#but also let authors know when you talk (in good ways) about them!

[daycourtofficial]

You two are dancing in a snow globe round and round

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 8.2k | warnings: needles/requiring stitches

Summary: four times a trope fails to bring you and Azriel together, one time it prevails. This is my submission for @sjmromanceweek day 5: favorite tropes (and yes these are all elite tropes, argue with the wall 😤)

Author’s note: this is for my You Are in Love by Taylor Swift girlies. Also on the fence about the ending but ya know it felt right and @ninthcircleofprythian loved it so her opinion is the correct one

Fake dating

The streets of Velaris are quiet. A sleepy morning after the holiday excitement of Starfall has died down. A week past it and the fae are still holed up in their homes, only going out when necessary. The cobblestone streets are mostly empty, you, Nyx, and Azriel passing the occasional fae as they move in the opposite direction. They would nod or wave at the three of you, but never linger to talk, eager to get on their way. 

A light tugging on your scarf brings you out of your daze. Looking down to find Nyx’s blue eyes looking up at you, his tiny hands pulling on your scarf. “Az, can you help undo my scarf?”

The two of you stop, moving over to the side of the street to avoid being in anyone’s way. Azriel’s scarred fingers reach out, unwrapping the scarf from your neck, and rewrapping it to include Nyx. The babe has been doing this all week to anyone wearing a scarf - tugging incessantly until he was also tucked into the scarf. If he was after the scent or the warmth, nobody knew. Cassian had even bought him a scarf, a little thin knitted piece of black wool, thinking the boy would be delighted. Nyx cried and pulled on the scarf when Cassian wrapped it around his neck before spitting up on it. 

The princeling is still holding a slight grudge against Cassian, in turn causing the general to try desperately to get Nyx’s affections back - holding him constantly, playing with him, trying to slip him some sweet treats. Cassian’s antics have led the three of you here, walking the streets of town instead of being in the River House. 

You usually watched Nyx in the afternoons and after a week of Cassian’s antics you had quickly grown tired of his need to get back in the heir’s good graces. As soon as Azriel returned from training and bathed, you had rushed the two of them out of the house with you before Cassian could come looking for Nyx.

Nyx settles in your arms, enjoying the comfort the scarf brings him. His head rests against your shoulder, the slightest bit of drool permeating your jacket. You sigh, cursing yourself for wearing your favorite coat when you know just how messy Nyx is.

“He’s quite fond of you,” Azriel’s deep voice is laced with affection. You look down at Nyx, finding it difficult not to coo over how cute he looks snuggled up to you.

“He better be - I spend more time with him than anyone save for Rhys and Feyre. Hopefully he remembers that when I begin my plans to take over the world.”

Nyx’s little giggle comes from underneath the scarf, immediately bringing a smile to your face. One of Azriel’s hands lingers around the small of your back, gently helping guide you down the near empty street. 

“When you take over, will you spare me? I hear a shadowsinger could be very useful in world domination.” He leans into your ear, his voice soft as to not disturb the silence of the road.

You start moving down the street again, Azriel just a half step behind you. His left wing was open around your back, offering protection to you and the princeling. You wanted to sink into it, let his wing envelop you fully.

“You'll have to submit an application, I already have quite a few offers.”

“I’d expect nothing less, but I am hoping some favoritism can move my application forward.”

“Mm, does favoritism come with perks?”

“I’ll buy your lunch and any pretty things you find on the way back to the house.”

“Oh, I like your methods of persuasion, shadowsinger.”

The two of you walk into the bakery, Azriel holding the door open for you and Nyx to walk through first.

“I’m just saying, but if Cassian really expects to keep disrupting my plans with Nyx, the least he could do is make me a smoothie.”

Nyx babbles in your arms, and you look into his violet eyes, the same color as Rhys’s, but they held the same twinkle to them as Feyre’s eyes, “yes, that’s right. I’m right.”

You all get in line, five fae in line ahead of you. Azriel unwraps the scarf from around Nyx, the warmth of the bakery causing him to want to be out of the confines of the fabric.

“But if you woke up a little earlier, you could make one yourself without Nyx there to watch over.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You ask, your finger tickling Nyx’s side to get him to giggle with you.

Azriel rolls his eyes at your obvious tactics to get the toddler to agree with you, but he can’t help the soft smile he has as Nyx giggles at your poking and flaps his tiny wings.

The older female in front of the two of you turns and gasps at Nyx, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.

“Well, if this isn’t the cutest babe in all of Prythian.” Her face lights up as Nyx flaps his wings harder at the attention he’s getting, hiding his face in your shoulder, hiding his big grin.

“He’s just darling, you two must be thrilled to have such a sweet babe.”

“Oh we’re not-“ Before you can disagree with her, Nyx has made his own decision.

“Mama!” He calls to you, putting his chubby little hands on your face, squishing your cheeks together. You move one of your hands back towards Azriel’s stomach, stopping him from speaking further, deciding to just roll with it.

You crinkle your eyes, “He’s just darling, isn’t he?”

Nyx gives you a toothless grin, and you shoot him a look he mistakes for pure affection, preening under your withering gaze. It is nearly impossible to stay mad at him, his chubby cheeks the ultimate ‘I can do no wrong’.

“How old is he?” You pale, having a hard time keeping track of Nyx’s age. You dig through your mind, trying to remember when Nyx was born. Azriel answers much quicker than your brain could. “He’s fourteen months old.” The female squeals at Azriel’s words, the shadowsinger slightly wincing.

“Wow, what a great age! My boys were little monsters by then, each of them would love walking around at night, they’d always manage to escape their cribs somehow. I can’t imagine how I’d deal with one of them with wings!” She continues, her eyes lit up talking about her kids when they were young. You find it incredibly sweet, until she continues on and on until it’s her turn to order.

Her back to you both, you turn toward Azriel, widening your eyes slightly and looking at her. He shrugs, a soft “what can you do” coming from him. After she orders, the two of you step up, ordering your sandwiches and something sweet for Nyx. The woman gets her sandwich right after you pay, telling you, “it was nice to speak to you - you and your family are beautiful.”

Nodding and smiling, the two of you find a table and sit, Nyx still in your arms. You lightly kick Azriel’s foot underneath the table. “Thanks for paying.”

He sips his coffee, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t want her to think I was a poor father.”

You laugh, the sound causing Nyx to laugh too. The light hit the pair of you, giving the two of you a sort of glow. If Azriel squinted, he could feel the edges of fantasy grasp hold of the image - you holding a winged babe, laughing at something he had said. He wished he had some way to capture this moment, knowing he would return to it over and over in his mind when he couldn’t sleep. He smiled, unable to keep your joy from infecting him. 

One bed

“That’s not funny,” Cassian pouts, looking to you for support. You shrug, taking a sip of your wine to avoid speaking, opting to look towards the portraits on the wall rather than meet his gaze.

“You’re right - it’s hilarious,” Feyre responds, looking at her mate, seeing the comparison. “The last female you hooked up with looked just like Rhys.”

“She did not!” Cassian bellows, slamming his hand on the table. All of you howl in laughter, the revelation of Cassian’s recent hook up bearing quite the resemblance to his brother an endless source of amusement.

Cassian, Mor, Feyre, Rhys, Azriel, and yourself were all nestled into the dining room of the townhouse. The fae light in the room produces an incandescence that provides a stark contrast to the brutal snow storm outside.

You’re all trapped here, none of you brave enough to step far enough outside of the wards to winnow away. The six of you piled into the townhouse earlier in the evening, where you lovingly made a three course meal. It was a monthly tradition - you liked getting everyone together, you loved cooking for your friends, and they loved eating your food. It was a win all around. 

Dinner was just starting to be served when the snowfall took a turn for the worst, coming down in massive heaps of white. 

“Good thing we have a feast right here - I was starting to eye Azriel’s legs.”

Mor rolls her eyes at Cassian, “you were eyeing his legs because you can’t keep your eyes to yourself.”

Cassian smirks at her, a charming grin many females have fallen victim to. “You’re just upset it wasn’t your legs I was looking at.”

“Can we stop discussing my legs?” Azriel grumbles, passing the bowl of mixed vegetables to you. You nod in thanks, scooping a serving for yourself. “At least they’re being kind to you - last week Cassian was making fun of my arms.”

You pout your lip dramatically, but Azriel ignores it, his scowl still on his brother. “I wouldn’t call being the first to be eaten a kindness.”

“It’s not my fault you have short arms. How do you reach anything?” Cassian’s mouth was somehow already full of food, despite one of the platters just making its way to him.

“I believe she reaches things by scaling countertops and climbing shelves,” Rhys adds, plating himself some dumplings before serving some to Feyre’s plate.

“Hey! We were not talking about me, we were discussing Azriel’s delicious thighs!”

“He didn’t specify thigh.” Rhys points out, his fork pointing toward you.

“Oh, but I meant his thighs.” Cassian chimes in, his arm outstretched for another serving of potatoes.

“I’d start with his arms - he has a lot of meat on his bicep.” Mor doesn’t look up from her plate as she states it so casually.

“This conversation has taken a turn for the worse,” Azriel mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose in his fingers. You rub his arm soothingly, and he softens a bit at the feel of your touch.

Until you start squeezing the muscle beneath your hand. He immediately glances at you from the side of his eye, a stony and cold look.

“Flex for me, please.”

“I will not indulge this!” He starts trying to pull his arm away, but your fingers are surprisingly strong.

“Hmmm,” you hum, your hands still wrapped around his bicep, squeezing as you contemplate. “They’re a decent contender, but my vote is the thigh.”

“Not you too!”

You squeeze his arm lightly, “I’m sorry, this is a worst case scenario! I promise I’ll only eat you if you were already dead from like a freak accident.”

“What are our thoughts on someone being run through with my sword as a freak accident?” Cassian muses, licking his fingers dramatically. Azriel scowls at him as everyone around the table giggles.

Azriel turns back to you, “you only picked my legs because you wouldn’t be able to reach my arms.”

You drop your hands from his bicep, mock exasperation on your face. “How dare you! I was complimenting you. Being able to feed a family from your lifeless body is a compliment!”

“I can think of many families more deserving of my meat than you lot.”

He huffs, rotating his body to look at his brother before adding, “don’t you dare, Cassian.” 

Cassian scoffs at the finger pointed in his direction. “You’re the one who said you can feed a village with your cock.”

“That is not what I said! And it was a family, not a village.”

“Whatever.”

The two keep bickering until Cassian throws a green bean at Azriel, who quickly moves his head. A shadow comes and quickly pushes the leftover food on Cassian’s plate into his lap in retaliation.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Rhys looks equal parts amused and equal parts annoyed, likely at the mess that was made of his chair lining. He looks towards the window, the snow coming down even heavier than before. He sighs.

“I’m assuming we’ll all be staying here tonight?”

Everyone nods, no one wanting to brave the cold, wet snow. Not even Cassian or Azriel volunteer to leave, their bodies tailor made for this kind of weather.

“Right,” he nods, looking at Feyre. “Feyre and I will stay in the big room. You two,” he points to you and Azriel, “can stay in the room with the mirrors. You two,” now pointing to Cassian and Mor, “can stay in the room with some of Feyre’s paintings.”

Your heart picks up, its beat erratic and echoing through your ears. This would hardly be the first time you and Azriel shared a bed, but each time turned you into a bundle of nerves. You spent the entire night doubting each movement you made, uncertain if you were making Azriel uncomfortable until your brain eventually shut down, allowing for sleep to overtake you. 

Every time your worry was for nothing - each night full of nerves brought forth a morning of tangled limbs and warm cuddling. Waking up in his arms did nothing but cause your feelings for Azriel to soar, spending several extra minutes in bed pretending to be asleep, trying to imprint the feel of his arm around your waist to memory.

“No,” Cassian bellows, “she has that painting of Bryaxis in there. Creeps me out. I won’t be able to sleep.”

Rhys breathes through his nose, uncertain when becoming High Lord meant delegating his friend’s fears. “Put it in the closet.”

“I’ll know it’s there.”

“Fine, we’ll take the painting out of there.”

“Maybe Cassian will be who we eat if a simple painting puts him on edge this much.” You whisper conspiratorially, Azriel making a soft hum in acknowledgment. If he can hear the loud beating of your heart, he doesn’t let on. 

You look at him, his face not giving any apprehension away. It was hard not to fall further for Azriel with each look he gave you, each night you two shared a bed just sinking you deeper and deeper into your feelings.

He is beautiful, a detail impossible for anyone to ignore. You have heard countless fae mention it over the years. Most of them only see him from a distance - the cold, mysterious front Azriel wanted the world to see him as. But you have the privilege of seeing him up close, getting to take in every small detail about him.

The exact angle of his nose, how his jawline curves. How his shadows move languidly around his face, almost wanting you to pay attention to his eyes. You’re certain you could draw an exact replica of how his tattoos litter his chest, the design close to Cassian’s, but not quite the same. Azriel’s tattoos were looser, as if his shadows acted as stencils when the tattoos were made. 

You can even tell when his hair gets to the length he finds too long, the black curls getting into his face, his shadows sweeping the hair off his forehead when he trains.

You treat knowing him as if you’re a scholar writing an encyclopedia of Azriel, needing to know every little thing about him.

The weather doesn’t leave much lingering, everyone turning in quickly, seeking solace under a warm comforter. You follow behind Azriel, making your way to the room allocated to the two of you.

‘Room with the mirrors’ was an understatement. Mirrors of all sizes surround the both of you - more with ornate frames, intricately carved figures and plants decorating each one. One mirror even had detailed Illyrian wings on the bottom. You could see yourself and Azriel from every angle, every movement meant for observation.

“Why do they have so many mirrors in here?” 

Azriel’s eyes sweep across the room, counting at least two dozen mirrors. He knew exactly what Rhys used them for. It was impossible to know the High Lord for centuries and not know his bedroom preferences. “Do you really wish to know?”

Shivers go down your spine at his whispering voice. You have the whole room to yourselves, but his proximity is difficult to handle knowing exactly how Rhys and Feyre use this room. 

“It’s obviously because Rhys tries out mirrors until one shows him a flaw.” You watch Azriel grimace through a reflection.

“They’re a bit unnerving.” Several of his shadows dance around the mirrors, almost watching themselves as they slither and writhe. They are putting on quite the show, causing you to nearly miss Azriel’s statement.

“I guess.” You shrug, not really caring too much. In truth, you like the mirrors. It meant there was nowhere for Azriel to hide from you in here. 

A shiver ran up at the thought that you couldn’t hide either. 

A room of truths and being seen.

“I could just winnow back home.” You startle from your thoughts, Azriel’s tight lips and tense shoulders giving away just how uncomfortable he is. Is it your shared company? Or is it the thought of staying in his brother’s spare sex room that’s putting him on such edge?

“But that’s not fun. Besides, you can’t leave me here with Cassian. He’s already disaster planning. I need someone to protect me.” You sit down on a settee, unlacing your shoes. A small part of you doesn’t want Azriel to leave, hoping if you get comfortable, it’ll help him relax. 

An even smaller part doesn’t want to recognize how large that part actually is. You don’t want to be left alone tonight, and you certainly don’t want to have to explore exactly why his absence has such an effect on you.

“You were saying I’m dinner earlier and now I’m your protector. Which is it?” His wings are loosening their stiff hold and from the corner of your eye you see a few shadows nestle beneath the duvet.

“Whichever suits my needs. And tonight I need you to protect me from Cassian.”

Azriel shakes his head, unable to keep the smile off his face as he sits next to you, unlacing his own boots. He nearly takes up half the settee, but you don’t mind as his wing gently drapes around you. He places them neatly next to yours, the domesticity of it lingering in your mind. 

Shoes at the end of the bed, getting ready for bed.

Romance in its simplest form: routine.

He’s gone much too quickly for your liking, his hands quick as he searches drawers for some kind of nightwear. A few shadows help him in his search, pulling out various folds of silk and lace.

“Would you prefer a shirt or one of Feyre’s nightgowns?”

You’d prefer a nightgown, but knowing Feyre’s taste in clothes you know it’d likely leave little to the imagination. Azriel’s already a bit hesitant to stay, and you don’t want to push him further away. 

“Shirt, please.”

You thought he was offering you one of Rhys’s shirts from the drawers, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he unbuttons the front of his shirt, his shadows undoing the ties at the back, before the dark wisps carry the shirt over to you. He’s half turned away from you as he digs through the drawers, but you can still make out the contours of his body, the muscles in his arms moving with him.

You thank the shadows for their help, slipping away to the attached bathroom to change and get ready for bed. This isn’t the first time you’ve shared a bed, but it feels different. More serious somehow. You slip into Azriel’s shirt, the fabric practically melting onto your skin. 

It smells divine. You want to just drown in the fabric here and now.

Instead you go back into the room, finding Azriel in comfortable sleep pants. 

He turns his back to you, doing a sweep of the room to ensure every crevice is shut and locked. When he turns, you can’t help the squeal that leaves your lips at the sight of the words printed on the rear of the pants. 

Azriel looks back around at you, only to find you pointing and giggling where his ass had been a few seconds before.

“Your pants say juicy!” Sure enough, the purple plush pants had the word ‘juicy’ in rhinestones and all capital letters. “No wonder Cassian wants to eat you, you’re practically advertising it!”

Your laughs are practically bouncing off the mirrors, Azriel’s body surrounded by your joy. He wants to be annoyed at these ridiculous pants Rhys clearly wears, but as your laughs continue, his annoyance is all an act. He tries his best to keep a neutral expression, but he’s certain some forlorn look of longing is in its place.

“Ha ha, very funny. Can we go to bed?” You’re still a ball of giggles as you make your way to the bed, awkwardly shuffling, a bit unsure. This part is always confusing and awkward - the two of you shuffling, waiting to see what the other would do. 

Azriel is well-versed in loving from a distance. He was convinced for so long that if Mor only saw him, acknowledged him, it’d be enough. And then he met you. And Mor became nothing more than she had always been - his friend. 

Tonight. Tonight he would not love you from a distance. His legs carried him to the bed, taking the initiative as his wings spread out against the mattress. He pulls back your side of the duvet, his hand patting the bed. An invitation.

Your cheeks turn a shade of red he wanted to paint the walls with. He could see himself in the mirror behind you, one of his wings twitching in delight that he found himself attractive.

Maybe just being in your gaze did that to him - opened him up to see who he could be. Maybe your gaze made him preen like a male bird, putting his best self on display. Or maybe it was the tattoos of his chest on full display, his sweatpants hidden beneath the duvet already.

“Are you going to hog the blankets?” Your words come out a bit shaky, trying to shift your focus from his warm body as you get in next to him. His wing curls back up, tucking in close to his body to make room for you. You shimmy into bed, pulling the duvet back over your body. For several minutes you lay there, practically stock still trying to avoid moving or disturbing Azriel, until he twitches lightly. You turn and notice his pinched brows, trying to hide the discomfort from his furled wings.

“I could- sleep on top of you? So you can spread out your wings? I just want you to be comfortable.” You add hastily, turning on your side to see him better. The bed was large enough for Illyrian wings, but you’re lying right in the middle of the bed, making it impossible for his wings to stretch out.

He’s silent, clearly thinking you’re question over. He’s taking longer than you expected, hesitance in your words as you speak again.

“Or I could sleep on the floor.” Your last word comes out as a gasp, his fingers quickly wrapping around your hips, pulling you on top of him. One of his hands moves around your head, tucking you into his chest. The other moves to your back, his fingers rubbing soothing strokes down your spine as he adjusts to be laying right in the middle of the bed. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” His fingers keep moving, not stopping their soothing patterns. His wings drop dramatically onto the bed, practically yelling at you to accept the space you gave away to them.

“Somehow, I think I’ll survive.” You let out a breath, finally letting yourself relax and breathe normally again. You burrow your face in his chest, the piney scent of him making your eyes droop. His fingers are soothing against your skin, each movement gently guiding you closer and closer to sleep. 

“Now if Cassian comes looking for a midnight snack he’ll have to get through you first.” You pinch his side, a squeak hitting your ear as a shadow pulls your hand away.

Blind dates and nosey friends

Your hands tear the bread in half once again as you see the waitress heading straight toward you. An awkward smile is on her face as she approaches your table. 

“Miss, are you ready to order?” You sigh through your nose, shredding the roll in your hands. She is just doing her job, you don’t have to take your frustrations on this male out on your server. You start to ask for a menu, when out of the corner of your eye you see large wings you would know anywhere. The shadow that branches off from him, heading in a direct path to you, is the confirmation it was him. 

“One moment, please.” You don’t wait for her response before practically sprinting over, grabbing the shadowsinger’s arm before even thinking about it. He jerks his arm back, a scowl on his face before he realizes who it is. 

Azriel’s defensive stance slackens as he takes you in, his eyes lingering long enough on your dress that heat creeps up your chest. A few shadows start curling around your bare legs.

“What are you doing here, Az?” His eyes finally look back up at your face, something hidden deep in his gaze.

“I was supposed to meet someone, but they never showed.” Your stomach falls at his words, the hypocrisy impossible to ignore. He was supposed to be on a date? But they didn’t show up? 

You take the chance to look at him, his usual leathers exchanged for more formal wear. An all black tunic that shows a glimpse of his chest. It is a gorgeous fabric - a deep black with dark blue embroidery along the edges. His clothes are looser than his leathers, but they still show off his chiseled body.

You were a fool to not take in the back of the outfit when you had the chance earlier, certain he fills out the seat of his pants quite nicely.

Whoever didn’t show up for Azriel was a fool. Your jealousy at that fact is undeterred by remembering you are also supposed to be on a date right now.

“Same here.” Your date not showing up didn’t bother you too much. You were disappointed by how highly Feyre spoke of him, but you hadn’t been too thrilled to be going out anyway. 

“Are you hungry?” Azriel gives you a bewildered look, and you cross your arms feeling so exposed before him. You gesture to the table behind you, hoping Azriel will pick up the hint.

He just continues looking at you blankly.

“Would you like to have dinner with me? I have a table, and the waitress certainly thinks I made up having a guest to eat with.”

He looks down at your outfit once again, goosebumps trailing where his eyes land. Just because you hadn’t been thrilled to come didn’t mean you took picking out your outfit lightly.

“It would be an honor.” He follows you to your table, long legs making it to your chair before you do. He pulls your chair out, helping you sit before he takes his own seat.

“Who were you meeting tonight?” His voice is low, nearly a growl as he asks the question. Before you can answer, your waitress comes back, two menus in her arms. You thank her as she hands them to you both.

“A nice merlot, please.” Az holds up two gloved fingers to her, wanting the same. 

“Feyre wanted to set me up with some male from the Rainbow. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.” His eyebrows pinch together, a shadow curling his ear conspicuously before his face softens.

“And he didn’t show up?”

You shake your head, not wanting to voice the disappointment at being stood up. You weren’t giddy about the date, but it still stings of rejection.

“His loss.” Azriel is so sincere as he says it, his face opening in a way that only really happens when you’re alone with him. “Truly.”

You open your menu, unable to linger in his sincerity. “Maybe he was the great love of my life and now I’ll never have that.”

“I truly doubt that.”

The waitress comes back with two glasses of red wine and a fresh basket of breadsticks that she places between you two before heading off again.

“What are you doing here - who were you meeting?”

“Cassian’s been trying to get me to go out with him more. I got tired of waiting for him.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, he probably got caught up with Nesta and I’d rather not smell them in a public restaurant.” Azriel grimaces, and you remember him telling you last week about finding them on the training grounds and immediately turning around.

“So, did Feyre tell you anything about this guy?” You look up from your menu, a bit confused at him circling the conversation back to a male you’ve never met.

“Not really. Just said he’s good looking and a nice male.” You shrugged, reaching for a breadstick to tear apart, giving your hands something to do.

“She didn’t give you a name?”

You think for a moment, replaying the odd memory over again. How Feyre had come into the room, a crazed look about her as she asked if you had any plans this evening. Details of the restaurant reservation flying from her lips, getting a promise that you'd be there before she ran off again.

“No.” You pop some bread into your mouth, finally able to enjoy the softness of it now that you have Azriel looking at you instead of the waitress.

“Do you always go out with nameless males?”

You stop chewing and throw your balled up straw wrapper at him. A shadow catches it before it can hit his face, a smirk taking root, brightening his face. He looks so boyish, so smug. 

It was one of your favorite faces he wore.

The shadow throws the wad at Azriel’s face anyway, leaving him speechless at the defiance. You try to stifle your giggles, your hand hardly stopping the sound as you watch the shadows around him also appear to be laughing.

“It’s not funny.” Azriel tries to slip his face back into the cool neutrality he wears so well, but it’s nearly impossible as your giggles grow. You have to look away, the absurdity of the evening making you want to laugh harder.

A few fae turn their heads to look at the pair of you, quickly averting their gaze once they see who you were seated with. Your laughter dies down, and you know Azriel won’t let the topic die until you give him all the answers he desires.

“No. I hardly ever go out with males.” Azriel stops his teasing, his whole body going still as if movement could impair his hearing. Even his shadows stay still, watching and waiting over his shoulder. 

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’ve only been out a handful of times the past few years, none of them were right.” It’s the truth. Each date felt like a chore, ill-fitting shoes that never quite gave you what you needed. Mor had he annual attempt at setting you up, but you were quite happy to have a quiet love life for the time being. You’re much happier spending your free time with your friends, on your work, or with Nyx than with random males to learn their favorite colors and what they did for a living.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you been seeing anyone?”

“No.” His reply is curt, clearly not wanting to further the discussion. His eyes are cold, the gold not shining how they usually do when he speaks to you.

“Okay.” You’re at a bit of a loss for what to say. Conversation between the two of you is usually so easy.

But the two of you never discuss your love lives with each other. How could you talk about some male to Azriel without saying well he’s not as kind or as attentive as you?

“Come on, Az. Take a breadstick. It won’t kill you.”

You shake the basket at him, trying to get him to splurge a little. His rigorous diet is well known amongst your friends, teasing comments accompanied most meals about Azriel’s strict dietary choices.

That’s all it is when you say it - a deflection, a joke to ease the slight awkwardness that accompanies your question. To your utter delight, he picks one up, taking small bites, savoring each taste. 

It’s nearly sinful how he eats it.

Once it’s gone, he pats around his chest, looking around the room.

“Look at that.”

“What?”

“I am still alive.”

“Oh shut up.”

“All these years, I thought bread would kill me.”

You roll your eyes at him, picking the menu up to finally look over what you want for dinner.

Who did this to you?

It’s easy to forget Mor is first and foremost a warrior. Her chosen wardrobe is curated to draw attention to her other assets, but her muscles still shine.

“Ow.” Mor’s hand is quick as she jostles your face, clutching your jaw tight. Her grip gives away her true strength - focusing all of it on your face. 

You pity anyone who comes in her way on a battlefield.

“Hold still.”

“I’m trying, you’re hurting me.”

“Shush. You’re fine.” 

A lone shadow creeps through the crack beneath the door, making its way over to you. It slinks through the shadows of the room, slithering from the shadow of the bed to the shadows beneath the dresser. 

You notice it halfway through its journey, but Mor remains ignorant. It moves up your leg, gently swirling your hand in comfort. It works almost instantly, the cool touch of it enough to distract you from Mor’s ministrations.

For a moment you almost forgot where you were.

“Ow!” It comes out louder than you intend, scaring off the shadow. The disappointment of losing your shadow friend took your mind off the pain momentarily before scowling at your friend again.

“Are you sure you don’t want Madja?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop complaining.”

You groan, unable to stop yourself despite Mor’s withering look. You suck in a breath through your teeth, nearly biting your tongue as she continues stitching your face.

“What are you doing?” You didn’t hear Azriel come in, didn’t hear a sound from him. But now he’s impossible to ignore. His shadows swarm you, their soft caresses welcome and wanted. They brush against any open skin they can, a few tickling against the open wound on your face. A few find the bruises littering your legs and hips, their cool caress not stinging like pressure would.

Mor merely rolls her eyes at him, annoyance flickering in her brown eyes as she looks to him. “I’m playing healer because I thought it would be fun, what does it look like I’m doing?”

Several of the shadows leave you, circling around Azriel’s ears conspiratorially. His wings flare out, almost casting a wall between you and the rest of the world. One of the shadows tries to swat Mor away, a huff of annoyance leaving her.

Azriel has been different ever since your dinner together. The two of you are spending more time together than ever - now you see him at most meals, he gives you his weekly schedule and warns you whenever he’ll be gone, and the two of you always slink off and spend the evenings together.

It’s been strange lately.

Despite the shadows whispers, his scowl only deepens. His eyes assess your face, scanning for every injury. Hazel eyes go straight to the bruise covered by your shirt, as if he can see beneath the fabric to the purple skin beneath. Azriel’s face tightens, disapproval clearly evident.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” His voice is deeper, some deep anger taking over his face.

Mor is quick to step in, to calm the shadows that are swirling around you, making it difficult for her to continue her stitching.

“Calm down, she fell down the stairs.” 

His breathing starts slowing again. Catching Mor’s eye, she tries not to laugh at the intense display. She even mouths his words back to you, an impish look on her face before she focuses again on your cheek, purposefully ignoring the Illyrian practically breathing down her neck.

You try to laugh but wince as she brings up the needle to your cheek, threading it through skin, slowly closing the wound. An intake of air gives away your true discomfort, no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“You’re being too harsh.” Mor groans at Azriel’s admonishment before reaching for his hand, gently handing over the needle to him before standing. She dusts off her dress before getting to her full height. Azriel bends down, trying to keep the needle from pulling too far, allowing Mor to slightly tower over him.

“If my stitching isn’t up to your standard, you may finish it.” She huffs, waiting for his response. Hands meet her hips waiting until he concedes, nodding silently. She’s quick to turn on her heel, muttering about overprotective males before shutting the door behind her.

“She should have taken you to Madja.” Azriel clicks his tongue as if Mor could hear his complaints through the wall. His shadows seem to nod in agreement poking out over his shoulder before making their way back to you. 

“I didn’t want to go to Madja.”

“Why not?” 

It took a moment to find the words, to vocalize it out loud. It was silly - your arms were full, trying to carry too much at once. Foolishly you thought the stairs were a few feet away, missing the top step and falling face down the stairs. 

You had hit the walls with each tumble, causing a loud enough raucous to startle Mor, who immediately helped you up and fussed over you.

“I was embarrassed.” Your arms cross over your chest, trying to hide into yourself. Azriel gently cups your face in his hand, bringing the threaded needle back up. You wince, shutting your eyes tight to avoid seeing it. 

Azriel was right - Mor had been a bit rough in her stitching, but not enough for you to say anything. 

His thumb gently strokes your cheek, the delicacy enough to have you slowly crack open an eye only to find him looking right back at you.

“Why were you embarrassed?” His voice is softer now, less amusement as he holds your gaze. His gaze is strong, impossible to turn or hide away from. 

Maybe that’s why you open up completely, the cowardly parts of you on full display.

“I didn’t want to bother Madja with something I got because I tripped over my own feet.” You watch his face, waiting for him to understand how silly this situation is and to drop it completely. To continue his stitching and leave you with a bruised ego.

That understanding never comes, his face nearly shriveling in confusion.

“I’ve watched Cassian go to Madja for paper cuts.” 

“Yes, but-“

“Do you think Cassian’s pain is more deserving of healing?” Azriel is quick to cut you off, his words fast to stop the shame spiral you were gearing up to begin. His gaze is hard and unflinching, pinning you in place. 

Truth-Teller isn’t a weapon, it’s a title you feel he deserves. One look from him unspooling all of your secrets.

“It’s different.” Your shoulders slump a bit, finding it hard to find the right words for how you feel. Embarrassing is the best one, but it still feels light. 

“How?”

“I’m not… fighting the good fight. I’m not a warrior.” A few shadows wrap around your shoulders in a comforting embrace, almost as if they are holding you up. “Cassian deserves to be babied a bit when he’s constantly throwing himself into danger.”

A more cross look overcomes his features, a hint of agitation lingering.

“I didn’t realize civilians didn’t have healers.”

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“Then tell me what you mean.”

“Madja has more important things than tending to my falling down the stairs.” 

“I think you’re right. She does have better things to do.” You blink. You’ve never heard Azriel concede in an argument so easily. You’ve watched him argue with Cassian until he was blue in the face just to win.

“But I don’t. So if you’re done…” he trails off, his hand that holds the needle going a bit higher to get into your eyeline. A reminder to both of you that he needs to finish the job Mor started.

You nod, accepting his kindness. The fight eases out of you, slowly leeching from your pores, unable to stand against the softness in his face. Your eyes close more gently this time, the weight of the shadows easing your nerves a bit.

“Just don’t tell me when you’re going to do it, please.”

“Okay, I won’t.” He rubs his thumb along the scar, not applying any pressure. You lean into his touch, unable to stop yourself. The stitch Mor made prickles a bit, but the two of you continue to sit there in a calming silence. Both of his hands now cradle your cheeks, his large palms so comforting you nearly muzzle into them. 

“Azriel, are you ever going to stitch up my face?”

“I’m already done.” 

Your eyes relax, blinking at him. You bring a hand up to your face, touching where the long gash was to find it stitched. 

“I guess that tonic Mor gave me did stop the feeling. Thanks, Az.”

One of his hands gently grabs yours, pulling it from your cheek. He holds it delicately in his own, his thumb swiping across the back of it.

“Stop messing with it. You’ll undo my hard work.” 

“It’s like picking at a scab.”

“Don’t do that either.”

Friends to lovers

A fire crackles in the library, casting a warm glow over the room. Of all the libraries in Night, none of them compare to the one nestled in the Townhouse. It’s smaller than the others, allowing for a more quaint and cozy feel.

The shelves are a bit haphazard, you and Azriel using it as a personal library most of the time. Most books continue notes in the margins from either or both of you - quick scrawl to dictate something for the other or something one of you enjoyed.

The Townhouse is where the two of you spend most of your time - the tighter quarters being enough space for the two of you.

The last few weeks were a blur of Azriel - spending most nights in each other’s beds, 

A blanket’s folded behind your head. You’re tempted to cover your legs with it, but you lean a bit closer into Azriel instead. You are practically draped against his lap, your torso half over his body, a book perched in your hands. He’s using your back as a rest for his book, one hand woven in your hair, the other one making circles in your lower back. 

His shadows flip his pages for him, allowing his hands to lazily wander on their own. It was so domestic and easy, each movement a thrill.

You’re trying to read your book, but if Azriel even asked what it was about you wouldn’t be able to answer. An earlier conversation with Cassian keeps replaying in your mind over and over again, each return to it an attempt to further your resolve.

“Going so soon?” Nesta had pouted, her gray eyes turning pitiful trying to get you to stay longer. “I’ve hardly seen you the past few weeks.”

You started to answer, telling her you hadn’t become that unavailable, when Cassian’s voice boomed through the living room.

“She has to get back to her boyfriend, Nes. He’ll be upset if she’s gone too long. He’ll get broody.”

You had scoffed, nearly jumping at his voice.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? How do you know who I’m talking about? I didn’t say a name.” Cassian came into the room now, amusement on his face as he wiped his hands with a dish rag. 

“Shut up, Cass.”

“He’s not her boyfriend.” Nesta spoke up from the couch. 

“Thank you!”

“You just spend every minute with him, you reek of his scent, and you’re always considering what to do next for him.”

Cassian rounded the couch, plopping down next to Nesta.

“You're his girlfriend without the title.”

“Am not.”

“You sleep in his bed.”

“Not every night.”

Nesta and Cassian looked at each other before turning back to you, almost in unison saying, “or he sleeps in your bed.”

Heat began creeping up your neck, your emotions feeling so violated. You knew the two of you had been close, but was it really so obvious to Cassian of all people?

 “Fine, if you two aren’t dating, I’m sure you won’t mind in two years when Azriel’s dating someone else.”

The words clank through your mind like a dropped bell, the same notes hitting over and over again. Someone else.

“Az?” His name comes out as a whisper, your fear only half wanting him to hear you, the other half begging to be heard.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up, his attention still mostly on his book as he tries to finish the paragraph he’s reading.

“Are we dating?”

Azriel looks away from his book, looking down at you in his lap. Even his shadows drop the book onto your back, their attention moving toward their master’s response. He takes a moment, clearly thinking over your question, giving you his full attention. You turn slightly, angling your body to fully see him.

“I suppose we are.” He answers you so nonchalantly, as if this was a well known fact. You sit up now, taking the spot next to him, your book falling off the couch but you don’t care enough to even look at it. His book falls as well, a soft thump onto the carpet. 

“Are you… happy about it?” A million questions race through your mind, but that’s what comes out first. His hands had followed you as you moved, one of them still resting on your hip, lazily dragging his thumb in languid strokes.

“Delighted.” You take the moment to really look at Azriel, his face mere inches from your own. You hadn’t noticed the gradual change over the weeks, but sitting here now, it is impossible to ignore. His face is brighter, eye bags having shrunk to a regular size. He’s been smiling more, a few laugh lines making their ways onto his cheeks. 

Even his clothes are different - looser, more casual attire covered his body, his leathers getting worn only for training and official duties.

Azriel looks like Azriel. Not the spymaster, not the shadowsinger. Not a thing of legend.

But the male you love.

Your hand reaches out, softly cupping his jaw. Your other hand pushes some of his hair off his forehead, the soft curls bouncing back into place after the attempt to tame them. The smile on his face matches your own: full of possibility, love, and hope. A shadow glides across your lips before moving across your whole face, as if imprinting this moment to their memory.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Your mouth is splitting your face in two, too large to contain your smile to just your lips, it reaches the corners of your eyes.

“Once your questions end, I would like to.”

“Do you love me?”

“So much.” You feel how much he does in his gaze, in his hands, in his words. Everything about him - every interaction, every touch, every moment, it all led you here. You’re grateful for every moment of it as his hands gently pull your face to his, his lips warm and gentle as they meld into yours.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-angst @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl @quiet-loser @thegreyjoyed @paankhaleyaaar @acoazlove

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124 @slytherintaco @userxs-blog @emryb

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Musk steals a billion dollars from low-income Americans and sends it to Intuit

I'm about to leave for a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me on Feb 14 in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and on Feb 15 for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

Let me tell you about the most wasteful US federal government spending I know about. It's a humdinger. You and everyone you know are mired in it for weeks, or perhaps months, every year. It will cost you, personally, thousands of dollars over your lifetime. I'm talking about filing your taxes.

Not paying your taxes. Paying your taxes is fine. It keeps the country running, though not because the government needs our "tax dollars" to pay for things. The government annihilates the money it taxes away from us, and creates new money to pay for programs. The USA needs US citizens' dollars to build highways the same way Starbucks needs its Starbucks gift cards to make lattes – that is, not at all:

https://theglobepost.com/2019/03/28/stephanie-kelton-mmt/

I'm talking about filing your taxes. In nearly every case, a tax return contains a bunch of things the IRS already knows: how much interest your bank paid you, how much your employer paid you, how many kids you have, etc etc. Nearly everyone who pays a tax-prep place or website to file their tax return is just sending data to the IRS that the IRS already has. This is insanely wasteful.

In most other "advanced" countries (and in plenty of poorer countries, too), the tax authority fills in your tax return for you and mails it to you at tax-time. If it looks good to you, you just sign the bottom and send it back. If there are mistakes, you can correct them. You can also just drop it in the shredder and hire an accountant to do your taxes for you, if, for example, you run a small business, or are self-employed, or have other complex tax needs. A tiny minority of tax filers fall into that bucket, and they keep the tax-prep industry in other countries alive, albeit in a much smaller form than in the USA.

In the US, we have a duopoly of two gigantic tax-prep outfits: H&R Block, and Intuit, owners of Turbotax. These companies make billions from low-income, working Americans every year, charging them to format a bunch of information the IRS already has, and then sending it to the IRS on their behalf. These companies lobbied like crazy for the right to tax you when you pay your taxes.

In 2003, it looked like the IRS would start sending Americans pre-completed returns, so H&R Block and Turbotax went into lobbying overdrive, whipping up a "public private partnership" called the "Free File Alliance," that promised to do free tax prep for most Americans. But once the threat of IRS free filing was killed, they turned Free File into a sick joke. Americans who tried to use Free File were fraudulently channeled into filing products that cost money – sometimes hundreds of dollars – to use, a fact that was only revealed after the taxpayer had spent hours keying in their information. Free File sites were also used to peddle unrelated financial products to tax filers, with deceptive language that implied that buying these services was needed to file your return:

https://www.propublica.org/article/inside-turbotax-20-year-fight-to-stop-americans-from-filing-their-taxes-for-free

The big winner from the Free File scam was Intuit, which bought Turbotax in 1993. They made about one billion dollars per year ripping off Americans they'd promised to file free tax returns for. After outstanding work by Propublica, lawmakers and the IRS were finally pressured to create an IRS-based free filing service that would cut Intuit out of the loop. Intuit went on a lobbying blitz without parallel, giving out $3.5m in bribes in 2022 in a bid to kill the Treasury Department's study of a free filing service:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/20/turbotaxed/#counter-intuit

In 2022, nearly every US state attorney general settled their lawsuits against Intuit for the Turbotax ripoff, bringing in $141m:

https://www.agturbotaxsettlement.com/Home/portalid/0

In 2023, the FTC won a case against Intuit over the scam:

https://www.ftc.gov/business-guidance/blog/2023/09/nine-takeaways-initial-decision-intuit-turbotax-action

But Intut was undeterred. They came back in 2023 with a campaign to say that ripping off American tax-filers was antiracist and anyone who wanted the IRS to make filing free was, therefore, a racist:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/27/predatory-inclusion/#equal-opportunity-scammers

Strangely, no one bought that one. By May, 2023 the IRS had announced its own, in-house free file program:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/17/free-as-in-freefile/#tell-me-something-i-dont-know

Now, no one is forcing you to use this program. Do you have a family accountant that your grandparents started using in the Eisenhower administration? Just keep going to them. Do you like using Turbotax? Keep using it! Wanna do your own taxes? Here's the forms:

https://www.irs.gov/pub/irs-pdf/f1040s.pdf

But if you want to file your taxes for free, and you earn $125,000/year or less, here's the IRS's service:

https://www.irs.gov/filing/irs-direct-file-for-free

Better use it quick, though. Elon Musk has just announced that he's killing it. Yeah, I know, no one elected him. That doesn't seem to matter to anyone, least of all Democrats on the Hill, who are still showing up for work every day and trying to engender a "spirit of comity" rather than screaming and throwing eggs:

https://apnews.com/article/irs-direct-file-musk-18f-6a4dc35a92f9f29c310721af53f58b16

Musk called IRS free file a "far left" program and announced that he had "deleted it." By the way, the median Trump voter's income is about $72k, meaning more than half of Trump voters qualified for free file:

https://fivethirtyeight.com/features/the-mythology-of-trumps-working-class-support/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/11/doubling-up-on-paperwork/#rip-freefile

Image: Wcamp9 (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Elon_Musk_-_March_28,_2024_%28cropped%29.jpg

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en

[swtt4hk]

All because of me || Cho Sang-woo x fem!Reader (oneshot) SMUT!!

suggested by: anonymous!

author’s note: if I didn’t make it clear in the title THIS IS SMUTTY! so if you feel uncomfortable with sexual content please do NOT read this fic! Also this is my first smut ever so if it’s poorly written, I apologise but I’m only used to reading smut not writing 😭 anyway enjoy!

player 218. The moment you laid eyes on him on the first game , red light green light , you knew you hated him. He looked like one of those people who you just look at their face and you know that they’re not likeable. Yes , he was attractive, but for you it’s not enough to like someone.

Unfortunately, for both of you , you guys were on the same team. He was player’s 456 , or Gi Hun’s , childhood best friend and , as he called him , the pride of the neighbourhood. He really did look like someone sophisticated and smart but it still wasn’t enough for you to like him. The way he looked at you or the way he talked to you in a different manner than the others made your blood boil. He always had something to say , a comment to make , especially when you made a suggestion or a guess about what the next game was gonna be.

—what if they make us play ddakji again?

—no , they can’t do that. We’ve basically already played the game before and the one’s who got in here are the one’s who won the game so no one’s gonna die because we’re technically all good at ddakji.

He’s right. But you can’t possibly accept that he’s right , you can’t boost his ego. Your hands turn into fists , your knuckles turning white , as you click your tongue , letting out a “ts” , and look away in frustration. Sang-woo can’t help but let out a slight smirk at your frustration knowing that you know that he’s right.

player 218 or Sang-woo didn’t like you either. But it was a complete different reason for him. The moment he looked at you for the first time , he felt like falling in love. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before. But Sang-woo has a really bad drawback. He’s a cold person , which means he doesn’t let his true feelings out and always lets his ego control him. His feelings for you slowly turned into hate for you but deep down he knew he needed you. He had never felt so needy for a woman before. He loved your strong personality and how you always spoke your mind and wasn’t afraid to do anything. He knew that if you told him to get down on his knees , he would do it , no matter how much he “hates” you.

Your other teammates always thought there was something up with you and Sang-woo but didn’t mention it. Everytime you fought with Sang-woo , they would look at each other with a smirk and you would both scold them about it. You both hated the idea of even looking at each other.

The guards come in , guiding you to the next game’s area. You get into teams of ten people and of course the team you’re in involves Sang-woo too. You hated the fact that you were in the same team as him but he had potential and you knew he would help you and your team win.

and he really did. He was the one to come up with a plan the last minute , just when you were about to die. You’re now returning to the main room , all sweaty sitting on the bunk beds quietly after what you just experienced. Player 212 , one of your new teammates walks up to Sang-woo with a smirk.

—wow player 218 , you’re so smart and your idea was so good! You know , I really like smart guys…

For some reason , a pang of anger and jealousy fills your heart but ignore it completely just like it never happened. Sang-woo coldly nods at her and then looks away , showing no interest in what player 212 just said. Instead , he looks at you , dead in the eye , feeling the unspoken tension between you two. You didn’t know if he was eye-fucking you or looking at you with hate but you liked it. You wanted him to look at you. You needed his full attention on you. You couldn’t lie to yourself after all , no matter how much you “hated” him.

The guards come in again , announcing the amount if money increased and then telling you to get into lines to get your lunch. Just when you get up , you feel a strong hand gripping your arm and stopping you from moving.

—you’re seriously not even gonna thank me for saving your miserable life? Hah , how selfish.

When you hear those words , you try to control yourself to not beat him up or at least shout at him and confront him. You take a deep breath and turn around to look at him with a sarcastic smile.

—being a team and being friends is different. you’re not my friend which means I don’t have to thank you for anything. The fact that we’re in the same team and you happened to come up with a plan last minute does not mean you’re the one who saved my life. I could’ve made it in any other team just like I made it in this one. It’s all just a coincidence.

Sang-woo does not respond. He looks around and quickly drags you into the bathrooms and backs you against the wall , gripping your arms tightly so you don’t try to escape. He looks at you with a dark gaze in his eyes , his lips parted , as he’s about to speak.

—are you serious right now? I’ve accepted your bratty behaviour for so long but this is unacceptable. You could’ve died back there and I was the one who saved you. Cut this shit out , you couldn’t have made it without me or in any other team. You need me. So you better say thank you for saving your little insignificant miserable life or you’ll have to face the consequences of being a bitch.

You let out a sarcastic laugh and he looks at you with confusion. He thought he would scare you but definitely failed to.

—you really think I’m scared or hurt right now? I didn’t die back there because it wasn’t my time to die and don’t owe it to anyone. You saved your life not mine. Stop trying to be a smartass all the time and thinking you are special. You think you’re so special? Look at you. You’re here wearing the same uniform as me and all the other players. You’re just as miserable. So stop being an egoistic idiot and think before you speak.

You’re right and he knows it but doesn’t give up. Your bratty attitude makes his blood boil and his grip on your arms tightens.

—you think you’re so smart , huh? Do you want me to show you who the smart one is in here ,hm?

He says and comes closer to you , feeling the heart in his body against yours. His body pressed against yours makes you weak and needy for him but you try to play tough.

—I dare you.

You say , knowing the consequences of your action. There’s no going back now. With one move , his hands go to your waist , lifting you up and placing you on a sink , your head resting on the mirror behind you.

—you’re such a needy slut. Knowing that you’ll get fucked by your rival but still acting bratty. Fuck , you’re making my blood boil so much , I wanna hear you screaming my name until your throat goes numb.

He whispers to yours ear as his hands slide down to your hips , pressing you harder on the sink. His words are making so you wet , you’re trying so hard to hold back a moan. Sang-woo looks at you with a smirk , his body pressing harder against you.

—cat got your tongue? You’re so desperate to get fucked , huh?

his hands go to the waistband of your pants , sliding them down with one movement and pressing his thumb on your already wet underwear.

—so fucking wet for me already…

He mutters to himself but still audible to you. He rubs his thumb on your clothed pussy and you can’t help it anymore , moans slip out of your mouth without realising it.

—fuck , I fucking hate you

You moan and Sang-woo chuckles

—doesn’t seem like it…

He says with a wide smirk on his face and lifts you up again and gently places you on the floor. He quickly removes his clothes and before you know it , his hard cock is inside you , hitting immediately just right where you like it. Your moans get louder as his pace gets faster and faster.

—look at you , so desperate for me…if you were dead who would be fucking you like this , huh? You’re alive because of me , just fucking admit it.

you respond with a loud moan. You can’t even form a normal sentence, he’s fucking you so good , you’ve never felt like this before. The way he’s touching you just where you want it , it’s like he already knows your body so well.

He gets rougher and faster , making your eyes tear up and your moans turn into screams.

—fuck , I’m gonna cum

He groans , as he holds onto your hips for dear life. You keep screaming and moaning his name not caring if anyone outside hears you. The time has finally come , he moans , his pace slowing down as he fills you up. You both catch your breath , your bodies are sweaty and his hands are caressing your torso as he’s trying to come down from his high. He slips his cock out of your pussy and bends down , filling your neck with hot kisses.

—what do you say now , hm? Changed your mind?

you close your eyes , enjoying his hot kisses on your neck as you finally calm down. You know that he’s right , you knew it all along but who agrees with their enemy? Your hand reaches his head , caressing his hear and you respond in a low and soft tone.

—thank you Sang-woo…

you can feel his smirk while kissing you and he caresses your sides , softer this time as he’s finally heard what he wanted to hear.

outside of the bathroom , everyone is shocked to hear screams and moans from the bathroom , wondering who it is except for your team. They know exactly who it is and they’re not surprised. But later you guys will have to deal with their teasing and the funny looks they will give you.

———————————————————————

The endddd! Thank you so much for reading and a speacial thanks to the person who suggested it! I hope I reached your expectations and if I misunderstood your suggestion please correct me! Anyway , more fics coming soon!💞

[domm1etae]

sent to tempt me - chapter twelve

chapter eleven: new faces, new stories

chapter summary: Looking for advice, Yunho meets Jisung’s friends, who turn out to know more about Mingi than he expected.

pairing: yunho x mingi

genre: smut (not yet but there will be eventually), angst, fluff, romance, m/m, non!idol!ateez, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, drama, coming of age, collage, religion

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually) | mdni

word count: 3k

warnings under

collage, roommates, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, bad boy mingi and religious church good boy yunho, same-sex attraction, m/m, teasing, dark themes, homophobia, self discovery, pet names, strangers to lovers, religion and religious topics, aaaand more will be added soon hehehe

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author's note: hey my dear readers ♡ hope you enjoyed today’s chapter! 📖 i can't wait to hear your thoughts and comments ★★ i'm already working on chapter 13, so hopefully, it’ll be out soon! ���

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Yunho sat in class, staring at the professor, but nothing was sinking in. His notes were a mess of half-written sentences, and his pen tapped restlessly against the desk. His mind was elsewhere—circling back, again and again, to the conversation he had with Mingi that night.

A friendship. That’s what they had agreed on. Well, sort of. Mingi had phrased it more like a deal, like some sort of peace treaty for the sake of their project and dorm. “Let’s be nice to each other, get to know each other.” That sounded reasonable, right? Normal, even.

Then why did it feel like such a big deal?

Yunho chewed on his lip. This wasn’t just about a casual friendship—it was about Mingi. And Mingi was… different. Yunho didn’t know how to act around him, didn’t know what to expect. One second he was intimidating, and the next, he was geeking out over anime. Sometimes, he was looking at him, like he could see right through him.

Yunho exhaled sharply, slouching further into his seat.

He needed to talk to someone about this.

Jisung. That was the plan. Jisung and his friends.

Yunho fished out his phone under the desk, quickly checking his messages. Jisung had texted him earlier, confirming their meetup for later. Yunho just hoped they could actually help him figure this out. Because right now, his head was an absolute mess.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On his way to Jisung’s dorm, Yunho stopped by a convenience store to grab some snacks—an unspoken rule when hanging out with Jisung. If he showed up empty-handed, he’d never hear the end of it.

Balancing a bag of chips, some drinks, and a pack of cookies, he made his way down the hall and knocked on the door.

A second later, it swung open.

“YUNHOOOO!” Jisung practically yelled, grinning wide.

Yunho blinked. “Hey—”

“Oh my god, it’s been forever!”

Yunho frowned. “We saw each other two days ago. In class.”

“I KNOW,” Jisung groaned dramatically. “That’s like five years.”

Yunho rolled his eyes but laughed anyway as Jisung dragged him inside.

The dorm was warm and slightly cluttered, but it had a cozy feel to it. Two guys were already sitting inside, casually chatting. Yunho immediately assumed they were the friends Jisung had mentioned.

“Yunhooo,” Jisung started, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “This is Seonghwa and Hongjoong.”

Seonghwa had on a soft sweater and casual black pants, glasses perched on his nose, his long, fluffy black hair framing his face. Next to him, Hongjoong sat with ripped jeans and a tight black shirt, his blond-dyed hair slightly tousled.

Yunho exchanged polite handshakes with both of them. “Hey, nice to meet you guys.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Seonghwa said with a small nod.

Hongjoong smiled. “Same here.”

Jisung clapped his hands together. “They both study here too, but different faculties. Hongjoong studies MP&E, which stands for what again?”

“Music Production & Engineering,” Hongjoong answered smoothly. “But honestly, for me, it’s mostly just Music Production.”

He grinned at Yunho, who nodded in understanding.

“Riiight, anyways,” Jisung continued. “And Seonghwa is studying psychology. He’s usually quiet, but when it comes to stuff he likes, he yaps.”

Yunho glanced between them, taking in their dynamic. They seemed like complete opposites, but there was an easy warmth between them. Hopefully, they’d like him too.

“I’m a literature major, same as Jisung,” Yunho added.

“Oooh, really?” Hongjoong mused. “So that’s how you two know each other?”

Seonghwa frowned slightly. “What do you mean? Jisung literally told us about Yunho, like, three times already.”

Hongjoong blinked. “He did?”

Seonghwa sighed. “You weren’t listening at all, were you?”

Jisung raised a hand. “Okay, okay, hold up—I gotta back Hongjoong up on this one. We all know—well, Yunho doesn’t, but we all know—what a great listener Joong is. But every time we talked about Yunho, he was working on his project, sooo that excuses him.”

Hongjoong pointed at him. “Thank you.”

Yunho chuckled, relaxing a little.

Jisung clapped his hands dramatically. “BUT WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THAT NOOOW! So hand over the snackies, sit your ass down, and spill. And I mean the whole pot!”

Yunho blinked. He suddenly felt very small under the expectant gazes of three people he barely knew. He had to open up to total strangers? Okay. Okay. He was totally not freaking out.

But they seemed nice. And they were Jisung’s friends. And Jisung had said they were good with advice…

With a deep breath, Yunho hesitated before settling down on the floor in front of Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

Hongjoong leaned forward, tilting his head. “Okay, wait—since I wasn’t listening—sorry about that, Yunho, truly,” he added with a dramatic hand over his heart, “what is this about again?”

From the kitchen, Jisung’s voice rang out. “Mister Perfect.”

Hongjoong groaned, turning his head toward the kitchen. “Oh my god, really? I totally forgot he’s a literature major too, damn.”

Then, shifting back to Yunho, he squinted. “Alright, so what did he do? Did he hit on you? Did his group mess with you? Hurt you or something?”

Yunho’s face went up in flames. “No! NO! Not really—” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Actually, um… he’s my roommate.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

“WHAT!?” Hongjoong nearly choked. “THE Song Mingi is your roommate?”

Yunho winced at how loud he was. His entire face burned as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Y-yeah…”

Jisung strolled back into the room, dumping the snacks onto the table. “And as you can tell,” he said, grabbing a bag of chips, “they are complete opposites. So you know damn well that cannot go well.”

Hongjoong nodded, snatching a cookie. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

Yunho hesitated before asking, “Wait… you know Mingi?”

Jisung snorted. “Babe. Everybody knows Mingi.”

Yunho groaned, throwing his head back. “Yeah, I know. Sadly. But I meant—like, do you know him personally or something?”

Hongjoong shrugged, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Yeah, well… you could say that, I guess?”

Yunho frowned, shifting slightly in his seat. His fingers twitched where they rested on his knee, and he felt the immediate urge to pull at his hoodie sleeves. “What does that mean?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Hongjoong smirked and leaned back comfortably, resting an arm along the couch’s backrest. “Before college started, Mingi used to hang out at the local studio sometimes. He literally knows everyone, so he’s everywhere, really. You’d be surprised how often you just turn a corner, and boom—Mingi’s already there like he’s been waiting for you.”

Yunho huffed through his nose. That was… disturbingly accurate.

Hongjoong continued, “Anyway, after a few casual run-ins, there was this one time—” He paused, eyes flickering upward as if trying to recall the exact details. “I was behind the pult, and this group of people were chilling in the studio, drinking, getting high—you know, just messing around, the usual.”

Yunho’s eyes widened. “Mingi was there?” That didn’t seem all that surprising, but still, hearing it made it feel different. He never imagined Mingi hanging out in that kind of scene, even tho it made total sense.

“Yeah, of course,” Hongjoong confirmed, noticing Yunho’s reaction. “At around 2:30 a.m., out of nowhere, he just stands up. Doesn’t say a word, doesn’t give any sort of warning—just walks straight into the booth like he owns the place. Then he turns to me through the glass and signals for me to play him something.”

Yunho’s stomach twisted. He could almost see it. Mingi, tall and confident, moving with that easygoing swagger, stepping into the recording booth like he belonged there. He was the type to do things on impulse, wasn’t he? But to rap? Mingi?

“And then,” Hongjoong exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe it himself, “he spits out one of the best rap verses I’ve ever heard.”

Yunho’s jaw went slack. He blinked once. Twice. His brain short-circuited, like it physically couldn’t process what had just been said. His lips parted, but no sound came out at first, just a tiny exhale of disbelief.

“Wait—” Yunho finally managed. “So, you mean to tell me that my roommate—Song Mingi—the same guy who’s basically the most famous person in our school, a literature major, raps?”

Jisung, now comfortably sprawled out with a drink in hand, let out a loud snort. “What are you so surprised for? I told you, Mingi is full of surprises. You can never know if the stories about him are true or not.” He pointed his drink at Yunho for emphasis. “But this one? Yeah, this one’s real.”

Yunho felt his throat go dry. His mind was still racing, trying to picture Mingi doing something as intense as rapping. The same Mingi who lazed around in their dorm, the same Mingi who constantly teased him and made his life a total rollercoaster of emotions—that Mingi?

“And how do you know that?” Yunho asked, voice unintentionally softer, like he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

Hongjoong grinned. “Well, after that night, I couldn’t just let Mingi go, could I? So I invited him over for a proper studio session. I even recorded a little bit.” He shot a look at Jisung, lips curling up mischievously. “And guess what? Jisung here was one of the first people to hear it.”

Seonghwa, who had been quietly sipping his drink, finally spoke up, his voice gentle yet sure. “It’s true,” he said, a small smile forming as he adjusted his glasses. “I’ve heard it too.”

Yunho swallowed. He lowered his gaze, his fingers automatically finding the hem of his hoodie, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He already felt like he didn’t really know Mingi before, but this? This was on an entirely different level. Every time he thought he had Mingi somewhat figured out, another layer peeled away, revealing something even more unexpected beneath.

Hongjoong exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly as he thought back. “Yeah, but as I said, that was before college even started. I haven’t spoken to Mingi in a solid year and a half.” He shrugged, swirling his drink absentmindedly. “I mean, he wasn’t a jackass to me or anything. If he ever saw me around, I think he’d at least give me a nod, like a casual ‘hey, I see you’ kind of thing. But that’s about it.”

Yunho nodded slowly, absorbing this new piece of information. He didn’t know why, but the thought of Mingi acknowledging Hongjoong—even in such a small, impersonal way—felt… strange. It was one thing to know that everyone knew Mingi, but knowing that even people like Hongjoong had this passing connection with him made it feel even more surreal.

Hongjoong continued, leaning forward slightly. “Since I’m from around here, I actually knew of Mingi before college, so trust me—I’ve probably heard every rumor about him at least once. And I get why people either fear him or are totally obsessed with him.”

Yunho gulped. The words settled over him heavily, sinking into his already overloaded brain.

He swallowed again, fingers twitching against his hoodie sleeves. So now, he knew yet another person who was somehow connected to Mingi. Not that Hongjoong seemed that close to him, but still—it was something. It was more than Yunho had before.

And it definitely gave him something new to think about when he inevitably couldn’t fall asleep later. Great. Fantastic. Amazing.

Jisung clapped his hands together suddenly, snapping Yunho out of his spiraling thoughts. “Well, now that this is all out of the way and totally clear—” he gestured vaguely between Yunho and Hongjoong, “—can we finally get to your problem, Yunho? You know, the reason you came here in the first place?”

Yunho stiffened.

Oh. Right. That.

His actual problem.

He had almost forgotten about it for a second with everything else being thrown at him. But now, as Jisung and Hongjoong both turned to him expectantly, waiting for him to spill the reason he had walked in looking like a deer in headlights—his nerves came rushing back in full force.

Yunho inhaled sharply, totally not panicking.

Yunho exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts before finally speaking.

“Jisung already knows this,” he started, shifting uncomfortably, “but to catch you guys up… Basically, Mingi and I are roommates.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong exchanged a quick glance before turning back to Yunho, listening intently.

Yunho continued, playing with the hem of his sleeve. “At first, things were… fine, I guess? He was nice enough the first week—not overly friendly or anything, but not a total jerk either. We just kinda coexisted. But then…” He hesitated, glancing at Jisung for reassurance before continuing, “Then, one night, he had some friends over, and, uh—he stood up for me.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Stood up for you? How?”

Yunho swallowed. “Some of his friends were being kinda rude, making fun of me. I wasn’t gonna say anything, but then Mingi just—he shut them down.”

Seonghwa’s brows lifted slightly. “Huh.”

“Yeah,” Yunho nodded. “And, I mean, I was grateful, right? So I tried to thank him afterward.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And?”

Yunho sighed. “And then he started acting weird.”

Seonghwa tilted his head. “Weird how?”

Jisung snorted. “He started acting like a total dick, basically. But Yunho’s too nice to say that.”

“Jisung,” Yunho muttered, shooting him a look.

“What?” Jisung held up his hands. “It’s true!”

Yunho sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. “Anyway, when I thanked him, he just looked at me and said, ‘Don’t thank me.’”

Seonghwa frowned. “What?”

“Yeah,” Yunho nodded. “Then he said, ‘I don’t want that. Just because I stood up for you doesn’t mean we’re friends.’”

Hongjoong let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

“And then,” Yunho went on, voice growing quieter, “‘It’s already bad enough that my friends know about you. They’re making fun of me because of you. So, let’s not make this any more complicated, okay?’”

There was a moment of silence.

“Wow,” Seonghwa said finally.

Yunho let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah. And, uh, I didn’t really know what to say after that, so I just… apologized.”

“Apologized?” Hongjoong repeated, incredulous.

Yunho nodded, cheeks burning. “I don’t know, it felt like—like maybe I had done something wrong? But he just looked at me and went, ‘Whatever. Just… stay out of my way.’”

Hongjoong scoffed. “What the hell got into him?”

“I know, right?” Jisung said, exasperated. “See, this is why I keep telling you not to waste your energy on him and finally stand up, Yunho.”

Yunho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just—I don’t get it. Why act like that all of a sudden? What did I even do wrong?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “That’s… yeah, that’s weird.”

Jisung clapped his hands together. “And that isn’t even the worst part, right, Yunho?”

Yunho groaned. “Mhm.”

He hesitated for a second, then finally admitted, “The day after all that happened, we got assigned a huge literature project. Like, huge—it’s a two, maybe three-month-long thing. And, of course…Guess who I got stuck with,”

“Mingi,” they all said in unison.

Yunho threw his hands up. “Yeah, exactly.”

Jisung clicked his tongue. “See? The universe has it out for you, dude.”

Yunho exhaled sharply. “So, we agreed to meet up after school a few times to make sure we actually get a good grade.”

Hongjoong nodded. “Okay, that seems reasonable. Have you started working on it yet?”

Yunho rubbed his temple. “We met up once.”

Seonghwa blinked. “Once?”

“Yeah.” Yunho sighed. “Two days ago.”

Jisung clapped his hands together. “Alright, so now we’re all caught up on everything that’s happened so far. But Yunho, you said you had something to discuss, so I’m guessing something else went down in the past two days, right?”

Yunho exhaled, shifting in his seat. “Yeeeeeah,” he admitted slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I still can’t wrap my head around it, but… basically, last night, around 1 AM, I got up to get some water. And all of a sudden, I hear someone shuffling with the door.”

Jisung gasped dramatically. “OH MY GOD, Yunho—did you get robbed? Did Mingi kick you out of the dorm and now you have nowhere to sleep at?”

“What?” Yunho blinked, thrown off. “No! What the heck, Jisung? Let me finish.”

Jisung shrugged. “I dunno, man, sounds like the logical conclusion.”

Yunho groaned and rolled his eyes before continuing, “Anyway. I hear someone at the door, and at first, I’m like, ‘Oh my god, who is that?’ Like, I thought maybe some drunk guy was trying to get into the wrong dorm or something. But then the door actually opens, and in walks Mingi—totally beaten up and bleeding.”

Jisung let out a short laugh. “Hah. Karma.”

Seonghwa immediately frowned and smacked Jisung’s arm.

“Ow!” Jisung yelped, rubbing the spot where Seonghwa hit him. “Dude, what?”

“Shut up,” Seonghwa muttered.

Hongjoong, who had been silently processing, leaned forward. “Please continue, Yu.”

Yunho nodded, letting out a slow breath. “So, obviously, I was shocked. I asked him if he was okay, but he just brushed me off. Told me not to talk to him, to just leave him alone, and then went straight to his room.”

Jisung scoffed. “Oh, amazing. So you went back to your room too, right?”

Yunho pressed his lips together into a straight line.

Jisung narrowed his eyes. “Right, Yunho? You went back to bed and left Mingi alone?”

Hongjoong sighed and crossed his arms. “If I had to guess,” he said, “Yunho didn’t go back to bed. Because if he had, he wouldn’t be sitting here telling us this whole story.”

Yunho swallowed, his fingers twitching in his lap. “Yeah, well… I wanted to go to bed,” he muttered, “but somehow—”

Then, all in one breath, he blurted out, “It happened and I knocked on Mingi’s door and said that I know he hates me but I would like to help him heal his wounds and he let me so we spent the night healing his wounds and eventually talking.”

He squeezed his eyes shut the moment the words left his mouth.

Silence.

Slowly, hesitantly, he opened his eyes again—only to find three pairs of wide eyes staring back at him, mouths slightly open in shock.

Hongjoong blinked. Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. Jisung was completely frozen.

Yunho swallowed. “Uh…”

Jisung finally broke the silence.

“…You what?”

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[dragonagegayz]

Wherever You Go, I'll Be Right Beside You

Rating: Explicit

Game: Dragon Age The Veilguard

Pairing: Lucanis x Rook, Rookcanis, Lucanis x TransMale!Rook

Word Count: 14,700

I didn't intentionally write this with my Rook in mind but uh yeah, it def my Rook, he even gets named dropped so sorry friends

also, I did not mean to write 14k I was really aiming for like 4 and then just 10k more of stuff, I am so sorry lol

Summary: Too long Rook and Lucanis have been separated after the defeat of the gods, so the leader of the Veilguard returns to Treviso to surprise his lover. Reunion sex ensues and all the emotions that come with that.

Warning: I am a trans man author and use cunt/clit to describe Rook's junk!

Title comes from the song "Steady Hand" by Saint Motel

Ao3 link

     After saving the world from ending, you’d expect the one who was the leader in all of it to probably get some sort of break from responsibilities, they did save the world after all. Unfortunately for Rook Thorne, such a luxury was not available to him and he quickly found himself running all across Thedas to try to tend to hundreds of different things for those who helped in the fight against the Evenuruis. Helping the Veil Jumpers reestablish their footing in Arlathan, trying to get the Shadow Dragons back into power in Minrathous, focusing an effort to return balance to the Necropolis after the fade nearly fell, and of course, helping the leadership of the Grey Wardens establish a new purpose for the organization and for those who chose to stay as Wardens. It was good in a way, helping those in need was a calling Rook always answered which helped him to see his team fairly often even after going their separate ways. The elf had made a lot of friends in the journey doing so and to be able to see what those relationships bloomed into was one of the perks of it all to him. Especially with the Grey Wardens, being a part of his group’s history from curing the calling to discovering their new call of duty felt important, vital even. Rook loved it, he truly couldn’t deny that.

     But he also couldn’t deny the desire to just stop for a moment and relax, to take a moment to breathe and see his work before charging head first into the next thing.

And it would be incredibly nice to see his lover again.

     It had been at least a month since he’d seen Lucanis and their last interaction had been so brief Rook hesitated to even call it anything but a figment of his imagination. They had met for coffee in Treviso, Cafe Petra of course, and while their date had been wonderful, it had barely lasted an hour before the First Talon had to be pulled away, as did the Grey Warden. They barely got to share a kiss before they parted, a short peck of their lips together, and a promise of more from both men. Well, neither had expected it was going to be another month before they would see each other again. Had Rook known that, he wouldn’t have let his lover out of his sight for at least 24 hours, maybe even 48. Perhaps it was dramatic but to know he was only going to be able to talk to Lucanis through letters for such a long time, he would have done everything and anything to just hear the man’s voice in his ears for as long as possible before being forced to part.

     Rook knew he wasn’t the only one feeling the distance though, the more days they spent apart, the more sad the First Talon’s letter became. More little details of pet names, more mentions of longing and missing the elf. There were even a few times where Spite would write too, angry lines of asking when Rook would return and even one time about how he missed his smell. When he wrote a response, the elf made sure to dab a little of his cologne on the paper, the response he got was from a single sheet of paper with a giant thank you written on it. The grey warden still wasn’t sure which one of them had written it.

     So, after a long, grueling month without seeing his lover, Rook decided enough was enough. After making sure the Grey Wardens weren’t in desperate need of his assistance anywhere, he let Evka and Antione know he was going to Treviso and wasn’t sure when he’d be back. Evka had given him this knowing look but for as much as she teased, she always understood. Antione did too, ever the romantic, and even made sure to assure Rook as he was leaving for Antiva to not worry about things in the Wetlands. “We’ve got it here, go and see your First Talon!” He yelled as he practically pushed the other warden into the Eluvian.

     By the time Rook got to Treviso, night had already settled over the city. Which didn’t mean much for its citizens, even with the sun set the markets still buzzed with people, cafes, and casinos full of patrons to please. However, it also meant the attendants at House Dellamorte would most likely be in bed and if there was one thing Rook hated more than anything, it was being a bother, especially in his lover’s home. Lucanis had tried to assure him that it was fine and that his home was Rook’s home but it was intimidating, to say the least. Rook had grown up in a 4 roomed shack where they had to use an outhouse, the mansion was nauseating for him to even stand in, let alone try to stay at. It just always felt strange and with Caterina being there too, the Grey Warden always just felt it was best to avoid it. Either way, he found that getting a room at the inn was usually the best way to avoid interruption from the Crows when with their First Talon. What could Rook say? He knew it was selfish but Lucanis was the one thing he was proud to be selfish about. He was the elf’s lover, after all, not the Crow’s.

     He always ended up at the same inn, one located right in the heart of the market district. He liked the atmosphere it gave the rooms he rented, Rook would crack the windows open a bit to let the noises of the Treviso city life filter through, it became a low buzz in the back of his brain, almost as a way to fill the empty space left by the blight no longer in his body. And so, when he had exchanged his gold for the room, (the attendant knew who he was, thanked him for saving the world, and tried to offer the room for free but Rook refused) that was the first thing he did after setting his bag down. This time, however, the elf threw the whole window open, letting the cool sea air hit his face as he looked out over the markets. It was lit with those cool-toned lights, and there was that wonderful low murmur of people talking, making sure to be quieter since it was night after all. There were clinks of glass, gentle clashing of steel, and the occasional mewing of the cats that laid lazily around the city. It was comforting, a reminder that everything Rook had worked for with the Veilgaurd meant these people could go about and live their lives. It was humbling and gratifying to know he was a part of it.

     Rook was ready to pull away from the window, to get changed and head to bed, ready to rest up to surprise his lover in the morning but a flash of feathers caught his eyes down at the market stalls. He squinted a bit to see and as soon as he realized who he was looking at, he sprinted from the room, nearly forgetting to lock the door in his haste. The elf stumbled through the halls, apologizing to the group of people he had run through and usually, he would be far more eloquent with his apologies but all he could do was yell out a “Sorry!” Over his shoulder as he ran out into the street. On the way down Rook managed to calm himself into a brisk walk instead of a sprint, the markets too busy for him to be running like a child. He quickly made his way to the stall he saw from his window.

     There, with his back to Rook, hands on his hips, and head tilted to the side was the First Talon of the Crow’s, evidently deep in thought as he pursued the seller's wares of the stall he stood at. Rook noticed they were weapons, specialized daggers it seemed with the variety he saw laid out. A certain one caught his eyes, so he cleared his throat loudly which made the Crow in front of him pause. “I’ve heard Wyvren Tooth Daggers are good, I’d recommend it if you haven’t got one,” The Grey Warden watched as for a brief moment the other man tensed, before he very quickly spun on his heel to look at Rook. Their eyes met and, as it always did when they reunited, Rook’s heart thumped hard in his chest.

     He didn’t even get to open his mouth to talk again when Lucanis practically barreled into him, arms wrapping around his waist and the elf was lifted into the air as the spirit wings popped from the Crow, spinning the Grey Warden around as the other man buried his face into the crook of Rook’s neck. He couldn’t help the laugh he let out, especially when he felt a gentle inhale from the man’s nose. “You’re home,” A raspy voice said, it was happy in tone and the elf couldn't help but place a kiss on the man’s temple. “I am, Spite,” He said gently, giving a squeeze to the arms around him. He could have sworn he heard a quick purr.

     Then Lucanis looked up at him, face barely pulled away from his neck and Rook swore his heart turned to goop as those big brown eyes looked at him as if he was the only thing in this world. The elf placed his hands on either side of Lucanis’ face, pressing their foreheads together. “You’re here, you’re really here” The Crow said. Rook giggled quietly at the deja vu of his words. “I am,” He confirmed, opening his eyes again to look into the other’s brown ones. There was awe in his eyes, almost like he was in disbelief to be holding his lover in his arms again. That made Rooks hard beat in a much more pained way this time, so he just pulled the man in close, letting their lips meet for their first kiss they got to share in over a month.

     Kissing Lucanis wasn’t like the way the books Rook would read had described it to be. It wasn’t about sparks flying or this intense overwhelming feeling that would make his head spin. It was warm, all-enveloping but in this comforting way, the same one someone gets after getting home after a long stretch away. Safe and loving, it was something the Grey Warden never thought he was ever going to experience. Yet here he was, in the arms of the First Talon of the Corw’s no less, in the Treviso Marketplace with fingers digging into his waist and the lips of his lover so generously making up for lost time. Then the hands on his hips began to wander a little further up, playing with the buckle of Rook’s belt when he pulled away with a laugh, much to Lucanis’ disappointment. His pout was what some may call unbecoming of a Talon of the Crow’s but the elf loved it. “We’re in public,” He teased, finally straightening up enough so the two were standing, the assassin now a few inches taller than the elf again. He got another frown in return once again made him laugh, lifting his hand cup to the other man’s cheek who buried his face into it, Lucanis laid a kiss on the palm. “I am First Talon, I can do as I please,” He grumbled into the hand. Rook smiled up at him, placing a kiss on the man’s cheek, which he trailed to his mouth where they once again met in the middle, this time though he didn’t let Lucanis deepen the kiss as the Grey Warden pulled away, causing a very, very quiet whine to leave the human.

     “I have a room at the inn,” Rook said, nodding towards said inn which got him a hum of disapproval from his lover.“I still don’t understand why you don’t just come to the estate, we have plenty of room,” The crow mused, it wasn’t angry more curious than anything and the elf just shrugged. “You know me, I like humble sort of quarters besides,” He leaned in, placing a kiss on the earlobe of the taller man. “We’ll be alone,” It was a whisper; words meant only for the Crow. Usually, Lucanis would fight a little bit more about getting Rook to the estate, always saying how he felt bad how his lover felt the need to stay in an inn instead of his home but there was a look in the man’s eye that said all the elf needed to know. ‘You’re right, we’ll talk about it later,’

     They shared another kiss. This time when Lucanis pulled back, there was purple in his eyes and a vague sense of displeasure. “Why are we still standing here?” Spite asked in his choppy, unpleased way which only made Rook laugh, lacing their fingers together and pulling the other man towards the inn. “Ok, ok. C’mon before someone decides they need the First Talon,” He joked. There was a squeeze to his hand as the Crow followed his steps. “They will have to pry us away from you,” This time Spite’s voice and Lucanis’ seemed to overlap which made the elf smile. Even after saving Caterina, it was hard to get the two to agree sometimes but they always agreed about Rook. From wanting to pamper him to giving him their sole attention, they both just wanted him to have the best treatment they could provide. He was spoiled for attention by the two and he was more than ready to make up for the lost time in the month he couldn’t see them.

     As Rook guided his lover to the Inn, he could feel those eyes on his body but he knew it wasn’t a lustful stare at him, but those big brown eyes looking at him with reverence. If the elf were a betting man, he’d put all his money on the fact Lucanis was probably thinking something along the lines of “I am so lucky,” As he so often did when the two got together. When they passed the threshold of the inn, another squeeze came from where their hands were still intertwined. “To be yours,” A dreamy sigh. “I am the luckiest man alive,” The crow whispered, pulled the Grey Warden close for a moment, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his pointed ear. Rook had to laugh at that, a silent victory of knowing his lover so well as they continued to his room.

     Finally, the two made it, nearly running into a group of crows on the way (The same group Rook had barrelled through earlier, he had a feeling if they saw him with the First Talon in tow there would be questions so they chose to go all the way around). When the door clicked behind them, the elf found his hand dropped but very quickly he was crowded against the opposite wall, hands on his hips before he was spun around. Before he knew it, Lucanis practically attacked his neck with such vigor he accidentally bit down a little too hard. There was a yelp from the shorter man and the other apologized with a gentle lap of his tongue to the probably bruising love bite. Reflexively, Rook swallowed down his moan, letting his hands fall on top of where the other’s hands were. A growl came out. “I like your noises,” Spite spat at the Grey Warden. It was him who moved next as a thumb dug into his newly acquired hickey making him yell out in surprise. The answering chuckle was laced with both the demon and the man’s laughter, which made the elf huff. “This feels a bit like two-on-one,” He said softly, trailing his hands up the other man’s arms slowly, letting himself feel the elegant lines of his lover’s muscle arms through the First Talon’s jacket. He couldn’t wait till it was discarded away so he could get a full touch. “Spite wants you to know how much he missed you too, I think,” Lucanis mumbled against the elf’s skin, still buried in the man’s jawline giving a mix of the most body-worshipping, loving kisses with much gentler love bites in the mix. Rook laughed, feeling the sensation of his throat vibrating where his lover was pressed against. “Well I missed him too,” He said softly, with a teasing smile on his lips. One last kiss was placed on his neck before the other man pulled away, eyes half-lidded with a ghost of a smile on his lips, almost like he was nervous.

     “Did you miss me?” He whispered like he was afraid to speak too loud. Rook sighed, a dreamy, love drunk sigh as he pushed himself from the wall, standing up straight with a slight tilt to his head as he looked up at his wonderful lover. From this close, Rook could see the bags under his eyes though they weren’t as bad as they had been when the two had first met. Lucanis was now at least getting more consistent sleep though he once confessed in a letter that without Rook at his side, he found sleep elusive again. The Grey Warden understood that, he too found sleep hard to get without his lover’s arms wrapped around him. Sometimes he could swear he could feel something around him some nights, always joking to himself that it was Spite who managed to find him through the fade. Lucanis brushed Rook’s fallen bangs from his face. “Of course I missed you,” The elf whispered back. A grin formed on his lover’s face and very quickly, the two’s lips met again and unlike their last ones, this had a hunger underneath the exchanges.

     Hands began to drift, wandering with curiosity as the two very slowly made their way to the bed. Tongues met as the Crow spun Rook to be the one to sit on the bed, and bent down to continue their exchange as his tongue so lovingly lavished the elf with attention, mapping out the other man’s mouth like he was starved for his taste, or like Rook was going to vanish from his arms. When they pulled away, the Grey Warden chuckled as he trailed a finger down the other man’s neck. “I’m not going anywhere,” He promised. Lucanis paused for a moment, surprise on his face before he shook his head, climbing to straddle the shorter man, hands being placed at the base of his skull before the man pulled the elf into a much more aggressive, attention-needing kiss.

     Moans were enchanged, the vibration of them filling each other’s mouths and the subtlest moves of each other’s hips against the other. The two never moved very fast or aggressively when they had sex, it wasn’t a competition, it was supposed to be a shared moment in time between the two and they wanted to savor every moment of it. (There was also the two’s lacking experience but they knew each other’s bodies well enough now that it wasn’t an issue anymore) Especially after being away from each other for as long as they were, while they didn’t talk about it they simply understood this was meant to be an exploration of each other. To allow each other the touches that they have been denied by distance for a month. So when Lucanis pulled away, chest heaving ever so slightly as he tried to pull air into his lungs, he slipped away from his lover’s lap and began to work on his outfit to undress. For a moment, Rook simply watched with reverence, absorbed by the man’s skilled, dexterous hands undressing himself with the cunning that only a master assassin could wield. Temptation ate away at the Grey Warden and he eventually stood to join his lover, helping to remove whatever buckles and straps he could get his hands on.

     As the man undressed the two were in silence, the background of the Treviso market still there but turned to that low buzz in Rook’s ears. After a few minutes of this, the Crow stopped to kiss his lover, and the Grey Warden continued his work for him. Very quickly though, Rook found himself in a losing battle the the numerous buckles and ties. When a semi-frustrated curse fell from the man’s lips Lucanis chuckled at him before taking over once more.

     Finally, the main part of the outfit lay discarded to the side of the bed, leaving the man only in a long shirt and pants. Anticipation at seeing his lover’s body gnawed at him but when Rook reached out to the bottom of his shirt, Lucanis’ hands stopped him a teasing smirk on his lips. “Your turn,” Was all he said, nodding down to the other man’s outfit. A grumble of annoyance came from the elf and he stepped back, ready to start throwing clothes from his body but the other man shook his head, stepping forward to start working on removing the man’s shoulder pads. “Gentle,” He chided, eyes focused on the task at hand. The Grey Warden huffed but followed the instructions, working on undoing the other metal shoulder plating from its spot, both finishing at the same time and Lucanis took them in both hands, gently setting them on a nearby desk earning a laugh from the other man. “You throw your stuff to the side but treat mine so kindly?” Rook teased, accepting the kiss the assassin leaned down to give. What was supposed to probably just be a brief come-together became more slowly heated, once again Lucanis letting his tongue explore his lover’s mouth with great respect, the best kind of worship.

     When he pulled away there was a haze to his dark eyes but still, he continued his work, sliding the heavy jacket from Rook’s shoulders. “Your armor is an extension of you, I would never treat you unkindly, why would I treat what protects you so?” He answered with a murmur. Blood rushed to Rook’s cheeks as he looked away from the man, letting himself be moved so the other could pull the coat from his arms. “You and your words sometimes,” The elf mumbled earning him a breathy chuckle from his lover who just placed a kiss on the tip of his nose before he continued his reverence undressing. It was a slow process, the assassin so careful with each buckle undone and with each new piece he removed, he’d so gently place it on the desk, neatly organized for later retrieval. Rook glanced over to his lover’s outfit on the ground. “Well now I feel bad about yours,” He muttered with a bit of an embarrassed tint to his voice. Lucanis shook his head, pulling the thick gloves from the elf’s fingers, kissing his knuckles once the skin was revealed. “Never feel bad for me Rook. With you in my life I want for nothing, I have all I need and all I feel right here,” The words were so soft, that the elf could feel the move of his lover’s lips against his skin where he continued to kiss each knuckle, switching to the other hand once he finished with that one.

     Worship didn’t feel enough of a word to describe Lucanis’ actions but it was the closest the Grey Warden could think as he watched the crow continue to undress him and with every inch of skin reveal a new kiss was placed upon it. “You make me speechless sometimes,” Rook whispered like it was something he was afraid to admit. Usually, the man had a quip for anything and everything, always a smart word on his tongue and he was especially good at it at the beginning of his and Lucanis' relationship. He was the one to tease the assassin into a blushing mess, purposeful remarks to watch his ears turn a wonderful shade of red but now, Rook found himself at the mercy of his lover’s smooth words. Maybe Lucanis was getting lessons from Crows on wooing, maybe Spite’s influence gave him more confidence or maybe he just was more comfortable saying what was on his mind, no longer held back by nonexisting self-worth and belief he didn’t deserve the love Rook gave him. The elf hoped (and knew, truly) it was the latter. There was a hazy high that came with the thought that the First Talon of the Crow’s felt these things for him, and after all the two went through to get here, it felt well earned. There was a smirk on his lover’s face once Rook noticed Lucanis had been talking to him but the Grey Warden had been too absorbed in his staring and thoughts he didn’t even realize.

“Uh, sorry what was that?”

     The answered chuckle he got was low, as his lover shifted his focus to the chest plate, fingers caressing down his sides as he found the buckles. “No no, I want to know what is on your mind that has the indomitable Rook so flushed in the face,” The tease was playful, only worsening the elf’s blush as he squirmed under the touch of the Crow’s wandering hands. “I’m just glad you’re comfortable with me, to be like this,” Rook mused, humming when his lover leaned down for another kiss. When they pulled away, Lucanis had his chest plate in his hand, once again turning towards the desk to place it down. When he turned there was a gentle encouraging look in his eyes, trying to get the man to continue his thought as the taller man started on the Grey Warden’s belt and the sash under it. “You never hold back what’s on your mind, you didn’t use to do that when we first met,” Rook continued, watching his lover swiftly remove what he was working on, again placed with reverence. Lucanis had even folded the sash up. A hum came from the man as he turned back, now working on the ties on the long sleeves, lifting the elf’s left hand to his mouth, laying a kiss on the exposed wrist, and going up the arm with each new tie undone. The Grey Warden could only sigh under the attention, allowing himself to be moved however Lucanis wished.

     “You were very intimidating back then,” His lover whispered against his skin, which made Rook choke on a laugh only to earn a raised eyebrow in response. “You truly were,” The words were teasing but still honest, he could tell by the way the Crow so earnestly stared down at him even as he switched to the other arm, following his set pattern of untying and lavishing any exposed skin with gentle, loving kisses. “How?” The Grey Warden asked, voice quiet as he watched how in-depth his lover was with his administrations of attention. Nothing was left untouched, unloved. “You were and are, a whirlwind of force Rook. You shine bright, always managing to undo my clouds of despair and it scared me,” Lucanis explained in a soft voice, hands now wandering to the last piece on the elf’s body from his armor besides his boots, pants, and shirt. The elf chuckled, going to pull the last part off himself but the Crow stopped him, instead leaning in to lavish the other side of Rook’s neck with kisses and bites as he had done before. “I was holding onto my own clouds of despair then too,” The elf muttered quietly, letting his hands go to the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in closer. “Yes, and yet,” The words were muffled against Rook’s skin, each emphasized with another kiss. “You still helped with mine, and how lucky of a man I am that you did so,” Again, with each word a kiss was laid on the Grey Warden’s skin, going closer to the man’s ear. “For now, you are mine, and I need not ever worry of those clouds when I have you here to shine for me,” The words were whispered in his ear, Lucanis’ tone akin to a priest declaring the love for the Maker and how his kindness shines down on the people. It made Rook shiver, to bite down on his lip as he stopped a whine.

     A rough bite to his earlobe and growl spoke of Spite’s displeasure of him hiding his sounds again. “S-sorry,” The elf said quickly, turning his head to meet the lips of the demon in a way to apologize more thoroughly which pleased the spirit as he hummed into the kiss. When they parted, the brown eyes had a playful tint to them and the Grey Warden rolled his own with a giggle before tugging on his lover’s shoulders. “How much longer must I wait to see all of you?” His ask was akin to begging, and he knew he should have been more embarrassed but at this moment, a heated need began to burn in his gut. Desire made him impatient when Lucanis seemed to find more self-restraint in the throws of passion. (Until right before his peak, any restraint would leave the door as he finally allowed his emotions to overwhelm him) Thankfully, he was not feeling totally cruel as the Crow removed the last piece of the man’s armor, laying it on the desk before turning to face Rook again. He saw something on the elf’s face that made him smile fondly, which made the shorter man’s cheeks heat again.

“Sit on the bed, Amor,”

     The pet name was said very quietly, it was something Lucanis was still getting used to trying. He had once said he’d seen the way Illario threw them around when working for the Crows, how insincere they felt, and how the First Talon had developed a distaste for them. But through their letters, through their time together he started to understand the desire to call his lover these things. While still very hard, anytime he did, the rush that would run through Rook was like nothing else. No one had ever said things like that to him and Lucanis being the one to do it, both learning to use those terms together made it truly something special. Before he followed the instruction to sit on the bed, the elf pulled Lucanis down for another kiss, this time being the one to have his tongue slip into the man’s mouth, taking his time to explore what he could reach, lifting up to the balls of his feet to get a better angle. He tasted of coffee, of course. A resonating moan from his lover vibrated in his mouth and Rook responded in turn, making sure to make his noise as loud as he could. There was a rumbling pleased purr. With a laugh, the Grey Warden pulled away, leaving one last kiss on the assassin’s lips before he took a few steps back to the bed, sitting himself down and leaning back, having his arms on either side behind him to hold himself up. He basked under the eyes of Lucanis and Spite, one eye the man’s and one the demon’s as they looked down at him with a grin on their face. Once, Rook shied away from any sort of attention like this, it always felt fake, flawed in some way that made him feel like men only wanted his body, never with the Crow, this was different.

     Lucanis loved him, he loved Lucanis. They had these heady emotions for each other before ever having sex. It hadn’t important to either of them. They wanted these emotions between the two of them before that step and it just made everything so much sweeter, better. Were Rook delirious, impaired, and loose he would scream it from the rooftops of anywhere he could get to, talking about the overwhelming love he felt for the Crow to any poor soul close enough to capture his attention, and had they never had sex, it wouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t about that, it was about their love, their worship of each other through words, through emotion. But when they did have sex, it was unlike anything else the elf had ever experienced, a special raw feeling that Rook knew he’d never share with anyone else. He didn’t need to, he had Lucanis.

     The Grey Warden watched as the other man knelt down in front of him like he did all that time ago, right after they recused the elf from the gods prison. They stared for a long moment at each other, the assassin’s hands coming to rest on the smaller man’s knee, squeezing it. A question Rook realized, as the other man tilted his head. No words needed to be exchanged, this was what happened every time they did this, a question of consent, a chance to end things before they got too far. Lucanis would follow whatever the elf wanted, if he were to shake his head, the man would stand up, place a kiss on the other’s forhead then prep them for bed and the two could fall asleep in each other’s arms. That wasn’t what Rook wanted though. So he nodded, making sure to lean down to place a kiss on the other’s lips, in a way of saying ‘thank you for checking’ as he did every time.

     A hum vibrated against his lips as they kissed and when the elf pulled away, Lucanis' hands drifted to his boots, tugging it a little as a request to have better access which made Rook lift the leg slightly, to give the other man an easier time as he pulled it off. As reverent as with the other parts of the Grey Warden’s armor, he set the boot to the side, and when he turned back he lifted the ankle of the leg to his mouth, leaving a kiss to the bone that protruded out before setting it back down. He did the same to the other leg, boot off, set aside, ankle kissed, leg set back down. When the Crow looked back up, eyes big with love, Rook had to lean down again, kissing with more pressure to try to convey the feelings that welled in his chest. He tugged at the man’s shirt, trying to get him to straighten up which he did but before the assassin could straddle the elf, like he probably planned, the Warden stood spinning them around and then pushing the man so he was the closest to the bed but he shook his head when Lucanis asked if he should sit. As they kissed, Rook’s hands traveled down to the hem of his lover’s shirt and he paused, pulling back from their kiss.

“May I?” He asked quietly, to not break the spell that was over the two of them.

     There was no hesitation in Lucanis’ nod. Trying to match his lover’s moves, Rook made sure to take the process slowly, taking his turn to kneel in front of his lover and lavish his skin with every inch exposed as he pushed the fabric up. He didn’t miss the notable bulge in the Crow’s pants either but chose to ignore it in favor of exploring the skin he finally had revealed to him. As the elf followed up the man’s happy trail he added those love bites in between his kisses which earned a breathy moan from the other. When the Warden got to the man’s rib cage he made sure to press a kiss to each rib, making sure to get both sides as he trailed further up. When he passed the man’s nipples he made sure they also got attention, each earning a kiss and gentle bite which made Lucanis jerk a little, back arching as he let out a low groan. “Tease,” A raspier voice bit out which Rook chuckled at. He continued further up, Lucanis helping him finally slipped his shirt off and they stood face to face, chests nearly touching. The elf leaned up, being met halfway by his lover and when their lips met, Rook grabbed ahold of the man’s waist, digging his fingers into the fabric of the other’s pants as their kiss deepened. The Grey Warden made sure to let whatever noises he could slip from his lips the few times he and Lucanis parted as they continued to kiss, a pleased rumble came from deep in his lover’s chest.

     Eventually, Rook had started to tug on the man’s pants, eager to get them off but the assassin stopped him with a gentle press on his hands and a chuckle, nodding down to the elf’s shirt. The elf grumbled but simply took Lucanis’ hands, guiding them to the bottom of his shirt before letting his hands drop as the man finally grabbed it and started to pull it up. Unlike the rest of his body, the Crow decided to explore his torso with his hands rather than his lips, dragging his fingers up as he slowly pulled at the shirt. The Grey Warden couldn’t help but squirm under the feeling, the vague, light ticklish feeling of not enough to get him to laugh but defiantly something he felt. Especially when the man went over his scars from the blood magic he had used to transition, their sensitivity never really goes away. His very observant lover had realized that the first night they had slept together, cracking knuckles and outright cries nearly spooked the man but Rook had assured him, it wasn’t bad; just sensitive. Now that evil man knew just how to use the right touch to to get a gasp from the elf and the evil demon always favored it as a tactic too. Usually, they would gang up on the poor Warden to get a reaction. Today though, it was about the slow, gentle touches so while the Crow did give them attention, he kept his touches light, always just barely there, barely enough.

     “Now who’s a tease?” Rook asked, shakey huffs of laughter starting to come out as the touches that were just never enough, drove him slightly insane. There was a smirk on Lucanis’ face. He gave a gentle shush to the other man as he allowed his fingers to glide across his torso, no longer trying to lift the shirt off but letting it fall back into place, just now with his hands under it. With a rather dramatic huff, the elf went to grab the shirt himself but the hands on his torso quickly darted back out to catch his, purple eyes looking down at him. “No touch,” Spite growled rather ruthlessly but there was no fear in Rook, instead just an inpatient whine. “Then get on with it,” He said back, raising an eyebrow as he looked up, watching as one eye faded from the purple to see those blown open brown eyes, now just a thing ring around his dark pupil.

The Grey Warden swallowed hard.

     “Let us worship you, Amor, you deserve nothing less,” The words were so honestly spoken, his eyes were like that of a begging puppy as the assassin looked down at his lover. The elf squirmed under his gaze, wondering if this was how the taller man’s targets felt right before he would strike, that heady anticipation of something coming just around the corner. But unlike those people, he would get to keep his life, though probably not with his dignity intact. “Wouldn’t you rather worship all of me?” He tried to tease, he hoped his words didn’t sound as needy as they had felt in his mouth. Was he begging, he wondered? Rook honestly wasn’t sure, far too concerned with getting the rest of their damn clothes off than worrying if his desperation for his lover was obvious to said lover. The answering groan he got wasn’t what he was expecting but the Grey Warden had no complaints as his shirt was finally slipped from his body. When the elf leaned in for another kiss, he was temporarily ignored as the assassin folded his shirt ever so neatly and set it on top of Rook’s coat, making sure they were stacked neat and straight. With a quiet groan, the Warden took hold of the other man’s pants, tugging on one of the belt loops to get his lover’s attention. As the man turned to look at him, Rook rocked forward onto the balls of their feet again, accidentally knocking their noses together causing both men to giggle as the taller man rubbed his jokingly. They were still giving each other those big grins when lips finally met again, laughs turning at moans as Lucanis’ hands returned to exploring Rook’s body, and the elf decided to do the same to his lover. With every teasing dig of the assassin’s fingernail into the Grey Warden’s scars, the other would respond in kind by tugging on the other man’s body hair, not too hard but just enough to get similar noises to his own to leave his lover’s mouth. A few one-word exchanges went between the two as they did so.

“Tease,” Lucanis mumbled.

“Flirt,” Rook whispered.

“Temptress,”

“Enticer,”

“Gorgeous,”

“Handsome,”

“Amor,”

“Schatz,”

     With each word, muttered against each other’s lips, their hands wandered lower and lower till both held the waistline of each other’s pants, one gentle tug away for each into being naked. Lucanis was the one to pull back, taking in a quick deep breath before pressing his forehead to his lover’s, Rook sighed dreamily at the view of the other man. A few moments passed as each man tried to gather their breaths. “Do you wish to continue?” The assassin asked in a whisper, eyes trained onto the Grey Warden’s, probably looking for any form of hesitation in the man. At first, the elf just nodded but when the grip on his pants didn’t change he realized he was going to have to voice his desire to continue so he cleared his throat, trying not to focus on the lingering taste of coffee that had been filling his senses since reuniting with his lover. “Please, let’s please keep going,” It was begging, through and through but Rook found he couldn’t care. Especially not when the other man finally pulled his pants off and let them fall to the floor, a shiver running through the elf as the wetness between his thighs was exposed to the air, colder than the heat of his body and the heated head of his hardened clit. He squirmed around as he adjusted to the air, reaching for his lover’s pants so they could both be in the same state on undress but of course, he was stopped by the other man.

     Rook defiantly didn’t let out a swear, and he didn’t let out a whine as he was denied. Lucanis leaned down to kiss him before he continued to go down, gently pushing the elf back so he would step out of his pants and so the Crow could pick them up. The Warden didn’t think much of it until a snarky, raspy huff came from him as the man straightened back up. He looked down to see what Spite was planning but his body involuntarily jerked up when a puff of air was blown rather cruelly against his sensitive clit, the little stimulation still enough for a full body twitch. “Bastard!” He whispered in a high voice as his head was thrown back, eyes squeezing tight as he tried to ignore the oversensitivity of his body. It had been too long since he last had been with his lover if his body’s reaction was anything to go off of. The answering raspy chuckle was a tease in itself, Rook swore as his nerves seemingly sparked at the sound, trying to shake his head as if he could shake the sensation from his skin. Hands cupped his hips and purple eyes met his as the demon leaned in, the kiss the two of them shared much more aggressive than anything with Lucanis. For a moment, the hands now on his ass, tightened, just barely pulling the elf’s cheeks apart much to his surprise before they very quickly stopped and pulled away returning to his hips.

     The taller man pulled away from the kiss with an annoyed sigh, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Spite and you need to learn some patience,” He joked. Rook smiled up at him, sliding his hands back down to the other man’s pants. “Or someone needs to hurry up a little,” He joked back, the elf hooking his fingers into the assassin’s waistband and mustering up the biggest, pleading eyes in a bid to finally shed his lover of the last of his clothes. Lucanis smiled down fondly before he nodded, laughing at the Grey Warden’s excited whine as he finally got to push the man’s pants down. Rook let himself moan out freely as he watched the man’s cock jut out, head swollen red with neglect and precum slick at the tip of it. It was gratifying to see the elf wasn’t the only one so affected by their rather extended foreplay.

     The shorter man took a step so the Crow could kick his pants away before quite nearly rushing him, pulling him down into a kiss, and crowding him to the bed. His lover hummed, the vibration of it rattling in Rook’s mouth making him moan as he pushed the assassin to the bed. He took a brief moment to admire the scene before him, Lucanis’ big brown eyes swimming in lust and black, his cock standing proud in between his legs where they were spread, ready to receive Rook however he wanted. Different possibilities began to go through his head, it almost became overwhelming the number of ideas he came up with as this innate desire to make up for lost time caused him to overthink. The assassin must have noticed something was off because the Warden found himself being pulled into the other man’s arms, his chin resting on the elf’s upper stomach as he looked up with those eyes. “Slow, let us take it slow Amor,” He whispered. There was an assurance under those words, an unspoken ‘We’ll have more time,’. It was a promise Rook knew Lucanis would keep.

     So the elf nodded, taking a moment to calm his racing thoughts and heartbeat before gently pulling away from his lover only to kneel in front of him and his proud standing cock. A hand found its way into the Grey Warden’s deep red hair, not pulling or tugging, just sitting there like reassurance. Rook shuffled forward till he could comfortably reach out for Lucanis’ dick, legs somewhat already aching from the long days he had been doing but the elf ignored them, this was more than worth the burning thighs. The elf hesitated for a short few seconds, as he always did when it came to this, fear of inexperience always managing to creep up on him during these moments. The hand sat in his hair tightening, just a little, making Rook look up at his lover and what he saw made any worry melt instantly. When he looked up, the shorter man saw the other man’s spirit wings were out and unfurled, one eye purple then the other darkened brown, and this look of pure admiration from both the man and demon. They looked down at Rook as if he was the most beautiful single object in the entire world. As if nothing else in this world mattered except for the here and now, with Rook kneeling at their feet ready to please.

     With renewed confidence, the Grey Warden reached out, wrapping a hand around the base of the man’s cock as he leaned in, giving a single swipe of his tongue to the slickened pre-cum head. A happy purr rumbled out the Crow as he threw his head back in ecstasy, this time Rook wasn’t sure if it was Lucanis, Spite, or both but was happy to have caused such a reaction. He continued his gentle lavishes on the man’s dick, hand never straying from the base as he went up and down the shaft leaving one kiss after the other in a very similar fashion to what his lover had down to the elf’s body as he was undressed. It felt good, to be able to give the same attention to the man he adored, especially with the moans tumbling from the assassin’s mouth, all those going straight through the elf. He knew he leaking on the floor himself and tried to squeeze things together to get some relief. It didn’t do much but make a moan fall from his lips. The vibrations against Lucanis’ dick made the taller man throw his head back again with a much louder groan this time, the hand in Rook’s hair tightened for a second before the Crow realized and he loosened it again but didn’t pull away. He knew the Warden needed the comfort of his touch even as pleasure began to overwhelm the assassin. Very carefully, Rook leaned in and began to take the man’s cock into his mouth, the pace slow and controlled as he sunk to about halfway on his lover’s cock before pausing to get his bearings. His eyes fluttered as he tried to get a look at the other man’s face and nearly choked when their eyes met. How Lucanis still managed to have those damnable puppy eyes while being pleasured was a mystery to the Grey Warden.

     Rook took in a few breaths through his nose, getting ahold of his nerves again as he started to move further down his lover. He managed to take in another inch before deciding tonight was not a night for attempting to deepthroat, so he brought his other hand up to wrap around the remaining length. The assassin hummed, an appreciative noise that the elf could swear he felt in his bones. Neither man was partially good at dirty talk, still too relatively new to sex to add it so instead they would encourage each other with noises, and gestures while also making sure to check in with one another. “Alright?” Lucanis asked in a breathless tone, heavy breathing coming once he managed to squeak the word out. Rook nodded, or as much as he could, before fluttering his eyelids as check-in back to the other man, and the answered chuckle he got was playful, teasing. “I am wonderful Amor,” The Crow assured, hand coming down to wipe away some drool that had started to leak out the side of the Grey Warden’s mouth.

     After a few minutes of letting Rook adjust, which was a great show of the assassin’s self-control as his hips never moved, not even a little, the elf began to move. A slow pull back off the man’s cock before just the tip of the head remained in his mouth before going back down in a smooth movement of back and forth, with his hands getting what his mouth couldn’t reach. Lucanis, ever the gentleman, used his self-restraint as a master assassin to never let his hips jump or jerk while his lover pleasured him. It was wildly impressive, especially as the growing blush on his cheeks started to travel to his ears and his chest which was just a show of how much the man was enjoying it. There was one particular moment where Rook thought he had got the man to lose some of the restraint, as the moan he got on the way down at one point was shakey, very loud as it echoed through the room. A smirk found its way to the elf’s face as he remembered the open window. People probably heard that, and while they didn’t know it was the First Talon of the Crows, the shorter man sure did.

Talk about a power trip.

     Lucanis didn’t falter though and his hips remained firmly planted on the bed, never forcing his cock deeper than what Rook was taking in. Ever the gentleman. The Grey Warden did one last move down, taking as much as he comfortably could, to hear the other man cry out again before he pulled away, giving a lick to the red tip as he did so. Something was whispered under the Crow’s breath and the elf was fairly certain it was something along the lines of “Tease,” but he let it be, the ache between his legs starting to take more precedence than his smart mouth. He leaned back for a moment, spreading his legs just enough so his clit was no longer being rubbed by them to give himself a moment of respite. Rook felt the man’s eyes on him and he knew, with a prideful smugness, his lover was looking down at his wet cunt. The Grey Warden smiled under the attention, spreading his legs just a little further to allow his lover a better look who whimpered once he did, eyes shining with a glint that the shorter man knew all too well. He shook his head, which earned a displeased, confused sound from the Crow, who tilted his head in curiosity at the man’s silent refusal. “Not tonight,” Rook reasoned that as much as he would love for his lover to eat him out, something Lucanis did very well, this had gone on long enough, and while he was ok with slow, he needed the other man in him now.

“I want to ride you,”

     It was said in a low tone, a pleading tone that was whiney in a way, desperate. The responding moan he got in return had him squirming as his clit twitched at the sound. The hand on his head moved to be in front of the Warden, out reached to help him to his feet which Rook graciously accepted. Once he was standing, hands made their way to his lower thighs. “Allow me to prep you, Amor?” It was a kind ask, and probably to Lucanis a simple gesture to continue their foreplay but the elf shook his head, placing his hands on either side of the Crow’s face and tilting his head so they could kiss, slow. When he pulled away, he pressed their foreheads together. “I don’t need it,” He reasoned, shifting as he felt just how wet he was. Lucanis frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you,” The man reasoned back, brow furrowed down in worry. Rook gave a breathy laugh as he moved to kiss the worried wrinkles on his lover’s forehead away. “You won’t, I’m uh…” He cleared his throat with embarrassment, his cheeks heating up as he tried to say the words. “I’m wet enough,” The Grey Warden eventually squeaked out, having to fight against his eye’s desire to squeeze shut to hide away from his lover’s caring eyes. But he knew if he did that, it would just worry his lover more so, the elf fought himself to keep eye contact. Though, it had worked as Lucanis’ eyes fluttered for a moment at his words and a shakey sigh came from the man. Pride rushed through Rook.

     When his lover looked at him, he just nodded before clearing his throat to speak again. “How do you want me?” The Crow asked. Rook pulled away from him for a second, pushing aside from fallen hair from his face. “Like this,” He answered, climbing into the lap of his lover. The happy noise that came from his chest was Spite and the demon took over for a moment so his hands could wander down to the elf’s ass again, giving it a squeeze which made the Warden laugh. Lucanis joined after a moment, the two coming together to kiss even as their chuckles and giggles entwined as their lips touched. As they kissed, Rook reached down, wrapping his hand around the base of the other man’s cock again before guiding it to his cunt. The hands on his ass tightened as he teased the head against his pussy, his own wet slick mixing with the other man’s pre-cum, adding to the mess already between the elf’s legs. Not that he minded.

     With a slow intake of air, Rook finally guided the head in and started his slow descent down the man’s cock. While the amount of slick from both of them helped, the no prep slowed the Warden into needing to take every inch as slow as he could. It was a consistent pace, never really stopping but it was paced so as not to overwhelm the shorter man. To Lucanis’ credit, he didn’t move again, just letting his lover take his time in sinking down on his cock. He rubbed circled into the elf’s hip bones, laying kisses on the shoulder he could reach and while no words were exchanged, with each kiss Rook could feel the praise he was thinking. ‘So good, you’re always so good for me,’ They said as he kissed up and down the Grey Warden’s exposed skin. Unable to say his own words, the shorter man just sighed, continuing his way down as his way of saying ‘And you are good for me,’. About halfway down the man’s dick, Rook had to pause, his legs giving a full shake at the tension of holding his body up the way he was. A curious sound came from Lucanis, another check-in Rook realized. He made sure to nod, as reassuring as he could and he smiled down at the other man, giving his squeeze to the man’s shoulder as his check-in. The Crow returned the smile and nodded as well, tilting his head up as he silently asked for a kiss which the Warden graciously returned.

     Slowly, but surely, Rook continued his descent down as the two continued to kiss, the burn of the stretch a bit uncomfortable but it was starting to fall away as his walls began to flutter around the man’s cock. Both men let out equally loud groans when the elf finally got to the base of his cock, the stretch once again hitting uncomfortably as the Grey Warden squirmed at the pressure. Lucanis' breath hitched as he did so and Rook placed a kiss on the shoulder he was leaning over as an apology. “Are… A-are you alright, A-Amor?” Even through what must be overwhelming heat and tightness, the taller man’s main concern was for his Warden which in turn made the shorter man’s heart melt. “I’m o-ok, just need to g-get used to it, a-are you…?” Rook couldn’t continue as he let out another moan, his body’s nerves alit with what just felt like ‘Lucanis, Lucanis, Lucanis,’ His lover gave a hum, turning his head so the two men’s lips could meet in a kiss, a quick exchange of tongues where the coffee taste on the Grey Warden’s tongue, that had been melting away, was returned in full force. A perfect bitter dark blend, one that just encapsulated the master assassin just so. When they pulled away, there was a wide smile on the Crow’s face. “With you in my arms again, I want for nothing in this moment,” He answered with full clarity as if he could now so easily handle the cunt wrapped around his aching cock, if only to make Rook’s head rush with a heady mix of love and the need to be fucked by his lover, right now.

     But, slow and steady was the name of this game today so instead he just sighed as he leaned into the side of the First Talon, peppering kisses and bites down his jawline to the muscles in his neck. The hands on his hips continued the comforting circles and Lucanis made sure to give the elf as much access to his body as he wanted, moving in whatever way made things easier for Rook. Always the thoughtful one. So the Grey Warden decided he deserved to be rewarded for his kindness and slowly began to squeeze around the man’s cock, basking in the sound of surprise that came from his lover. The groans that came from the Crow were heavenly, who needed the Maker when Rook had this angelic moment right here? The look of the man too, his head was thrown back, his eyes closed and mouth open slightly as he let his noises loose from deep within his chest. Who needed the Golden City when the elf had this man in a way no one had ever seen and no one would ever see? Eternal afterlife had nothing on the throws of passion with the man Rook loved with his whole body, mind, and soul.

     “Y-you alright Amor?” Lucanis’ voice came through the Grey Warden’s thoughts and with a few blinks he realized he had paused halfway back down the man’s cock. Big brown eyes looked at him with concern and the shorter man could see that the other was about to lift the elf off but he slid down the rest of the way, both men giving loud moans in response to the sudden pick-up in pace. But the thought was being empty after all that was much more devastating than Rook cared to deal with. The assassin looked taken aback, but pleasantly so as his lips opened to let another sound out, that’s when the Warden saw the shiny spit starting to fall from his mouth. He leaned in to lick it away, letting their tongues tangle for a brief moment before pulling away. “I’m amazing, how can I not be when I’m here with you,” They weren’t as sauve as the Crow’s words, pleasure always did seem to dull the elf’s tongue but his lover didn’t care as he brought his hands up to pull the shorter man down into a passionate kiss.

     Rook’s arms slid past the taller man’s neck as he leaned further into the kiss, the vibrations of their moans making his head rush with heat. Had the air in the room always been this warm or was it just the two of them? The elf could see his lover was shiny with sweat, his hair slicked down with it and the tips of his ears were a bright red along with his cheeks. Rook knew he couldn’t have looked any better. If he looked even half as overwhelmed as he felt, well, he was glad there was no mirror for him to see his state of being right now.

     When he pulled away from his lover, the Grey Warden placed one last kiss on the tip of his nose before finally starting to move on his cock again. Hands returned to his hips, this time helping the shorter man gain a soft, slow pace, a languid move of up till just the tip was left then a slow descent down till he was full to the brim again. This went on for a little while, the up and down, exchanges of loving kisses and nips as they returned back to the slow pace of their lovemaking. Then, on one of the ups, Rook purposely squeezed as he got to the tip of the man’s dick and the resounding moan he got told him all he needed to know but the twitch of Lucanis’ cock was helpful in itself. The man was close and that meant, he was also very close to his composure breaking.

     Rook felt a bit cruel when he pulled completely off his lover and the whine from the assassin was so pitiful, so sad but as he climbed off the man and saw those eyes look up at him he knew it was a good choice as very small tears forming at the very corners of his eyes, so it was only a matter of time. “Back on the bed Schatz,” The elf said in a quiet tone. There was a nod before the other began to push himself back till his head hit the pillows waiting for him and the Grey Warden followed suit, climbing onto the man as he hovered over his cock for a second, simply looking down at his beautiful lover’s overwhelmed state. Purple eyes appeared. “On,” Was all Spite said, brow furrowed as he looked between his aching cock and where Rook hovered over him. The shorter man snorted, perhaps Lucanis had been right about Spite needing to learn patience but that was a thought for another day. Instead, the elf leaned down and sealed their lips together before once again sinking on the man’s dick, a very pleased growl rumbling in between their intertwined lips once again. Rook would never tire of the feeling, especially how it always seemed to send sparks through his clit, which was throbbing rather angrily from its lack of attention but he ignored it, he had a mission after all.

     When the shorter man pulled back, those brown eyes were back and they were bigger than ever, slightly more tears gathered. It seemed the Grey Warden would have to work harder to push his lover over, not that it was an issue, Rook rather prided himself as an expert on the man’s body and knew just how to get what he wanted. So, with their eyes looking deep within each other’s the elf started to move again, this time picking up the pace ever so slightly, letting it go to a smooth transition of up and down instead of pausing at any point. More strangled breaths came from the Crow and he had attempted to bite down on his lip, probably to hide his whines but Rook used his thumb to swipe against the man’s bottom lip. “I want to hear your noises,” He whispered, making sure to lean in close so Lucanis could feel the words against his skin, to feel the impact of his Warden’s plea. Immediately the man’s mouth opened, moans and groans filling the room once again much to the elf’s delight. The shorter continued his pace, adding the occasional squeeze to hear his lover’s breath hitch in his throat, to watch his eyelids flutter and see more tears gather. Then, Lucanis spoke.

     “Amor, I-” Oh yes. Rook knew that tone, the breathy sigh that cut himself off, and the look in the assassin’s eyes. “Don’t hold yourself back Schatz,” The elf implored. “Let me see you, all of you,” As he spoke, the Grey Warden sunk down and squeezed tight, and that was all Lucanis needed.

     Instantaneously, the tears that had been gathering in the man’s eyes flooded down and hiccuping breaths filled the room as Lucanis just sobbed with emotion. Cries interminably interrupted by gasps as Rook began to ride faster, still at a medium pace to not overwhelm his lover too much but enough to keep the tears of the man flowing. The first time the two slept together, this hadn’t happened. It was still wonderful of course, a memory the elf cherished close to his heart but when they had saved the world and finally got a moment alone, this had happened. It was much faster the first time they’d experienced it, one moment the Crow had been fine and then the next he was sobbing as he had come down the Warden’s throat. Lucanis hadn’t even a moment to register what had happened by the time the elf got to him, in a panic to make sure he was ok but the taller man assured him he was fine. Both had chalked it up to being an outburst of all the pent-up emotion, especially after defeating the gods. So when it happened again when the assassin had slipped inside the Grey Warden’s cunt, they concluded that maybe it was just something Lucanis does.

     And boy were they right, every time since, a little before the man would orgasm, the Crow would break down into a mess of sobs and babbles of his love for Rook. It was incredible to watch the man he loved so much, the stoic semi-stiff with emotions First Talon dissolved into a mess of tears and barely lung-filling gasps. It was also hot, of course, knowing that just his mere being alive was what would get his lover to that state, it was a bit of a power trip. Now was no different, Rook watched with slightly masochistic glee as Lucanis’ tears streamed down his face, big eyes staring up at him with some much love and devotion. How lucky of a man the Grey Warden was, to have this, to be like this with such an amazing man. He voiced as much. The gasp he got in response made his evil grin deepen, now came the next best part.

     “Lady luck has nothing but grace for me if I can have you, like this to myself,” His words were shakey, interrupted by the occasional gasp of air as Rook continued to ride his dick but the Crow was determined to say his piece. “For I know nothing can compare to you Amor, I used to think a demon like me deserved nothing but now that I have you, I know that is not true. I must be one good man for someone like you to have looked at me and chosen me,” The elf nodded in agreement, keeping his noises quieter so he could hear the declarations of his lover who so graciously spoke his words. “There is no one like you, I am indeed a lucky man to have you in my arms, on my cock, in my life, making every day I have with you full of color, of light,” Rook would have laughed were he not in the middle of moaning, feeling as his lover’s hips finally jerked up, the self-restraint finally washing away to give away to something harder. “No one else will ever have you like this, what a lucky man am I to be gifted with such a prize,” Another jerk of Lucanis’ hips came as the Grey Warden let out a swear as it hit the spot where stars flickering in his vision, making his clit give a hot, red anger throb which caused him to choke on a gasp. Even in this state, the Crow was ever vigilante of his lover’s pleasure and so, through the tears he managed to get his hand to reach down and press to Rook’s clit. The slick between the two of them was everywhere as the assassin's fingers were slippery when he touched the man which made him cry out, back arching and hips jerking for more. He heard a dreamy sigh come from the man under him. “I will never tire of this, of you, of us. I will spend my life showing you how much I love you, how much I adore you and I will make sure the world hears of our love,” Hiccuping breaths made the words somewhat hard to hear along with the blood rushing from the elf’s head down to where the other man was rather ruthlessly touching. Rook tried to say something in return but all that escaped him was a gambled mess and with one more expert slide of the fingers on him, the elf calmped down on Lucanis’ cock as he came. He hadn’t even realized he was so close.

     Either from watching his lover cum or the sudden squeeze around his cock, the assassin followed his Warden over the edge letting out a significantly louder cry than his other noises had been as his back bowed. The two stayed in their taunt positions for a long couple of moments, breaths coming rapidly from both men, and muscles tensed and tightened. The elf felt the warm slosh of cum trickle out of his cunt when the other man shifted his hips slightly, causing both of them to moan at the overstimulating sensation. Lucanis was still hard, he usually was after only a round but he always gave Rook time to come down, to avoid the nerve zaps the shorter man usually got after cumming. Finally, the elf took in a deep breath before he collapse down onto his lover, the man’s dick still buried and more cum trickling out with how he had moved but he buried his face into the crook of his lover’s neck, taking in the smell of his sweat and now distant cologne. And of course, that underlying smell of coffee.

     As the Grey Warden began to come down from his high, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the words his lover had spilled as they reached their peaks. “I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you,” felt like a quote in one of the romance books Rook secretly read, the kind of words before an important, 4-word question was asked. He couldn’t help the giggle at the thought of it. How funny. There’s no way that’s what Lucanis had meant but…

     “What is it, Amor?” The very man asked, a smile in his voice as a hand came up to thread his fingers through the elf’s hair. Rook leaned into the touch, humming dreamily at his lover’s soft touch, his eyes fluttered close as he buried his face deeper into the taller man’s neck but still he answered. “Just thinking about what you said,” He said, words somewhat muffled against the skin of his lover. “Ah, I hope nothing… offended,” The Crow sounded embarrassed, he always said he never had control over his babbling while in that state, just saying whatever words he was feeling deep in his heart. How he didn’t know what that did to Rook was beyond the elf, to drive your lover to the point where they would just babble about how much they loved you while crying? The best feeling, if the Grey Warden was to be asked about it. “Never,” He reassured his lover, placing a kiss on the skin he was pressed against. “Flattered if anything, it sounded like a proposal honestly,”

     Almost immediately, both men tensed at Rook’s words as they were taken aback by what he said. Even the elf himself hadn’t been expecting to say those words. Anxiety immediately riddled the shorter man, how could he have said that stuff so… so casually?! That was supposed to remain a thought in his head, he wasn’t the one who babbled whatever was on his mind. The Grey Warden felt awkward as his lover was still stiff next to him, the hand in his hair nearly a tight grip. He wanted to pull away, to laugh and call it all a joke but if anything that felt worse, to dismiss it as nothing but sex talk would be a disservice and insult to his lover. Instead, he took in a shaky breath and spoke up. “Lucanis?” He asked, still too afraid to move from where he was buried safely. There were a few moments before the man responded, each passing second causing more and more tension to build in the shorter man.

“Do you mean it?”

That… hadn’t been what Rook had been expecting.

     He finally decided to lift himself, to look down at his lover and was meant with those damn big brown eyes but the elf could swear there was a… sparkle in them.

     “Lucanis…” Rook found himself breathless, speechless at the intensity of their eyes there. The other man sat up, wrapping his hands around the Warden’s waist, and very slowly began to move his hips up his cock, then down when he got halfway. A strangled gasp forced its way from the shorter man. “If it was a proposal,” Already, tears were starting to form in the corners of the assassin’s eyes. “What would you say?” The question was borderline desperate and the Grey Warden found his thoughts messy as at the same time, Lucanis began to thrust up into his cunt and a hand wandered down to the man’s clit, rubbing soft circles to the tip causing sparks to go through the him. It took him a few tries to speak again.

“Do you want it to be?”

     Immediately, the First Talon gave a desperate nod, eyes big as he watched his lover as if he would disappear at any moment. Rook opened his mouth to respond but right at that moment, the other man pressed down onto his still-sensitive clit making him arch his body with a ‘Ah!’. The motion made the man’s cock hit right at the perfect spot and Lucanis definitely caught on and he began to abuse that spot with talented calloused fingers. How was the elf supposed to answer his question when the Crow was so insistent on giving mind-blowing pleasure?

     Luckily, Rook was a stubborn man, one who never backed down from a challenge. So he ground back down on the man’s cock, basking in the strangled moan his lover gave. More tears gathered in his eyes, and the way the drool fell from his mouth, he was close to breaking again. The Grey Warden leaned down, pressing their foreheads together as he started to move his hips to the rhythm the Crow had set. “Ask me again, ask me properly,” He hadn’t wanted to sound so desperate, so close to begging but honestly, Lucanis was the one person he was fine seeing in this state, to be seen as this vulnerable. Not that the other man was any better, tears had now started flowing down his cheeks again and it was obvious he was trying hard to stop himself from just babbling again, brow furrowed in thought as he continued to move the elf on his cock and probably trying to collect the words he wanted.

     “Caspian Rook Thorne,” The Warden was surprised to hear his name, causing his walls to flutter around the man’s dick which made him groan but still, he kept moving. “Leader of the Veilgaurd, savior of the world, friend to Wardens, Watchers, Veil Jumpers, Lords, Shadows, and Crows,” Their moves slowed to an agonizingly slow pace but it was because Lucanis wanted their eyes to steady as they stared at each Rook realized. Both stared up blinking at each other. A smile formed on the First Talon’s face, one full of love and admiration. It was so soft, so full of emotion that it made the elf dizzy.

“Will you marry me?”

     It was Rook’s turn for tears to fall, he hadn’t even realized he had been so close to crying until he already was. What did he care though? His lover just proposed to him, of course, he was going to cry. “Yes,” He whispered, “Of course, I’ll marry you Lucanis,”

     A whirlwind of things happened next, the Crow finally let himself break out into a series of babbles. This time, it was thank you’s over and over and over again as he picked up the pace of his hips and fingers. The Grey Warden let out a cry as pleasure began to build in his stomach once more, being pulled taunt behind his belly button, an intense build of up, up, up. His lover, his fiance, only encouraged him with words and pressure against his clit. “Come for me Amor, please Caspian, let me feel you come on my cock and know that you will be mine forever,” Rook nodded, trying his best to voice how yes, the elf will be Lucanis’ for the rest of entirety but pleasure made his tongue dead weight in his mouth so he could only let out unintelligible cries. The taller man’s cock felt amazing, the picked-up pace going in and out, the smooth glide against the walls of his fluttering cunt, and the force behind every thrust made him feel earth-shattering pleasure. Before he could warn his lover, Rook’s body tensed and he came with a very loud cry, his entire body going taunt as this orgasm just took everything. He was vaguely aware of the rush of wetness forming in between his legs but he had no time for the usual embarrassment that happened when his body gushed like that, the elf just got engaged.

     Engaged not only to the First Talon of the Crow’s, not only to one of the members of the Veilguard who saved the world but to Lucanis Dellamorte.

     The elf felt another gush of warmth in his body, realizing it was the other man cumming in his cunt with a cry of his own, tears going down his face that Rook leaned down to kiss away. Beyond a few twitches of their hips, the two had stopped moving and just sat, Lucanis soften cock keeping his cum deep in the elf, though he would have to pull out at some point, Rook hoped it wouldn’t be anytime soon. The two sat in silence for a while, tears continued to slowly go down the Crow’s face so the Grey Warden would kiss and wipe them away, softly, lovingly. There was a blissful smile on the taller man’s face, almost like he was high. It was adorable.

     Eventually, the Warden decided it was time to get up as his thighs were beginning to go from a reasonable burn to an ache that would make it hard for him to walk for a few days if he wasn’t careful. As gently as he could, he let the other man’s softened cock slip from his cunt, both groaning from the loss. The hands still on his hips helped guide Rook down onto the bed, laying him on his back. Lucanis leaned over above him, giving a love-filled kiss before slipping away to the attached bath presumably to get some towels to wet and wipe the two down. The Crow was ever the gentleman to his partner in their aftercare. All the Grey Warden could do was lay back on the bed, simply basking in the aftermath as well as the knowledge that he was engaged. A day full of wonderful surprises it seemed.

     When the assassin returned, there was a damp towel in his hand as well as a small drawstring bag that he put on the nightstand. Rook gave a curious sound as he looked over at it but Lucanis simply kissed him whispering “Later,” against his lips which the elf nodded at. The First Talon began to wipe his lover down, following each swipe with the towel with light kisses. His Warden watched him through half-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of his and the other man’s love-bitten body the sweat that still shined on the Crow’s body, and how his hair was mused from when he was laying on the bed. Rook let out a soft giggle which caught the other man’s attention. He gave a questioning hum as he smiled up at his lover. The Grey Warden returned it. “My fiance is a beautiful man,” He answered the unasked question and smiled wide when the assassin gave a choked sound before his grin became wide on his face. “You’ve already fallen into using that so easily, I’m flattered,” Lucanis said, tossing aside the towel when he was satisfied he got most of the fluids that were left on his lover’s body. Rook was certain he left the cum in his cunt on purpose.

     The elf gave a devious smile as he leaned up, putting his hands around the Crow’s shoulders to pull him close. “Just wait till I get to say husband,” Rook teased, which got him a “Mierda,” and a nip to the lower lip before they began to kiss, slow and loving. The Warden went to pull the other down with him so they could lay together but the taller man stopped him for a moment, reaching over to the nightstand with the drawstring bag. The shorter man watched with curiosity as Lucanis undid its string. “I’m not sure if you remember, but when we met with Tiea and Viago after they discovered that Caterina was alive, it was because of-”

     “Your mother’s opal ring?” Rook interrupted, staring down at where the other man had pulled the ring from the bag somewhat surprised that the Crow had it. “Will you take it?” Lucanis asked quietly, holding it in his hand with worry that this was maybe Rook rejecting the offering. The elf stuttered for a second before managing to form his words. “Oh Lucanis, I can’t… That was your mother’s! And isn’t it Caterina’s?” He asked though he reached out to caress a finger down the beautiful old ring. The jewelry was worn but in a ‘seen a lot of life’ way, it was still absolutely stunning, the opal itself not faded whatsoever, seemed to still shine so beautifully bright. It truly was a gorgeous ring. “She gave it to me when I returned home to take over the First Talon duties, I didn’t understand why at first but…” Rook watched his lover's face morph from confused to a look of realization and the elf reached out to squeeze the man’s arm. “What’s wrong?” He asked, unsure of what conclusion was just made but ready to support whatever the Crow needed. He was surprised to see when Lucanis looked up at him there was a pink tint to his ears. “I think she gave this to me to propose with, and I… didn’t realize,” Lucanis said, an embarrassed tone to his voice that try as he might not, the shorter man had to giggle at as he reached his left hand out. “Well, in that case, I would be honored to accept it,” Rook said, getting a wide grin from his lover as he carefully and thoughtfully slid it onto the Warden’s finger. It fit surprisingly well, almost perfectly actually. The elf kept to himself that he was certain Caterina somehow got his ring size with whatever methods the former First Talon probably had hidden in her arsenal.

     “Now I understand why Illario was giving me all those strange looks,” Lucanis sighed, leaning forward to kiss his lover before wrapping his arms around the shorter man and spinning them so that they were lying down, Rook on his chest. The Grey Warden chuckled as he looked down at his ringer finger admiring the beautiful jewelry now adorning. “Antonie and Evka are gonna be happy for us,” He mused. Lucanis gave a low chuckle.

“Just wait till the rest of our friends hear,”

“Bellara and Neve are gonna have a field day with the news,”

“Davrin and Taash are probably going to try and give us “Fiance sex advice”,”

“Emmrich will probably offer us grave plots next to each other in the Necroplis,”

     Rook moved from looking at the ring to looking up at his lover. He wasn’t surprised to see purple eyes looking down at him, full of fondness. “Rook will be ours forever,” Spite’s words were smooth, for once, and the look in his eyes was so full of love it was easy to forget he was a demon. Not that it mattered to Rook. “Yes, Spite,” He leaned up, sealing their lips together with a kiss. “I’ll always be here with you,” When he reopened his eyes, it was the big brown ones staring at him, with the biggest grin on Lucanis’ face. “And me?” He asked playfully, a tease but still waiting for an answer. Rook chuckled, leaning up to place a kiss on the tip of his lover’s nose. “You can’t get rid of me, even if you tried,” He joked. “I would never,” Lucanis responded, brushing a bit of bang from the elf’s face. His hand wandered down, index finger tracing won’t the opal of the ring on his finger.

“I love you Caspian, I don’t think I can be away from you for such a long time again.”

“I love you too Lucanis. Wherever you go, I’ll be right beside you,”

After two and a half days, two nose bleeds and a snowed say, I have finally finished this fanfic lmao

I didn't have a beta reader so if some stuff is wrong (especially spelling of names and just words in general) I apologize and will work to fix it asap.

I'll also put the Ao3 link again here if you want to read it on there! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day! -<3 Skunch

[e-rated-beardo]

A happy post about comments and "book clubs" and reading fanfic

Just wanted to share this, because I periodically see these posts on my dash about leaving comments on AO3 (important; DO THAT) vs talking about fanfic "in secret" – ie where creators can't hear; in private fanfic "book clubs" or what have you – and my point is that this DM about essentially that happening made me very happy.

Because of course people will talk about what they're reading in private spaces where creators aren't present. I don't want anyone to go thinking the problem lies in conversing with your friends. The problem is only when the creator never hears about people loving their work, and ends up feeling isolated and unappreciated.

Getting this message meant four things to me:

A bunch of people really like my story. (😊)

They're talking about it where I can't hear (neutral fact of life) and it was theoretically possible that I would never know about it. (☹️)

But now I do know about it! (😊)

As a bonus result of their talk, I'm likely to get new readers! (😊) (I've actually noticed a bunch of new comments on the first few chapters lately, and this explains where some of that might come from. Knowing that is also very nice, tbh.)

I guess the moral of this lazy sleepy twixmas afternoon post from my dad's living room sofa is, that if you find yourself talking excitedly about a fic with your mates in your Discord, consider making a point of telling the author, either via DM or in a comment or wherever you can think of! Tag authors when you rec their stuff (if you know their handles)! And actually, if you find a fic through a rec and you like it, I recommend mentioning the rec in a comment, because "found this based on recs from xyz"-type comments give me a lovely fuzzy feeling, and I can only imagine the person who recced you the fic would be chuffed to know you liked it, too. (I'm shit at this by the way, because I'll click links and leave fics open in tabs for ages before I read and then I'll have forgotten how I found it. But if you're better at remembering than me, please mention.)

(Also, goddamn, the fact that my fic is so interesting that people want to talk to their friends about it? Are you kidding me? BEST compliment!)

Thanks @bellisima-writes for the messages btw ❤️

[the-acid-pear]

Dave and Steven's relationship is so fucking mental literally THE toxicest of yaois 💥

[snekdood]

if you take someones outdoor cat i will break into your house and steal all of your cats, hope this helps! xoxo❤️💋😘

[abyssalpriest]

God I could and should write a whole fucking book by the end of this life here on Lev and his symbols

ill write it then burn it before anyone else gets a copy. or i wont. im supposed to be helping him this incarnation here to get a better anchor in this plane so maybe it would help more than itd be weird - im just getting from him the energy of "yeah no people already effectively have these things, people on my plane already know me inside and out to an extensive degree, may as well have it here too" you know. fair

[smolbeandrabbles]

Me, reading this fic:

I ran out of tags! 🥲 It’s been so fun to read your work! 🥰 Especially of the certified Best Boy™️

I can’t wait to read more 💚

Dance with me? (Roronoa Zoro x f!reader)

Summary: you try to convince Zoro to dance to a slow song with you.

A/n: okay so i love dancing. And i love Zoro. So i thought: why not have Zoro dancing?! And then this idea came out 🤣 it's kinda short, just cause i wanted to write down this scenario ajskajakja i hope you like it though 🩷 this was slightly inspired by Selena Gomez's Body Heat. This song isn't as slow as the song i imagine them dancing to in the fic but the lyrics fit sooo well 🤭 also let's pretend there's a band playing at the Baratie lmaooo

Warnings: drinking, swearing, maybe ooc Zoro (i just had to get this man dancing yk ajskajksja)

"We're connected by the sun

And all of the stars above

You melt me and my body feels no shame

And I don't care tonight

If it burns too bright

'Cause, baby, that's why I came"

You were at the Baratie celebrating after very a successful mission!

Luffy and Usopp were inside eating as much as they could (like always lol) and you were outside watching the band play and the people dance.

Sitting with you and sharing drinks, there were your best friend Nami and your crush Roronoa Zoro.

Yep, you were crushing on the moss haired swordsman ever since you joined the straw hats.

You thought about confessing to him several times, but you were really afraid of being rejected and making things awkward at the Going Merry. No, you couldn't risk that, not when you loved your crew that much.

What you didn't know is that the pretty swordsman felt exactly the same, even though he tried to fight that feeling everytime you flashed your beautiful smile at him.

yeah two idiots secretly in love with each other oh well ajskajskaj

The three of you were just relaxing and drinking when the band started playing one of your favorite songs. It was a slow and romantic song that touched deep into your heart.

- oh my gosh, i love this song - you closed your eyes and started swaying to the beat. It felt wonderful.

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol making you brave or if you just couldn't stand hiding your feelings anymore, but you turned to face Zoro and you were so certain of what you were saying even he was a bit surprised.

- come on, dance with me - you said, very sure of your words.

- what? No. I don't do "dancing", (Y/N). - Zoro replied, crossing his arms and looking away, knowing very well that if he kept looking at your beautiful eyes he was going to give in at some point.

- please, it's just one song... i can lead you - you said almost pleading.

You approached him and put your small hand on his strong arm (yep, the alcohol definitely was making you brave). That's when he couldn't resist anymore and turned to look at you.

- please, Zoro... for me?

The way you said that and tilted your head slightly to the side made Zoro feel something deep inside of him he never had felt before. How could he say no to you?

He rolled his eyes:

- okay, okay... but just one song. Make it quick.

You were so happy you nearly jumped out of your seat.

- yay!! It'll be short, i promise. Let's go! - you said clapping and happily standing up.

He got up too and you grabbed his hand to lead him to the dance area. Yes, you just grabbed the Roronoa Zoro's hand and pulled him with you. Maybe it weren't the drinks, maybe you were just really determined to be with him ajskajskaj

When you got there, you started giving him the directions.

- okay, you have to put your hands here - you grabbed both his hands and placed them on your waist. The touch was so soft and intimate it made your whole skin tingle - and i go here - you placed your arms around his neck.

You could feel he was still a bit suspicious about the whole thing for how tense his muscles felt, but you decided you were going to make that a good time for both of you.

- hey, you're tense - you said softly - just... relax, okay? I know it may seem scary but dancing is supposed to be fun. You don't have to be a pro to enjoy it, just... feel it. It's just you and I having a good time together. No pressure at all.

Little did you know Zoro wasn't feeling nervous because of the dancing. Well, maybe a bit (he had never done that before ajskajskaj), but it wasn't the main reason.

He was nervous for being that close to you. God knows what he could do being so close to the girl he had been crushing on for so long.

You ran your hands through his shoulders and arms, trying to calm him down and feeling his strong muscles slowly relaxing under your touch.

- now you just focus on the beat and move along. When i move right, you move right. When i go back, you go forward. Just... feel it and enjoy - you said kindly and you started moving with the song.

You both moved smoothly through the dance floor and it felt amazing.

- see, it's not that hard. I'm sure you've faced bigger challenges than this one, pirate hunter - you emphasized these two words in a mocking way.

That made him chuckle and look down, feeling a bit shy.

Yes! You made him laugh 🤩 you loved knowing you were the one to create such cute sight.

On the other hand: fuck, you made him laugh 💀 everytime he smiled it made you weak on your knees and you couldn't even think straight.

That's when you closed your eyes and rested your head on his chest, while you both just moved along to the beat. It was such a blissful moment, dancing to a song you loved and sharing it with a person you loved too.

Being there with him, enjoying the beat, feeling safe in Zoro's arms... you felt like you could live in that moment forever.

When you lifted your head and looked into his eyes again, it was like the rest of the world disappeared. There was just the two of you, holding each other and sharing loving looks.

You were so close and you could feel his eyes staring at your lips. You took that as a sign.

You cupped his cheek and slowly went in for a kiss.

Was that really happening?! You wanted to pinch yourself to check if all of that wasn't actually another delulu dream of yours.

But it was real. You could feel it.

The kiss was soft and sweet, but also full of emotion.

When you parted you were blushing madly so you just hid your face on his chest again and went back to dancing. This time you could feel he laid his head on top of yours too and that made your heart so warm. And that's because you didn't know he was enjoying it so much he had his eyes closed too, or else you would have exploded.

You knew at some point later you and Zoro would have to discuss feelings and stuff, but at that moment all that mattered was enjoying now.

You stayed like that for another few seconds until the song ended and everyone started clapping at the band. You and Zoro parted and smiled at each other. crap there was that pretty smile again

- see, you nailed it! - you said playfully punching him - thank you for coming with me, it was so nice. And i kept my promise, short and quick - you chuckled.

- yeah... now i kinda wish it lasted longer though - he said trying to look away to hide the small blush that was on his cheeks. Now besides smiling!Zoro, you also had him blushing?! It was definitely a dream.

You hooked your arm in his and led him out the dance area.

When you were going back to your seats, you saw Nami staring at you with a smug face. Damn, was she watching the whole thing?! Prepare for teasing in 3, 2...

- what a show, huh? - Nami said smirking and raising her eyebrows.

- shut up, Nami - Zoro said nonchalantly as he sat down and crossed his arms again, with that "100% done" face of his to try to hide the faint blush that was still on his cheeks.

You just chuckled and sat down for another drink, still feeling the bliss of that amazing moment you had just lived.

And you know what, the night was just beginning. Who knows what else could happen 😉

"Let's go all night

Just you and me

If you're the flame, I'm kerosene"

[adimilkys]

“Your ex has never made you what?”

Sylus x reader 18+ MDNI

cw : smut, f!reader, overstimulation, p in v, stomach bulge, oral (f receiving), no protection (wrap it before you tap it), petnames, biting and probably more

synopsis : after telling Sylus you "aren't able to orgasm" because you never did with your exes, he proves you very wrong

author's note : wrote this after work, idk how because I'm literally dying so there may be a lot of mistakes lol also english isn't my native so if you find and spelling mistakes whoops

You've been dating Sylus for over a month now, it's been an... interesting ride for sure. You're over the kissing stage and teasing, but you've never talked with him about sex- well until tonight.

"If you're not comfortable we don't have to, kitten" he whispered in your ear, you were both laying in his bed, you on top of him as he scratched your head.

"It's not that I'm not comfortable... it's just embarassing, Sy" You buried your face in his chest, he raised his eyebrow at your statement. "What's embarassing?"

At his question you buried your face deeper in his chest, knowing that you have to tell him either way. "I... just can't..." you mumbled

"You can't what, kitten? Come on, tell me."

"I-I can't orgasm..." he was quiet for a few seconds, before letting out a laugh. You raised yourself up from his chest, a pout on your face. "I'm serious, Sy!"

"And why do you think you can't orgasm?" He asked, gripping your waist. "W-Well everytime I got intimate, I was just never able to come-"

"And you think that's your fault?" He raised his eyebrow, looking into your eyes, making you look away with flushed cheeks. "Well yeah, I mean it's always me who can't cum" he grabbed your chin, making you look at him again.

"Sweetie, it's those pathetic men that couldn't make you cum" He started kissing your face, making you even more flustered "But-"

"Do you want me to prove it to you I can make you come minimum 5 times right now?" You stared at him with wide eyes, Sylus wasn't the one to break his promises, but you decided to play along.

"Hmph... All talk no action-" And with that, he slammed his lips on yours, capturing them in a messy kiss. He swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for access to your mouth. When you smirked, not opening your lips he bit it, making you gasp as he forced his tongue inside, immediately wrapping your tongues together.

You let out a moan, his hand sliding under your (his) shirt, squeezing your breasts. As you pulled your head away to breath, his lips continued assaulting now your neck, sucking, kissing and nipping on it- leaving many marks.

His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, revealing your tits "So fucking pretty" he whispered before latching onto one of your nipples. "S-Shit... Sylus-" you buried your hands in his hair, slightly pulling at it making him groan.

After being satisfied with the amount of marks he left on your breasts, he kissed down your stomach, lower and lower until he reached your shorts. "Tell me, kitten. Has someone ever eaten you out?" He raised his head up, staring at your face while you shook your head.

"Tsk... you've been messing around with immature boys, not real men sweetie" he said before sliding down your shorts right with your panties. "Such a pretty pussy, s'wet, all mine" with that he immediately dived in, groaning at the taste of your juice.

You moaned out his name loudly, one of your hands leaving his hair and now gripping onto the sheets. Your legs tied around his head. He sucked onto your clit, his tongue doing wonders. His hand moving to grab your thigh, squeezing it (probably leaving marks as well)

"Feels- so good!" You whined, throwing your head back as one of his fingers entered you, his fingers were so much bigger compared to yours (Which they also couldn't make you cum)

He followed that up with his second finger, stretching you out. Your moans were getting louder and your walls clenched around him. "Sylus! I- Ah!" you cried out before arching your back, letting out a silent scream as you came on his fingers and mouth, your eyes rolling back as you saw stars.

All your release ran down his throat, licking his lips before getting up from between your thighs. You were trying to catch your breath, your chest moving up and down.

"What did I tell you, sweetie?" he leaned down to your ear, nipping at it, "Four more to go" you shivered at his words, his hands grabbing your legs and raising them until your knees were touching your chest.

"Now relax f'me..." he grabbed his member, positioning it at your entrance, you didn't even realize he had taken his clothes off and oh

he was huge, thick too. Your eyes widened at his size, which he of course noticed, letting out a chuckle. "Worried I won't fit?" before you could even say anything, he pushed the tip in, knocking your breath out of your lungs.

Your nails digging into his back, he groaned at how tight you are "Sy..." You whined at the stretch, suddenly his fingers pinched your clit, the pain of the stretch and pleasure of his fingers made you scream, once again- making you climax.

As you were panting he continued his torture on your clit, pushing himself in even deeper, not even halfway in but making you feel like he's in your lungs.

"Fuck... Three more, kitten." after a bit more pushing, he finally bottomed out, you were already so cockdrunk, feeling all of him, every twitch and vein. He waited a bit, making sure you adjust before moving.

Starting off slow, making sure you feel comfortable, he looked at your face, sweat rolling down your forehead, hair stuck to your face, tears rolling down your cheeks, eyes closed shut and mouth hanging open as you moaned.

You looked so fucking beautiful, he lowered his head, hand grabbing your chin as he slammed his lips on yours, not wasting any time as his tongue entered and explored your mouth. His thrusts speeding up, your moans getting louder.

Suddenly, his cock hit your sweet spot, making you gasp. He smirked at your reaction, angling toward it, making sure to hit it again, again and again. You sobbed, biting your lip as you felt another ogarsm coming, clenching around his member.

"shit shit shit- Sy-Sylus!" you screamed as you came for the third time, already feeling so overstimulated. "N-No more- I can't-" You begged, whining.

"Shhh... two more sweetie" He wiped your tears away, leaving kisses all over your face. He suddenly pulled out, making you gasp as he flipped you onto your stomach, not wasting any second- slamming right back inside you.

"FUCK-" You gripped the pillow, burying your face in it, muffling your moans. His brows furrowed, groaning as he gripped your hips, pounding into you.

"W-Well, none of that sweetie, I want to hear you-" He chuckled, pulling you up so you were on his lap, his chest pressed against your back as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

Your head was hanging low, that's when you saw the huge bulge in your lower stomach disappearing and reappearing over and over. You were barely holding up with his pace.

His mouth once again started attacking your mouth, hiding his own sounds as he was getting closer himself, the way your pussy was clenching around him felt godly. The way your tits bounced, the way drool was dripping from the corner of your lips.

"C'mon... two more..." it was insane how many times he was able to make you cum. With his fingers back on your clit, you threw your head on his shoulder and with a cry you came once again, the only reason you haven't fallen forward being that Sylus is holding your waist.

Within a few thrusts, he came too with a choked moan- filling you up with his warm cum.

After catching his breath, he pulled out, flipping you on your back once again, you barely lifted your head, looking at him with confusion written on your face.

"One more... or maybe two more?" He smirked, going back to your cunt with his mouth.

requests are open, feel free to send your prompts

[flowersforbucky]

down bad

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.9k

author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”

“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.

“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.

“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.

“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”

“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”

“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.

“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”

“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”

Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.

Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.

“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”

“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.

“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.

Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.

“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.

“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.

“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.

“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.

“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.

“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”

“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”

— — — — —

One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.

What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?

You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–

“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.

You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…

Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.

“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”

“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.

“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”

“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.

There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.

“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.

To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.

“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.

Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.

“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”

If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.

“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.

“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.

“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”

“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.

You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.

Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.

You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.

You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.

The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.

You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.

“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”

“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.

Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.

“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.

“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.

“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”

He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.

“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.

“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”

Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.

He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.

At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”

“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.

“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.

You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.

“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.

He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.

His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.

His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.

If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.

“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”

“I say show me the way.”

He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.

Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.

He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.

The very last door opens without a hitch.

Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.

Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.

You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.

He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.

You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.

He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.

You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.

He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.

You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.

“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.

You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.

You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -

“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”

His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.

He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.

“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.

You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.

You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.

He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.

He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.

God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…

Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.

You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.

His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.

“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.

It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.

When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.

“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”

“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.

He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.

It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.

“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”

You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.

You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”

You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.

Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.

♡♡♡♡♡

i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭

as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!

my masterlist

[misswynters]

Headcanons: Sevika as your partner

Sevika as your lovely partner (lesbian wife)

warnings: nsfw themes below the banner, fluff

She will 100% be loyal to only you and take care of you.

Sevika has a soft side that she only shows around you. She’ll deny it if anyone else mentions it, but you catch her looking at you with a gentle, almost protective gaze. She’s not always good with words, but her actions (ex. making sure you’re comfortable) speak louder.

Sevika’s naturally protective and will go out of her way to take care of you in small, endearing ways. She’ll remind you to drink water, make sure you’re eating enough, and will even get a bit grumpy if you neglect yourself.

Behind closed doors, Sevika loves it when you lean into her or snuggle up on her shoulder. She’ll casually drape an arm around you while watching something together, or pull you onto her lap when you’re alone. The moment anyone else is around, though, she’s back to her gruff self.

After a long day, Sevika loves just lying in bed with you, talking about anything and everything. She rarely opens up, but at night, she’s more vulnerable and lets you in on her thoughts and memories of growing up in the Undercity. Those quiet moments are when she’s the softest and most open.

Sevika has learned a few recipes over the years and will occasionally surprise you by cooking a simple but delicious meal. She loves watching your face light up when you taste her food, and even though she’d act nonchalant, it clearly makes her happy to see you appreciate her cooking.

Sevika has a secret stash of pet names just for you, like “sweetheart” or “love.” Her voice goes a little softer when she calls you by them, and she usually tries to keep them reserved for quiet, intimate moments. But you’ve caught her murmuring them under her breath more often than she realizes.

She tries to keep up her tough exterior, but sometimes you catch her doing little things like gently brushing a stray hair from your face or adjusting your clothes to keep you warm. When you point it out, she just grunts and tries to change the subject, but it’s clear she’s letting her guard down with you.

Sevika gives you these soft, almost awed looks when she thinks you’re not paying attention. It’s as if she can’t believe someone as sweet and kind as you has a place in her life, and she’s quietly grateful for it.

Sevika knows how to take charge, and she’s not shy about it. Whether she’s guiding you with a firm hand or whispering orders into your ear, she makes it clear that she’s in control. She loves seeing you respond to her authority and takes pride in knowing you trust her to lead.

She doesn’t flaunt it, but Sevika can be a little possessive. She’ll wrap an arm around you in crowded places, keeping others at bay with a glare. When she’s with you, she makes sure everyone knows you’re hers without saying a word. There’s something reassuring and thrilling about her subtle displays of ownership.

Sevika exudes a quiet confidence that makes you feel safe and wanted. She’s incredibly attentive, learning every little thing that makes you melt and using it to her advantage. She’s slow and thorough, making sure you feel every touch, every kiss, knowing exactly how to leave you breathless.

Sevika loves taking her time. She knows exactly how to make you flustered with lingering touches and meaningful glances, enjoying every little reaction. Whether it’s a hand on your lower back or a low whisper in your ear, she’s a master of the slow burn, watching your anticipation build until you’re practically begging for her attention.

Her voice drops an octave when she’s in a dominant mood, each word wrapped in a tone that sends shivers down your spine. She knows the effect it has on you, and she’ll use it to her advantage, murmuring softly but firmly as she takes her time with you, savoring every moment.

Sevika may be strong and powerful, but she’s also incredibly careful with you. She holds you with a gentle firmness that makes you feel secure, as if she could shield you from the world. Her hands move with precision, every touch deliberate, giving you the perfect balance between strength and tenderness.

Sevika is unafraid to give you all her attention. She watches your reactions as you take her, focusing on what you need, and isn’t satisfied until she’s sure she’s left you thoroughly happy and exhausted. It’s an intense, almost possessive attention that makes you feel cherished and adored in a way that leaves you craving her touch.

Oh! also she has a playful side to her dominance, often teasing you just to see how much you’ll blush or squirm. She loves making you flustered with a smirk, reveling in the way you react to her touch or voice. It’s her way of showing her affection and keeping things light-hearted even when she’s completely in control.

Like in my previous writing, she’s into biting! it don’t matter where you bite her. on her shoulder, hand, etc. SHE WILL ENJOY IT!! (trust me!)

Her favorite positions (with strap) would be the mating press and missionary. If it’s a quickie then i’d say standing up. AND 69. can’t forget about that. She be eating you out more than you would. Absolutely wild

Using a hexcore strap whenever she wants to, though there could be an occasional switch where she would ask you to use it on her. Especially when she’s feeling lazy.

taglist: @444fernz @kylorey25 @prentisslove @lilfroggyy @kissyslut @ab2ysw1fe @xxblairslairxx @cestlaprincesa

banner: @cafekitsune

[drchucktingle]

a moment to check the gears and cogs

feel like i want to talk a little on the message of a recent post because i think it is an important point. when i say that you do not need to QUALIFY OR DEFEND your love of tinglers or my work in general, i am pointing out an interesting social anomaly that happens with my art and with queer art.

as an autistic buckaroo i notice patterns, and on social media i see them a lot. little phrases that come up again and again with my art. ‘yes THAT chuck tingle’ ‘its ACTUALLY good’ ’my favorite author i have never read’ ‘so bad its good’. these are always added after a POSITIVE comment about me

they also all have something in common. they are trying to distance the posters SINCERE JOY and give them an out socially. it is very very very subtle, but they are all saying ‘yes i like this but here is a sliver of acknowledgment that it is also weird or bad or ironic. in not REALLY fully in'

essentially these are added because it means the poster can escape their very real joy if needed. try applying these phrases to any other popular author. its much more subtle with the first two: ‘i liked all fours by miranda july, yes THAT miranda july. its ACTUALLY good’. what does this imply?

the other examples are a little more blatant but lets try them with other authors anyway. imagine saying ‘youre my favorite author i have never read’ to stephen king. would you EVER say that to someone? what does that imply? how about 'i love your books theyre so bad theyre good'. horrifyingly rude

lets dive into saying 'CHUCK TINGLE is my favorite author i have never read’ sounds unusual when substituting other authors because theyre usually not queer or autistic or making outsider art. to be blunt, why CHUCK gets it all the time is because it really means 'i like chuck tingle but im not gay’

while we have mostly culturally evolved past the idea that saying ‘no homo’ is some kind of joke, that FEELING is still around. it has just burrowed a little deeper. honestly it might never go away, or at least take centuries. remember these people GENUINELY LIKE MY BOOKS but feel they MUST qualify

should also be pointed out that LEFT and LIBERAL people are the ones who say this stuff to chuck. they do not MEAN to harm, and if you ask them directly how they feel about queer or neurodivergent people they would not express the same opinion as their subliminal comments might imply

the final elephant trotting by is while some of this is homophobia and fear of a neurodivergent other, it is also just plain old IRONY POISONING. its conditioning from being raised on an internet where sincerity was ‘cringe' and loving something was a weakness or joke. these problems work in tandem

so whats the point? what can we do? first of all, just recognizing these patterns is a start. i didnt HAVE to write all of this today but i think its important to be aware and to look inward and think about the gears and cogs that churn behind the things we say. NEXT step is trying to push past it

if you have done these things in the past, i want you to know i am NOT AT ALL UPSET. i am not mad or hurt and i do not think any less of you. you can trot by my side any day and you are trying your best to prove love. we are ALL just tryin our best, just consider this a friendly chat between buds

proving love can happen in BIG WAYS and it can happen in SMALL WAYS that we barely see. just take a moment and think ‘WHY am i saying this? WHY am i in this pattern to distance myself from outsider or queer art?’ a little moment of consideration goes a LONG way buckaroos. LOVE IS REAL

[aperrywilliams]

A Bit Rougher (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: You and Spencer have been in a relationship for a little bit more than four months now, and the team doesn't know. One day, the BAU girls ask you by your mystery partner they know you have - even if they don't know who it is - and bring up a topic you are not so sure to share with Spencer yet: your kinky side in sex. What happens when the same Spencer puts a test on you on that matter?

Word Count: 6.5k (I'm not sorry)

Warnings: SMUT/18+/MDNI. Where do I start? Reader sleeps with Spencer (obviously). Talks about sex life. Mentions of tantric sex and rough sex. Mentions of some kinks like choking, spanking, and dom-sub dynamics. Clothes get ripped, Spencer calling you 'my girl' (oh God), masturbation (f receiving), fingering, kind of choking, dirty talk. Spencer does his best as a dom (soft!dom because it can't be any other way), penetrative sex, spanking, begging, more dirty talk, creampie (it really doesn't exist another word for this?), and aftercare. Spencer is the best boyfriend in the world. If I forgot something, please let me know.

A/N: This one was a request. I can't find the original message, and I don't know if the person who asked wanted their name here (I can quickly add it if they want to).

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The moment rays of sunlight peek through the curtain and hit my face, I turn to my back to avoid them, not ready to fully start the day yet.

Still half awake, half sleepy, I can feel a pair of hazel looking at me. I peek one eye open, and I see Spencer smiling at me.

"Good morning, beautiful," he rasps. And I don't know why such simple words have me blushing like a schoolgirl. Beaming, I return the greeting.

"Morning, handsome."

I get my reply with a lingering kiss on my lips, which I fully savored until a sudden thought came to me.

"What time is it? We need to get up."

Spencer, with his calm voice, shakes his head.

"It's a bit early yet. We have time. Also, you have some clothes here, so you don't need to go to your apartment before driving to work."

Smart me for bringing clothes to his apartment. It's an obvious decision, though, considering I have spent more nights here in the past weeks than in my place.

A devilish smirk makes an appearance on my face.

"So, we do have time, don't we?"

"Yes, sweetheart. We do," Spencer mumbles, scooting closer and peppering kisses on my face and then down to my collarbone.

Oh boy, this is what I call a good way to start the day.

-

How much time can you fool a bunch of the best profilers in the country, hiding your relationship with one of your coworkers? Spencer and I keep the count. The mark is set now in four months and two weeks.

It's not that we are embarrassed by what we have or anything close to that. It's just that things started so casually and naturally, and they're running so smoothly, so we want to keep it to ourselves as long as we can.

And by now? It's working.

We have also been careful about it. On our first nights together, we woke up early and went home for a shower and a change of clothes. After some weeks, we started to pack extra in our go-bag. Now, we have at least a change of clothes in each other's places. The second rule is never to get to work at the same time or on the same transportation. Spencer usually takes the metro even if I can drive and make time in the parking lot. Just one day, we did it, and we were so worked up in our making out session that we almost got caught by Morgan, who parked two cars away from mine.

Naturally, any form of PDA at work is completely off-limits. That's the toughest rule to follow. After all, we spend more time at the office and on the road than we do at home, so avoiding any kind of touch is definitely a challenge.

Despite all that, I can't help but feel happier every day as I fall deeper for Spencer. I often feel like a schoolgirl with a crush, constantly distracted by thoughts of him. Clearly, my behavior hasn't gone unnoticed, at least not by the three girls cornering me right now in the BAU kitchen.

"So, are you going to deny you're having fun these days?" Emily teases me while JJ and Penelope giggle in agreement.

"Where did that come from?" I say, intentionally diverting my gaze to the mug I'm filling with coffee.

"It's just basic observation, my dear," Penelope chimes in.

"Basic observation? I honestly don't follow you guys at all," I reply, feeling a bit overwhelmed by this unexpected Tuesday morning interrogation. This time, JJ steps forward with her evidence laid out right before me.

"We have all noticed the changes in you over the past few months—the giddy smile that lights up your face when you read a text on your phone, the new pep in your step, and how you hurry home every time we finish a case. Do I need to say more?"

"Busted!" Garcia points a mocking finger at me. I roll my eyes in fake annoyance. After all, they are completely right.

"Okay, okay. Yeah. I'm seeing a guy. Happy?" I confess, and Garcia squeals.

"Yay! We need to know everything about him."

Oh. That's dangerous territory.

JJ notices my discomfort and tries to ease it a bit.

"Penelope, I'm sure we'll know more with time. Right?" JJ looks at me, and I nod appreciatively.

"Okay. But the basics. Is the guy good?" Emily asks. A silly smile appears on my face.

"Of course he is. He's caring, fun, always attentive-" I'm about to start a rant about how my mystery man is perfect. But Emily's snort stops me at mid-sentence.

"What?"

"Emily is asking if he is good in bed!" Penelope clarifies, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Oh, Lord. What have I got into?

"Are you really expecting me to tell you about my sex life?"

The three girls nod in unison with no shame. Well, I guess I got my answer.

"Like if you haven't done it before. And for what it is worth, we all have said something about it more than once. That's why we created girls's night in the first place," Emily points eloquently, as always.

Touchè. They are right. I have said more than I would like to admit about my sex life. But now it's not that simple. We are talking about Spencer, even if they don't know it yet.

"Then? Is he good or not?"

I contemplate my answer not because I don't know what to say but not revealing more than necessary.

"I don't think good is enough to describe sex with him. The first time we slept together was amazing. The whole night was if you know what I mean. Since then, we have taken our time, savoring the moment, giving, and receiving a new part of ourselves when we do it. So, yes, sex with him is more than good."

"But it could be better," Garcia interjects, and I look at her baffled.

"How's so? Didn't I just say the sex is great?"

The three women nod in agreement, but I think I'm missing something here.

"Don't take it the wrong way, my lovely. We are really happy you are having fun and enjoying yourself," Garcia says, patting my shoulder. "But it sounds pretty vanilla to me. And it's not bad! Not at all!"

I frown, and Emily rolls her eyes, continuing Garcia's idea.

"What Penelope tries to bring here is what we talked back then about your last partner. Remember? The one who liked tantric sex?"

Oh. Yeah. I remember that one. It's not one of my finest choices, if I have to be honest. But it wasn't the guy's fault.

"Yeah. What about him?"

"You forgot how you complained about him being basically a statue? That you wanted it rough, and the guy never got the memo?" Penelope fills in, arching an eyebrow. My cheeks are flush crimson right now.

"I can't believe we are talking about this in the office kitchen," I mumble, embarrassed. "But that was different."

Emily scoffs. "What? Did you change your kinks now? What happened with the choking, the spanking, the begging, and all those things?"

"Emily Prentiss, can you please shut up? This conversation is too much for a morning in the office," I complain, shaking my head to try to cool my red face.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop. But if you are still into it - and I'm sure you are - maybe it's a good idea to share it with your partner. Healthy sex life and all that, so it doesn't happen what it did with the tantric guy."

"Well, thank you all for your concern. But I think I'm good. Now, can we please drop the subject?"

Luckily for me, the girls listened and changed the topic. By the time we leave the kitchen, I feel less embarrassed and ready to continue my paperwork.

But the conversation kept popping into my head from time to time during the day. My sexual preferences haven't changed 180 degrees, that's true, but with Spencer, it's different. I wouldn't want to bring something like that up if it's going to make him uncomfortable. Our relationship is still fresh, and I'm happy with our current sex life.

And talking about Spencer, I haven't seen him the whole morning. By the time lunchtime arrives, he doesn't come back to his desk, so I go with the girls and Morgan.

When we come back from lunch, I finally see him at his desk, concentrating on a pile of files. A smile creeps in my face. He looks so damn good with the crocked tie, messy hair, and shirt sleeves rolled up his forearms. This man has ruined me just sitting there. I'm doomed.

"Hey," I call his attention, and he turns his head to look up at me.

"Hi," he returns a smile.

"I haven't seen you around in hours. Are you okay?"

A frown appears on his face, but he brushes it off quickly.

"Me? Oh, yeah. Fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's just Hotch that had me checking and analyzing a pile of boxes with folders from old cases in the store office. That's all."

It makes sense. Spencer's fast reading is a blessing and a curse, and obviously, people tend to use it often in the office.

"I'm sorry, sure it wasn't a very entertaining task."

A shy smile creeps on his lips, and I have to use all my self-control not to pounce on him right now and pepper his face with kisses.

"It's okay. I'm already done, anyway. How has been your morning?"

"Oh. Mostly paperwork. As everyone. But I think I'll be done soon, too." Before continuing, I check my surroundings to ensure nobody else is listening. "Maybe we can go home early?" I suggest seductively.

The flush in Spencer's cheeks is endearing. It's like the ones I sported this morning when the girls were interrogating me. And they want me to tell this boy about my kinks? No way. I won't do that if it means he won't feel comfortable with me again.

"We could. But I'm afraid plans will have to wait," Spencer says as his gaze shifts from me to Garcia and the quick tip-tap of her heels, heading to the conference room.

Fuck. A new case.

-

Don't get me wrong. I love my job. But being stuck in the middle of the desert, looking for an unsub that seems to be a ghost? And I say 'ghost' literally because we are looking for a guy who is dead for the town records. No, this is not my idea of a 'normal work day.'

It's frustrating, and not only for the lack of progress. The heat here is like hell. The AC barely works, and everyone's mood is bitchy.

We are not making any progress by now, so Hotch sends us to the hotel for the night. Once in my room, I text Spencer, not with an explicit purpose but to talk to him for a while. But he doesn't answer my texts. Is he sleeping by now? Considering he's a night owl, I found it very rare. But maybe he's drained like everyone else, so I let it slide.

In the morning, after my shower, I'm checking my phone, and I don't have any messages. Has Spencer received my texts?

I don't want to sound paranoid, but it's like something is going on. At the precinct, I barely get a hello from Spencer. Okay. Maybe it's the stress. I don't give it too much thought, either. Not when we have work to do.

And boy, we have been working hard on this one. Some clues give us hope, but we're far from catching the unsub.

In the little spare time we have between interrogations and visiting dumping sites, I try to share moments with Spencer, but it definitely seems like he doesn't want to be alone with me in the same room, even if he doesn't say it or shows signs of annoyance or animosity towards me.

I can't tell why he is so distant, but it's starting to worry me. Did I do something? And it's killing me because the more I think about it, the more I miss him. A kiss, a hug, anything from him would ease the ache I'm starting to feel.

It doesn't help that he has been choosing to wear the sexiest clothes he has in his go-bag. Those tight grey pants that accentuate his ass, those button-ups with sleeves rolled up.

We have been here for six days, and I think I'm going crazy. I have been trying to be subtle and professional. But I swear that if one more day goes by without being able to feel Spencer's touch, I don't know what I'll be able to do.

It seems heaven has listened to me because we finally managed to catch the unsub, and we're on the jet on our way home. But I'm nervous. I didn't even want to sit next to Spencer like I usually do. I don't know why. What if he wants to break up with me, and I'm just dragging things out?

What the hell am I talking about? I don't believe I'm thinking clearly here. But this week has been so odd that I don't know what to think.

Maybe when we land, I can finally talk to Spencer and put an end to my overthinking. With that in mind, I doze off for the rest of the trip.

Once the jet is down, I'm starting to gather my things when I hear Spencer rushing out, saying goodbye to everyone.

Disappointed and frustrated, I leave the tarmac.

Maybe a full night of sleep in my bed isn't a bad plan after all.

But be that as it may, fuck you, Spencer Reid.

-

As if all that had happened wasn't enough, when I got to the parking lot, my car fucking didn't start. I knew I had to get it checked before.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

That delayed my arrival home for another 45 minutes.

Now, disappointed, frustrated, and with no car, I slam the door shut. The apartment is pitch black, and I have no energy to flick the lights on, so I drag myself to the bedroom. When I open the door, a yelp escapes my mouth when I see a silhouette of a man sitting in the chair I have in one corner.

I'm about to reach for my gun when the bedside lamp flicks on, and the scare turns to confusion when I see Spencer sitting there.

"What the fuck!"

"Hi," he says as if he hadn't almost scared me to death two seconds ago.

"Spencer! What are you doing here?" My voice sounds harsher than I intended, but Spencer brushes it off quickly.

"Waiting for you," he says matter-of-factly.

I'm officially confused. We were together an hour ago? He left without saying anything.

"I don't understand. The way you left the jet in such a hurry, I thought I was the last person you wanted to be with."

My words come out resentful, but I can't help it. Spencer's eyes soften. I averted his gaze as I dropped my go-bag, unholst my gun to set it on the safe, and sat at the end of the bed to remove my boots.

"Hey, don't say that. Of course, I want to be with you," Spencer says, standing from the seat and kneeling to help me remove my boots.

"I'm sorry, but it didn't show that way. You avoided me all week!"

Great, now I sound like I'm making a tantrum.

From his place where he knelt on the floor, his eyes met mine, and I don't know why suddenly I felt a shudder running down my spine.

"Sweetheart, you know we were working, weren't we?"

That condescending tone escaping Spencer's lips? It is something unexpected. But why does it make me kind of nervous? It's a type of nervousness that gives me butterflies in my stomach.

"I know! But- but then in the jet. And you left."

Why am I babbling? Since when did Spencer have looked at me with those piercing eyes?

He stands and offers me a hand to help me to do the same.

"Is my girl upset?" He asks when we are both upright.

'My girl'? That's new. Spencer always calls me by my name, a short version of it, or beautiful, or sweetheart. But thinking about it, 'my girl' doesn't sound bad at all.

"No! I'm not-"

"Oh yes, you are. Look, I wanted to prepare a surprise for you tonight, so I left in a hurry. I was thinking about a bubble bath, dinner, wine, and a movie. I even had the table done with candles ready to lit," he says nonchalantly, and I feel silly for thinking the worst scenarios all week.

"Oh," is the only thing escaping my lips.

"But now, thinking about it, maybe you don't deserve it. Not if you're questioning me like this," Spencer shakes his head in fake - I hope - disappointment.

Okay. Stop right there. What the hell is going on here? Why is Spencer talking like that? About me as 'not deserving' something? What's next? That I'm a naughty girl? - Uhm, I wonder how it could be hearing those words from his lips.-

"What? Why I-"

"Come here," he requests as now he is the one who sits at the edge of the bed and pats the spot in his lap. It doesn't sound too commanding, but sure as hell, I don't need anything more to comply. I need to know where this is heading.

As I'm at Spencer's reach, he pulls me by my wrist to land on his lap while his other hand cradles my face.

"Tell me, uh? Why are you upset?"

His voice drips like honey, and I start to feel hot here.

"I- I don't know. I just missed you, I guess."

"You guess?" He arches a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes. I mean, I do know. I have missed you," I confess, defeated. Oh yeah, now I'm the needy one.

"It helps if I say I have missed you, too?" he says, caressing my cheek tenderly with his knuckles. "I have seen you tense all week; that's why I thought I could do something special for you tonight."

I close my eyes, and for the first time tonight, I let myself enjoy Spencer's embrace.

I exhale a heavy breath as I get lost in his arms.

When I open my eyes, Spencer's are fixed on mine. But his look is not as sweet or reverent as it usually is when we are like this. No, this one is dark and raw. His pupils are fully dilated, and I feel like the breath leaves my lungs.

"Spencer-" I barely mumble.

"I know," he whispers, moving one hand to cradle my neck and bring my lips to his.

Oh God, what I have been craving for days is finally happening, and I can't stress enough how happy I am.

The kiss starts slow and sensual. But not far from that, it gets needy and messy, charged with all the pent-up emotions from the past days. If I had any doubt about Spencer's distance in the last week, this kiss quickly eased my anxiety.

My fingers go to undo the buttons of his button-up, but Spencer stops me with one of his hands, grabbing both of my wrists.

Why didn't I notice before how big and strong his hands are compared to mine? I mean, I always admired his long and deftly fingers, but this? Wow. It's new territory.

"But I want to touch you," I pout when he keeps hold of my wrists in his hand. The cocky bastard raises an eyebrow, contemplating my request.

"You will have to be patient this time and earn it, darling," he says casually, and as my eyes go wide, my jaw goes slack. These words have never come out of Spencer's mouth before. But why am I suddenly starting to feel hotter and more worked up? I blame it on sex abstinence.

"Please, I have missed you so much," I insist, trying to escape his grip to get what I want: undress him. But he doesn't budge, tsking his tongue.

"I already told you. You need to earn it. To my knowledge, only good girls get what they want, and I don't think I'm wrong, do I?"

Jesus Christ! I had never heard Spencer say 'good girl' before, and I'm sure now I'll be addicted to hearing it every chance I get.

"Spencer, please. I'll do anything. I promise. I want to be a good girl. I want to be your good girl."

Spencer's smirk tells me he likes my response, and I'm not at any ounce ashamed of sounding desperate.

He maneuvers me so that I am now on my back on the mattress. I watch his every move intently, and I get lost in his gaze, which screams lust and desire.

He kneels between my spread legs, staring at me intently as his hands move to the edges of my blouse. Just when I think he's going to work on unbuttoning it, he grabs it and rips it open.

A yelp escapes my lips at the raw sound and the view of buttons flying. Spencer doesn't seem fazed by his display of caveman style. And me? I won't mind if he rips all my clothes right now. His hands go to caress my breasts over the fabric of my bra. And then pull it down to free the skin. The cool air quickly stiffens my nipples.

Spencer leans down to suck one of them, twirling the other one with his fingers. A moan escapes my lips at the pleasure his touch is giving me.

"You like that, uh?" he mumbles, still with his mouth sucking and lapping.

"Yes!" I say, as my hands fly to his hair so I can ground myself in something.

After giving enough attention to both of my nipples, he helps me to get rid of the fabric of the ruined blouse and my bra. Now his mouth is sucking a hickey under my jaw, and I feel like I can faint of how aroused I am. One of his hands goes south and stills at the button of my work pants. His breath is hot in my ear.

"I'm going to take care of you. If I do something you don't like, just say it, okay?"

That's a sliver of the Spencer I know, and I can't even think of something this man can do to me that I wouldn't like.

"Okay," I manage to blurt when his fingers work on my pants, leaving me clad only in my panties in a matter of seconds.

Under his intense gaze, I feel exposed, but I also feel safe. There is no place where I would rather be right now.

"You're gorgeous. You know that?" Spencer says, trailing feather touches on my skin aflame with desire. "You don't know what you do to me, do you? I barely can control myself," he continues his praises, thumbs toying with the waistband of my panties.

I'm about to combust.

"Spencer, please."

"What is it, my girl?" he asks, kissing my neck as his fingers slide down my legs, removing the soaked fabric that used to cover my most intimate part.

"I - I need more."

"Are you already desperate for me?"

I can feel how his fingers trace soft patterns in the skin between my thighs, explicitly avoiding the spot where I need him the most.

"Yes! I am. I - I can't-"

I don't even care if I sound coherent at this point. I'm already so turned on and desperate that I can't be bothered by my lack of speech. Spencer still doesn't budge, though.

"I know you want to beg. And I know you can do better than that."

Oh God. I don't know how Spencer's words manage to make me more aroused, but they do.

"I need you," I croak, eyes pleading him to take me. I can feel his fingers ghosting my throbbing clit.

"I need you, sir. Please. You can use me whatever you want, but please, touch me!"

What the fuck? I just called Spencer' sir' and offered my body explicitly to him to use. And the bastard doesn't even flinch? Who is this guy in full control, and who am I acting like a pathetic submissive?

I don't have the answers, but honestly, I don't care. Did he want me to beg? If this isn't begging, I don't know what it is.

"I know you do, baby. Do you think I didn't notice how needy you have been all week? How have you tried to get my attention all these days?" Spencer's voice drops almost two octaves as his finger finally starts rubbing circles on my clit.

Just feeling his touch makes me whimper pathetically.

His lips ghost in my ear, and I can feel his breath heating the spot before his teeth nibble my earlobe.

A mewl leaves my mouth, and if I wasn't soaked before - which I was - now I'm dripping.

"Tell me, this is what you wanted?" His voice is commanding but feels like honey leaking on my body.

"Yes! Please, don't stop."

His movements are deliberate and precise, and when he buries a finger into my core, I can feel the coil in the pit of my lower belly beginning to form. My moans increase in number and volume.

"So needy, my sweet girl. Like that? That's how you want me to touch you?" Spencer coo as he watches me tremble under his touch, adding a new finger to fuck me.

His ministrations continue, but his free hand moves slowly from my cheek down to my neck, caressing the exposed skin with his thumb.

"Or maybe you want me to touch you like this?"

A mewl escapes my lips when he poses his open palm over my throat, not squeezing but seizing how much of my neck he would be able to cover with his huge hand.

"Yes! Please, do it. Please Spencer," I babble, feeling my orgasm closer and closer. And he complies. Applying the minimal pressure in my throat is enough to highlight all of my senses. That, plus the way his ring and middle finger pound in and out of me and his thumb toy with my clit at the same time, sends me to the edge.

"Spencer!" I scream as my climax washes over me.

I don't remember having an orgasm like this in a long time. My vision blurs and I feel like I'm floating on a cloud of pleasure that I don't want to come down from. I can hear Spencer's encouraging words in the distance as he helps me ride my orgasm.

"That's it, my girl. You did so good for me. See how good I can make you feel?"

With hooded eyes, I see Spencer sucking clean the fingers that were fucking me seconds ago.

"You taste amazing. I'll never get tired of it," Spencer says, with a satisfied grin on his face.

Still dizzy, I gesture for him to come closer. When he does, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for the most passionate kiss my current post-orgasmic state will allow. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it is like my sex drive reminds me I want more. I need more.

"Please, fuck me," I mumble between kisses, and I can feel the smirk forming on his lips.

"I just did that," he states when we part from the kiss. "Are you being ungrateful?" Is he joking? I hope he does, but I won't take the chance of not having his dick in me tonight.

"No, baby. I'm thankful for the way you have touched me tonight, but I want you to feel good, too."

Spencer looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that so? Are you willing to do what I want to make me feel good? It's not only for your benefict?"

"Yes! Whatever you want. I'm yours. Take me the way you want to do it. Whatever you want to give me."

I don't know at what moment I became this kind of submissive, but if I have to beg again to have Spencer inside me, I will do it without complaining. And considering he's still fully clothed, I don't know what kind of plan he has right now.

"On your elbows and knees."

It's simple, and the moment the words leave his mouth, I move quickly to obey.

Unfortunately, from this position, I can't see Spencer, but I can hear him undressing. When I listen to him undoing his belt buckle, I have to do everything in my power not to rub my thighs together in search of some friction. And Spencer notices.

"I can bet you're dripping again. Don't you?"

The anticipation is killing me. When I feel the mattress dip with Spencer's weight, I can't stop the mewl that leaves my lips. It doesn't help when he presses his body to mine, and I can feel his hard cock pressing my ass.

"Can you feel what you do to me? I want to fuck you so bad. I want to ruin this pussy." Spencer's voice is husky and low, almost predatory, and I can't wait to feel him.

While we've used dirty talk before, I think this is the first time I can feel it coming naturally from Spencer. I'm usually the one with the filthy mouth.

When I feel his tip teasing my entrance, I instinctively push my ass back, gaining a laugh from Spencer.

"Be patient, once inside there is no coming back." Before I can say anything in reply, I feel him push his cock between my folds, and the stretching is painfully delicious.

"Oh, fuck!" I yelp as I hear Spencer hissing when he bottoms it out. He is still there, grabbing my hips to keep me from moving.

"So warm. So tight. Made for me," he mumbles, leaning to kiss my shoulder blades.

"Just for you, it was made for you," I agree, in a new state of pleasure and urging him to move. Spencer pulls back almost completely, only to thrust hard again, setting a slow but deep pace.

"That's my girl, taking everything I give her. You wanted this, didn't you? I know you do. Fuck! So good for me."

Another thing I'm not used to is Spencer being a talker during sex. I mean, yeah, he's very vocal, moaning, whining, cursing, and so am I, but his words are now taking me there faster than I expected.

"Spencer, yes! Don't stop, please!"

"I won't, baby, I won't. Not when this pussy tighen me like this."

His pace quickens, and in the room, you can only hear the sinful sounds of skin hitting skin, our moans, and the dirty words escaping Spencer's mouth.

"Spencer, please, harder," I beg to him. I don't know why, but I want to go to my limit, and I trust Spencer. I need it. He's quick to deliver, and with every thrust, I'm entering into a new space of ecstasy.

He is pounding me harder, and my broken moans are testimony to the brutal pace he leads. I can feel him hitting in all the right places.

"Like that?" He asks, panting in my ear.

"Y-yes."

"I can't hear you, darling," the bastard demands, not faltering his thrusts.

"Yes! Fuck, yes! Like that! Oh, fuck-"

My voice cracks when I feel a sharp smack in my ass.

And I can't stress enough how good it feels and how it helps the ball forming in my lower belly to grow.

"What a sight. You should see how my fingers are red imprinted on your skin," Spencer says, amazed with his doing, not ever slowing his thrusts, and I can feel closer to a new earth-shattering orgasm.

"We need to even the score, right baby?" I can't even catch what he's talking about when I feel a new smack in my other ass-cheek. And then I lose it. I'm teetering to my end, and I need Spencer to fall with me.

"Spencer, I'm so close. Please, I need-"

"Are you going to come? That's what you're trying to tell me?"

"Yes! I need to cum, please-"

"I'm right there with you, my girl. Come on, cum on my cock. Show me how you fall apart because of me."

And I did. My orgasm crashes me like a freight train, screaming Spencer's name once and again until my throat goes dry. He keeps his pace, chasing his own end, and after three deep thrusts, he stills, and I feel him spilling inside of me, grunting as he does so. The feeling almost makes me cum again.

We stay in that position for a few moments, him inside me and trying to catch our breath. I feel like I'm out of this world, savoring the post-orgasmic euphoria of the best sex of my life.

Spencer pulls out, and I hiss at the loss of him. Carefully, he helps me turn over and lie down to rest my back on the mattress. I close my eyes, regulating my breathing, content and completely satisfied.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks me, but I'm still lost in the haze of pleasure. I can barely acknowledge the moment he goes to the bathroom to bring a warm cloth to clean me up.

"Uh? Yeah. Amazing." My words escape before I can process them, but I'm not lying. And I can feel the tons of endorphins running in my brain right now.

"Are you sure?" Spencer checks again. And because I'm more alert now, I can see his worried eyes.

A tired smile forms on my lips as I turn to the side and bring a hand to his cheek.

This man just has fucked me senseless, and now he sees me with those panicked eyes as if he had broken me. And maybe he did, but in the best way possible.

"I'm fine, Spencer. I'm more than fine, actually. That was something else," I confess, caressing his jaw. He lets out a breath of relief, and his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"So you liked it?"

"Liked it? Did you just forget how I was screaming your name just minutes ago?" A satisfied chuckle escapes Spencer's lips. "But I need to know something," I prompt, propping myself on one elbow to have a better view of Spencer's face.

"What is it?"

"Where did this idea come from? It's not like you woke up one day and said, 'Next time, I'm going to choke her and spank her,' right?"

"Well, yeah. It wasn't that kind of spontaneous idea, even though I have thought about it before," Spencer looks at me sheepishly.

"Yeah? Well, then?"

"I heard you. Talking with the girls the other day at the BAU's kitchen." I narrow my eyes, trying to pinpoint the exact moment, and when recognition washes over me, my entire face flushes.

"Oh, God."

"I know I did wrong. It wasn't a conversation for me to hear, but you were talking about your mystery man, and I - I don't know, curiosity got the best of me."

Spencer looks apologetic, and I feel kind of embarrassed right now. It's funny for two people that minutes ago were fucking like there is no tomorrow.

"Don't apologize. It's my fault for spilling those kind of things in the office kitchen." Wait a minute. "From what part you heard?" Spencer purses his lips in thought.

"The part when you admitted seeing someone."

"So you heard when I said I was happy with our sex life, right?" He nods. "Why did you feel compelled to try something different, then? I'm not complaining at all, but I don't want you to feel obligated to do something because of me."

Spencer shakes his head. "I don't feel obligated. I wanted to. But can I ask why you didn't tell me what you liked before?"

That's a valid question, and I don't want to make him feel like I don't trust him because it is not like that.

"It's just- I mean, I love what we have. And I'm falling for you even more each day. I don't want to lose that, and I thought maybe I would have made you uncomfortable saying those things. I didn't want that."

Spencer's eyes glisten with warm understanding. How could I have doubted that he would comprehend? One of his hands goes to push back a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"I love what we have, too. And you won't lose this or me if you share those things with me. I know I'm not the best example of a sharing person, but I'm learning to do that with you. And I want you to be happy and satisfied in this relationship."

"I really am. Seriously!" I quickly reply. God forbid Spencer from thinking I'm not happy and satisfied because it's far from the truth.

"And I'm happy to hear that. But there is no harm in experiencing new things, right?" He says, caressing my cheek.

"You really mean it?" Spencer nods and chuckles.

"It's not an altruistic offer, you know? I pretty much enjoyed what we did tonight." Only remembering what we did minutes ago brings a wide grin to my face.

"Sure you did. Okay. We can keep trying things. One condition, though."

"Name it," Spencer states, opening his arm for me to scoot closer to his side, which I happily do.

"I want you to choose the next kink to explore," I request, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction.

With narrowed eyes, Spencer is contemplating his answer. After a few seconds, his lips turn into a mischievous smirk, and he looks back at me.

"Have you heard about temperature play?" he asks, and I immediately bit my lower lip in excitement.

What can I say? This man is full of surprises, and I'm the lucky one who will experience all of them. I can't wait.

------------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)