#but then I found this really cool brush set and decided to just do it all over again!

[anicehomicidaltree]

“How I wonder, ever wonder”

I just recently started edge of midnight and I’ve been loving everything about it, Jericho especially!

vv Textless version vv

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Dead of Night - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer stumbles upon a secret dark fantasy of reader’s and does everything he can to be the one to fulfill it.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written anything with themes like this so feedback is definitely appreciated. Not proofread cuz this is long and I’m tired ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I fully understand if the themes included in this are not for some of my regular readers and I encourage you to scroll if you’re not comfortable with any of the following warnings.

TW: perv!spencer, dom!spencer, mask kink, knife play, blood, dubcon, kind of cnc but it’s emphasized repeatedly that reader initiates and is in control of what is taking place, unprotected sex, penetration, creampie, degradation (slut), pet names (doll, angel) religious imagery, gun mention, std testing mention, fem + afab reader, soulmate talk

Rating: R, 18+

——

You knew it was wrong, you’d seen just how easily Penelope was able to track someone down through their “anonymous” profile on websites just like this one, but your desires got the better of you, and you just had to try.

Your profile was nondescript, your age, a vague physical description of yourself, and a link to a meticulously detailed account of your wildest fantasies. After weeks of back and forth, chatting with a few equally nondescript profiles, you found the one that you really clicked with, the stranger you decided you’d let sneak into your window and do whatever he wanted with you. After an std panel and the agreement of your safe word, you decided to fully commit, sending this complete stranger your address and logging off for the night.

Even though you knew this was a stupid idea, you weren’t a complete idiot, you had plans in case anything went south, including placing your handgun in your bedside table for easy access if you, god-forbid, had to use it. Placing yourself in a high-risk situation was the whole point, and you couldn’t wait to see how it turned out.

You spent the remainder of your afternoon preparing, doing every grooming ritual you’d usually do before a date, but this time felt somehow more important. You didn’t even know what this guy looked like, and yet, you wanted to be the picture of beauty for him. It was silly, but you always pictured yourself the prettiest you’d ever been when you daydreamed about being ravaged by a stranger. You wanted to be completely irresistible in every way, and you were doing everything in your power to accomplish that.

As the sun finally set, your excitement levels began to rise, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your masked suitor. You opened the bedroom window just above your fire escape, the cool night air drawing goosebumps over your exposed skin, only a thin lace slip and matching panties adorning your frame. You crawled into bed, double checking your bedside drawer before pulling your comforter over your body, eagerly drifting off to sleep.

—

Spencer had been keeping a secret, one that he did not want you to know about, until today. A few weeks ago he’d stayed late to finish up some paperwork for the last case you’d been on, when his pen ran out of ink just as he was about to sign off the last document. He walked to your empty desk, reaching across it to grab a pen from the cup next to your monitor, when his arm brushed against your mouse, causing your display to light up.

He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but curiosity got the best of him, scanning through the title of each tab open on your browser until a certain website caught his eye. He went against his better judgment and clicked the tab, his jaw dropping upon viewing your profile, and with it, the graphic description of your sexual proclivities. His brain immediately cemented that information in his mind’s eye, fit to torture him for days after the encounter.

He couldn’t stop picturing himself fulfilling all of those desires for you, having to excuse himself to the bathroom several times a day to take care of the bulge in his pants just from being around you. He eventually bit the bullet, creating his own profile on the website and messaging you as an “anonymous” suitor, beyond pleased when the two of you hit it off. He felt bad not telling you, but this was a means to an end that would surely leave you both satisfied, and the devious part of him won out this time.

He did everything you asked, getting tested so he could fuck you raw, he was apprehensive about the risks of a potential pregnancy even without the fear of std transmission, but the way you begged so beautifully in your messages for him to creampie you was more than enough to convince him. The moment he got your message with your address, he went out and purchased a mask to conceal his identity just like you asked, and anxiously waited for nightfall.

—

The graze of fabric against your skin gently woke you as your bedding was pulled down off of your body, your mind clouded from the deep sleep you’d been sunk in seconds before. You rolled onto your back, starting to lift your head until a large hand clamped over your mouth, forcing your head back down onto your pillow. Your eyes widened, darting around the room before settling on the masked figure on top of you. You tried to scream against his palm, but the sound simply reverberated back against you, muffled by his strong grip.

His free hand made quick work of cutting off your slip, the thin fabric splitting easily against the blade of the knife in his grasp. You struggled underneath him, weakly pushing at his strong shoulders, feigning defense as the heartbeat in your cunt grew stronger by the second. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you feel almost high.

“Don’t fight it.” He hushed, holding the knife flush against your neck. You slowed your movements, settling for shifting your legs against his. He removed his hand from your mouth, freeing it up to gather your hands to pin them above your head as well as give you an opportunity to use your safe-word if need be.

He trailed the knife down your body, your chest heaving with shaky breaths as the blade scratched a small cut between your breasts, warm droplets of blood forming in it’s wake. He followed the curve of your body, leaving shallow kitten scratches until he reached your hip, using the tip of the knife to carve a heart into your skin. The sting of each movement set every nerve ending in your body on fire, the wetness pooling between your thighs increasing by the second.

He pressed his thumb to the wound, smearing the blood down to the waistband of your panties, using the digit to pull the fabric before letting it snap back against your skin. You gasped, your labored breaths growing more desperate as he brought the blade to slice the fabric, exposing your embarrassingly wet cunt.

“Look at how wet you are, you love this, don’t you?” The condescension in his tone felt almost half-hearted, and the more of his voice you heard, the more familiar he started to sound, but you couldn’t quite place why. You looked down at him, watching his every move as you tried to place him.

He set the knife on the bed, using his now free hand to yank his pants down, his hard cock slapping against his thigh. Your eyes went wide at his size, looking just long and thick enough to have you a little worried about being able to take him raw, but the thought of being stretched to your limits sent another wave of arousal straight to your core and helped quell that fear ever so slightly.

“If you don’t want this, just say the word.” His words dripped from his lips like honey, sickly sweet, and in that moment you had never felt more sure of your desire for anything in your life.

—

Spencer wondered if the way he was feeling was akin to that of religious psychosis, so engulfed in your very being that he ought to worship at your altar for the rest of his life, fit to carry out any act you requested of him.

His brain kept your description of your fantasy scrolling in the back of his mind, catering to everything you had written to a T in hopes of making this a night you’d never forget. The only thing at the forefront of his thoughts, however, was the intoxicating sounds you made every time he gripped or marked your skin. Each note sought to pull his focus, threatening his plan as it tempted him to lose control all together. He couldn’t do that, his conscience too righteous in its goal to keep you as pleased as possible.

He took his time, marking you just the way you’d requested, his cock twitching with every whimper that flowed out of you until he finally reached your core, the lace of your underwear glistening under the moonlight cast through your open window from how wet you were. He wanted to sink fully into you without a care in the world, but he had to make sure this was absolutely what you wanted. He was, to your knowledge, a stranger after all, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable in any way.

—

You frantically shook your head in acknowledgment, spreading your legs wider for him, ready for this tall stranger to finally be inside of you. Your eagerness spurred him on, a surge of confidence washing over him as he let go of your wrists, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you further down the bed. He lifted your legs so your knees rested atop his shoulders, his rough movements making you gasp.

He brought his cock to your core, running the shaft through your slick folds before slapping the head against your clit a few times, the repeated hits making your hips jolt ever so slightly. He hummed low in the back of his throat, lining up his tip with your entrance before thrusting forward, bottoming out inside of you in one fell swoop.

“You’re so tight.” He grunted, one hand holding an iron grip on your thigh to hold your leg up, the other digging fingerprints into your hip. You gasped once more at the intrusion, feeling more full than ever before as he set a steady but unrelenting pace. Your gasp turned to crying moans, brows furrowed in awe at the way his cock stretched you so deliciously, prominent veins rubbing against the contours of your sensitive walls.

Each snap of his hips had his balls slapping against your ass, the lude sound mixing with his grunts and the wet squelching where your bodies met in the most intimate way, the decibel level in the room reaching an all-time high.

You bit your lip, trying to quiet yourself to at least somewhat lower the noise and not disturb your sleeping neighbors, but the absence of your desperate moans was not lost on him. His pace slowed, his left hand firmly gripping your chin to force you to look at his masked face. His eyes met yours through the thin slit in the dark fabric.

You knew those eyes, those big, soft brown irises, so comforting, yet darker than you recognized, pupils far more blown than you’d ever seen before. You knew him, but there was no way. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you, because there was no way that Spencer Reid would do anything this perverse, let alone with you.

“Louder, slut.” He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lower lip out from under your bite.

“I-I’m not a slut.” You mumbled, barely above a whisper.

“Only a slut would leave her bedroom window open, practically begging a stranger to come in and fuck her.” This was far too brazen to be Spencer, you thought, a level of blunt confidence you’d never in a million years expect from him.

“I-I didn’t mean to.” You stuttered over your words, raising your voice in an attempt to half heartedly defend your actions.

“Well then, you should really be more careful next time.” He laughed, releasing his grip on your face before playfully slapping your cheek and increasing the pace of his thrusts, his now free hand finding your clit. His calloused thumb drew broad strokes over and over and over against your sensitive bundle of nerves, a knot tightening in your stomach as you drew closer and closer to your release. You turned your head, trying to bury your face in the pillow as you writhed underneath him, your body frantically looking for relief.

“Oh don’t be shy doll, let me see how much you’re enjoying this.” His tone was almost sing-song, clearly enjoying this just as much as you were. He pressed his body down closer to yours, almost pinning your thighs against your stomach, the change in angle forcing a borderline scream from your lungs, crying out strangled ‘uh’s with every stroke. You looked him in the eye, desperate to know if this deity above you could possibly be your nerdy coworker, and every interaction you’d had with him flashed before your eyes.

Every fleeting glance he took at your chest or your ass, the way he lingered behind you in the field, feeling his presence even when you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t think of a time he wasn’t around a corner when you turned it, always near whenever you needed his help on a case. You always secretly hoped he'd make a move sooner or later, but you never thought it would be anything like this.

He was omnipotent, knowing exactly how to make you feel things you’d never felt before, pushing your body to levels of pleasure you never thought possible. You thought you might disappear, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to make sense of everything, finally understanding why the French refer to orgasms as the little death.

Your walls fluttered around him, the sounds leaving you reduced to pathetic whimpers as your vocal chords grew strained.

“That’s it, cum on my cock, angel.” He groaned, his thrusts growing increasingly desperate. The pet name surprised you, but if he saw you as an angel, how fitting considering how godlike he felt to you in that moment. You could tell he was close, and if your orgasm was what would get him to cum inside you, then so be it. Your eyes glazed over, your hands clawing at his back as you chanted ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ like a mantra, wave after wave of euphoria washing over every nerve in your body.

—

Spencer was a man possessed, his primal urges leaving his mind completely uninhibited, so lost in your body that he thought he might need divine intervention to ever leave you.

He didn’t quite understand where the sudden dominant urge coursing through his veins had come from, but he didn’t care to dwell too much on the thought, content to fuck you into the mattress until you screamed his name.

He knew that wouldn’t happen, but he secretly hoped you’d realize who he was, wishing for nothing more than for you to want him for him. His heart felt like it may burst at the thought, the desire to be wanted as he was ever-lingering inside of it, that being the very motivation behind his lingering tendencies from the start.

As your heat contracted around him, he felt an embrace like no other, hoping the myth of twin flames to be true. If this connection wasn’t proof of it, how could he rationally explain anything? He knew the scientific reasoning behind it, but it didn’t feel like enough, such a finite explanation for a feeling so sempiternal.

He wondered if you felt the same way too, so lost in his every desire that he let himself dive into the delusion, using the pet name he wished he could call you every day for eternity.

Your chants and cries as you came set him free, his hips stuttering as he finally filled your aching cunt to the brim with his seed. He hovered above you, catching his breath, watching your expression soften as you rode out your orgasm, practically glowing.

When he finally snapped out of his lust-fueled haze, he fully remembered his role, pulling out of you and quickly scrambling to stand, fixing his pants and underwear. You had agreed to his departure after, and as badly as he wanted to hold you until you drifted off to sleep, he respected your wishes more than his wants. He walked to the window, lifting his leg to climb out of it when you cleared your throat, drawing his attention. He turned, seeing you sit up, hazy smile on your face.

“Thank you.” You sighed, and he gave a nod of acknowledgement before slipping out of the window and into the night.

—

When you awoke, you had a couple minutes of doubt in which you thought the events of the night before had all been a dream, until you moved to get out of bed and winced at sting from the shallow marks adorning your body and the dull ache between your legs. You smiled to yourself, before looking at your phone and realizing what time it was. You were going to be late, and panic set in when you realized you’d have to go to work in the makeup you’d fallen asleep in last night.

You rushed out the door, checking your makeup in a compact mirror in your car, wiping a small bit of smudged mascara off of your brow bone before walking into work.

“Fun night?” Derek quipped as you walked through the doors, always the first to poke fun at your perceived escapades.

“You could say that.” You laughed, setting your handbag on your desk before joining the team to walk to the conference room.

“What happened?” Penelope asked, almost panicked, taking your arm in her hand and pointing to the only visible cut on your body.

“Oh that’s nothing, I just scraped my arm on my car door.” You reassured, smiling at her. As much as you loved your best friend, she didn’t need to know the truth of your little white lie.

“You should really be more careful next time.” Spencer’s voice came from behind you, his hand gently resting on your hip before squeezing right where the heart shaped cut from the night before was inlaid in your skin. His words reverberated in the space between your ears as your brain processed what he’d just said.

Realization hit you like a semi truck, your lips parting in shock. Your suspicions had been correct, and you almost wanted to turn around and kiss then interrogate him right there. You couldn’t do that though, having a full work day in front of both of you.

Now you just had to figure out a time and place to broach the subject with him without completely humiliating yourself.

——

part 2 can be found here

tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[supernovafics]

boyfriend!steve who loves recording everything

wc: 899

a/n: been thinking about this a lot a lot and finally got around to writing it

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“and here we have my beautiful girlfriend who put this whole party together.”

you looked into the video camera for a brief second, drunkenly smiling into it before looking up at steve. “you’re having way too much fun with this thing already, birthday boy.”

“what? it’s actually a very cool gift.” you could tell steve was a little drunk too, but you didn’t think that would’ve changed how into the gift he was; the camera the kids pooled their money together to get for him. “say hi.”

“hi,” you said, smiling and looking right into the lens again, and then you playfully stuck your tongue out at it. 

“i love you,” steve said with a soft happy laugh. “so much.”

“i love you too. so, so much,” you told him and he leaned down to kiss you. 

“thank you again for doing this whole thing,” he mumbled against your lips. “best surprise ever.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “no need to thank me. you deserve it, best boyfriend ever.”

the camera was filming the wooden floor at this point, but it probably still picked up what you two were saying. 

you pulled away from steve after a second, knowing that the longer you two were wrapped up in one another, the more your friends would playfully make fun of the two of you.

“you should go film robin and nancy doing karaoke. i think that them drunkenly singing bohemian rhapsody needs to be documented.” 

steve nodded. “great idea.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

after that first night, it should’ve been obvious, but that camera became steve’s favorite thing. it almost made the new pair of nikes you’d gotten him look like the most boring gift ever, but you didn’t really mind it.  

it was always the most random moments that he wanted to record of you two. “for memories” was always his response when you asked why he wanted to record you two brushing your teeth in the morning or you two lying on the couch and watching a bad movie that he brought home from family video. 

or even in this moment when you two were cooking in the kitchen of your shared apartment.

you immediately gave him a look when you noticed him turn on the camera. “steve, you’re making it seem like we’re cooking something super elaborate. it’s just a grilled cheese.” 

“it’s still like a fun cooking show,” he said, smiling as he set the camera up on the counter, placing it on top of a stack of random containers. “what do you need, chef?”

there was no way of telling if either of you were actually in the frame— you had a feeling that at least your heads were cut off— but still, you decided to play along. he was acting too cute and adorable not to. 

“bread and cheese, chef,” you told him as you went to grab a pan from the cabinet below you. “oh, and butter too.”

“got it,” steve nodded and went over to the pantry and then the fridge, and then made a show of showing the camera all of the ingredients he grabbed. 

you couldn’t help but laugh a little as you watched him. you decided to play along further and follow suit as you did most of the actual cooking; making a point of showing the camera exactly what you were doing and even exaggeratingly explaining it too. 

and when you two were eating at your small kitchen table ten minutes later, you admitted to steve with a smile that he was right, and filming everything did make it feel like a “fun cooking show.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

and then there were the moments when you were the one to grab the camera and initiate the recording. it was seldom, but when you did do it, steve always got the happiest grin on his face. 

like, in this moment, when you were coming out of the bathroom and grabbing steve’s t-shirt that had been haphazardly tossed to the floor thirty minutes earlier and slipping it over your body. for no particular reason, other than you found yourself wanting to, you grabbed the camera off of steve’s nightstand and then slid into his lap, straddling him.

he was already smiling as you turned on the camera and the familiar red light came on when you pressed record. 

“say hi,” you told him, your own smile on your face as you pointed the camera at him. his messy hair from what you two had previously been doing was probably the cutest thing you’d ever seen and you made sure the camera saw it. 

he smiled wider. “hi.”

one of his hands found your bare thigh and you let out a contented hum in response. 

“y'know, i’m surprised you haven’t asked to film us yet,” you said softly. "us doing what we just did…”

his eyes widened a bit at your shy suggestion and you smiled wider, zooming in on his expression. “is that an option?”

you stopped recording him then and reached over to set the camera back down on the nightstand. 

“maybe,” you answered, shrugging innocently. “i think it could be kinda hot.”

steve shook his head. “not just kinda. very hot.”

you leaned down to kiss him then. it was slow and languid and steve’s hands immediately went to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.  

“very hot,” you hummed in agreement. 

[benevolentbones]

kids table | spencer reid x gideon!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: none really

word count: 1.4k

summary: spencer finally calls you and asks you out

a/n: the awaited part 2 is finally out, i hope you all enjoy this as much as part 1! if youd like me to write a part 3 let me know!

spencer drummed his fingers against his desk, the rhythmic thudding soothing his nerves.

in his free hand he held his phone, next to it the piece of paper you gave him at dinner from a few nights ago. not that he needed it, he had memorised everything you had scribbled down.

he had punched in all the digits of your phone number, his thumb hovered over the call button.

“what are you waiting for, pretty boy?” morgan questioned, the muscular man rested his hip against spencer’s desk, as he peered over to see what the genius was up to.

“i- i don’t know. i don’t know why i’m so nervous, she said she wants to go out with me but-“

“but you’re scared she will change her mind?” morgan reached over, grabbing the piece of paper from reid’s desk and analysing it.

spencer let out a frustrated groan, dropping his phone against the table and resting his forehead against the cool wood.

“reid, i don’t think she would change her mind man. i was watching you all night, she seemed to really dig you.”

without moving his head, spencer fixed his stare onto derek, side eyeing him.

“you think so?” he mumbled out, barely audible as he face was practically smushed against the desk.

“yeah i know so. so stop being so scared and just call her, invite her out.”

morgan gave the dark haired man a pat on the back before leaving him to do the thing he was dreading.

spencer picked his phone back up, your number still on screen just waiting to be rung. he exhaled, pressing his soft lips into a hard line before his thumb brushed over the call button.

it began to ring and spencer could swear his stomach dropped.

“hello?” your voice cracked through his phone, the familiarity of it relieving some of the pent up anxiety he was feeling.

“hey- y/n? it’s reid- spencer reid.” he mumbled out.

“oh! hey spence” your voice seemed more chipper after you realised who was calling you. “i’ve been waiting for your call.”

spencer was so lucky that you could not see the blush that spread across his face, he lifted a finger up, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

was it warm in here? damn.

“mm i was just calling- i wanted to know if you’d like to see a movie with me?”

spencer had interrogated hotch the other day while working a case, quizzing the older man about the things you enjoyed and what you didn’t like. he wouldn’t have dared go to gideon, so hotch was the next best option.

and through doing so he found out your love for going to the cinema.

“i love the movies!” you exclaimed, maybe a little too enthusiastic but spencer didn’t mind, a smile spread across his face.

you cleared your throat before continuing, “i would love to see a movie with you, spencer.”

“great-how does tomorrow night sound?” spencer chewed at his bottom lip, awaiting your answer.

“mhm that sounds good, how about i meet you outside your office at 7?”

“i-i’ll see you then.”

“see you, bye spencer.” and with that you hung up.

spencer placed the phone down on his desk, swivelling around in his chair. from across the room, derek was stood in conversation with penelope. spencer caught his glance, giving the older male a thumbs up.

“that’s my boy!” morgan yelled, causing a few sets of eyes to glance in his direction from his sudden outburst.

~

you stood outside the bureau, leaning against the cool brick wall. it was 6:58pm, and the sun was just setting.

usually you weren’t too concerned about what you’d wear out, or on a date even. but tonight you were a little nervous, and it took you almost two hours just to pick something.

you had decided on a black mid length pencil skirt, paired with an off the shoulder sweetheart blouse. you had only realised once you had left the house, that it wasn’t exactly the most weather permitting outfit, as it was late autumn, but you’d be indoors soon anyway so it wasn’t too bad.

you stared at the doors to the building, subconsciously playing with the strap on your purse.

seven o’ clock rolled around, and exactly as planned spencer reid strolled out of the building.

the dark eyed male had his signature pair of glasses resting upon his nose, his hair was combed back behind his ears, a few loose strands hung just over his eyes. he immediately spotted you, his stern facial expression softening as he shuffled over to you.

your breath hitched as you took in his appearance. his outfit didn’t much differ from what he wore at the birthday dinner, but seemed more casual. the shirt he wore wasn’t fully buttoned, his tie was hung looser but he still adorned a black suit jacket.

“hi” you mumbled out, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. luckily for you, the dimming light managed he conceal it, mostly.

“i hope you haven’t been waiting here long, ready to get going?” he quizzed, coming to a stop before you.

you looked up to the man who towered over you, and nodded. he lead you to his car and you both got in, spencer starting the ignition and driving off to the theatre.

the drive wasn’t too long, you were making small talk with him as he drove, asking about his day and such.

“they’re playing a screening of attack of the clones, i wasn’t sure if you liked star wars but i got us tickets.” he mumbled out, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he pulled up to the theatre.

your hands rested on your lap as you stared out of the window, glancing over to spencer.

“that sounds great, i like star wars.” you smiled, making his stomach do metaphorical backflips.

you and spencer got out of the car, walking side by side into the cinema.

“i’m going to- to get the tickets. would you like to pick out a snack?”

you nodded walking towards the concession stand. you spent a few minutes scanning the items, a puzzled expression reaching your features. spencer returned to you, the tickets in his hand.

“made a choice?”

“would you share gummy bears with me?”

“would that make you happy?” he mused, watching as a small smile crept onto your face.

you nodded, chewing your bottom lip.

he let out a small chuckle. “then yes, i will.”

spencer walked over to the cashier, and ordered a medium popcorn, two sodas and of course not forgetting the packet of gummy bears.

the two of you walked into the screening room, spencer glanced down at the tickets as you walked up the steps. he lead you to two seats in the back row.

once you sat down to his left, he passed you your soda which you accepted gratefully.

there was only two other couples sat when the commercials starting rolling.

“have you seen this before?” you whispered to spencer.

“mhm, it’s one of my favourites.” he whispered back, leaning closer to you. you tensed up when you felt his hot breath against your neck.

the opening credits started to play and you both settled into your seats, spencer and you both laying your arms on your respective arm rests, he held onto the bucket of popcorn in his free hand.

throughout the film spencer’s gaze would fall on you, as you stared straight ahead at the screen the flickering colours from the film illuminating your, in his opinion, perfect features.

he grew nervous, almost dropping the popcorn, you turned to him and let out a low giggle. “here let me take it.” you mumbled in a hushed tone, reaching for the popcorn which he passed off onto you, your fingers brushing his for a moment.

that small touch was enough to drive him crazy. inhaling sharply, spencer directed his vision onto the screen. he flexed his left hand, before cautiously placing it on top of yours.

you felt your face heat up, you took the opportunity to quickly interlock your fingers with his, giving them a small squeeze.

he turned to you, his face met with your wide eyes, softly staring back at him, a longing expression washing over your features.

spencer felt his heartbeat quicken, he could barely hold it together any longer. he swiftly pressed his lips against yours, kissing you feverishly. you melted into the kiss, letting go of his hand and trailing yours up to cup his cheek.

he deepened the kiss, his palm traveling to your hip as best as he could in the seated position.

when you both pulled away, you gasped for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. his hair was now slightly disheveled, his glasses steamed up and his lips a few shades pinker.

spencer’s cheeks were stained a crimson, his mind as foggy as his glasses. you pressed another small peck to his lips before resting your head on his shoulder.

“we’re about to miss the best bit.” you mused, your face warm.

“are you sure about that?”

[syluslnd]

Could you maybe do one where reader is a tomboy but decides to wear a skirt in front of Sylus for the first time for a date but is really shy about it? And maybe when he sees how shy she is, he teases her about it? :3

wearing a skirt for the first time in front of sylus

The restaurant was extravagant with glittering chandeliers and white linen tablecloths and you felt out of place as soon as you stepped through the doors. The soft, unfamiliar swish of the skirt you wore made you tug at the fabric, self-conscious. This was the first time you’d ever worn one and it was just for him—Sylus, who had insisted on taking you to this fancy place for a “proper night out.”

As you stood just inside the entrance, nervously smoothing your skirt, you saw Sylus waiting for you near your table. His eyes locked on you immediately, widening just a fraction as he took in your outfit—a soft blouse paired with a modest skirt that fell just above your knees.

“Well, well” he said with a smirk, moving towards you, his gaze practically gleaming. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “It’s just a skirt, Sylus” you muttered, looking down, fidgeting with the hem.

He chuckled softly, reaching out to tip your chin up so you’d look at him. “Oh, I know, sweetie. But it’s on you.” His tone was teasing but there was warmth in his eyes, the usual sharp edge of his gaze softened. “I didn’t even know you owned a skirt. Did you have to raid someone else’s closet for this?”

You scowled, though it lacked any real bite. “No! I… I bought it. Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight?” His smirk widened, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—a glint of genuine appreciation. “Now I feel special.”

Your blush deepened, and you looked away, wishing the floor would swallow you up. “Well, don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, kitten. This is more than enough for me.” He took your hand and led you to the table, clearly enjoying every bit of your discomfort.

When you sat down, Sylus didn’t let up. “You keep tugging at that skirt like it’s going to run away” he teased, a sly smile on his lips. “Are you sure you’re comfortable?”

You glanced at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again. “I just… I’m not used to this. That’s all.” You tried to focus on the menu, hoping the red on your face wasn’t too obvious.

He chuckled, setting his menu aside as he leaned in. “I can tell.” His voice dropped, becoming softer, almost… affectionate. “You look beautiful, you know?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I—well—” You stumbled over your words, suddenly finding it impossible to meet his gaze.

“I’ve seen you in a hundred different things but this… this is something new.” He let his eyes roam over you for a moment and you could feel his gaze even without looking at him. “And I have to say, I think I could get used to this view.”

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. “You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help it” he said, his smirk returning. “You get all shy and it’s… cute.” His voice softened, a warmth in it that was hard to ignore.

“Cute?” you repeated, rolling your eyes in a weak attempt to hide your smile. “Right, because I’m so cute.”

“Yes” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours, completely serious for once. “Yes, you are.”

You felt yourself blush all over again, your heart pounding as you met his eyes. There was something more in his gaze, something that went beyond teasing, something that had been simmering under the surface for a while now.

And as you sat there, fidgeting in your skirt and trying to keep your cool, Sylus reached across the table, his fingers brushing over yours in a small, reassuring gesture. “Next time, you don’t have to dress up if you don’t want to” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But… if you do, I won’t mind one bit.”

Your heart fluttered and for once, you found yourself smiling back.

[hunny-beann]

I am literally having the worst day ever, do you think you could write some insanely fluffy Dream for me? I'm talking tooth rotting levels of fluff here.

Rest Now, Wife, Mine

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Note: Hi anon! Thanks a ton for the adorable request, I had a lot of fun with it and really hope it helps make your day feel a bit better <3

Synopsis: Morpheus' wife finds their bed far too lonely without him in it, and seeks out his presence to remedy this so she may finally succumb to slumber for the evening.

Thankfully, he is all too happy to oblige.

Warnings: None! Just pure and unbridled fluff :)

Word Count: 1,298

Her steps are silent and her pace slow as she approaches the familiar throne room, sensing even from outside of its walls that it is as close to empty as it is going to get for the evening.

That said, as close to empty as possible for the throne room of an Endless such as Dream was not nearly as empty as one might think, with it being a rarity that he not be found there.

She fights back a shiver as she steps across the threshold, her bare feet suddenly far colder than before, and her majority uncovered shoulders beginning to undergo horripilation at the seemingly inexplicable shift in temperature.

That said, being easy to explain was not a rule that the Dreaming followed, so this was nothing new, and certainly nothing unexpected.

Though, the sudden voice that split the once heavy silence in twain on the other hand, was.

"And what could possibly have you awake at such an hour, dear wife?"

The voice asked quietly, laced with both amusement and even a twinge of concern that had the wife in question smiling softly in spite of her best efforts to not appear excited at the mere sound of her love's voice.

Oh, but she had never been that strong, had she?

He had her wrapped around his finger just as he did the entire realm that he ruled, though he notably reserved the one with the ring for her and her alone.

She padded up toward his throne quietly, not willing to answer his question until she was close enough that her voice might not reverberate so loudly off of the palace walls.

Some words, she had decided long ago, were for her husband and her husband alone.

Upon her eager approach, the Lord of Dreams could not help but raise one of the corners of his mouth at the mere sight of her, holding his hand out at her nearness to guide her to stand before his crossed legs as he reached gently to take her other in his own as well, making a mental note of how chilled her extremities felt due to the cool night air of his throne room.

He watched as she slackened slightly at his familiar touch, her body always so happy to find him near in a way never ceased to have his heart all but melting at her feet.

What a disastrous little thing she was, truly.

He could never love another.

As her form relaxed at the feeling of his hands on hers, so loving in spite of the power that they held, she could not help but yawn softly, eyes growing teary as her ease allowed the weight of the day to truly set in.

Her dearest Dream Lord smirked up at her, his brow raised knowingly and his eyes twinkling as he watched her fight off the eternally tempting wiles of sleep.

What a sweet little thing, so helpless in her battles against her own biology that it was entirely too amusing to ignore, and always far too entertaining to neglect to bear witness to.

"You are tired, my dear."

The Lord of Dreams stated matter of factly, tugging his beloved closer using his soft grip on her hands so he could properly brush some of her hair behind her ear, a gesture which caused her eyelids to flutter closed briefly before they snapped open once more, her fight against herself not yet over in her eyes (though Dream could see clearly in the way that she swayed on her own two feet that there was already an obvious victor).

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head,

"You need to rest, sweet stardust. Let me bring you back to the bedroom."

He spoke gently, rising to guide her back to their soft and familiar bed only to halt when he heard her reply.

"No, I don't want to go back, you're just going to leave once you think I'm tired enough not to follow."

The Dream Lord faltered upon hearing this, raising a questioning brow in response before lowering himself down upon his throne once more, though this time he pulled his wife right along with him, sitting her on his lap in order to get a better look at her exhausted expression.

He frowned.

"Have you been staying awake on purpose, my love? Lying in wait for me as you promised you would not do?"

She shook her head, but he could see the way that the blood rushed into her cheeks as she tried to explain, embarrassed to admit the things that she had to in order to quell his worries of any intentional harm having been done.

"No, of course not, I just..."

The Lord of Dreams hummed and brought one hand to her back, rubbing up and down along her spine and feeling her lean against him unintentionally in response, her bones heavy and all too prepared to sink into whatever comfort they could find.

"You just what, dearest?"

He urged, causing his lover to nod blearily in response, slowly coming back to reality again.

"I just find that sometimes I cannot bear to sleep alone, that the bed feels far too wide and empty without you in it."

Dream fought back a slight smile upon hearing this, feeling more than a little bit proud to know that his wife could rely upon him enough to truly need him so (though he was notably unhappy to hear that this was causing her any amount of unnecessary strife).

"And is tonight one of those nights, beloved?"

He asked, watching as she nodded, her head lolling slightly upon her neck as her overworked muscles struggled to remain in control over her all too tired body and mind.

"Poor thing,"

Dream all but purred in response, adjusting his love upon his lap until she was leaning against him, breaths warm on his neck and body seeming to grow heavier by the second as the feeling of his familiar closeness drove her into a type of ease that was felt only at a lover's closeness.

"That will certainly have to be remedied, won't it?"

He murmured against her ear, feeling her shiver in response, nuzzling closer with a nod as he gathered his coat that had been hanging on the back of the dais behind him with just one hand, draping it over her body and pressing a soft kiss against her head as he felt her begin to drift off into a much needed and far too well deserved slumber.

"Rest now, wife, mine."

He said softly, feeling his dearest love smile gently against his skin at his familiar words and the use of his favorite (and almost sickeningly sweet) nickname for her,

"I will see to it that no one interrupts you as you do."

If she had been more awake, perhaps the woman would have rolled her eyes or even offered a sarcastic retort in response to her husband's dramatics, but instead she simply nudged herself closer, pressing a gentle kiss against the pale flesh of his neck before she drifted off for the very first time that night, feeling truly safe in the arms of her most adoring love.

And when morning arrived, and the throne room became far less uninhabited, the two of them made for quite a sight, indeed.

After all, who would have thought that the Lord of Dreams might choose to sleep simply to live life as his dear wife did, his cheek pressed gently against her head and his arms wrapped around her as slumber found them both, pulling them closer together, ever still, in the very same way that they belonged now, and always would for the remainder of eternity, and perhaps even beyond that.

ao3 link

[lalacliffthorne]

📃 the basic rules of friendship 📃

Azriel x Reader

summary: the basic rules of friendship. and how to break them.

notes: oh boy. writing this one was pure and utter chaos. it gave me a headache. it did not want to work out. I changed the whole damn plot like five times, because I just wasn't happy with my ideas; they didn't work, they didn't feel right, but I had this specific part that I really wanted to write around, so I couldn't just give it up and call it a day either. then once I finally had it figured out, it still took ages to finish the whole thing, because my brain just wasn't braining - to sum it up, this lil piece of writing basically fried me. but, the last few days, it got easier, I wasn't just staring at the words anymore and what I wrote finally didn't feel blah - and I made it!

so here are the basic rules of friendship. they are long af, and even though they strongly advise against it, there's smut. steamy steamy smut.

______________________________________________________________

the basic rules of friendship

no. 1: friends are there for each other (friends also never get jealous).

Staring up at the male in front of me, I hoped my facial expression didn't convey my current thoughts.

Someone help me.

" - so of course we went in, and even though it was a bit of a struggle, we managed to get them all." The male sent me a grin, and I felt my lips curve, though it probably looked slightly pained.

Mor had decided it was that time of year again where she tried herself at being a matchmaker. She had picked me as target of the night, using the festivities as a clever cover to drag me from one male she thought might fit the requirements to the next.

The one I was talking to now was by far the most pleasant one this evening, which was probably why I hadn't bolted yet. He had even managed to make me laugh a few times, while the few males before that had been closer to making me cry in despair. He was fairly pretty too, with a cheeky smile, dimples and warm eyes. And I really should have been interested, because he seemed sweet, and funny, and actually charming.

But it just didn't click.

There was something about him - no, actually, it was something that wasn't there. His humor wasn't dry enough. He was a bit too reserved. He didn't quite get my teasing.

There was just something missing.

The way he smiled didn't do anything for me; no little skip in my chest, no hitch in my breath. His voice didn't send tingles down my spine, the dimple in his cheek was not quite right, he was a bit too hulky -

Something churned a little in my chest, and I almost winced.

Gods, what was wrong with me?

The air behind me shifted, and for a second, I wondered if maybe I had left my mental shields down and either Rhys or Feyre had caught onto my thoughts and had decided to step in before I went down a rabbithole of possibilties of what could be wrong with me.

But then the male in front of me straightened a little, suddenly looking alert, a familiar scent washed over me, cool and frosty, like pine woods in winter, and something skipped softly against my ribs.

Quickly looking over my shoulder, my eyes moved up, and up, and my shoulders sank a little when they found the face of the male suddenly towering over me.

Azriel's eyes were piercing, unwavering and unreadable as usual, and they were fixed onto the male in front of me. Shadows were swirling around him, creeping over his wings and shoulders, some gently brushing over my back like a happy greeting.

The shadowsinger's face itself looked like carved from marble, jaw sharp and set, the muscles in his cheeks shifting with what looked strangely like tension.

"Hey." I hoped the relief didn't vibrate too strongly through my voice, quickly turning back towards the male in front of me with an apologetic smile.

I had to give it to him, he had balls: Even though the Spymaster of the Night Court was staring right at him, unsettlingly quiet and brooding, the male hadn't immediately shrunk into himself.

Though he did look very uncomfortable.

"I'm going to -" He pointed over his shoulder, sending me a soft grin, and I smiled back, again hoping the relief wasn't too visible in how bright it was.

One corner of the male's lips curved. Then he turned around, and I felt my shoulders sag.

"Thanks." I breathed out, turning around to send Azriel a relieved, crooked smile.

The shadowsinger's eyes followed after the male for another second before they turned down towards me, and his gaze lost some of that unreadable coolness, softening. His eyes moved over my face, and he seemed to catch onto something, because his gaze narrowed in, and a slight crease formed between his brows.

And because it was Azriel, he didn't even have to ask.

The words just tumbled out before i could stop them.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Azriel's lips parted a little. Then his eyes sharpened, his shoulders shifting as his gaze moved up over my head, zeroing in on somebody behind me, and something skipped high in my chest at the way his gaze froze over, becoming steely and quietly raging like a rising tide -

Hastily, I widened my eyes.

"No, no; he didn't -", I huffed and breathed out, turning my eyes towards the twinkling night sky in a half-laugh. "It's not because of him, it's - me."

The dangerous promise in Azriel's eyes vanished with a blink, but the light crease between his brows deepend as his gaze returned to my face. The warm lights dotted all over the House of Winds' terraces threw shadows under his jaw and made his amber eyes glow softly, his dark hair tousled and skin rosy from the cool wind.

"It's just -" I exhaled again, furrowing my brows softly at myself.

"There's this male, who's actually not a jerk, and who seems good and funny and interested, and - nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just kept finding things that were wrong, even though I don't even know what would have been right, and -", I shook my head and looked up at Azriel, frowning gently as something churned a little in my chest.

"Is there? Something wrong with me?"

Azriel stared at me before huffing, and something tipped over in my chest when a soft snorted laugh broke from his throat.

I frowned, feeling something tighten a little under my ribs. "What?"

Azriel's lips were still twitching upwards like I had just made some sort of joke only he understood as he turned his face away, shaking his head a little. Then he looked back down at me. His amber eyes flickered over mine for a moment, and there was something in the way he stared at me that soothed the soft twinge under my ribs.

Azriel blinked, then he said steadily, his low, deep voice gently tickling my spine: "There's nothing wrong with you." His gaze moved over my face, and something I couldn't place shifted in his eyes, tinging his voice when he added: "He just wasn't what you're looking for."

"I don't even know what I'm looking for,", I grumbled under my breath, but there was a soft skip in my chest, that bit of tightness gone when I looked up at Azriel. "How am I supposed to find something when I don't know what it looks like?"

Az blinked again, eyes resting on mine. "You'll know."

I felt my brows furrow gently at the sound of his voice, a little quiet and distant but so, so sure.

Feeling my lips twitch, I raised an eyebrow. "That's sappy."

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched even as he glared down at me, almost like he couldn't hold back the way they curved at the corners. Then he lightly raised a brow. "Mor looks like she's got the next target."

I cursed softly and quickly slid my hand into the crook of his arm, bumping my shoulder into his biceps.

"Come on, let's go, I need a drink."

no. 2: friends talk about their feelings.

“What the fuck was that?”

The door slammed behind me, and I raised my head just in time to see Azriel turn around, his eyes burning into mine so fiercely, I almost held my breath.

Running a hand down my face, I shook my head, my voice tired when I mumbled: “Can we not –“

“I told you to get out, and you didn't listen, you disobeyed orders –“

“Orders?” I stared at him, feeling something begin to bubble in my chest. “You told me to run and fucking leave you!”

“And you didn't!” Azriel's voice sounded like thunder, not simmering anger, but loud and deep. Shadows gathered around his feet, and his wings flared when he stalked towards me, blood dripping from the wound in his side, but he didn't even seem to notice. “You came back when I told you to leave; you could've fucking died!”

“You would have died!” My voice was incredulous as I stared up at him with wide eyes, and Azriel's jaw tightened as he took one last step forward, his chest almost pressing into mine as he glared down at me.

“Then I would have died.” His voice was quiet again and cold, so cold, but his eyes were whirling with emotions I couldn't decipher as they burned into mine. “But you would have been safe.”

Staring up at him, my eyes blown wide, I felt my breathing pick up as I tried to fight against the way my chest grew tighter with every second. Then I exploded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Azriel blinked like I had slapped him across the face, but it felt like some kind of dam had broken, because the words just started falling, becoming louder with every second.

“I don't give a shit about being safe if it means you try and sacrifice yourself! You asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?! I couldn't just leave you because I will never leave you to sacrifice yourself like your fucking life means nothing, because it does, it means everything!” My voice broke as my voice rose into a scream, and I felt tears well in my eyes as the ache under my ribs grew and I hit my fist against his chest.

“You're hurt, you would have died!! What the hell is wrong with you that you think I could just leave you for death, you moron, what would I be living for if you died, especially because of me; it wouldn't mean a thing! You fucking asshole!” My vision blurred as tears streamed over my cheeks. Azriel stared at me like he had never seen me before, frozen in place as I heaved with quiet sobs, my whole body trembling as I tried to fight for air.

“Don't you get it? You're –“ My voice broke.

Everything.

Azriel's eyes pierced mine, emotion whirling in them, jumbled, indiscernable. Then he blinked.

“Come here,”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse, and I breathed in shudderingly, tears streaming over my face when his hand closed around my elbow and he pulled me forward, not caring a bit that he was still dripping blood onto the carpet as he dragged me into his chest.

“I'm sorry.” I could feel his low voice vibrating through my body, quiet and rough when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and buried his nose in my hair, and I hiccuped, feeling tears stream over my face as I slid my own arms around his middle and clung to him.

“Never ask that of me -” My voice broke, and Azriel tightened his grip, the tension not leaving his frame as he slipped his hand up my back to tangle his fingers in my hair, his thumb slowly brushing over my skin when he raised his head a little to press his lips against my temple.

“I'm sorry,”, he mumbled against my skin, soft but hoarse, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my body trembling with silent, heaving sobs as I held onto the male who held me.

no. 3: friends might engage in the occasional amicable teasing.

That was it.

Stopping in the middle of the street only a few feet away from the entrance to Rita's, I barely kept myself from wincing as I leaned forward, trying to balance on one foot as I started unlacing the straps of my heels. They were murderously high, and, together with the cobblestone streets and the drinks I had, that meant mortal danger for my ankles and my dignity.

Plus, they were beginning to hurt like shi-

I almost lost my balance, feeling myself tip to the side and my eyes widening. But then a hand slipped under my arm and steadied me, and my breath hitched a little when my gaze darted up.

Azriel raised a brow at me.

“Oh, shut up,”, I grumbled quickly under my breath, trying to ignore the soft skip in my chest at the way his amber eyes were twinkling almost indiscernably as I slipped out of the first heel.

Groaning happily in relief as I rolled my ankle, I carefully placed my foot on the cold ground, trying not to wince at the ache jolting through it when I shifted my weight onto it.

Azriel kept his hand under my arm, his scarred skin warm in the cool night air, even as I balanced a lot easier, undoing the laces of the second heel.

Slipping out of it, I straightened, breathing out and trying not to squirm at the soreness of my feet when I shifted on the cold cobblestone. Then I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly.

Az was still staring down at me, brows drawn together a little as he narrowed his eyes at me.

I frowned back at him suspiciously. “What?”

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched upwards as he shook his head and stepped forward, and I felt my eyes widen when he leaned down.

“No, wait –“

The shadowsinger slipped his arms under my thighs and lower back, and a soft squeal broke from my lips when he straightened back up, easily sweeping me off my feet.

My hands gripped his back, and my heart jumped into my throat when Azriel hoisted me up a little to adjust his grip, the motion causing me to slide up and down in his arms. I hastily clung to him and stared at him desperately.

“Are you serious?”

Azriel's eyes were twinkling a little when he threw me a look. “You looked like you were going to hobble the way home.”

I huffed, scowling at him, but it probably looked more like a pout, because the shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek. Then he raised a brow at me.

“All set?”

Grumbling softly under my breath, I leaned forward a little to gather my shoes in one hand. Azriel changed his grip to hold me steady, his breath brushing over my temple, causing something to flutter gently against my throat, and I tried to ignore the sudden dip in my chest.

Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I pressed my forehead against his collarbone and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Alright, ready.”

There was a soft, amused huff that made Azriel's body vibrate. Then he started moving, setting down the street, every long, steady step sending a soft jolt through my body.

I blinked before cracking open an eye and furrowing my brows in confusion.

“We're walking?”

From my position, I saw only one side of Azriel's face as he looked ahead, but there was a curve to his lips that caused something to swerve sharply in my chest when he threw me a look.

“Unless you want to almost throw up again.”

I raised my head quickly to glower at him.

“That was one time."

"I wasn't actually aware anyone could turn that shade of green before you did." One corner of Azriel's lips tipped upwards.

I scowled at him. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

Azriel still looked ahead, but I saw the crease in his cheek deepening.

“Unlikely.”

I scowled, trying to bite back the stupidly wide smile that was suddenly threatening to break out over my face as I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don't like you.”

“I know. You want to hold on any tighter?”

I lightly bonked one of my shoes against the side of his head and earned myself a glare.

Breathing a soft giggle that bubbled in my chest, I exhaled, slowly melting into Azriel's hold as I loosely draped one arm over his collarbones and propped my chin onto his shoulder. Staring at his profile, I felt something flutter softly against my ribs, my heart skipping steadily as my eyes tracked over his straight nose, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the warm light of the lanterns and his soft looking lips.

The shadowsinger threw me a look, and I could see the amusement flashing through in his eyes.

“What?”

I shrugged.

“You're pretty.” I sent him a bright, cheeky smile.

Azriel blinked, and it almost looked like the top of his cheekbones started to darken a little, like the lightest shade of pink dusted his skin –

One corner of my lips slowly quirked as I softly narrowed my eyes.

“Are you blushing?” I started to grin widely. “Azriel, are you –“

The shadowsinger's grip shifted, and I squealed softly when I could feel myself being dropped for nothing more than a heartbeat.

Hastily clinging to his shoulders, I raised my head to glare at Azriel incredulously only to find him smirking, just the tiniest bit.

I huffed, something flutter harshly against my ribs as I scowled at the shadowsinger.

“I really don't like you."

no. 4: friends spend quality time together.

Diving, I avoided a swing of Azriel's wing, sliding over the mats and raising my head.

My heart skipped high, and I barely ducked out of the way, Azriel's wings almost translucent in the light of the sinking sun when he flared them to keep his balance, shadows whirling around him as he dodged a blow, a strand of dark hair falling into his forehead, muscles working under his sweaty, glowing skin -

Something caught against the back of my heel and ripped me off my feet.

My back hit the mats with a thud, and all the air was pressed out of my lungs, causing me to grunt softly. My heart skipped in its race against my ribs, and I relaxed into the mats with a huff, scowling when Azriel appeared above me, lips curving upwards as he squinted down at me, barely out of breath.

"Didn't we just talk about never letting your guard down?"

Huffing, I rolled my eyes, feeling a bead of sweat run over my temple and how my hair stuck to my skin when I just laid flat on the mats for a second before holding out my hand with a grumble.

The second Azriel's fingers closed firmly around my wrist, I pulled, my foot catching against his chest and using his own momentum to send him flying over my head.

The shadowsinger crashed onto his back with a heavy thud and a grunt, and I whirled around, using his hand to pull myself up and onto his torso, thighs clamping down next to his hips and my whole weight pressing down onto his chest as I pinned his wrists onto the mats right above his head and smiled widely.

But my remark along the lines of Right back at you, pretty boy got stuck in my throat.

Azriel's eyes were barely an inch away. I could count the golden spots in his amber iris, the dark lashes framing his eyes under dark brows between which a little crease sat that smoothed over slowly. I could feel his breath, warm and a little uneven as it brushed over my skin, could feel the steadiness of his piercing eyes as they stared into mine and how solid his bare chest was, pressed against mine.

My heart fluttered wildly; I hastily moved back a little, and suddenly, something in Azriel's eyes shifted, his body going still beneath mine.

I needed a second until I realised why; why suddenly, Azriel's gaze burning into mine looked different, why he had tensed and his lips were standing just a little agape. But then I shifted again, and Azriel grunted softly, his hips twitching.

Right under my ass.

My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widened a little, and I grew still, staring down at the male pinned onto the mats who had suddenly frozen beneath me as my heart thumped in my throat and something twinged tightly in my lower stomach.

"Sorry,", I whispered, my voice soft and a little breathy, and a spark flashed through Azriel's eyes.

The next second, I was pushed to the side, all the air escaping my lungs when I crashed onto my back again, and my heart simply gave out when my body was pressed into the mats, hips lodged between my thighs keeping me down and Azriel's face only an inch away, dark hair falling down onto his forehead as his eyes twinkled and one corner of his lips rose.

"Got you."

I blinked, something pounding and fluttering harshly against my ribs as my breath hitched and I stared up into Azriel's golden amber eyes, his lips curving and fingers loosely wrapped around my wrists, just lightly holding them to the ground next to my head as shadows whispered, slowly swirling over his flared wings. Then Azriel's lips twitched, and his hands slipped away, pressing into the mats as he pushed himself up and his weight disappeared.

I stared up at the soft blue sky high above, the first stars twinkling down at me while my heart was skipping, missing beats in my chest until Azriel offered me a hand, the twinkle still in his eyes causing me to huff.

no. 5: friends are comfortable with each other (but not overly).

Grumbling softly, I buried deeper in the cushions. There was a heavy weight resting on my waist, and something warm pressed into my back, a body, tall and solid, wrapped around me. A familiar scent surrounded me like a blanket, engulfing me and filling my lungs, and something started to flutter softly against my ribs when I tiredly cracked open an eye.

My sight was blurry with sleep as my gaze slowly tracked over the coffee table and the open doors leading into the garden, the sun already sinking and dipping everything in a golden light -

My heart jumped softly when the tall body curved around mine shifted, the arm closed around my waist tightening, and my gaze slowly focused on the hand wrapped around my wrist, laying on the cushion of the couch right in front of my face.

My mind was still tired and foggy with sleep as from under half-closed lids, my gaze dragged over the long, slim fingers, a palm far bigger than my own, veins running up a tanned forearm and the marred skin, scarred tissue rough but warm against my skin.

A soft, tired sound vibrated through my body, the thighs lodged between my calves shifting. Then I felt warm breath brush over my skin, and as I shivered softly, Azriel buried his nose at the back of my neck and grumbled lightly. Something skipped high in my chest at the deepness of the sound, how raspy it was.

There was a soft tap against my mental shields, and with a huff, I let them down.

"Please don't tell me you two are still napping."

Rhys' amused voice vibrating through my head made me grumble softly into the cushions, and from the way Azriel's lips curved upwards as he huffed softly against my neck, sending another shiver down my spine, the same question had sounded through his mind as well.

"Weren't you the one who told me that with less than ten hours of sleep, I get unbearably grumpy?", I thought.

There was a light snicker in my mind. Then Azriel growled softly. I didn't know what Rhys had said to him, but it made his grip tighten as he scowled into my neck.

There was one last chuckle in my head followed by a gentle sensation resembling a friendly headbutt before the familiar presence disappeared, leaving everything quiet again.

Breathing out, I squinted tiredly, the haze of sleep slowly dissipating.

Shifting on the spot, I started to wrestle myself around. Azriel grunted softly when I accidentally kicked his shin, and a breathy, sleepy giggle broke from my throat, then I buried myself in his chest. Exhaling, I felt Azriel slide his arm around my waist, his hand coming up to tuck my head under his chin. His fingers slipped into my hair, scratching gently over my scalp, and I groaned happily, causing the shadowsinger to huff in amusement.

His thumb lightly brushed over my cheek, and something skipped gently against my ribs, fluttering lightly.

no. 6: friends don't stare at each other (for too long).

Moving down the stairs, I slipped my fingers under one of the thin straps of the black silk dress softly swishing around my legs, pulling it up my shoulder. I could feel the hilts of my knives gently pressing against my thigh where they were tucked into the legs of my boots, the heavy heels thumping softly against the steps as the golden earrings Mor had lent me clinked softly. The heavy black leather coat Cass had gifted me a few years ago was draped over my arm, daggers hidden in the specially constructed lining.

It was time to charme some people. Maybe kick some ass.

Hopefully the latter.

Turning to walk down the last pair of stairs into the entrance hall, I grinned when Feyre tapped against my mind's walls, and when I let her in, her voice echoed through my head.

"Are you ready?"

Ready as ever.

"Alright, we'll be there and pick you up in a second."

Good. Feeling my lips quirk when I heard her chuckle, I raised my head.

My eyes met amber ones, and my breath hitched a little, my movement faltering for just a second.

Azriel stilled. Went completely quiet, head turned back to look up at me, eyes flickering over me, and his lips parted. Just a bit, nothing more than a little gap as his gaze slowly dragged down and up again, and he blinked, the crease between his brows smoothing over into nothing as he simply - stared.

"What?", I mumbled, feeling my lips curve into a soft, sheepish smile as I moved down the last steps.

Azriel blinked again, gaze sliding over me, and something shifted in his eyes, something I couldn't decipher but that made my breath hitch.

My gaze flickered over him, and there was a strange little hop in my chest. He was wearing his fighting leathers, nothing unusual, black shoulderplates making him look even broader, daggers strapped around his lean torso and onto his thighs.

Tearing my eyes away from his chest, I tried to ignore the way my heart performed a double flip when I found Azriel's gaze still pinned onto me, piercing my skin.

The shadowsinger blinked, and his throat worked a little like he was suppressing the urge to swallow. Then he slowly turned and stepped towards me. Wordlessly, he held out a hand, and I needed a second before realising what he wanted.

Huffing at myself and cracking a grin, I handed him my coat, and Azriel unfolded it, holding it open for me to slide into the sleeves. The lining was cool against my skin as Az slipped it over my shoulders, and I barely suppressed a soft shudder when his fingers, still out of his gloves, brushed against my neck, carefully pulling my braid out from under the heavy leather.

Turning around, I straightened the lapels and raised my head, and my heart fluttered up, getting caught in my throat like my breath when Azriel reached out.

His fingers brushed against my waist as he pushed the coat to the side, and a small crease formed between his brows when his hand ghosted over an empty sheath. He straightened a little, and my lips parted, something suddenly rising in my chest when he pulled a dagger from one of the sheaths strapped to his chest.

The silver blade flashed in the warm light when Azriel carefully pulled my coat to the side and slid it into the lining. Then his fingers brushed over the hilts concealed by the black silk, checking every single one of them as my heart thrummed into my throat and I stared up at him, his face a lot closer with his head dipped for a better view of the lining, brows drawn together in concentration, amber eyes clear and focused.

Sliding his hand against my waist to check the other side, Azriel raised his head; his gaze found mine, and my breath hitched when he slowly straightened back up a little.

With a soft swoosh of air, Feyre appeared in the middle of the foyer, and somehow, I managed to tear my gaze away from Azriel's to look over at her. She was wearing a silky dress similiar to mine, dark like the night sky and with high slits very practical for any sort of well-placed kick.

Feyre stilled for just a second as her eyes flickered over Azriel, standing so close to me that his chest almost touched mine and yet not making any move to step back, before finding mine, and something like a light twinkle flashed through her iris. Then she blinked and raised her brows.

"You two ready?"

Blinking, I looked back up at Az, and my breath hitched.

The shadowsinger was still staring down at me. I wasn't sure he had even looked when Feyre had winnowed in, and he didn't react when Mor appeared next to her either, wearing a dark red dress with a deep neckline. Both of them looked ready to smile charmingly and, if necessary, press a knife to someone's throat, but Azriel didn't even cast them a glance.

His eyes were on me, and suddenly, it felt a little hard to breathe.

Azriel's gaze cleared just a little, and he shifted, shoulders straightening.

"Give me a sign if you need me." I knew his deep voice was directed at the other two as well, but his eyes didn't stray away from mine, waiting until I nodded lightly. Then he took a step back, and shadows swallowed him.

Feyre cleared her throat lightly, and when I looked over at her with a blink, one corner of her lips had curved upwards, her iris twinkling. But she just raised her brows, and Mor held out her hand, her eyes bright as she beamed at me.

Staring at the two of them for a moment in confusion, I then blinked and shook my head lightly, moving towards them. Mor sent me a wink.

"You look hot."

I nodded. "As opposed to how I usually look."

Feyre lightly rolled her eyes and Mor flicked my forehead, and snickering, I took her offered hand.

no. 7: friends don't kiss.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs when Azriel raised his head.

He was sitting on the edge of my mattress, wearing only soft looking pyjama pants, his hair tousled and a little damp, like he had taken a shower earlier.

Sending him a soft, cheeky grin, I felt my brows furrow gentle. "Hey."

Azriel's eyes tracked down my body, over the large soft sweater and the too big pyjama pants that both had probably belonged to him at some point, and I shifted a little on the spot. Then his gaze turned back towards my face, and one corner of his lips rose into a small, crooked smile.

Slowly starting to walk towards him, I let my gaze flicker over his face, feeling the curious crease between my brows deepen.

"What are you doing here?"

Azriel blinked. His eyes tracked over my face, slow, a little tired but warm in the soft light.

"Just -" He broke off before huffing and shaking his head. "I don't know. Can't sleep."

I felt my lips curve and sent him a cheeky smile. "I could read something to you."

Azriel's lips curved, and his gaze moved over mine. "I doubt that would help."

"Hey, my reading skills aren't that bad, alright?" I grinned.

Azriel raised his brows, and I lost the fight against the soft giggle building in my throat.

"Oh, shut up."

The shadowsinger's cheek creased a little. He was still staring at me, and I caught something shifting in his eyes as a muscle in his jaw tightened and relaxed again.

Something shifted in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly.

I could feel Azriel freeze a little. One second. Two. Then his shoulders sagged a bit, and his arms slowly slid around my waist, squeezing lightly. It was funny, like this; with him sitting on the edge of the mattress, the size different was reversed for once, me dropping my head to press my nose against his shoulder and Az burying his face at my collarbone.

Holding onto him for another second, I slowly moved back, feeling my lips curve softly. Azriel's arms slipped off my waist, and his muscles shifted when he turned his head. Then he went still, and when I looked up in confusion, my breath hitched.

Golden eyes stared into mine, lips parted just a bit. I could see the shadow of a few freckles on a straight nose, the softness of his lips. And suddenly, my heart was quiet.

The tip of my nose softly nudged against Azriel's, and his eyes fluttered, the muscles in his jaw working as his fingers dug into the cotton of my pants. Then he lightly raised his chin, and his nose brushed past mine again, causing a tingling shiver to travel over my skin, down my spine and into my fingers, making them tremble as I curled them into his shoulders.

I didn't know if I leaned down or Azriel up.

Didn't know if my hand slipping to the back of his neck was first, or his fingers closing around my hips, dragging me forward a little.

All I knew was that his lips were warm and soft and that they were pressed against mine, gentle but soon almost a little feverish.

That his breath was harsh, trembling when he exhaled against my skin.

And that suddenly, my heart wasn't quiet anymore. That it was rising in my chest like a storm, fluttering more violently with every second until breathing was difficult.

Slowly, Azriel broke away, just far enough for his nose to bump against mine again and his unsteady breath to hit my lips. When I forced open my eyes, something flipped against my ribs, because his were still closed, his chest moving quickly as his finger dug into my hips and he swallowed harshly. Then Azriel opened his eyes, and all air I had managed to get left me. Because the gold in his iris was melting together and his lids were heavy and for a moment, he looked a little bit like he wasn't quite there. But then our noses brushed and his lids fluttered and a soft sound broke from his chest that made the world tip over.

"You -" His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, uneven and more hoarse than I had ever heard it, and Azriel's jaw worked, brows drawing together like he was forcing himself to focus as his eyes found mine, something in them that was strange and pleading and burning when he mumbled raspily: "If you let me kiss you again, I won't be able stop."

My heart skipped once and high and harsh. Then I whispered, soft and a little shakily: "I don't think I want you to stop."

Azriel's cheek muscles shifted and he shuddered, like the thought alone -

His fingers dug into my hips, tugging me closer as he pressed his forehead against mine and mumbled roughly: "If you kiss me again -"

I leaned forward and kissed him breathlessly, and Azriel's grip slipped before tightening as a deep rumble built in his throat and he pushed forward and kissed me back like he'd been waiting for centuries.

no. 8: friends never, ever, under no circumstances - well, you can probably guess where this is going.

My breath tumbled when Azriel dragged me closer, closer until my body curved into his sitting one and he kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him alive, deep and desperate and causing my heart to tip over in my chest when his tongue dragged over mine and his hand slipped under my soft sweater.

A soft shuddering breath left me when his rough fingers ghosted over my back, trailing up my spine, and my fingers curled into his hair, causing a deep sound to rumble through Azriel's body. His other hand closed firmly around my hips, then he pulled back, and my heart skipped into my throat at the sight of his eyes, glazed over and hazy.

Azriel's lips parted just a little and his throat worked when he slid his hand from my back to my front, fingers pushing up the hem of my sweater, up until it was bunched up under my breasts, and my spine turned to jelly when Azriel turned his burning gaze away from my face and dropped his head to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss against my ribs.

My hand flew up to tangle in the soft hair at the back of his head, my eyes fluttering, and Azriel groaned softly, deep in his throat as his hand slipped up to press against my back, pushing me into him until my thighs were pressed against the inside of his and he leaned forward, lips dragging over my skin as he began to trail hot kisses over my stomach.

My head fell back as something rose in my chest, wild and madly fluttering. My lower stomach tightened, quivering, causing my breath to hitch.

It felt like with every kiss, Azriel pulled the floor out from under me, over and over again, the whole world swaying around me whenever he got closer to where my sweater was bunched up under my breasts, my fingers digging into his hair when he dipped down again.

It seemed like he was trying to taste every inch of my skin, breath heavy and uneven, grip tightening around me when his teeth grazed over the skin right under the seam of my bra, and I whimpered.

A small, guttural sound built in Azriel's chest, and he attacked the spot, dragging my body into his, kissing and biting until I could feel my skin pulse. My eyes fluttered as my head tipped back a little and my lips parted, and the shadowsinger pressed a scarred hand flat against my spine, running his nose over the bruise like a breathless apology. Then he raised his head, and my heart skipped, tipping over at the sight of his hazy eyes, amber iris clouded, lids heavy and soft lips swollen.

A strand of dark hair fell into his forehead, and the way he was staring at me caused my breath to stumble, hitch and flutter, his throat working as he swallowed and tugged me forward, slowly pulling me with him as he leaned back, and my heart tipped over in my chest when he dragged me down into his lap.

I could feel Azriel's grip shift, saw the flutter of his lids as my chest pressed into his, and everything under my ribs coiled when his hot, unsteady breath brushed over my lips, his nose softly nudging against mine.

My fingers curled into his shoulders as I tried to breathe, even though it felt impossible with his scent invading my senses, his chest against mine and his arm heavy on my waist as his palm pressed against my back, gently urging me forward.

My hips rolled down, and Azriel's lids fluttered the same second my lips fell open as I felt his hard cock press against me, his hands slipping down to close around my hips, and I almost expected him to push me away, bring distance between us -

Azriel dragged my hips forward, and I inhaled softly, sharply, something hot zipping through my lower stomach and pulsing when I ground down against the bulge in Azriel's pants. His lips were parted just a bit, his breathing harsh as his nose nudged against mine, lids heavy. Then his grip around my hips tightened, fingers digging into my skin, and my breath hitched and stumbled when he started guiding my movements, his eyes fixed onto my face like they were burning through me, hazy but piercing.

I barely bit back a soft whimper when Azriel's hot, unsteady breath grazed over my lips, my fingers digging into his hair as I rocked against him, tantalizingly but deliciously slow. Azriel's nose brushed over mine, his hands shifting on my hips, rocking me down harder, and something twisted harshly in my stomach, a wave of heat washing over me.

Before I could stop myself, I pulled him towards me, and Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.

My heart rose into my throat, fluttering as I felt myself twist around nothing, and I whimpered, curling my fingers into the back of Azriel's neck when he kissed me like I was his last breath, devouring, desperate. His tongue slid against mine as his hands slipped under my sweater, curving around my waist, and something swelled in my chest when his rough warm skin pressed against mine, his thumb brushing over my ribs, up against the underside of my breast.

I moaned softly into his mouth, causing his grip to tighten and drag me closer like I wasn't already pressed flush into his chest. His hands closed around the hem of my sweater and pulled it up, up until I had to break away for him to tug it over my head. My arms slipped back over his shoulders, and Azriel leaned forward, into me, kissing me again, deep and hard as he threw my sweater carelessly into the room.

My fingers dug into Azriel's shoulders when his hands slipped under my thighs. Then he lifted me up, turning to place my back on the mattress, his warm, solid body between my legs pushing my knees apart and causing something in my chest to rise and flutter madly, and a soft groan broke from his chest when his body pressed down into mine.

My fingers curled into his hair, and Azriel broke the kiss to drop his head, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair and dragging my head back as he began to press hard kisses against my throat, his heavy, uneven breath hitting my skin as his teeth grazed over my skin. A whimper fled my throat, and my eyes rolled back lightly.

A deep, rough sound rumbled through Azriel´s chest, and his lips brushed lower, kisses growing more deep, more desperate the lower his rough hands slipped on my sides as he slowly made his way down my torso. My body arched into him as he breathed harshly, kissing and nipping at my skin as he pulled down my pants. Then his nose grazed the rim of my panties, and my head fell back as my insides twitched and Azriel groaned deep in his chest.

His hot, harsh breath brushed over the soaked material, and his nose nuzzled against my hip like he was trying to reign himself in, the tension in his shoulders looking unbearable as his lips ghosted over where my thigh and middle met. Then Azriel's fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down, and a soft groan left him, almost desperate.

Raising my hips to help him shimmy the material down my legs, I expected him to move back up my body. But Azriel didn't. His shoulders pushed my thighs apart, and my heart stilled, simply stopped when without hesitation, Azriel sank to his knees.

My breath caught when his hands closed around my hips and dragged me towards him, and a whimpering sound left me when I felt his nose gently nudge against my skin, an ache spreading through my lower stomach like a weight.

My hips bucked, my fingers digging into the sheets, and with a soft rumbling sound leaving him, Azriel pushed one of my legs over his shoulder and dipped his head.

My lips fell open, my heart stilled, and my whole body became weightless when Azriel slowly ran his tongue through my folds. My eyes flew down, finding his, heavily lidded and hazy, a strand of dark hair falling into his face between my legs, and a deep groan rumbled deep in his chest. Then he dropped his head and dove in.

My head fell back against the mattress, and my back arched.

Azriel moved like a male starving, devouring his last meal. His warm tongue lapped at me, running over my clit, pressing down and flicking before his mouth closed over it, and my eyes rolled into my head as breathless moans spilled from my lips.

Azriel's fingers dug into the top of my thigh, his other hand slipping up to press onto my stomach as his eyes fluttered and a moan vibrated in his chest. He sounded more enthusiastic than I had ever heard him; like right where he was, settled between my legs, his nose brushing over my skin as he dipped his head to lap and suck at me eagerly, was exactly, precisely where he had always wanted to be –

His tongue flicked over my clit, and my hand flew up to press over my mouth as a loud whimper broke from my lips. But Azriel's fingers slipped around my elbow, and something flipped in my chest, rising and fluttering violently when he gently tugged my hand away from my mouth, his own sliding down my arm until his rough, scarred fingers slid between mine, lacing them together as his eyes pierced my face, clouded and lids heavy like he wasn't quite there. Then he ran his tongue firmly over my clit, and I moaned, breathily and drawn as I curled my fingers into the sheets above my head.

The weight in my stomach grew slowly, twisting tighter and tighter, and my back arched as a deep groan left Azriel, like what he was doing right now, fingers laced with mine, eyes hazy and hair dishevelled, was the best satisfaction I could give him. The muscles in his cheeks worked as he sucked eagerly on my clit, pressing his tongue against the sensitive spot, eyes never leaving my face even as they fluttered, and I felt my lips part at the sight of him.

My fingers dug into the sheets as I could feel myself pulse around nothing, the pressure in my lower stomach slowly building as whimpers left me and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as whispered curses broke from my lips and my breath heaved, and Azriel's hum vibrated through me. Then his tongue ran over my clit and he sucked, hard, obscene sounds filling the room as he kept pushing and pushing –

The knot in my stomach collapsed and my back arched off the mattress, hips bucking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, my insides twisting and exploding like stars and loud whining sounds breaking from my lips as my eyes rolled back.

I felt Azriel's soft moan more than I heard it, sending vibrations through my body and causing my hand to fly down and dig into his hair. My hips jerked and rolled as my thighs twitched, sharp twinges of pleasure causing my whole body to spasm, but Azriel didn't stop. His tongue lapped at everything he could get, eyes fluttering as another groan rumbled through his body, making me whimper, and he moved, fingers digging into my thigh, keeping it wrapped over his shoulder as he pushed closer, sucking harshly, tongue swirling, and I could feel my stomach twist and turn as another knot built, even tighter and bigger than before.

My mouth fell open, my head pressing into the mattress; Azriel gave a soft sound, maybe an encouragement or a plea, and the world simply slipped away, bursting into a million pieces as the knot exploded, crashing down into a wave so violent, my body shuddered.

My insides tightened, tightened with pleasure so blinding, I couldn't breathe, no sound leaving me as I twitched and writhed, and Azriel kept going, kept sucking my clit into his mouth, tongue pressing against it and flicking over me until my trembling fingers curled deeper into his hair, because it was too much, too good, too much -

My insides twisted, twitching as my knees shook and a breathless whimper left me, and I dug my nails into Azriel's scalp and tugged, tugged harshly until with a soft rumbled growl, the shadowsinger pulled away.

My heart missed a beat, another.

Azriel's pupils were blown, eyes heavily lidded and a little far away when he raised his head, licking his swollen lips. His mouth and chin were glistening as he slid his hands off my thighs, and my breath hitched.

The bed dipped when Azriel pushed himself to his feet to move up my body, his arms pressing down next to my head, his bare chest brushing over mine and his knee pressing into the mattress between my thighs. His nose softly nudged against mine, like a silent question of you alright, and something tipped over in my chest, rising and fluttering.

Quickly, I slipped my hands into his hair and pulled him down, and Azriel groaned softly when I pressed my lips feverishly against his. His body sank into mine when he kissed back, deep and desperate.

My heart skipped against my ribs, and I wrapped a leg over his back, because he still wasn't close enough, not where my middle was pulsing -

The shadowsinger went rigid under my touch when I dragged him down, down until his whole body pressed into mine and I could feel -

Azriel caught my hand, grip tight around my fingers as he breathed heavily, his voice hoarse as he mumbled against my lips: "Are you sure -"

A moan slipped past my lips, soft and pleading as my insides turned, something hot washing over me as I nodded into the kiss, maybe a bit too frantic, too eager, but it didn't matter, not with the groan leaving Azriel's throat, rumbling through his body in what felt like pure relief and desperation.

I tugged at his pants, feeling them slip down his hips and over his legs as Azriel pushed my thighs apart. His lips dragged over mine, then I could feel the tip of his cock nudging against my folds.

My breath gave out, an ache spreading through my body as I whimpered, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he moved in the spot, trying to find an angle with him kneeling on the side of the mattress -

A soft, impatient sound left him; his hands slipped under my backside, and Az lifted me up.

My breath hitched, my arms quickly sliding over his shoulders when Azriel straightened, lips crashing against mine as my chest pressed into his, and I moaned when I could feel him rub up against me as he turned around.

My back hit the wall, and I whimpered, Azriel's tongue dragging over mine as he pushed closer, dragging my thigh up his side as his tip brushed through my folds, way easier like this for him to -

My heart got caught in my throat. My lips fell open, and my heart rose into my throat as I felt myself stretch around Azriel's cock, his hard length pressing at my walls he slowly began to push in.

Azriel dropped his forehead against mine with a strained grunt, his back muscles flexing as my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders, harsh breath hitting my skin as he slowly began to work his way in.

Whimpering softly, I shifted my hips, because he was big and I felt too tight and -

My eyes fluttered, a quiet sound leaving me when my walls closed around him, pulling him in, and Azriel's grip tightened when his hips settled against mine. His hand pressed against the wall over my head he breathed heavily against my lips, nose nudging against mine, and I whimpered, tugging him closer.

A soft groan left Azriel, and his hand slid down to the side of my neck, tilting my head back to kiss me. It was messy and breathless and I whimpered when his tongue slid against mine, his teeth sinking softly into my bottom lip and pulling lightly. His nose nudged against mine, then Azriel slipped his hand down to grip the back of my thigh, pulling it higher up his side, and I felt my lips part when it caused him to slide inside of me.

Azriel pressed his forehead against mine, out of breath as his throat worked, and I curled my fingers into his hair, nodding frantically as my insides tightened, and my head tipped back against the wall when Az slowly pulled out. Then he thrusted back in, and my lips fell open.

Slowly, little by little, Azriel took me apart. His lips dragging over my throat, heavy breaths hitting my skin, hot and ragged, his fingers digging into my thighs as his slow, deep rhythm shook me to my very core.

With every thrust, the world seemed to tip a little more, until there was nothing anymore, nothing but him, body rocking mine into the wall, his cock hitting deeper with every thrust. His arm gripped me tighter, then his hand tugged down one strap of my soft bra and his palm closed over my breast, causing a whimper to break from my lips that turned into a moan when Azriel's lips latched onto my nipple, a groan rumbling deep in his throat when he bit and sucked on my skin, rough palm squeezing and tugging at my breast until my insides tightened around him, squeezing as I shuddered and dug my fingers into his hair, dragging him back up, and Azriel moaned hoarsely into my mouth as our lips crashed together.

His hips snapped forward, and my hand flew out to grip the mantlepiece as my own rolled down to meet his next thrust.

Azriel's shoulders trembled as his fingers almost slipped off my thighs, and a sound left him that caused my chest to rise when his cock hit a spot so deep inside of me, I lost my breath. Lost my grip, felt my stomach pulse, and Azriel groaned against my lips when I dug my fingers into his neck and started meeting his hard, slowly quickening thrusts.

My lips fell open, my eyes fluttering as little by little, that familiar tightness began to form in my lower stomach. Only it felt even brighter, hotter and more pulsing than before, with Azriel buried deep inside me, hitting that spot that made my body writhe with every hard snap of his hips. I knew he could feel it too, the way my insides wound tighter with every thrust, fluttering and pulling him in, his grip bruising as he breathed harshly against my neck, deep, hoarse sounds leaving him somewhere halfway between moans and whimpers, and maybe those sounds alone would have done me in. But then his nose dragged up my cheek, and Azriel pressed his forehead against mine as my fingers scratched over his scalp, his ragged breath hitting my lips as his lids fluttered over his eyes that looked like melted amber.

His hand slipped between us, and my breath caught. Simply stopped when Azriel's rough thumb brushed over my clit, slow and hard, and the world fell apart. Became exploding galaxies and stardust as waves of pleasure crashed over me so intensely, I felt my body tremble and shake beyond measure, my eyes rolling back as my sight went blurry, and Azriel's thrusts faltered. His hips snapped once, twice before pushing in deep, then his head fell forward and lips opened soundlessly as his body shuddered.

no. 9: friends don't fall in love with each other.

When I woke up, Azriel was gone.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I quickly sat up, my gaze moving over my clothes haphazardly strewn over the floor, the crinkled sheets and the window behind which, the sky was still a deep black, with galaxies twinkling in the far, far distance.

I couldn't have been asleep for long.

A little bit of pressure built in my throat, a gentle ache forming in my chest, and I quickly slipped off the mattress, picking up my sweater and tugging it over my head as I padded towards the door.

The townhouse was submerged in peaceful silence, the moon shining through the windows onto the stairs the only source of light as I soundlessly moved down the steps.

On the third floor, there was faint light shimmering out from under the door to the library, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Swallowing softly, I carefully opened the door and slipped through. Gently closing it behind me, I started to quietly move past the shelves until I caught movement over at the window, and my heart did a flip against my ribs when I came to a slow halt.

Azriel was with his back to me, slowly wandering from side to side, his bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floors, his shoulders tense, wings shifting and muscles working under his skin as he ran his hands through his hair. Shadows were pooling around his feet, completely quiet for once, just gently brushing against his ankles when he leaned forward, pressing his palms onto the window sill and dropping his head.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I pulled up my shoulders, whispering softly and a bit hesitantly: "Az?"

Azriel stilled for a moment. Then he looked over his shoulder, and his eyes found mine, amber in the warmth of the fae lights.

I tried to fight against the soft skip in my chest and stared at him.

Azriel blinked before straightening slowly, his deep voice sending rushs of soft tingles down my spine when he mumbled: "Are you okay?"

I nodded, feeling one corner of my lips rise carefully as I fiddled with my sleeve and my eyes flickered back and forth between his.

"You?"

Azriel's gaze wandered over my face as he slowly turned to look at me, eyes moving over mine, almost like he was looking for something. Then he nodded lightly.

Feeling the curve of my lips deepen, I shifted a little on the spot, mumbling softly: "You don't look like it."

Azriel blinked again, and his throat worked a little, something shifting in his jaw. The tightness in my chest grew a little as I stared at him, feeling my throat close up.

I knew that look, knew how it meant he was in his head.

"Th-this doesn't have to change anything." I quickly shook my head, taking a step forward as I stared at him. "We can just forget about it, if you -" My eyes darted over his face, something tightened sharply in my chest, and I blurted hastily: "I'll get over it; I can push it away, I mean I think I have for centuries, I can pretend, and it'll go away, and we'll just -"

I broke off, my eyes darted up, and my heart did one mighty flip.

Because I had just realised what in my hurry to make Azriel's doubt go away had slipped from my lips.

And because Azriel had straightened. His lips parted as his eyes rushed over my face, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.

Shit.

"What?" Azriel's voice was hoarse as he stared at me, and I nearly winced.

"I don't know;", my voice rose to a panicked, high tone as I widened my eyes and quickly raised my shoulders, "you looked so in your head, and I know we messed up, but I can't lose you, and if you think this was a mistake or you don't like me like that, I -"

The shadowsinger stared at me, and suddenly, his eyes brightened. Started to shine like amber held into the sun, and his shoulders sank like the tension of centuries had flooded from his body. His lips parted a little more as he stared at me, and suddenly, the shadow of a crease formed in his cheek.

"Push what away?"

Something started rising in my chest, fluttering wildly as Azriel's eyes pierced mine and the golden spots in his iris started to dance.

Azriel stared at me. Then he began to slowly walk towards me, iris bright and twinkling. My heart tipped and tilted, and I swallowed, my gaze darting around the room.

Rough fingers gently closed around my chin, and my breath got caught in my throat, simply stopping when Azriel mumbled: "No, no, come on, sweetheart." His thumb and forefinger gently forced me to look up, up until I met his eyes flickering over my face, his deep voice tickling my spine and something shifting through his gaze, careful, anxious, when he said softly: "Push what away?"

I felt my lips open, my heart pounding harshly against my ribs, and my brows arched on their own accord.

"Oh, come on; really?" My voice rose desperately, and in any other situation, it would have been hilarious.

"What do you want to hear; that kissing you made the fucking world stop? That you probably ruined me for every godsdamned male out there, because there's no way anyone could ever make me feel that way again? That I was too stupid to realise I've fallen for my best friend like a complete idiot, even though you make my heart beat out of my chest everytime you just look at me? That you're everything? Tha-"

Azriel leaned down, and the world tipped off its axis when he kissed me, his hand slipping to the nape of my neck to tug me closer, fingers tangling in my hair. Then he started to smile against my lips, slow and wide, and my breath caught when he dipped forward and kissed me deeper.

Digging my fingers into his sides, I tried to keep my heart from fluttering out of my chest as something rose so violently under my ribs, a soft sound broke from my throat when Azriel's tongue slid against mine, and a slightly shaking exhale left him.

Gently brushing his thumbs over the side of my neck, Azriel slowly pulled away, his nose nudging against mine when he mumbled roughly against my lips: "If it makes you feel any better, you definitely ruined me for everyone I'll ever meet."

A trembling breath left me, and I pulled my head back to stare up at Azriel, that flutter in my chest growing when I saw the light in his eyes when he stared back down at me.

"You -" My voice gave out, and one corner of Azriel's lips quirked a little.

"I?" His voice was a little hoarse as his eyes tracked over mine, and he swallowed softly. "Am in love with you."

My breath caught in my throat.

Azriel's eyes moved over my face, and I could feel a gentle exhale leaving him as his hands pulled me closer until I gently bumped into his chest and he dropped his head, staring at me, looking like he was trying not to swallow as he mumbled lowly: "I've loved you for as long as I can remember. And I'll probably still love you when we're nothing but dust under the sky. The only reason I didn't tell you sooner was that I was scared to lose you if you didn't feel the same."

I breathed out and closed my eyes as my heart rose in a wild flutter and a warm thrum built in my chest as my lips started to curve into a ridiculously wide, desperate smile. "We're so stupid."

I felt Azriel's soft huff more than I heard it. Then his breath brushed over my face, and the next second, his hands slipped under the underside of my thighs and lifted me up.

My legs locked around his waist like instinct, my breath hitching as I held onto his shoulders, and my heart skipped when my nose almost bumped into Azriel's, his eyes bright as he stared at me.

"Remember when you asked me how you're supposed to know what you're looking for and I said you just know?" His low, deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed and somehow managed a nod.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, then he dropped his head, and my breath caught in my throat, my eyes fluttering close when he leaned his forehead against mine.

"I was thinking of you." Azriel's quiet voice vibrated over my skin. "Because you became all I ever wanted, all I could see when I realised you were what I had been looking for my whole life."

My fingers curled into his hair, and a soft sound left Azriel's lips the same moment my heart rose into my throat.

"Sappy,", I whispered, my voice breaking a little, and Azriel chuckled against my lips before he pulled back, and something tipped over in my chest at the way he stared at me.

I blinked before looking down at his arms holding me up, chest pressing into mine, and something rose under my ribs.

"Now what?"

Azriel's lips curved, and my heart stumbled and skipped at the way his golden eyes twinkled when he raised a brow.

"Now I'll take you back upstairs and we'll do some more things that will ruin just thinking about anybody else."

no. 10 - the golden rule: friends make their own rules.

(and occasionally realize they aren't friends at all and they're idiots.)

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @ailyr92

[hiiikiko]

𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖇

[4: guess i have a type]

tlou m.list | series m.list

spiderman!ellie x reader

synopsis: you begin to recognize some similarities between ellie and good ol’ spidey… guess you have a type, huh?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Beep, beep, beep!!

You wake up with a grumble, last nights— er, this morning’s activities had done a number on you.. you weren’t used to so much excitement.

“What time is it?” you mumble against your pillow as you fumble for your phone, the bright light guiding your hand under the sheets, “Gotta call Gwen later.. let’s see.. FUCK!”

You scramble outta bed, tossing the blankets off you and your cat as well, who hissed at you very angrily for disturbing his fourth nap of the morning.

“S-Sorry,” you say to your cat as you scramble to the restroom, quickly brushing your teeth and rushing through your skincare routine. You decided to forgo the makeup today and instead just apply some light mascara and fix your brows up, maybe add some concealer.. and blush.. and maybe just a litt—, “No time!” you scold yourself.

You set your makeup bag down and run for the closet, rummaging around for .. “Ah, there it is!”

You snap the cheap metal buttons of your uniform together, the yellow polo with a red collar and pocket hugging your torso quite nicely, well, as nicely as a 30 year old uniform could, then you slid on the matching red skirt, your tights for extra warmth, shoes, and you can’t forget your name tag that read ‘Mary Jane.’

You quickly feed your cat some snacks, apologizing over and over as he ate and then made your way out. As you ran down the stairs, you pulled your trench coat on tight around you, hiding any part of your uniform.. you weren’t embarrassed about working at a diner but you knew your so-called friends, coworkers, and classmates wouldn’t be so understanding.. after all, you are from a well off family, so it would look funny.. besides, you don’t need anymore rumours going around about you.

As you’re about to round a corner, you bump into an all too familiar someone.

“Woah, slow down,” Ellie chuckled, her hands on your waist to stop you from toppling over.

“O-Oh, morning, Ellie..” you blushed, the memories of last night still fresh, you pulled the coat even tighter, you sure as hell did not want her to see you in this dorky uniform.

“Where you off to? You seem to be in a rush,” she commented, her eyes lingering on your form but before you could answer, your bus was pulling up.

“Sorry, Ellie, uh, chat later? I really gotta go!”

Ellie knew exactly where you were off to, she had stopped by that diner the other day to check out the schedule.. they should really get a better security system, she thought.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I know, I know! I’m sorry Darlene, I had a late nig—.”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Missy! Just get out there and start taking orders, okay?”

You nod, thankful she didn’t give you another lecture. You liked Darlene, she was like a really cool mom.. who smoked a lot.. and drank a lot.. but she let you keep all your tips so she wasn’t so bad, you gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Thanks, Ma.”

Darlene was like a mom to everyone in the diner, she treated everyone like they were one of her own, it was nice being apart of a ‘family.’

Your morning was full of truckers asking for refills on coffee, business men asking for the paper, ladies of the night coming in after a wild night, and.. Ellie?

“Morning” she smiled at your coworker as she seated her, that goofy lopsided smile made your heart flutter a bit.. actually, you couldn’t tell if it was her smile that was making your heart flutter or if it was the idea of being found out.

You had to hold back a gasp as you dove behind the counter, praying she didn’t see you and as you crawled your way into the kitchen, so close to freedom.. Darlene rounded the corner..

“The hell..? What are you doing down there?” she prodded you with her foot.

You put a finger to your lips and gestured for her to come lean down, she reluctantly did so, grumbling about her knees, “Darlene, can I please, please, please go on my 15 minute break? A girl I lik— uh, know is here..”

“Your break now? You can’t take that until.. another hour!” She pulled you up by your collar, like a mama cat carrying it’s kitten by the scruff.

“Please!”

“No, no way.”

“What if I said I’ve taken up smoking, huh? Then you LEGALLY have to let me take a break.”

“You? You take up smoking?” she scoffed, “Nice try princess, get out there, now.”

You whimpered and straightened your apron as she shoved you out of the kitchen, when Darlene said now, she meant yesterday.

Before the door could swing shut, Darlene poked her head out, “Oh, and we’re changing your section.. you’re now serving tables 11-17.” you could feel the shit eating grin’s aura as she laughed her way back into the kitchen.

God fucking damn it.

“Morning..” you mumbled as you pulled out your notepad, “What can I get you.. Ellie?”

Ellie’s eyes lit up as she laid them on you, “Hey, uh, Mary Jane?”

You rolled your eyes, “What do you want?”

“Hey, hey, slow down! Hm.. what can you recommend MJ?”

“The waffles here are pretty good.”

“I’ll have that then, oh, and coffee, too. Five cream and five sugar.”

You laugh, “Are you serious?”

She stared at you with a deadpan look, “Yeah?”

“Oh my god.. you are.. Ellie, that’s, like, a lot of sugar.. literally diabetes in a cup.”

“I don’t like the taste of coffee.. tastes like burnt shit.”

You scoff, “Then why do you drink it?”

“Keeps me up.”

“You don’t need the caffeine, just take the five sugar packets and you’ll probably still run the same since you’re already drinking sugar with a side of coffee.”

“Shut up, just get me my coffee,” she mumbled.

When you had served Ellie her food and coffee, you expected her to leave right after like every other customer ever but no.. like always, Ellie had to differentiate herself from the crowd. She did leave the diner but she waited in her truck outside. So, when Darlene said you could leave and head to school, Ellie was outside waiting for you.

“Don’t wanna keep lover girl waiting, do ya?” Darlene had said when you clocked out.

The blush from her comment still on your face as you walked to Ellie’s truck and knocked on the window, “Hey, what’re you still doing here?”

Ellie straightened up, “Uh, thought you might like a ride..?”

“You didn’t have to, Ellie.”

“Wanted to do something nice for you,” how could she be so effortlessly sweet.

You nodded and hopped in, her truck was an older model, a chevy. It was nice, inside smelled like pine and cologne..

Do her and spidey share the same cologne?

Now that you think about it, they have a lot of similarities… they’re both nerds, smell like pine, tobacco, and that cologne, same height, and the same music taste.. weird.

Could Ellie be.. Spidey?

You almost let out a laugh at the thought. There’s no universe in which Ellie is Spider-Man. For one, she’s too shy compared to the flirty masked man, two, she’s never been able to hold a conversation with you without turning it back to tutoring.. and three, she’s a girl.. not a man.

Guess I have a type.

“To school or..?”

“Uh, school.. can you drop me off at the cafe across the street? I wanna change before class..” you say, a little embarrassed.

Ellie doesn’t say anything, she just nods as she pulls into the cafe parking lot.

You huff, “Hey, Ellie? Um.. can.. can you not tell anyone? It’s not that I’m embarrassed but y’know.. kids at our school can be mean when it comes to class and..”

Ellie nods, “Don’t I know it?”

You feel a pang of guilt as she says that, you knew Ellie wasn’t as well off as your family was.. in the first two years of college, she was belittled because of it. You didn’t participate in it, of course, but you wish you hadn’t just stood by and turned the other way, “Sorry..”

“I-It’s fine, fuck, sorry I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.. but.. can I ask you a question?”

You nod, “Sure.”

“Why are you working there? You also model.. it can’t be to make extra cash, right? I mean your family is rich and—.”

You interrupt her, “I.. I know. My family’s rich and whatever but come on, there’s no way that my family, a family of politicians would ever want me to be a doctor. To them, being a doctor isn’t anywhere as good as being senator.. or governor..” you scoff.

“Fuck, sorrry..”

“Mhm.. so when I told my father that I wanted to be a doctor, he told me that I’d have to do it on my own since he didn’t see it as an ‘investment,” you fiddled with the hem of your skirt, “So that’s why I work two jobs and apply for all those scholarships..”

“I had no idea, Y/n.. that’s really something.”

You smile at her.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“Why the fuck does your name tag say ‘Mary Jan’,” she pointed at your name tag, the perplexed expression on her face eliciting a laugh out of you.

“Oh, that.. well, Darlene, er, my shift manager gave it to me like that. I guess Mary Jane was a waitress who worked there before me, she was a aspiring actor, apparently, she’s on broadway now.. so, I decided to keep it, hoping that her luck might rub off on me,” you giggled, “That and when I first started modelling, I had this creep stalker so I took on the name Mary Jane in hopes that it’d shake him off.”

Ellie laughs, “Makes sense.”

You nod and grab your duffel to head inside, “I’ll be right back.”

Inside the cafe’s restroom, you bury your face into your palms.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I can’t believe she saw me in this dorky uniform! I must look like a hotdog!

After putting on your normal clothes, you touched up your makeup and hair and made your way back out.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You ended up studying in the library late into the night. You had to pass this test coming up and you didn’t feel like seeing Ellie again. As much as you liked her, you couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated that she wasn’t affected by that night’s events… had she felt nothing?

You were too entranced in your thinking to realize that someone had sat right next to you at the bus stop.

“Hey, got a light?”

You rolled your eyes, prepared to fight off another disgusting man, “I don’t so why don’t you just—!” Your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes laid on the red and blue figure in front of you, “Fuck, sorry.. didn’t know it was you..”

Spidey laughed into his fist as he nudged you with his shoulder, “Why are you out here so late?”

“Ugh, I have this test in chem coming up so I had to study.”

“Really? Why didn’t you tell—.”

“What was that?”

“Uh.. why.. why didn’t you tell your teacher?”

You cocked your head to the side, “What?”

“Nothing!”

You chuckled, “Y’know, you remind me a lot of this girl I know. “

“R-Really?”

“Yeah, haha, you two are way too similar, so similar that I found myself wondering if you were the same person, “you giggled.

Ellie’s should left her body.

“Whaaaatttt, that’s crazyyyyy.”

You giggle, “I know, there’s no way you two are the same person.. I mean she’s way too awkward,” ouch, “she doesn’t look all that athletic,” damage: -20, “she also can’t really flirt,” i totally can.. just not without the mask, “Also, you’re a man and she’s a girl..” damn.

Spidey’ sighed, “Yeah.. I don’t know.. she sounds cool!”

You nod, a soft smile gracing your lips, “Yeah.. she’s ‘cool.’”

“Do you.. do you like her?”

You blush, “I don’t know.. maybe? Like, I like her, hell, we even made out but.. turns out that I was the only one affected by it.. she doesn’t even seem all that bothered or anything.. I don’t know, maybe I just played myself? I’m pretty sure that if I were the last girl on earth, she would still never go out with me..” you rub your eyes, “Argh, I don’t know.. she’s hot and cold, too hard to read.”

“Sorry..,” you hear Spidey mumble.

“At least I have you, hm? Good ol spidey, here to save the day.”

He looks at you, you wish you could peel his mask back to see what kind of face he was making, without thinking, your fingers lift up to his face. He notices and within the blink of an eye, he’s gone..

ELLIE’S POV:

“F-Fuck,” Ellie whispered, her hand on her chest to steady her breathing as she peaked around the ledge of a rooftop at you, still sitting and waiting for the buss, “That was too damn close, Ellie, what the fuck were you thinking? Shouldn’t be letting her get that close..”

Ellie felt guilty as she watched you all alone, you must be feeling pretty shitty right now, huh? I mean, not only has Ellie left you high and dry… but now, so has spidey..

Ellie lowered herself onto the ground, even though she left you down there all by yourself, she wasn’t gonna leave you vulnerable in New York City at night.. so might as well get comfy while we wait for your bus, right?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

taglist: @elliecoochieeater @wavesgocrash @g3latin @elliesflowersblog @usuck @elliessweetheart @miss-chananandler-bong @lvlymicha @prettywhnyoucry @g0d-wont-let-me-die @errorlovernotfound99 @thatgiraffefromtlou

[luvzshy]

Color Me Yours

Summary: When you find yourself with Billie Eilish during a quiet afternoon, you decide to paint her nails. As you create a masterpiece on her fingertips, the banter flows, revealing a playful side of your personalities that brings you even closer.

Word Count: 1,200

Warnings: nothing

a/n: this is an old draft but i love this

The late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of your shared space, casting a warm glow on the scattered art supplies that littered the coffee table. You were nestled comfortably on the couch, surrounded by paint tubes and brushes, trying to work on a new piece. Billie sat nearby, her attention drifting between her phone and your artistic endeavors.

“What are you painting this time?” she asked, her voice a soft hum that broke through your concentration. You glanced up, your heart fluttering a bit at the sight of her—messy brown hair, blue eyes sparkling with curiosity, and that relaxed look she wore when she was just being herself.

“Something colorful. But I think it needs a bit more flair,” you replied, twirling a brush in your fingers absentmindedly. “Maybe I should take a break. What do you think?”

“Definitely. You’ve been at it for hours,” she said, tilting her head in that way that always made you want to smile. “How about you paint my nails? You’re the artist here, after all.”

You raised an eyebrow, the idea sparking something playful inside you. “Are you sure you want my artistic touch on your nails? I might give you a Picasso instead of a manicure.”

She laughed, a sound that warmed the room. “Bring it on. I trust your ‘artistic’ judgment.”

With that challenge accepted, you gathered your supplies and motioned for her to come closer. Billie settled on the floor in front of you, her back resting against the couch as you pulled out a vibrant array of nail polishes.

“Alright, pick your colors,” you said, holding up the bottles like they were treasures waiting to be chosen.

She took a moment, her finger tapping her chin as she pondered. “How about… this one?” She pointed to a bright, electric green.

“Bold choice. I like it,” you said, and she smiled back at you, her excitement palpable. You couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly cool she looked, even just sitting there in an oversized hoodie and comfy shorts.

You began to apply the first coat, concentrating on the task at hand. The soft scent of nail polish filled the air, mixing with the faint smell of the paints on your table. As you painted, Billie chatted about her day, her thoughts tumbling out in that rapid-fire way of hers, and you found yourself hanging on every word.

“You know,” you started, trying to keep your tone light, “the secret to good nails is all in the technique. You’ve got to really embrace the art form.”

“Oh, is that how it works?” she teased, her eyes twinkling. “I thought it was just about looking pretty.”

“Please, it’s a delicate balance of precision and creativity,” you replied with mock seriousness, and she rolled her eyes, a grin spreading across her face. “What do you think I should paint on them? Something abstract? Maybe a portrait of you?”

“Definitely not a portrait. I don’t need that kind of pressure on my nails,” she laughed, leaning closer as you finished the first coat and set it to dry. “But I would love some flowers. You’re the artist; do your thing.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. Painting flowers was one of your favorite things. “Okay, flowers it is. But you have to promise to let me do all the designs. No more input.”

“Deal!” she said, crossing her arms dramatically.

As you worked on the design, your fingers danced with the brush, adding delicate petals and swirls of color. You could feel Billie’s gaze on you, a mix of admiration and amusement that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Wow, you’re really good at this,” she said, her voice softening as she watched you. “You make it look effortless.”

“Just a natural talent, I guess,” you replied, trying to sound modest but failing miserably. “Or maybe I’m just really good at pretending to know what I’m doing.”

“Either way, it’s impressive,” she said, and for a moment, the air between you thickened with an unspoken connection.

You paused, looking up from your work. “Thanks, Billie. That means a lot, coming from you.”

With the first nail complete, you leaned back to admire your handiwork—a vibrant bloom atop her fingertip. Billie wiggled her fingers, inspecting the design with delight.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” she exclaimed. “It’s perfect. You should start a nail art business.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t know about that. I think my calling is more about creating canvases, not decorating fingers.”

“Oh, please,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “You’re just being humble. But I get it. You want to keep all your art for yourself. I’m totally fine with being your living canvas.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And who knows? Maybe I’ll start charging you for this.”

She laughed, a sound that echoed in the cozy space. “I’ll pay you in hugs and hot chocolate. Fair deal?”

“Deal,” you said, feeling your heart swell at the thought of more afternoons like this—quiet, intimate, filled with laughter and creativity.

As you finished the last flower and applied a top coat, you admired the way her nails glistened. “All done! Now you can show these off to the world,” you declared.

Billie held up her hands, examining the artwork with a satisfied grin. “You’ve outdone yourself. They look amazing!”

You felt a rush of pride at her words, your fingers itching to grab your brush and paint something more. “Thanks, babe. You make a great muse.”

“Just wait until you see the masterpiece I create for you next time,” she winked, her playful tone sending a wave of warmth through you.

“Now that I can’t wait for,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The moment stretched between you, the comfortable silence filled with unspoken feelings. You both knew there was something special about these quiet afternoons, the way they wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

“Let’s get hot chocolate now,” Billie suggested, breaking the spell. “I think my nails deserve a celebration.”

You nodded, heart racing. “Lead the way, muse.”

As you stood up and made your way to the kitchen, you couldn’t help but think that this simple moment, painting her nails, was one of the most perfect moments of your life.

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop

Summary: Tav overhears Astarion complaining about their situation and decides to do what she can to make it a little better for him and she ends up surprising him in the process.

Tav isn't referred to by name. There might be a part 2 if this is well-received.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 1.8k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

It started when she overheard a passing comment from behind her, grumbled in response to something Lae’zel said.

From the earliest parts of the day, they’d been making their way through difficult terrain; surrounded by thousands of bugs and mud up to their ankles. She’d tried not to complain about it though Astarion never shared her focus on quiet suffering and he had a fair point.

Though they’d managed to set up a fairly comfortable camp outside the grove – not wanting to impose nor deal with the druids for too long – they hadn’t really found any chance to properly bathe since their abduction.

The late afternoon glinted into her eyes as an idea presented itself.

She slipped away from the group almost excitedly to find the abandoned house where she’d spied it not long ago. After making sure it contained no nasty surprises, she’d left. It didn’t really have a roof and the majority of it had been burned down by some form of magical fire but most importantly, it had a tub.

One night together shouldn’t have made her so weak for the elf but despite all his sweetened words and falsities, he captivated her attention. She knew he meant little by it but sometimes those words made her days brighter regardless.

And she wanted to return the favour given how the muddy path came from her badly thought-out route.

The river running close by provided her with clean and cool water, not the easiest to move in large amounts but still able to fill the tub. It didn’t leak (a minor miracle) and she managed to use a little more of her already-exhausted magic to get a few charms warming the water up.

She smiled at her work proudly and left the charms to do her work while she made her way back to the grove to get some soaps.

Her shoulders shook a little as she eyed her small surprise. Proud and excited, she now faced the greatest of tasks.

Encouraging Astarion to actually step away from camp.

“No, thank you,” he said, dismissed her with the casual wave of a hand. “I’ve had quite enough traipsing through the forest for one day. If you want to continue finding every possible swamp insect to attack you, you’re welcome to be my guest.”

She sighed. “But I have something to show you. It’s a surprise.”

He smiled, strained. “My, aren’t you a desperate little thing. Maybe I’ll join you a little later in the night but for now, I’m afraid I don’t have the energy or the interest.”

“No, it’s not…” she groaned. “It’s just a bath, alright? I overheard you complaining about being dirty earlier so I found one for you.”

“Did you now?”

“Yes. Come along. Those runes aren’t going to last forever and I know you’re going to fuss about the water temperature.”

Astarion chuckled and she immediately knew he didn’t believe her. “I appreciate the creativity, darling. Really, I do, but you’ll find direct offers are far more effective on me.” He leaned closer and she became suddenly aware of how many eyes watched them from around the camp. “But if you’re really going to such lengths, I’m not going to deny you forever.”

Flushed, she stepped away and ducked her head. “Fine. I’ll use it myself but you better not complain once more about it.”

She ignored the slightly concerned expressions of her friends as she stormed back into the tree line by herself. Why she even thought he’d appreciate it… she shouldn’t have even bothered offering it to him. She really needed to be more selfish if she wanted to not get turned down by the vampire spawn again.

It stung more than she expected it to, even if she wasn’t offering anything more than an actual bath.

She brushed her fingers over the surface of the still-warm water when she got there and sighed. It still felt like a waste, even if she used it. Amazing how homesick she’d grown for her house when stuck out in the wild with nothing more of comfort than a single bedroll.

Maybe she should have stolen one of those beds from the goblin den they cleared.

The floor creaked and her hand flew to her weapon, spun around only to find a very arrogant elf who appeared annoyingly surprised.

“My, so it wasn’t even a ploy alone,” he said. “You genuinely managed to find a bath. I respect your dedication if nothing else. There are certainly easier ways of seeing me undressed.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the water. “I was trying to do something nice for you but as you’re not interested, feel free to return back to camp.”

He stepped close enough to brush his fingers against her cheek. “Whoever said I wasn’t interested?”

“You did. In very direct words.”

“Well, things change. I’ve decided you’re quite right. It’s been far too long since I got to wash and you’ve been so sweet, setting it all up for me. I couldn’t be rude and turn you down right now, could I?”

Cursing the elf beneath her breath for his indecisiveness, she moved to walk past him. “Enjoy.”

Once again, she surprised him and Astarion took a second to respond, calling to her as she reached the edge of the charred flooring.

“You’re not joining me?”

She looked back at him. “Am I meant to be?”

“Why, yes. I can hardly be expected to do things like washing my hair all by myself. What if I get lonely or attacked?”

She frowned at him but he kept smiling at her in the same insistent way he did when he wanted something. The corner of his lips pulled up as though he knew a joke and didn’t want to share it. She couldn’t help herself but relent under his burning gaze; he’d done the same thing when she’d agreed to let him drink blood from her throat. Perhaps she should be concerned with where her willpower went when it came to this man.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll help with your hair if you really need.”

“How fun.”

He insisted on being as distracting as possible when he got undressed. His constant glances at her met nothing in return but she couldn’t help glancing at the scars as he lowered himself into the tub.

Their ridges made her uncomfortable. Not knowing what it said frightened her for Astarion’s safety rather than her own.

Nothing good ever came from runes carved into flesh.

“There’s no need to act so shy, beautiful. You’ve seen me in far more compromising situations than this.”

She wouldn’t call their night together compromising but she ignored the comment regardless. His soft sigh of relaxation as he settled into the water worked wonders for clearing up her irritation.

How he managed to be so magnetic astounded her. She found a spot to sit behind him and slowly, gingerly, began to help him with his hair. Despite being ridiculously soft considering how long they adventured in the wilderness, it needed some careful care and attention.

She took care to stay gentle when she found where tangles turned into knots and worked them free without pulling. He gave a small hum when she had to give a soft tug and she took it as an okay to use a little more force.

“We don’t have much to work with but I did manage to get some things from the grove,” she said. “It won’t be up to your standards but I don’t think anything really is.”

Cagey about his past, all she knew surrounded the small snippets he gave her when upset or ranting. She doubted he’d ever had much time to fuss over which hair products he used, too busy watching over his shoulder for a constant threat. He still did so now when he thought nobody could see. His meditation never held him deeply as sleep took her.

“Regardless of whether or not it’s professional, I won’t complain about your skills with this.”

“Skills at detangling your hair?”

“At winning my favour.”

She frowned a little and focused on the white locks where they curled between her fingers. “I’m not only doing this because I want to impress you.”

“I’m sure you have other motivations,” he hummed, teasing. “But you know you’re more than welcome to join me whenever you’re ready. You chose a good-sized tub for both of us.”

She ignored him again, instead focusing on working out a tight knot. Once done, she encouraged him to lean back a little so she could massage the soap gently into his hair, rubbing soft circles against his scalp until his eyes fluttered closed and the smallest hint of relaxation showed in his expression.

Good. He carried far too much tension and she stopped herself from continuing the slight massage down to where she could see the stress in his neck and shoulders. How uncomfortable it must be but she didn’t want to encourage whatever strange idea he had about this situation.

Still, even if she hadn’t planned anything, she couldn’t deny her attraction.

She wanted to press her lips to the pale skin of his neck and trace the path of the water droplets as they pooled against his collar bone. She wanted to trail her hands over his sides and pull him close.

She coughed to stop her thoughts before they ran too far.

If the parasite in her skull didn’t kill her soon, she may just die from the way this elf made her heart pulse unnaturally fast.

“Everything alright?”

He sounded… well, still as flirtatious as ever but more concerned than she thought he would. She snapped her attention back to him and almost lost herself in those stunning eyes.

If she wanted to, she could so easily fall prey to his sweetened words and he really wouldn’t mind. He would encourage it even.

She finished washing the last of the soap from his hair and stood up somewhat uneasily. Pride still shone in her chest as he sat up properly, appearing far cuter than she anticipated with his hair falling flat against his skin.

She saw the invite on his lips before he even said it. Watched him flick whatever switch he had to draw her in and she hurried to leave.

“I’ll see you back in camp, alright?”

His confused expression followed her as she stepped away from the building but he didn’t call her back. She found her way back to camp with a slight heave to her chest and a desperate need for a distraction.

Though she really should have thought it through before she asked Lae-zel to spar with her. The bruise kept her up for the entire night – long enough to realise he didn’t come past for a taste of her blood in the evening.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

When Eddie found out that today’s D&D session was relocated to Steve Harrington’s new place, his blood pressure spiked.

The kids were all excited to go scope things out, which he couldn’t even attempt to argue with, so he decided to just keep his cool and coast through the night as if it were anywhere else.

Because that was a better plan than making a scene over nothing.

He and Steve have been cool, for the most part, since everything happened. The guy, no matter how charismatic or friendly he is, gives Eddie the shakes in a lukewarm, neutral sort of way. Makes him feel like he’s about to crawl out of his skin or smile so hard his face explodes.

And then there’s his roommate.

From what Max has shared within their little circle, Steve went and shacked up with Billy Hargrove. Probably the only other guy in town that Eddie has a fearful crush on.

He sees less of Hargrove. Only hears about him, really. Smiles and nods when Steve mentions his workout equipment taking up the garage and how the guy goes through groceries like nothing else. Max swears up and down that they’re friends, or something. Heavy emphasis on something.

Just another reason for Eddie’s hands to sweat when he pulls into the cracked driveway and sees the garage door wide open.

Steve is standing there with his arms folded over his chest, right beside the bench press. Striped polo tucked into his jeans, looking like perfect boy next door material.

Then there’s Billy.

Everyone else files out of the van, but Eddie stays put behind the wheel. Fingers wrapped around it like a tether. He almost jumps when Steve looks over his shoulder and smiles.

When Eddie finally climbs out of the van, the kids have all filtered into the house, leaving just the three of them outside.

It shouldn’t feel like they’re on a different planet, with the door still wide open and voices so close by, but it does. Steve nods at him, and Eddie shoves his hands into his vest pockets.

“How goes it?” Steve greets.

Eddie nods. Then shrugs. Then chuckles nervously, eyes flitting briefly to the bench press behind the other brunet.

Billy breathes softly, counting under his breath, but all Eddie can manage to think about is his happy trail peaking out from under his shirt, and how his shorts are almost too little. He catches a glimpse of the edge of a puckered, pink scar before he tears his eyes away.

“It goes,” Eddie manages, clearing his throat when his voice cracks. “What about you?”

Steve gives a half shrug.

“We just finished unpacking the last few boxes this morning, so we’re pretty much settled.”

There’s the clink of the barbell setting on the rack, followed by a grunt as Billy sits up. Eddie feels a little perverse just looking at him.

When did he get so thick?

“I’ve been settled since the first day,” Billy muses. Grabs the bottom of his shirt and lifts it up to wipe his face. “It’s all your damn trinkets that took so long.”

“Trinkets like the toilet brush and silverware?”

Steve bumps Billy’s shoulder with his hip, and the blond chuckles. Reaches out and sets his hand on the brunet’s other hip from behind, snaking a couple of his fingers under the belt loop there.

“Exactly.”

Steve shakes his head amusedly. Turns back to Eddie and almost makes him jump out of his skin again.

“So, how’s tonight gonna work?” he asks.

Eddie’s brows shoot up.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, the game,” Steve clarifies. “We probably just have to watch, huh?”

With both sets of eyes trained on him, Eddie’s blood runs cold.

“Yeah,” he says. Fiddles with the inner fabric of his pocket. “We’re in the middle of a campaign, so it’d be too late to introduce new players. You could join the next game, though, if you want. I could show y—“

“Pass,” Billy interrupts.

Steve turns and flicks his temple, which earns a hiss.

“Don’t be bitchy,” he scolds.

“No offense,” Billy says with a chuckle. “But I’ll probably just hang back out here.”

Now, Steve pouts, and Eddie mirrors it internally.

“All by yourself?”

Steve reaches out to lightly comb his fingers through Billy’s curls, and the blond cracks a smile.

“Unless somebody wants to join me.”

“So my choices are watch the nerd game or watch you be sweaty in the garage? I’m having trouble deciding, they both sound so fun.”

“I’m done, that was my last set,” Billy muses. “We could go on a walk, or crack open a couple of beers or something. Stevie’s choice.”

The brunet considers his options for a moment. Eddie watches with bated breath, internally wishing that Steve chooses to stay — as anxious as he was to come over, the thought of either of them leaving makes him feel worse.

Steve presses his lips into a line and tilts his head to the side.

“I promised Dustin I’d sit in on this one,” he says. Eddie’s stomach fills with relieved butterflies. “C’mon, there’s snacks. We can hang out on the couch and share popcorn.”

Steve’s doe eyes must be a weakness of Billy’s, because he huffs and rolls his eyes.

“M’kay, but I’m gonna shower first.”

The simple agreement has Steve’s face lighting up.

“Good, I don’t wanna have your stinky sweat on me anyway.”

As if being issued a challenge, Billy grins mischievously and stands up. Opens his arms around Steve, grabbing his opposite wrist and locking him in against his chest.

Steve squirms and pushes, huffing from laughter as he struggles, and it’s painfully obvious how genuinely trapped he is, unless they take things to the floor.

All Eddie can think about is how hard Billy’s muscles look, bulging beneath his skin, still glistening with sweat. How he’d look good rubbed down with oil.

“Oh yeah, pretty boy? Scared I’m gonna dirty you up?”

Steve snickers, face mere inches from Billy’s. The blond’s eyes flit down to Steve’s lips.

“Stop it, or I’m gonna have to shower too!”

“I mean, there’s enough room…” Billy murmurs flirtatiously. Loosens his grip ever so slightly, just enough so that Steve stops struggling. “If you aren’t too chicken.”

For a moment, Steve just huffs softly with that grin still plastered on his face. Then he shuffles one of his arms loose and pats Billy’s chest.

“Go shower, freak.”

Billy tsks, but lets go. Reaches down to grab his towel and his previously discarded Walkman and headphones before he heads inside. Steve watches him until he’s gone, and chuckles when Billy passes by the couch. Shoves Dustin off of the arm where he sits and sends him straight into Mike and Lucas’ laps.

There’s bickering from inside. Eddie finds himself smiling a bit, too, especially when Steve turns around to face him again.

“So, what was the plan? Am I ordering pizza?” Steve asks.

Eddie stares for a second, registering that he’s being spoken to, and shrugs.

“If you want,” he says. Then chews his lip, looking away momentarily. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Steve looks on with faint amusement, likely because Eddie’s ears are burning red at the tips.

“You and Hargrove…” Eddie begins.

“Yeah?”

The words are right on the tip of his tongue, but suddenly there’s a lump in his throat.

“Do you… how’d you guys…” Eddie trails off. Knows that his face is painting red because Steve’s smile widens. “How’d you guys become roommates?”

Steve reminisces as he hums thoughtfully, and shrugs.

“I dunno, it sorta just happened.” Steve’s expression dims ever so slightly, and he purses his lips. “We’d been acquaintances for a bit after all the, y’know, stuff happened. We only really clicked after his dad skipped town.”

Eddie nods. He’d heard about Billy’s dad before, mostly through Max.

And only really about the fact she’s glad he’s gone.

“Seems like you guys are pretty solid now.”

“People on the block think we’re dating, so, yeah,” Steve chuckles.

Eddie’s brows raise slightly.

“You’re not?” he blurts.

For a beat, there’s silence. Steve’s face changes to something unreadable. Something between almost offended and surprised, and something else. Contemplative.

Before Eddie can backpedal, his skin steaming with embarrassment, there’s a loud thud as Dustin swings into the open doorframe.

“Guys,” he says, and makes them both jump. “You coming or what?”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs.

He looks lost in thought as he turns around, and Eddie wants nothing more than to haul ass down the street as fast as he can, but he falls in step behind Steve instead.

Because the sooner things get started, the sooner he can leave.

[chereus]

Oblivious Boyfriends | D. Winchester

Summary - Dean had been neglecting his boyfriend bedroom duties and you were getting frustrated [set in season 10ish, they’re fully moved into the bunker]

Pairings - SoftDom!Dean x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Dom Dean, daddy kink, if you squint there’s angst before the blinding smut, spanking, choking, hair pulling, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink, hot angry Dean, sexual tension, talk about love and marriage??? Kinda??? It was done tastefully though I promise!!!

Cherry’s notes: Whew! That was spicy—in honor of my new phone I decided I’d post this as a thanks to people who’ve supported me throughout my writing journey <3. I’m still getting used to this writing format that tumblr has so pls be nice!!!

P.S ~ This may have been sorter than intended due to tumblr deleting half of this while I wasn’t looking. Still upset about that. Also sorry for the time delay because of said tumblr issues, had to rewrite most of it + an ending -_-.

Word count: about 1.2k

You were kind of being a bitch today. But in your defense, your boyfriend Dean had been so busy with work that he hardly had time to satisfy your in the bedroom needs. When you’d try and communicate that this was becoming an issue you’d been brushed off every. single. time. So naturally you started to get frustrated and decided to take control into your own hands for the time being.

“Y/n, have you seen my gun?” Dean announced himself as he stumbled into the library. You just continued to sit there and do your research without so much as a morsel of acknowledgment.

He cleared his throat and tried again, “Y/n have you seen my gun?” only this time he got a small clench of the jaw and a silent flare of the nostrils. Still with no response he decided to try a third time when you suddenly just got up and left leaving him completely alone in the library.

Wondering what he did he promptly followed you, but once he realized he wasn’t getting far by just following in your footsteps he bravely spoke, “Okay, seriously, is this how we’re acting today?”.

This immediately caught your attention but you showed no signs of making a huge scene so you quickly and calmly stopped while turning around to face him while replying with, “I don’t know Dean, is it?”.

He really didn’t like the passive aggressiveness in your tone. It hadn’t helped that you’d quickly spun around and once again resumed ignoring him. Being ignored was one of his top ten pet peeves and you knew it. That’s exactly why you chose this method to piss him off. Get him all worked up, he’d have to take his frustrations out on you then.

“What the hells’ that supposed to mean?” He countered, following you into the kitchen.

“It means that if you don’t know then it’s not worth talking about.” You said truthfully. Suddenly Dean found himself recalling the days to see if he’d missed a birthday, a dinner, an anniversary, anything that would constitute this type of treatment and he came up empty.

As you noticed Dean sitting there dumbfounded you took it upon yourself to grab one of his beers from the fridge and march back out successfully initiating phase one.

You’d been toying with the idea for quite some time but never had the means or justification until now, you were going to go around the house and dump all of the alcohol.

This was seemingly easy considering after your and deans little spat, he’d decided to give you some space to cool off seeing that you were angry with him. It gave you the perfect opportunity to do what you needed to do. This was phase two.

Phase three was to just sit back and watch the anger seep from deep within Dean Winchesters veins until he couldn’t see anything but red.

Sam had been on a hunting trip for the last couple of days and you were thankful because the things he would’ve heard…

“Y/N! Where is all the beer?!” Dean hollered as you passed him in the kitchen.

“I dumped it.” You simply said. Deans face went slate.

“You-you…dumped it.” He said as both a statement and a question. You could see the vein on the side of his neck start to pop and you knew he was close to blowing a gasket at how he had been treated.

“Yup. I dumped it. Decided that we’re now alcohol free. Have fun with your green juices and detox tea.” You were beginning to walk away when he grabbed you and spun you back around so that your chests were touching and he was holding your wrists on both sides of your head.

“Is there something that needs to be sorted out? Cause’ I’m getting’ real tired of the way things have been going around here.” He seethed. He probably just wanted a nice cold beer after working a long hard case all day but you weren’t about to let that happen. You were horny and determined to do something about it.

You got closer to his face and begun to look into his eyes while simultaneously brushing your lips together with his. Nudging your nose against his you whispered, “if there was a problem you’d know.” And you ripped yourself away from him and swiftly dropped out of the room beginning to feel yourself getting wetter by the instant.

Not even ten seconds later Dean came marching out of the kitchen behind you demanding that you work this out by pushing you against the hallway wall. You responded by grabbing him by his belt loops and smashing his hips against yours. He’d finally gotten the hint.

“Is this what you wanted? Was my pretty baby just horny and desperate for her daddies attention?” He said as he grabbed you by the throat and kissed you. You whimpered at the gruffness of his touch, desperate and craving more.

“I need you to answer me, y/n. You know daddy doesn’t like it when you go silent.” Dean enforced. You let out the tiniest little ‘yes’ lost in your own world of pleasure and fulfillment.

“Louder, y/n.” He commanded putting slightly harder pressure onto the sides of your throat that were sure to bruise later but you didn’t care. The feeling of his body on your body was enough to drive you wild.

“Yes!” You deeply moaned wrapping your hands around his hips and flushing your pelvis’s together. Dean leaned down and planted an earth shattering kiss on your lips, tongue swirling around with your own while he still held the position of holding your neck firmly in place without making you dizzy from the lack of air.

“Up.” Dean forced. Slipping his hand under your thighs and wrapping your legs around his torso. When you were situated your hands found their way to his hair to gently tug at the roots.

Hiking you up by your ass you were looming over him with every adjustment. Your hands made their way to either side of his face while you ferociously kissed him. He started to stumble his way down the hallway, careful not to drop you. You moaned as his grip on your ass got tighter the more aroused he was getting.

The warm smell of cinnamon from your hair, the combined scent your vanilla bourbon perfume and your honey body lotion, it reminded him of home. Although you’d been getting in spats and arguments all day you’d still somehow made him feel loved and cared for by the way you’d responded to his touch.

It was at this very moment he decided that he wanted to marry you. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, or hell— maybe not even next week, but someday If you’d let him.

Finally stumbling into your shared room dominant Dean was back in action. He gently put you down and then shoved you back onto the bed signifying the fact that he was done playing the game you’d been playing all day.

When you adjusted yourself on the bed he immediately ripped your pants off annoyed at the extra fabric keeping the two of you apart. Dipping down he gently put his right hand to your jaw and repeated what you had to him earlier. Brushing your lips together your noses tenderly touched and he gave you one last affectionate kiss before looking down at your tank top and ripping it in two.

Your eyes widened with desire, you’d never seen Dean like this and it was extremely sexy. The mix of softhearted kissing and rough manhandling was driving you insane. Kissing down your stomach the torn shirt was quickly discarded never to be seen again.

Only in your bralette and underwear you start to feel cold with Dean still fully clothed. Grabbing him by his hair you pull his head up from your panty line. Giving him a single peck on the lips you start to peel off the layers of flannel and cotton until his top half was fully nude.

Reaching down to undo his belt buckle he stops you with a questioning glare. He shoves your hands away and moved away from the bed and to the closet where a medium sized black box was laying on the top shelf. Getting that box down you knew that something freaky was about to happen.

Pulling out four long black ropes he looks back at you with a smirk. You gulp and back away slowly, however he was faster and started tying your left wrist tightly to the headboard. Positioning you in the middle of the bed he ties your right to the other side of the headboard.

Deciding to discard the last two ropes, he resumes your playful foreplay now teasing you at the fact that you can no longer touch him in the way you wanted to.

“M’ gonna fuck you in this pretty little bra. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Been walking around all day getting on my nerves so I’d have no choice but to fuck the aggression out. Well, you should be careful what you wish for.” He says menacingly pulling off your underwear.

Leaving your bare pussy in the cold Dean jumps off the bed and begins to slowly undress. And I mean slowly. You thought you were about to combust when you finally saw Dean unbuckle his pants and slowly drop them.

Getting back on the bed Dean slides his hands up and down your curves on your sides, trailing down to your hip bones and finally your throbbing heat. It really was no surprise that you’d gotten worked up so easy considering you and Dean hadn’t had really any sex in almost four months. Orgasms, yes. Sex, no.

It was killing you not being intimate with Dean like you used to. So when he finally put his cold hands on your warm aching pussy you could’ve cried in relief even though it was only through your panties you could feel his fingertips rubbing up against your clit causing you to softly moan in delight.

Gripping the tightly tied ropes Dean tormented you by pulling off your panties and just sat there. Staring. It would’ve made you insecure had you not known that Dean would’ve loved you no matter what you perceived your vagina to look like.

“Would you let me put a baby in you?” Dean asks out of the blue. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched, “In the future of course. Your still on birth control, right?” He thought out loud. You were speechless so all you could do was nod and let out a small ‘uh-huh’.

Dean could tell you were now really tense after that question so he took his hands and smoothed them over your stomach and said, “Don’t worry. Not until your ready. But until then, I’d like to practice.”

Your muscles were slowly untensing as Dean assured you there would be no baby making until your ready. “If we’re practicing, do you mind going in raw? I’d like to be closer with you.”

Dean was now blushing but tried to hide it through dominance. He spread your knees apart and quickly dove in licking and sucking your clit. Pulling at the ropes, you moaned and groaned until you were so close to cumming that you could cry.

Dean could tell how close you were so he sped up his tongue motions and hooked his arms around the base of your thighs so you couldn’t move anywhere.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned as your first orgasm took over you. Dean wasted no time in sliding his manhood into you with great force.

Putting his hands at your hips he began roughly thrusting into you at an angle that kept hitting your g-spot over an over again. As you were getting louder and louder with your moans Dean reached down in between your legs and rubbed your clit. He was fucking you so hard at this point you were seeing spots.

“Yeah. Your such a good girl. Taking it so good for me. Gonna be doing this to make a baby one day, huh sweetheart. Look at me.” He said as your eyes were starting to droop. Your eyes tiredly opened and you seen Dean look at you like your the queen of the world. His world. With adoration and love.

“Gonna let me fill you up, hmm? Gonna let me take care of you while your carrying our child? Gonna let me go out at three am to fill some ridiculous request of bread and butter pickles from that grocery store half an hour away?” Dean asks with a fond smirk on his face. Like he’d be so excited to be able to do those things for you.

Just hearing how happy it would make Dean to be your caretaker in your time of need makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Not just because he’s still fucking the life out of you.

Once you get close enough to the edge Dean starts to get greedy. He wants you to cum and he wants it now. “Give it to me y/n. Now.” He says wrapping his hand around your throat and pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow.

Seconds later it felt like fireworks had been let off in your stomach with how hard you were orgasming. At one point you were certain that you were seeing stars.

“Fuck! Dean!” You moaned as you made other noises that you had no idea you could even make. Before you could even come down Dean slipped out of you and was undoing the ropes.

“All fours. Now.” Was the command. Still a little dizzy, you comply wanting to see where this was going.

Upon getting on all fours dean was already behind you thrusting upwards at a new angle. Letting out a deep groan you dropped to your elbows and grabbed the sheets.

“Having that attitude all day really drove me nuts all day, y’know that? Now I get to fuck it out of you and I couldn’t be happier.” He said slapping your ass hard. You yelped and tried to go forward but his hands at the crease of your hip and thigh bone wouldn’t let you.

“Your not going nowhere. Your gonna sit here and let me breed you like a good little slut.” You couldn’t deny hearing those words made the sex ten times hotter. When you leaned your head back to moan deans hand was there to grab you by your hair and continue fucking your pussy until you exploded.

Pulling your hair was the final step in your third and final orgasm. Pulling away slightly at the overstimulation Dean speeds up, chasing his own climax. With one last grunt Dean came spilling into you with force.

“Oh God,” you shuddered, suddenly very cold. Goosebumps lining your skin, you get off the bed leaving Dean to fend for himself.

After you cleaned up you got back in bed with Dean. “Did you really mean what you said? Do you really want kids with me?” You asked as you lifted up the covers where Dean currently resided.

“Well yeah, I’d also like to put a ring on your finger too whenever you’ll let me.” Dean said shyly playing with the edging on the covers.

You quietly smiled and kissed Dean as you settled down. “I love you, and I want to marry you. But kids are out for a while. At least until I’m sure one of us isn’t going to end up dead with the shit we deal with on the daily. I won’t put another generation of kids what we went through. I just won’t.”

Although Dean was disappointed, he understood. His childhood sucked and he’d do anything to make sure that his kid didn’t live the same life.

“But we can still practice though, right?” Dean asked cheekily. You laughed, “yes Dean we can still practice.”

You both chuckled when you heard a voice booming from the kitchen, “Dean, where is all the beer?!” It was Sam.

“You were kidding though about the beer weren’t you?” He asked and you laughed harder.

“No, I wasn’t. I was committed. I really dumped all the alcohol in the house. Sam will understand given his healthy lifestyle.” Dean groaned and sunk into the mattress. You were still cracking up at the whole situation now that you felt better after your release.

[moonstruckme]

Hi, what about a remus x reader, where they get lost in the forest after separating from their friends during a fight with death eaters and remus has to keep reader warm with his body heat.

Thanks for requesting lovely! This is sort of like my apocalypse au, except it's pre-relationship

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus is limping something terrible. Each step looks more painful than the last, and yet he’s only quickened his pace since you’d first noticed it about an hour ago. 

You’ve been trying to think of what James and Sirius do when he gets like this. James would be kind but tenacious about it (“Everything alright, Moons? Hip bothering you? Why don’t we have a break? No, come on, we can’t have our best and brightest out of commission if something happens; they’ll kill us all if you’re distracted, Moony.”) whereas Sirius would probably just make something up (“Alright, the pebble in my shoe has worn me down. We’re stopping for the night.”), and you doubt either of those will work for you. 

You were really mostly friends with Sirius before this…this whole thing (it feels a touch dramatic to call it the end of the world, but it has certainly felt like the end of your world), but you’ve become necessarily closer with the other boys over the past few weeks. Needing to rely on one another for survival will do that to you. Still, you’re nowhere near penetrating the bond they have with each other. 

Without James or Sirius to help you, you decide to take your own, simpler approach. 

“Let’s stop.” 

Remus turns to look at you, bemusement warring with agitation on his face. 

“It’s going to be dark soon, and we won’t find them then,” you reason. “We should set up camp.” 

Some of the knee-jerk indignation in Remus’ expression cools, but he still seems frustrated when he says, “James has the tent.” 

You know that. “I know that,” you say, “but aren’t we better off trying to get some rest and starting again in the morning than running ourselves ragged looking for them all night?”

Remus sees the logic in it, you know he does, but his worry for your friends is fighting against his better judgment. You can understand that; you’ve been trying to squash a similar anxiety all day. You’d seen Sirius and James apparate away from the skirmish you’d gotten into with some death eaters just a second before you and Remus had apparated yourselves, so you know that they didn’t get captured or killed. Not there, at least. There’d been some miscommunication in where you were all apparating to, though, and you and Remus had found yourselves on a bluff with no clue where the other half of your band had ended up. 

You comfort yourself by thinking about how competent they are, that they’re too smart to die in the woods, and they’ve got all the supplies besides. James being the one to lug that heavy pack around has finally paid off; you’re sure they’re thinking about how you and Remus are managing without food or camping supplies, but you’d rather be worried about than worry. 

You let your pack slip from your shoulders and kneel to start going through it. Remus is stubborn, but he’s too nice to argue with you if you make it clear that you’ve already made the decision to stop. You’re right; he drops his own pack beside you a second later. You pretend not to hear his tiny exhale of relief as he lowers himself to the ground. 

You and Remus have been carrying the nearly useless, lighter stuff. Extra clothes, a tarp for when it rains, the line you all hang your clothes on if they get wet, a first aid kit. You dig to the bottom of your pack, hoping someone’s forgotten a bag of dried fruit or something down there, but no luck. 

“Maybe…” You look around you. “Maybe we use some of the clothes to pad the roots of that big tree, and then we could use the tarp to block the wind.”

Remus nods. “That’s a good idea,” he says, the vexation fading from his features along with the pain. “How about I work on the protection spells while you grab some brush for a fire?”

“Sounds good.” You give him a smile, setting a hand on his shoulder when he goes to stand up. “You can do it from there.” 

You don’t give him a chance to argue, moving into the woods to collect sticks and pieces of dried grass. When you return, the campsite is gone, and you force your breaths to even despite the feeling of wrongness as you push through the barrier Remus has put up. You find him setting up the tarp on the other side. He looks better already, you think contentedly, and you begin selecting the thickest clothes for your nest. 

The silence between you isn’t easy, exactly; it’s bogged down with fear for your friends and of the death eaters that had already tracked you down once before. Still, you like that Remus doesn’t feel the need to fill your silence with chatter. Before long the two of you are curled up atop your makeshift beds, breathing frigid puffs of air into the night. You’d given up on adding more brush to the fire awhile ago. Short of sleeping with your head two inches from the flames, there’s not much you can do to combat the biting cold. It’s all you can do to keep your teeth from chattering as you press your knees tightly to your chest, huddling under the extra jackets Remus had found to use as blankets. 

There’s no hope of sleeping when you’re trembling like this, but you pray Remus is better off. James always says he runs hot as a furnace, so you’re hoping his own body heat is keeping him warm beneath his layers. You’d hate to think of what the cold probably does to his stiff joints. 

“You awake?” Remus’ breath should be hot against your neck, but by the time it crosses the space between you it feels as frigid as everything else. 

You roll over to face him. “Y—yeah.” Your breaths are shudding, lips so cold you can hardly feel them moving. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” he promises, the gentleness back in his voice now that he’s had a chance to rest. “Cold, though, so I imagine you must be even colder.”

You try to shrug, but movement only makes the chills worse, your body quivering violently against your will. 

Remus makes a soft pitying sound. “You want to share our coats?” 

He means your makeshift blankets. “I do—don’t want—to make you colder.” 

“That’s not how bodyheat works, love,” he says, sounding almost like he could laugh. He shuffles toward you, dragging his share of the spare clothes with him. “Come on.” 

You move towards him obediently. Remus brings you under the big coat he’s using for his torso, and you almost sigh at the warmth in there. You let your legs uncurl, getting as close to him as you can. 

“Oh.” It’s a surprised sort of coo, Remus’ arm wrapping around you to draw you closer. “Sweetheart, you’re freezing. Here, roll over.” 

He helps you turn with a hand at your hip, drawing you up against him. He really is emanating heat, warmth seeping from his front into your back and spreading from his arm around your waist to your entire midsection. Remus reaches over you, adjusting one of the jackets over your face, and you breathe hot air into the space, warming yourself. Your shivers die down as he begins to stroke slow, soothing circles about your navel. 

“Better?” he asks, once you’re nearly motionless against him. You hum, and you feel the quiet chuckle that reverberates through his chest. 

“Yeah,” you say, each exhale fanning hot against your face. “Thanks, Remus.” 

“I know what you were doing earlier,” he says, embarrassment quieting his voice. “I can look out for you too, you know.” 

You’re thinking of responding, but Remus’ body is so warm, and his hand on your stomach is so comforting, and you don’t get a chance.

[bunnist4rz]

EXPLOSIVE SECRETS; BAKUGO KATSUKI

synopsis; During a study hall, classmates tease you and Bakugo about your obvious tension, but Bakugo denies having feelings for you. Later, you confess that you love him, and though he initially brushes it off, the chemistry between you two becomes undeniable. After sharing a passionate kiss, Bakugo admits his feelings but wants to keep your relationship a secret. Despite his tough exterior, the bond between you both grows as you navigate this new dynamic. word count; 1k content; bakugo katsuki/reader, male!reader, set in canon au, fluff with a bit of angst in the middle a/n; Hi guys :33 I've been slowly getting back into mha lately which in turn is reviving my deadly crush on Bakugo (I'm so sane about him I swear) I hope u guys like it :33

"Hey, you okay?" Midoriya's voice pierced through the quiet study hall, his eyes darting towards you, who sat with your head in your hands.

"Yeah, just... a lot on my mind," you replied, your voice muffled by your palms.

Mina leaned over from the adjacent desk, her curiosity piqued. "What's up? Did you and Bakugo have another explosive argument?" she teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Your cheeks reddened as you sat up abruptly, knocking over a pencil that rolled away. "N-no! Nothing like that!" You scooped it up, trying to ignore the smirks forming around you. It was no secret that you and Bakugo Katsuki had a complicated relationship. You were like oil and water, but somehow, you two had found a way to blend

"Well, you're not fooling anyone," Mina whispered, leaning in closer. "Your bond is so thick, it's practically a plot device."

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes darting to the side where Bakugo sat, seemingly engrossed in his own studies. But he could feel the heat of your gaze, a silent challenge that made his pulse race. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his cool. How did Mina know?

The whispers grew louder as the rest of class 1-A turned their attention towards them. The atmosphere was a mix of curiosity and amusement. Denki leaned over his desk, grinning. "Is there something going on between you two that we should know about?"

Bakugo's head snapped up, his fiery gaze locked on the reader. "What the hell are you talking about, Pikachu?" he barked, his voice echoing through the room.

Mina giggled, unfazed by the outburst. "Oh, come on, you guys. It's so obvious." She pointed a finger at the reader, then at Bakugo. "You two have been acting like a couple of lovebirds for weeks now."

The class erupted into laughter and cheers, and you felt your face turn a shade darker. You glanced at Bakugo, expecting to see anger, but instead, you found the blond's expression unreadable.

Bakugo stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Shut up, all of you!" he roared, slamming his fists on the desk. The noise reverberated through the room, silencing everyone. "We're just... training partners. That's all!"

The class exchanged glances, some smiling, some nodding in understanding. You on the other hand felt a mix of relief and disappointment. You knew that Bakugo wasn't ready to admit their feelings in front of everyone, but you had hoped...

"Oh, really?" Mina's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Then how do you explain the way you two are always together, finishing each other's sentences, and... oh, I don't know, the little heart-shaped explosions you leave behind?"

The room burst into laughter again, and this time, even Bakugo couldn't help but crack a smile. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, despite the embarrassment. If their classmates knew, it couldn't be that bad, right? Maybe this was the start of something new.

"Alright, alright," he sighed, deciding to play along. "I guess we do have a pretty explosive... friendship."

The word 'friendship' hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt like a challenge. Bakugo's eyes narrowed slightly, but then he smirked, a hint of amusement playing in his fiery gaze. "Yeah, something like that."

Mina leaned back in her chair, a knowing look in her eye. "Well, whether you admit it or not, you two are pretty cute together." She winked at you before turning back to her textbook.

As the chuckles died down, the rest of the class returned to their work, the occasional snicker or whisper breaking the silence. You couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the thought that everyone knew. Or at least, suspected. It was strange, but also oddly comforting.

The rest of the study session was filled with sly glances and smirks from his classmates, but you found that you didn't mind. In fact, you felt a strange sense of euphoria, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the day, you gathered your things and walked out of the classroom, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. As you exited the building, the cool evening air hit you, and you couldn't help but look around for Bakugo.

There he was, standing under the streetlight, his back turned to the school. He was punching the air, practicing his quirk. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

"Hey, Bakugo," you called out, you voice steady.

Bakugo spun around, his eyes narrowing. "What do you want?" he snarled.

You took a step closer, your heart pounding in his chest. "I just... I wanted to say thanks. For earlier. For not... I don't know, for not making it a big deal."

Bakugo's expression softened, if only slightly. "Don't thank me," he grunted. "It's not like it's true."

Your hope grew. "But if it was, would it be so bad?"

The blond looked at him for a long moment, his fists clenching and unclenching. "What are you saying?"

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. "I'm saying... I think I might be in love with you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and potent. The world seemed to pause, waiting for Bakugo's reaction. And then, with a snort, the tension broke.

"Haha, what a joke," Bakugo said, turning away. "Get over it."

You felt like you've been punched in the gut, but he forced a laugh. "Yeah, of course. Just a joke."

But as you watched Bakugo stride away, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, the blond was hiding his own feelings behind that fiery bravado. And if so, how long until they could both face the truth?

The next few days passed in a blur of schoolwork and training. The class remained supportive, their teasing never crossing the line into cruelty. You tried to focus on your studies, but your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment in the study hall. Had Mina been right? Was your bond something more than friendship?

One afternoon, as you were packing up to leave, your hand brushed against something warm and rough. You looked down to find Bakugo's hand resting on the same stack of books. The electricity that zapped between both of you was undeniable, sending a jolt up your arm that made your heart race.

"W-what are you doing?" You stuttered, pulling your hand away.

Bakugo scowled, his cheeks faintly red. "Just... get out of here," he grumbled.

You didn't need to be told twice. You grabbed your bag and darted out of the classroom, your heart pounding in your chest. The hallway was deserted, the last of the students already dispersed to their after-school activities. You didn't know where you was going, only that you had to get follow him.

"Why'd you say that?" he demanded, his voice low and intense.

You swallowed hard. "S-say what?"

"That you... that you might be in love with me."

The air was thick with tension, and for a moment, you couldn't breathe. "Because it's true," you murmured.

Bakugo took a step closer, his eyes searching the reader's face. "Don't play games with me," he growled.

You met his gaze, your voice firm. "I'm not playing. I just wanted you to know."

For a moment, y'all stood there, the space between you two charged with unspoken emotions. And then, without warning, Bakugo closed the gap, his hand cupping your cheek, and his lips crashed into your own.

The kiss was explosive, full of the passion and fire that had always characterized their relationship. Your eyes widened in shock before closing, your arms wrapping around Bakugo's waist, pulling him closer. You could feel the blond's heart racing in time with your own, the heat of your body seeping through yall uniforms.

When you finally pulled apart, you both were breathless, your eyes locked. The hallway spun around you, the only sound your ragged breathing.

"Does this... mean..." You started, your voice barely a whisper.

Bakugo cut him off with a sharp nod. "It means you're mine," he said, his voice gruff. "And I'm not sharing."

You felt your heart soar, your cheeks flushing with a newfound warmth. You leaned in again, eager to deepen the kiss, but Bakugo stepped back, his expression unreadable.

"But we're keeping this between us," he warned. "I'm not ready for the whole school to know."

You nodded, your heart racing with excitement. "Okay, Bakugo," you said, your voice shaky. "Our secret."

Bakugo's eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he gave a curt nod. "Fine," he said, turning on his heel. "Let's go home."

As you walked through the empty halls, you couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between them The whispers and teasing had brought them closer than ever before, and you couldn't wait to see where this newfound understanding would lead.

[farmhandler]

lil prompt: wade gives logan and laura (and himself ofc) an at home spa day bc god knows they could both use it. (optional: with vanessa's help)

“I’m not good at this. Why do you keep making me do it?” Logan asked.

Wade sighed explosively, as though Logan's utter lack of interest in painting Wade's nails was a personal failing.

“Laura needs a role model now more than ever. How will you help paint her nails if you can’t even paint mine?”

"I think I could do a better job with my eyes closed," Laura said. Her eyes were, in fact, closed due to the cooling mask Wade had forced on her first thing when they'd come over. "Why do I have this on?"

"Your eyebags could give mine a run for their money," Wade said.

“She’s fucking eighteen years old," Logan said. "She doesn’t need my help painting her nails. And I'm pretty sure our 'eyebags' are genetic.”

“Then what about me, daddy?” Wade said, fluttering his lashes at Logan. Logan kicked his leg under the table.

Wade wasn't to be deterred. He wiggled his fingers imploringly, waiting, and Logan decided, fuck it, and he tried. Genuinely, really tried to paint Wade's nails, and paint them however he liked.

"Painting outside the lines," Wade said as he watched him make no attempt to try and keep the paint on his nail. "Your technique intrigues me, Peanut."

"Shut it. I've got this," Logan muttered. He finished painstakingly drawing a little star on each nail and then scraped away the paint around Wade's nail afterwards with tissues. He figured cleaning up this way was better than trying to be precise on the first try and failing anyway.

Wade kept a straight face the whole time. Then he lifted his nails and bit his lip, hard.

“Oh my god," he breathed. "What are those?"

"They're stars. The blue background is a night sky." Logan pointed the bottle at him. "You fucking do this shit with this tiny ass little brush. I'm not made for precision."

"You're telling me, sweetie. The edges of my nails are awful. They’re so bad. I love them,” Wade gushed. He smiled at Logan with genuine glee, and Logan felt warm all over in a way he fucking hated, because he'd been feeling it a lot more lately.

Then Wade’s phone rang.

“Can you answer that for me, sweetums? I’m currently very wet and trying to harden up.”

Shaking his head, Logan leaned forward and answered the call without looking. It was Vanessa, letting them know she'd found the LED lamp for the nails Logan had bought not knowing they needed a stupid lamp to work. Why they asked him to do this shit when he obviously didn't know what he was doing, he'd never know.

When she showed up, she also had a bunch of other shit Logan didn't want to have anywhere near him either.

"Sorry I took so long. I had to go to a couple places to find the lamp." Vanessa swept past Logan after tugging him down for a kiss on the cheek by the door and set her bag on the table. "You started without me?"

"Just some nail painting. And giving Laura's eyes a rest."

"My eyes are freezing," she said from the couch.

Logan sat down next to her, because it felt safer to do so. Laura hated this stuff as much as he did. Or at least he assumed she did. He'd never asked.

"You have any idea what all this is?" he asked her, once she lifted the mask from her face. Laura hummed.

"Some of it." She handed him one of the samples Vanessa had dumped from wherever she'd gone. "You should use this."

"Nighttime eye cream?" he read aloud. "And this is supposed to do what?"

Wade was sitting waiting for his nails to dry, so Vanessa walked over and ripped open the packet. She then dabbed the cream under his eyes and rubbed it in. When Logan tried to yank his head away, she grabbed his chin and made him sit tight.

"Come on, put up with it for five seconds," she said. "Trust me, you'll like this one."

The scent wasn't overpowering, which was a plus. Still strong, but that was most things. The cream had a surprisingly soft texture. Once she was done, he wasn't going to admit it felt kind of nice, but he didn't need to. Wade grinned at Logan like a loon.

"You don't have to look so fucking smug about all this," Logan muttered.

"You lost the bet, so I don't even need to pretend," Wade said cheerfully.

"Because you cheated," Logan hissed.

"And I didn't get caught!" Wade clapped his hands together, apparently deeming them dry. "All right, now let's get serious."

About half an hour later, Logan really was regretting letting Wade get away with cheating.

He had an itchy mask on his face, his hair was pinned back by a headband with kitten ears on it, and Wade could not look any more pleased if he tried. Logan had assumed the nails that needed a lamp to cure them were for Laura or Vanessa, but everybody insisted on putting them on him. So he sat there while these sparkly pink nails dried, and the facemask did whatever it was doing on his face.

Logan hated it, but Laura...Laura was laughing. She's been laughing. She thought Wade was funny, but Vanessa and Wade together really set her off. Logan had never seen her laugh so much.

Logan exhaled. Maybe regret wasn't the right word. And maybe he didn't hate it.

"You ready for your mud bath?" Wade asked, sitting down next to him.

"You'd better be joking, bub."

"Only slightly. I do have a hot tub that's been bath bombed with your name on it. And all the supplies I need to work on your feet while you do. Don't worry: I have fully and mentally prepared myself to pick the fungus out of your toes."

"Ew," Laura said to their right. Vanessa was in the middle of pulling her hair back to join the face mask crowd.

I'm not doing that, Logan almost said, and then looked at Laura, and Vanessa.

If he let the night end now, sure, he'd be more comfortable, but...well, he didn't hate all this.

The candles were nice. Wade had picked really subtle scents, and nothing too fruity or overly clean. They reminded Logan of his cabin, the one he hadn't visited in years. After a rain, when the forest surrounding it smelled heavy and sweet in a way he couldn't explain to anyone who didn't get it.

"Yeah, all right," he said. Wade looked surprised.

"You okay?" Wade asked, inexplicably. He scooted closer to Logan and touched his knee. "I really won't force you into it, if it's that bad."

"It's not." Logan touched his hand. Their nails looked completely mismatched, especially his. On his gnarled hands, the pink stood out badly. He lifted them into the light for inspection. "I could use a bath. You coming in with me?"

It was both a tease and a genuine question. Wade laughed, startled, still grinning that shit-eating grin.

"And fondle your toes directly? Absolutely."

Logan thought back to that kiss on his cheek. So he kissed Wade's cheek, and when Wade made a soft sound of surprise, Logan shifted his mouth a few inches over to Wade's.

Now Wade looked stunned. Someone cleared their throat behind them.

"No fondling," Logan said, rising to a stand.

"A little fondling," Wade said, finally recovering enough to speak. He leapt up and followed Logan.

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof (3/?)

Part Summary: But she just keeps on murmuring, lost in her dream. You try to make sense of her muffled words, but it's hard. And then, out of nowhere, she sighs your name. It's not loud, but it's filled with a kind of longing. Your heart skips a beat. She's dreaming about you. 

Or the one where Wanda accidentally pulls you into a very vivid dream

Chapter word count: 2.8k+ | Tags: Slight Somno, Explicit Dream Sharing, Sharing A Bed, Mutual Pining, Maybe Resolved Sexual Tension | Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Author's notes: I have no explanation for this, Your Honor.

Series Masterlist

-

The sleeping arrangement becomes less complicated following your return to Wanda’s room, days after you splurged on a hotel suite.

It’s less complicated in a sense that Wanda did away with the pillow barrier and began sleeping on the bed with an ease, almost as if you weren't there. While you found her newfound nonchalance puzzling, you've learned your lesson about making assumptions. After the recent embarrassment, you've become more careful about reading too much into things.

But with the pillow gone, so too was Wanda's warmth that you'd grown accustomed to when you first started sharing her space. 

The soft "good morning" greetings, ones that used to set a gentle tone for the day, disappeared. Most mornings, she's up before you, the other side of the bed cool to the touch. On the rare occasion you do wake up before her, you hustle through your morning routine, eager to vacate the space. You hope this gives her the peace of a bathroom unoccupied and the luxury of starting her day in solitude, without the need to navigate around someone else in her sanctuary.

However, as days meld into one another, you notice that Wanda's behavior has reverted to how it was in the beginning–not cold, but seemingly indifferent. The occasional smile she throws your way feels more like a courtesy, perhaps an acknowledgment for saving her life, rather than a desire to be your friend. When you talk, the conversations remain on the surface, never diving deep. Gone are the days of sharing little secrets, dreams, or thoughts; now, the chats are cordial, almost scripted.

She said everything was okay, but it sure doesn't feel like it. That awkward moment with her pillow keeps replaying in your mind. Every silence between you two makes you wonder if you really did make her uncomfortable.

As the day wraps up, you get into bed and notice Wanda's already asleep, facing away. You let out a deep sigh. You can't keep avoiding the topic. Listening to her steady breathing, you decide: tomorrow, you'll talk to her and try to fix things between you two.

-

Except, something unexpected happens in the middle of the night.

Still deep in slumber, Wanda drifts over to your side, her leg carelessly resting on yours as she nestles closer, with your arm inadvertently near her chest.

From your time sharing the bed, you've come to understand that Wanda can sleep soundly through almost anything.

Yet, as you carefully attempt to wriggle out from beneath her embrace, wanting to give her more space, it has the opposite effect. Wanda's grasp tightens, pulling you closer. Before you can fully comprehend the shift, she's straddling your thigh. A sudden heat radiates from her core, making contact with your leg, and an involuntary gasp escapes your lips.

In her deep slumber, Wanda starts to murmur softly, words flowing in Sokovian. Her voice, hushed and sultry even in sleep, becomes the most tantalizing sound you've ever heard.

You can feel the faint brush of her lips against your neck, sending ripples of anticipation down your spine. Her fingers begin to dance lightly across your exposed abdomen, each touch igniting a spark that makes you swallow hard. This is uncharted territory, teetering on a delicate edge. 

Overwhelmed, you can only manage a soft, “Wanda?” hoping it might wake her up.

But she just keeps on murmuring, lost in her dream. You try to make sense of her muffled words, but it's hard. And then, out of nowhere, she sighs your name. It's not loud, but it's filled with a kind of longing.

Your heart skips a beat. She's dreaming about you. 

But before you can articulate what this means, an arresting image takes shape in your mind: the bed beneath you creaking softly as Wanda, devoid of any garments, moves atop you. Her head is thrown back, a cascade of her hair tumbling down her back, her face etched with raw emotion. The soft, dim light of the room captures the gentle curve of her breasts, her erect nipples, rising and falling in time with her rhythmic movements. Each bounce, each motion pulls you deeper into the vision.

It must be Wanda's powers. Steve once tried to explain the intricacies of her abilities, but all you gathered was that she could craft intense illusions in one's mind.

You never imagined you'd experience it firsthand. Especially not in such a... provocative manner.

As quickly as that consuming image formed in your mind, it's torn away, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You feel a rhythmic motion against your leg. It's Wanda. The dampness of her panties seeps onto your skin, unmistakably warm and wet. Each subtle movement of her hips sends a tangible pulse through the both of you. 

In your desperation, you whisper, “Wanda?” trying to pull both of you from the heated dream world. But as you reach out to her, another overwhelming image infiltrates your thoughts.

This vision is even more raunchy. Wanda's thighs frame your view, her glistening core just inches from your face. You can see every detail: the way her soft folds part for you, inviting, enticing. Hesitantly, your tongue reaches out, sinking into her.  The scent of Wanda, both heady and sweet, envelops you. A moan escapes your lips, relishing that first taste—you from the dream and quite possibly, the real you. You delve deeper, your tongue exploring, stretching her, teasing every sensitive spot. With each push of your tongue, Wanda gasps, her moans getting louder. She rides your face with abandon, grinding down against you, chasing her pleasure. 

The vision recedes, much like the previous one, leaving behind an unsuspecting Wanda nestled against you.

The line between what's real and what's in your mind becomes dangerously thin. Wanda's fingers clutch at your waist with a desperate strength as she grinds fervently against your leg.  

You can't help but let out a moan, “God, Wanda…” The pleasure is as much yours as it is hers.

Any caution, any reservations you held onto, start to slip away.

Your thigh instinctively rises, pressing tighter to Wanda, matching the urgency of her grind. Her breathy moans become more desperate, and you can feel the tension in her body as she gets closer.

“Ah, Y/N…” Wanda hisses, and for a moment, you think she has finally woken up. But when you risk a glance down, her eyes are still firmly shut, the rocking motion of her hips becoming more frantic.

The tension builds, and soon Wanda's entire frame stiffens. As she crests the wave of her climax, you can feel her wetness, warm and abundant, seeping through onto your leg. The sharp bite on your shoulder punctuates the moment, her moan echoing softly in your ear.

As her tremors subside, Wanda's weight presses into you more heavily, her chest heaving against your side. You can't help but glance at the evidence of her release smeared on your leg. On an impulse, you gather the moisture with your fingers, hesitating just for a brief second before tasting her. The slightly sweet, unmistakably intimate taste causes a shudder to travel through your body. The throbbing heat between your own legs becomes nearly unbearable, making you shift restlessly beneath her.

Wanda rolls away, and suddenly, it's like a splash of cold water hits you. You just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking, what the hell just happened. The warm fuzziness from earlier turns to guilt. You can't help but wonder if you crossed a line, even if it was all so unintentional. 

You can't take the weight of it any longer. Every second on that bed, every rustle of the sheets is a cruel reminder. Quietly, you slip out of the bed, taking one last glance at Wanda, her form peaceful, oblivious to the storm inside your head.

The cold floor greets your feet as you head towards the door. Your steps echo, each one sounding heavier than the last. The corridor outside seems darker than you remember, but maybe it's just your mood. You keep your head down, not wanting anyone to see the guilt written all over your face.

The door to your cell looms ahead, and entering feels like you're punishing yourself, willingly locking yourself away. But in some twisted way, it feels like what you deserve right now. The cold walls seem like old friends, and the thin mattress beckons you to lie down. The bite on your shoulder pulses with every heartbeat, and you hug your knees close, trying to find solace in the dark. 

The hope now is that sleep, if it eventually comes, will help you find clarity or at least forget, if only for a few hours.

-

The next morning, Wanda stirs, her hand lazily reaching out to the space next to her, expecting to meet warmth. Instead, the sheets are cold, the bed emptier than she remembered.

Yawning, she stretches her limbs, and that's when she feels it – the discomfort between her legs. The sticky reminder of her dream. Her face turns crimson, and she's momentarily taken aback, but soon gratitude takes over as she realizes you're not there to witness her state.

Shuffling out of bed to freshen up, the water from the showerhead splashing on her helps clear her head. Yet, as much as she tries to banish the thoughts, the memories remain persistent. Since the day she walked in on you with her pillow, an image has planted itself firmly in her mind. The visual of your naked form, vulnerable, lost in pleasure—it was an image she couldn’t shake off. 

Wanda has been skillfully evading you for days. While shared spaces in the facility meant you were bound to cross paths, Wanda became remarkably adept at staying out of sight. You'd walk into the dining area, she'd just be leaving. You'd be heading to the training room, and she'd abruptly turn, murmuring about forgetting something.

It's not that she's afraid of confrontation. It's the exact opposite. She fears the pull she feels toward you, the visceral need to close the distance. And with the memory of that day—of catching you so intimately involved with her pillow—she fears she might not be able to control herself. The trajectory your relationship has taken prior, the slow-build of a bond, was at a dangerous tipping point. All it might take is one lingering gaze, one innocent touch, and she worries that restraint would crumble.

(She believes she's keeping her feelings hidden, contained within her, but the truth is, they already surfaced in the most unexpected way. If only she knew.)

-

Throughout the day, you remain conspicuously absent from the usual spots in the compound, making Wanda's self-imposed avoidance unexpectedly effortless.

Wanda tries not to think about it too much, assuming you were called away on a mission.

-

As the night deepens, Wanda finds herself glancing repeatedly at the door, anticipating your return. She adjusts the sheets, fluffs the pillows, and even listens for any signs of movement outside her room.

But the hours tick by, and you never show.

-

As another day passes and another night comes, Wanda's worry deepens. Every night, she finds herself waiting, hoping you'd walk in. But you never do. Unable to stand the suspense any longer, she finally turns to Vision, the only person in the compound who always seems to know where everyone is.

“Vision?” she begins hesitantly, catching him in one of the quiet hallways. 

Vision blinks at her, his eyes briefly flickering in that peculiar way of his, as though processing data. “Wanda,” he begins, his tone always measured, “What do you need?”

"It's about Y/N. Have you seen them? They haven't been back to my room in days," she blurts out, a little more desperately than she intended.

Vision pauses, analyzing for a moment. “I have noticed that they've been spending a significant amount of time in their old cell. They've mostly remained isolated.”

Wanda's heart sinks. The thought of you confining yourself to that cold, lonely cell pricks at her heart. “Did something happen? Did they get a mission or…”

Vision interrupts gently, “No mission, Wanda. As far as I'm aware, they've chosen to stay there.”

Wanda's throat tightens, the realization that her behavior might have indirectly pushed you away, making her nauseous.

“Thank you, Vision,” she says softly, her voice wavering slightly. 

She needs to find you, to talk things through, to clear the air.

Whatever it takes to pull you once again out of that goddamn cell.

-

You're there, curled into a tight ball, deep in slumber when Wanda finds you just moments later. The soft rise and fall of your chest is the only indication of life in the otherwise still cell.

Wanda pauses at the doorway, taking in the sight of you. Her eyes slide over your arms, noticing the muscle lines even in sleep. She looks up to your face, which seems so calm and quiet. Your lips are just slightly open, and she wonders what you might be dreaming about.

But then the reality of the scene hits her. 

The cold, unyielding floor you're sleeping on, the way you've curled up, trying to find some comfort where there's none. It’s a far cry from the soft bed upstairs, and a pang of guilt hits her hard. She’s been so focused on avoiding you, she didn’t think about where you'd end up. 

This isn’t right, and deep down, she knew it. 

With cautious steps, Wanda approaches you, her fingers itching to reach out and pull you into her arms. But she resists, instead crouching beside you. 

“Y/N,” she whispers gently, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder, giving it a light shake.

You stir, eyelids fluttering open to meet her concerned gaze. For a brief second, confusion paints your features, but as recognition dawns, you sit up abruptly, creating distance.

“Wanda? What are you doing here?”

She takes a deep breath, looking a bit anxious. “We need to talk.”

You shuffle backwards as Wanda catches the slight distance in your eyes, realizing that her recent coldness has probably hurt you more than she thought.

You say nothing and hug your knees to your chest, half of your face hidden from Wanda.

She hesitates, and then slowly says, “I know why you've been hiding in here.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Images flash before your eyes, moments from that night replaying, guilt flooding you once again. “Look, Wanda, I know what I did, and... and that's why I'm here,” you stutter out, pointing to the bleak surroundings of the cell. “It's where I deserve to be.”

Wanda, however, looks perplexed. “Wait, what are you talking about? I'm here because I've been... avoiding you. And you've been avoiding me… hence, you coming back to this cell, right?” She genuinely seems unaware of what you're alluding to, which only confuses and surprises you more.

Shit.

Now it's you who have to explain.

But you remain mute, eyes darting everywhere but at the wary girl in front of you.

“Y/N,” Wanda prods. 

You're convinced that this is it. Surely, with the power she possesses, she'd obliterate you right here and now for crossing such a line. Because you have no choice now but to tell her the truth.

“I…” You hesitate, taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words to confess your sin. “That night you came close to me in your sleep... I woke up to it, to you... acting out your dream on me.” Your face flushes as you meet her gaze, expecting disgust or anger. “I didn't stop it, Wanda. I should have woken you up, pulled away, but I didn’t. I... I let it happen. I’m so sorry.”

Wanda's eyes go wide, and her cheeks flush a bright red. “You... you did what?” 

You'd think her tomato-red cheeks were cute if the situation wasn't so mortifying. But right now, it's clear she's grappling with what you just said. She stammers, trying to find her words. “I... I had no idea.”

For a brief moment, memories of waking up with a sticky sensation between her legs and remnants of a vivid dream about you come flooding back. Wanda never thought she'd acted on it, not in reality. The realization is mortifying, but also, she can't help the faint flutter of excitement that twists in her stomach, thinking about how you let it happen. 

“I... I can't believe it,” she whispers, torn between embarrassment and something… forbidden.

For a drawn-out minute, neither of you shifts. It's as if you're both frozen, trapped in the aftershocks of your confession and Wanda's conflicting reactions to it. But before either of you gets the courage to make the first move, the cell door clangs open loudly. 

Both of you jump, startled by the sudden intrusion.

Steve Rogers strides in, looking relieved. “There you are, Y/N. And Wanda?” His brows raise in surprise, likely not expecting to find the two of you in your old cell.

“I have some good news. Wanda, you can have your room to yourself from now on.”

Wanda blinks, looking both relieved and disappointed. But before she can voice any of it, Steve turns to you with a small smile. 

“Because Tony has now assigned yours.”