#forever would rather piss myself then have my crotch touched

[toxicangelrobotyuri]

[triplexdoublex]

I’ll Try Anything At Least Once

Pairings: Colson x Reader 

Warnings/Tags:  Watersports/piss kink/wetting , omorashi/desperation, biting, praise kink

A/N: Here have another one of my older reworked fics while I finish up the other 3 fics i have going right now. I promise the next one will be brand new.

“Baby, you’ve barely touched your water,” Colson says from where he sits across from you at the table of your favorite casual restaurant, located in your local mall. You’re there celebrating your two-year anniversary.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, it’s just that this steak is so damn good,” you say as you reach for your water glass. Colson watches intently as you take a large gulp, almost finishing the whole glass. “Guess, I was thirsty,” you laugh. “The food’s delicious, but it’s definitely salty.”

“Aye, after dinner, I was thinking we could go get you some new lingerie and I, uh… I kinda wanna try something new tonight.” He smiles as he refills your water glass from the small, glass pitcher on the table.

“Ooooh, like what?” you smirk. “You know I’ll try anything at least once.”

“You’ll see,” he teases. “Now drink up.”

You’re not sure what his current obsession with your water intake is, but you drink nonetheless. By the time the waitress returns to see if you would like dessert, you’ve finished your second glass. Colson immediately refills it as you look over the dessert menus.

“Colson, what the hell is up with you and the water tonight?” you ask, perplexed by this odd behavior. “For God’s sake, I’m about to piss myself.”

He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, his  blonde eyelashes fluttering closed briefly at your words.

“Maybe that’s the point,” he speaks, his voice low and lust-filled.

“Colson, you can’t be serious,” you practically laugh, taken aback.

“I am,” he admits with blushing cheeks, “but if you’re not into it, just forget I said anything, alright?” he states, sounding slightly defensive.

“Hey… no, look, I’m sorry,” you apologize as you reach out to stroke his arm. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all. I meant what I said earlier; I’ll really try anything at least once.” You smile apologetically and can’t help but to be intrigued by his kink.

You decide to forego dessert and make your way to the lingerie store where Colson picks out a simple, yet sexy, silky, white bra and panty set with lace detail.

“These are gonna look so good on you when they’re all soaked and clinging to your pussy,” he whispers seductively in your ear from behind you, placing them in your hand. You never thought you’d be into this kind of thing, and maybe it’s just the lust in Colson’s voice or the three cups of water weighing heavy in your bladder right now, but something deep in your pelvis stirs at his words.

Colson stays close behind you as you head to the cashier. The line is long, as it always is when the holidays are near, and the need to use the bathroom is getting stronger with each passing minute. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you sway your hips in desperation, trying to resist the urge to physically hold yourself in public. Suddenly you feel Colson’s hand on your hips, stilling their movements.

“Baby, you’re killing me right now,” he says softly, digging his chin into your shoulder from behind you. “Feel what your little dance is doing to me?” he breathes in your ear, discreetly pressing his clothed erection against your backside.

“Colson!” you warn, reaching for the various lotions and body sprays that line checkout area, smelling them to distract yourself and ultimately picking out a few to purchase.

When it’s finally your turn to check out, you place your items down and brace yourself with your hands on the counter, crossing your legs at the ankles and squeezing your thighs together, effectively holding back the stream threatening to run down your legs.

After the transaction is complete, Colson takes the bag, strategically carrying it in front of himself. “Let’s head to the bathroom,” he suggests as you exit the store, heading back into the mall.

You’ve never felt more relieved to hear those words, but the feeling is short lived. Once inside the single stall family restroom, you begin frantically pulling down your panties as you make your way to the toilet, but Colson stops you.

“Unh-uh, that’s not what we’re here for,” he teases with a smirk, stepping between you and your destination, palm pressed against your shoulder.

“Colson, please!” you plead, clutching at your bare crotch, panties halfway down your thighs.

“No,” he answers sternly, “but feel free to keep begging. I love how needy and desperate you sound,” he says huskily. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

“Then why are we here?” you groan, beginning to pull your panties back up.

“Aye, not so fast,” Colson places his hand on the crotch of your panties, stopping you from pulling them back up. “Baby, these are all wet,” he says, caught off guard by his accidental findings. “It better not be…” he pauses, trailing his hand up your inner thigh and discovering your slick folds. “Mmmmm, good girl. You like holding yourself for me, don’t you?” he teases, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Maybe,” you smirk with blushing cheeks, unable to tell where the pressure of your full bladder stops and the pooling sexual desire in your abdomen begins, the two sensations mingling as one. Colson smiles, reaching into the pink striped bag of your purchases and pulling out the matching bra and panty set he bought you.

“Here put these on,” he says, tossing them to you. “That’s why I brought you in here.”

“Now?” you question. “Why don’t we just wait until we get home?”

“Cuz when we get home, I just wanna take them off you… after you wet them for me, that is.” 

You do as you’re told, stripping out of your current undergarments and replacing them with the new ones as Colson watches intently, resting against the wall.

“You should help me with this while we’re in here too,” he teases, cupping his obvious erection, showing off the large outline through his jeans.

You squat down in front of him, not wanting to kneel on the public restroom floor, the positioning making you all the more desperate for relief. Colson unzips his jeans and you tug them down to mid-thigh, followed by his boxers, his bare ass pressed against the cold tile wall.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other grasping his length, he guides himself into your mouth. You bob over his length half-assed and sloppily, too focused on clenching your muscles trying not to pee. Colson notices your lack of skill at the moment, taking over and pumping himself, but he doesn’t mind. The sight of you squatting and squirming, hand pressed firmly to your core is enough to bring him close to the edge.

Assisting the best you can, you lick and suck on the head of Colson’s length as he strokes himself, occasionally slapping the tip against your tongue. The fullness of your bladder is becoming close to unbearable, and you let out a muffled, high-pitched whine as a strong urge to release washes over you, causing you to clutch yourself with both hands. The sound and sight is enough to send Colson over the edge.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna c-cum,” he chokes out in a barely audible, throaty moan as he guides his length to the back of your tongue, spilling down your throat. You do your best to swallow every drop, running the tip of your tongue over his slit, making him shudder before pulling him from your mouth completely.

“Listen, I’m all for pissing myself for you baby, really I am, but I’d rather it not happen by accident in public, so if we could head home now, that would be great,” you practically beg as you throw your dress back on.

“Oh, you’re no fun.,” he teases, doing a slight jump to get his skinny jeans back up over his ass and zipping them.

“Colson, please!” you plead, bouncing in desperation.

“Kidding, kidding,” he laughs. “Let’s go before you make me hard again.”

***********************************

“Are you doing that on purpose?” you ask, ripping your seatbelt off on the way home.

“Doin’ what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Hitting every damn pothole so my seatbelt squeezes my bladder!”

“Maybe,” he laughs, “But come on, baby, put your seatbelt back on. I’ll stop. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says seriously, reaching across your body to grab the belt, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Fine,” you answer, taking the belt from his hand and buckling yourself back in, all while giving Colson a warning eye.

He keeps his word but the ride seems to last forever, and you don’t know how much longer you can hold it. You spend the rest of the drive with your hands squeezed tightly between your shaking legs, and your head leaned back on the headrest with eyes clenched tight.

“Baby, we’re home,” Colson says, lightly grazing his hand over your lower abdomen, breaking you from your concentration. You moan at his touch, the light pressure causing you to feel like you’re about to piss or cum, you can’t distinguish which. Colson helps you out of the car and into the house.

“Baby please, I can’t hold it any longer,” you beg the second you’re through the front door.

“Fine,” Colson says, quickly pulling your black dress up and over your head, tossing it to the floor and throwing your lingerie clad body over his shoulder.

“Colson!” you shriek, the pressure from his shoulder against your bladder forcing a trickle to run down his chest and darken a large spot on his heathered grey shirt.

“Mmmm, baby,” Colson moans at the warm sensation. “Come on, we’re almost there, you can hold it. You’re doing so good,” he praises, as he carries you up the stairs. You’re not exactly sure what his plan is, but you assumed whatever he had planned for this would take place in the bathroom, so you’re more than surprised when he carries you to the bedroom and tosses you down on the sheets of your unmade bed.

“Colson, I told you I can’t hold it anymore,” you plead, laying on your back with your knees tightly pressed together.

“I know… go,” he smirks, palming himself through his jeans.

“Here?! b-but the bed…” you exclaim, sitting up suddenly, grabbing at the sheets on either side of you.

“Don’t worry about the bed baby, we got one of those mattress protectors when we bought the mattress and I’ll take care of the sheets myself,” he promises. “Now, come on baby, wet for me,” he begs, as he pushes your panties to the side, inserting two fingers.

“Colson, fuck,” you whimper as his fingers curls upwards inside of you, forcing small spurts of urine out.

“Come on, more baby, let it all go,” he says, pulling his fingers from you, licking the wetness that’s gathered on them as he pulls his length from his jeans with his free hand and begins pumping himself.

You close your eyes and relax your bladder expecting a large gush, but only an agonizingly slow stream starts to flow due to the pressure in your overfull bladder. Colson strokes himself, watching and praising you with half-lidded eyes as what’s left of the dry spots on your white panties turn wet and translucent, clinging to the contours of your folds.

After a few moments, the pressure lessens and the flow picks up into a gush, flowing through the white fabric of your panties in a stream, soaking the bed around you. The relief is almost orgasmic, causing you to moan and whimper as your bladder finishes emptying.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. So good for me baby,” Colson praises when you finish, his eyes glazed over by lust in a way you’ve never seen them before.

He turns you over onto your hands and knees, moaning as he runs his hands over the wet fabric, admiring how they cling to your backside before pushing them to the side and entering you quickly. Guttural moans of your name form in his throat as he harshly grips your hips, slamming into you at a relentless pace. The wetness of your panties transfers to the skin of his pelvis with every thrust. He takes notice, gliding his hand over the moisture on his skin.

“Oh, shit!” he cries out, driven insane with pleasure at the feeling and picking up the pace, fucking you harder than he ever has in the two years you’ve been together.

“Yeah, baby, just like that. Fuck me, fuck, me!” you chant, loving his new-found intensity. He continues thrusting at a fast pace, sounds of colliding wet skin echoing throughout the room.

“Oh God, Colson, fuck,” you cry out, gripping the sheets as orgasm nears.

Leaning over your back, Colson reaches around to your clit, rubbing fast-paced circles through your soaked panties. Kissing roughly along the width of your shoulders, he sinks his perfect teeth into the crook of your neck, hard enough to leave marks as he cums. You bounce back on his length as he rides out his orgasm with slow, hard thrusts, achieving your climax moments later which jolts through you like lightning.

“Oh fuck!” you scream as your arms weaken, your face sinking into the pillow.

Colson sings your praises of how amazing you did for him as he peppers your back with gentle kisses before pulling out. You roll to the dry side of the bed and Colson collapses on top of you, the both of you out of breath.

“Oh God, baby, thank you.” Colson expresses his gratitude as he kisses your neck. “You have no idea how much that got me going.”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.” you tease. “Let’s just say we will definitely be doing this again.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 5 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader (accidentally) blows off a text from Spencer for another guy. Later, Spencer takes her for a second date.   A/N: By the way, when you get to the adorable dance scene, the two songs that inspired me most were “Stardust” by Lyambiko and “We Might as Well Dance” by Madeleine Peyroux (Try not to read into the lyrics, I dare you). Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW 18+) Content Warning: Unprotected sex, dirty talk, jealousy, degradation, penetrative sex Word Count: 10k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

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I had never envisioned that my life would end up quite like this. That wasn't to say that it was disappointing or regrettable, although in that moment it felt like I had miscalculated a number of things. There was no other way to describe a Saturday night spent laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling of my friend's apartment as if I could manipulate myself into believing it was Spencer's.

It wasn't anyone's fault that it couldn't be his, instead. The stupid, gorgeous bastard wasn't ignoring me; he was just out of town for the weekend.

Truthfully, I should have been a little more considerate. It wasn't his fault he had to work. But I also couldn't help but be disappointed that he was always working. I hadn't seen him in almost two weeks and it was killing me. The last time I'd seen him was the morning after our first 'date,' and it was a brief enough interaction that I had already run out of ways to overthink it.

Spencer had gotten a restful night of sleep that night. Despite his little impromptu confession, he slept as though he'd never been more peaceful in his life. I had not. I'd had the pleasure of staying up for hours, playing his words through my head on loop and trying to figure out what the fuck had happened.

It didn't amount to anything though. The morning came, and he had long forgotten the words half mumbled through a sleepy daze. I'd told him that he had been mumbling in his sleep, and he asked me if he'd said anything embarrassing. I told him no. He hadn't pressed any further, simply stating that he must've been dreaming.

I almost thought it had been a challenge; a way to test if I'd gotten too close. But then I realized that I was probably just an idiot, and I was wanting it to mean more than it actually did.

So much for having run out of ways to overthink it.

Regardless, his aloofness had returned my heart to the broken, hurting mess it had been before he uttered the words that forever altered my universe.

That wasn't his fault, either. I was the one who'd set myself up for failure by ever imagining that we could be something more. I'd known he wasn't the most emotionally available suitor since the moment I met him. At least, not for me. I'd never actually seen him anyone else.

I didn't really want to think about that, though. I really didn't want to think about that.

"Hey, get your lazy ass up so I can sit down."

The order drew me from my reverie  — rather unpleasantly, might I add. Because when I turned to face my friend standing in front of me, I came face to face with his crotch.

"Dude, I don't want any of that in my face," I laughed to the unfortunately familiar sight. "Back up before I punch you in the dick."

Somewhat surprisingly, he obeyed. He took a step back and waited patiently for me to sit up and scoot over to give him room beside me on the couch. Completely unsuprisingly, however, he did not take advantage of any of the space available. He chose to sit close enough to touch me.

"Some women would do anything to have that privilege," he lied through his teeth.

"Who are these women? And how can I help them avoid this tragic fate?"

He smiled back, having already grown used to me rebuffing all of his advances years before. We had known each other for what felt like forever, but he still tried every chance he'd gotten. That moment was no exception, and it took him very little time to stretch his arm behind me on the couch. I leaned forward, glancing back at the arm that I would continue to avoid despite his best efforts.

I narrowed my eyes in a challenge when he did nothing to remedy the situation. He did not take the humble way out, so my only other option was to do the humbling for him.

"There are three whole couches in this room and you pick the seat directly next to me?"

"You're warm and it's 50 degrees in here," he joked while lifting his other hand to poke me on the nose.

I recoiled in disgust, grabbing the pillow beside me and hitting him in the face with it as hard as humanly possible.

"Then turn up the heat or grab a blanket, jackass," I grumbled, "I'm not giving you my precious body heat."

Once again, he conceded immediately. He held his hands in defeat and scooted just a few inches further away from me. I watched him for a second until he got far enough away, and then returned my attention to my phone, which I had been religiously checking for any news about the vastly more interesting man in my life.

"What are you looking at?"

"My friend. He's supposed to have landed a couple hours ago..."

Seeing that I had no new messages, though, I slumped over onto myself and rested my elbow on my knee. Continuing to ignore the boy trying to get my attention, I favored the one that was possibly ignoring me and endlessly scrolled through our previous conversations.

"Is that the cop? Your boyfriend?" he teased.

"He's not a cop," I corrected with a roll of the eyes.

Although not keen about the thought of the two of them meeting, I did wonder what kind of rant Spencer would've gone into to describe the different types of law enforcement agents. He would learn so much about government job descriptions. But that wasn't the part of the sentence that my friend had stressed, and I felt compelled to answer.

Didn't mean I had to be loud or excited about it, though.

"And he's not my boyfriend," I mumbled into my palm. I hated how pathetic it felt; how forlorn I could be over a man not giving me enough attention. He was still just a man.

A very cute, sweet, and drop-dead gorgeous one. But a man, nonetheless. Destined to be disappointing. During my daydreams and hopeful, lovesick thoughts, my friend had come to another, different conclusion about the type of man Spencer was.

"He carries a gun and can arrest people. He's a cop."

"Whatever," I said with a heavy sigh. Wasn't worth it to fight, so I admitted to my childish infatuation with an equally pitiful, "Yeah, it's Spencer. I was hoping he'd want to see me."

I turned the volume on my phone before finally setting it down, but continued to eye the screen until it went dark.

"It's not like you to chase after a dude," he so helpfully commented.

To his credit, he was right. It wasn't like me. But Spencer wasn't like other guys I'd met, and while it was true that Spencer was ten years older than me, I could tell that age wasn't the only thing setting him apart. It wasn't even necessarily something about him in particular, although he certainly was extraordinary.

It was more like... the way he looked at me. The way I never felt like anything even remotely close to lackluster. He looked at me like the stares shone through my eyes, and the blindness was worth witnessing the unfiltered eclipse.

"I'm not chasing him. We just like spending time with each other," I explained before sitting up straighter and placing a gentle hand to my chest in feigned pride. "I'm a very interesting person."

But then he responded with the last question I wanted to hear, or even think about potentially considering in that moment. The one that had been weighing on my mind no matter how hard I tried to suppress it.

"So... why isn't he your boyfriend, then?"

I hadn't wanted to hear it because I didn't have an answer. And no matter how hard I inspected my cuticles, they likewise produced no excuse worth saying.

The man to my right was twisting his body as he settled into the seat. He kept his chest open to me in some display of fragile masculinity that was very easy to ignore.

"Is he like, ashamed of you or something?" he suggested.

That was less easy to ignore.

"No..." I wanted it to sound more certain than it did. As it stood, it was downright pathetic. Especially compared to his much more confident reply of, "Then what's his excuse?"

I sighed again, that time pulling my legs up on the couch in my unending quest to find some semblance of comfort while being interrogated on the most irritating subject of all time.

"He doesn't need an excuse. We both agreed it's better to just be friends."

He moved closer to me again, and I didn't have the energy to tell him to stop. Not like he would have listened, anyway. Egotistical prick with absolutely nothing to substantiate his inflated sense of self.

"You deserve better than that, (y/n)."

While his words were soft in volume, everything else about him remained gruff and uninviting. Nothing at all like the way Spencer could shift and turn into something completely different. My friend could act like his feigned tenderness was meaningful, but I knew that he liked the thought of me more than who I actually was.

"Yeah, right. With who? You?" I droned, wishing that my words could actually be laced with venom. Maybe then he'd have abandoned this foolhardy quest to win my affections.

"I mean I'm not gonna turn you down if you're offering," he joked.

It was that lightness that was his main redeeming feature; the reason I could keep him around even when his fingers tapped against my opposite shoulder. I laughed at both the sensation and suggestion, refusing by lifting his arm off my shoulders before excusing myself from the couch altogether.

"Piss off. I'm running down to the basement. You want anything?"

"Just for you to come back quick," was his immediate, not-at-all charming reply.

"You're a fucking idiot," was mine.

It wasn't until I was already on my way back up after grabbing a blanket and a drink that I had actually managed to forget about my phone for at least a few minutes.

Then, the terror came. The worry that Spencer had called me, and I'd failed to answer. The possibility that he might've hit my number on a list and already moved on to the next. It had only been like five minutes but still. He talked so damn fast, he could've torn through 5 phone calls in that time.

A little faster, I made my way back to the living room, shouting from down the hall, "Hey, did I leave my phone up here?"

He didn't answer immediately, but then eventually slurred, "Uhh. Yep. Sure did."

When I rounded the corner, I found the gremlin going through my phone. As I already started to plan the new pass code now that he'd gone and figured it out, I ran over, half-tackling him on the couch as I screeched, "Give it back, you dick!"

It was no use. He held it just outside my reach, laughing at the way I scrambled over him to try and grab it.

"Not unless you promise not to check it until after the movie."

Sighing with resignation, I plopped down next to him, my arms crossed and eyes rolled as I convinced myself it was unlikely Spencer would text me within the next hour and a half if he hadn't already.

It was pretty late. Maybe he had already gone to bed and just forgotten to let me know he got home. Besides, I owed my friend as much for managing to get me to forget to check it for this long, no?

"Fine. I promise," I groaned.

I tried not to let the thought ruin my night. The next two hours were like they usually were. He kept trying to cuddle with me, and I kept pushing him away until I eventually didn't. I gave into the general familiarity with the guy I'd known for basically half of all my memories, stopping every few seconds to wonder if I should have felt guilty.

Then I felt guilty for having asked myself at all.

Once the credits began to roll, I held my hand out with zero hesitation. I (im)patiently for him to deposit my phone, which he did, to his credit. However, what I found struck me to my core. My hands immediately began to shake hard enough that the LED blurred in my vision.

"Uhhh, what the fuck is this?"

"What?"

I held up my phone, displaying a text message that had been sent from my phone a couple hours earlier. On the screen, clear as day, me and him from earlier in the day. A painfully domestic snapshot of the two of us running errands together.

The picture shown, though, was one that I swore I'd deleted from my phone. It was him with his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest while I laughed. It wasn't a bad picture, but the context was entirely absent. For example, the fact that I'd almost bruised his chest hitting him right after the photo was taken.

"Why did you send this picture?!" I yelled, desperately swiping at the time stamp. "Two hours ago?!"

He was much too quiet for what was happening. In my haste, I hadn't even notice the accompanying text above the picture, which read 'Sorry man, she's all mine tonight.' Spencer didn't reply.

"Why didn't you tell me that he texted me?!"

My frustration had peaked, and I stood up, pacing somewhat unproductively as I tried to collect my things.

"Because I knew you'd try to leave, and I haven't seen you in fucking ages," he whined, as if I was overreacting.

But I wasn't. This contrived bullshit was entirely his fault, and entirely fucking ridiculous.

"Are you fucking kidding me, dude?" I shouted, finally finding my bag and shoving my stuff inside of it angrily. I didn't even finish, with a few loose coins angrily clambering to the floor as the soundtrack to my farewell.

"Well, now I'm definitely leaving, so kiss my ass!"

Before I could actually leave, I held up my middle finger in the furthest thing from a joke.

"Wait, (y/n), it was a joke!" he called back but didn't try to follow me.

He'd known it wouldn't work. I was too mad.

"You're not fucking funny!"

I slammed the door to my car loud enough to wake the neighbors, but I couldn't care even a little bit. My hands were shaking so hard, that it was a struggle just to click my phone. But I did, fervently pressing Spencer's name until the stupid, traitorous phone could figure out what I wanted it to do.

It rang for 15 whole seconds before I grieved the reality that he wasn't going to pick up. I sighed, lowering my phone to hang up before he could ignore the call or I was given the choice to leave a voicemail. It had been my own fault, anyway.

But just before I hit the button, I heard a tired, crackly voice coming from the other side of the line.

"(Y/n)?"

Oh my god, he picked up.

Then, all at once, the words poured out of me.

"Spencer? I'm so sorry I didn't text you back! Please ignore my friend. He's a fucking idiot."

I could tell from the silence that Spencer was replaying them in his head to try to make sense of the frantic, slurred speech in his own sleepy state. Once he had gotten the gist of my panic, he started to laugh through a yawn.

"It's fine. You looked like you were having fun."

I couldn't tell if it was jealousy in his voice or something else. Either way, it felt terrible. My insecurities crept through my throat and came out with dramatic overcompensation.

"Yeah right. He held my phone hostage. I was waiting to hear from you and he got jealous or something."

There was an awkward silence on the other side of the phone, and so I continued with only a little tremor in my voice, "I'm glad to see that you got home alright."

Another few seconds of silence followed, but then it was the Spencer I was used to again.

"Yeah. It's less fun without you here, though."

That wasn't supposed to be as romantic as it seemed, I reminded myself. He was just flirting. Typical fuckboy nonsense, uttered to get a rise out of me one way or another. He didn't actually mean to imply that he'd already considered what it might be like for me to have joined him.

Right?

"I can still come if you want," I rushed, looking down at the clock in my car for the first time and grimacing at the revelation that the 'something else' in his tone had, in fact, been exhaustion.

"Although... I'm just now realizing its 2am and I definitely woke you up..."

"Typical," he joked, "you being out late, trying to make me jealous with age-appropriate boys."

My laugh bounced back at me from the walls of the car, and I covered my mouth once I remembered that I was still in a public area.

It was weird to me how whenever I talked to Spencer, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. I'd never felt that way with another person before. Those cheesy romcoms were all starting to make sense, and I hated how powerless that made me feel.

"I was not! Trust me, if I wanted to make you jealous, I could do much better," I humbly stated. It was only a little bit of a threat. "I just don't know why he did that. And of course, that picture, which I had deleted, by the way. He seriously had to get it from another folder. He just likes to torture me, I guess."

Spencer cleared his throat from the other side of the phone, readjusting before he clearly enunciated, "He likes you."

The statement wasn't shocking. Anyone who'd spent more than five minutes with the two of us knew that he probably liked me. I'd even considered exploring it at one point before smacking myself in the face and reminding myself of my standards.

But still, to have Spencer know that felt a little bit weird. After all, most 20-something boys would do anything to torture their friends. Even the girl ones. Especially the girl ones.

Then something else began to brew in my chest; a twisted sort of pleasure derived from the sharpness that had formed on Spencer's tongue. The jealousy creeping through the crackling static and wrapping its talons around my heart.

"... I don't know," I absently said.

He sensed the hesitancy in my voice, and asked back with a strange inflection, "Do you like him?"

I chewed on my bottom lip, closing my eyes as I dropped my head back against the headrest. I didn't want to answer that question honestly. I felt like nothing I said could be right. So, I just chose the closest thing to the truth.

"No, not really."

We were back in one of those awkward silences. The kind where we both wanted to say something, but nothing came out. I turned my car on when the stale, stagnant air became too suffocating. The sound alerted him to enough information for him to speak again.

"Are you heading home?"

I switched my phone to the other hand, trying to delay giving my answer by sounding busy. I didn't really have a reason, I just hadn't wanted to hang up yet.I wanted to stall him and selfishly keep him around just a little bit longer.

"Yeah, I guess."

Super smooth. I could still salvage it though.

"...Unless you've changed your mind and would like a personal space heater in bed with you."

Spencer's laughter would have been offensive if it wasn't so adorable.

"Yeah right, your feet are freezing. I don't even know how you still have toes."

That checked out, and also gave me an escape from the terrifying prospect of ending the call.

"I'll wear socks!" I offered with the utmost enthusiasm, "I actually own thigh highs, you know. If you're into that, Professor."

It had been a few weeks since our tryst, but I had hardly ever stopped thinking about it. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I'd traced the marks he'd left behind with an ungodly powerful nostalgia.

His laughter turned to frustrated groans as he mumbled, "Are you trying to torture me?"

Once our ruckus died back down, the silence was more serious than strange. I felt the urge to apologize again. I needed him to hear the sincerity behind what were so often empty words.

"I'm really sorry I missed your message, Spencer."

My voice was quiet, unsure, and scared. I didn't want to lose him, and I knew an extreme on either side of the emotional spectrum would let him slip away so easily.

It was exhausting being emotionally lukewarm, but some part of me wanted to believe that it would be worth it with him. That patience was all it would take to show him why he had nothing to be afraid of.

But where I showed mercy, he showed himself to lack it in any sense of the word.

"It's fine, (y/n). I'm not your boyfriend. If I really want the company, I can find it."

That wasn't why I was sorry, and what he'd said only made it worse. The ugly, resentful part of myself was convinced that was why he'd said it at all.

We both knew I didn't want him to find it with someone else. That was the entire reason I was sorry I missed it. If I missed his call, nothing was stopping him from making another one. I hadn't ever asked if there were other girls in his life, but I definitely didn't want to find out like that.

"I missed you the past couple weeks. I still do."

The genuineness in my voice scared me. I hated being vulnerable; especially when he was already so apprehensive about me. I wished I knew why he was. But at that moment, he was being his usual playful self, not willing to give me any hint of an answer in exchange for my candor.

No, just: "You're so good at whining."

I pouted like he would be able to see it.

"I just want some cuddles. Is that too much to ask?"

"Go ask your boyfriend, I'm sure he would be more than happy to oblige," he quipped.

"He's not as good at it as you are," I deflected, playing off the suddenly obvious jealousy in his tone. Before I could rub my quick wit in his face, however, Spencer raised a white flag that I'd never seen coming.

"Fine. I'll wait up."

That was when I realized that he had been more jealous than I'd thought, and I still had a startling amount of power to play with.

But I was still unable to comprehend it, and with a graceless gasp, I chirped, "Wait really? I can come over?"

An unsure laugh and an almost audible shrug later, he responded, "Sure, I figure it'll get me to bed faster somehow, as opposed to staying on this call."

I didn't hesitate to start to pull my car out of the spot, happily singing into the phone, "Okay! I'm on my way! Bye Spencer!"

"See you soon."

—————————————————

As I was old enough to be able to tell time, and aware enough to recognize that it was incredibly too late to be knocking on an apartment door, I tried to do so softly. I halfway succeeded, stifling the noise enough that he could still hear it, but his neighbors wouldn't. They would remain unaware of the girl bouncing on her toes outside of his door, squealing the second she heard shuffling feet on the other side.

Jesus Christ, I sound like a teenager, the more sensible side of me noted.

I might've felt shame, had he not opened the door in that very moment to reveal himself, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and pajamas on that were big enough they his half his hands.

He was... in a word, adorable.

"Hey sleepyhead," I cooed.

Spencer remained silent, but offered his arm in a halfhearted invitation for a hug. The blanket hung like a wing that I very much wanted to wrap myself in, and he was all too happy to allow. I actually giggled as I lunged towards him. I wrapped both arms around him and breathed in the clean scent of laundry detergent and soap.

"I'm sleepy, too," I said with a relieved sigh. The air was quickly replaced with that which smelled of him. So, too, the silence filled with a soft chuckle as he pulled me close to him and rested his chin on the top of my head.

Like a man from a fairy tale, he started to sway, slowly turning us around until we were headed in the right direction. The right one, of course being the one that would lead to us falling in bed together again.

"Alright, little girl, you can come crawl into bed with me tonight."

The words were like music to my ears, and I felt like I was floating. I was glowing, my skin flushed with warmth like a wood fire on a cold Winter night, and my eyes fell half lidded from some mixture of tired and pleased.

"Thank you, sir," I slurred through a smile. It grew wider as he took my hands, prying me away from him to lead me back to his room with more purpose.

Once we finally padded over, I dropped my overnight bag on the floor and began to strip off my shirt. He eyed the bag on the floor with a feeling I could almost place.

"Were you planning on staying with him?"

I felt a pain through my chest as he asked, because I knew the answer. I had been, but only because I'd done it so many times before. Our mutual friend wasn't in the house, so I knew I could use his bed. But saying I was planning on staying there alone sounded even more suspicious.

"Yeah. I've stayed there before. Always in a different room. We've been friends a long time."

There was something about the way he looked at me that made my stomach flip in a delicious way. A feeling that could only be described as dangerous and exhilarating. But then it was gone, replaced by the apathy he usually tried to display. I continued to strip, nonetheless, slowly peeling my leggings down and stepping out of them. I could feel his eyes on me.

I twisted by body in the hope that the movement would distract him from the conversation I hadn't really wanted to have. Jealousy, while a fun tool for the consenting, had a tendency to grow old quickly. It was a beast that did not like to be controlled; especially when taken by surprise.

But he had no reason to be jealous. I had all but begged him to come over, and I was currently naked in his bedroom. I didn't even look up at him before sliding under the covers. I was too scared for what I might find, and opted for enjoying the lingering body heat and smell of Spencer on the sheet, instead.

"I don't want to know how good you are when you're trying," he warned.

I looked up at him with guilty eyes, recognizing this was his gentle way of telling me he was jealous. But he'd said it himself... He wasn't my boyfriend.

"Come here," I pleaded while running my arms along the empty space where he belonged. "I'll show you why you shouldn't be jealous."

Spencer licked his lips as he looked at my exposed chest, pulling off his pajamas and slinking under the covers with me. Facing each other, my hands quickly found his erection, pumping it softly as he immediately rewarded me with a soft moan.

"I missed this," I whispered, closing the gap between our faces.

He responded in kind, taking his time to lay a lazy kiss against my mouth while he groaned, "I missed your hands. Among other parts."

As he spoke, his hand was traveling down my side to my center. My breathing picked up as he got closer, but he diverted, running his fingers up and down my arms that continued to work his length. The soft whimper that escaped my mouth entertained him, and he brought his hand back down.

"Say please, (y/n)."

I couldn't talk though. I was biting down on my lip to stop myself from telling him I fucking hated him for teasing me. With big puppy dog eyes, I watched him while I chewed on my bottom lip.

"Stop biting on that lip or I'll do it for you. I don't care how cute you are."

His hand now ghosted over exactly where I wanted them, and he used the very tip of his finger to collect the wetness forming there. My hands stopped as he made contact, my grip tightening for a second.

"Say please."

He wanted me to beg for him to touch me, but I didn't want his hand. It was almost 3 AM and I was exhausted and needed him. All of him, immediately. Badly enough that

"Fuck me, sir," the words spilled out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me."

A content humming came from him as he brought a hand to my hair. But the pleased sound lulled me into a false sense of security, which was shattered seconds later when he pulled my head back to look him in the eyes.

From there, I could see that look in his eyes again. That dark, possessive stare that made me long for the shadows to consume me if it meant more time with him.

"I p-promise," I stuttered as one of his fingers teased at my folds.

He raised his eyebrows as he waited for me to finish my thought.

With a cruel, sadistic smile, I continued, "I promise I won't think of anyone else."

That playful characteristic snark that has originally driven him to me had returned, and he pretended to be disappointed. He liked it, though. He wouldn't admit it, but the way I read the secret, hidden thoughts in his mind like he could read one of his book clearly drove him insane.

He guided me by his hold on my hair, lifting me off the pillow and not taking a minute to consider the repercussions before growling in my ear, "Turn around."

I obeyed, happily pressing up against his crotch as I settled into my position as his little spoon. I noticed a distinct lack of a pause this time, and gears began to click together as I felt him rub the bare head of his cock in the slickness pooling around my thighs.

"I have some questions for you, little girl."

He was pissed.

"When was the last time you got tested?"

I could hardly think straight as I realized where this was going. I tried to gather my thoughts and enough control to stutter back, "L-last week. I-I haven't... haven't slept with anyone else. Not since you."

My answer earned me a tender kiss on the neck, but it wasn't enough. I was trying to still my hips from knocking back against him. I couldn't completely stop myself, though, and I knew it made him feel even more confident about his decision.

"Good. Me neither," he replied.

I sighed with relief, happy to at least answer that question. I'd barely had any time to recover, though, before he continued, "Is there any way you could get pregnant right now?"

I shook my head no. He stopped my head with one hand on my chin from behind.

"Use your words."

"No!" I half shouted, realizing I just sounded like a brat. "No, no I can't. I'm on birth control. I won't get pregnant. Promise. You can..."

My breath matched pace with my heart, and I swore I was already lightheaded. Still, I forced the last few words through the heavy panting to earn my next, far more enticing prize. The magic words he had been waiting for:

"You can do whatever you want to me."

When he released my hair, my head fell forward just for a second, because soon my entire back arched in response to the way he began to push inside of me.

"Good," was all he'd said.

With that, he fully sheathed himself inside of me, and I cried out as I felt the way he stretched me. His hand swiftly covered my mouth before he began to pound into me from behind. One of my hands tried to keep me in place on the bed, while the other flew up to his hand over my mouth, holding it without trying to remove it.

I was calling his name underneath him, and he responded by making shorter, deeper thrusts.

Through it all, he chuckled in my ear, "It's always funny how fast you stop acting like a brat after I put it in you."

My eyes rolled back at his words, breath shuddering against his hand. He slid all the way out of me, and then applied enough force to push me up in the bed.

"Have you ever had someone finish inside you before?" he asked too sweetly for the provocative words. He moved his hand from my mouth and dragged it to move the hair that had fallen in front of my face.

I went to shake my head but remembered his instruction. Instead, I cried, "N-no."

"Good," he responded again, and my toes curled at the pride he felt in claiming this body as his own. He took my hand in his, pulling it down to feel the small bump forming in my abdomen each time he slammed into me. The next time it appeared, he halted, holding me in position against him. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that the next time anyone even thinks about touching you, all they'll taste on you is me."

He pulled out slowly before pounding into me again. With more violence in his motions and venom on his tongue, he spat, "and if you want them you can explain to them how you begged for me to come inside your tight little cunt."

I was in a state of shock, unable to comprehend how he was capable of making such cruel, licentious words. Each one made my body shake, and he kept himself inside me longer with each motion to extend the feeling. I ached at the way he filled me, desperately clinging to my own stomach where I could feel him.

"Good luck thinking about anyone else while I run down your thighs," he said before punctuating it with a firm, unforgiving, "you fucking bitch."

With that, he finally moved his hand, but it was not a merciful action. His fingers rubbed in the mess of our bodies, then dragged the wetness back to my clit, pressing harder than he ever had before. My head was still swimming from his language, and I thankfully didn't have to use my words. He was very capable of figuring out my body language himself.

I could feel the way the heat coiled in my stomach, the tension building as his mouth ran along my neck. Once he attached himself to one spot, driving into me at a brutal pace, I felt the energy shift and begin to blossom. Feeling the way my muscles quivered around him, he stopped his kisses, groaning loudly in my ear.

"Fuck, little girl," he continued to moan, his thrusts faltering as I tried to coax his orgasm out of him. It seemed to be what he was waiting for. Unable to contain the shrill cry that tore from my chest as his arousal filled me, I tried to pull away from him. But I couldn't, his hands holding me down and his hips rocking as deep as they could possibly move inside of me.

Exhausted, I tried to move away from him once his movements stilled. However, in another surprising move he slid out just to slam back into me again.

I whimpered from the overstimulation, doubling forward as he gave a few more deep, rough thrusts before pulling out entirely.

I had no idea how, but Spencer immediately got out of bed. He left me a sweaty, desperate mess on his bed. Thankfully, he tossed me a towel to help me clean up so I wouldn't have to sleep in the puddle dripping slowly down my legs. Shaky but satisfied, I somehow managed to make it to the bathroom and clean up.

When I returned, he was still awake. He was silent, sitting up in the bed with his eyes closed and contemplative. As I shut the door, he finally noticed my presence. He turned to look at me with an awkward smile until he pat my spot on the bed.

"Come here, little girl."

A little too excited, I shuffled over with a bounce in my step. Not satisfied with simply lying next to him, I curled into his side, wrapping my arm around his waist and nuzzling my face to his chest. From there, I listened to the way his heartbeat seemed to slow down with my touch. How his muscles relaxed under me, like he had been anxiously awaiting my return the same way I had been waiting to return to him.

"You're not really a bitch," he mumbled in a quiet, sleepy voice.

I couldn't help but laugh, tilting my head up to glance at him from my position on his chest.

"I mean, I am a little bit. But I know what you mean."

He wrapped a tight arm around me, using his hand to run softly through my hair. Leaning down, he gave the top of my head a small peck. I smiled against his skin, loving the way it felt to be surrounded by him. To be safe and cared for despite all else.

"Thank you for coming here with me tonight," he said in a low volume, like the words might spook me. "You're a very special girl. I hope you know that."

I didn't know how to respond, so I stayed frozen in place. I waited to hear the rest of what he wanted to say. People have always said we're most honest at night. I wanted it to be true, to give more meaning to loaded words.

"I'm really glad I met you," was what he said.

I closed my eyes, breathing in the words that felt like a balm on my aching soul. Unable to come up with a response that wasn't terrifying, though, I sat up and crawled to him. It was my turn to return a tender kiss, this time to his lips. As we pulled apart, he still looked at me like the answers to the universe were written on my skin.

I went to kiss him again, but he stopped me with a hand on my face.

"Don't..." he instructed, breaking my heart with just one command.

But I saw the fear reflected in our eyes, the kind that was deeper than a simple rejection. It was not the fear that we might not love one another. It was the fear that we very well might one day.

Spencer said none of that, though. He left me to forever wonder if it was just me who felt it. Instead, he surrendered with a simpler, safer explanation.

"If you kiss me like that again, I won't be able to stop myself."

I didn't ask what he was stopping himself from doing. No matter how badly I wanted to. Instead, I ran the back of my fingers against his cheek and whispered in the space between us, "Make now always the most precious time. Now will never come again."

My desired outcome came true, but not quite how I wanted. He didn't kiss me deep or passionately. He kissed me soft, like my lips were made of glass. He kissed me like he was protecting me from the terrors of his mind.

"Go to sleep, little girl," he instructed gently, coaxing me back to my position on his chest as we both sunk down to lay flat on the bed. "Picard can wait."

Laying there, next to what I was convinced was an actual human angel, I gave myself permission to drift off into sleep, hoping that my dreams could be half as good as reality.

That didn't happen.

I wasn't sure what time it was when I woke up, but it was still dark outside, so it couldn't have been too long after we'd fallen asleep. Spencer had turned away from me at some point. That wasn't strange or entirely surprising, but I noticed a strange sound from his side of the bed that made my hair stand on edge and my stomach churn.

It was... crying.

"Spencer?" I asked as quiet as I could. When he didn't respond, I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder in the hope that it would be an easier transition to the waking word.

But his body still jerked under my touch, and he sat up much too quickly before grabbing his face in both hands. It wasn't until then that he noticed, drawing his hands back slowly and inspecting the wetness he found on his fingertips.

"Hey, Spencer, are you okay?"

He didn't answer.

Suddenly extremely worried, I brought both of my hands to his arms and pulled him closer to me.

He still didn't answer.

"Were you having a nightmare?"

So many red flags were burning through my brain, and I didn't know what to do with the information in front of me. I just wanted to help him.

"I... I must have been. I'm sorry," he said when he finally spoke. He wiped at his tears like he could erase what I had already seen. Moving his hands away, careful to keep my touch as non-threatening as possible, I wiped his still falling tears away with my thumb.

"Why are you sorry, Spencer?"

"I... don't know."

It was an honest, but terrifying answer. A quickly completed checklist of a horror I was deeply familiar with. A reality that I wouldn't wish it on anyone in the world. Especially not him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he replied with a force so strong I thought the word was physically painful for him to say.

"Okay," I reassured him, "We don't have to."

He wasn't laying back down. He wasn't moving at all. It was like he was somewhere else entirely.

I moved closer to him, placing a hand on his back to gently rub circles and another on his lap. I offered the only thing I could think to help him in that moment.

"Do you want me to hold you?"

His eyes were fixated on my hand on his lap, his breathing slowly regulating the longer we sat like this.

Still, he halfway refused, "It's okay."

Raising my hand again, I ran it through his hair before guiding him to look at me with a tentative smile.

"You're not a burden, Spencer. I want to."

The tears were falling again, albeit slower and with his mouth curved ever so slightly. I tried to give him the calmest reassurance I could. A soft glow in my eyes that burned with the affection and comfort I desperately  wanted to provide.

"Come here, love," I said as I motioned to me.

Spencer dutifully followed. Soon his head was on my chest, my hand curling his hair around my fingers. He hugged my waist like I was the only thing keeping him here.

And I laid there with him, trying not to think about the way his tears wet my skin. Hoping that, for now, it would be enough for him to get some sleep.

A mop of curly brown hair was the first thing I saw when I woke up to the shine of the sun through the curtains. I smiled, but only until I remembered why he was on my chest.

It was obvious that he had barely slept, his muscles continuing to persistently twitch in their paranoid state. When I went to pet his head again, he stirred under me, pulling himself closer to me the same way he had before.

I didn't want to think about what had happened, but I knew I had to. Normal people don't wake up crying from a nightmare, and they certainly don't get painfully defensive when it happens.

I hadn't known practically anything about his life before. What he had been through, or whether he'd told anyone at all. I hadn't even known if he'd anyone to tell.

I was painfully reminded that he was not the superhero I made him out to be in my head. He was just a man, trying his hardest to do more good in the world than all the evil combined. That was an impossible task, though. He was doomed to fail.

His ears must have been burning, because the longer I thought about it, the more he woke up. Eventually he was entirely alert, sitting up and removing himself from the position we'd assumed for the past several hours.

I was surprised to remember what it felt like to be able to breathe without the weight of him on top of me. I was even more surprised to feel my chest felt heavier in his absence.

"Good morning," I mumbled, watching as he effortlessly got out of bed and began to get ready.

He seemed embarrassed, but he really shouldn't have been.

"Did you get any sleep?"I asked.

Spencer ran his hands through his hair before he turned back to me, a smile on his face like nothing was wrong.

"No," he sighed, "This brat woke me up at 2 AM and insisted I sleep with her."

It was nice to know he was still capable of joking but concerning to see that he was so good at compartmentalizing. I laughed along with him, nonetheless, sliding out of the bed to join him in getting dressed.

"What a bitch," I said with a smirk.

As hard as it was to pretend like the night before hadn't happened, I knew that he wasn't ready to talk about it. Heaven knew it would have been much worse to burn the bridge then. At least if I built the trust now, he might be willing to talk about it later.

"You know, I wasn't actually going to tell you to come over last night," Spencer announced.

The 360 of the conversation took me by surprise, and I blinked rapidly to try and reorient myself.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'm glad you did. But I was actually going to ask you if you're free tonight."

Spencer was nothing if not an emotional rollercoaster demanding passengers before 10AM. Ready to roll bright and fuckin' early.

"Yeah, I am. If you're still wondering," I answered in place of the multitude of questions I hadn't been ready to ask yet. Questions like, why was he wondering? Why did he need to schedule this? Was this another 'not-a-date' date?

"I wanted to take you somewhere," he mentioned casually, finally fully dressed while I still struggled to put on my clothes.

"Where?"

"It's a surprise," he said with raised eyebrows, like he was so very proud of himself.

I'd let him have that one, but only because he was so damn cute.

"Fine. That means I have to go home to get cleaned up first, then."

He seemed only a little disappointed by that, but overall acquiesced. I was a little sad about it, too, but remained confident in the old adage that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Besides, I wanted to look cute for my surprise.

We hadn't talked much before I left. I could tell he was still struggling with coming to terms with what he'd accidentally revealed to me in the middle of the night.

Honestly, it was a good thing I left. The desire to talk about it was overwhelming, and some things are better left unsaid...

For now, I promised myself. Just for now.

—————————————————

Spencer came to pick me up without a hitch. When I climbed into his car, I fully expected him to not tell me where we were going. I was right; he didn't. Of course, after about 30 minutes I recognized the route we were going. When I'd graciously pointed it out to him with increasingly less subtle suggestions, he still refused to give me a single hint.

That was, until we pulled into Observatory parking lot.

"I've never been here before!" I squeaked. My excitement had been obvious enough with the embarrassing crack, and Spencer's interest in my enthusiasm only grew.

He was looking at me with that soft, slightly saccharine smile.

"I figured. You aren't nerdy enough to go by yourself," he chuckled. The genuineness behind the sound made the already excited butterflies in my stomach begin to swarm.

"Hey, I can be cultured too, you know," I still corrected with the worst posh accent you've ever heard.

With a teasing smile on his face, the stupid man chose to look away rather than to admit his honest reaction to the statement.

Asshole, I thought, only to be proven wrong seconds later.  Forever a gentleman, Spencer joined me on my side of the car and took utmost care and attention to help me out from my seat.

It felt strange, to adorn his arm like something beautiful as we gazed at the stars together. I tried not to think about it, but wondered just how far he was willing to risk being seen with me in an undoubtedly romantic setting.

"Isn't this place usually closed to the public? I know they have limited general admission days," I asked, despite already knowing the answer. I just wanted to see if my hunch was correct.

"Yeah, I might have called in a favor or two."

Fuck, was my first thought. The next twelve thoughts, however, were all reiterations of 'Don't get your hopes up.'

My grip on his arm tightened, but he didn't seem to mind. I'd guessed that his nonchalance was entirely due to the private nature of the excursion, but I wasn't going to ask, and I certainly wouldn't complain. I was happy enough that he'd brought me, even if he wasn't ready to admit why. I could be patient. Sometimes.

Once inside, Spencer knew exactly where to go. I watched in awe at how many people knew who he was, and how much they looked up to him. While I had also always been impressed by him, it'd become easy to forget just how impressive he was when all the time we'd spent together was so far away from the rest of the world.

But Spencer's quiet humility certainly wasn't an issue that night. He spent nearly two hours walking me through what ended up being essentially all the stars in the sky. Much like the museum, it consisted of me adoring both the content of his words and the man himself.

He told me the story of the vain Queen Cassiopeia and her doting husband Cepheus, still holding each other in the stars millennia later. He spoke enthusiastically and with no sense of pacing. Half the time my eyes left the telescope, turning instead to marvel at the way he moved his hands and fidgeted with his hair as his voice tumbled out of him like it couldn't be contained.

It was just the two of us in the room when he finished, the dim lights and quiet ambiance catching up with me as I stared at him with all the reverence in the universe above us. He eventually finished his thoughts on Perseus and Andromeda, and I could tell by the look on his face that their love story meant something to him.

"You're quite the romantic, Dr. Reid."

He seemed surprised by the sentiment, like it was something he'd never heard before, and now he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. So, he simply laughed awkwardly and moved closer to peer into the telescope.

Whether it was because he felt a stronger connection to the extraterrestrial, or because he simply didn't want me to see that he was blushing, I didn't mind either way. A few less seconds under the scrutiny of his gaze would do my heart well.

"Not sure many people would use that word," he said under his breath when he worked up the courage to speak.

"Well, I did," I replied much more confidently.

He was smiling but trying to hide it the same as the pink hue to his cheeks.

"You said you were 14 when you went to college, right?" I said with narrow eyes, trying to read him from under the large machine.

"Yeah," he responded with an equal dose of caution, "... why?"

"Probably didn't go to prom then, huh?"

His answer was obvious from the way his entire body jumped. Knocking his head on the telescope as he rushed to give an answer, all his mouth would produced was a long, dumb, "Uhhh."

I knew he was about to try to run away. Before he could, I stopped him. With both hands on his arm, I kept him close. Eventually, his muscles gave in and accepted my embrace.

"Come on; dance with me," I begged.

He looked around the room for an excuse. There was no one there, just the two of us on arguably the most heartwarming date I've ever been on in my life.

"There's no music," he scrambled, eventually admitting, "aaand I can't dance."

Ignoring the pitter-pattering of a childish, lovesick heart, I laughed.

"I can teach you, Dr. Reid."

We both knew he wasn't getting out of this one. As I hopped down from the stool, I revealed my secret weapon from my pocket. I pulled up a playlist that I knew would suit him and the setting, and I held out my hand in an invitation that couldn't be refused.

"I have all the world of music at my fingertips. Now I just need you. "

Spencer groaned, but behind it all I saw an undeniable happiness. When he put his hand in mine, it too felt like warmth and safety. I took it with an even brighter grin, immediately bringing him closer to sway slowly to the music coming from my phone now seated on the stool.

The acoustics of the room let the music flow through, and within moments we had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. My cheek rested against his chest and I couldn't help but laugh.

"You lied to me, Dr. Reid. You definitely know how to dance."

"Okay, but does it really count if you've only ever done it with your mom?" he asked.

I threw my head back as I laughed, and he joined me. The two of us shamelessly filled the large room with a warmth not entirely unlike a far away star.

"Don't laugh at me!" he pouted, but I think he actually enjoyed the sound.

"I'm sorry," I whined, "you're just so fucking cute I don't know how to handle it."

Finally able to stifle the joyous sounds, I looked up at him with even more fascination than I'd showed the stars. I'm not sure what I had expected, but it wasn't what I'd found. Because Spencer's eyes were like mirrors facing the sun; reflecting the passions I spewed so carelessly right back at me.

"There are over a million words in the English language, and I still can't think of a single combination to explain how I feel about you."

Just like that, he'd stolen my breath and my sense. My smile fell into a look of smitten shock, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't convince my heart to fall back into its rhythm.

"I-I'm surprised you don't know the exact number," I said with an awkward chuckle.

"Well, some estimate that it's 1,025,109, but new words are created constantly, and it would depend on what actually counts as a new word. Not to mention the different dialects, words that have fallen out of common use, or words that may be used for entirely different purposes despite being the same."

I raised my eyebrows, not at all surprised that he had an answer, but excited to hear it, nonetheless.

"But it doesn't matter," he whispered, impervious to just how much he was breaking my heart. "Because no matter the number, I know it won't be enough."

My eyes lit up like the stars we had just spent hours staring at, and I wondered if he could tell. He must have. Because his hand on my hip pulled me closer, and our hands intertwined as our pace slowed to a stop. Our breath was unsteady as he came closer to me, pausing just before our lips touched.

We shared the oxygen between us, daring the other to do what we both know we shouldn't.

So I did, leaning up to kiss him as my hand slid up his arm and around his neck. His hesitation melted into the embrace, our tongues gently sharing space in an entirely new way.

I thought to the millions of stars in the sky, realizing that I shared Spencer's skepticism of an unknown number. Because no matter how many stars there were, I knew there would never be enough to outshine that moment between the two of us.

It was not a hurried or excited kiss. It was an amorous, amazing promise of a kiss. It was the kind of kiss that they wrote about in Corinthians. It was patient and kind. It was not proud nor self-seeking. Spencer's free hand held my face against his; the way they wrote that love always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres.

Did he feel the way he was kissing me? Because I had.

I felt it like a storm, the breeze blowing the air from my lungs and breaking down the walls around me. I held onto him and this moment, scared of what this meant for us. How could I pretend like we were just friends when I shook for days at his touch?

That was why I was the one to end the kiss, looking down away from him as I did. A soft, defeated chuckle as I took a deep breath. When our eyes met again, I lowered my arms to his chest, listening to the soft tunes still floating through the room.

"We should go home now," I whispered.

He was reading my reactions; I could feel it. And in doing so, he had lowered his own walls too far. I could see them behind his eyes.

My voice shook as I continued, "... before you do something else to try and make me fall in love with you."

Spencer didn't look scared as he replied with a cheeky little grin, "Why, is it working?"

I almost passed out at the way his eyes softened at my goofy smile.

"I'm kidding," he immediately followed.

I rolled my eyes at the absolute bullshit of a lie. I tried to play it off like it was nothing, but my heart felt like it would fall out of my chest. I tried not to think about it too hard as we made our way back to the car.

As he helped me in, I realized that we were really going to continue acting like none of that just happened. I tried to think of how that kiss we shared could be written off, but I couldn't. That was not the kind of kiss between friends. It was not the kind of kiss between strangers.

It was a kiss of the kind we both implicitly promised not to talk about.

Once the trip home had begun, I gathered the courage to tread lightly.

"So, what was the fantasy for tonight?" I innocently asked.

A little confused, he glanced over at me, careful not to take his eyes off the road.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've found each time we're together there's some sexual component," I chuckled. "This is pretty far from home, and you seemed very into it. I was just wondering what inspired this trip."

I was trying to avoid obviously ogling his reactions by shifting my eyes from him every few seconds. I had leaned against the door, surprised by just how tired I really was. He was doing that thing where he weighed his words again.

Eventually, he shrugged. That softness returning to his features from before, he began, "To be honest, (y/n)..."

Please, don't break my heart, I begged to that beautiful man.

Actually turning his head entirely to me, he spoke through a delicate smile, "I just wanted to look at the stars with you."

Goddammit.

The stars returned to my eyes, and I could see them reflected in his. My heart sped up to prepare for the panic as I realized that it was definitely too late for us. Because his efforts were working. They had been working all along, and I never tried to stop them.

As I drifted off to sleep in the comfortable silence of our company, I couldn't ignore the obvious:

I think I'm in love with Spencer Reid and I think he's starting to love me, too.

But we couldn't just love each other in isolation, and I wasn't sure he was ready to make that leap with me. In fact, I knew he wasn't. I still knew basically nothing about him, and he knew virtually nothing about me. How could it be then, that our souls felt so at home with each other?

Which would hurt more? Finding out he didn't love me, or that he did... and just wishes he didn't?

—————————————————

| Part 6 |

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Coffee and a Wedding (chapter 5)

Look, it’s the posting day where I don’t hurt everyone. A bit of news before we get to that, however. I just hit 400 followers and I adore you all. I can’t believe 400 of you want to follow me but know I am always thankful. 

~~~~~<3

Chapter 5

It was warm and the bed was so comfortable. Warmth surrounded me and it felt like I was sleeping on a cloud. I could stay this way forever. I wanted to stay this way forever. There was soft snoring behind me. It was a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. As soon as the day started, I’d had to put on the face and pretend like I didn’t mean everything I said.

Right now, it was safe. Clint was asleep next to me and the bed was warm and comfortable. A sigh slipped from between my lips as I rolled over to face my sleeping bed mate.  

Light brown hair that could almost be called a dark dirty blonde was a mess, sticking up every which way. Lips parted and stubble was heavy on his face. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and feel the scratch of it but instead, I only watched.  

As I watched, he shifted and scratched at his stomach through the blankets. He mumbled something, I couldn’t make it out and that was probably for the better anyway. I watched in subtle fascination as he tossed his arm up over his head only to have his hand smack hard against the ornate headboard.  

He grumbled again as he yanked his hand down. I needed to get up. It wouldn’t do to get caught watching him sleep like some sort of creeper. One sigh, than another and I rolled over, completely intent on getting up and starting the day.  

Clint however, though he was still snoring, seemed to have a different idea. With a grunt and another scratch, he rolled over. I tried to slip out of the bed but as I scooted, his leg reached around and hooked over my hip. I froze, hoping that he would- honestly, I don’t know what I was hoping for.  

His foot wiggled as he pushed it down, slipping his toes between my thighs. His arm joined the party, draping over me and slipping around my side. More mumbled words slipped from him as he tightened his grip and in the process, pulled me flush against him.

What was that sound?  

That was the sound of my heart stopping. We were tangled in blankets but I could feel every bit of him. I could feel the muscle in his arms flex as he tried to pull me even closer. I could feel his chest expand with each breath. I could feel his puffs of breath in my hair.

I could also feel his… oh my god, kill me now. Good morning, Clint Barton. Someone’s standing at attention first thing in the morning. At least I knew his… parts all appeared to work as well as I had hoped and daydreamed. I could feel so much of him. He was sizable and firm and throbbing. If I closed my eyes I could pretend that-

Oh my god. What the ever loving fuck was I thinking? He’s my boss. We’re not actually dating. He doesn’t like me like that. I shouldn’t be thinking about his-

Clint rolled his hips against me, a soft groan falling from his lips.  

Nope. Nope. I needed to get out of this bed right now. With a deep breath, I lifted his arm off of me. It took effort to wiggle my upper body out from under him while he, in his sleep, kept trying to capture me in his arms again.  

I thought I had more room. It’s a king sized bed for god’s sake! So, needless to say, it surprised me when I finally got out of reach of his arms I slipped off the edge of the bed. Head first, of course and I landed with a thump on my shoulder.  

“What happened?!” Clint was up in a instant. He was on his hands and knees, looking over the side of the bed at my crumpled form. For a moment I considered crawling under the bed and hiding because, really? Now he wakes up?!

“I fell.” What the hell else could I say? He had eyes. He could see me in a crumpled heap on the floor.  

“Get up here.” He reached down and offered me a hand. I spent  a few extra moments admiring how the soft light from the cream curtains in the window played over his muscles and framed his upper body before taking hold of his hand. “Off the floor with you.”

Again with the strength I kept marveling at, he pulled me up off the floor and onto the bed with him. It was a fascinating show, being able to watch how each muscle twitched and moved. The momentum of the pull brought me up far faster than I would have liked. I was too distracted watching him and trying to keep my drool within my mouth to pay attention to getting my feet under me.

Rather than standing when Clint pulled me up, I followed the momentum forward and right into my almost naked boss. I had to repeat that to myself, over and over again as my hand hit his firm chest and we fell back together in a heap. A laugh slipped out of him as his arm wrapped around my waist. He caught me and held me close for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand.  

And then, that hand slipped from my back. It was as if he realized that though we shared a bed last night, it wasn’t for any reason that mattered. Still, the way his hand dropped- it stung. He was probably reminding himself that I’m only his employee just like I was reminding myself he was only my boss.  

It still hurt though. I scrambled to get off of him without touching him. My leg brushed against a hardness in his boxers as I climbed off of him and it was so damn hard to pretend like I didn’t notice. He had to have felt it. Hell, he had to know I felt it.  

But we’re adults here, right? So we could address this and move on, like adults, right? It didn’t have to make things weird while we’re on this trip. It didn’t have to make things weird after this trip. I could act normal, even though I’ve felt my boss’ cock through his boxers, right?

Clint shifted in the bed, sitting up and clearing his throat. The sound of it drew my eyes back to him and inevitably toward the tent around his crotch. The slit in the fabric was straining and when he shifted…  

Yep, it was time to get up. I needed to get up and get dressed. Without a single word, I scrambled to the edge of the bed and launched myself to the dresser. Without care, I grabbed a handful of clothes and locked myself into the bathroom.  

With the door shut behind me, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. A moan wanted to slip from my throat. The sight of him had burned into my mind. I could still see it oh so clearly. I could see the head of his cock through the fabric. I could see the shape, the ridge of the head imprinted where he strained against the thin fabric. Through the slit in his boxers I could see the color, violently pink. He was engorged and begging for attention that I would love to give it if only we were not playing pretend.  

“He is my boss.” It was a whispered prayer as I started the shower.  

“You okay?” The voice of my personal demon came through the door.  

“Fine.”

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” There was a thump and it sounded a lot like Clint leaned against the door. “Look, if I did, I’m sorry. But if I don’t know about it, I can’t make it better. I can’t change it. If it’s from sharing the bed- I can sleep on the couch next time.”

“No!” Well way to play it cool. “I just- I really had to pee and figured I’d take a quick shower is all. I’m good. You’re good. We’re good. Right?”  

“I know it’s a bit weird.” He didn’t sound all that reassured. I’d never heard him sound quite like this. It was like a wall I didn’t know he had up had fallen down sometime in the middle of the night. “You’re the best employee I have. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you that, but you are. I know I can be a handful sometimes but I just… You had talked yourself into a corner and I wanted to help you out. I never thought about… If you even wanted my help. If you want me to go at any point, I will.”

This was beyond weird. It would save me untold amounts of embarrassment, having him leave. I could even blame Matt, say he offended Clint so much he felt the need to leave. I had an out. Clint had an out. But he was leaving the choice up to me. But it didn’t sound like he wanted to leave. It sounded like there was so much more meaning to his words and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand what that meaning was.  

Truth be told, I didn’t want him to leave. After telling him so, I took a shower. A long shower, as hot as I could stand it. I tried to burn away the impure thoughts and when that didn’t work, my hand snaked down between my legs. Whimpering moans slipped from my lips as I brought myself to a sweet orgasm with thoughts of Clint, naked and between my legs.  

Clint let out a low whistle when I finally emerged from the bathroom. When he motioned for me to do a spin, I indulged him. It was impossible to resist the urge to sway my hips as I spun.  

“Looking good.” The complement was slow and drawn out. “I expected you to look good since you took so long I had to go use the lobby bathroom to pee but still damn impressive.”

“Sorry!” After spending what I could admit was something resembling a year in the shower I couldn't be displeased with his reaction. I had taken my time doing my hair and makeup. I did feel a bit guilty about holding the bathroom hostage for so long enough that he had to resort to going to the lobby to use theirs. “Why didn’t you ask?”

“Figured you had something you were working through. It- I know you were going through something this morning and we don’t have to talk about it. I hope its not something you’ll hold against me. Going to the lobby for my morning piss so you can have the time you need to work through whatever and to come out looking this damn good- worth it.”  

“You should have knocked.” It was worth trying to convince him otherwise even if in truth, I did need that time. It helped me get my head on straight after seeing way more of my handsome ass boss than I was mentally or emotionally prepared for. Someday, he would find a girlfriend, a real girlfriend and he would fall in love with her. She would be damn lucky to have a man who would rather go to the lobby to pee than disturb her while she was doing her hair or makeup.

“And interfere with you getting ready- never!” With a roll of my eyes, I turned my back on Clint and his dramatic hand to his chest. “So, what’s the plan today?”  

“I’ve got the bachelorette party tonight.” Things felt almost normal as I made my way to the small dining table with a breakfast spread out. “Did you get us breakfast?”

Looks like a long shower, doing my makeup and hair did nothing to spruce up my brain. Way to step up and state the obvious.

“Yeah, figured after all that primping, you would be hungry.” It was hard not to look into his eyes as he sat down across from me. His foot brushed against my shin as he crossed his legs under the table and I tried to ignore it. “Excited for the party?”

“No, not really.” I admitted. “I’ve never been to one before and I’m sure it’s not like the movies.”

“Probably.” Clint shrugged as he shoveled some eggs into his mouth. “But it could be. I've been to some that were like the movies, some that were not. Bachelor parties, not bachelorette.”

“One could hope. At least the party would be entertaining.”  

“Don’t cheat on me with a male stripper, okay?”

“I promise not to cheat on my fake boss boyfriend.” I almost choked on my potatoes laughing.  

“Real boss, fake boyfriend!” Clint covered a waffle with too much syrup and refilled his coffee.  

“Your coffee is better than this.” I don’t know what possessed me to say it but it wasn’t a lie.  

“Careful.” Clint eyed me over his mug. “Talk like that and I could fall in love with you.”  

~~~~~<3

“Talk like that and I could fall in love with you.” His words ran through my mind on repeat as I glared at my second drink. This party wasn’t much of a party at all. Matt Matthews was a man from a large family of women, it turned out. And that family was likewise from a large amount of money.

They made up a large portion of the party and leaned toward a classier type of event. I sat here, sipping on a red wine that likely costs about as much as I make in a week. I had a paint brush in one hand while my thoughts were running wild. They tended to dart between that thing Clint had said- completely in jest, I’m sure- and how Sarah was not the type to call a ‘sip n’ paint’ class a ‘party’.

Soft voices whispered as the instructor described methods of blending colors for sunsets. Globs of paint moved across canvases and every so often there was a sniffle or cough. It was nice enough, I guess.

It took everything I had to not go for the third glass of wine as the class came to an end. I was already getting looks from the snobbier members of our party for finishing my second glass.

“That’s oddly dark, for a sunset.” Marci, Matt’s sister commented while standing next to me. The room was open and she didn't have to stand so close while looking disapprovingly at my painting. “You should have used more yellows and oranges.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“Why did you use so much purple, anyway?” Sarah asked. I assumed she was trying to come to my rescue but it was hard to be sure anymore.  

“Clint likes purple.” The words were out before I could stop them. Damn wine.  

“Ahh, so this is for your boyfriend.” Sarah teased, a warm smile on her face.  

“Matt told me about him. Said he’s your Sugar Daddy or something?”

“Excuse me?” Sarah and I gaped at her, our voices mingling into one in indigence.  

“Matt- he was telling us that you were seeing your boss for job security or his money or something?” Her voice was hesitant, as if she was suddenly unsure of the facts. “Matt said you had an arrangement with him?”

“Nope.” The word felt like ice as I forced it out. In no way ever did I expect that I was going to have to defend my fake relationship with my boss like this. “Clint would never- I would never agree to that. I’m with Clint because I love him. He’s with me because he loves me. I don’t get special treatment at work. I don’t get extra pay. I don’t get anything but Clint from the deal.”

“Oh- I’m sorry. Please excuse me, I misunderstood.” Marci retreated with her painting, leaving me fuming with Sarah at my side.  

“I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to Matt- I’m sure she just misunderstood what he said...”  

“Right.” The word is brittle in my mouth. “Why a ‘Sip n’ paint’ for the party? Really? It isn’t like you, it’s not what you talked about having as a kid and teen? I thought you wanted a real party?”

“Matt and I agreed that since his family was going to be a part of our parties that we would keep things classy. Limited drinks, classy activities.”

“No strippers.” I offered, cracking a smile regardless of how Marci’s words still stung.

“No strippers.” Sarah agreed. “For either of our parties. It was Matt’s idea and I think it’s a great way to start a marriage, not ogling to bodies of others.”  

~~~~~<3

“Welcome home babe!” Clint called as soon as I opened the door and it made my heart so warm. If only it wasn’t an act performed on the off chance I wasn’t alone.  

“It’s only me.”

“Welcome home just the same.” Clint stood from the desk where his laptop was set up and offered me a warm smile. It wasn’t fair that he was only my boss. “How was the party?” After a beat he added, “Is that a painting?”

“Yep.” I let the p pop, tossing the painting onto the couch. “The party was a ‘sip n’ paint’ party and the music was classical. The wine was expensive. Hope you had more fun than I did.”

“Matt called.” I grunted and Clint laughed. Should I even tell him about what Matt was saying about us? Did it matter? “Invited me to his bachelor party tomorrow night.”  

“Don’t get excited. They’re having classy events. No strippers, only light drinking. If you’re lucky you won’t have to paint.”

“Aww, I was looking forward to painting a night sky to match yours!” Clint picked the painting up and leaned it against the wall on top of the desk. “So I can see it while I work.”  

“Why? It’s shit.” Okay, I was more than a little bitter about how the night had gone. I had all these ideas of what the party should have been like and every single one of them had shattered. It wasn’t fair.

“I like it, though.” Pride was radiating off him and I rolled my eyes. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

I flopped onto my back on the bed with a huff. “I guess I’m just disappointed.”

Clint flopped next to me and I tried to ignore how his fingers brushed mine. “So, let’s go out. Your hair is still all done, your makeup is still flawless and you’re as beautiful as you were when you left for the party. Let’s go out to the club and have our own party.”

~~~~~<3

Taglist: @winterisakiller, @theheartofpenelope, @bradfordbantams, @ruebx, @hufflepuff25, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @tnystrk-exe

[gauntie-o-dimm]

Gaunter O’Dimm | Fate

Prompt: “I never want to see you again.” Word count: 2600+ Warnings: Smut, swearing, soul-selling

Fan-fucking-tastic, this entire event. After helping Geralt out with fighting the Toad (-Prince! Olgierd hadn't mentioned that shit!) we found ourselves trapped on a ship to what seemed like Ofir, at least, according to the man that was imprisoned with us. He could speak a small word of their language. His name was Phelippe Calagrande and made for some interesting company, telling stories about Oxenfurt, which did not really interest me to be honest, but it was something to listen to on the way.

The thing that bothered me most about this capture honestly, was that I had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sure, I helped out Geralt to attempt killing the toad, but the original plan had been that I'd been long gone before this so cursed prince came out to fight. Things turned out differently, causing me to be taken prisoner alongside the Witcher, on our way to our death. All could have been prevented, but something seemed to have meddled in our affairs... At least Shani had managed to get away. 'Is there someone else around here who can speak Common?' I asked as I became bored of Phelippe's endless rant about how he "knew the city better than his own breeches". Geralt was asleep, and I just wanted to talk to someone else. 'No offense, Mr Calagrande, but I want to hear another voice for once.' 'Like mine?' An all too familiar voice made the hairs of my neck stand on end. No, he couldn't be... I didn't dare turn my head to face him, but his looming presence told me he really was there. 'Did you miss me, (Y/n)?' 'I thought we agreed upon you not coming to look for me again.' I could simply feel him smirking at me. 'No, you said it, but I never agreed. And when there is no contract signed about that, then I do not have to keep track of any desire of yours.' Just now I had enough courage to look at him. He was smugly standing there, his features just lit up enough to be recognizable - and handsome - I shook my head to shake the thought away. 'Remember what I told you? I still have the contract for you.' Gaunter O'Dimm waved his hand, a piece of parchment appearing in his fingers alongside a quill. 'You know the deal. I will leave you alone for the rest of your life, but when you die, you and I will be ever reunited.' I stared at my bare feet, biting my lip. 'I know you simply can not stay away from me, (Y/n).' 'Excuse me?' I turned my head to him, sincerely offended. 'You're the one that keeps pursuing me !' He let out a low chuckle, a small shake of his head accompanying the sound. 'Then I just have to call you delusional, sweetheart.' I felt my heart drop in my chest. 'Why do we just keep stumbling into each other, then?' Rubbing my eyes, I let out a sigh. 'If I believed in it, I would say it is fate. But then, I am not someone for things like that.' 'You are just doing it on purpose, aren't you?' 'Hm?' 'You're so fucking omniscient, you knew where I am at all times, and whoops, it's fucking fate! You can't fool me, Gaunter.' He put up his hands in a defensive manner, stepping closer. 'You are acting as if I mean nothing to you.' 'You don't.' 'Not only delusional, but a liar too. And still, I choose to spend my valuable time with you.' 'For you, time is not valuable. You can stop it at any time.' He grinned. 'Well, you got me there, (Y/n).' I stood up to my feet when he suddenly appeared on my side of the cell. 'Can they hear you?' I gestured towards the two men next to me. Gaunter raised an eyebrow. 'I am not one for slip-ups, (Y/n).' He halted when he was about an inch away - and I did for some reason not back off. His breath on my face was just enthralling to me... I had to fight the urge to reach for him. And his familiar scent, it was enough to make my knees weak. 'I am omniscient after all, and I know the desires of your heart. You can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to me.' I thickly swallowed, looking down a bit. 'I know what me being so close is doing to you...' He gently put his hand on my cheek, stroking it, '...How much you want to give in.' Feeling embarrassed, I wanted to both turn away and stand in place. I did the latter, my gaze fluttering up to meet his. My lips slightly parted, wanting to say something, but it was as if he had put a spell on me. 'I can hear your heart beating.' he whispered, his hand sliding down towards my neck, collarbone, resting on my heart for a moment before he cupped my breast. 'Your blood pressure is rising. Hm, would you smell that... Aroused already, (Y/n)?' Just now I noticed what the pit of my stomach was doing. 'Gaunter, I...' His gaze was so intense and I wanted to- I grabbed his collar and kissed him.

He barely reacted and after a few seconds, I pulled back. 'You what?' he grinned. 'I want you.' 'I know.' He pressed his mouth to mine again, exploring it with his tongue like it had many times before. I let out a small hum, sounding desperate for him. He was right. He was so. fucking. right. I had craved him, longed for his touch on lonely nights, and part of me was so pissed at him for just looking on at those moments, watching me come undone on my own fingers while his name slipped past my lips instead of appearing like I always hoped-

-But I also wanted, no, wished that I was able to hate him, because I knew that he was far from human and far from good. In the end, I could get hurt, since why would he stay with me anyways? As soon as I was old and slipped into a slumber that would be forever, he would throw me with his other mortal toys in a pit full of eternal neglect. And yet here I was, breathing through him as if all I knew was how to kiss him. He would devour me one way or the other, but I would moan in pleasure on my way there.

'Why are you thinking so much?' he whispered against my lips, slipping a hand under the thin shirt I was wearing. I noticed how tightly I was pressed against him, how my fingers were gripping on his shirt like a final life line. 'I... I just...' 'Just stop stuttering and tell me what is wrong.' 'I don't know how to put it, okay? I am just afraid that... That once I am dead, that I will be a nobody to you.' Gaunter traced my mouth with his thumb, letting out a low hum. 'You really are a sweet woman, you know that?' 'Oh, why?' 'Because you think you are not the only one... But you are. You have always been.' 'No offense, Gaunter, but I don't believe that for one second.' 'Believe what you will. But you know that I can get you out of this ship.' 'Oh, I know.' I responded, 'Otherwise you wouldn't be here.'

He smirked, pressing his forehead to mine. 'You know me better than I thought. But first, I need to do something else.' He guided me backwards and I gasped as I felt the iron bars of the cell against my back. Gaunter kicked apart my legs and rubbed his thigh teasingly against my core. I deeply whimpered, much to his amusement. The Man Of Glass started kissing my neck, sucking and biting the (s/c) skin as he made quick work of getting my lower body naked. I rolled back my head as he slid his finger against my soaked folds, parting them as a moan came from my throat. He nibbled my collarbone, lowly humming as I bucked my hips against his hand. 'You needy thing.' he said, reaching for his pants to undo them. I wasn't surprised to find him completely limp - his body wouldn't be affected by pleasure until he wanted to. He raised an eyebrow at me and I immediately knew what to do. I sank to my knees, the wood painfully rubbing against my knees, but I didn't care. 'See it as a payment for helping you out.' he mused, lacing his fingers in my hair. 'Hands on your back.' I obeyed, folding them behind me as I pressed my nose against his crotch, nuzzling him. A satisfied sigh left his lips - a noise which I deemed the most delicious in the world - and I started working him with my mouth. I felt his length bob underneath my tongue as I let it lick across the base, slowly starting to become erect. I closed my eyes as he let himself slide into my mouth and I wrapped my lips around his cock, sucking him in whole. 'Fuck.' he hissed, pushing his pelvis in my face. I gagged, but resisted the urge to pull back. Looking up at him, I saw him in a state of pleasure and possessiveness. 'Yes, you naughty thing... Isn't this what you wanted?' I nodded and he saw it as his cue to start thrusting into my face at a rapid speed. He sucked in a breath as I started making noises that were too lewd to let any soul on this ship know of. After a good twenty seconds of deep-throating me, he pulled himself away from me, snot and tears running down my face as my tongue was soon back on his shaft. 'Fuck... You look so deliciously filthy right now...' I licked the strings of saliva off his throbbing member, waiting for my next order. Gaunter took my arm, hoisting me to my feet. He pressed me against the iron bars of the cell again, the feeling of the metal cold against my ass. He lifted my leg over his hip, pressing the tip of his cock against my entrance. As he entered me, the feeling of the barrier behind me painfully forced against my spine, I let out a loud whimper. The Merchant Of Mirrors just chuckled, watching me as I broke down into a mewling mess all in the same thrust. Perhaps I had needed it so bad that he could almost make me cum already - and I felt myself close around him instantly. He wasted no time, not that it mattered of course, and started fucking me. The rusty iron squeaked from the movement, my back arching into him as he moved his pelvis towards and away from me. It was soon that I could feel my juices run down my thighs and I moaned, one of my hands around his neck, the other fondling my clit. I would much rather see him fuck me in a proper bed or against a somewhat more comfortable wall, but the thought of what actually was going on around this ship made the feeling of him just fully taking me right now so much more exciting, even though we would never be caught.

'G-Gaunter, I...' 'Hm?' He increased his speed and smirked, pressing a teasing kiss to my jaw. 'What is it, darling?' How did he have this much self-control?! I let out a cry, pulling my leg closer around him. 'Can I cum?' 'Have I told you you can yet?' I lazily shook my head, my head rolled back and mouth slightly open to let out the most wanton of sobs. 'N-No...' 'Do you want it to be like in your own bed, when you are alone, huh? Do you want to make yourself cum? Come on, use those fingers of yours on that straining clit.' I increased the speed of the circles I was rubbing on it, my toes curling. I was too weak to stand, nearly falling onto the deck, but Gaunter caught me right in time. He let out a dark laugh, his pumping in me never tiring out. 'I am going to count to three, yes?' 'Ah, hurry... I-I won't last long!' 'Well, if you keep talking like that, it will only take longer. One...' 'Gaunter...' 'Two...' 'Fuck, just make me c-' 'Actually, I don't think that one counts, since you're blabbing through the moment. Let's start over again.' I could actually strangle him out of frustration right now. 'One.' I sobbed against him, wailing as he twitched inside of me. Oh, he was already having his high, and it drove me crazy. 'Two... Count with me, (Y/n). Say it.' 'T-T... Two-oh...' 'Hm, what comes after two again? Four?' He knew what he was doing and man, it made me mad. I already felt his seed leak out of my stillunsatisfied cunt. 'It's... It's three...' 'Well done, (Y/n). I hereby grant you the permission to--' I came around him, loudly moaning while holding onto his shirt for dear life, tears staining the orange fabric. I shuddered, losing all control over my own body. Gaunter just stood there, holding me in his arms. He was just so full of himself, and I of him... Quite literally, actually. As soon as my high was done, he set me on the ground, but my footing was still wobbly. Extremely calm and collected, he tucked himself back in his pants, smiling at me. 'Well, (Y/n), I must say that it was quite a fuck.' 'Will you help us out, now?' I said, still completely out of breath. I was surprised at how coarse my voice sounded. 'Of course, but first... I need something to remember you that there will be a payback for all this in the future. You have already fulfilled it, but Geralt hasn't. And trust me, I have a different plan for him.' He looked at the Witcher, who was sitting a little away, clearly sunken in thought at the moment that Gaunter had stopped the time. Without anything causing it, a nasty scar appeared on the side of the White Wolf's face. 'You can tell him that later. I want to meet him at the crossroads of Yantra at midnight.' I weakly nodded. 'Gaunter, I meant to ask you...' I whispered. 'Why me? Of all mortals, why have you chosen to interfere with me?' He smiled. 'Well, that is a secret you will never know.' I looked at him, pondering. What we were doing was just so wrong... The path I was choosing with him was so wrong. He knew everything about him, and after all of our rendez-vous, I had still no idea who he was. To him, I was one big, live contract. He was a dangerous man. Perhaps it was best to cut ties with this man before it all went wrong.

'I never want to see you again.' I tried to sound determined, but the exhaustion made my voice too shaky to be taken seriously. 'I don't even want you to find me again. It's wrong, you know.' Gaunter let out a chuckle, shaking his head. 'Ouch, after that great orgasm I just gave you?' He pretended to be hurt for a moment. 'Oh, (Y/n). You know that something will keep bringing us together. Whatever you say, you know that we will eventually meet again.' I rolled my eyes, reaching for my undergarments. His dark eyes lingered on my body, bottom lip slipping in between his teeth. 'I will see you later, dear.'

Of course. Of course he'd come back. He was a man of his word after all.

'Wait.' I could sense him smirking. He looked over his shoulder, a pompous grin on his features. 'Yes?' I was silent for a moment before biting my lip, daring to ask the question.

'That contract... Where do I sign?'

[awriterstransition]

Phobias (Major Fetish Diapers/Slight Watersports)

        If you find any of the sections of stories I write interesting, I’ve tagged every story with “Isen” so if you search for Isen’s name you get every part I wrote.  If you have any questions about my stories, or want to tell me anything, go ahead and send me a message.

 Phobias       

         When I woke up in my room everything felt different, the entire room was modern and very human like, with painted sky blue walls, white moldings, even the very bed I was sleeping on was soft and comfortable. Previously the bed used to be stiff and uneven. The room smelled fresh and clean, and I looked to the bedside table and saw a small electrical clock and a crystal lamp. I shifted to look around because I knew this was my room, it smelled like it, and it felt like it, even with the carpeted floor underneath my feet. I walked to my closet and opened it to reveal my clothing, though looking at them closely I could see the stitching was much tighter, and smoother.

         Then I looked down between my legs, and found a small cloth diaper between them, it was held in place with simple buttons, and I could tell it was wet since my crotch felt wet, but then I felt my neck because when I looked down I could feel a bit of resistance. Thankfully my room now had a mirror, and I could see one of Master Raven’s slave collars around my neck. The black choker, rimmed with silver and bearing his royal mark, in the center of gray glowing crystal. The royal Raven mark looked like it was branded on the crystal due to the thick and firm black lines, and the indentations on the surface. Though my mind shifted back down to my crotch where I felt the thick cloth padding between my legs. The front was a thick dark blue plastic coating, but the inside was soft, and of course it was damp because of my own mess. It had been years since I had worn cloth diapers, and it felt amazing. I just couldn’t help but rub the damp padding into my sheath. But in the corner of the mirror, reflected in the room behind me, I saw a folded stiff piece of paper over my lap top on the desk. Marked with Lynn’s name. Wondering what it was, I came to the letter and sat down in the firmly padded black rolling chair, god’s it felt nice. I had been sitting on wood and firm metal, the padding was wonderful. Even the padding in Matra wasn’t as good as the padding on the chair. I shifted towards the familiar wooden desk, and leaned on the surface as I picked up the letter and revealed what was inside.         -To my amazing friend          I couldn’t stay in Matra. I’m sorry I know you hate it when you get gifts like this and have to accept them, but when I saw you living in this place, I knew you needed some kind of escape. I know you’re supposed to live among the people of Matra, but you’re not a Mincridarn. You’re a cute sheep in wolf’s fur just trying to blend in. I know it’s so much compared to the wood walled prison you used to have, but please don’t be mad at me, it was fun recreating our room. The textures and colors; they were all hard to fabricate, but by the gods I’m amazing if I don’t say so myself. I haven’t used so much rune magic in years. I know you have questions so I thought up the questions you might ask.          One          Where did I go?          Well when the Mages Council found out I was Master Gageth’s replacement, so they called me forward to review my role as a member of the council. So I don’t know how long I’ll be gone… Sorry Isen.          Two          Why am I wearing a diaper?          Well that easy Isen, I’m glad you asked. Well I know how much you like wearing them so I made about twenty four, two of every basic color. I know that doesn’t make much sense by I threw in my personal favorite colors as well. I thought you might like feeling wet when you woke up, so I kind of made you pee yourself. I hope you don’t mind it’s nothing permanent I promise. I know you’d hunt my ass down if I did something like that.          Three          Why didn’t I wake up while you were doing all of this?          Isen, I’m a rune mage I could easily put you into a coma and make you sleep for twenty years. Trust me I was going to make this a surprise, so I wasn’t going to let you wake up before it was done.          Four          Why am I wearing this collar?          Isen the collar is specially made to filter out your gift from your magic, so when you express your magic in front of anyone they’ll never react in some kind of sexual or loving manner. I made the collar bearing Master Raven’s mark because, you are his slave in a manner of speaking. You will do as he says Isen, he’s not as bad as he seems, I’ve learned that myself. So the one thing about slave collars Isen, they are never made to come off until the contract is over, of course I didn’t make it time locked you can remove your collar at any time. But the point is, it’s illegal for anyone to touch a slave collar, no one will steal it and or try to take it off of you. OF course I made it so no one could do that anyways, but not the point. The collar will however make it harder to go out in public, but that’s why I made it silver. Silver represents a slave with more freedom then most, so it’s a way of saying your Master has given you permission to wander outside his estate, and do as you please. So you have all of the same freedoms as you once had but the collar just proves that Master Raven is your true master, and that he owns you and therefore it’s his duty to protect and train you.          Five          How long have I been asleep?          You’ve been asleep for a good half a day, by the time you wake up I’ll probably have been gone for a few hours.          Isen I know you don’t love me, but I’ll always love you, and I hope you still will let me be by your side until the end. But what hurts the most is that you never told me what happened to you, I would have stopped blackmailing you in a heartbeat if I had known. What I did was cruel and unforgivable, now that I know what happened to you. Next time when we meet can you promise never to hide anything from me again?          Regardless I hope we can see each other again soon, but that might not happen.          Forever loving you eternally          -Lynn Daren-

         I smiled when I finished the letter, Lynn was the romantic dork, and he loved being the chivalrous knight protecting the fair maiden from evil. So he loved leaving these small notes and letters whenever he could. Sometimes he’d leave small letters on the fridge back on earth when he saw that I was upset, or he was just trying to be romantic. It was one of the reasons I just thought Lynn was just an asshole in the end, not one of those rapists’ and murders; because he actually seemed to respect me as a person. I wasn’t an item to him.          I felt the necklace around the neck stroking the polished gray crystal around my neck, because I knew it was almost an extension of Lynn. I might wear the clothing he made and live in the room he furnished, but the collar was personal, it was his way of showing that he was respecting my wishes. Showing me that he was willing to help me never use my gift.          I soon heard a soft bell echo in my room and I looked towards the door, where bound to the handle was a brass bell tied to a string just a couple inches below the handle. Master Raven entered the room carrying a tray of food in his hand, wearing nothing but simple cotton underwear. When he entered he looked around the room rather amazed by the details, though he saw me standing up and his look of surprise vanished and his firm stern look retuned.           “What are you doing out of bed Kitten? You’re supposed to be resting.”           “Sorry Sir.” I admitted putting the letter in the top drawer of the desk.          He stood in front of me and put two fingers down the front of my diaper. “You really are a kitten aren’t you? Had to wet your diaper like a cub.” Master Raven simply protested as I grew warm at the parental gesture, and I watched as Master raven pulled his fingers out of my diaper and shoved the leather digits in my muzzle.           “Clean my fingers kitten.” I did as asked, and after a moment of simple sucking, he pulled his fingers out my muzzle and wiped the residue on my chest. Though I looked at his leather hands and wondered how he knew the difference in by padding.           “Sir how could you tell I was wet?”           “Special gloves from my father, they are family heirloom, their enchanted to be almost like a second skin. I can feel everything as if I was touching it normally, it’s a little muffled but I can feel when things are wet like blood and sharp like swords. Now Kitten let’s get one thing straight, you can wear your diapers all you want, but I will never once change them, do you understand me?” Master Raven asked firmly.           “Yes Master Raven.” With that confirmation the Cheetah sighed and put the tray in my hands.           “If you’re well enough to stand I guess you should get ready for work, you’re running behind but you should be fine. Eat, then clean your dishes, also take a bath unless you want to let people smell your piss stained fur. When you get back from work, we need to talk about what happened yesterday morning.”           “I’m guessing you don’t approve of what Lynn did?”           “Yes and No. My duty is to train you so you don’t rely on such strange things. Though these things do look interesting. He however forced my hand, I agreed to let him do this as long as he changed and modernized some aspects of my Brothel, and home as well. But that cub spent far too much time in here trying to impress you.”           “That’s Lynn alright, whenever he can use his magic to craft, he always tends to go overboard. Did you know in Ende when he was young he created a small city underneath his house with his shadow magic? He made statues and homes, even people. I’d love to see it, but he said he had to seal it away because confused spirits kept on getting lost down there. Regardless Master Raven, thank you sir for the food.” I said and lifted the tray of food slightly before setting it down on my desk.           “Just eat you meal Isen, you have plenty to do.” Master Raven commanded softly before tapping the collar I wore.           “You do look good in that.” I rolled my eyes, of course Master Raven said that, and I nodded with a small smile. Though the cheetah came closer, with how close he was I had to look up at him and he looked down at me with heavy handed glare, I quickly be scared that rolling my eyes had upset him and I was about to protest but his gaze kept me silent. I always had a hard time talking to people when they stared at me sternly.  Master Raven grabbed my arm, and then before I knew it he brought his hand down and smacked my ass, even with the padding I still felt it all.           “You were slouching again.” Master Raven explained and with that he let me go, and walked out of the door closing it behind him without another word. My heart was beating firmly because Master Raven may be a hard ass and abusive, but fuck he was hot.          I finished my meal, and washed the dishes but when I came to the kitchen I quickly took notice of the new fridge and oven plus cook top. Seeing these I quickly got happy and hugged them. “Stove cooking I’ve missed you so much.” I said happily thinking of human meals I could cook. I’d have to cook something when I got back for sure, something easy to test the heat and cooking times. Though thinking about the recipes in the bath, I quickly realized I knew nothing about how to cook Mincridarn meals, of course I had seen their ingredients before, but I had never used them.          I cleaned myself off, and used a small bit of soap to clean my fur and my scent before dressing up in a simple green silk sleeveless coat, with a tail that was split to make tail movements easier. I simply buttoned this in place with wooden pegs, and put on some brown pants. I left my feet bare just so I didn’t have to deal with the garter belt. I eventually left Master Raven’s home with laptop bag in hand. I met a single guard in front of the Spotted King’s Brothel and she took me to the embassy.          Class was amusing as I thought it was going to be, talking to the students about the movies, the action, the locations, and the items and weapons, weapons most of all. Mincridarins had a general fondness for weaponry, so they had plenty of questions. As homework I assigned them elementary school level worksheets, they were provided to me by the Ambassador. Apparently the Embassy had a copier, so I could select homework assignments from a work books and print them out. Though once I had given them the homework, I had to explain why the paper looked so clean and white.          Though when everyone had left, I had started working on a class room attendance spread sheet on excel as well as an assignment grading scale. I had never taught anyone, and I’m sure if I ever was supervised by a proper teacher they’d chew out every flaw I was making. But Matra had no choice, I was their only option, and they’d rather have me then no one at all. Thankfully the lectures weren’t so super intense, it was mainly responding to questions, but I knew that was going to have to change eventually. So I had to come up with some kind of plan to teach them properly. These first few classes would probably just be testing classes, just to get the students on board before I actually started to teach them.          Though when I was all done preparing for the next day, the guards took me back home and bid me a good night, mainly because it was already late in the afternoon, well after lunch. I was about to go upstairs and relax, by diapering up and getting on my computer to write, but that fantasy was halted by one of the bucks guarding the door. He came over to me and grabbed my shoulder, and spun me around so I had to look at him. It wasn’t Belvin, the scent was different.           “Master Raven wishes to speak with you, come with me.” The buck informed and I nodded in understanding, following the guard into the brothel, and around the main level to one of the tables in the back. I quickly took notice of Lynn’s added detail, because the walls were detailed with vines and pictures of landscapes, but not overdone just something have in the background. The furniture had a simplicity in their details, it was subtle difference, more depth to details and smoother curves. It was like shifting between qualities of videos on the computer, the room used to be on a 360p quality, but now it was more like it was 1080p quality.          Master Raven was sitting in a booth in the VIP area, and the guard stopped at the steps but I continued up and looked at Master Raven, he was wearing no clothes and smell of fresh sex, both male and female musk. Though when I came close enough he looked up at me with the cold stare on his muzzle. “Sit down.” The words were simple and firm, a command meant to be listened to but soft enough to be disregarded, but I sat down regardless.           “Isen I want to help you get over your fear of spiders.” Master Raven said and he lifted his hand when I tried to speak, he simply looked at me and warned me with a simple gesture with his finger. The simple gesture and his own silence left me quiet, and I listened afraid of what he was going to say.          “Isen, I can tell you’re scared, but it’s my duty as your master to train you, and so I will do everything I can to train you out of your fear. I’m asking for your permission, that is all, I promised to never abuse you so I won’t, and I won’t do anything unless agree. Plus there is no point in training someone who isn’t willing to be trained.” Master Raven said leaning back on the bench with his right arm hanging on the back of the bench, while his left rested on the table holding the whip in his hand.          His words left me dazed in deep thought, but when my silence seemed to be too long, Master Raven’s gaze bored into my head and his question back to my mind, and I fell silent truly nervous by what agreeing meant. My hands were lightly shaking at the idea, or maybe I was just shaking in general. “Do you have an answer?”          I looked up at Master Raven, expecting a bit more time to think about this, but the sudden need for an answer left me speechless my mind cut down the middle. I wanted to say No, but Master Raven was willing to help me overcome my fear of spiders. I hated it but I knew it was something I needed to do as well.           “You really are a kitten, just go. If you don’t want to do it, don’t waste my time.” Master Raven said after a moment waving me off with his left hand looking away from me.           “It’s not that Master Raven, I’m just scared.” My words brought up his gaze back to me again, the cold commanding gaze looking down at me. “I want to say yes but I’m scared about it being too much.”           “Kitten, this is a simple question do you want to get over your fears or do you want to let them control your life; Yes or No?” His simple words left me uneasy, but also hard to refuse.           “Yes Master Raven I don’t want to be afraid.” With that agreement he got up from his seat, and he came closer to me and took hold of my upper arm and lifted me off my seat, and close to his chest. It was almost like one of those scenes from an anime, most likely manga since very few animes seemed to be have a proper gay romance.           “You agree to do as I say when I say it?” My hands were tense and grasped at air and soon cleched in uneasiness, but I nodded in agreement.          “Yes sir.” I felt like I was signing my life away again.           “Come with me.” Master Raven commanded, and he let go of my hand and walked away with his whip in hand, but he soon let it fly striking the side of one of his slaves. A female who cried out in pain dropping the broom in her hands. “Do your job, next time I see you watching me instead of working I’ll see you before bed, do I make myself clear?!” He called out firmly, and the female quickly grabbed her broom of the ground and nodded.           “Yes sir.” She whimpered softly as she continued to work. Though with the abuse done Master Raven took me back upstairs but not into his personal home, but the VIP meeting area upstairs and into a room marked with a one. The room was clean except for a single chair and a large fruit spider locked in a cage. Seeing the spider I quickly started to try and pull away, and tried to break free of Master Raven’s hold. I cried softly I didn’t want to be near the spider, this was too much, but he lead me into the room and forced me into the chair in front of the spider, which the hissed at me and lunged at me as if trying to attack. Master Raven grabbed my arms and held me down.           “It’s locked up Isen it won’t hurt you, just breath. I’m right here, I won’t let it hurt you.” Master Raven said speaking directly in my ears, I heard his words but I just saw the spider in front of me, nearly three-fourths my own size, glaring at me and hissing , trying to crawl out of its cage. Its long legs restrained by cuffs, so they didn’t travel far beyond the bars of the cage. The cage rocked about but it was bolted to the floor.          I curled up into a ball in the chair my arms still behind my back, I couldn’t even use magic, so the room must have been warded. “Let me go… Stop!” I cried out in fear and Master Raven let me go, and I just curled up in a ball in the chair unable to move…. I think I had pissed myself because my pants felt wet. My entire body felt like it was covered in tiny spiders, shifting around underneath my fur.           “I then felt Master Raven pick me up, and carry me out of the room and sit me down on my bed, I was still crying and I was shaking. All my mind could think about was that large spider crawling over my body. I could feel its body on my back and its legs stabbing into my skin.           “Isen! Enough look at me!” Master Raven yelled in anger, and I looked up at him, Master’s aggressive voice snapping me into reality, and the spider shifted to the back of my mind. His features softened and he felt my face. “I’m sorry, I should have known that was too much. Just relax and breathe. I nodded and I did as he asked me to do, but my chest could only make shaky breaths.           “Isen just come with me and I want you to watch it from the door way.”           “No Master Please, not again.”           “Isen I promise you that spider will never get out of its cage, it’ll never hurt you.” Master Raven comforted lightly petting my head. “Isen I would never do anything that would put you in danger, Lynn would skin me alive.”          Master Raven’s comment made me smile, because that sounded like Lynn, ruthless in his protective nature. The simple joke had calmed me down slightly, and Master Raven stood me up from my bed, but my legs barely could support my weight, I had to lean into Master Raven’s warm chest just too barely stand.           “Do you want to try again? We can do it tomorrow morning before you go to work. I just want you to feel safe around the spider, it’ll never hurt you. I promise.” Master Raven assured rubbing my upper back.           “Can I hold you like this?”           “Sure kitten.” Master Raven agreed and with that agreement, he lead me back to the spider, and opened the door way but he didn’t step inside. The sight of the large spider struggling brought images of it breaking out, but then I felt Master Raven’s arm come around me. “How was your day work Isen?”          My fingers dug into Master Raven’s back and he shifted in pain, but I didn’t notice much. I was only staring at the spider, but master Raven pulled my muzzle up to face his. “Look up at me not the spider, just talk to me, I’m right here, it will never hurt you, I promise.”          My eyes couldn’t keep a steady gaze on Master’s muzzle, but eventually he blocked my sight, and then only feelings of the spider coming up behind me shifted my focus. But I looked up at Master... “I… Was…. It was… Fun.” I answered between shaky breaths, having a hard time concentrating on my words because the sounds of the spider, and the feelings of spiders coming around me distracted me from saying anything properly.           “You know Lynn showed me your story before he left.”           “That bitch did what!” I cried out in anger, my magic spiking alongside my anger, I glared at the Cheetah and he only smiled and flicked my nose.           “Do you want to break the crystal lights again?” Master Raven asked and I looked at him my magic quickly falling away, I just glared at the Master utterly unamused with what he said.           “That isn’t funny. That story is private, if I wanted people to read it I would have posted it on the internet.”           “Tell me about your book.” I just simply glared at Master Raven but he kept a steady gaze on me.        “Think about your book when you’re scared.” Master Raven continued before gesturing to the spider as he let his leather hand fall down from my vision, revealing the spider falling still and curled up against the edge of the cage terrified, silent.          I looked at the spider, and got a shiver up my spine, even if it was scared of me it was still hard to look at it, and watching it felt like something was crawling up my back. “I think were done for the day, but remember Isen the easiest way for you to relax is to think of something that occupies your thoughts. Think about your book, I’m sure when your not thinking of anything else your thinking about your book. So think about what you’re going to do when Abagail leaves snow peak.”          “How do you know those names?” I asked looking up at Master Raven, glaring down at him but he simply closed the door, and walked away from me saying nothing.           “You read my book?!” I protested chasing after the male but he continued to walk away in silence.           “You know it’s not that bad of a read. Pretty interesting.” Master Raven said and I looked at him bitterly, and he stopped at the door to his house he muzzle was emotionless and my glare did nothing to him.           “Isen you really should let people read it, do you know how many Mincridarins would love to read a book like that?”           “How did you get into my computer?” I demanded, though it was hard to get mad because I was mildly embarrassed about it, no one was supposed to read it.           “Didn’t Lynn enchant it? Do you really think he didn’t do things for his own benefit?”           “How much have you read?”          “Out of the three thousand pages? I’ve read about the first chapter. It’s good Isen.”           “It gets worse… I’m a terrible writer.” I admitted and Master Raven raised an eyebrow, but opened the door for his home.           “So you don’t mind if I read it?”           “It’s not like I can stop you.” I simply protested bitterly, mostly embarrassed as I walked away from Master Raven just wanting to get out of his line of sight. I never wanted anyone to read my book because it was so pathetic. It was supposed to be for my eyes only, it was supposed to something I did just for fun.           “Isen take a bath you smell like piss, and you’re dripping everywhere!” Master Raven called out before I went into my room, and looking down at my pants and then the floor, everything he said was true and I was leaving a small trail of piss on the floor where ever I walked. I looked back at Master Raven who had his simple firm look on his face, and his dominating stance, he didn’t need to say anything. I knew just by how he looked at me he told me to clean it up.  So I did after I stripped and put my pants in the hamper along with my underwear. I cleaned the floor wearing nothing on my tail end.