#herald sighting

[canisalbus]

While they're certainly no dogs, I saw this art and knew instantly who it looked like:

.

[mollysunder]

We're not talking about how Mel's going to Noxus in a far worse position than when she left. Elora revealed to Mel that Ambessa lost many of their family's holdings and assets, which was hinted to be the doing of the Black Rose. So her family as a whole have lost considerable standing since she's been gone. Where once Mel called herself "the poorest Medarda", that may no longer be true, but that's no consolation prize because Mel's own wealth has likely been diminished. Mel's greatest investment, hextech, is over. Mel's still a rich woman, but she's bleeding resources when she's about to enter a pool of sharks. It isn't great.

[e-kathryns-shadows]

Maybe Jayce is the fucking jinx actually!!!

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

"Don't you ever wonder what waits beyond the stars,"

"Where the sun we know is only a cinder in the sky?"

[meat-loving-meat]

Valdemaran mind magic makes directed energy weapons viable send tweet

[keirametzbrassknuckles]

It's alarming how easily i slip back into being a little eating disordered freak when I have nothing else to distract me

[unicronnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom]

"Hey Sari." Rodimus says, drinking a giant coke. "Need a break from heralding, huh?"

The violet-haired human hisses at him, yoinks his holoform's Switch, and goes to play it in her little closet.

He shrugs. Teenagers.

[miryum]

Don't Pity Me, My Princess (Azriel x Reader)

With Azriel as your personal knight, it's getting harder and harder for both of you to ignore your feelings.

Warnings: whole lotta angst. Talk of children and childbirth because royalty need heirs, you know? Az doesn’t have his shadows (even though it was so hard to write him without them) but is still called Shadowsinger. Azriel's mother was abused and there's like, one sentence about it

Word Count: 5k

Azriel had lived at the palace since he was a young boy. His mother had knocked on the servant’s quarters one dark night, begging for someone to take her son. She could handle an abusive husband, but she couldn’t bear her baby boy to suffer the same fate as she did. An old maid took pity on the new mother and agreed to house, clothe, and educate the child. Just before the new mother left, she kissed Azriel’s cheek and whispered his name. “You’ll do good things, my dear. I am so sorry.”

Coincidentally, a couple months later, the Queen gave birth to an infant girl. Princess Y/n was heralded with parades and celebrations, the new heir apparent. Meanwhile, in the servant’s quarters, a baby with a thick head of black hair and small little wings was just learning how to lift his head, staring up at the maids and butlers who saved his life.

Azriel grew up preparing for the life of a knight. He remembered growing up watching the knights train as he played with his own wooden sword. He remembered beating his still-developing wings to try and see over the wooden barrier of the jousting arena. He remembered when the knights first caught sight of him, trying to hack away at a dummy. They teased him at first, but then, just like his entire life, they took pity on him. The next week, Azriel began training as a squire.

It was a long time before he earned his leathers and then his siphons, but the Shadowsinger became a name that was both respected and feared throughout the kingdom. The King sent him on missions all over the continent and Azriel always returned successful. He would fight in the jousts and consistently win. He had maidens and ladies swooning over him, but they weren’t who he yearned for.

That’s why he volunteered, almost a bit too hastily, when the King asked for extra protection over his daughter, Princess Y/n. 

Azriel’s mind was filled with you, almost every moment of every day. It couldn’t be healthy, that he was aware of, but having grown up next to you, even if from the shadows, he had forged a deep connection to you.

When he was young, he had hardly noticed the little princess completing her studies. He couldn’t remember a time when he saw her in the halls or at the training ring — which is where he most frequented. But one day, a year or two after he had turned a teen, Azriel had fought in his first joust. In any joust, it was customary for a knight to be sponsored by a lady of the court. A lady usually had a favourite knight she regularly sponsored, so Azriel’s stomach was in a pit when it was time to trot by for potential sponsorship. Who would ever cheer for the newest, youngest knight? Azriel sure could beat a village boy in combat, but he was still the smallest and scrawniest of all of the palace’s knights — if you could even call him that. He could recall his anxiety as if it was yesterday. The way the crowd was cheering, the way his horse’s hooves kicked up dirt underneath, and the way he began to sweat as he tried to sit straight. 

And then, as he passed the royal box, you stood. Azriel almost kept his horse trotting by, sure it was a mistake, but when he saw you extract your blue handkerchief, he pulled on the reins. By some fortuity or fortune, your handkerchief was the same colour as his siphon. He had just earned his first one the week prior. Through his metal visor, he stared, wide-eyed, as you reached down and tucked your handkerchief into the folds of his armour. The rest of the court was watching too, but Azriel didn’t see them. He could only focus on the way his heart sped up when you whispered, “good luck.” 

You were an utter vision. Azriel was sure that you had chosen him to be your champion because of the closeness in your ages, but your support, even if it was just a piece of cloth you had embroidered, meant the world. He hadn’t won his first joust, or his second, but you kept sponsoring him. Azriel became accustomed to stopping under the royal box and bowing to you before heading to his starting position. Sometimes, especially if it was an important event, you would have a new handkerchief for him, or even some whispered encouragement, but Azriel didn’t need those things as long as he could keep making eye contact with you. And then he started winning. He could still hear your excited screams as his javelin hit his opponent straight on, which gained Azriel the championship. It wasn’t unusual for members of the court to get invested in the jousting, but others found it humorous that you were jumping from your seat to see better. However, you were only a teenager, and they knew you would soon be able to control your emotions. 

You had not-so-patiently waited for Azriel to bring his horse back around to the royal box after doing a lap of the stadium. People had thrown flowers and kisses and Azriel had shed his helmet, his cheeks hot from both the exertion and attention. When he saw you, he bowed deeply and handed a flower that someone had thrown to him. It was a small red rose. Your gloved fingers brushed his as you took the flower. His black hair hung over his face as he ducked his head. You made a mental note to have the barber stop by the barracks. “My Princess,” he muttered, head still bowed. “Thank you for choosing me as your champion, all those months ago.”

“Well, Sir Azriel, it certainly paid off, didn’t it?” you replied, smiling down at him. “It’s an honour to have you wear my colours.” You nodded to one of your handkerchiefs that was tucked in the chink of his armour, right above his breast. 

That was the past. And now, Azriel had the glorious opportunity to stand in front of the King and Queen, multiple siphons displayed proudly as he suggested his own name for the position of your bodyguard. Your childhood knight was retiring, something everyone thought was best as his wit, speed, and strength declined. That opened up the position. The King and Queen had called for the Shadowsinger’s opinion and he gave it, however biased he was with his feelings. “Your Majesties, I believe that the best thing for this kingdom and your daughter would be if I offered my services.” 

“And why is that, Shadowsinger? Wouldn’t you rather be sent on missions and participate in protecting our kingdom?”

“With all due respect, my King, the princess is the face of the kingdom,” Azriel said, a knee pressing against the floor of the throne room. It hurt, yes, but he could handle it if it meant sparing you the pain. “The people love her, but that also means many hate her. There are too many dangers, especially with other kingdoms threatening to encroach on our borders. I would be able to protect the princess, and you and the Queen, more efficiently if I was her personal guard.”

The two monarchs exchanged a look before the Queen nodded. “Very well, then. You’ll assume the position effective immediately. You shall accompany Princess Y/n to events and daily excursions. You’ll be briefed more extensively later this week.”

Azriel nodded and stood. He thanked the King and Queen and hurried out, trying to conceal his budding smile.

“Do you remember all the signals?” you called from your dressing room. 

Azriel was standing outside, content to just listen to your voice, but he replied, “yes, my princess.”

“And you’re wearing your dress uniform?”

“Yes, my princess.”

“Are all the other guards as well?”

“Yes, my princess.”

The door then opened and you peeked out. “And are you sick of me asking you senseless questions?” you asked, an apologetic smile on your lips.

“Never, my princess,” Azriel answered softly, eyes holding yours. “Are you almost ready?”

You ducked back into your dressing room, voice floating out again. “Almost. I believe we just need some more hairpins, yes?” Your maid responded in an affirmative and a couple minutes later, the door opened once more. There you stood in a cobalt gown that cascaded down to the floor, hair all done up, and jewellery proudly displayed on your knuckles and upon your collarbone. It didn’t escape Azriel that your dress was the same colour as his siphons.

Azriel had spent years serving under the King and Queen, honing his emotions to be the stoic force he needed to be. But, with you in front of him, he found his resolve cracking. His eyes widened and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“Do I look that horrible, sir?” you teased.

The guard immediately shook his head. “No, my princess. Quite the opposite, in fact. You…” his jaw tensed. “Those princes and dukes will be tripping over their feet.”

As much as Azriel would love to pretend that you were his and he would be the only one accompanying you tonight, he knew that this ball was for a very specific reason, and one he did not like. Your parents needed you wed, and it couldn’t be to him.

Nobility and court members alike knew to avoid Azriel when he was watching you. You were on your fifth dance with the fifth man and Azriel made sure to walk around the dance floor as you moved, always being as close as possible.

The moment Azriel had known he was to be your new personal knight, he had created a series of hand signals for you to use covertly. He was always on the lookout for your well-being and thankfully, there had only been a few times when you had needed to use the hand signals.

Months prior, your parents had held an anniversary ball for their marriage. You were a bit younger, more naive, and Azriel had only been your personal knight for just under a year. He had loved every moment of it, but he couldn’t help but feel a budding sense of anticipatory fear as he saw you twirl around the dance floor carelessly. You had one of your younger cousins in your arms and was spinning them around to their delight. While Azriel wanted to imagine a smaller child in the stead of your cousin, perhaps one with dark hair and your eyes and little wings that replicated his own, he was more focused on the older man that was watching you.

A measly Count from further South, the man looked twice your age and three times as intoxicated. He stayed on the outskirts of the celebration, but the Shadowsinger was not one to miss something.

When the Count approached you after your dance with your cousin, Azriel didn’t intervene. He couldn’t act only on a suspicion that the Count was malicious. And he wouldn’t act without your express approval.

But then he saw you twist the ring on your pointer finger.

When Azriel had first become your bodyguard, you were unsure if you could remember all the signals he had wanted you to memorise. A deeper fear, admittedly, was that he wouldn’t be watching and then unintentionally leave you to your own devices. Azriel was determined, however, to never waive your trust. He immediately came marching in, whispering something meaningless into your ear under the guise of matters only you, the princess, could attend to, and swept you away. A dirty look was thrown to the Count and Azriel made sure never to let you near him again. In fact, the Count was barred from any and all future events.

Meanwhile, you had finished your dance with the nameless suitor and Azriel already had an arm stretched out for you. You took it gratefully, needing a respite from all the men giving you unabashed stares. “I really do hate this,” you said to him as he guided you away. “I don’t see why they’re even letting me choose my husband if he will be from this very specific pool of men. At this point, it would be easier to simply betroth me to whomever they see fit.”

“You know my feelings on that, my princess,” Azriel replied. “And I’m sure your parents feel the same. They wish for you to have some sort of semblance of choice and happiness.” Even if it is not with me, the man who would worship you.

You sighed and looked down at your feet. “I know, good sir. But it’s tiring, as I’m sure you can realise. I’d much rather be in my room, engaging in the arts or taking a nap.”

Azriel couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh, one that drew your lips up into a brilliant smile. “Yes,” he agreed. “I’m sure you would.” He paused and then looked down at you. You looked so perfect on his arm and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep you there. “Here’s a proposition: if you survive the rest of this evening, I will dance with you.”

Your eyes immediately light up and Azriel swore the stars themselves burned brighter, pledging their allegiance to you. God, you were like ambrosia in his veins and how he wished for it to keep flowing. “Really?” you gasped. Azriel had been very conservative in his dances, even though, unbeknownst to you, he would dance on forever if you asked. But whenever he held you in his arms, it was too intoxicating. Too dangerous. He was still the Shadowsinger, even if he was sworn to protect you. The hands he held you with had been the notorious cause for so much pain. The thought of telling you about his past missions… It scared him more than imaginable. Those memories were ones best kept locked away within the shadows. He didn’t want you to think of the people he’s hurt – of the suffering he had caused – when you looked at him.

So all he did was nod back, smiling the soft look only you could bring out.

The night slowly wore on, the candles flickering over the walls, bidding the departing guests farewell. And still you stayed. Even as the moonlight rose above the windows and the maids and butlers slowly began cleaning up, you stayed. Only the musicians remained as Azriel led you to the middle of the floor. There was an unspoken trust between you and the musicians, knowing they wouldn’t tell your parents (who had already gone to bed) about your singular, last dance with your knight.

Easily, you placed your hand on his shoulder and Azriel’s palm flexed on the small of your back. The way your dress swished softly was a small distraction from the thoughts swirling in Azriel’s mind. He drew your joined hands closer to his chest as he thought back to how you danced with those other men. As if you knew he needed comfort, you stepped closer to Azriel, resting your head on his chest and eyes closing with exhaustion. His arms automatically wrapped around you, holding you tightly – almost protectively – as he let his cheek rest on your hair. His eyes softened and he murmured, “tired, my princess?” 

“Over a multitude of things,” you replied. 

Azriel tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek. “A multitude of things?”

“I almost wish I didn’t have to marry,” you admitted. “It’s not as easy as it seems in the stories. I need to take alliances into consideration and the happiness of my people. Along with wealth, resources, and good blood. My feelings hardly add into the equation, even though I want them too.” You then shook your head and changed the subject, a teasing smile on your lips. “Has anyone complimented your wings before?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“No,” he responded, a bit hoarsely. “No one has.”

You hummed and shook your head. “They should.” Your eyes trailed down to your intertwined hands before giving his palm a small squeeze. His burn scars marred his skin, contractures stretching over his hands and arms and small keloids by his wrists and creeping up to his elbows. Azriel winced slightly at the pressure of your hand on his scarred skin, memories of the pain flooding back. He tried to hide it, not wanting to ruin the moment, but a flicker of discomfort crossed his features. You instantly lifted your hand slightly to give him reprieve. Azriel wished for the contact back, but he knew he was the one to blame for the lack of touch. He was the one to make you flinch away.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, trying to bring the conversation back to his wings. "You’re the first.”

“I’m privileged then,” you murmured as he spun as the music lilted. “Though it truly is a pity.”

As you spun around, Azriel's wings extended instinctively, the iridescent membranes catching the moonlight. He held you close, ensuring your balance, and for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to revel in the beauty of his own wings. They were a part of him, and something he couldn’t imagine living without. He watched you longingly as you twirled in his arms. His eyes followed the movement of your gown as you twirl. When he had you pressed close to him once again, he replied quietly, “is it really a pity, my princess?”

“They should’ve been complimented — all of you should’ve been complimented a thousand times before now,” you corrected yourself quickly, thumb sweeping over his hand where yours was placed on top of his. “You don’t see how amazing you are because you hide behind your scars and memories. But you’re the best knight I’ve had.”

The words carved him open deeper than any blade, striking into the insecurities he held. The sincerity in your voice and the gentle touch of your thumb on his hand made something in his chest ache. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. The idea of all of him being complimented, rather than just specific parts or aspects, such as his fighting ability, was a foreign concept. He glanced down at you, eyes filled with sereness. “All of me?” he asked quietly, his voice rough.

You nodded with a caring, hopeful smile on your face. Maybe he would finally see how sensational he was.

Eventually, you came to a stop, standing in the middle of the room. The musicians finished their song and quietly packed up, leaving. Yet, you and Azriel were still in each other’s arms. Azriel continued to hold you, savoring the moment. He relished being able to hold you like this, without anyone else around. 

“Do you truly pity me?” he wondered.

You shook your head. “No,” you whispered out. “I would never be able to pity the man who devoted his life to me. I would never be able to pity the man who devotes himself to me. And I don’t think I have it in me to pity the man whom I truly care for.”

For a brief moment, he stood rigid, unused to such easy affection. Then, his wings unfurled slightly, wrapping around you both like a cocoon, shielding you from the world outside. “As I you, my princess,” he allowed himself to say, scared that if anything more were to come from his mouth, it would be a declaration of unwanted love.

“Will you ever call me anything else?” you couldn’t help but tease, looking up at him.

Azriel smiled back down at you, hazel eyes warm with love. “No, my princess.” The night was silent, but Azriel didn’t want to be. His lips parted to tell you something, but when your eyes darted down to them, he found himself asking, “have I yet praised your dress?”

“You have,” you laughed. “But it’s kind of you to do it again. I wanted to match you, you know?” You reached down and pulled your dress to the side to reveal a glittering sheen of fabric under the thick cobalt fabric.

Azriel’s eyes widened in appreciation. “Beautiful, princess,” he admired sincerely once again. “It’s an honour to have you wear my colours.” He repeated the words you had said to him all those years ago.

“I’ll always wear your colours,” you replied. “You’re my knight, after all. Ever since I was young.” Your hand slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck, thumb brushing against his skin and along the hair by the nape of his neck.

The Shadowsinger couldn’t contain his shiver. “Must you, my princess?” he breathed out, voice rough.

“Must I what?”

Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut and his head dipped down, nose brushing against your forehead. “Must you marry some duke or prince?”

It took you a while to respond and Azriel’s heart only beat faster each second that passed. “No,” you admitted quietly. “But my parents would like it. They won’t have me marry a commoner, but… I could very well marry a knight.”

“Princess…” Every part of his soul seems to be reaching out, grasping for you. His grip tightened slightly, holding you against him as if he feared you would be ripped. His hands trembled slightly as they remained on your waist. There was a vulnerability in his eyes – a desperate need for confirmation that the words you said were real. “Do not give me hope if you plan on tearing it away. It is too cruel of you.”

“So it’s true,” you muttered. “You have feelings for me?”

“I am not brave like you,” he instead said. “I’ve been your loyal knight for years, my princess. But I couldn’t bear to make myself a liability to your heart. I couldn’t do that to you. I care what others think of me, as much as I hate it. They cannot pity me, I cannot have it so.”

You shook your head sadly. “Sir, they do not feel sorry for you. No one does, especially not me. You’ve protected me for so long, you’ve more than earned your place here by my side. This isn’t some fanciful notion born of youthful indiscretion. You and I both know that. This is a mature, considered love that, hopefully, you feel too.” Your voice cracked as you continued and tears shone in your eyes. Oh, how Azriel hated to be the one to cause you such pain. “My love for you, as you are, flaws and all, is why I adore you so deeply.”

The man couldn’t bring himself to say anything. What did one say when the love of their life confessed feelings?

You couldn’t see the way he gazed down at you, almost lovingly. You stubbornly kept your cheek on his chest, trying to minimise the way your cheeks heated up. Why wasn’t he saying anything? But you were already so far in, so you couldn’t help but whisper, “you would do most anything for me, correct, good sir?”

“Within a heartbeat.”

“Do you mind if I demand something from you?” you asked.

Azriel chuckled softly at your question, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rested. He tilted his head curiously as his fingers traced small circles on your lower back. “What did you have in mind, my princess?” he asked, his voice low. “I'm curious now... What could possibly entice you enough to make a deal with the devil himself?” 

“Oh, the devil himself?” you repeated, shaking your head as you laughed softly. Somehow, he always managed to make you feel better, no matter the embarrassment that coursed through you. “Is that what you truly think of yourself?” You smiled up at him, not answering his question as you tried to find the courage to do so. Finally, you whispered out, “a kiss.”

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your whispered confession. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, hardly believing what he heard. He could feel his heart skip a beat, like a leaf in the wind. You looked so small in his strong arms, so hopeful. “Is that all you would ask for?” he finally managed to ask. His wings twitched a bit.

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah. That’s what I would demand.”

He stared down at you, taking in every detail of your face - the slight parting of your lips, the wide-eyed gaze, the flush creeping up your neck. He could feel the tension between you, thick and electric, like the air before a storm. His hand slid up your back, coming to rest at the nape of your neck. Gently, his fingers tangling in your hair. “Just a kiss,” he repeated, his voice a low rasp. “Nothing more?” 

“Ignorant knight,” you whispered out once, laughing.

“Is that still what you want?” he asked again desperately. His heart hammered in his chest so hard it made him dizzy. His eyes traced over your face over and over again. 

“Oh, Shadowsinger,” you muttered, shaking your head in amusement. You reached up and cupped his face in your palms. “Why won’t you kiss me?” You reached up on your tiptoes before slowly connecting your lips. 

Azriel had been struck by lightning. Every nerve ending in his body came alive, sending sparks of pleasure through him. He stood frozen for a heartbeat, scarcely able to believe what was happening. Then, with a low groan, he melted into the kiss. His hand came to cup your face tenderly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone as he deepened the kiss. He poured all his pent-up longing and affection into it, trying to convey without words just how much you mean to him.

From the sheer intensity of it, your knees weakened under you, but Azriel quickly wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you securely against his chest. You tilted your head and it felt like a dream. But he didn’t need to wake up because you were real. You were there, loving him fully and kissing him sweetly.

Azriel laid in bed, body and wings curled around the smaller form. His eyes blinked slowly, gazing down reverently at the infant. The baby had small wings that were almost exact to Azriel’s own. They had made the birth difficult and Azriel had been about ready to break down the door when he heard your screams. He hadn’t been allowed in the room, even though you had begged for him. Your cries had brought him to his knees and replaced the nightmares about his past missions with ones of your sobs.

Nevertheless, you had accomplished the horrible feat and Azriel had rushed into the room. He had first checked up on you, hands and anxieties flying about, kisses being placed on the skin that he could reach. Then he saw his little son, whom he now held in his arms. 

You had recuperated over the months, but it never got old to Azriel to hold his child. It never got old to hold you either. The moment he had gotten his child in his arms, so unbelievably worried about doing harm to him as he had done harm to so many others in his past, Azriel had asked for another. 

You had almost thrown him out of the room.

That first night, Azriel had held both you and child close to his bare chest, for the midwives had said that skin-to-skin contact was best. For the next few weeks, Azriel hardly put on a shirt (which you didn’t complain about), so it got normal to see the ex-knight pressing his son against his chest as he walked around the castle, as if giving the newborn a tour. The baby’s head fit perfectly in Azriel’s palm and more often than not, he would look up at his father with wide eyes that were so much like his mother’s, reaching out to grab at Azriel’s chin or wings.

The Shadowsinger had yet to be thrust into the life of King, for your parents hadn’t passed on, but for that he was grateful. It gave him more time to spend with his wife and child.

There was the creak of a floorboard and Azriel looked up to see you entering your shared bedroom. A smile instantly broke out on his face. “There’s my wife,” he murmured, reaching out with his hand that was adorned by the perfect ring. Its twin sat on your own finger. “My princess.” The words had such a sweeter connotation now.

“Husband,” you replied, having yet to get used to that word. You took his hand, and with a smile of your own, crawled into bed next to your son. “How are my two favorite Shadowsingers doing?”

“Oh, he shall not need that title,” Azriel hummed. “It’s much too dangerous for our little boy.”

“And what would you rather propose?”

Azriel gazed down at the small child, a hand ghosting over the boy’s thick patch of dark hair. “That’s for him to decide,” he finally said. “He will be able to make his own name and title and we will love him whichever path he chooses.”

After some blissful moments passed, you allowed some words to tumble from your mouth. “Are you happy, my love?”

“Of course.” He looked up at you, concerned eyes snapping away from the babe. “Why do you ask? Do you doubt my love for you?”

You shook your head, smiling. Your voice was quiet, worried about stepping over a line. But if almost two years of marriage had taught you anything about Azriel, it was that he never held secrets from you. “No, never. I just remember how, before we were wed, you were certain that everybody pitied you. I was wondering, do you still think they do?” 

“No,” your husband replied, eyes soft as he looked over at you. “Why would they? My entire world is here with me now. I hardly need anything else.”

Thank you so much for reading! This is my first ACOTAR fic so I hope I did Azriel justice. 😊 I wanna thank @pellucid-constellations for writing amazing Azriel fics and getting me into ACOTAR in the first place and just being amazing. (Also @illyrianbitch for posting today and giving me the excitement to post for Az) 😁

[storiesoflilies]

t.w: mentions of violence. if a gifted artist would like to bless us all with fanart inspired by this drabble, just know you will have saved my life.

thinking about knight!toji fushiguro who has gone completely rogue. he does not care for oaths or honor or justice, not anymore. he takes whatever he wants from whoever has it, with determined grit and merciless steel. who wears armor blacker than the night and rides atop a midnight stallion, its hooves striking the ground like thunder so you knew who was coming for you.

he was a god, a herald of death.

so they say.

but here you are, in his clutches atop his steed, and oh, how you believe everything you’ve ever heard about him.

“so pliant for me,” he hummed, his hand around your throat, bringing the back of your head to rest against his chest. “what a sweet little thing you are.”

you knew better than to try and fight him.

his lips ghosted over your neck, the tip of a fang lightly grazing your skin, and you felt his chest rumble. you shivered, even though his cloak was warm against your shoulders. it sounded like he was pleased, and his strong grip around you tightened. you couldn’t help but glance down at the ground, at the trampled bodies of the men who had tried to corner you, and toji tutted softly. his calloused fingers tilted your chin up, guiding your gaze away from the sight, arching your back against him. his green eyes peered into your very soul, and you had never felt more alive.

“sorry for all that,” he breathed out, chuckling, and you knew he wasn’t sorry at all. “i tend to get carried away.”

you don’t know why you said it, but you did. “it’s okay.”

toji barked out a laugh, burying his face into your neck, messy strands of his hair tickling you. his thighs pressed into yours, like he was trying to meld himself into you. his horse snorted loudly beneath you, impatient, its powerful muscles rippling.

“yes,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “i think i’ll just have to take you with me, keep you safe.”

and with that, toji sharply spurred his stallion onward, and the both of you disappeared into the shadows of the night.

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[comatosebunny09]

sparkler | sylus

— summary: quietly, he plucks your glass from betwixt your fingers to set it down. fixes you with a look that’s both fragile and intense, his breath fanning over your inflamed skin. taking up your hand, he gently splays your fingers over his chest where his heart beats a war cadence. his voice is barely above a whisper, lips quivering. “what will it take for me to convince you that this heart races solely for you?” — cw: written with female reader in mind, p-in-v, unprotected sex, fluffy romantic filth, praise, language, alcohol use, i'm half awake rn so forgive me if i miss any warnings, mdni — wc: ~3k — notes: inspired by @leighsartworks216 and the only for love c-drama. thank you so much for reading! — now playing: merry-go-round of life - morunas fade - the driver era

New Year’s is a time for celebration—an occasion to usher in fresh beginnings and bountiful blessings. To reflect on things past and to look forward to the future.

You didn’t want to spend such a significant time alone.

So, naturally, you link up with a friend to herald in the new year over hotpot and cold beers.

The pair of you meander down the moon-laden street toward your apartment, arms linked together. You’re giggling and gossiping, tucked cozy in your coats, shielded from the wintry chill. Bags of ingredients crinkle in your hands, waiting to be cooked and consumed.

You’re indebted to her for sparing some time for you.

Sure, you could’ve easily watched the fireworks from your balcony by yourself. But you’re tired of being alone. You decided to make a change, shedding your reclusive shell. Just because you couldn’t get everything you wanted didn’t mean you had to shut yourself out from living.

Caught up in your thoughts, you hardly notice your friend slowing to a stop. You glance at her, your cheeks aching with a smile.

“What’s up?” you chuckle, studying her stunned expression.

Her lips quiver, eyes widening a fraction. You nudge her with your elbow, trying to draw her out of whatever trance she’s fallen into.

“That your man?” she teases once she’s broken free, a smirk spreading across her face.

“What are you talking about?”

Following her line of sight, you finally understand what has her so shell-shocked.

In the middle of the street, against the sleek outline of a car, sits a familiar shock of white. He commands attention without trying to, a towering presence with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets and a smile rounding his lips. His scarlet gaze is tuned to you. Mirthful as he takes you in, frost adorning his black turtleneck.

You’re rooted to the spot. It is your friend’s turn to chuckle. She gently pats your arm, slipping out of your grasp.

“Looks like you don’t need me anymore.”

With that, she eases out of frame, bidding you goodnight, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face as she walks past the focal point of your evening.

Left to your own devices, you strangle the bags of food in your hands. Gaze falls to the ground, and you awkwardly shift your weight between your feet.

He’s the last person you expected to see tonight. Figured he had more important matters to attend to instead of showing up on your doorstep on New Year’s Eve.

You wanted to spend the night with him more than anything. Hoped you could. But you knew that was wishful thinking. You knew where you stood in his life, knew your place. It was no longer by his side. You more so played the role of a supporting character these days, quietly watching him from the sidelines.

However, you’re pleasantly surprised when the tips of his shoes cut into frame. You peer up at him, your heart racing, your mouth slightly ajar, plumes of frosted breath forming between you. He’s wordless as he brushes your fingers with his, plucking the convenience store bags from your hands.

He motions to the entrance of your complex with a nod. Starts towards the door, not waiting for your response. And you toddle after him once your legs remember the art of movement.

—

Two glasses clink together in a celebratory fashion.

The contents for your hotpot sit unopened on the counter, your beers dripping with condensation alongside them.

Swathed in the moonlight pouring in from your balcony doors and the idle flicker of scented candles littered throughout your living space, you share a bottle of wine with your company. The red and viscous fluid sloshes about in your glass, reminiscent of the idle stir of his irises as he studies you.

“Sorry if I was interrupting,” he says after taking a swig. The rumble of his voice vibrates in your gut. It’s a pleasant feeling, stirring alongside the alcohol warming your veins. “Had I known you made plans, I would’ve made myself scarce.”

You wave your hand dismissively, a soft chuckle in your throat as you prop your cheek against your palm. “She’ll be alright. Pretty sure she was just hanging out with me out of pity, anyway.”

He hums into his wine glass before taking another sip. You watch with bated breath as his Adam’s apple bobs, your throat dry. He mirrors you with an unguarded smile, elbow settled on your couch’s headrest, temple resting on his knuckles.

Silence stretches between you. Comfortable where it was once tense. He sets his glass on your coffee table. Pats your thigh, his palm warm and possessive, moving along your quad. 

“I honestly can’t think of a better way to spend my night than with you.” His confession catches you off guard. 

You swallow, struggling to find your voice. When it returns to you, you jest to dispel the solemn atmosphere, “Trouble in paradise?” 

It’s too easy to put up that playful front. To tuck the anxious little thing you truly are beneath years of built-up facades.

Sylus snorts, brow quirked, eyes shining with intrigue. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You snicker, your glass poised at your lips. “Well, I don’t know. I figured you would have rather spent your time with…someone else.” That someone else, of course, being one pretty and polite Miss Hunter.

Something in his gaze shifts as your voice peters. He has a faraway look in his eyes before he leans in, the couch cushions squeaking beneath his weight. 

Quietly, he plucks your glass from betwixt your fingers to set it down. Fixes you with a look that’s both fragile and intense, his breath fanning over your inflamed skin. Taking up your hand, he gently splays your fingers over his chest where his heart beats a war cadence.

His voice is husky, lips quivering. “What will it take for me to convince you that this heart races solely for you?”

Your mouth falls slightly open, a delightful thrill shooting through you. You can’t look away, drawn into the crimson whirlpool of his stare. Unconsciously, you lean closer, his lashes bowing as he glances at your lips. If he means what he says, then—

You’re not thinking when you whisper it. Entwined in the spell that’s befallen you, the warmth he exudes, the sincerity in his tone. 

“Kiss me.”

You’ve but a tender hand curving around the nape of your neck and fingers sneaking up into the delicate hairs that reside there as a warning before he acquiesces, luring you into a kiss that sets your chest aflame and siphons the air from your lungs. 

His lips are as soft as the petals they resemble, pressing against yours. Warm and insistent, invoking the barest sound from your throat. He draws back slightly, scrutinizing your features. Searching for any signs of discomfort, quietly offering you an out. But you don’t deter him, your fingers tugging at the fabric of his sweater around his chest. 

He chuckles something enamored. You kiss away his smirk, drunk off the feel of him. Off his taste, his scent. Wine tastes so much better when it comes from him. 

He cautiously pries your mouth open with his tongue, pouring the grittiest sound into you when you grant him the entry he so politely requests. 

The air shifts when his tongue finds yours. They ensnare themselves in a lazy, wet waltz. You pull him impossibly closer, the hard planes of his chest pressed against yours. Your arms intuitively twine around his neck. His palms splay on your hips, mooring you to the spot. 

You trade quieted groans, greedily sucking down air between the dancing of your mouths. It’s all so much, and yet not enough. You want to burrow under his skin. Take up residence in his heart, living there for all eternity. He breaks away from the tempting suction of your mouth with a soft, sticky click. Your head falls back, lids shuttered, when his lips brand the column of your throat.

His kisses are honey-slow. Warm like a mug of hot cocoa on frigid nights. He tugs the neckline of your shirt to the side, mouth sealing around the slope where shoulder meets neck. You exhale shakily, your fingers sifting through his hair. He grazes your flesh with his teeth, companying it with a suck that’s sure to leave pretty petals of green and blue blooming there come morning. 

His name falls from your lips whilst his hands make several expeditions up and down your sides. Map out the contours of your body, stroking over your full thighs. He kisses his way back up to your mouth. Amid the sticky grind of your lips, he rasps,

“You taste so sweet. I knew you would be.”

Your heart flutters. Something pinches in your gut at his praise. His thumbs ease over the outer swell of your breasts. He stokes the embers of desire within you to life, and he hasn’t even taken your clothes off.

Thumbs experimentally graze your pebbled nipples. You jolt, pleasant tingles cresting below the surface of your skin. He bites your lip. Tugs on it, pulling the neediest sound from the dredges of your chest. 

“May I?” he husks, artful fingers at the hem of your sweater. 

You nod drunkenly. Don’t think you could ever say no to him. Not when he’s looking at you like this. Touching you like this, his fingernails igniting a flurry of goosebumps across your skin as they slide over your stomach. He tears the offending garment from your shoulders. Your hair waterfalls around your neck, eyes shining with ardor, lips parted. 

He weighs your breasts in his palms. Kneads them, trapping your nipples beneath the pads of his thumbs. The feeling is amplified through the frailty of your bra. He takes his time, wordlessly appraising you with his hands. Watches you with keen interest, drunk off the moment as well.

“Can I taste you?” he breathes against your lips. How could you deny him when he’s been so considerate thus far? So gentle, handling you like glass? 

You nod, anticipation coagulating in your veins. Suck in a breath when the lace of your bra slides down your nipples. He bunches your bra beneath your bosom. And the crisp air that follows is short-lived, replaced by the hot suction of his mouth. 

His name flows like the sweetest supplication. You throw your head back, bowing into him, fingers tugging at tufts of white. He fastens a hand to the ridges of your spine, keeping you in place. Plucks your other nipple whilst he feasts, a clever tongue fluttering over your peak. He breaks away with a sticky pop to pay your other breast the same homage. You feel like you could die, subjected to his terribly distracting mouth like this. 

You burn hot. Need more. And you’re pulling at the bottom stitching of his turtleneck, trying to pry it off. He chuckles, hearty and full-blooded, leaning back to let you tear it from his shoulders. His mouth is back on your breasts, greedily licking your nipples into the hot cavity of his mouth.

You squirm. Pinch your thighs together to ward off the pleasant pulsing taking place between them. Sylus’ hands roost on your hips. He helps you stand, reluctantly releasing your tit from his mouth. Helps you shimmy out of your jeans, snickering when you stumble to get them off.

Drawing you into his lap by the crooks of your knees, he kisses you anew. Your hands frame his cheeks, your legs bracketing his hips. Your nipples deliciously slide against the rigid pane of his chest. Your cunt drools, slowly staining your panties with arousal, pressed up against the seam of his trousers.

With an arm fastened to your waist and a hand cupping the apple of your ass, he encourages you to grind against him. He guides you into a rhythm. A tortuously slow dance that has you panting, mind reeling, sparkles of white invading your sight. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, hips stuttering, panties sticking to your slit. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth hinged open, irises glazing over with lust. “Do you want me inside you?”

You nod eagerly, your hips moving of their own volition over his lap. You giggle when he suddenly hefts you into his arms one-handed, his effortless display of strength making you pine for him even more.

Your shadows dance along the walls of your hallway as he carries you to your bedroom. He tenderly deposits you onto your crisp comforter once inside, your panties and bra long discarded, and you watch, propped on your elbows, as he unfastens his belt and trousers. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth when you catch sight of him.

Even beneath the low light of your room, he is impressive. Hot and turgid, slapping intimidatingly against his abs. Your mouth waters as he nears you, to which he smirks, a laugh brewing in his chest. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” he teases, notching himself between your legs, his forearms locked in the bends of your knees, splitting you nice and open. “You might stroke my ego a little too well, staring like that.”

You can’t help it. You’ve fantasized about him before, his image hijacking your mind when the ache between your legs became unbearable. But your imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. To his body, burning hot beneath the glide of your fingers. To his voice, smooth as whiskey, as he groans from your attention. To the predatory smolder of his eyes, hair falling from its once perfect coiffure into his face. 

He rubs himself against your slit, coating his shaft in your nectar. You share an exhale, a gruff sound out, your thighs quaking. He feels so good when his cock head bumps your clit. Your eyes roll, toes curl. 

“So pretty,” he whispers, thumb finding your clit and massaging it with meticulous arcs. “So good for me. Can’t wait to be inside you.”

You clench around nothing, swiveling your hips to chase the feel of his girth gliding along your nether region. To guide it inside you, your entrance puckering and drooling for him. Solely for him. 

“Sylus, please. Fuck.”

“Do you want me to stop?” It seems he has no intention of doing so, his thumb still sifting through your sticky folds, hips still moving with delicious friction.

“N-no. Never. Fuck. Need you…inside.” 

He takes up your cue, a smile canting his lips. Taps his weighted cock against your sticky cunt a few times before nestling the head into your entrance. And, oh.

“Fuck,” he strains, arms bracketing either side of your head. He slowly eases home, your greedy cunt drawing him in deeper. You cross your ankles at the small of his back, and he props himself on his elbows, watching your face for any signs of discomfort.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full. Stuffed to the brim, his hips notched up against your inner thighs. He pants from the effort of easing into you, from the effort of not losing himself to the hot suction of your body.

You pull him down into a kiss. Undulate your hips, spurring him to move. He thrusts into you, shallow at first, giving you time to adjust to his girth. Your fingernails bite into his shoulder blades, your pants of discomfort traded for pathetic whimpers for more more more.

He fucks you into the bed thereafter, your headboard cracking against the wall, the air punched from your lungs with each stroke. He folds you in half, your knees pressing into your breasts. This angle forces him deeper, where he unravels the pleasant tangle of nerves budding inside you.

“Unngh, you feel so fucking good,” he lauds, his hips creating a rhythm of their own. “Sucking me in like that. So fucking filthy.”

You clench around him, a sparkling feeling erupting in your gut. Tears scorch the sides of your face. A wail swells in your chest. He angles his head down to kiss them away, to stifle those pretty noises you make for him, swallowing them whole. You’re close, so close, your orgasm sinking its claws into the lining of your stomach and oozing down.

“I’m gonna—gonna cum,” you manage, peering into his eyes, and the amount of affection that resides in his gaze shoves you closer toward that slurry slope.

“Yeah? Gonna cum?” he dotes, the lowered pitch of his voice overwhelming. He fucks you harder, the bed squealing, your eyes screwing shut.

Your orgasm creeps through you, spilling like hot liquid. You grit your teeth against the rush. Spasm, a long, broken moan dragged from your body. With a few more thrusts, he staggers into the void with you, spurred by your tongue curling around his name and your cunt surrounding him like a warm embrace. 

You both start when a series of explosions erupt outside your window. Peer outside, fireworks igniting across the night sky. He looks down at you. Chuckles, sweeping some errant hair from your face as you drift down. Your cheek gathered in his palm, he swoops in for a tender kiss, still nestled inside you, his thumb cruising over the apple of your cheek.

“Happy New Year,” he croons when he parts, eyes shining boyishly, smile affectionate.

You reach up to pull him down by his nape, his weight heavy yet reassuring atop you. “Happy New Year,” you return, equally as enamored. 

As he rests his cheek against yours, the pair of you housed in the safety of each other’s arms, watching the fireworks scatter against the inky sky, you thank whatever higher being had chosen to bless you this New Year’s night. 

[fatecantstopme]

All I Want Is You

Pairing: Tyler Owens x reader

Summary: Chasing tornadoes with the famous Tornado Wrangler is a dream come true, but falling in love with him wasn't exactly on your to-do list.

Warnings: Cursing, use of pet names, descriptions of tornadoes. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), praise kink, light choking, spanking.

You groaned softly at the sound of plastic snapping from behind you. "Boone..."

You turned to see the man in question giving you a very sheepish look. He held up the broken antenna with a wince. "Sorry, (Y/N/N)."

You exhaled heavily. "This is why we can't have nice things."

A small smile danced on your lips as you took the antenna from him. You examined the base and determined it just needed a new coupler. An easy fix.

"Dani!" you called out.

Dani popped her head out from behind the camper. "Yo!"

"Can you get me a new coupler for this antenna, please?" You held up the broken item so Dani could see which one you were referring to.

"Yeah, one sec!"

You glanced at Boone, who still had a sheepish expression on his face. You shook your head slightly as you took a step towards him. "Don't worry about it--I won't tell Tyler."

Boone smiled. "I'm way more afraid of you than I am of Tyler."

"As you should be," you teased. "Gimme a hand?"

He reached out to steady you as you pulled yourself up into the bed of the truck and climbed onto the roof. Dani came over moments later with the replacement coupler. You set to work on fixing it before Tyler came back and asked what was going on.

"Any particular reason you're on top of my truck, darlin'?"

You froze as Tyler's voice washed over you from behind. You turned to look at him, noting the amused smile on his face. "Just making a quick adjustment."

He raised his eyebrows, his disbelief evident in the action. "I made adjustments not 20 minutes ago."

"Well I'm just making sure."

"Uh-huh."

You'd finished attaching the antenna, but you made a show of checking all the other attachments on top of the truck. "Hmm...everything looks good to me."

Tyler chuckled and shook his head. "Then get down from there before you hurt yourself."

You slid down into the truck bed and jumped off the edge onto the hard ground. Tyler's hand shot out to make sure you didn't fall. You shot him a pointed glare that clearly said I don't need your help, thank you very much.

"So you gonna tell me who broke something?"

"Never."

He laughed lightly and followed you to the camper where the rest of the team had gathered.

"How's the radar looking, Dex?" Tyler asked.

"We've got a nice looking cell popping up to the East. It'll probably hit within the next hour."

"Excellent."

Everyone turned to look towards the Eastern sky. You could plainly see the dark clouds rolling across the horizon, heralding the oncoming storm.

"Thoughts, Lightning?" Tyler asked softly, the nickname rolling off his tongue with ease.

"Smells like a good one," you murmured.

The team had long ago learned to trust your instincts when it came to the weather...even if your methods weren't exactly orthodox. Tyler always said you could feel a storm in your bones, and he wasn't wrong. It was as if Mother Nature herself spoke to you.

"Who needs science when we have (Y/N)?" Boone said with a grin.

You turned and shot him a warm smile, but it quickly faded as you caught sight of four vehicles pulling into the parking lot. "Fuck," you muttered.

The rest of the team followed your gaze and muttered their own varying expletives.

"Can't we just have one storm where those assholes don't show up?" Lily grumbled.

"We'd never be so lucky," you said with a sigh.

The six of you watched as men in polo shirts piled out of the vehicles. Each and every one of them wore the logo of the business on their shirts, just as each of the vehicles did.

"Howdy, Storm PAR," Tyler said in a mocking tone.

Most of the other team ignored him, but one of the younger members gave him a friendly wave.

A soft chuckle left your lips, echoed by the other members of your team.

You opened your mouth to make a joke, but your jaw clamped shut as Scott Miller, one of the founders of Storm PAR, started walking your way.

You felt Tyler tense beside you, and you could see the others doing the same out of the corner of your eye.

"(Y/N). Owens." Scott gave the two of you appraising looks. "Surprised to see you're still chasing together."

You pushed down every annoyed response you wanted to shoot at him, instead opting for what you hoped came across as cool indifference. "Can't see why you'd be surprised."

Scott shrugged. "You and I both know you're too smart to run with this bunch of hillbillies."

"Hey!" Boone yelled. "Watch it."

Tyler stepped forward, his expression calm, but his stance was protective. "No need for the name calling, Scott. (Y/N) can chase with whomever she wants to, but you can't be mad when it's not you."

Scott's expression darkened. "She and I both know which one of us is actually successful." He started to walk away, pausing only to throw one more insult over his shoulder. "The YouTube channel sure is cute though."

Tyler bristled, but you grabbed his arm to keep him from saying anything further. "Let it go, Tyler. He's not worth it."

Tyler exhaled slowly and nodded, turning back to the rest of the team. Each of them shared the same angry expression, and it upset you that someone you used to work with dared to speak to them this way.

"I'm sorry, guys."

"Nothing to be sorry for, (Y/N)," Lily said with a smile.

"Lily's right, that dude's an ass," Boone commented.

"An ass I used to work with," you muttered.

"We all make mistakes," Dexter said with a small smile. "Besides, you're here now."

Tyler nudged you with his shoulder. "They're right darlin', and so were you. He's not worth it."

You smiled. "Alright, alright. 'Nuff of this sappy shit." Your voice was light and teasing, and it made the rest of the team smile. "We've got a storm to chase, don't we?"

"Yes ma'am," Boone said.

"You heard her. Let's get a move on," Tyler added.

**********

Thirty minutes later, you'd all piled into your respective vehicles and headed off to chase yet another storm. Radar still showed the cell to the East was looking promising and you'd confirmed it.

You could tell by Tyler's expression he was disappointed you'd chosen to ride with Lily instead of him. Boone had been more than happy to ride shotgun with Tyler and you'd muttered something about needing to drive so Lily could fly Cairo.

When you climbed into the driver's seat, Lily gave you a look. "What?"

"Why aren't you riding with Tyler?"

"Because you need a driver."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what, Boone forgot how to drive?"

You rolled your eyes. "Boone's operating a camera."

"Oh right, because we don't have cameras in every vehicle."

"Lil..."

"I know something's going on with you and Tyler. You've been acting weird all week."

You sighed. Lily was your best friend and your closest confidant. She knew very well how you felt about Tyler--and she knew exactly why you would never tell him. It wasn't that you thought he would be rude about it...you just didn't want to risk making things awkward between the two of you, or gods forbid, the rest of the team.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"I promise I won't make fun of you, but I can make no promises regarding my laughter."

Her candor made you chuckle. It was one of the many things you loved about her. "I had a dream earlier this week...and um...well, I can't get it out of my head. Every time I see him, it just invades my damn brain."

She smirked. "What kind of dream?"

You groaned. "You know exactly what kind of dream, Lily."

"Was it..." she grinned, "...the dirty kind?"

"Lily!"

She laughed loudly. "Oh there's nothing wrong with it! We've all had a dirty dream before."

"It's a little different when it's about someone you know and see every damn day."

"Instead of being awkward about it, you could just tell him...maybe he'll make your fantasies come true."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, like that's gonna happen. We both know Tyler isn't into me like that."

"I most certainly do not know that, and for the record, neither do you."

"He's not."

"How do you know if you never ask him?"

"He would have said something by now, Lily."

"Oh, you mean like you have?"

You shot her a glare, but before you could respond, the radio on your dash crackled to life, Tyler's voice on the other end letting you all know Boone was starting the stream. You flicked the camera on your dash on, effectively silencing any further personal conversation.

Tyler made his traditional intro, introducing every member of the team before launching into a description of today's storm.

"Lightning, can you swing up to my left and give me your thoughts?"

Lily'd already pulled her goggles down, eyes trained on whatever Cairo was seeing up in the air. You pulled around to the left of Tyler's truck, giving yourself a good view of the approaching storm.

You breathed deeply as you took in the beautiful cloud formations before you. No matter how many storms you chased...or how many tornadoes you experienced, the beauty and power never ceased to amaze you.

"She's looking beautiful, T. Plenty of shear and that cap is definitely gonna break. I'd say take a left in a half mile and drive straight at her."

"You heard the woman. Let's ride."

The clouds were rotating more rapidly as you approached the storm. You could feel the electricity in the air--the heaviness that accompanied any supercell storm.

"Come on, baby, show us what you got," you muttered.

The rest of your team smiled at your words as they crackled through the radio.

"We've got a funnel!" Lily called. Cairo zoomed overhead, able to see the beginning of the tornado before the rest of you.

You watched in rapt awe as the funnel grew. When the tornado finally touched down, you let out a whoop of excitement. The sound was echoed by the rest of the team.

"We've got ourselves a grade A tornado here folks," Tyler said. You could hear the joy in his voice and you smiled as you pictured his excited expression. "Lightning, Dex, you guys hang back while we get a little closer."

"Copy," you responded, Dex's affirmation coming moments later.

You slowed to a stop, eyes glued to the red truck as it sped closer to the tornado. This was always the moment that had your heart clenching in your chest...this was the moment it could all go wrong.

"What are our readings, Lil?" you asked.

"Wind speeds are currently 98 miles per hour and it looks like we've got an RFD forming."

Your breathing slowed as you stared at the tornado. You could see the rain curtain forming at the southeastern edge of the tornado, confirming Lily's RFD observation. Your earlier excitement turned to dread as an overwhelming sense of wrongness came over you.

"Monitor the wind speeds, Lily. I'm not liking this one."

"You got it."

"Tyler?" you hailed him directly.

"Yeah, Lightning?"

"You're heading straight toward an RFD. You need to pull back or you're not gonna be able to see the actual tornado."

"What's the current windspeed?" he asked.

"We're up to 110," Lily replied.

"Tyler--pull back. Now," you urged. 110 mph was the top windspeed for an EF1...and that truck wasn't rated for an EF2.

"We've got hail!" Boone yelled excitedly.

"Baseballs!" Tyler hollered.

"Tyler!" you called.

"We're alright, Lightning. Don't worry," he responded.

You exhaled heavily and closed your eyes for a moment. "Windspeed, Lil?"

"120."

"Shit. Tyler it's an EF2 and you're driving right into the damn rain wall. Back off."

"Alright, we'll go around the edge--see if we can't skirt around the RFD."

You didn't like it...you never liked when visibility was so compromised. Especially when you weren't actively in the storm. You'd lost visual of the truck, but you could still clearly see the tornado and the rain wall that formed on the Southeastern edge. Your skills were of more use when you were actually in the storm...not watching from a distance.

"(Y/N), we've got a second funnel forming," Dexter called.

"Where?"

"I can see the hook on the radar. Off to the west."

"Lily, can you get me eyes?" you asked.

"On it."

While you couldn't see Cairo, you knew the drone was flying overhead, racing towards the western edge of the storm.

"Wind shear is still high," Dani commented.

You could hear the slight worry in her voice, echoing your own concerns.

"Shit," Lily muttered. "We've got an updraft and she's rotating."

"Tyler, get out of there now," you ordered. "Second tornado just touched down to the west."

"We can't see it," Tyler called out.

"Windspeed on the first tornado?" you asked.

It was Dexter who responded. "136!"

"Fuck!" That was the threshold for an EF3.

"Windspeed on the smaller twister is already 105," Lily yelled.

"Tyler!"

"I can't see the other tornado!" he yelled.

"Lily!"

"I'm trying..." she said desperately. You watched in dismay as the two tornados spun in the distance. Tyler and Boone were somewhere in the middle of it and Lily was trying to find the truck with Cairo.

"Got 'em!"

"Guide me!" Tyler yelled.

"Go in reverse," Lily insisted. "If you keep going straight, you're gonna hit the second tornado."

You could hear Tyler's cursing over the radio, followed by the revving of the truck's engine.

"Keep going!" Lily commanded.

Your anxiety was through the roof and you still couldn't see the truck you were so desperately searching for.

"Shit!!!" Lily yelled. "I lost Cairo!"

It was your turn to take over...but all you had was instinct. "Tyler! What can you see?"

"I can still only see the EF3!"

"To your right?"

"Yes!"

You gauged his likely location and sent out a silent prayer that you were right. "Go left. As fast as you can."

Tyler didn't even ask if you were sure. He trusted you with his life...and with Boone's.

"You might be sending him right into the EF2," Lily said softly.

"I know."

You could feel her concerned gaze on you, but you didn't dare take your eyes off the storms raging in front of you.

"We've got a wind shift," Dexter called. "The storm is moving Northeast."

"Tyler?"

"I heard. We're headed in the opposite direction."

You held your breath, waiting to see the red truck finally come into view.

"I see them!" Lily shouted.

You followed her line of sight and let out a long exhale. The sight of that damn truck was easily the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

You waited until the truck finally pulled to a stop just ahead of your truck before getting out and racing towards it.

Tyler jumped out and didn't hesitate to catch you as you jumped into his arms. He held you tightly and you finally felt the tension leave your body. Neither of you said a word as he sat you down, the emotion on both of your faces was enough to convey what you needed to.

The rest of the team had run up to the truck and everyone embraced in relief. Tyler turned back to the camera, letting everyone know the team was safe. He reminded the viewers not to try anything like this without proper training and equipment, before signing off the stream.

"I need a drink," he muttered.

"I think we all could use one," you added.

The sound of a horn honking brought your attention back to the road. A Storm PAR truck pulled up alongside you and Scott leaned out the window.

"Taking a little break?" he taunted.

"Why don't you go drive into an EF5, Scott," you snapped.

He merely laughed. "Next time, you should leave the storm chasing to the adults...and maybe stop listening to intuition instead of science."

"That intuition just saved my ass," Tyler growled.

"And mine," Boone added.

"Intuition," you said softly. "The one thing you've always wanted but will never have."

Scott glared at you. "Maybe this is the right group for you, (Y/N). You never were on my level."

"You've got that backwards, Scott. You were never on mine."

A chorus of "ooos" went up around you, sparking a smirk to cross your face.

"Screw you, (Y/L/N)."

"I'm sure you'd like to." You gave him a teasing wave as he sped off, middle finger hanging out the window.

"You handled that very well," Tyler said softly.

You smiled. "I guess I just got tired of his shit."

"Personally, I thought it was pretty hot," Boone commented.

You laughed, along with Lily and Dani, while Tyler and Dexter groaned.

"Come on kids. Let's go get a drink."

"And food?" Boone asked hopefully. "I'm starving."

"Since you just survived a very harrowing experience, I think we can manage to scrounge up some food for you," you teased.

He grinned and gave you a kiss on the cheek before climbing back into the passenger seat of Tyler's truck.

Tyler's gaze lingered on you for a moment before he went back to his truck...a gaze that didn't go unnoticed by Lily.

"I saw that," she whispered once you were both back in your truck.

"You saw what?"

"The way he looked at you."

"It's called gratitude, Lily. Nothing more."

"I love you, but you are blind as hell. You both are."

You just shook your head and started the car, trying desperately to ignore the pit in your stomach that had formed the moment you'd lost sight of Tyler's truck in the storm...

**********

The team had made it through a round of drinks and appetizers before their meals hit the table. Adrenaline did wonders for one's appetite.

You'd managed to find a large booth in the bar across the street from your motel. You sat between Boone and Tyler, and the other three sat across from you. Lily's gaze was focused very heavily on you to the point where you kicked her under the table to get her to back off.

After everyone had shoveled down their meals and gotten another round of drinks in, Dani announced she wanted to play pool. Dexter and Boone immediately offered to join her, and Lily said she'd try her hand at it before following them to the tables at the other end of the bar.

"You don't wanna play?" Tyler asked.

"I suck at pool and you know it."

He chuckled softly. "You really are terrible at it."

You shot him a glare, but his warm expression softened yours instantly. "I'm glad you're okay," you whispered.

"Thanks to you, Lightning."

"And Lily. Mostly Lily."

He shook his head. "I should have listened to you right away. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. I probably sounded overprotective."

"Your instincts are always spot on. I shouldn't have ignored them."

"It's alright, T. You and Boone are fine. That's all that matters."

He was quiet for a moment, as if contemplating his next words very carefully. "I'm glad it was Boone riding with me today. I don't know what I would have done if it had been you."

"The same thing you did today. Nothing would have changed."

Tyler gave you a long, strange look. "I would have been terrified, Lightning. Absolutely terrified."

"Why?"

"I can handle putting myself in danger or even dying, but I don't like the idea of putting any of you in that situation, you least of all. If something happened to you?" His eyes closed and he breathed deeply. "I don't know what I would do."

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it, prompting him to look you in the eyes. "I know the feeling. I was scared out of my mind today, Tyler. More afraid than I've been in a very long time."

He scanned your face as if looking for something. You couldn't tell if he found it or not, but his expression changed back to the easy cockiness you were used to. "Wanna dance, darlin'?"

You couldn't help the surprise that crossed your face at the sudden change of topic. "What?"

He just grinned at you. "Dance with me."

You nodded slowly, letting him pull you out of the booth and to the dance floor. Tyler had never asked you to dance before and to be honest, you didn't think he even liked dancing.

You, however, loved to dance. You'd danced with every other member of the team and plenty of strangers. You were never ashamed to dance alone either. Music spoke to your soul in the same way storms did, and you'd always lost yourself in both.

You were surprised by Tyler's movements as he moved to the rhythm of the upbeat song. "I didn't know you could dance," you teased.

"You never asked."

"I've danced at every bar we've ever been to," you countered. "I don't think you've ever joined in!"

"I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of an expert."

You laughed. "I'm not expert, I just love it."

He grabbed your hand and spun you around a few times before spinning you into him. "Perhaps I just like to watch you move. It's one of the few times I see you look truly free."

He spun you away from him again before you could comment. You'd never noticed him watching you dance and his admission surprised you.

The song changed to a slower, more sensual beat, and Tyler pulled you into him, back against his front. You swayed your hips to the beat, trying to steady your heartbeat as Tyler's hands rested on them.

You felt his body moving sensually against yours--the feeling more intoxicating than you'd ever imagined. You felt his lips graze your temple before spinning you around to face him.

You couldn't look up at him, eyes focusing instead on his slightly exposed chest. He moved your body slowly with his, swaying to the rhythm of the music.

"Sweetheart," he said softly. "Look at me."

It took all your willpower to look up at him without panicking. He was looking at you with an expression you'd never seen before, and it made you breathless.

His eyes swept lovingly across your face as his right hand lifted to cup your cheek. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

You inhaled sharply, surprised as much by the tenderness in his voice as the words. "Ty..."

"Can I kiss you?" he murmured, his voice little more than a plea.

You didn't trust your voice, so you simply nodded.

He lowered his mouth to yours, pressing his lips against yours with a gentleness you didn't expect. It was a soft kiss at first, but as you responded to it, he nipped at your bottom lip, tongue pressing firmly against your lips, begging for entry. You parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss as he explored your mouth.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers gripping at the short hairs at the base of his neck. His left arm had wrapped around you, pulling you tightly against him, right hand cradling your face.

You had no idea how long the kiss lasted. It felt as if time stopped and the world around you ceased to exist. It was only the two of you and the moment you shared.

When you finally parted, you were both breathless. It was evident from his expression he didn't have an interest in stopping, and neither did you. You would have kissed him on that dance floor all night long.

He kissed you again, but it was over too soon for your liking. "Tyler," you whimpered as he pulled away.

He chuckled softly. "I don't wanna stop either, baby, but if we don't, I'm liable to make a bit of a scene on this dance floor."

You grinned. "What kind of scene?"

He leaned in close, lips a hair's breadth away from yours. "The X-rated kind."

You brushed your lips against his. "I'm down if you are."

His responding grin warmed your heart. "As hot as that would be, I'd rather not share you with the rest of this bar."

"Well then I guess it's a good thing our motel is right across the street."

He groaned softly. "Thank god." He pulled away, but you could see in his gaze he didn't want to. "Lemme just pay the tab."

"Oh, I gotta pay mine too."

The look he gave you halted you in your tracks. "I'm taking you to bed, Lightning. I'm paying your tab."

You laughed lightly and watched him walk away. Your gaze lingered on his very nice ass for a moment before flickering away in search of your team.

You met Lily's eyes across the room and the grin she gave you told you she'd seen everything. She pulled out her phone and typed for a few moments. Unsurprisingly, yours dinged the moment she looked back up.

Lily: YOU KISSED TYLER!

You: Technically, he kissed me.

Lily: Whatever! YOU KISSED!!! I told you he liked you!

You: Yeah, yeah. You can gloat later...we're going back to the motel. ;)

Lily: You can bet your ass I will! Have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't do.

You: Is there anything you wouldn't do?

Lily: Nope :D <3

You met your best friend's gaze again and she was grinning ear to ear. She gave you a big thumbs up, which sparked your own happy smile.

"Whatcha smilin' at, sweetheart?" Tyler asked, appearing beside you.

You looked up at him with a warm expression. "You."

"Mhmm." His tone told you he knew exactly what had made you smile, or rather whom.

"Walk me home?" you teased lightly.

He grinned. "It would be an honor, milady."

You laughed at his attempt at a proper British accent. "Stick to your normal accent, babe. It's hotter."

He smirked. "You think my accent's hot?"

You groaned as you walked out the door, Tyler right behind you. "I'm gonna regret admitting that, aren't I?"

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to a stop. "I don't know, darlin'. Are you?" His voice had deepened and that southern drawl made your knees weak.

"Not if you keep that up," you whispered.

He chuckled as he placed kisses on your neck, nipping gently at the place where your neck met your shoulder.

You let out a soft moan and he tightened his grip on your waist. "We better get moving or I'm gonna lose it."

You smiled. "As much as I'd like to see you lose control, I'd prefer it be in my room and not the parking lot."

He laughed softly and grabbed your hand. He guided you across the street and up the stairs of the motel. His eyes seemed to gleam in the moonlight as he watched you fish out your key and unlock your door.

The second you entered the room and closed the door, Tyler had you pressed against it, lips pressed firmly against yours. You sighed into the kiss, relishing the hard lines of his body beneath your hands.

You made quick work of the buttons on his plaid shirt, pushing it off his shoulders as his lips trailed down your neck. He nipped at your collarbone, earning a breathless moan from you.

Your hands instinctively went to his hair, but his backwards ball cap was in the way. You pulled it off his head and tossed it across the room before tangling your fingers in his dark blonde locks. He let out a soft sound of pleasure as your nails scraped against his scalp.

"Normally I treat my hats with more respect than that, but you're more than welcome to throw 'em around if it means I get to feel your hands in my hair."

You chuckled, tugging lightly on his roots. He groaned lowly in response, and you grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

He tugged his shirt the rest of the way off before sliding his hands under yours and removing it with a swiftness that surprised you. His eyes trailed down to your bra, but you were too focused on his bare chest to notice.

He leaned forward, aiming to press a kiss to your breast, but you held him at arm's length. "Sweetheart?"

"Hold on," you mumbled. "I'm trying to count your abs."

He laughed and shook his head slowly.

"It's not natural to have that many. It's absurd."

He laughed even harder, hand sliding under your chin to tilt your head up. When your eyes met his, you could see the mischief dancing in them. "You can count them later--after I'm done making you scream my name."

You smirked. "Is that a promise?"

"The screaming or the ab counting?"

You laughed lightly, smacking his chest affectionately. "The screaming, Tyler Owens. I am very interested in forgetting my name...if you think you can manage it."

He grinned wolfishly. "Oh darlin', my name will be the only thing you'll remember."

He didn't allow you to respond before kissing you with even more hunger than before. His hands deftly unclasped your bra and you let it fall to the floor.

Tyler pulled away just enough to look at your bare breasts, a low appreciative whistle escaping his lips. "Now these are the nicest pair I've ever seen." He punctuated his words with a pinch to each of your nipples, which had you arching off the door.

"Ty--"

Whatever you were about to say was cut off by moans as he lowered to take a nipple into his mouth. His hands massaged what his mouth could not, and he listened closely to your breathing to gauge your enjoyment.

After spending a sufficient amount of time appreciating your ample chest, he slid to his knees, mouth trailing kisses down to your abdomen.

He made quick work of removing your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lacy underwear you suddenly found yourself incredibly glad to be wearing.

"These are nice," he murmured, tracing a finger around the edge of the lace. "Were you expecting something, Lightning?"

His tone was teasing, but you could see a little bit of worry in his eyes. As if you would have wanted to be in this position with anyone but him.

"There's always a part of me that hopes you'll see them," you admitted softly.

His eyes lit up. "Oh? You wear them for me?"

You blushed. "I wear them for me, but...you're the only man I'd want to see them."

Tyler grinned and dipped his finger beneath the lace, hooking it around the crotch panel and tugging down slowly. You watched his hungry gaze as he lowered your underwear to the floor for you to step out of.

He gently traced a finger along the seam of your labia, a groan escaping his throat. "Fuck, baby. You're already soaked."

You blushed and let out a soft whine, desperate for him to actually touch you already. "Ty..."

He chuckled lightly. "Patience, sweetheart." He grabbed your left leg and pulled it over his shoulder, before leaning in to lick a thick stripe up your pussy.

You gasped, one hand going immediately to his hair while the other pressed against the door for balance.

"You taste even better than I imagined."

Every woman wants to hear that, and you were no exception, but you were becoming increasingly impatient. "Tyler, please."

"You gonna keep still for me, darlin'?"

You nodded rapidly.

"Good girl. Now let me enjoy my meal."

You weren't sure what pulled the moan from deep in your chest--his words or the incredible feeling of his tongue delving into your pussy. To be honest, you couldn't be bothered to care.

It was harder than you'd thought to actually stay still. His tongue was exceptionally talented and he had you bucking up against his mouth almost instantly.

He chuckled against your pussy as his hands grabbed your hips and held you firmly in place. He wasn't about to deprive himself of your delicious taste for even a second to admonish you for moving.

As your moans increased in volume and frequency, Tyler found himself loving the sound more than he'd ever thought possible. He knew he would do just about anything to hear them again.

Your grip on his hair tightened and you pulled on it periodically, each time breaking his concentration for a moment. You were still coherent enough to tuck that knowledge away for use at a later time.

"Tyler," you whimpered. "I'm close."

He groaned against you and his grip on your hips tightened to an almost bruising level. He brought all of his focus and effort to your clit, increasingly desperate to feel you come.

Gasps and moans ripped from your mouth as the tension in your abdomen reached a fever pitch. "Please, please, please."

Tyler didn't stop his ministrations--didn't change a single thing. Your legs began to shake and your grip on his hair was painful, but he'd let you rip every last strand out just to hear your moans as you came.

With a final flick of his tongue, you fell over the edge into a brilliant abyss of pleasure unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. The sounds pouring from your mouth were easily the most beautiful sounds he'd ever heard and he never wanted them to stop.

Your thighs were shaking as you came down from your high, Tyler's mouth still fixed on your pussy despite the grip you had on his hair. He finally let you pull him away, if only to prevent you from losing your balance.

He stood up, licking his lips happily as he gazed into your flushed face. His cock was throbbing painfully, but he was happy to ignore it in favor of ensuring your pleasure for every moment.

"If you're that good with your mouth," you started breathlessly, "then I'm intrigued to see what you can do with the rest of your body."

He grinned wickedly. "I'm more than happy to show you."

You smiled. "I thought you might be."

You grabbed his face and pulled him down for a heated kiss. He pressed his body firmly against yours and you could feel his erection pressing into your lower belly.

You palmed him through his jeans, giving him a firm squeeze. He groaned and bucked his hips against your hand. You smirked against his lips as you noted the impressive size beneath your palm.

"Baby," he ground out. "Don't tease me."

"Since you had mercy on me, I suppose I can do the same," you murmured.

You made quick work of removing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He helped you remove them, along with his boxers. Before you could see exactly what he was working with, he'd scooped you up in his arms and was carrying you to the bed.

He laid you down gently, climbing on top of you, lips pressed against yours in a hungry kiss. His tongue fought yours for dominance, but you allowed him to win, opting instead to reach for the hard length you could feel pressing against your thigh.

You wrapped your hand around him and began to stroke slowly, adding a little pressure each time you reached the head. Tyler groaned against your lips, clearly enjoying the sensations.

After a few moments, he grabbed your hand, stopping you mid-stroke. "Keep that up and this isn't gonna last nearly as long as I want it to."

You smirked and nipped at his bottom lip. "I didn't realize I had that effect on you."

"How you didn't figure it out is beyond me. I've wanted you with increasing desperation since the day I met you."

You inhaled sharply, surprised by his admission. He didn't want to give you time to respond, especially if you hadn't felt that same attraction, so he used your momentary distraction to brush his cock against your folds.

You both moaned softly, focus returning to the present situation.

"I would have liked to repay the favor, but I don't think I can stand another second without you inside me," you whispered.

Tyler smirked. "The feeling is mutual, baby."

He gripped his cock tightly and lined it up with your entrance. He paused, realizing he was forgetting an important step. "Shit. Do you, uh, do you have a condom?"

You shook your head. "It's okay though. I've got an IUD."

"Are you sure?"

You nodded. "I trust you."

"I'm clean and I haven't been with anyone since I got tested last."

"Same," you confirmed. "So please, if you could fuck me senseless, I would really appreciate it."

Tyler grinned and chuckled breathily. "Your wish is my command."

He knew he was well-endowed and he could see the flicker of worry in your eyes as you stared down at his cock. He didn't want to hurt you, but he knew the moment he felt your warmth around him he'd lose all sense of control.

"I can go slow, sweetheart," he said softly.

Your eyes flicked back up to meet his and you shook your head. "I wanna feel you--all of you. Please."

He nodded and pressed the tip of his cock against your core and slowly slipped into you. He watched your face for any sign of pain or discomfort, but he didn't see any.

"Take a deep breath for me, baby," he whispered.

The moment you inhaled, he thrust into you, filling you so fully you nearly screamed from the stretch alone. You gripped onto his shoulders tightly and gasped his name.

He lowered his head to yours and tried to steady his racing heart. He knew you'd feel good, but he'd never imagined it'd feel like this. "You feel incredible," he murmured. "Made for me, weren't you darlin'?"

"Ty," you whimpered. "Need you to move--please."

He started to move slowly, dragging his cock along your tight walls until he was almost all the way out before plunging back in. The initial discomfort eased as he moved until all you could feel was blinding pleasure.

Tyler watched your face, waiting until your expression morphed to pure ecstasy before shifting his angle. He elevated your hips, tugging both your legs up against his chest as he pounded into you.

You let out a cry of pleasure as his cock brushed against that spot inside you that made you see stars. Your nails dug into his biceps, the only part of him you could reach.

"You feel so good, baby," he ground out. "Squeezing me so tight."

Your eyes snapped shut and your head tilted back as a series of moans and expletives slipped from your lips. You could feel another orgasm building, pleasure so close you could almost taste it.

"Ty, please don't stop," you begged.

"I wouldn't dare."

He knew you were close--could feel it in the way your walls pulsed around him. He continued his pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust.

Your grip on his biceps tightened to an almost painful level, nails digging into his flesh so deeply they may draw blood, but he was too lost in the pleasure to care.

"You gonna come for me, sweet girl?" he murmured.

You were past words, only able to manage a rapid nod of your head. The sounds your bodies made mixing with the broken moans coming from both of you, was absolutely the most sinful sound either of you had ever heard. Tyler would have given his last breath to hear those sounds forever.

Your jaw went slack, the only warning Tyler had before he felt the explosion of pleasure rock through your body. Your pussy clenched him so tightly he couldn't move, the force of your orgasm stealing the breath from his lungs.

You clung to him as you came down from your high and he slowly lowered your legs so he could kiss you without breaking you in half. His lips brushed against yours, swallowing the soft panting breaths as they escaped your lips.

"How many more do you think you can give me, Lightning?" he murmured against your soft skin.

"I--I don't know," you answered breathlessly.

"Well then, let's find out." His tone was dominant, but you knew he wouldn't do anything you didn't want him to. If you asked him to stop, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

You nodded your agreement, earning a wicked smile from his handsome face. He slipped out of you and the sudden emptiness almost made you cry. Tyler noticed instantly and he cooed softly, "Aww, don't worry, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

His strong, callused hands stroked your sides before gripping your hips tightly and flipping you onto your stomach. You gasped in surprise, but immediately lifted your hips for him as if on instinct.

He chuckled softly. "Such a good girl, aren't you sweetheart? You know just what to do."

You shook your hips and whimpered softly, signaling your need to the man now hovering behind you. You felt his hand trail down your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake. When his hand reached your ass, he smacked it--hard enough to get a reaction, but not hard enough to really hurt you.

You moaned loudly at the pleasurable feeling and pushed your hips back towards him, desperate for him to touch you again.

"Oh you like that, pretty girl?" He smacked your ass again. "You like it when I spank you?" Another smack.

"Yes!" you gasped out between moans.

Tyler chuckled and gave you one more spank before sheathing himself in your warm heat without warning. Your cries mixed with his low groan as he bottomed out.

"Fuck, baby. So goddamn tight."

You pushed back against him and wiggled your hips, a broken "please" escaping your lips.

He couldn't resist your begging tone even if he wanted to. He set a brutal pace, pounding into you like he'd never get to do it again. He held your hips so tightly there was no doubt there'd be bruises there in the morning.

"So deep," you cried out between moans. "'s so good."

Tyler wanted to feel you come again, but he had a feeling you'd need a little extra stimulation this time. His right hand slid down your back until he could wrap it around your throat. Using it as leverage, along with the arm he slipped around your middle, he pulled you up so your back pressed against his chest.

You gasped, head falling back against him, exposing your neck to him as your heavily lidded eyes met his. He brushed his lips to your shoulder, then your neck, then your cheek--hips never faltering, hold never slipping.

"I need you to come again for me, baby."

You whimpered in response, but made no move to stop him as his dominant hand lowered to your throbbing clit. He maintained a grip on your throat, firm but gentle, while his other hand slowly massaged your clit.

The moans that fell from your lips were like music to his ears, along with the half-gasped whimpers of his name. "Let go for me, sweet girl. I've got you."

You lifted one arm to wrap around his head, entwining your fingers into his hair. You held onto him as best you could as your orgasm ravaged your body.

Tyler groaned as you tugged his hair, teeth nipping at your pulse point while he helped you ride out your high. He knew if he let go of you, you'd fall flat on your face, so he lowered you very gently to the bed before rolling you back over to look up at him.

"You look so beautiful like this," he whispered.

A soft blush bloomed across your cheeks, somehow only making you more beautiful. He wished he could take a picture of this moment, but he'd have to settle for the memory instead.

He lowered his lips down to yours and you met him with surprising intensity. You held on to the back of his neck and tugged at his hair as your tongues intertwined. You brushed your soaking core against his painfully hard length, and he groaned into the kiss.

"Want you to come too," you whimpered against his lips.

"Only if you come with me."

Your eyes widened as you pulled away from him. "I don't think I can."

"Will you try for me, pretty girl?"

You bit your lip, but you nodded slowly. "I'll try."

He grinned, nudging his nose against yours affectionately. "That's my girl."

He slowly slid back into you, starting his medium pace immediately. Your breath mingled with his, lips never more than a couple inches apart. He was supporting himself entirely on his arms, which were caged around you.

Unlike the previous positions, this felt unhurried, gentle...loving. You lost yourself in his blue-green eyes, gaze never leaving your face.

Tyler wanted to see you fall apart this time--really see you. He wanted to see all those little micro-expressions of pleasure--pleasure he was giving you.

To your surprise, you could feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly, feel the ache that always preceded an orgasm. Your hands were soft against his velvet-smooth skin as you traced the muscles up and down his back.

"Tyler..." you whispered, brushing your lips against his again.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Wanna come with you."

He kissed you gently. "Tell me what you need."

"Just don't stop," you begged softly.

His lips brushed your forehead. "Never."

You weren't sure if it was the passion of the moment or the heightened sensitivity from multiple orgasms, or maybe a mixture of both, but you were already teetering on the edge of bliss. Your nails dug into his back and your moans became louder--a subtle signal of your impending orgasm.

"I can feel you tensing, sweet girl. I know you're close." He kissed you again, tasting the moans that left your lips.

Your entire body began to shake and your breathing was ragged as you held tightly to Tyler like he was the only thing keeping you tied to earth.

Tyler was on the edge too...barely able to hold back the orgasm he'd been fighting for several minutes. It was taking almost all of his focus not to come before you did.

"Need you to come with me, (Y/N)," he begged. "Please, baby."

Hearing Tyler Owens beg was one of the sexiest things you'd ever heard, and it had you falling into an ocean of pleasure you might very well drown in.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart, Tyler's strong hands and whispered words the only things holding you together.

Your name escaped his lips like a prayer on repeat as he came, filling you with his seed. You clung to each other in the moments after the pleasure began to fade, neither of you willing to part just yet.

Tyler's large, toned body collapsed onto yours, pinning you beneath him as you both tried to catch your breath.

"Am I hurting you?" he mumbled.

"No."

"Good...because I don't think I can move."

You chuckled lightly, feeling his responding chuckle rumble against your chest.

Your fingers ran through his hair, gently messaging his scalp as you held him close to you. If you were being honest, you didn't want him to move...at least not anytime soon.

After several minutes, Tyler finally pulled himself up and you grumbled softly, wishing you could hold him a little while longer.

He chuckled as he looked down at you. "I'm coming right back, sweetheart. Just gonna grab something to clean you up with."

You watched him walk to the bathroom and return moments later with a warm, wet washcloth. He was gentle as he cleaned up the mess between your legs before wiping himself off and collapsing on the bed beside you.

"C'mere," he murmured, pulling you towards him. You obliged, laying your head on his chest and letting out a happy little sigh.

Tyler smiled as he placed a kiss to the top of your head, pulling you even closer despite how hot his skin felt.

"What're we gonna tell the team?" you asked softly, unsure if you really wanted the answer.

His responding chuckle made you smile. "Pretty sure they already know, darlin'. Especially if Lily's expression when we left the bar was anything to go by."

You blushed as you looked up at him. "So you're okay with this?"

Tyler could see the flicker of worry in your eyes and he wanted to assuage it immediately. "If by this you mean, telling every single person I see that you're my girl, then yes."

It was your turn to chuckle. "I think I like that."

He smiled. "Yeah? You like being my girl?"

You pulled yourself up to kiss him sweetly. "I like it very much."

He kissed you deeply before allowing you to settle back against his chest. He knew he wouldn't mind spending every day like this for the rest of his life. In fact, he was willing to do just about anything to ensure it...and so were you.

[theinnerunderrain]

"Venus, planet of love was destroyed by global warming" [Yandere! Emperor x Fem! Princess Reader x Yandere! Empress]

Warnings/tags : Yandere themes, mentions of war and violence, minor character death, historical, coercion, suggestive themes.

Notes: I might write a part 2 for this but it'll be a lot darker and have more suggestive (adult) themes!

+

The Empress of the Solis Imperium was renowned as the most noble woman on the entire continent.

As a mere princess from a neighboring region, you had the privilege of catching sight of the empress at a few royal occasions. A single meeting was all it took for you to deem her the most noble woman you had ever encountered. Every step she took, every breath she drew, every movement she made exuded nothing but elegance. She was a true epitome of beauty. You were a mere whisper of a presence from a distant land, with no power or wealth to rival hers. So, it was almost inevitable when the Solis Imperium chose to seize your country, the invasion heralded by the clash of swords and gunfire under the dreary cover of a rainy dawn. Startled from sleep, your mother hastily draped an overcoat over your nightgown, her urgent gestures propelling you down the dimly lit hallway.

As you followed closely behind your mother, shouts echoed around you, growing louder with each step. Suddenly, a deafening gunshot pierced the air, and you watched in horror as blood began to seep from your mother's back.

Her startled scream filled the hallway as she crumpled to the floor. Dropping to her side, you tried desperately to help, but before you could do anything, imperial knights caught up to you. Their strong grip tore you away from your wailing mother. You couldn't remember what happened next, only seeing another soldier approach her before darkness enveloped you, the last sound echoing in your mind being your mother's cries.

Upon waking, expecting to find yourself in a dark dungeon surrounded by eerie creatures and chains weighing down your wrists, you were instead greeted by the comfort of a soft bed and the sensation of clean, new clothes against your skin. A maid stood beside your bed, busily preparing a warm cup of tea. As she noticed you were awake, she turned to you with a gentle smile, her expression tender and welcoming.

"Ah, you're awake," she exclaimed softly, a look of relief crossing her face. "I was worried, as the young miss has been asleep for a few days now."

You tried to reply but only managed a soft cough, prompting the maid to hand you the cup of tea. You hesitated, staring at the warm liquid, its bright orange hue inviting yet unfamiliar. Taking a cautious sip, you were pleasantly surprised by its flavor—a delightful blend of grapefruit with a hint of honey.

"It must be delicious! It was recommended by the empress, after all," the maid remarked with a smile, her eyes bright with anticipation of your reaction. You nodded in response, taking another sip and feeling the warmth of the tea soothing your sore throat.

The maid continued speaking, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Ah, perhaps I shouldn't be distracting you so much. Please wait here; I must inform the empress." With that, she hurried out of the room, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and the weight of the news you had just received.

Before you could stop her to ask more questions, the maid hurriedly left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You stared at the now empty cup of tea, trying to process everything that had just occurred. A war had broken out, your kingdom invaded, your mother attacked, and an imperial knight had apprehended you. Your family, your people, your knights—all gone. They were gone, gone, gone. Your stomach twisted at the thoughts, a wave of nausea rising as if you were about to vomit. Dropping the empty cup of tea into your lap, you buried your head in your hands, overwhelmed by the realization that you might be the only one left alive. The weight of survivor's guilt bore down on you as you thought, "I should have died too."

As the door creaked open, you were startled from your reverie, looking up to behold the empress entering the room. Your eyes widened in awe, but you swiftly composed yourself, offering a slight bow despite your bedridden state.

"Ah, you're awake. I was quite worried for you," the empress remarked, gracefully making her way to sit beside your bed. Her smile was soft yet elegant, accentuating her features. Her mahogany blonde hair was artfully pinned behind her ears, and she was dressed in a flowing pastel gown that emphasized her regal presence. Her piercing blue eyes, filled with concern yet there was an oddness of madness behind them, met yours, and you felt a wave of reassurance wash over you in her presence.

"It must have been shocking to awaken to such violence. I offer my sincere apologies for the loss of your kingdom and family," the empress continued, her voice filled with genuine sympathy.

You couldn't help but feel a wave of sickness wash over you, knowing that she was partially responsible for the decision to invade your land. Despite this, you remained silent, listening to her words. She reached out and gently took hold of your hands, her fingers adorned with a silky white glove.

"Yet, you are still a princess, and we cannot simply discard you like an expendable commoner," the empress said, her tone laced with a mixture of sympathy and detachment.

You wanted to scoff at the irony of her words, to scream and claw at her flawless facade. Her excuses and lies flowed effortlessly, masking the truth with each elegant syllable. If her words held any weight, they would have spared your elder brother, who possessed far more knowledge and capability than you. Yet, they chose to spare you, knowing you lacked the charm, power, or influence to pose any threat.

"Given your tender age, my husband—or the emperor, in this case—has decided to position you as a concubine. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" she asked, her voice laced with a deceptive sweetness. As her thumb tenderly stroked against your palm, the scent of roses invaded your senses.

"Your only responsibility is to produce an heir. Many do not know this, but it is difficult for the emperor and me to conceive."

Your mouth instantly went dry at her words, and you stared at her with wide eyes, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. Yet, her expression remained sweet and unchanging, despite your obvious discomfort.

"Haha, don't stare at me like that. You're acting as if we're sending you to war," she teased, reaching to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. A wave of heat washed over you, beads of sweat forming on your forehead, contrasting with the empress's cold hand against your skin. Your head began to throb, and your limbs felt heavy and weak.

"Ah, the tea must be setting in now," the empress commented, her tone nonchalant as she observed your discomfort.

The tea? The tea that the maid had served you earlier. You realized, with a sinking feeling, that it must have been laced with something to induce this sudden weakness and disorientation. Panic began to rise within you as you struggled to maintain consciousness, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of the situation. The empress gently pushed you back onto the bed until your head rested against the pillow. As she stood up, her beautiful face left a lasting impression in your blurry vision.

"Rest up now, my dear. You have many long days ahead of you," she said, her voice fading as darkness overtook your senses, and you slipped into unconsciousness.

-

Upon awakening, the gravity of the empress's words became apparent. You were swiftly ushered into a bath, attended by servants who scrubbed your skin and combed your hair with oils. Their ministrations were firm yet gentle, leaving no marks but providing a discomfort that hinted at the magnitude of your new reality. After the bath, you were clothed in a dress of beige hue, its fabric exquisite and embellished with intricate floral patterns and delicate frills. It was a garment of elegance and refinement, a stark contrast to the simple attire of your past, serving as a poignant symbol of the profound changes in your life.

After the servants had prepared you, you were ushered into a grand dining hall to have breakfast with the empress and emperor. You were seated directly across from the empress, her forever sweet smile lighting up the room, while the emperor sat at the head of the table. A lavish spread awaited you, with stacks of food including soup, bread, chicken, and vibrant fruits laid out before you. However, your attention was drawn to the two rulers. It was your first time being in such close proximity to the emperor. In contrast to the empress, his hair was as dark as the night, and his eyes were a soft shade of teal, giving him a more reserved and colder aura compared to the warm presence of the empress. He appeared to be five or six years older than the empress, meaning he was approximately ten years older than you, nearing his forties.

"Princess [First Name]."

The resonant timbre of the emperor's voice momentarily broke your reverie, prompting you to look up at him, your hands instinctively fidgeting with your dress beneath the table.

"I apologize for the delayed greeting, as my duties have demanded much of my time," he began, his tone measured and formal. "Allow me to express my deepest condolences for the tragedy that befell your land. May your family rest in peace."

His words, though seemingly sincere, lacked the warmth and empathy that would have provided true solace. It was evident that his expression of sympathy was more a matter of protocol than genuine compassion for the plight of your small nation. You forced a smile, though it failed to reach the corners of your eyes.

"Ah, thank you so much for your kindness and sincerity," you replied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

You thanked them, though it was for nothing. Certainly not for the loss of your family and people. Not for the seizure of your land and the imposition of a life that felt like being a doll in the hands of a capricious child. The emperor nodded at your words before continuing, delicately cutting into a piece of chicken with a silver fork that appeared to be worth a small fortune.

"You are most welcome. I trust that the empress has explained your duties here within our nation?"

"Yes.."

You replied with a hint of hesitation, savoring a sip of the soup before you. Its delightful flavors and comforting warmth brought to mind the soups your mother used to lovingly prepare for you during times of illness. The emperor appeared pleased with your response, his gaze thoughtful as he studied your face. A small, knowing smile graced his lips before he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Excellent. Then you'll be well prepared for what lies ahead," he remarked, his tone carrying a sense of reassurance or you had hope for it to be reassurance. As he reclined in his chair, the empress's smile remained fixed upon you. Despite your efforts, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of worry seep down your spine as you tried to decipher their expressions, hoping to unveil the true emotions hidden behind their masks. However, their faces revealed no clues, leaving you with a sense of uncertainty.

"We are excited to welcome you. Your duties will officially begin today."

Perhaps this new chapter wouldn't be as dreadful as you had imagined. Maybe, if you were to make a mistake, it would hasten your reunion with your family. On the other hand, serving the emperor and empress might not be so terrible.

At least, that's what you hoped.

However, a strange feeling began to form at the pit of your stomach, planting seeds of doubt within you.

[thewulf]

Bulletproof Bonds || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Maybe a husband!Aaron x Long Time BAU!wife and how there’s a new member to the BAU and she keeps trying to flirt with Aaron but he keeps turning her down🥲 but the new member doesn’t know that Aaron and reader are married, and new member just thinks of reader as competition to get with Aaron, eventually leading to reader getting really mad cause new member does something really stupid on a case that leads to reader almost getting seriously injured??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the request @viscade !

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: Yelling, gunshot (non wounded)

In the bustling chaos of the BAU bullpen, Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the multitude of case files scattered before him. A usual sight for the unit chief. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face by years of chasing monsters in the dark.

You sat by his side, a silent sentinel amidst the whirlwind of activity. Your own workspace dedicated beside him cluttered with documents and crime scene photos. The faint aroma of stale coffee hung in the air as you both delved into the intricate web of clues left behind by the latest serial killer to plague the streets. It was always so easy with him, your husband. The way the two of you were able to bounce ideas off each other was like none seen before.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone present as they grappled with the enormity of the task at hand. Each unsolved case seemed to loom over them like a specter, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the justice yet to be served. Amidst all the usual chaos, Agent Sarah Miller made her presence known. Her arrival heralded by the soft click of her heels against the linoleum floor. She moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the world-weary countenances of her colleagues. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Sarah's eyes lingered on Aaron as she sauntered past his open aired desk, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She was young, ambitious, and hungry for success. Her gaze fixed on the formidable figure of the BAU's leader like a moth drawn to a flame.

Despite Aaron's cold indifference, she persisted in her attempts at flirtation, undeterred by his lack of response. Her tactics were shamelessly transparent, her words dripping with false sweetness as she sought to capture his attention. Agent Sarah Miller yet again walked past Aaron's desk, her gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before she turned her attention to you. There was a subtle flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she took in your presence, her lips curling into a barely concealed sneer.

"Hey, Hotch," she purred, leaning against the edge of his desk with practiced ease. "You must be tired of staring at all those files. Why don't you take a break and grab a coffee with me?" Her eyes kept looking back to you in brief flashes to gauge your reaction. You decided early on after her brazen attempts that you would give her none. A layer of disgust masked on top of the doe eyes she was attempting to give your husband was meant for you. She was very forward, you had to give her that one.

Aaron's response was polite but firm, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I'm sorry, Agent Miller, but I have work to do," he replied, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.

Undeterred, Sarah flashed him a flirtatious smile, her gaze lingering on him expectantly. "Maybe some other time, then," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness before she finally strolled away.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her blatant display of interest, the subtle scoff escaping your lips as you returned your focus to the files sprawled across your desk. "Some profiler she is," you muttered under your breath, the sarcasm dripping from your words like venom. It was a small act of defiance, a way to vent the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as you watched Sarah's failed attempts at seduction.

Your comment earned a small smirk from Aaron, his lips quirking up in amusement as he glanced up from his work. His eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, a shared understanding of the absurdity of the situation. In that fleeting moment, you found solace in the unspoken reassurance that he was not blind to Sarah's antics, nor was he unaffected by them.

As the tension in the room continued to get heavier, you exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, the unspoken bond between you speaking volumes. It was a silent reminder of the unbreakable connection that bound you together, a tether grounding you amidst the disarray swirling around you. In that moment, you drew strength from the knowledge that no amount of flirtation from the new agent could ever hope to rival the deep-seated love and loyalty that defined your marriage.

But beneath the surface, resentment simmered, fueled by the blatant disrespect for the boundaries of your marriage. Each lingering glance, each flirtatious comment served as a reminder of the fragile line Sarah was treading, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the calm facade. Yet, as frustrating as her antics were, you knew that the true test of your marriage lay not in her misguided advances but in the unwavering trust and devotion you shared with Aaron. A bond that would withstand any challenge thrown your way.

You had to give the girl credit. She certainly didn’t stop. It was not even an hour later that the girl came crawling right back to him. In the dimly lit bullpen of the BAU, the seasoned agents huddled together, their eyes darting furtively around the room as they exchanged knowing glances. Reid, Garcia, Morgan, and Prentiss stood in a tight circle. Their voices hushed as they leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, who's going to crack first?" Garcia whispered, her eyes sparkling mischievously behind her glasses.

Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "My money's on Y/N. She's got that poker face down pat."

Reid nodded in agreement, adjusting his glasses. "And she's got a wicked sense of humor. I don't think she's sweating it."

Just then, Morgan, ever the observant one, interjected with a grin. "You know what, I'm with both of you on this one. Y/N's handling this like a pro. She's probably just waiting for the perfect moment to drop a witty comeback."

The others turned to look at you, noticing your bemused expression as you observed the scene unfolding with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The new agent, eager to impress, leaned in a little too close to Hotch, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "So, Hotch, any plans for dinner tonight?"

Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, his expression remaining impassive. "Just finishing up some reports, Agent. Nothing planned."

Undeterred, the new agent persisted, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "Well, if you change your mind, I know this great Italian place down the street."

Hotch merely nodded, returning his attention to the file in front of him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Agent."

Behind his back, the BAU members couldn't contain their laughter, stifling their giggles as they watched the new agent's attempts fall flat. It was clear that Hotch was immune to her charms, his focus unwavering even in the face of relentless flirting.

As Sarah retreated, finally somewhat defeated, the BAU members exchanged triumphant looks, their silent bet settled. Hotch may have been unflappable in the field, but when it came to dodging unwanted advances, he was truly a master of his craft. And you, well, you were just enjoying the show, your amused smile barely masking your annoyance as you watched the scene unfold.

The breaking point came during a particularly intense case, where the unsub's erratic behavior had everyone on edge. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned warehouse, every nerve on high alert.

In the heat of the pursuit, Sarah's impulsive decision shattered the fragile equilibrium you had struggled to maintain with your team. Ignoring protocol and disregarding the safety of the team, she charged ahead recklessly, her actions sending shockwaves rippling through your ranks. Bullets flew past you like angry hornets, the deafening roar of gunfire echoing off the walls as chaos descended upon you.

It happened in the blink of an eye, a split-second decision with far-reaching consequences. A bullet sliced through the air like a deadly whisper, its trajectory aimed straight for your chest. But thanks to the protective barrier of your bulletproof vest, the impact was nothing more than a forceful shove, the fabric absorbing the blow with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, pain searing through your body as you stumbled backward, clutching your chest.

As the adrenaline faded and the reality of what could have been sunk in, fury ignited like a wildfire within you. You rounded on Sarah, your voice a crescendo of anger as you unleashed the pent-up frustration that had been building for weeks. Each word was a dagger aimed straight at her heart. Your tone laced with a venomous ferocity that mirrored the intensity of the emotions raging within you.

Coughing up blood, your vision blurred as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the pain as you staggered to your feet. With a primal roar, you lunged at Sarah, grabbing her by the collar with a strength born of desperation.

"What the fuck was that?" you yelled, louder than you ever had before. And certainly not in front of the team. Your voice raw with fury. Each word was a thunderclap, reverberating through the warehouse like a warning shot. "You could have killed me! Or them! Do you even realize what you've done?"

But Sarah's response was a defiant sneer, her gaze unwavering in the face of your righteous indignation. "I did what needed to be done," she spat, her voice laced with arrogance. "I'm not afraid to take risks to get the job done."

The words were like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of the recklessness that had nearly cost you everything. With all your rage, you shoved her away, your hands trembling with anger as you struggled to contain the tempest raging within you.

"You're a liability," you growled, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. "And if you ever put my life, their lives,” You pointed to Spencer and Emily behind you, “in danger again, I won't hesitate to take you down myself."

As you stood there, trembling with fury and pain, the rest of the team made their way over. You still hasn’t seen Aaron yet but the rest of them looked on in shock and disbelief. Derek surged forward, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you back from the confrontation. "Easy there Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to calm the storm raging within you. "Cool off."

Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Finally, Aaron found you after too many moments of losing it in front of everyone. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sight of blood staining your lips, his heart clenching with fear at the sight. "What happened?" he demanded. His usually calm voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to gently touch your arm. His fingers trembled against your skin, his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the moment.

Still reeling from the confrontation and the shock of narrowly escaping serious injury, Spencer stepped forward, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "Aaron, Sarah made a nearly fatal mistake," he said, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Her impulsive actions endangered everyone on the team, especially Y/N." You were thankful he was willing to step in because you weren’t quite sure if you had the right words.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury as he turned his gaze on Sarah. The air around him crackled with palpable anger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice cold and steely as he pinned her with a hard stare.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her bravado faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze. "I...I was just trying to apprehend the unsub," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

But Aaron's patience had worn thin, his temper flaring like a raging inferno. "You made a reckless decision that put the entire team at risk," he snapped, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "Until you can prove that you're capable of following protocol and putting the safety of your teammates above all else, you will not be back in the field."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions. Sarah's expression fell, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his judgment. It was a harsh lesson, but one that she would need to learn if she ever hoped to earn back the trust of her colleagues and prove herself worthy of wearing the badge.

As Aaron turned away, his attention returning to you with a renewed sense of protectiveness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of your team leader and husband. But as you tried to catch your breath, a sudden coughing fit wracked your body, drawing Aaron's attention back to you. Concern flashed across his features, his eyes narrowing with worry as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to steady you.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Let's get you checked out, alright?"

You attempted to speak, but the coughing fit continued, leaving you gasping for air. So, you shook your head in protest. You were fine and you knew it, but the damn bullet hit you right in the lung leaving you gasping for air. Aaron's worry deepened, his brow furrowing with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hands hovering anxiously over your shoulders.

"Honey, just breathe," he urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he placed a comforting hand on your back. "We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of you. I promise." It wasn’t usual that he dropped those sweet terms of endearment to you in front of the team, but he couldn’t really care. Not when he could’ve lost you.

Despite your protests, Aaron's determination remained steadfast. With gentle insistence, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest with a strength born of love and concern. "You're going to the hospital," he declared, his voice unwavering as he carried you towards his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer sweetheart."

As Aaron settled into the driver's seat beside you, his eyes flickered with concern as he stole glances, his hand reaching out to brush against yours in a silent gesture of reassurance. But despite his unwavering determination to get you to the hospital, you couldn't help but feel a stubborn sense of resistance bubbling within you.

"I'm fine, Aaron," you insisted, your tone tinged with frustration as you crossed your arms over your chest. "This is incredibly dramatic. You’ve been hit in your gear too."

Aaron's expression softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I am," he admitted with a chuckle. "I also know what it feels like honey. I’d rather be safe than sorry."

You shot him a playful glare, unable to suppress the teasing smile that danced on your lips. He cared for you, truly. Every inch of himself loved you more deeply than even you could have fathomed. You also knew that love bore stubbornness and there was no talking him out of what he knew he had to do. You were just along for the ride now. "You just can't resist playing the hero, can you?" You spoke up after a moment of silence between the two of you.

Aaron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over at you. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "Always remind me never to get on your bad side," Aaron quipped, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips as he attempted to alleviate the tension that hung heavy in the air.

You managed a weak laugh trying your hardest to hide the pain radiating from your chest. However, so grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were about to take matters into your own hands back there," he teased gently, his voice laced with affection.

The image of you, ready to throw down with the new agent, brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within you this time. "Well, she did have it coming," you admitted with a mischievous grin. "But I guess I'll let you handle the heroics this time."

As the laughter subsided, Aaron's expression turned more serious, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry things got so heated," he said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I should have stepped in sooner. I thought she was harmless. Dealt with her type so many times before." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finding your hand and lacing his fingers within yours.

You squeezed his hand, a warm smile spreading across your face. "It’s not your fault you’re such a silver fox," Tossing him a wink you couldn’t help but to tease him right on back. It’s how you knew everything was going to be just fine. The two of you had dealt with so much worse and come out even stronger, this would be nothing but a minor blip on your journey together.

Aaron laughed at your playful comment, a warmth spreading in his chest at your familiar banter. "Ah, so you're saying my charm is both a blessing and a curse," he retorted with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You nodded, a fond smile playing on your lips. "Something like that," you agreed, feeling a surge of gratitude for the ease with which you could navigate even the toughest moments with Aaron by your side.

As the car glided through the streets towards the hospital, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the engine. Despite the events that had unfolded, you found solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With each passing mile, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of reassurance that only Aaron could provide. His unwavering love and support was everything you needed. He guided you through the darkness, illuminating the path forward with hope and determination.

As you arrived at the hospital and Aaron helped you out of the car, you knew that this was just another chapter in your life together. You couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the man beside you, your literal partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Together, you were truly unstoppable.

Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y

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[sun-snatcher]

Your take of Círdan being an old man who enjoys pestering people is my absolute fave bc yeah if I was the oldest elf alive I'd be a little shit half the time too for funzies

( credits to the lovely @peregrintook for this beautiful gifset ! )

✵ — WATER-DAMAGED!

summ.  Elrond arrives at Círdan’s workshop. He finds his heart instead. or:  The Herald and the Artisan fall in love. pairing.  elrond peredhel / f!reader  w.count.  1.2k (a lil baby!) a/n.  set in s2e1, friends-to-lovers kinda , fluff galore , mutual pining , Círdan being a thirdwheel (but highkey enjoying it because he’s a little shit like that)

       YOU’RE QUICK TO attempt to bundle Elrond up like a child when he’d arrived. 

Frantic, almost, at the sight of Lindon’s renowned Herald— drenched to the bone, head-to-toe, and dripping river water from his mess of curls, leaving puddles and a wet track wherever he went on the stone of the workshop.

“He’s not here yet,” is what you’d said, when he’d urged you for Master Círdan. The shipwright had gone off to appraise proper timber for the frames of the vessels prepared for Valinor, now that High King Gil-Galad has decreed preparations to set sail. 

“But he should return by nightfall, latest. So will you please sit down, Elr—”

“I cannot,” he overrides, wholly unconvincing through the chatter of his teeth. “You’ll be at risk if I stay.”

You blink. “…From who?”

“I—”

In the distance, a horse whinnies. 

Elrond tenses instantly.

“…Are you— hiding?” you realise, as he springs to his feet to make headway for the sidedoors. “Elrond, wait!”

“Thank you, truly, for your kindness, but I cannot allow the King’s Guard—”

“That was just Silef,” you say incredulously, muscling the door back shut and stubbornly standing in his way. “My mare, remember? From the stables just uphill?” 

A pause. 

He listens with pricked ears: gates of a stable door squeaking; hooves clopping from paddock ground onto pasture grass; the sound of grain and feed being chewed on, after a moment's pass. A notable absence of marching Elven armour and feet stamping its way downhill towards him. 

Just Silef. You’re right. He’d been paranoid. 

“Á quildessë, Elrond,” comes your quiet voice, gentler now as you chase to meet his anxious gaze. “I will make sure no one comes into this workshop, unless it’s Master Círdan himself,” you assure, resting your hands on his forearms. “Just please, sit down. You’re shaking.” 

…He is. He hadn’t even realised. 

It might have been adrenaline, or the bite of the cold from wind and water— but he’s trembling, nonetheless, like a leaf. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, much, much later, when you’d stoked the coals of the workshop hearth to life, and set him upon a wooden seat beside it.

From the open foyer of the atelier, the sea-reflected hues of the setting sun does little to hide the tentative worry in your features. Your voice is as gentle as the lap of tidewater. “There’s nothing to apologise for.”

“I shouldn’t have… barged in.” 

I shouldn’t have involved you in the first place, and put you at risk for treason for harboring a dissenter.

The firelight paints your face in soft, flickering licks of ochre as you tenderly dry off the dampness in his hair, the water trickling down his face. “You were afraid,” you reason generously.

(You don’t tell him that he looks adorably… pitiful. With eyes like that of a kicked puppy, almost. Even worse that he looks half-drowned.)

Elrond doesn’t argue. You’ve always been a kind friend to him. So, so kind. Ever-ready and steadfast to extend an olive branch, impervious to tactlessness, or even offence, from the sheer tenacity of your patience. Elrond has always admired you for it. Elrond has always—

Liked you. Cared. Loved.

(Too much to allow himself to let you get caught in this tangle he’s been forced into.)

He lays a hand over yours, and you pause mid-wipe of a droplet down his lined jaw. His eyes are shut briefly, as if falling into the comfort of your touch— candid indulgence. It makes your heart stutter.

That you’re allowed a quiet moment to admire him this close, so much so you can see the rings of sundering blue in his eyes; or to touch him this affectionately, so much so you could feel the very change of temperature on his skin— 

You think you’ve been blessed with a handsome vision by the Valar themselves.

“You must be curious,” he says, voice a low murmur. His palm swallows yours entirely. His fingers are warm by now. (You shouldn’t notice such details— but you do. You’re an artisan, after all. Or perhaps hopeless romantic is a better suited term?) “But this is beyond even me.”

He slides your hand down, much to your dismay, and uncurls the pouch he’s been clutching onto since he arrived. Now that it’s infront of you, there’s a pull to it you can’t quite understand.

You reach, almost too keenly— 

—but you close his fingers around it instead.

If Elrond had shown any surprise, you didn’t notice. 

“Must be why you’ve sought out Master Círdan,” you muse, looking up at him. “If it’s beyond you, it’s most certainly beyond me, a mere shipwright’s apprentice.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Elrond adds quickly, realising how he must have come across. 

“I know,” you laugh, before he can take off into a tangent. (It’s bright and musical to Elrond’s ears— thinks if he could drown in its sound, he would have done so willingly.) “You forget I know you.”

Not entirely, he doesn’t say. You don’t know how much my heart sings to be near you. How much your presence— or the very thought of you, even— have always brought comfort to me. 

You don’t know how much I’ve been resisting the urge to kiss you since you first sat me down by the fire.

He feels a little smile coming, the kind he couldn’t help, that would light his whole face whenever he cast his gaze on you. “You do, don’t you?” he whispers, voice sinking into something almost— nostalgic, at the sudden unravelling of old memories shared with you throughout the age.

“Well, when it comes to Kingdom politicians…” you shrug teasingly. “As much as I’m allowed to be privy to.”

He barely laughs, too busy looking at you with rapt, reverent attention. It curls a timidness in your heart. “You are allowed all of me. Always.”

Something takes wing in your chest. Butterflies, maybe. Doves taking flight in your ribcage. 

As are you, to me.

At least, that's what you would’ve said, had your ears not caught the distant clop of hooves headed downwind towards the river edge. “Master Círdan is here,” you say instead, diverted. You recognise the huff of his steed anywhere.

You watch Elrond perk up and tune into the approach: the rustle of saddle and stirrups, the shuffle of robes and footsteps. When the doors squeak open and shut, the Kingdom’s shipwright finds the Kingdom’s herald standing in the heart of his own workshop.

“Elrond,” he says, by way of greeting. There’s naught a hint of surprise in his voice— Círdan had felt a call louder than the sea long before he’d arrived, and now he can understand it’s carried in the herald’s charge. “Have you come to seek a certain apprentice of mine?” he asks, regardless.

It’s playful. Knowing.

“He seeks you, Master Círdan,” you answer politely, rounding from the corner where you’d grabbed your spare pelerine cloak to pass to Elrond. “Here, to keep warm.”

“Thank you.”

You bow your head to them both. “I shall be at the lighthouse just across.”

Your fingertips brush against Elrond’s hand as you leave. It tarries; merely a millisecond— enough, however, for Círdan’s keen eyes to catch— before he watches you depart through the sidedoors to give them the privacy they needed. 

Elrond's hand flexes reflexively. Longingly.

A beat passes.

“…Are you sure it is still me you seek?” Círdan muses, brows shot to his hairline.

The tips of Elrond’s ears burn. 

[pyeongstarr]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Nothing's Free — 박성화

˙⋆✮ pairing/s: dilf!seonghwa x fem!intern

˙⋆✮ in which: you are eternally grateful to your best friend's dad for giving you an internship, but just how grateful are you really?

˙⋆✮ genre/s: smut

˙⋆✮ warnings: unprotected sex, drunk sex, cnc, coercion, dubcon. choking, dacryphilia, creampie, spanking, hair pulling, bondage. power imbalance, reader got roofied (sorry). seonghwa is really persuasive and isn't taking 'no' for an answer. reader has always had a crush on hwa but you know...

˙⋆✮ word count: 4.5k

˙⋆✮ author's note: i know stuff like cnc isn't everyone's cup of tea and that's fine. read at your own discretion. xoxo. (this turned out a lot darker than i intended, sorry)

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| | beyoncé // all up in your mind

“Again, thanks a ton for hooking me up with this internship,” Murphy remarked while packing her laptop into her bag.

“No problem. You’re basically family, anything for you,” Sujin reassured her best friend.

As she walked towards the door, she turned to say, “Also, is the car necessary? I’m perfectly fine with taking the train.”

“You’re just gonna have to talk to my dad about it, sorry,” Sujin joked, waving ‘goodbye’ as the door closed and Murphy went on her merry way.

She was already behind on time as it was, after her alarm had failed to go off and wake her. Heels clinking against the marble floors as she speedwalked to the elevator, catching it just before the doors shut. As soon as the doors opened, she walked swiftly through the lobby and exited the building. Parked on the roadside right in front of the entrance, there was a black Mercedes sedan waiting, just for her. The chauffeur stood at attention with their hands behind their back. The main advantage of living in the inner city was the short commute between work and home. Although the chauffeur tried their best to weave through the traffic congestion, she still arrived 30 minutes later than usual.

As grateful as she was for the employment opportunity, what she abhored most was the environment. Or rather, how the environment reacted to her. Everybody knew everybody, but she knew almost nobody. Sentenced to exhile by those who fawned over the head honcho, simply because she was the favourite. While others had worked there for years on end, Murphy just came strutting in one day and given a seat at the boss’ desk. Accompanied him to every meeting, assisted with every project. She was basically his righthand woman, and the other ladies were not pleased, to say the least. It was the same routine all-around; she’d exit the elevator, walk chin-up into the office while the echo of her heels subdued the ambience, the others would gawk and scoff, and she’d beeline straight to her superior’s quarters.

The office was empty, no sign of the boss in sight. None of his belongings were there but the telephone rang incessantly, cutting through the austere silence. She jogged over to the desk, laid her bag and coat down on her side of the desk, and circled around to answer the phone. She sat down in the leather chair and pressed the phone to her ear.

“Park Real Estate, Murphy Isles speaking, how may I help you?” Her voice softly heralded.

“Good morning. This is Ingrid Maxwell of Kim Resorts, I was looking to get a meeting with Mr. Park today on behalf of Kim Hongjoong. Do you have any available openings?”

“Let me check how his schedule is looking,” She turned on the computer and located the planner. Her eyes browsed through the schedule, just one meeting after another.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Park has back-to-back meetings all day. I could pencil you in for after hours if it’s urgent?” She offered apologetically.

“That’s also fine, thank you. Mr. Kim would like to host the meeting on resort premises, if it’s not any trouble.”

“Noted, Mr. Park will be there at 17:30. Send my regards.”

As the phone call neared its end, Seonghwa came strutting in. A rush of heat washed over in waves on Murphy’s face and she suddenly felt her body warm up. She stood up and stepped aside, allowing Seonghwa to take his rightful place. With his hair slicked back, slivers of grey creeping in, and suit hugging his body just right, he was a silver fox in the making. A sight for the ages. The man had a perpetual grave look to him. Despite being old enough to father her, he admittedly had an allure that she couldn’t find in boys her age.

When Murphy and Sujin graduated from university a few months prior, Sujin swayed her father into hiring Murphy. Seonghwa was a successful entrepreneur, who headed a real estate empire, and having known Murphy since she was in high school, he was more than willing to give her the headstart that she was in dire need of. Even going as far as, not only hiring her a private car to take her everywhere she wanted to go, but also purchasing a condo in which she and his daughter could cohabitate. He wanted to make life simple for her.

“Kim Hongjoong’s assistant asked for a meeting today, said it was urgent. The meeting’s at 17:30.”

“Is that so?” He coaxed, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped together, holding Murphy’s gaze. “Must be important if he wants to meet after hours.”

Murphy settled down in the chair opposite Seonghwa. “Also, Mr. Park, is the private car really necessary? The train stations are within walking distance of the office and the condo.”

“Nonsense. If you’re going to work for me, it should reflect. Don’t worry about it,” A lazy grin tugged at his lips.

“I don’t know about that. The whole office already hates me for even sharing a desk with you,” She mindlessly grumbled as she set up her laptop, but her words didn’t miss him.

He leaned forward in his chair, eyebrows furrowed, “Who’s giving you trouble, Murphy?” He pried.

“No one, it’s nothing,” She feigned a smile and kept her eyes focussed on the screen.

[ . . . ]

Towards the end of business hours, while Murphy sat in her place, another intern, Wooyoung, leaned liberally against Seonghwa’s desk, facing her. In the past few minutes they had been talking, he’d managed to make her laugh and blush. The pair hit it off from the day Murphy set foot in the office months ago, but it was only a week back when Wooyoung had conjured up the courage to ask her out, to which Murphy enthusiastically agreed to entertain his suggestion.

“So, we’re still on for tonight, right?” Wooyoung hinted, and Murphy nodded. “Awesome, you’re gonna love this place, Murph. I’m telling you,” He held her chin between his fingers.

The door opened so soundlessly, that neither were aware until they heard Seonghwa’s weighted footsteps headed towards them. He caught sight of what had transpired, slightly annoyed that it was happening in the sanctity of his own space. Wooyoung scrambled to get on his feet, while Murphy remained resolute. Seonghwa loomed over the intern, eyes cold and stygian, and face void of expression.

“No fraternising during work hours, unless you want to serve a 1-hour notice,” He chastised. “You do that out there, not in my office, and certainly not on my desk.”

Wooyoung bowed his head in shame, “I’m sorry, Mr. Park. It won’t happen again,” he conceded before scurrying away, and out of the office.

“Wooyoung dropped off the market reports. Looks like your shares have gone up 2% in valuation,” She handed over the sheet of paper.

Seonghwa leaned against the desk, in the same spot formerly occupied by Wooyoung, as he surveyed the findings. “Slow but steady growth. Looks promising, what do you think?”

“I’d say this is your best investment thus far. Look,” She turned the laptop to him, “month-end projections, 35% in returns. Your shares will be worth millions by the end of the quarter.”

“I’m so glad that I listened to you on this one.”

“You’re welcome,” She chimed.

A cheek-to-cheek smile appeared on Seonghwa’s face. “Let’s go, don’t want to be late for that meeting.”

The two cleared the desk and packed away their belongings. Walking towards the door, she trailed right behind while he led the way. He opened the door and made way for her to step out. After locking, they fell into pace with one another as they walked side by side towards the exit. From wall to wall, eyes in the office followed them all the way to the elevator. With each set, she grew more anxious than usual. How she hoped the earth would just open up and swallow her. The chauffeur opened the doors for both of them, then drove to their intended destination. While Seonghwa spoke on the phone, Murphy sat with one leg crossed over the other, watching the buildings pass by in motion. Luckily, the Friday afternoon traffic had not begun yet. They arrived just in time, with only a few minutes to spare.

When they entered the premises, they were greeted by a concierge who led them through the building. They walked past a grand dining hall with grand chandeliers that hung from above, glass windows from floor to ceiling, and rustic décor, all of which caught Murphy’s eye. The look in her eyes did not pass him. Inside of the office, Seonghwa and Murphy were greeted by Kim Hongjoong, the head of the resort, and his secretary, Ingrid. They exchanged greetings, but right before the meeting began, Hongjoong whispered something into Ingrid’s ear, and she nodded.

Ingrid walked over to Murphy, “Let’s go get something to drink, shall we? Leave the gentlemen be,” she suggested.

She was hesitant to move from her spot but Seonghwa reassured her, giving her the green light. Ingrid and Murphy left the office, and took their places at an unoccupied table on the balcony. A waiter approached them, jotted down their orders in his notebook, and disappeared. He returned with a tray holding two beverages, and placed each one in front of the girls.

“So, what’s it like working for Mr. Park? Never seen him come to these meetings with anyone, other than himself,” Ingrid sipped on her drink.

“I like it. For the most part, the job’s easy and the pay is even better. Can’t say I’ve made friends though.”

“I’ve heard,” Murphy’s eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. “I have a friend who works at Park Real Estate, they talked about you once.”

“Oh God…”

“Nothing bad, don’t worry about it,” Ingrid chuckled lightly. “I get it, happened to me when I first started working for Hongjoong.”

“The stares… did they ever stop? The gossip?” A hint of desperation was laced in her question.

“No,” Ingrid refuted. “I just stopped caring. Realised that Hongjoong’s opinion was the only one that mattered. Can’t help that the boss loves me.”

The sky was soon void of any light by the time the meeting concluded. Ingrid and Murphy talked the time away, bonding over their shared experiences of being the boss’ favourite. One laughed, while the other would relay a story. They didn’t realise how fast the time had past them. On the other end of the passageway, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were just wrapping up their meeting. They stood by the door and talked a bit. Hongjoong reached into his pocket and brought out a key, which he handed over to Seonghwa. He looked at it, confused by the gesture.

“On the house,” Hongjoong urged, hinting at the intern at the other end of the passageway. “Ask Ingrid to throw in some party favours, in case you need them. And check the drawers.”

Seonghwa smirked, “Pleasure doing business with you, Kim.”

Hongjoong disappeared back into his office, as Seonghwa sauntered over to the balcony. Unbeknownst to her, Murphy was so engrossed in the conversation, she didn’t hear when Seonghwa called to her.

“Mr. Park…” Ingrid acknowledged the man who stood right beside Murphy.

“Ingrid, Hongjoong mentioned something about party favours?” Seonghwa briefly glanced at Murphy, Ingrid nodded with a slight grin on her face.

“It was nice meeting you, Murphy. I really hope we can do this again,” Ingrid said as she stood from her place.

Murphy stood up and circled around to hug Ingrid, “I’ll call you,” she affirmed.

The three exchanged goodbyes before Ingrid headed elsewhere, and Seonghwa accompanied Murphy towards the exit. They headed in the same direction they came in earlier, except now, He led them into the dining hall that she was doting over earlier on. She felt uneasy as she had to get home and prepare for her date with Wooyoung.

“Mr. Park, I need to get home. There’s somewhere that I really need to be.”

“Relax, Murphy. We won’t be long, 30 minutes, I promise.”

And 30 minutes it was. Only 30 minutes into their shared dinner, Murphy had already had a lot to drink, but not enough to get her drunk. Just buzzed. Buzzed enough to get her to loosen up. Enough to see Seonghwa as just a man, and not her best friend’s father. While they drank and talked the time away, he would briefly touch her intimately in passing. Their conversations were less rigid and formal, and more open and inviting.

“Earlier you mentioned being mistreated in the office, what’s wrong?”

At first she was hesitant, but eventually allowed herself to be honest. “Everyone basically... h-hates me because they think you’re playing favourites,” Her voice quaked and her breath shuddered, her head hung.

“You don’t really believe that, do you now?”

She sniffled and her back shuddered, the faint sound of her weeping landed on his ears. He held her chin between his fingers and cocked her head up, meeting her glossy, distressed eyes. His thumb brushed away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry,” She croaked. “I- I thought I could get past it and pretend it’s not happening. But I’m just having a hard time adjusting. I feel like a castaway and I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“I believe you, but you know, it’s only natural that I favour you. I’ve known you the longest.”

When she noticed how inappropriate the entire interaction had become, she wiped her tears. “Oh God...” She whispered, gulping down the rest of her wine. “I- I need to go, I’m meeting somebody.”

As she stood up from her place, her head suddenly felt light. She held onto the table, and as she was about to stand again, her muscles became languid, causing her to lose balance. Seonghwa was quick to catch her around the waist. She tried speaking, but her words were jumbled. Her breathing was laboured, and the whole room suddenly felt like it was lacking in ventilation. He took her belongings and led her to a room, using the key acquired earlier on and unlocked the door.

He laid her down gently on the bed. His eyes watched with a raging hunger as he undressed his upper body, removing the tie, jacket, and shirt. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her semi-conscious body. His lips found her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses, nibbling at her skin. His hand fiddled with the front zipper of her dress, slowly dragging it down to reveal her matching set of underwear.

“Mr. Park... w-what are you doing? I...” She gulped as her words lazily hung in the air. “I don’t feel so good...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you,” He promised between kisses. “You’ll feel better in no time...”

He continued to kiss her neck and bare chest, whilst his hands caressed her thighs with desperation. Roaming everywhere from her breasts, to her ass. He loved the feeling of her skin in his hands. The contact was everything. The scent of her perfume created a bubble of sophism, fooling him into believing that they were fated to be.

“You asked for this, Murphy. Those skimpy little dresses you wear and always putting your boobs in my face. You were just begging for me to give it to you,” He growled into her ears, sending a wave of fear coursing through her body.

He posited himself between her thighs and pressed kisses on her stomach. Each kiss moved higher than the last. Wetter and sloppier than before. Murphy squirmed beneath him while he had her hands pinned over her head. With the little energy she had, her feet tried kicking him off, but did so to no avail.

“Please, no...” She wept, tears running down the sides of her face as the white pillowcases stained with mascara. “Mr. Park, don’t... Please...”

He halted all actions and immediately stood up from the bed. A sense of relief enveloped her, but the tears just wouldn’t cease. The fear of how far it all would have gone had he ignored her. A part of her also felt guilty because how was she supposed to face her best friend, knowing what her father had just done? She sat up on the edge of the bed, wiping her tears while Seonghwa put on his dress shirt.

“Make sure your side of my desk is cleaned out by Monday, don’t bother coming back to work,” Seonghwa’s words were harsh and heavy with consequence.

“W-what?”

“You’re fired.”

“N-no, Mr. Park, you can’t do that!” She blurted, panic setting in with every passing moment.

“Frankly, I can,” He boasted as he buttoned up his shirt. “Clearly, you don’t appreciate this opportunity that I’ve given you. God, do you know how many graduates would die to work for me?”

She stood up and slowly approached him, but nearly lost her balance, so she held on to the nearby glass table for support. “I do appreciate it, I really do. I just– I– ” She sputtered as the fear of unemployment became more potent.

“You what?”

“I– don’t fire me, please,” She begged. “Just– I’ll do whatever you want,” Her hands began undoing the buttons of his shirt and hesitantly tugged on the hem of his trousers. “It’s... Sujin... She’d never forgive me.”

“It’ll be our little secret, then. Nobody has to know, now do they?”

He wiped away her tears and dipped down to catch her lips. While his pressed firmly against hers, and his tongue moved meticulously inside her mouth, she was still apprehensive. Each time their tongues met, a tear would roll down her cheek. The guilt was just overwhelming, but the need to keep her job was stronger. She removed his dress shirt. Her fingertips were delicate, touching every inch of his carved torso, until she unzipped his trousers. He stopped her from reaching in. Instead, he removed her dress and undergarments.

Nearby was a small table, in which he bent her over, her ass brushing against his throbbing, clothed cock. Tremors meandered up her spine when her nipples met the cold feel of the table’s glass surface. She hissed. When he dropped his trousers to the floor, his cock sprung out, slapping against his stomach then grazing her skin. He was massive with a bright pink tip, very generous in both length and girth. While he stroked himself, he palmed a handful of her cheek, kneading it. A crackling sound bounced off the walls when his hand met her cheek at full force, illiciting a whimper. He spread her cheeks open, his tongue lapping up her juices. He lined himself up at her entrance. The tip alone stretched her out, and without so much as a warning, he slammed into her tight, sopping hole. Filling her right up. She lurched forward as she whined, and tears ran down her temples and onto the table.

His hands gripped her waist with efficacy, nails digging into her skin. Each thrust was slow and hard, affording him the opportunity to slap her ass as much as he wished. His pace slowly started picking up, with Murphy trying to reach back and slow him down. Instead, grabbed both her hands and pinned them to her back.

“Naughty bunny. Your body, my rules, understood?” He dictated.

“Y-yes, Mr. Park,” She moaned breathlessly.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, and began thrusting into her relentlessly. The sound of his hips snapping against her ass echoed louder than the rumbling air conditioner Her legs trembled as a trail of cum glid down her thighs. Her moans and his grunts sung together like a ballad. He moved sporadically as she grew tighter around him, her first orgasm of the night slowly crept in. His pace remained steady while she came undone all over his cock. A white ring formed around him. But he was not looking to cum just yet, no. He wanted to look her dead in the eyes as he laid claim over her entire livelihood.

As Murphy slowly descended from her high, Seonghwa hoisted her up and sat her on the table. She leaned back as he spread her legs open, holding them up with his arms. He slammed back into her drenched hole, grinding up against her. Her face glistened with sweat, as did his. They held each other’s eyes, refusing to look away. The way her breasts danced with every thrust, the smudged mascara, the rosy cheeks and nose, the disheveled hair; he appreciated the sight of this miscellany. He did that. His hand snaked around her neck, squeezing at the sides, and brought her face closer.

“I ever catch you with that punk again, I’ll fire you both. You work for me, so you do as I say, am I clear?” He growled under his breath.

“He’s out of my life,” She nodded profusely, “I promise.”

His own orgasm finally washed over him, yet he continued grinding into her. As the waves of pleasure washed over him, he held her eyes in his, her arms swung over his shoulders. They shared a deep, passionate kiss as ribbons of warm cum painted her walls. He had successfully marked his territory like he had dreamt of doing for months. They both watched as he slowly thrusted cum back into her abused core.

“So... beautiful,” She whispered as she watched him thrust in and out.

He smirked to himself, “See, that’s why you’re my favourite worker bee,” he coaxed. “I’m not done with you just yet.”

Carrying her astride, he walked over to the bed and laid her down on her back. He leaned over to reach into the bedside drawer. He opened it, only to find 2 pairs of handcuffs staring him in the eye. The glimmer of the ceiling lights danced on the silver surface, enticing and provoking him. He took them out and started prepping them for usage. In a state of delirium, Murphy still managed to make out what was in Seonghwa’s hands. She attempted to lift her head off the pillow, but he pushed her back down.

The sound of the metal locking around her wrist put her in a sudden state of panic. “Mr. Park, I don’t like this...”

He ignored her as he locked the other end around her ankle. “Mr. Park, please,” Fear was palpable in her voice, “I– I don’t like being restrained, please, don’t...”

“Shhh,” He uttered, “I’d never hurt you, bunny,” She weakly clawed at his chest, only for her freed wrist to be cuffed down. “Don’t worry, it’ll be over before you know it. Let me show you how my favourite employee really deserves to be treated.”

“Please, I’ve been so good. Not this...” She sobbed, body squirming under his weight as she felt his tip graze her aching core.

He balanced himself on his elbows as he slotted himself between her thighs, silencing her heartfelt pleas with a soft kiss, which she cried into. A desperate attempt to connect in a way he could not with sex. A low moan arose from her diaphragm when he steadily fitted himself back inside of her. He pecked her once more before burying his face into the crook of her neck, finding his rhythm as grinded into her with practiced precision. Her once distressed cries, now replaced by pleasured whimpers, landed on his ears and encouraged him to continue using her however he wished.

“Why’re you always teasing me with the way that you dress? Why’re you testing my limits?”

“Because I can...” Her voice so sultry, she proclaimed into his ear.

With a lot more speed, he thrusted faster. One hand on the headboard, the other had a firm grip on her neck while he gently pressed her into the mattress. Her cries became louder, needier. The sound of her core squelching, arousal leaked from her sopping hole, down her to ass and onto the sheets. Seonghwa’s face hovered a few inches above hers. He instructed her to open her mouth, and she gladly obliged. A sliver of spit hung from his lips, and she reached for it with her tongue, quenching a longstanding thirst.

“Mr. Park, please, faster! Faster!”

“That’s it, bunny. Daddy’s gonna fill you up real good...”

His hips bucked when he felt her clamp around him. Both his hands on the headboard, her back arched and head buried in the pillows, they were both approaching the finish line. As she was about to crest, she called out his first name, an anomaly to both. The squelching became deafly loud as she came all over him. Her body convulsed, a slow-growing pain in her hips become more evident, longer she was restrained. Meanwhile, Seonghwa welcomed his own orgasm. His cock twitched erratically inside of her, spraying his seed in every crevice of her warmth.

He collapsed on her chest, leaving trails of wet kisses on her collarbone. The taste of sweat lingered on his tongue. He decorated her neck with numerous hickeys before removing her restraints. Without a second to waste, she was out like a light, and her soft snores filled the room. He switched off all the lights in the room before laying beside her and fell into a slumber of his own.

[ . . . ]

At around 23:00, her eyes fluttered open, the room was coated in darkness with not even a sliver of moonlight to illuminate. When she turned to her side, there laid Seonghwa, hair spread all over his face, and chest rising and falling. Her throat was so dry, it felt as though somebody stuffed it with cotton. Body ached at every joint and limb. But she was particularly sore down there. Careful not wake him, she slipped out of bed. Drowsy and head throbbing, she stumbled but held onto the bedside drawer for balance. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she tiptoed around the bed and put on her clothes. She took her heels in one hand and her purse in the other, then her phone vibrated. A thread of text messages and missed phone calls.

Sujin: held up at work? [18:01]

Sujin: HEEELLLOOOOO??? [18:27]

Sujin: GIRL WHERE TF ARE YOU? ARE YOU MAD AT ME? :( [18:45]

Wooyoung: You running late? [19:15]

Wooyoung: If you didn’t wanna go out, you should’ve told me so. [19:49]

Wooyoung: You could at least explain yourself… [20:37]

Sujin: i’m getting worried. where are you? [23:48]

She continued to tiptoe to the door, sneaking glances of a sleeping Seonghwa. The door would not budge when she pulled down the handle. A cold wave blanketed her when she realised it was locked. She searched the glass table for the keys but found nothing. Seonghwa’s trousers splayed across the floor, and so she checked the pockets. Something jingled, and a sense of relief blanketed her. Her hand reached into the pocket and–

“What do you think you’re doing?” Seonghwa’s voice cut through the silence, groggy and still heavy with sleep.

Quietly removing the keys from the pocket, he dropped his trousers to the floor. “I- I, uh, need to get home. S-Sujin’s been texting…”

He got up from the bed, and stood before her, uncovered. “My daughter can take care of herself. Keys on the table, now.” She reluctantly obliged. “Good, now take off your clothes.”

As the tears loomed and ran free on her cheeks, she wished her heart would quiet down, afraid Seonghwa could hear it. She tried sorting through her emotions as she removed all of her clothes, but it was a mélange of fear, anticipation and guilt, and an unconfirmed tinge of excitement. At last, nude, he dipped down to press a kiss on her lips while his hands travelled down to grab the back of her thighs. The kiss held a salty taste from her tears. He hoisted her up and carried her to the bed. No more resistance. Instead, she succumbed to her fate. Her mind retreated in a subspace devoid of guilt, only open to pleasure brought on by obedience. Her soft moans filled the room as she relentlessly begged for him to never stop.

.

.

.

taglist babies:

@nopension

[mya-valentine]

Eclipsed by Fate

Synopsis: As Kinich and his beloved venture into the perilous Night Warden Wars, their bond is tested when a fateful sacrifice leaves him grieving. With the promise of resurrection, Kinich faces two agonizing days without her, haunted by her absence. When the moment of reunion arrives, he embraces her once more, determined never to let go.

The night before the Night Warden Wars had arrived, and Kinich sat quietly beside you, his golden eyes staring off into the flickering flames of the campfire. You both knew what was coming—the battle in the Night Kingdom against the dark forces, an ever-growing threat to Natlan. It was your first time going into such a dangerous fight, and though Kinich was one of the most capable warriors of the Sun, his usual confidence had faltered.

His hand tightened around yours, his voice low and tinged with worry. “I don’t like this… You shouldn’t be coming. It’s not safe.”

You smiled softly, gently placing your hand on his cheek, pulling him out of his trance. “Kinich, I’ll be fine. We’ve trained for this. I’ve trained for this. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

He let out a heavy sigh, his brows furrowing. “It’s different out there. You don’t know what it’s like in the Night Kingdom, the dangers lurking in the shadows.” His grip on your hand tightened even more. “I’m not sure I can focus on the fight if I’m worrying about you the whole time.”

You shifted closer, looking into his eyes with determination. “Then trust me, Kinich. Trust that I’ll fight just as hard as you, that we’ll fight together.”

His gaze softened as he leaned into your touch. “I do trust you. I just—” He paused, eyes flickering with fear. “I can’t lose you.”

You silenced him with a kiss, your lips brushing against his gently. “You won’t,” you whispered against him. “We’ll get through this.”

---

When the time came, the Night Kingdom was a terrifying sight. The landscape was cloaked in darkness, a heavy mist swirling around, concealing the enemy forces. The air was thick with tension as the champions of Natlan prepared for battle.

Kinich stood tall beside you, his armor gleaming despite the night. His weapon was gripped tightly in his hand, his focus unwavering—but you could sense the unease rolling off him in waves.

The battle began with a ferocious cry. Shadowy creatures of the Night Kingdom poured from the darkness, their forms twisted and otherworldly. You fought alongside Kinich, your heart pounding in your chest as you deflected attacks and struck down enemies with precision. The two of you moved in perfect sync, a seamless partnership honed over countless training sessions.

For hours, the fight raged on. Victory seemed within reach, and despite the exhaustion weighing on your muscles, you felt a sense of relief as the enemy forces began to thin. The Natlan warriors had fought valiantly, and there were no major casualties—everything seemed to be going as planned.

But as you and Kinich regrouped with the others, a dark figure emerged from the shadows, moving faster than you could react. An Abyss Herald, towering and powerful, its eyes glowing with malevolent energy. It moved directly toward Kinich, its weapon raised.

Your heart lurched in your chest. Without thinking, you threw yourself at him, pushing him out of the way just as the Abyss Herald struck. The impact of the blow tore through your body, searing pain shooting through you as you collapsed to the ground.

“No!” Kinich’s voice was filled with panic as he scrambled to you, cradling you in his arms. His hands were shaking as they pressed against your wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. “Stay with me! Please, stay with me!”

Your vision blurred as you looked up at him, his face contorted in anguish. You reached up, weakly touching his cheek. “I’m sorry… I had to…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Don’t you dare apologize!” Kinich’s voice cracked, his tears spilling onto your skin. “I need you! You can’t leave me!”

Your strength was fading fast, your body growing colder as you slipped into unconsciousness. The last thing you saw was Kinich’s tear-filled eyes, and the last thing you heard was his broken voice calling your name.

When you died in his arms, Kinich’s world shattered. He was barely aware of Chasca’s hand gripping his arm, pulling him away as the others urged him to retreat. Everything was a blur—the sounds of battle fading into the background as his mind screamed for you.

Chasca dragged him back toward the exit, her expression somber but firm. “Kinich, we have to go. We can’t stay here.”

He barely registered her words, his gaze fixed on the spot where your body had lain, his heart in pieces. Everything felt wrong, hollow. How could this have happened? How could he have let this happen?

“They’ll bring her back,” Chasca reminded him as they fled. “Two days, Kinich. The Ode of Resurrection. She’ll be back.”

But two days felt like an eternity.

---

Kinich spent the next two days in a daze. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Every moment without you felt like agony, his mind replaying the image of your death over and over again. Ajaw, ever the tormentor, took full advantage of Kinich’s despair, mocking him relentlessly.

“Look at you,” Ajaw sneered one day. “Pathetic. So lost without her. How’s it feel, knowing you couldn’t protect her?”

Kinich’s hands clenched into fists, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. He just wanted the two days to be over. He just wanted you back.

---

The ceremony at the Ode of Resurrection was a solemn affair, the air thick with magic as the flames roared to life. Kinich stood at the front, his heart pounding in his chest as the flames danced higher, swirling with power.

And then, from the flames, you emerged.

Kinich didn’t wait. The moment he saw you, he rushed forward, tackling you into a hug, holding you as tightly as he could as if he were afraid you’d disappear again.

“You’re back,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re really back.”

Ajaw’s voice chimed in from the side, his tone laced with mockery. “Oh, you should’ve seen him while you were gone. So pathetic. Depressed. Couldn’t do anything without you.”

Kinich didn’t even acknowledge him. His focus was solely on you, his hands cupping your face as he gazed at you with tears in his eyes. “I missed you so much,” he whispered, his lips trembling. “I thought I lost you.”

You smiled softly, your hands resting on his as you leaned into his touch. “I’m here now, Kinich.”

Without another word, he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of his love and relief into it. The world around you faded away, and for that moment, it was just the two of you—together again.

And this time, he wasn’t letting go.

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