therapist

tighnari: yeah..?

kaveh: well i looked up how much that costs & oof... anyways some stuff happened and then now its like i have imaginary group therapy sessions

tighnari: now you need that therapist even more tbh

siraj went from congratulating himself for recruiting the light of kshahrewar into the hivemind to experiencing major regret in 0.4 seconds bc it turns out kaveh has unmedicated adhd and now the hivemind is:

20% rug facts

12% fancy angles

28% eco-friendly wood veneer

25% alhaitham thots

15% wine math

recruiting kaveh into the hivemind is the beginning of the end for siraj's plotting bc the hivemind's existence becomes known now that alhaitham suddenly goes from being "who? oh, is that the scribe?" to:

oh my god IM SICK OF HEARING ABOUT HIM

he sounds like a dick tbh

i know way too much about how this guy prefers his coffee, almost like we had lived together??

imagine if kaveh mostly ignored the responses he gets from the hivemind (there's plenty of thoughts going on in his head, no need to pay attention all of em) except for when he needs witty quips to respond to alhaitham with, which the hivemind delivers, pronto

quality of life upgrade right there for kaveh, huge!

imagine having all the computing power of a hivemind at your fingertips... and you use it to come up with clever remarks for your housemate who you absolutely do not think too much about

(the hivemind goes absolutely wild when they learn that alhaitham chuckles at one response)

siraj is coping & seething SO HARD btw this hivemind was supposed to benefit HIM the most!!!! how did this happen. this is all alhaitham's fault, clearly

kaveh: ok random negative thought, not everything is alhaitham's fault. i'm perfectly capable of creating my own problems!!

anyways the hivemind falls apart, for entirely different reasons to canon, but also very much due to alhaitham's existence. kaveh still doesn't know who siraj is

[readychilledwine]

hi, i’ve recently found your blog + wow, you’re writing is amazing! i have an idea for i would like to request, i hope that’s okay.

reader has just came home from book club w nesta, gwen and emerie at the house of wind. reader is mated to az - they’re been mated for about a few years. still reader has met nesta, reader almost always has her nose in a book - smutty book to be exact. reader is kinda embarrassed by this bc she wasn’t one to read smutty books before meeting nesta. az is starting to question why reader is always so invested in a book or why he has hardly seen reader for the last couple of weeks. az picks up the book reader is currently reading behind reader’s back & starts to get a little jealous maybe? az may confront reader about the book? i’m not to sure about the ending, but i do know az would do something like asking reader what their favorite scene & they could reenact it or something of that nature. i could totally see az teasing reader just a little bit as well.

i love for you to put your own spin on this. thank you 🩷🩷🩷

Book Boyfriend

Summary - Azriel has gotten a little tired of your reading habits.

Warnings - Az is a kind of a dick

A/n - I went the spicy mad Az route, and don't worry. Per Liz tradition, it's open for another part.

Azriel could have burned the damn book in your hands. You hadn't set it down in 3 days.

3 fucking days of you and Nesta curled into each other, drinking Rhysand's expensive wine, reading that stupid thick book.

He knew you loved to read. Books and book related gifts had been his go-to gifts for you since the mating bond snapped 100 years ago. But the obsession since Ness was made was unbearable.

He never had to fight for your attention until now. He felt a shoulder brush his. "Ah, they're in the "We don't want Cassian to know we're reading smut," pose."

Azriel froze, feeling down the bond and trying to get to your end. You had it locked down, but there was a soft blush on your and Nesta's cheeks. "How do you know its smut?"

Cassian sighed. "It's all they read, Azzy. Have you not noticed?"

His shadows darkened. You had hardly kissed or touched him in 3 days in favor of a smut novel? He could show you things, do things, most authors would only think of in their sick dreams.

He felt himself paling under Cassian's gaze. Was he not pleasing you anymore? Was he not performing to your expectations? You always seemed content, spent, and overjoyed when you two had sex.

"I need a fucking drink." Azriel stormed away. Slamming the door to your shared chambers shut. He took on look at the crystal whiskey decanter and decided to drink until you came to the room.

Azriel woke up to soft footsteps and the feeling of a blanket getting laid across him. He heard you sigh, falling into bed, then that faint creak of an unbroken in book spine opening.

Meaning you had a new book. A new smut novel to ignore him with. A new fake boyfriend to imagine between your thighs.

Azriel stood on shaking legs, and he went to bed. Watching as you snapped to book shut and set it on your nightstand title down. "Did I wake you?"

"Yup." He curled into the bed facing away from you. It was childish, but if you weren't happy, you could have just told him instead of replacing him.

When he woke up, raging headache and all, you were gone. But the book wasn't. He reached over and grabbed it, cracking the spine out of spite. 55 chapters in, and Azriel was bored. If he tried to fuck you on a table covered in paint, you'd glare at him about the mess. About getting paint 1000 places you shouldn't.

So why the hell were you reading a book about it?

It was late into the evening when you returned. Azriel had finished the book, marking specific things he wanted to confront you about. He didn't stand as the door opened, didn't greet you as you came in with a few bags. You were all smiles, dolled up in a pretty dress. Your hair was loosely curled, and makeup was done.

"Where the fuck have you been?" It came out as harsh as he expected it to. "I take a week off and you have hardly spent time with me."

He watched you jump, eyes going wide as you took a few steps back. "Nesta wanted to go into town. We lost track of time. I-"

"Lost track of time? Aren't you the female who taught Rhysand how to properly track the stars and sun?" He stalked toward you, book in hand. "Did you two go to find more vitriol like this?" He held it up, watching as your cheeks flushed and you went to reach for it.

"Azriel-"

He lifted it above his head. "You haven't touched me in weeks. You've kissed me maybe once. Hell, yesterday you were content to leave me on the damn couch. I can see why though, you're sitting here getting your needs met by some fictional fae lord instead of me. If you aren't happy anymore just tell me."

Shock hit your face slowly, mind whirling and emotions pouring into him from the bond. "Azriel, it's a book. Not another male."

That wasn't enough for him. "And how many times have you pleasured yourself to this book? Thinking about the main character between your thighs?"

You sighed. "To that one? Not a single time. I haven't gotten to read it and you already damaged the spine." The sadness in your voice made him pause, lowering the book until you could grab it.

You were always so gentle with your books, caring for them and placing them somewhere safe. Bookmarks never sat in them for too long out of fear of damage. He watched you stroke the spine, going to the bookshelf and placing it in the spot it would belong in to match your color based organization.

"Is this really about a book, or is something else going on?" You wouldn't look at him, wouldn't say his name. He could hear the soft tremble. "I'm sorry I made a friend. I'm sorry I've been spending time with Nesta instead of you. But she gets it. She gets how feeling like you don't belong in this family feels," a stab to his chest. "She gets how feeling out of place among you all feels," the stab turning into a gapping wound that had him leaning against the couch. "She gets what it's like to have a mate that is busy and expects you to be here waiting."

You had ripped his heart out. In 100 years, this had never come up. There had never been signs. "Y/n-"

He watched in silence as you held a hand up, moving to grab some clothes and a hair brush. "I'm going to sleep in a guest room tonight. This could have been turned into something beautiful, Az. We could have used these books to inspire fun in our bedroom," your hand ran along that damaged book. "Instead, you disrespected my belongings, accused me of an unthinkable act, and made this about your fragile ego."

You left the room, silence falling in the wake. Azriel stared at the book he had damaged. It was a first edition. A soft shade of blue with swirls of darkness. He walked to it, head hung in shame.

It was an escape. A way for you to cope with your feelings. No different than him training, and he had ruined it.

And now, he checked his calendar, he had 4 days to make it up to you before he, Cassian, and Nesta were gone for a month.

Leaving you alone all over again with nothing but an empty house and a book boyfriend.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

💕 As always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist💕

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Behavioral Tactics - Spencer Reid & Stiles Stilinski

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

•Pairing - Spencer Reid x Reader x Stiles Stilinski

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Someoneʼs fantasies about having Spencer Reid & Stiles Stilinski at the same time (Why choose, right?) are about to come true, after a little bit of wine and a lot of flirting.

•Warnings/Content - piv unprotected (DONT DO THIS KIDS - AND WITH 2 DIFF DUDES JUST LET IT BE FANTASY AND BE HORNY IN YOUR BRAIN HOLES OKAY) ; A-Z all bases covered bc Iʼm one horny bish ; Reader- focused 3-some if that wasnʼt evident ; Spencer and Stiles are HOT SO JUST BE WARNED OKAY ; Mentions of alcohol, some lil bits of bondage and such thingies, SO MUCH PRAISE, petnames and such IʼM SORRY IʼM CHEESY OKAY

•Word Count - 3.5k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Yaʼll this is just PURE self indulgence at this point, so if anyoneʼs also into it, cool cool cool - I pretty much imagine reader to be Stiles' age and they're in their mid-to-late 20's with Spence around 16 years their senior but you can imagine it however you want! // ALSO TYSM FOR ALL THE NOTES ON MY FIRST FEW WRITING BLURBS OMF YAʼLL MAKE MY DAY I SWEARRRRR

•Additional Tags - Switch!Reader but mostly Sub!Reader, Switch!Spencer, Dom!Stiles, Slightly Tipsy Wine Night Turns Into PURE FILTH, Consent AS ALWAYS Is Important, Brat!Reader fr fr, Boys Whimpering I JUST 🤌🏻

Spencer wasnʼt usually one to drink, but this was a special occasion, he says - the three of us werenʼt able to see one another often, and so a second half-empty wine glass was currently in his hand, in danger of being spilled as Stiles finishes his story and makes the older man laugh so hard his face goes red.

“You told him you would what?ˮ He crows, eyebrows raised.

“I said it once, Iʼm not saying it again.ˮ Stiles shakes his head, reaching for the wine bottle Iʼve currently got clutched to my side. “Hey, refill me, why donʼt you?ˮ

I shake my head; Iʼm feeling fuzzy and light, and enjoying the game of keep-away far too much at the moment to let it go. The idea of them having to wrestle it away from me gives me a funny feeling in my stomach, but I ignore it.

Or so Iʼd thought. Because the moment the idea crosses my mind, their eyes catch it. Micro-expressions. I knew the term well from many late-night conversations with my two close friends, as they were both FBI agents, one specifically focused on analyzing behavior. How had I expected to hide this from them? It was only a matter of time until-

“Sheʼs doing it again.ˮ

“Huh? Iʼm doing…what? Iʼm not doing anything.ˮ

“Dilated pupils,ˮ Spencer notes, as if heʼs diagnosing something clinical. “Reddened skin. Iʼd stand to wager…elevated heart rate, as well?ˮ

Getting up from their shared couch, Stiles reaches for the wine, but instead, his hand brushes my neck with a careful look in his eye. Iʼm fixated, unable to move or speak, or really even breathe, to think of it.

“Youʼre right on the money, Reid.ˮ He nods, his fingers at my pulse point. My skin is burning at the sudden intimacy.

“Whatʼre you guys going on about?ˮ

“Still playing innocent?ˮ Stiles chuckles, backing up. I let out a heavy breath, half- caught in my throat over a newly forming lump.

“I have no idea what…ˮ

“Weʼre talking about?ˮ Spencer finishes, licking his lips and leaning forward. “Oh, but I think you do. Donʼt you agree, Stiles?ˮ

Stiles nods, not even looking at him. Theyʼre both hyper-focused on me, and the attention feels both fantastic and utterly unbearable at the same time.

“Every time weʼve gotten together, the three of us,ˮ Stiles continues, reaching out a hand and beckoning me forward. They shuffle apart, making a space between the two where Iʼd fit…if I wanted. “Itʼs undeniable. The looks you give.ˮ

My heart is in my throat, eyeing the space that Spencerʼs now patting. I set the bottle aside, the game utterly forgotten.

“I-ˮ

“Did we misread?ˮ He raises an eyebrow, setting down his glass. “Iʼd thought for sure you were thinking of us all…together.ˮ

The sip of wine Iʼd been taking that turned more into a chug comes back up into my glass. I cough, pushing it away. Stiles takes it, making sure Iʼm alright before continuing Spencerʼs thought.

“Sweetheart, if weʼre making you uncomfortable-ˮ

“No, not at all.ˮ I blurt, looking back and forth between them. Spencer, with his hair slicked back and slightly disheveled, who Iʼve thought of time and time again but never had the courage to do anything about besides call out his name in my late nights alone with myself; Stiles, my best friend, my confidante…one of the most attractive men Iʼve ever known. The whirlwind of explicit mind pictures involving him goes back a long, long time. Yes, Iʼve thought about it. Dreamt of it. But for it to actually happen, to no longer just be a fantasy, was never something Iʼd anticipated.

“I told you,ˮ Spencer smirks, not at all cocky - just knowing he was right.

I flush. “You guys talk about me alot, huh?ˮ

"About us, sometimes.ˮ Stiles nods, still eyeing me and beckoning me to sit. “Look, really, if you arenʼt into the idea, Iʼll back off. Weʼll back off,ˮ He amends, a short glance to his side. “But honestly, itʼs been a long time coming, hasnʼt it? You and us.ˮ

His words are divine, luring me in. Iʼm taking his hand before my mind can catch up, and sitting in the space between them. The heat from their bodies is only a further spur into this dangerous new game weʼre playing, now.

“I think…youʼre okay with it, arenʼt you?ˮ Spencer murmurs, gentle but teasing. He brushes my hair from my neck, leaning closer.

“Youʼre drunk,ˮ I let out a nervous laugh, shivering at his touch. Stiles is mirroring him on my left, although heʼs a bit more brazen, closer to me, his lips at my ear.

“Not even close,ˮ He chuckles, breath tickling my skin. “A glass or two isnʼt nearly enough to get me drunk. How about you, Spence?ˮ

“Nope.ˮ

“Well, I-ˮ My eyes flutter shut when Stilesʼ kiss hits my neck, brain going fuzzy. Oh, my god, what?

“Are you?ˮ Spencer goads, his hand resting on my thigh. “Iʼve certainly seen you drunk off of at least twice what youʼve had tonight, and from that point of reference, Iʼm going to say youʼre more in the buzzed-to-tipsy range.ˮ

“Just say no, I mean it,ˮ Stiles pulls back, his voice a husky whisper. “Consentʼs more important, Iʼll just take care of business myself, if I gotta.ˮ

“Iʼm fairly sober,ˮ I admit, looking at him. Gods, I want to kiss him. I want to kiss them both. “And Iʼm okay with it if you are. If…you both are?ˮ

“Okay with it?ˮ Spencer laughs. I catch the edge of his grin out of the corner of my eye, unsure who to focus on.

“I want it.ˮ I swallow, ready and willing to admit to every brazen thought Iʼd ever had. The temptation is much too strong, the lull of their voices and hands and lips and eyes and… Oh, good heavens, here we fucking go.

“Thatʼs evident in your behavior,ˮ Spence teases, hand slowly inching up my leg. “Do you want to lead, or be lead?ˮ

Not one to wait on me to respond, Stiles is back at my neck, and Iʼm finding it hard to speak. Rather than attempt words at this point, I tug at Spencerʼs collar, eyes on his lips.

His gaze, heavy-lidded and lust blown, drinks in my desperation for but a moment, then heʼs kissing me - and what a feeling it is, to have their attention centered on me. All at once, distracting and overwhelming, yet I canʼt get enough. Spencer kisses like he needs air and Iʼm oxygen, devouring me to the point Iʼm almost being pushed into Stilesʼ lap.

“Hey, there,ˮ Sti chuckles, gripping me tighter the moment Spencer backs off. “My turn?ˮ

I nod, more nervous about this than even Spencer had made me. Something about Stiles has always just…gotten to me, that way. And now is certainly no exception, with him pulling me into his lap and pulling my face down to his own.

Kissing Stiles is much different than kissing Spencer; Where Spence is hungry, Stiles is almost animalistic, despite being entirely and simply human - he makes up for it in the passion he brings, deep and hot and breathy kisses that make my head spin.

“We should- uh, my room?ˮ I mumble against him, reaching for a hand from either one of them. They both take me up on it, and let me lead them up the stairs. I can feel their bemusement coming off of them in waves, sprinkled into the desire that has them so warm Iʼm already sweating in my minimal clothes.

Once the doorʼs shut behind us, and Iʼm sat on my bed, their gazes have mefeeling so indescribably small.

“So eager, sweet girl.ˮ Stiles cooes.

“Look at you, weʼve barely touched you and youʼre already squirming.ˮ Spencer smirks, slowly undoing his belt without breaking eye contact. “Think you can be patient for us?ˮ

My eyes flick between them, one locking the door while the other, taller one is approaching me; I instinctively reach for him, but Spence tuts, pushing me back.

“Guess not,ˮ He chuckles, motioning for me to move back towards the headboard. I have a sinking feeling I know exactly where heʼs going with this, and I whine in protest as Iʼm proved right - wrists pinned above my head, secured with the very belt that had just been around his hips.

“Youʼre gonna be trouble, arenʼt you?ˮ

“Of course she is,ˮ Stiles laughs, coming to sit on the bed with us. They both gaze at me, helpless as I am, with the utmost mix of adoration and desire. I had expected to feel enjoyment from this, but safety? Oh, itʼs the cherry on top of a very delicious cake.

“No, Iʼll be good - I swear."

“Of course you will, sweetheart.ˮ Spencer tips my chin up to him as he climbs on top of me. It kills me that I canʼt reach up and touch him, and with that little smirk spreading across his face, he knows. Between him leaning down to kiss me again, and the gentle but firm hands of Stiles snaking up my thighs, Iʼm breathless and pleading.

“Please, please, just-ˮ

Spencerʼs lips cut me off, and I let myself get lost in the haze of him for a moment, just a moment. My attention snaps back into focus when I feel my shorts being tugged down my thighs.

“You two…ʼtryna kill me.ˮ I moan, and I can feel Spencer smile against me.

“Actually, the likelihood of dying due to any type of sexual arousal or intercourse is fairly minimal, so youʼre likely in the clear.ˮ He quips.

“If I could roll my eyes-ˮ

“Oh, weʼll give you something to roll your eyes back for.ˮ Stilesʼ voice comes from right above my heat, and I shudder, bucking up to try to grasp any sort of friction.

“Calm down, pretty girl.ˮ Spencer chides, his hand gripping my jaw and bringing me deeper into the kiss. I sigh, giving in, and simply allow his kisses on my lips, my neck, and Stilesʼ slow and agonizing undressing of my lower half.

He lets out a low noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, once my panties are discarded. “Youʼre a fuckinʼ mess, princess. Is that all for us?ˮ

Itʼs all I can do to let out an approving whine, a not so subtle begging for something, anything to break this coil built up in my belly. My arms are starting to hurt from the amount of tugging Iʼve been doing to try to get free, but I can barely even feel it. I just need them, both of them, so badly.

“Cʼmere, get a look at her.ˮ Stiles pulls Spencer back, and he pouts a moment before focusing on me - well, the lower half of me.

“Fuck.ˮ Spencer groans, rubbing his chin with a slack-open mouth. “You werenʼt kidding. Pretty girl, youʼre wet.ˮ

“Are you gonna do anything about it?ˮ My tone is desperate, but entirely bratty. The looks I get from the pair of them tells me Iʼm gonna pay for that.

“We could just leave you there and take care of ourselves.ˮ Spencer snaps back, but I can see in his eyes thatʼs the last thing he wants. I donʼt have to be a profiler to know how badly he wants to be inside me right now.

“Or we could do it together,ˮ Stiles adds, watching my reaction. “Oh, you would like that a little too much, though, wouldnʼt you? Does that get you off, sweet girl?ˮ

I nod. “Okay, Iʼll behave, just please, touch me or something?ˮ

“Sheʼs so pretty when sheʼs desperate for us, isnʼt she?ˮ Stiles smirks, leaning over me tauntingly. One hand traces lightly over my thigh, ever so gently. Spencer sits right on the other side of me, his grasp a bit more firm, a lot closer to where Iwant them to be.

“Aw, I think she deserves at least a little something.ˮ Spencer cooes, bringing his free hand to his mouth. I watch in awe as he sticks his fingers in and brings them out with a pop, so sure of himself as he brings them to my folds. Gentle but swift, he inserts one, then two fingers, once he hears the noise of relief I let out.

“S-Spence-ˮ

“There you go, beautiful. Just needed someone to touch you, huh?ˮ

The long, practiced fingers of Spencer Reid send my mind into a tailspin; Unable to think of anything other than the sheer pleasure and joy of knowing this is actually happening, I canʼt bring myself to feel any sort of self-consciousness - I only know the sweet nothings they whisper, and once Iʼve hit my limit and cried out for Spencer, how they trade off and now itʼs Stilesʼ turn to learn my body.

Somehow, though his touch is different, itʼs equally as pleasant, from the tugs he makes against my sweet spot to the thumb rubbing circles against my throbbing clit. Only when Iʼve came for him, as well, does Spencer gently push him aside, positioning himself between my folds with a hungry groan.

Stiles climbs up to kiss me, and Spencerʼs kiss…is somewhere else entirely. Iʼm mewling against the lips that suck on mine, bucking up despite myself into Spencerʼs face. He takes it well, only gripping my thighs harder and pressing his tongue deeper into my core. I can feel myself leaking onto his chin, and like a man starved, he eats with a deepseated hunger and noises that make my stomach twist. Mumbles and groans of ‘you taste so goodʼ push me over the edge once, twice, I lose count.

When itʼs time for the expected switching, Iʼm aching to feel something more, and it seems Spencer can sense this; while he climbs up to kiss me, he also sets to releasing my binds.

“Wanna know a little secret of mine?ˮ He whispers, voice low in my ear. “Iʼd like to see you take a little bit of your control back…just a bit.ˮ

The release I give into Stilesʼ mouth as I kiss Spencer, now that Iʼm free to do whatever I please with my hands, is monumental. Iʼm tearing at Spenceʼs clothes, and he responds with pulling my shirt over my head, his mouth latching onto my breasts. I cry out, more than ready for everything this will give me. It doesnʼt take long for the three of us to get undressed, heat of the moment as it is.

“Please-please-ˮ

“Thereʼs no need to whine, love.ˮ Spencer murmurs, tracing down a pattern from my lips to my chest. “What do you need? Use your words.ˮ

“Someone needs to be inside me, and now.ˮ

This earns a chuckle from the both of them.

“Are we flipping a coin?ˮ Stiles quips, sidling up behind me as Spence rolls off to my front.

“Statistically speaking, it is the most-mmm-ˮ His voice lilts as I reach for him, eyes fluttering when I stroke. “Now thatʼs not…fair.ˮ

Stiles reaches over across my hip, circling my clit. “Behave, princess.ˮ

I rut back against him, earning a low moan.

“Someone. Either. Both?ˮ

“Now that sounds difficult to…position-ˮ Spence grunts.

Stiles takes the opportunity of my distraction to shift me a bit, pressing his tip to my folds. One rut forward and heʼs swiftly entered, making my hand and voice stutter against Spence. “Good girl,ˮ Stiles cooes, brushing my hair off of my neck and kissing at it as he works to find a pace inside me. “Good girl.ˮ

I whine - really, thereʼs no other word for it - and do my best to continue pleasuring Spencer, but the overstimulation of it all makes my brain go numb. Heʼs helpful, though, fucking up into my hand and echoing Stilesʼ praises with gentle and passionate kisses to my lips, my chest, my jaw. When Sti rolls me over, pulling out and climbing onto me before getting back to it, Spencer backs up and eyes us with utterly delicious lust, his hand pumping slow and hard against himself.

The noises filling my room are lewd, downright nasty, but the feelings are just so good, I canʼt bring myself to feel anything but disgusting pleasure from it all. Have we been here for hours now? Days? It feels like itʼs been forever and yet no time at all. The scratches Iʼve left down Stilesʼ back wonʼt be going anywhere for likely just as long. When the beautiful man wants to use my mouth, Iʼm ready and willing, and take his load without blinking. I doubt Iʼll ever get over the sight of him letting go and howling my name, either.

“There you go…did sʼgood for me.ˮ He praises, wiping the stray trail from my lips as he backs up, a sweet kiss to my cheek as well. “Spence?ˮ

“Only if sheʼs up for it,ˮ Spencer approaches slowly, eyeing me carefully. “How about it, pretty girl?ˮ

I nod fervently, and he likely would have laughed if he wasnʼt so overtaken. I reach out to pull him onto me, but he lifts me up and mumbles something about it ‘being my turn to be on topʼ. Hesitantly, I adjust myself until Iʼm hovering over him. Something about those eyes on me has my heart thudding so hard Iʼd almost think heʼd hear it; The noise that rips from me when I sit down onto him is almost criminal.

“Youʼre in control,ˮ He tells me, hands on my hips as but a guide to rock me back and forth. “Do what you will with me.ˮ

I set to making a pace with him, and to my enjoyment, Spencer is a whimperer when I do it just right. “You feel… fuck, you feel so good on me, baby. Better than I ever imagined, my mind canʼt even do you justice, and thatʼs… saying something, oh my god-ˮ

“Sweet talker,ˮ I coo, grinding against him just to get more of those wonderful whimpers. “Youʼre gonna make me… Spence-ˮ

“Please, cum all over me, youʼve earned it, havenʼt you? Been so fucking good for me.ˮ

“I-I need-ˮ The words wonʼt escape, so I simply show him, bringing his hands to my breasts and motioning, pull.

Heʼs a diligent submissive for the moment, doing as I ask. And the waves crash over me and out of me and onto him with such intensity I almost lose vision. More, I want more, and Iʼm begging for it so much that he canʼt say no, rubbing a pattern on my pounding clit until Iʼm seeing stars.

“Doing okay, baby?ˮ

“I could take you two…all night.ˮ I moan. The energy to do so may put me in a coma, but…

“I wanna cum in you,ˮ He grips my chin, forcing me to look straight into his eyes. “Can I? Is that okay?ˮ

"Yes, so very okay.ˮ

As Spencer chases his high, heʼs sloppier and thrusting up into me with the loudest noises of the night from him, and again I lose count of the edges he sends me over; A sweet melody, him calling out to me as he topples over his edge and comes down, both of us running down the space where we meet. I collapse onto his chest, and he strokes my hair, soft and sweet praises and kisses a stark contrast to the dirty things weʼd all done together tonight.

A strange noise rips from the edge of the bed, and we turn to look and see Stiles, completely passed out and snoring.

“Is he…?ˮ

“He is.ˮ

We laugh, careful not to wake the poor boy as Spencer gets to work cleaning me up. Once heʼs done so, I tug Stiles up into bed with us, relishing in them holding me on either side.

“Mmmm…sleepy.ˮ He groans, snuggling into me. “That was fuckinʼ something.ˮ

“Very much something.ˮ Spencer agrees, smirking on the other side of me.

“Something we should do again sometime?ˮ

“Yes!ˮ Stiles whines. “Just…lemme sleep more first, and Iʼm ready…tʼgo…ˮ

Spencer and I laugh again, and itʼs clearly a unanimous decision - this will happen again. And thank the gods, because I certainly havenʼt gotten enough of them just yet.

[agaypanic]

Hey :) I was wondering if since it’s a leap year you would maybe write a oneshot or blurb or smth with James Maguire x reader (maybe like Quinn!reader from your series??) where she proposes on the 29th of February bc it’s a tradition that comes from Ireland?? I just think it would be so cute bc he just totally wouldn’t see it coming and I’ve never seen anyone do it in a fic before

Leap Day (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You, the girls, and James are now well into your twenties. Life is perfect, except for one little thing that’s been on your mind. After taking with your friends about it, you figure you should take matters into your own hands.

A/N: won’t put it on my series masterlist, but this could be seen as an epilogue of sorts to the fella series (even tho it’s not finished yet lol) but obvi it can be read as its own thing. Also im american so sorry for any terminology and such i get wrong. reader, james, and the girls are obvi aged up

***

If you had told your younger self that you and your friends ended up staying in Derry after finishing school, she would’ve thought you lost your mind. All she thought about was graduating and leaving home, traveling the world, and escaping her pain-in-the-ass sister Erin and somewhat crazy family.

But if she saw the life you had now, she’d probably understand. Because you had everything you truly wanted.

You had a nice little job close to your flat where you managed a bookstore. It was a quaint shop that became a frequent stop for some of the local teenagers. Erin also stopped by every now and then to boast about what she had already read.

When you weren’t working, you were with your friends. You were a bit more tame than you were in your adolescence, but that all usually went out the window when Michelle got a drink or two in her. Which happened often.

But the best part of your day was when you’d go home to see your boyfriend of many years, the love of your life, James Maguire.

“So, what’s goin’ on with you and him, anyway?” Michelle asked as she messily poured everyone a glass of wine. Every now and then, you and the girls got together for a night to get drunk and catch each other up on anything that happened since the last time you’d gotten together. For some reason, you and James were a bit of a hot topic tonight.

“What d’ya mean, Michelle? You know what’s going on with us.” You laughed, taking your wine glass from her.

“I mean, when are the two of you getting hitched? Has he even popped the question to ya?”

“Believe me, Michelle, you’d all be the first to know if we got engaged.” You said a bit glumly, downing your drink and waving your glass around for Michelle’s attention to fill it again.

“He still hasn’t asked you?” Clare asked with an incredulous look. From the start, she had been a big supporter of your and James’ relationship. If it was up to her, you’d probably have a few kids and a house in the countryside by now. “You’ve been going out since we were sixteen! And you just turned twenty-five a few months ago, didn’t you?”

“Yup.” You responded, popping the ‘p.’ “Nine years and no ring.” You held your bare hand up to prove your point. “But I don’t mind too much. As long as we’re together, that’s really what matters.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Clare cooed.

“It’s shit.” Michelle countered.

“Michelle’s right, Y/n,” Erin said, grabbing a crisp from the bowl in the middle of the table. “You’ve been waiting for James to propose since we finished at Our Lady Immaculate; admit it.”

“Have not!” You laughed at the absurdity of your sister’s sentence, but the looks everyone gave you made it die down. “Okay, maybe a little. But not seriously! It was just like a dream, you know? Like Erin thinking she’ll get published or Granda thinking Ma will actually divorce Daddy.” 

Everyone giggled, except for Erin, who was grumbling about your little jab.

“Be serious, Y/n!” Clare laughed, patting your hand. “You’ve been waiting for him to ask for a long while.”

You looked down at your glass, swirling the wine around with a sigh. 

“Maybe a bit.” You answered quietly. It hadn’t really nagged at you too much until recently. After all, you had been together for almost a decade, and everyone else around you seemed to be getting engaged or married. You loved James; truly, you did. But it felt like you were missing out a little. “But I’m fine with waiting.”

“The question is, Y/n, how long are you gonna have to wait until he actually does it?” Erin asked, leaning forward to stare at you. You shrugged, not really knowing the answer and not really wanting to respond.

“You might as well ask him, Y/n!” Your cousin Orla said with a grin. She was always an optimist. “He might just be scared you’ll say no!”

“You know, now that you say it, that’s probably why he hasn’t asked yet,” Michelle said, taking a sip from her wine glass that had been filled more graciously than anyone else’s. “After all, James is a pussy.”

“Don’t call my fella a pussy, Michelle!” You reprimanded, yet you still laughed along with everyone else.

“I can call my cousin what I want. And the fact is that he’s a pussy!”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea, really,” Clare said when everyone’s chuckles had died down. She gasped. “This is a leap year! You could ask him on the twenty-ninth!”

“That’s next week, Clare.” You said a bit nervously. Of course, you’d marry James in a heartbeat. But the thought of proposing, especially so soon, made you a bit sick to the stomach. Now you realize why James probably hasn’t asked you yet.

“It’s either next week or another four years, Y/n,” Michelle said with a teasing smile.

You gulped, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. As you thought about it, you had to admit that it wasn’t really a bad idea. Sure, you had less than an ideal amount of time to plan everything out. But you could probably get something small but nice together.

“Okay… Who’s going ring shopping with me?” The girls squealed at your question, getting up to surround you in a drunken group hug.

***

It was the twenty-ninth, and you were a nervous wreck. The ring weighed heavy in your pocket as you paced around your dining room. Dinner was sitting waiting on the table, and you were playing your little speech of love over and over in your head. All you needed was James, who should be home soon. But as the minutes ticked by, you wished the clock would freeze so you could have more time to prepare for this.

“Darling, I’m home!” James called out as he opened the door, and you realized you were out of time. You skipped out to the front hall to greet your boyfriend.

“Hi, Jamie.” You cooed, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek before stepping away so he could hang up his coat. 

“Sorry I’m a bit late, needed to finish some things at the office.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, hun.” You waved your hands, both to dismiss his unneeded apology and to get rid of some nervous energy.

James gave you a quick peck before walking off to the bedroom to change, leaving you to overthink a bit more. You wanted tonight to be perfect. James deserved nothing less than that.

To pass the time, you grabbed a candle and placed it in the middle of the small table, finding a lighter to light the wick.

“It’s so nice to be home,” James murmured as he walked over to you, arms slinking around you to pull you close to his chest. He buried his face into your neck, leaving a kiss or two before taking a deep breath. “Dinner smells good.”

“Thank you, Jamie.” You turned your head to kiss his cheek before pulling away from him. The two of you sat down and started putting food on your plates.

You talked about anything and everything, James leading most of the conversation, which you were grateful for. You felt that if you had to talk too much, you’d either stutter too much or end up spoiling your surprise. James held your hand most of the time, playing with your fingers absentmindedly as he talked about something amusing that happened at work.

Eventually, your plates were clear and your cups were empty. James was finishing up a story about something a few of his lads had done while they were all watching some sports game you didn’t know much about. You knew that now was your time.

“Jamie?” He hummed, perking up at the sound of his name. 

“Yes, love?”

“I love you.” You didn’t really know how else to start.

“I love you, too, N/n,” James said, smiling as he squeezed your hand.

You took a deep breath, about to give the speech that you’d been preparing in your head.

“I’ve known that you were the one for me since we were fifth years. Probably since I first saw you at the bus stop. That’s probably crazy, knowing something like that so early and so young… But it’s true.” You laughed, thumb sweeping over his knuckles. “These have been the best years of my life, being with you. And it might be a bit selfish of me, but I want more of them.”

“Y/n…” James whispered, tilting his head. “What are you saying, darling?”

“We have a bit of a tradition here.” You say, wiggling your hand from James’ grasp and standing up. “Ladies’ Privilege, Bachelor’s Day, whatever you fancy calling it. Where on Leap Day, girls can propose to their fella.” You stuck your hand in your pocket, fiddling with the ring. “And seeing how it’s Leap Day now, and I have a ring and all, I guess there’s just one last thing to ask.”

James’ expression turned even more stunned when you got down on one knee, now holding the silver band up in front of him. 

“Will you marry me, Jamie?”

In the few seconds of silence after that question, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. He looked at you stunned, and you desperately wanted to know what was going through his mind. How long would you have to kneel on the ground for him to give you an answer?

But then he smiled brightly, and all your worry slipped away.

“Of course, I’ll marry you!” James slipped out of his chair to join you on the floor and grabbed your face, giving you a long and deep kiss. You gripped his curls in your free hand, the other resting on his shoulder. When he pulled away, he let out an airy laugh. “I never thought I’d be the one being proposed to.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” You giggled with him as you slipped the band onto his ring finger. “Happy Leap Day.”

“Happy Leap Day, indeed,” James said before kissing you again.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Perfect Little Family ~ BC [M]

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

PAIRING: Chan x fem!reader

GENRE: smut, minors DNI, trying for a baby, soft, cute chan, steamy scenes, non idol au, unprotected sex, pet names,

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

Date nights had been one in very few as of late but that wasn’t anyone’s fault, well, no one except your own. The two of you had two kids and were planning on having a third if you could ever get the time alone long enough to create a third life that was. Tonight seemed to be the night though, your chances of fertility were high and Chan was doing his best to hurry up and get to you.

“You’re saving my ass,” Chan said to Felix as he watched Felix load his two kids into his car and smirk over at his best friend, when Chan called and begged him to take the kids for the night he jumped at the chance. Felix loved playing uncle to your little boy and girl, when they were first born you’d had to kick Felix out of your house most days.

“I would say don’t mention it but I plan on bringing this up the next time we talk about my raise,” Felix winked as he joked making Chan chuckle nervously even though he knew he was kidding. The sitter you and Chan had organised had cancelled on you at the last second leaving you babysitter-less and Chan wasn’t going to waste a perfectly good night with you.

“Where’s Yn anyway?” Felix asked as he finally took the bag from Chan’s hand, noticing how nervous he appeared to be.

“At the hotel, I didn’t tell her the sitter cancelled.” When the sitter told Chan she was sick he didn’t want to completely cancel everything he’d planned for tonight and was going to do everything possible so he wouldn’t let you down. The two of you had been looking forward to this all week and you deserved a little time away.

“So, she thinks the teenager from down the road is going to be here all night?” Felix chuckled and Chan shook his head, it was only a little white lie and as soon as he got to you he was going to tell you the truth. He knew if he told you beforehand you would no doubt make a big deal about it and come home and that was the last thing he wanted.

“I’ll tell her when I get to the hotel that you’ve got the kids, she won’t mind.” It was true, you loved and trusted Felix with all of your heart and the only reason you hadn’t called him first was that you thought he would have been busy. Chan had been all kinds of relieved when Felix told him he was going to be free tonight. He planned on giving him whatever the younger man asked for as soon as he got to you.

“Have fun,” Felix smirked patting Chan on the back as Chan locked up the front door, his hands shaking with anticipation to get to you.

“Oh I plan on it,” They both laughed as Felix headed to the car and drove out of the driveway, leaving Chan to take in some deep calming breaths as he tried to think of what you would be doing at the hotel alone.

He’d told you to head there without him and he’d stay to wait for the sitter. The hotel room he’d gotten was huge and included a bunch of services you could have been using by now. The one he was most looking forward to was the shower waterfall the room had, his mind drifted to thinking of you in there and his cock twitched at the thought. It had been far too long since he’d had you all to himself and he planned on not stopping until you were both completely out of breath and you were full of him.

Chan walked into the hotel room, his eyes downcast into the bag he’d bought with him, inside were a few bottles of wine and some plastic cups, he figured the two of you would want to have a drink together.

“I bought us some drinks, I didn’t know if-” Chan’s voice slowly trailed to a stop when he slowly looked up to see you standing in the room in one of his white work shirts and he could clearly see the black lingerie set you had on underneath making his pants grow tighter.

“I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” You whined at him, taking the bag from his grasp and placing it down on the floor beside the door, Chan could barely think straight as you took his hand and lead him toward the sofa. Sitting him down and giggling while you sank down onto your knees in front of him as he stared down at you, his mouth hanging up a little.

“I-I had to get Felix to come and get the kids,” You nodded as he explained where he was and you slowly ran your hands up and down his thighs enjoying the way he seemed to tense up whenever you got a little too close to his crotch and he would let out a small hiss.

“You’re tense baby, want me to help you out?” You battered your eyelashes at him as he nodded, barely able to take his eyes off you as you slowly worked on the belt to his pants, pulling it off before you took off his jeans and slid them down. Throwing them behind you you giggle noticing him blushing, his ears turning a bright red colour.

“You’re so cute,” You whined at him, slowly palming him through the black boxers he was wearing enjoying the small hisses you received from him, smirking as he rocked his hips up a little to meet your touch.

“D-Don’t tease,” He growled a little, his eyes meeting yours as you nodded quickly stripping him off his boxers. Both of you acknowledged that it had been far too long since you’d gotten together like this and you were each going to be sensitive.

“I won’t,” You breathed out, slowly taking his cock into your hand and pumping him enjoying the way he grunted and twitched in your hand. You gently squeezed your hand around him, pumping him painfully slowly as you spat onto the head of his cock adding that extra bit of lubrication he needed for it to feel pleasurable.

“Oh fuck,” He whined out, his head lolling to the back of the sofa as he let his eyes drift shut and groan a little. You smiled seeing your husband in such a state and you continued to pump his cock slowly inching yourself closer to him until you licked from the bottom of his dick to the top, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head.

“Yn, Jesus,” He rasped staring at you as you keep the tip of his cock in your mouth, running your tongue along the underside of his dick making him twitch.

“No-” He was about to add “teasing” at the end of his order but you were already taking him into your mouth, slowly working your hand on what you couldn’t fit into your mouth earning more moans and praises falling from your husband's lips. 

“Just…Just like that,” He whispered out, his hands fisting beside his lap as he watched you, your mouth felt so good he never wanted this moment to end with you and was coming up with ways the two of you could get together more often. 

“S-Shit-” He moaned louder as you took him to the back of your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried not to gag around the size of him. Your hands gently reached up and massaged his balls as he whimpered a little. The tightness in his stomach grew tighter as he realised he was getting close,

“Baby…Baby we should-” His voice cracked as you took him from your mouth, slowly licking in small kitten stripes along the slit of his cock and his whole body shuddered. It had been a while since he’d had to recite lyrics in order not to cum so quickly but right now he was running through the lyrics to one of their fastest songs. He didn’t want to cum yet, he needed to be inside of you for that.

“D-Don’t.” He begged out, panting as you slowly pulled away from him, tilting your head as you shot your husband a confused look,

“I thought you liked when I gave you head,” The uncertainty and insecurity in your voice broke Chan’s heart and he shook his head, bringing you to sit down beside him.

“I do, I love it…b-But I don’t want to waste a single drop,” He blushes kissing down your neck as his fingers began to work on the buttons of your shirt.

“Did I mention how beautiful you look?” He questioned as your whole body began to heat up, the shirt you were wearing being discarded across the room

“Not yet,” You smirked, lifting the shirt he was wearing off and throwing it away, running your fingers gently down his chest and stomach, relishing in the way he whined at your touch. The two of you could spend hours doing this, nothing but touching and kissing one another but you were both desperate for something more tonight. 

“Well, you look positively breathtaking,” He mumbled against your neck as he kissed your soft skin. His hands worked behind your back to remove the lacy black fabric you were wearing. As much as he appreciated it, it needed to go and he needed to feel your skin against his.

“Look at you,” He smirked, running his fingers through your slit smirking as you bucked against his touch.

“Dripping and swollen all for me?” He chuckled deeply as he slowly pushed one finger into you, watching with a smirk on his face as you already began to rock back and forth on the digit, small moans falling from your lips. 

“C-Chan,” You breathed out, bucking against him as he began to curl his finger, using his thumb to rub against your sensitive clit making you hiss out.

“Please,” you whispered, not even sure what you were asking for but you needed something.

“Please what?” The cockiness in his tone didn’t go amiss as you shot him a death stare, the smirk on his face never faded as he waited for you to tell him what you needed.

“I want you,” Chan slowly removed his finger from you, chuckling as he knelt down in the same spot you had been previously and he slowly spread your legs apart.

“I need some time to recuperate, so let me return the favour.” your eyes never left him as he pulled you to the edge of the small sofa bringing your pussy straight to his face and earning a squeal from you. 

“C-Christopher, no teasing.” You shot at him as he smirked, winking before he delved into you with his tongue wasting no time in making you feel good. Your back arched away from the sofa as you rolled your head back against it,

“S-Shitting hell,” You cried out, letting your hands slowly run through his black hair and tugging on the strands ever-so-slightly pushing him deeper into you. Chan hummed around your cunt, sending vibrations through your core as you shifted against him. 

“More…Please,” You whispered as he smirked against you, slowly removing his tongue as he pushed two fingers into you. Pumping them in and out as he went knuckles deep. The room was filled with curse words and his name flying from your lupus as he continued to fuck his fingers into you at a steady pace. His tongue wasted no time in lapping your clit, sucking as he curled his fingers deep into you.

“C-Chan! Chan!” Your body began to squirm as you clenched around his fingers, Chan knew exactly what was coming which was why his movements never faulted. He continued his thrusts as you cried out, your breath catching in your throat as your body shuddered. Your orgasm rushed over you like a wave as you cried his name out again and again.

“A-Always so fucking good,” You moaned out as he slowly pulled away from you, you were fast to sink down in front of him on the floor and bring him into an intense kiss. The same sparks you felt all of those years ago were still there as you pulled him closer to you, your hands finding their way into his hair as he smirked against your lips.

“Let's go to the bed baby,” He chuckled pulling you both up from the floor as you headed in the direction of the hotel bed. Your lips never moved from his as he carefully walked you back toward the bed.

“I missed you,” You whispered as he slowly laid you down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to kiss you again and again.

“I missed you too baby,” He slowly spread your legs apart as you watched him, your eyes filled with lust as you ached for him to be inside of you. Slowly he began to line himself up at your entrance, smirking as you bucked against him.

“Someone’s desperate,” he teased lightly knowing damn well he was just as desperate as you to be close to each other again.

“Someone wants her husband's cock buried inside of her, hurry.” He chuckled to himself as he slowly pushed in you, grunting as you clenched around him. It had been far too long for either of you and you bit down on your lip at the slight pinching feeling you felt as he stretched you around him.

“Just a little more, angel.” He whispered to you, noticing the look of pain on your face, your hands clutched onto the sheets as you relaxed around him, moaning his name out as he finally sank all the way into you.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” He moaned out as his hands rested on your hips, you moaned out in response to him, slowly wrapping one of your legs around his hip as he smirked down at you. The two of you locked eyes and he began to slowly pull out of you, only to thrust back in.

“Fuck-” you breathed out as he continued to move inside of you, his hips slowly moving in and out of you as you clenched around him letting out a small hiss as he moved faster this time. 

“I love you so fucking much,” Chan moaned out, leaning down as he kissed you his hips picking up the pace as he chased his high. You smirked feeling him speed up, you knew he wouldn’t last long and you didn’t blame him, the last time you’d had sex was well over six months ago.

“I love you too,” You moaned out, kissing him deeply as you wrapped both your legs around his waist drawing him into the deepest parts of you as you clenched around him. His dick hit the exact spot you needed him with each deep thrust.

“God, you were made for me,” He looked down at you, one of his hands slowly moving to cup your face in his touch, running his thumb along your bottom lip as you smirked and drew it into your mouth, sucking softly earning a grunt from Chan. His hips began to pick up speed at the action and you giggled wildly,

“Don’t hold back, I need you.” You whined out as he continued to move inside of you, his hips slamming in and out of you as you felt your stomach beginning to tighten. The familiar sound of your blood pumping sounded in your ears and you knew you were close,

“D-Don’t! F-Fucking don’t stop,” You screamed out, dragging the sheets up in your clenched hands as he continued to roughly fuck into you. Your head spun as you began to feel as though your whole body was floating. Wet sounds filled the air of the hotel room mixing with the sounds of moaning and slapping skin and Chan smirked.

“Going to fuck a baby into you, angel.” Your hips bucked as you clenched around him at the words, your eyes flying open as you stared back at him and smirked. 

“F-Fill me up so good baby, fuck…I wanna feel it,” You begged as you dug the back of your feet into his hips pushing him deeper into you. Chan’s fingers slowly moved away from your face and he rubbed your clit. There was no way he would last much longer and he wanted you to cum before he did at least,

“C-Chan-” Your voice got interrupted by your scream as you came around him, twitching under him as your whole vision turned while. Your back arched away from the bed and Chan grunted loudly as he came into you. His hips bucked softly as he held still inside of you, staring down at you as you slowly came down from your high. The sight alone was beautiful to him, he could watch you for hours as you let out a small whimper.

“F-Fuck I missed that,” You whispered, watching as he slowly pulled out of you and collapsed onto the bed beside you, both of you panting and staring up at the ceiling.

“Me too,” He chuckled looking at you as he slowly wiggled his arm around you and pulled you to lay against his chest, your heart racing as you let out a small laugh.

“We have the hotel room all night…” You breathed out, your fingers beginning to trace patterns into his skin, Chan smirked down at you.

“And I plan on fucking you until you’re so full of cum you have no choice but to get pregnant,” He winked making you giggle and slide away from him.

“Then I guess you better come and try again in the shower,” You headed into the bathroom and he growled chasing after you. 

“Mummy. If it’s a girl can I do her hair?” Your daughter asked as she looked at the small ultrasound photo you had of your newest edition to the family. You’d just finished explaining to her and her brother that they were going to have another younger brother or sister when the time came.

“I’ll have to teach you but sure baby,” You said as you rubbed her back softly, watching as your son stared at your belly.

“Did you eat the baby?” He pouted, slowly poking your small bump while chan laughed from the corner of the room watching in amusement.

“No, but the little baby is protected in here. So mummy is looking after her until they’re big enough to come out.” You explained in the best way possible as your son smile and nodded his head, leaning forward to gently place a kiss on your bump making your daughter copy him.

“My perfect little family.” Chan breathed out, snapping a photo at the perfect moment.

tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @army24--7 @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy​ @aerastus​ @laylasbunbunny​ @critssq​ @lenfilms​ @btsiguess-kpop​

[butmakeitgayblog]

MBFW as parents sneaking in a quickie bc it’s been forever since they’ve gotten alone time? 🥺

It honestly felt like a page right out of their early days as a newly in love couple when they'd sneak away every single chance they could get.

A quick makeout in the third floor English department bathroom, slipping fingers beneath nudged aside underwear and breathing a sigh of relief into each other's mouth in the sorority house's coat closet during a rowdy party where they won't be missed. All the times they'd pulled at each other in desperate need for the world to wait just 10 more damn minutes, even though their schedules where constantly dragging them to the opposite ends of campus.

And having with two small children under the age of 5 certainly hasn't made things any easier this time around.

But what's exciting and exponentially better is the fact that now they have an actual bed.

A wonderful bed, with memory foam instead of cheap noisy springs, and a box frame that can handle whatever they throw at it.

Which was why they had grasped the opportunity to slip away from their house full of guests.

One look over the sea of party hat-topped toddlers and PTA moms working their way through a 3rd cup of 'Adult Juice' - that may or may not contain a healthy percentage of wine - and that was all it had taken for Lexa to fade into the shadows and slink out of the room with only fiery glance behind her. That was all it had taken for Clarke to laugh at the conversation she was no longer listening to before excusing herself with the excuse that she needed to check on something, uh... upstairs.

And Lexa had decided right in that moment that they would be rediscovering their lost art of disappearing more often in the future the second she pulled her wife into their room and latched on to that pretty mouth.

Seven years of marriage had done nothing to dull her addiction to taste of Clarke's lips. She moaned at the flavor of well salted pretzels and the triple berry punch their daughter had picked off the shelf at random for her 4th birthday bash, mixed with that flavor that she could only so elegantly describe as 'mmmm, Clarke tongue.'

Scrumptious.

Walking backward toward the bed and dragging her wife along for the ride, Lexa moaned with just how badly she'd been yearning for these few minutes alone. Between breastfeeding and diaper changes and treating a few hundred boo-boos on knees, it felt like it'd been an eternity since either could just enjoy a second to themselves without the heavy veil of exhaustion.

They smiled into their kisses, shushing each other's giggles of freedom as hands roved without restraint. The confines of time only made it all more giddy, more like a sweet rush of adrenaline as they collapsed into a graceless mess of limbs on the foot of their bed.

"What d'you think we got?" Lexa'd whispered while yanking Clarke's shirt clear from her jeans. "Fifteen minutes?"

Clarke shook her head at the hopefulness and tossed her leg over her wife's hips to straddle her. "Ten, tops, so long as the sangria holds out. Maybe five if someone starts crying."

Shoving the button through the hole and ripping down the zipper, Lexa gave Clarke a wicked grin.

"I can work with that."

"You're— ahh," Clarke cut off in a breathy gasp when Lexa raked her nails along the swell of her hipbone and slipped beneath the waist of her jeans. "You're very sure of yourself."

Dragging her fingertip along the damp strip of underwear, Lexa twitched them aside and hummed at the slick already waiting for her.

"Yes, I am."

She leaned up for another kiss, luxuriating in the tickle of dark curls as she traced the length of her wife's slit. A few passes left her fingers soaked in arousal, so thick she could almost taste it in the way it clung to her skin. She took her time smearing it around, making sure Clarke was completely ready despite the proper build up, coaxing strings up just to teasingly rub feather light circles over the clit that peeked out from its hood.

Pulling back from the kiss, she caught the darkened blue eyes and held then, soaking in the way they fluttered as she dipped down and pushed in with two fingers.

The wet heat that enveloped her was like an electric shock to her system. Every clench around her fingers made Lexa pulse in sympathy, so turned on she could barely focus on starting up a steady rhythm. It made Lexa realize just how much they had been letting this slide between them recently - neglecting this aching want that had always so powerful between them.

She had missed this feeling in the chaos of being moms. This connection and vulnerability that came from holding Clarke close while seated deep inside.

But as much as she'd have loved to lay her wife down and take her time with her, to fuck and cuddle and worship the way she'd been aching to for days, a muffled laugh from downstairs reminded her that they were indeed on a time crunch.

Shifting her wrist and shoving her thumb forward, Lexa swallowed her wifes gasp when she bumped the senstive underside of the bud. She pumped her fingers as deep the position would let her and found that deliciously spongy patch of skin that never failed to set her wife off like a rocket.

"Oh f— God, Lex," Clarke whined through clenched teeth, bucking into her palm and nearly crawling out of her skin when it rubbed Lexa's thumb firmer against her clit.

"I know, love, I know," she breathed against the fumbled slide of Clarke's kisses, ignoring the burn as her wife dripped down her wrist. "You feel so fucking good. Hold on a few more minutes. Just let me feel you a few more minutes, love, and then you can let go whenever you want to, I promise."

Lexa gave herself over to it, barely breathing as Clarke rocked against her with languid ruts of her hips as she curled her fingers against her front wall. Over, and over, and over. She threaded her fingers through blonde hair and pulled just the way Clarke liked it. Giving the illusion of her control - a hungered look of love and lust - as Lexa held her gaze and ruthlessly fucked her.

And she honestly didn't care about time or their friends or the party they'd spent two weeks planning when the liquid fire around her fingers pulsed and began to tighten.

Clarke gave a pitiful whimper. Bit her lip with a whined, "Please, baby, I want—," and that was all Lexa needed to give in. To nod for her to let go and trust her to catch her when she falls. To cup the back of her neck and pull her close, pressing her wife's mouth to the dip of her shoulder and bury her moans there, as Clarke clenched and spilled in a hot rush around her fingers.

Lexa let her ride out the waves of her orgasm. Guided her down with softened rolls of her thumb. She kissed everything within, peppered her lips along cheek and neck and temple, until her wife collapsed sated and thoroughly pliant in her arms.

In the quietening of their nesting, Lexa stretched her neck just far enough to look at the clock on her nightstand.

"Seven minutes. Three minutes to spare. Suck it."

"Fine," Clarke huffed against the collar of Lexa's shirt where she'd burrowed in to enjoy the afterglow. "So. Not out of practice then... Definitely not... out of practice."

Lexa laughed at her slurred white flag of defeat, but still felt the need to clarify, "Making you come, or making you come quickly?"

"Either. Both. I don't care, I can't feel my legs."

"That good, huh?"

"Don't gloat."

"I'm not gloating," Lexa insisted even as she preened a little inside. "Making you feel good is just second nature at this point. I know how to take care of you, love. Quick or slow... It's like riding a bike."

A finger roughly poked her in the ribs.

"Pfft, a romantic. Stop flirting with me, Woods."

Lexa grazed her thumb over the sensitive tip still within reach and grinned when her wafe gave a full body shudder.

"I don't think I will, actually."

Clarke sucked in a steadying breath and nipped a bite to Lexa's jaw. "You just wait until after bedtime. I'm going to make you regret that, sweetchee—"

The bang of metal against frame cut off the last of Clarke's words as the room suddenly exploded with a garbled,

"Oh sonofabitch."

Lexa felt all the heat disappear off of her in an instant at the spat out swear from above them as Clarke flung herself to the side... and took Lexa's wrist right along with her.

Her hiss and wince of pain as they both struggled to free her from the unyielding shackle of Clarke's jeans did nothing to drown out the enraged sounds coming from the moment-killer stood in their doorway.

"Am I in a goddamn time loop? Why does this keep happening to me?!"

Clarke groaned as she finally yanked Lexa's hand free and flopped angrily onto her back. "Maybe because you still haven't learned to knock before barging into people's bedrooms."

"Oh! Oh! Excuuuuse me," Raven whisper-shouted. "You guys only have a house full of your closest friends and their toddlers downstairs, why didn't I assume you two perverts were in here fucking."

"Shhh," Lexa immediately hissed as she rubbed at the throbbing joints in her wrist despite Raven having mouthed the swear rather than saying it out loud. "We just wanted to take a moment alone, alright? We never get actual time to ourselves, and we figured the kids would be fine with everybody—"

Raven shook her head and held a hand up. "Elgh, stop. Look at yourselves. You abandoned your children to come up here and get your jolly ranchers off."

"I... I think it's just 'get your jollies'..."

"Ah, well, thank you for your contribution, Ms. English Major." Raven grabbed the handle of the door and yanked backward out of the threshold, leaving only a slit big enough for her head to poke through. "Now will you two whores put yourselves back together, please. Some of us are waiting on birthday cake."

With a scathing look and final grunt of disgust, Raven snapped the door shut in her wake.

In the quiet that followed, Lexa let her head slump to the side, catching her wife's gaze as she smiled.

"That was embarrassing."

"Eh." Clarke flopped her hand above her belly. "She's seen us in worse positions."

"True. She's only mad about the cake anyway."

"Yeah, but she'll still never shut about this."

Lexa lifted the hand that had previously been shoved down her wife's pants and offered it up with a toothy grin. "Worth it."

Still flushed and beautifully relaxed from her orgasm, Clarke eyed her for a moment just to make sure she was serious, before laughing and slapping it in a high-five.

"Totally worth it."

[jihyocentric]

hi lumi. hope ur well! may i request alphas gp sanayeon and omega jihyo where they all come back from a date night and just ravish jihyo bc they thought she looked way too good and that everyone wanted her. just plain jealousy troupe with a praise and breeding kink <3

hi anonie! so, just for reference, for this i had in mind jihyo with the same clothes of her latest concept photo.

-

it was usually jihyo who stood in that position — watching over sana and nayeon, holding back not to lose her patience with the multiple girls who insisted to throw themselves on them. it happened more often than jihyo would like, and she'd be constantly frustrated due to the people who seemed to ignore her scent on them, blatantly disregarding the mark of another omega.

they were attractive alphas after all, the kind who attracted not only omegas but people from all ranks, and if jihyo didn’t scent them every day and left her own visible warning that they were hers on their necks, other omegas would certainly think they were available. if they already did when she clearly asserted that they were hers, jihyo couldn’t begin to imagine how it would be if she didn’t.

oddly enough, no girls seemed to be looking nayeon and sana’s way that night. with the way nayeon and sana were growing angrier each minute, jihyo guessed she’d have to worry about what they would do to her rather than losing her alphas to another omega, really.

it was clear that she’d stolen people’s attention. jihyo knew exactly why, but she couldn’t have imagined that she’d be changing so early into her pregnancy, so drastically that a faint taste of her scent would make even an omega turn their eyes to her, and nayeon and sana weren’t the best at dealing with their jealousy.

“it’s only been a month and they’re already like that,” sana huffs, fist clenching around her glass of wine.

“they’re staring!” nayeon grunts and sana makes a sound to show that she agreed, vehemently so, engaging with nayeon’s complaints. “people have lost their respect, and…”

nayeon continues and sana listens, adding her own comments to support nayeon’s opinion, the both them talking as if jihyo wasn’t there, though she was the subject of their discussion.

it takes nayeon and sana no more than another alpha checking jihyo out for them to decide they’d had enough.

it didn’t matter that they were out to enjoy a date, have a nice dinner and celebrate the news. jihyo had gotten pregnant of their first baby and they were happy, genuinely so, but they were fed up with the people ogling their wife. deep down, jihyo found them cute that way, protective and possessive, even if that meant their date was coming to an end too soon.

“that’s it, we’re going home.” sana states, getting up from her seat and doing her very best not to snap and throw her hands against the table forcefully, the way her inner alpha told her to.

leaving the restaurant is fast — nayeon holds jihyo’s wrist and drags her along, not as gentle as she usually was, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

she’d been blaming other people for staring at jihyo all night long, but that was also jihyo’s fault for dressing that way, especially when she was pregnant and smelled sweeter than usual, overflowing with hormones. jihyo could have at least avoided revealing clothes, if anything.

“is this what you wanted?” nayeon suddenly snaps, pulling jihyo closer by her waist once they stop next to her car.

nayeon’s back hits the door of the car. she traps jihyo in her arms, and sana’s front meet jihyo’s back, leaving the omega no space to run. not that jihyo considered trying to get away from them, always pleased to be cornered by her alphas, no matter what they intended to do with her.

“of course not,” jihyo replies, defensively, breathing heavier when sana pushes her against nayeon, making her have to grip nayeon’s shoulders, almost losing her balance.

it was dark enough at the parking lot for jihyo not to feel embarrassed being such a position with them in public. she feels nayeon’s bulge against her thigh and sana’s against her lower back, wondering since when they’ve been that hard.

“is that so?” nayeon huffs. she refrains from making any further comments, knowing she’d sound silly saying that jihyo was too pretty to go out with them, because there was nothing jihyo could do about it. it makes her even more irritated.

jihyo’s eyes widen feeling sana’s hands on her hips, thumbs dangerously playing with her skirt, wanting to let jihyo know that, if she so wanted, that piece of clothing could be easily taken off — their hard ons against her body make jihyo helplessly aware that if she said or did anything wrong, they wouldn’t hesitate to do such thing.

 “our princess wouldn’t do that on purpose,” sana mutters, leaving a faint kiss on jihyo’s bare shoulder. “it’s all their fault. right, ji? not yours. never yours.”

nayeon waits for an answer, expecting jihyo to agree, wanting to know from jihyo if she should punish her or claim her — or both.

but jihyo wasn’t talking back, and the entire night all she’d done was looking at them, them only. she had no intention to provoke jealousy out of them, but if she didn’t really mean it, then nayeon can’t fathom why she’d pick such clothes to go out with them. with part of her still flat tummy and cleavage exposed, jihyo looked sexy, agonizingly so, and all nayeon wanted was to cover her up with a long coat.

because of that, the entire night she’d been hard, uncomfortable, wanting to knot her omega, perhaps doing it in front of every person that had dared to check jihyo out when they were aware that the omega was carrying a baby. her baby. there was no possible way they couldn’t tell, even if jihyo wasn’t yet showing. not when jihyo smelled like that. it was almost as if everybody had decided to challenge her that night.

“no, i-i didn’t mean to…” jihyo stops mid-sentence, gasping at a sudden thrust of sana’s hips against hers. “n-not here, alpha!”

“not here.” sana hums, agreeing, a little impatient. “we wouldn’t want anyone to see how pretty you are when you’re filled with our cocks.”

jihyo hardly makes it to their room dressed. nayeon’s unkind hands finish sana’s work of taking her clothes off, the lacy lingerie becoming nothing but destroyed fabric on the ground, and by the time her back is against the mattress, nayeon and sana are just as bare, with their cocks standing proudly.

nayeon’s is against her own tummy, leaking with precum at the tip, and sana’s looks more than ready to stuff jihyo up.

there’s a difference between her alphas. jihyo is quite familiar with it — nayeon is not, by all means, as patient as sana, always wanting to speed things up. she pouts when sana places a kiss on jihyo’s lips and moves lower, knowing sana would take her time between the omega’s legs, and not much was left for her to do but to watch.

but nayeon was a fan of watching, especially when sana got their omega writhing and whimpering, clawing at the sheets, letting out the prettiest moans just for them, because of them, at their mercy.

“so pretty,” sana praises, kissing down jihyo’s thigh, and nayeon settles next to jihyo, close enough she could kiss her neck and whisper sweet nothings on her ear while sana worked a devoted tongue on jihyo’s dripping center. “pretty and all ours.”

nayeon nods, as if silently letting jihyo know she agreed with sana, almost growling as she remembers how others were looking at her.

“our omega to breed.” nayeon adds, a hand moving possessively to jihyo’s tummy, still jealous. “our omega to look at.”

jihyo whines, sana’s tongue on her center making her legs close around her head, barely managing to give them an answer. although they hadn’t asked, jihyo knew that they needed to hear it from her, and only then her alphas would be satisfied.

“i’m y-yours,” jihyo cries, already sensitive by the time sana puts more effort into eating her out, too easy to be toyed with.

they needed to hear it every day — nayeon and sana had to listen those words from jihyo regularly, sometimes even making her chant it as she comes, making sure jihyo wouldn’t forget that she is, in fact, theirs.

hearing jihyo’s soft cries makes sana eager, losing her patience entirely too quickly after being told jihyo was hers, flat tongue becoming heavier against jihyo’s clit, and nayeon can’t help but kiss and touch jihyo everywhere she can.

“this might hurt, princess.” nayeon warns softly, pulling jihyo’s hair away from her neck. the sight of jihyo’s bare neck makes her lick her lips. it hadn’t been too long since jihyo was last marked, and though she still smelled like nayeon and sana, their scent was faint enough to give nayeon an excuse to mark her again.

so she does, while sana’s tongue traces over jihyo’s clit expertly, making jihyo’s hips buck against her face, squirming under sana and accidentally baring her neck even more for nayeon. when nayeon’s teeth sink into her neck, jihyo comes suddenly, being held in place by nayeon and sana, who seemed to be already expecting an early release from her.

it’s certainly not as strong as it would’ve been if she had them inside of her, but it’s enough to make tears roll down her cheeks.

“alphas…” jihyo whimpers, calling for sana and nayeon, reduced to a needy omega, a small huff escaping from her lips the moment sana pulls away.

“we’re here.” nayeon mutters softly, letting go of the grip of her teeth on jihyo’s neck. she kisses the warm skin then, right where she’d sunk her teeth, apologetic.

despite jihyo’s clear dissatisfaction, nayeon pulls away from her, kneeling on the bed to reach sana. she does the younger alpha a favor, licking her chin clean from jihyo’s slick, keeping her hand at sana’s nape, and then dives in for a kiss. they’re both amused when jihyo whines, knowing she must be pouting when they seem to forget about her.

nayeon and sana don’t want to keep jihyo waiting, not by any means. if jihyo was needy, then they were even needier, their inner alphas still hurt from enduring people’s stares directed to their omega, desperate to give jihyo a knot.

they couldn’t just yet, as it wasn’t something they could both give jihyo at the same time — at least not often, and deciding who got to do it first could wait until jihyo was filled enough with their cum. there was only one goal nayeon and sana wanted to achieve, really. claiming jihyo as theirs. for that, there was no better way than filling her up again and again.

so nayeon holds jihyo’s thighs, settling between them while sana coos and kisses jihyo’s pout away. nayeon moans before entering jihyo, at the mere sight of the omega’s soaked center, flushed from having sana play with her, the tip of her fingers leaving a mark on jihyo’s thighs with how firm is her grip, sinking into the warmth of her omega greedily.

“mine.” nayeon huffs, assertive with her every move, barely allowing jihyo to get used to her shaft before her hips take off, especially encouraged to give jihyo a harsher treatment by the sound of the omega’s muffled moans against sana’s mouth.

having two alphas had its pros and cons. jihyo couldn’t decide if their combined possessiveness was a good thing — it was, because she felt safe with them, she knew she belonged to them. but when their alphas wanted to prove something to each other, feeling irrationally selfish, it made things harder for jihyo.

but it was their nature, after all. and sana can’t help but growl as nayeon takes jihyo. nayeon takes because she can, because jihyo is rightfully hers, and sana’s, but a part of sana that hasn’t learned how to share feels irritated. jihyo has learned what to do when their inner alpha speak louder, when they silently complain about each other.

so she bares the other side of her neck for sana. sinking her teeth into jihyo’s neck seem to be enough to make sana remember jihyo wasn’t only hers but theirs, just as much as it makes nayeon rut her hips into jihyo harder, rougher, her knot forming at the base of her cock, only to be neglected.

it’s all nayeon wants, really. to bury it deep into jihyo, watch her crying as she struggles to take it.

nayeon doesn’t do that, knowing better than to listen to her lust filled thoughts, but she can almost have a taste of how it would feel. jihyo was already crying just from having her cock inside, moaning as sana licked her bruised neck, making the same face she did once a knot was sheathed inside. a semblance of pain and pleasure altogether, there was nothing better than that.

“gonna fill you up, princess.” nayeon tells her, voice shaky as she makes sheer effort, the skin of her tummy and hips flushed, a consequence of her constant pounding into jihyo.

“unnie…” jihyo moans, waiting patiently for nayeon’s release, almost begging for it already. at least nayeon wasn’t like sana, who had a taste for making her wait for it, at times making jihyo sob and beg for her cum.

“good omega,” sana praises, nose brushing against jihyo’s neck. “not even touching yourself. just being a good omega and letting your alphas take care of you.”

“s-sana!” jihyo cries meekly, feeling the tip of sana’s fingers against her clit, clenching tightly around nayeon.

sana’s fingers and nayeon’s messy pace take her to the edge once again, crying out as she gushed all over nayeon’s cock, hips moving against nayeon’s instinctively when sana doesn’t stop playing with her overstimulated clit.

“fuck!” nayeon whines, pushing herself all the way inside the warm, tight pussy, making sure she was far enough in before she spills. she comes earlier than she should have, but nayeon can’t help it, keeping her hips flush against jihyo’s as she fills her omega with hot seed.

“that was quick.” sana taunts, pulling her fingers away from jihyo’s center. she pushes them past jihyo’s lips, sighing as the omega licks them clean, and nayeon bucks her hips while watching jihyo suck sana’s fingers, almost going for another round despite knowing it was sana’s turn. or perhaps she should replace sana’s fingers with something else.

nayeon huffs, the grip she had on jihyo’s thighs becoming even more possessive. “shut up.”

ignoring nayeon’s pout, sana sits and takes jihyo to her lap, making nayeon pull out.

“did you miss me?” sana asks cheekily, lifting jihyo’s hips just enough so that she would be able to sink in. nayeon helps, guiding sana’s shaft inside the omega, getting between sana’s legs in order to hold jihyo from behind, her soft cock starting to harden again once her hands find jihyo’s chest.

“i always d-do.” jihyo replies.

it feels just right then. when jihyo is filled with their combined cum, having her alphas all over her, the both of them touching her incessantly, never wanting to let go. jihyo can hardly remember the last time they’d done something like that — staying up until dawn, taking turns to fill her up, coating her with love and praise. she can hardly remember anything that is not having them inside of her, really.

sana and nayeon only stop once they’re sure there was nothing else they could do to prevent alphas from getting near jihyo. jihyo would certainly smell like them for the rest of the month, and they couldn’t even get her pregnant as a last resource because she already was. but despite being spent and having nothing but sex filling her mind, jihyo still remembers hearing nayeon telling her they’d give her twins, still pettily wanting to prove herself.

all jihyo remembers before dozing off is sana giving her a knot and nayeon hugging her. she wakes up in the morning to the sound of nayeon and sana’s voices. they were trying to be sneaky, jihyo notices with the way they were whispering, but her alphas couldn’t keep it low when they were together, their giggles too loud for jihyo’s sensitive ears.

“focus!” nayeon whines, feeling sana’s tiny pecks on her shoulder. “did we scent that one?” she asks in a whisper, pointing at another short skirt of jihyo’s folded neatly in their closet.

“yes,” sana answers quietly, arms around nayeon’s waist. “that is the only one missing,” she points at one of jihyo’s favorite dresses, which she used regularly at work. “can’t forget this one.”

jihyo shakes her head and silently sighs, deciding to close her eyes again and let her lovers have their fun.

[usmsgutterson]

We Could Leave The Christmas Lights Up Til January - S.R x reader

I am typing this authors note and feeling like the friend who's like "ITS CHRISTMAS" from the like. middle of the month forward when I'm actually the friend who reminds you how close it is to christmas or the new year bc I don't want to face that knowledge by myself and suffer well with others.

This was written as a through-the-years style fic. It'll have fifteen chapters which will correspond with the og fifteen seasons of criminal minds (I have not watched seasons sixteen or seventeen, please do not judge me lol) and three scenes per chapter, one set in November, one set on or around Christmas, and the last set at some point after it. The reader is also a fiber artist but if stuff relating to that comes up, I will make a note of whichever terms I need to.

Fic type - this is largely fluff!

Warnings - the reader in this has a slightly similar, but also somewhat dramatized version of my family dynamics bc I wrote this whenever the knit projects I was working on frustrated me and when writing the dynamics it just HAPPENED, but then I edited it so that the dynamics wouldn't hit SUPER HARD if I ever reread it. Otherwise, booze is mentioned a bit, and there is swearing present bc I apparently am incapable of writing a fic without dropping an f'bomb.

When you leave the office that night, it's half-past seven on a Friday in November. You and the rest of the team have the weekend off, and while Penelope and the others had gone out for drinks, you'd gotten back from a case in Miami that morning and had said no to the offer when she'd made it.

You had really just wanted to get home, if you were being honest. You told her you couldn't swing it because of plans already made with someone else, but Garcia didn't need to know that those plans were a glass of wine, Loops 'N Threads Classic Cotton and a crochet hook to work up some dishcloths in lieu of anything too expensive for your aunts christmas gift, or that the someone else you had plans with was your DVR so that you could catch up on the five episodes of Prison Break you'd missed because of the way that cases and work had been piling up.

She also didn't need to know that the wine your mother had given you would have a spot, or that after you were caught up with Prison Break you'd probably order and eat your way through an entire pizza from Antonios while watching a documentary about lemon sharks. Your Friday nights were your own, and even though you adored everyone on the team, you would seldom give up your Friday night ritual of doing a craft while watching whichever cable TV you needed to catch up on or whichever one the network of your choice had been running a marathon of, even if giving it up meant giving up dinner, drinks, and laughter amongst yourself and the rest of the team.

So, as you and Spencer are heading out—Spencer had declined Penelopes offer but hadn't specified his reasons as to why—he looks at you with a knowing sort of smile.

"Crocheting and Antonios?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

You nod once, lips pursing just a little while you mentally ready yourself for any oncoming judgement. "Mhm," you nod. "I have a bottle of red I wanna drink, so it'll be a tipsy crocheting night, I think."

"That sounds fun," he says. "Enjoy it."

"What're your plans for the night?" You ask. You've been with the team since six months after Spencer had joined up. You'd joined, under Hotch's wing, at the age of nineteen where Spencer had joined up under Gideons when he was twenty.

He shrugs. "I was thinking about calling my mom, seeing how she's doing," he says. "I try to call her at least once every so often and I do my best to write, but—it's just—"

"Maintaining those kinds of relationships isn't that easy," you nod. "I mean—my parents just live in my hometown so the circumstances are different, but I get it, even if it's to a lesser degree."

You don't really talk to your parents, and they don't really talk to you, and it's been that way since you went to the FBI Academy when you were eighteen. You came to DC after being hired by the BAU and they stayed in Maine, and things have been like that in the five years since you left the state.

"Your mom came around recently, right?"

You nod. "She was in town for a bit, but she came down while we were working on a case so I only got to see her a few times before she was heading back to Maine." She'd come up at the start of October, while you were working a case out of state, and she'd left six days after you'd returned from the case. In that time, you'd seen her at breakfast, lunch and dinner on three separate days. She'd left you the wine as a gift because she hated red and needed to pass it off, but you loved red wine so it was fine.

"Was it a good visit?"

"It was—well—it was fine," you laugh.

"That's the nicest way to put it?"

"Calling it fine is me being stellar," you laugh again. "Being kind, being gratiuitous, even. It was less than fine, but it could've been worse, and other visits of hers have been by miles."

Your relationship with your mother has been somewhat contentious since you were a teen, but she comes down once every few months and unless a case or something better comes up, you usually try to book Christmas off to spend it with your parents and sisters in Maine. This year, a bigger part of you than not is hoping that Christmas is disrupted by a case somewhere completely out of Maines reach, like Nevada or California or even the likes of Alaska, which has got to be some snowy hellstorm in the wintertime, though you can't say.

"You gonna go down for Christmas?" Spencer asks, laughing a little. He knows some of what your relationships with your family are like—knows that you and your mother have a difficult time finding common ground, knows that you and your father don't get along but have found some weird little middleground where you can exist without screaming at each other. He knows that you and your older sister are sort of friendly but only really mildly close, and that you and your other older sister don't talk often and see each other even less than the sparing conversations you have throughout the year—and he always looks at you kind of pitifully when your mother gets brought into the conversation, but there's been less and less pity as the years have passed, more sympathy.

"I don't want to," you laugh. "I really, really hope we get a case in Nevada or somewhere that even my mother wouldn't be able to justify asking me to drive down to Maine from. Like—I'd love it if we got a case in Alaska the day before Christmas Eve, honestly. I know it's not gonna happen, but—Christmas with them, my aunt, and my uncle? No. I can't subject myself to that without a whole lot of booze."

Spencer laughs, shakes his head a little bit. "You'll be fine," he says. "I won't hope that a case comes up at Christmas, but if one does, I'll buy you a victory tea."

"Why?"

"Because I know you love your family—you're hardwired to love them—but you hate Christmas with them, and I don't really like the thought of you being where you don't want to be because of family ties and guilt."

You laugh. "If it gets too dreary, promise you'll answer my call?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods. "Of course, but what if I call you first?"

"I will answer so quick," you laugh again, shrugging. "Seriously. Whether it's you or Hotch, I will take literally any excuse I can get to slip out from whichever room I'm in to the back porch just so I can talk to someone who isn't my aunt for a few minutes."

"Looking forward to that," Spencer says.

You smile, turning away as you do to hide it. It feels like an awesome ending to a mediocre day and you're grateful for that.

-

When your phone rings at five o'clock something along the lines of five weeks later, it's Christmas Eve. You've spent the last couple of hours alternating between cheap screw top rose and a jack and coke, occasionally swapping both options out for a hot chocolate that you spike with kahlua and a splash of baileys, and when your phone rings, the sound of it is a welcome reprieve.

You tuck a mug of boozed up hot cocoa into your right hand, answering the phone with your left as you dismiss yourself out to the back porch, standing amidst snow that's, by that point, a couple days old. A fresh coat is due to fall any day now, but by the time it does you'll probably already be back in DC.

"Hey," you greet. "How's Christmas on your end?"

"It's good," Spencer answers. "How is it on yours?"

"It's amazing."

"You've been drinking?"

"Jack Daniels, cheap rose, and the occasional spiked hot chocolate," you laugh a little. "It's making everyone more tolerable."

"Thats good," Spencer says. "Don't forget to drink water, though. It'll make you less hungover tomorrow morning."

"Yeah," you nod. "I've drank plenty of water—hangover headaches are fuckin' awful, and I don't feel like dealing with that tomorrow morning. A headache on top of dealing with my aunt? I couldn't put myself through that kind of torture."

"How've things been with you and your mom?"

"So far I haven't done anything to piss her off yet, which is surprising," you laugh. "Normally she's leaping down my throat the second I do something like use a tone that she thinks is amiss or defend my dad where she doesn't agree with him. I'll say something stupid and she'll yell at me before midnight though, I'm sure."

"Try to be a little optimistic," Spencer says. "I mean—just—take it easy. Don't do anything too nuts, okay? I know you well enough to know you have Prison Break on one of the DVRs in that house, and I also know that you know your own limits. Don't push yourself past them."

"I won't," you say. You know yourself well enough to know that you're probably lying, but you brought your needles and a skein of yarn so worst case you can just knit and keep your mouth shut, hopefully not miscounting any of your stitches in your drunken state. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I get in around ten on boxing day too, so—coffee?"

"Coffee," Spencer says. "Merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Merry Christmas, Spencer," you respond, hanging up the phone thereafter. You stay outside for another few minutes, drinking your hot chocolate, watching the sky and prolonging the time between then and your next interactions with your relatives.

Eventually, when you go back in, you're met with a sly look from your aunt and a suspicious look in your mothers eyes, while your father and uncle chat about current events and your sisters are busy in a game of Uno.

"You got a boyfriend?" Your aunt asks, her smile cheeky.

You grimace. "No!" You say, beelining for the kitchen and the bottle of Barefoot brand zinfandel. "No—it's—it isn't like that. A friend had planned to call and I didn't say no."

"Oooh, a friend," your mother teases. "That's quite vague, Y/N."

You nod, finishing the last sip of hot chocolate in your mug and rinsing it out, setting it in your favored corner of the kitchen counter and reaching for the wine glass you'd left in that same area.

"Intentionally so," you laugh. "You two are so nosy. I love you both to bits and pieces, but—it's not anything like what you're thinking. The friend is a coworker."

You reach for the bottle of zinfandel and pour an amount that just barely skirts the edge of avoiding being obscene, putting the cap back on and leaving it on the counter along with the rest of the alcoholic companions that will reside on the countertop until at some point tomorrow, when the drinks are switched out from booze and beer to soda and water.

"You two will be an item in five years, I guarantee it," your aunt says. "Seriously. You don't be vague about someone with your family unless there are feelings there, Y/N."

You laugh a little more, taking a sip of your wine and debating rummaging through the fridge to find the brownies that you'd hidden in the back of the fridge for when the drunken cravings kicked in.

"I've been vague with you people about women coworkers," you retort. "I've been vague about mentors who are older than Dad. I'm vague about lots of things."

"You should open up," your uncle says. "Nobody likes a closed off little snowflake who wants to appear mysterious."

"Trust is earned," the older of your two sisters retorts. "You have to trust people to want to open up to them."

"Do you not trust us?" Your mother asks, looking at you with pain in her eyes.

Not like I did when I was a kid, you think. "I do! I just—work life and family life are two separate things to me. If I were as open as you guys want me to be, telling you work stories and funny office anecdotes, you'd all want to hear less about my job."

"Being an FBI agent can't be that hard," your uncle retorts.

"You say that as a man who's never watched someone you love like a sibling get shot at," you retort. "You've never seen someones body missing parts, or seen someone who narrowly evaded a serial killer shaking with grief and with survivors guilt already starting to manifest. I love you all, but not one of you understands what it's like, and I wouldn't wish you did across a thousand lifetimes."

Nobody knows what to say, but the look in your eldest sisters eyes is clear—she's proud.

"Well maybe you should work in a different area," your aunt says.

"I wouldn't trade my job or my coworkers for anything," you respond. "The plus sides make up for the drawbacks tenfold."

Things go a little quiet after that, and you eventually grab the bottle of Zinfandel and retreat back out to the back porch, not caring how cold it is.

You stare at the sky for ages, drinking your way through the entire bottle of zinfandel as you do. You're half asleep when your phone rings again, and you pick it up as you make back inside, figuring the rest of your family had gone to bed as well.

"Hey," Spencer greets. "Just calling to check in again."

"Hi," you respond. "Everyone else has gone to sleep, I think—nobody is in the kitchen or the living room, and if I don't hit the hay I'll be dead on my feet tomorrow morning."

"Do you have any sports drinks around?" Spencer asks. "The elctrolytes in them will help replenish the potassium and the salt that you lose after a lot of drinking. Bouillion soup also serves the same purpose, and water is basically universally known as the one thing you should consistently drink between alcoholic beverages."

"My mother gets a twelve pack of the fruit punch Gatorade, puts it in the fridge and normally will make the drunkest of us chug a bottle before we conk out, so I'm gonna grab one and then chug it and head to bed. Thank you for calling to check in, Spencer. It means a lot."

You head for the fridge and keep to your word, opening it and grabbing one of the gatorades.

"It's no problem," Spencer says. "I've know you—how long now?"

"Four entire years," you laugh, closing the fridge and pressing your forehead against the metal door of the freezer on top of it. "Oh, God. Four years of working at the BAU. That is a surefire way to make me feel old."

"How old do you think you'll feel when you've been working there for a decade?"

"Absolutely, positively, ancient," you say. "Oh my God—thirty three? That is not an age I can picture. Asking me to picture that while I'm drunk feels like such a low blow, Reid."

"How about twenty-eight?"

"I'm starting to think you just like the sound of my voice," you retort, laughing a little as you compose yourself just enough to turn your phone onto speaker and set it on the counter. You lean against the counter and take the screw top off of your gatorade, sighing a little. "Are you asking me if I have a five year plan, Dr. Reid?"

"Yeah," he says. "Yes is the answer to both your statement and your question."

"Well, in five years, I'll be twenty-eight," you start. "I'd like it very much if I were still on the team, and if I am, that means nine years at the BAU. I'm going to get better at knitting and finally stop knitting things for people who don't offer to buy the yarn or otherwise compensate, I think. I make things free for ungrateful people too often. Maybe even adopt a kitten or take in a shelter dog. Fuck—Reid, I can't really even decide what I'm going to do in the next five minutes, let alone the next five years."

You chug the gatorade as you think about it—a bigger apartment would be nice, one that's closer to work would be nicer still. One with a good view of the city, maybe a library or a liquor store within walking distance, if not a Michaels or a Joanns.

You've always been more of a cat person but you have a ridiculously insurmountable softspot for greyhounds and pitbulls, so if you thought you could take in an animal in the coming years, you would have the knowledge and the background to give them a good home.

You'd maybe want to change up your hair color, if the drunken opportunity presented itself. A change in appearance feels like the sort of thing a person finds necessary at the age of twenty four, in the last year before the brain fully develops and stuff starts changing bit by bit.

"I think I'll still be on the team," Spencer says. "I know it. I love what we get to do everyday, Y/N. Helping people? Saving lives? We do good. We're good people."

"What else do you think about the next five years?" You ask, your voice quiet.

"I think I'll still be living in my same apartment, and that I'll still bicker and get into prank wars with Morgan," Spencer says. "I think I'll still play chess against Gideon on the jet home, and I'll still love to learn anything I can. I know for sure I'm still going to be trying to get you to watch Dr. Who with me, though I hope you agree to watch it after five years of attempts at cajoling you to."

You laugh, and the air takes on a somber kind of tone. "Maybe," you say. "Not likely, but maybe, Reid. Look—I'm going to go to bed so that I can just deal with tomorrows probable hangover head on, but thank you for calling me not once, but twice tonight. I really needed some company that wasn't a little bit of an asshole."

"Yeah, of course," Spencer says. "I—well—merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Spencer," is how you bid him adieu, hanging up the phone thereafter. You throw the gatorade bottle into the recycling and head off to the room you'd claimed, turning the tv onto a low volume and falling asleep with The Muppet Christmas Carol beginning to play in the background.

-

"How was everyones Christmas?" Garcia asks, practically buzzing with excitement as she comes out into the bullpen. Spencer is leaning against your desk, the two of you talking about nothing in particular when she comes around, and Garcia looks at you with a happy grin. "How was Maine?"

"It was Maine," you shrug. "Snowed. A lot. In turn, everyone in my family drank. A lot."

"Oh," Garcia shakes her head. "Too many people and too much booze is God awful."

You shrug. "My parents, my sisters, and my aunt and my uncle hardly felt like too many," you say. "And the amount of booze in which I indulged hardly felt like too much."

"You had a lot," Spencer retorts, looking at you skeptically. "I got a text Christmas morning, if memory serves—"

"A text to thank you for being so nice," You fire back, cutting him off. "Totally not asking you for hangover cures. I would never."

Spencer shakes his head, laughing slightly. You grin, taking a sip of the tea he'd brought you that morning.

"Yeah," he says. "I didn't get a text asking for the ultimate hangover cure-all. I guess I must've remembered it wrong."

Your grin widens, and you nod. "Guess so. How were things with your Mom?"

"They were great," Spencer says. "I had a good time."

"I'm glad," you respond. "Your mother sounds pleasant."

"She is," Spencer nods. "I'd hate to spend more than an hour with yours though."

"She's comin' here in June," you fire back, leaning back in your chair as your grin morphs from grin to smirk. "Be careful for the next six months, Reid, or I'll invite you to dinner with her, myself, and my father."

"That sounds like some form of mideval torture," Derek fires, laughing. Spencer shakes his head.

"Not if Y/Ns there," he murmurs. You take another sip of your tea to avoid seeming flustered to the rest of the team, and Spencer sighs when JJ comes around. You sit up in your chair, already anticipating her next words.

"We have a case," she says. "A series of deaths in Witchita. Briefing room in ten!"

You and Spencer exchange a look. There are only a few days left of it, but it looks like the last of 2005 is due to be a whirlwind.

[mythrae]

On the Lowest

Summary: Sworn to secrecy, you and Gale relieve a bit of stress during a midnight tryst. (aka Gale Dekarios fucks)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors do NOT interact), smut without plot

Author's Notes:

Thank u all for voting in my tumblr poll I hope this is to your liking

Tav is described as having female genitalia

This might be a little OOC for Gale but I definitely see him as a switch kind of guy, he's just a little more of a top in this bc ya girl is a bottom

I haven't written smut in a LONG time and this isn't beta'd so please be kind

Click here to read on AO3 :)

Usually, you never mixed your business with pleasure.

It was a dangerous game, one you knew all too well. You found yourself often thinking with what’s between your legs rather than between your ears, and in an environment where you’re working closely with others, it can lead to many awkward situations with your companions. So awkward, in fact, you feared that someone could potentially leave your party over it.

But there was something about the Wizard of Waterdeep that made you want to risk it all.

You had taking a liking to Gale ever since he joined your party. Kind, intelligent, powerful, he was a formidable ally, and a good companion to keep around.

But he first intrigued you in that way while fighting through the Shadow Cursed lands, after a particularly tough battle. Gale had made a comment to you about how he read that a brush with danger may have an effect on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.

He understood when you told him that you weren’t looking for a long-term partner, especially with the dubious task of removing the tadpole in the forefront of your mind. But, as long as the two of you kept it a secret, you supposed there was nothing wrong with having a little fun and releasing some of your stress.

***

While the rest of the camp slept soundly at the Last Light Inn, you you found yourself tip toeing out into the night. Placing the pixies bell in your pocket, just in case, you walked on the outskirts of the safe haven, until you found the make-shift bridge made from rocks. You leaped across, being cautious to not slip and fall into the rushing water below. 

As you entered the Shadow Cursed lands, you cautiously made your way up the stairs, hand on your weapon just in case. You approached the abandoned house, the perfect size for 

“Hello?” You called out, hoping and praying no one else was there.

You approach the bedroom, pulling back the heavy curtain that took the place of the door. Gale was already lying on the bed in his camp clothes, a small candle burning on the nightstand next to him.

“Ah, there you are.” He said, sitting up on the mattress and standing to greet you. “I was starting to worry the Shadow Curse had gotten you.”

You reach in your pocket and show off the pixie’s bell as you stand in front of him. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest — it’s been a while since you’ve done anything like this. Would tonight make you feel satiated? Or regretful?

“A wise choice.” He commended as you stuffed it away. “You never know what dastardly creatures could be out here, you know.”

“What, like you?”

“Precisely.”

He wasted absolutely no time, leaning in to press his lips against yours. He kissed you feverishly, like a starving dog lunging for a piece of raw meat. You could taste the fine wine from dinner left on his lips, and you felt yourself slowly getting drunk off him. Your knees grew weak as you feel his hands rest at your hips, your desire slowly starting to build between your legs.

You rested your hands at the nape of his neck, a shaky sigh escaping his mouth as your fingertips trailed down his spine. Hells, you knew the man was touch-starved, but you didn’t realize how badly…

You nibbled at his lower lip, enticing a soft moan from the wizard, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. He pulls you closer to him, and you can feel his arousal straining through his trousers, begging to be freed.

He broke the kiss, panting heavily. “Lie back.”

You followed his command, falling back on the soft mattress as you gazed upon his face in the candlelight. 

Dare you say, he looked very handsome kneeling in between your legs.

His fingers made light work of your trousers, untying the laces and pulling them off swiftly to reveal your underclothes. He placed a soft kiss on the thin fabric, playfully nudging at your clit with his nose, sending a dull wave of pleasure rolling through your body. You heard him breathe in deeply, taking you for a bit of a surprise as you propped up on your elbows to watch him.

“Getting a whiff of my natural musk, are you?” 

Gale let out a light chuckle, tugging off your underwear with his teeth to expose your fragrant heat to him. “Darling, there’s nothing I need more.”

Lifting your legs to rest on top of his shoulders, his mouth is on you in an instant. He couldn’t wait another moment, he had to taste you now.

You feel his wet tongue delving between your folds, lapping hungrily at your essence. Your fingers snake through his locks and grip tightly, the coils already tightening in your lower belly. Gods, how long had it been since anyone had touched you like this, let alone tasted you? You weren’t sure, getting lost in the divine sensation of Gale burying his face in you.

Whatever he was doing with his tongue must be enchanted, the way he’s making you feel right now.

Your breath hitched as you sensed two of his fingers toying at your entrance, his brown eyes looking to yours for permission. You nodded, biting your lip, as he gently pushed them inside you. A moan slipped from your lips, enticing him to move his fingers faster, more rapidly, as your eyes rolled back in your head.

Gods, this is too fucking good, you thought, tightening your grip in his hair and almost pulling Gale out from between your legs.

But the wizard was much stronger, the fingers of his free hand wrapped around your hip and keeping you in place. His ministrations continued as you felt him suckle at your clit, your hips bucking his face in response.

“Gale…” you moan softly, afraid that even though you were out of earshot, the others would still hear you.

His mouth moved away from your folds, “Yes, dear? What is it?”

The ache in between your legs intensified. His two fingers thrusting inside your sex weren’t enough to satisfy you. 

No, you needed all of him.

“I need you. Inside me.” You stammered, embarrassed to beg for him out loud.

“Ah ah, use your words,” he demanded, his fingers slipping out of you. “Tell me, what do you want?”

“You…your cock.” You confessed, bashfully.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing your sex one final time. “Eager, aren’t we?”

His hands move to both your thighs, lifting them from his shoulders and pushing them back onto your chest. He stood over you, quickly stripping himself of his camp clothes. You watched him intently, your eyes gazing upon his form. He was lean, but fit, almost as if you were looking at the body of a God. With the sigil in his chest glowing bright, it would be easy to mistake him for one.

As you watched him slip off his trousers, you were a little shocked at how... well endowed Gale was. You had a feeling he would be, but to see it with your own two eyes was quite the treat.

He held on to the base of his cock, stroking it as he lined himself up to your slick entrance. He looked to you, searching for your consent to sink himself in you.

You don't hesitate, nodding quickly, nearly pleading with him to fuck you already.

His slowly slides himself in your wetness, both of you letting out a delighted sigh as the two of you became one. His hands grabbed your hips, digging into the flesh as he sheathes himself in you. He didn't break his gaze with you for a single moment, his eyes growing darker the deeper he went.

"Don't be gentle," you whisper as he fills you entirely for the first time.

He lets out a groan, his breath hot with desire.

You hear him mutter something under his breath, but before you can make out what he said, he leans down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before he thrusts himself back out, only to snap his hips into yours with full force.

Nine Hells, he's like an animal.

You cry out as he pounds you relentlessly, skin slapping on your sensitive nub over and over again. The same magic that enchanted his mouth and fingers must have been at work again, the way he nearly had you at your climax so quickly. He knew it too, a small smile forming at his open lips as he reached for a clothed breast, wrinkling your shirt even further as he kneads it in his hand.

Your eyes closed tight as you turned your head away, the pleasure taking you to a different realm entirely. Sweat rolled down his brow as he continued to rock into you, his hands moved to cradle your face and spinning it back to face him.

"Look at me," he ordered, "I want to see you fall apart."

You locked eyes with him as the coils in your lower belly continued to tighten, your body beginning to shake as the hot white feeling welled up, begging to explode. He kept on hitting that sweet spot deep within you, over and over again...

You took his thumb in your teeth as he rubbed it against your lips, sucking on the digit as your eyes still focused on him. You felt his hips began to stutter, he was close to his own release. Your teeth scraped against the pad of his thumb, inciting a gasp from his lips as he bucked in response.

Oh, hells, you were done for.

You felt your walls quiver around him as you finally gave in to your climax, hot waves of pleasure coursing through your body as your vision went blurry. Gale's thumb slipped out of your mouth as he felt you around him, pulling himself out of you as you felt his hot seed pooling on your lower stomach.

The two of you panted loudly as you came down from your conjoined release, holding each other's gaze. His eyes were no longer darkened by lust, but looked rather... warm. As if he was looking upon a long lost lover.

The thought made your cheeks flush for a moment, but you quickly shook the feeling away. You didn't have time for romance, for relationships, not with the fear of ceremorphosis at the front of your mind. Removing the mind flayer tadpole was your only priority.

And yet... the thought of Gale holding you close at night didn't seem like the worst possible outcome.

"Are you all right, dear?" He asked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"I'm fine," you replied, leaning your head in the palm of his hand. "That was... wonderful."

He smiled, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb reverently.

"But don't forget, this stays between us, all right? Keep it on the down low."

"On the lowest, darling." He smiled, moving his hand to create an X over the orb in his chest. "You have my word."

***

“Thou hast now a bosom companion.” The voice of Withers wakes you from your slumber with a jolt. “Take care that thou art not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.”

A moment passes between the two of you. You’re wondering as to why Withers was standing right above your tent, let alone why he would seek you out in the first place.

Then, the words of his message become clear in your mind.

“… excuse me?” You ask, bewildered as to how he would know what happened between you and Gale the night before, especially when they weren't even at camp when it happened.

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

Without another cryptic word, Withers turns and stalks away, leaving you alone to your very confused thoughts. There was only one response you could give to him:

“… okay, Bone Man.”

[thenightfolknetwork]

There's a bit of a taboo amongst my genus. I mean, I can't know for sure about the whole population, but certainly in my family there are rules about what is and isn't appropriate to do when we exercise temporal fluidity. And that's for good reason--I get that. You can't just go about changing the tides of war because you feel like showing off your historical foreknowledge. Fine.

Recently, though, I've been spending a lot of my time in one particular period--just about a half-decade on the other side of 0 AD. It's been great! I'm a bit of a Classicist, and a Latinist at that, so obviously there's plenty for me to do in Rome. The food is good, the literature is fascinating, and the people--well, I've certainly met some people. Specifically, there's this one guy. He's older, for sure, but we're both adults and happy with what we have. It's hardly an exclusive relationship, so we don't get bored with stagnation, and not to brag, but his achievements are nothing to scoff at. In fact, not too long ago he put down the remnants of a veritable civil war over in Hispania. My interest in this period has been primarily academic in the past, but I feel like he and I really get each other. I know how he takes his wine and his sense of humor and how he feels about his family. I care about him.

But here's the thing: I know he dies. Soon. And quite violently. I've just gotten back to the twenty-first century recently for a family reunion, so of course "soon" is relative, but back in Rome there isn't much time left. I haven't spoken about this to my family. I know what they'd say. I should just let it happen.

Although, I mean, should I really? Not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but I know for a fact Great-Grandma Margaret wasn't as rule-abiding as my mother likes to think--it's hardly a secret where (more accurately, when) she met Great-Nana Bonny. And, plus, lots of historical scholarship on the subject says, if my Roman friend hadn't died when he had, it probably would've happened sooner or later in a similar manner anyway (his approval ratings are not so high as of late). So is it really an interference if I warn him just this once? I mean, if he dies in another incident somewhere down the line--one of which I have no previous knowledge--then, fine, he dies. This isn't about preventing his death entirely. I understand that, in many ways, he is already dead. But I feel I would be a horrible companion if I didn't at least give him a heads-up. Just a nudge, you know? It's a politically unstable time back in the BC's. The line between this temporal reality and the other is so thin, and the difference is so small. Would my "interference" be so bad?

[Note: The sender later clarified that their letter ought to read "half century on the other side of 0 AD" where it here reads "half decade".]

I'm afraid I can't give you the kind of answer you seem to be seeking here, reader. While I am perfectly happy to help you talk through you moral quandaries, I must draw the line at making your decisions for you. You, and you alone, must discern for yourself whether or not such an act aligns with your own personal, moral code.

If an outside perspective will help, I will say that I'm not sure I entirely agree with your assessment of the circumstances here. I believe I have enough historical knowledge to infer which figure in history you're speaking about, which is, in itself, a concern.

It is a fact of existence that we shape the world around us. Even the quietest, most innocuous life casts its shadow. It is a fact to be embraced and celebrated – there is simply no such thing as an insignificant life. But neither is anything served by pretending that certain figures do not cast rather longer shadows than others.

It is one thing to consider fudging a timeline or two for the sake of someone whose impact reaches no further than their own village, or even their own country. It is quite another to speak of altering the timeline of a person whose existence left ripples across the surface of a significant portion of the globe!

I also don't necessarily agree with your assessment that your interference would not change anything very dramatically. Your friend's “approval rating” may not be great, but I am not at all sure it is universally accepted among historians that either his demise nor the manner in which he met his fate were inevitable.

Finally, you must consider the old paradox faced by every time traveller at some stage or another. You are an actor in this historical period, casting a shadow of your own, and you have no more idea than anyone else how that shadow may fall.

How do you know your warning might not precipitate the event itself? Alternatively, how can you be sure your warning is not already part and parcel of our historical reality? There is just such a warning made in most of the accounts I know, after all – if I am thinking of the right person, of course.

I cannot make this decision for you, reader. I cannot tell you what the right answer is, or even reassure you that there is a right answer. All I can do is to encourage you to think carefully about the risks involved, weigh them against your own moral judgement, and make sure that, whatever your choice, it's one you can live with. At the end of the day, that's all any of us can do.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[haechoxo]

9:13 am | rises the moon - liana flores;  heaven knows i’m miserable now - the smiths

jisung’s apartment was very cozy, warm, it was his home. he lived alone now, ever since chenle moved out to a much bigger house for his taste,  and it was very evident in the lack of miscellaneous items you'd normally see in a home filled with love. priceless art pieces laid at every corner of the house, shelves upon shelves of expensive wine, no doubt it was left behind as generous gifts from chenle, renjun, and jaemin, a room dedicated to his work (gaming..) and showcasing his accomplishments, but no love.

bits and pieces of haechan and mark as well as the rest of the group splayed across his walls in cheap metal frames, everyone had made an effort to add their touch at some point to his lonesome town, but to no avail, the emptiness remained. 

his abode was nothing short of comfortable though. he enjoyed the silence, it was his comfort,  and of course, you made sure to give him a change of environment at least once a week with how often you spent your time there. being jisung’s best friend for as long as you were had its perks, a shoulder to cry on, a second home, his company, even despite the sly comments made by haechan that came with being friends, usually along the lines of,

 “miss y/n do you truly love our dearest little brother, or are you using him for his money.” oh the money for sure. of course you loved jisung, as did jeno, and mark, renjun, chenle, haechan, jaemin— the list goes on. 

what difference did jisung even make?

“he’s letting me stay with him for free! free, can you believe that yizhuo? he won’t let me repay him at all.” you gushed over your cup of tea in the cafe to the blonde. the group aside from the five of you hadn’t arrived yet,  so what better way to use your free time than to gush about the resurfacing, key word,  of your little schoolgirl crush, of six years. give or take.

“yes? he’s your best friend, it would be bizarre for him to charge you for anything, especially knowing that having you around would only be as if he got a pet bunny, it wouldn’t make any difference to him.” renjun countered.

you guess it was true, what kind of person would be cruel enough to give a friend a hard time when in need of hospitality, when they’re rich no less.

“well yeah, but — hey! me temporarily living with him may not make a difference to him but it does to me.” you frowned. 

“maybe because you haven’t gotten over your crush yet, hm?” jaemin spoke up from across the table, sipping on his third cup of coffee, but no one mentioned it.

“listen, i am only this close to falling in love with jisung.”

“your fingers are touching, babe.” ningning pointed out.

“oh…yeah.”

previous

a/n; i have zero recollection of writing this part bc its been so long,, the chances of me having to go through this fic once its over and tweak a whole bunch of stuff is likely but im still dreading it 😖