#i just bound it up Tightly basically as tightly as i could

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

i am literally so scared to take this bandage off im scared i think i misremember it as worse than it is but im scared i *don't*

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ the last jewel

˚ · . sanemi shinazugawa x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ baby trapping (?), breeding, impregnation, choking, dubcon

call me thunder man when you can't see my eyes to who oppose me, you can die now

sanemi had a dilemma.

he never thought it would happen in his lifetime, but it did. he fell in love. he fell in love with you, a strong and beautiful woman. he's grateful to have you, though now he's come of a dilemma.

throughout his life, he's come across unfortunate events and despair, loosing those who he loves most. it's basic knowledge that the enivronment you had as a child shapes who you are as an adult, it was bound for sanemi to become such a ferocious and off-putting man when he grew up.

yet, out of all the people in the world, you chose him. you saw through his deep scars and empty eyes that he was much more than a killing machine.

he didn't know how to accept it. he tried pushing you away, tried scaring you off, but you were just so damn stupid and persistent, following him around like a naive puppy.

time went so fast around those months, he can't even remember how he wound up in this position.

this delicate position, where he's trembling underneath your touch. your hands are like fire, warming up his skin with every interaction. his eyelashes flutter at the way goosebumps rise on his pale skin, a hot wave rising up his spine.

his hand reaches for your other grips at the sheets below you, encasing it with his much larger ones. his nose rests in the crook of your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent, smelling of desperation and sex.

"ugh." he groans, his hips rolling deeply into the soft flesh of your ass. he's glad you can't see his face right now, the brat you are would never let him live without teasing him. his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes clenched shut, teeth nipping on his own flushed lips to prevent himself from sounding like some desperate boy.

"you feel so good.." he mumbles into your ear, his hand coming up to wrap around your delicate neck. sanemi sucks and bites at the flesh of your shoulder, your blood attacking his tastebuds. he now knows why demons eat humans, afterall, you taste pretty damn good.

"auhh, 'nemi–more—" you cry out, his cock teasing at your sweet spot. "yeah? like that? you sound like such a pretty slut," sanemi groans out, detaching from your neck and sitting upright to watch the way your even prettier pussy grips onto his cock.

he inhales sharply when he feels his cock twitch when your tight walls consulve around him so tightly it has him struggling to breathe. sanemi tries his best to fuck you through your orgasm, tries his best to not cum in that addictive pussy of yours.

he should though, now that he thinks of it.

before he thinks more about it, his strong arms wrap around your torso, lifting you up to where your back meets his chest. "'nemi—" you whine out, throwing back your head onto his shoulder. sanemi brings up a callosed hand up to your breast, groping you so roughly, pinching at your sensitive buds.

"there's something i need to talk to you about," sanemi says, his tone uncharacteristically stern. "h-huh?" you dumbly say, back arching away from his abdomen. "in the middle o-of-of sex?" you stutter out, barely able to get a coherent sentence out.

god you can't even think. you're so cute. sanemi cups at your jaw, directing your face towards his so he could shove his tongue down your throat before he's pulling away once more an suddenly pulling out his cock from your dripping pussy.

"sanemi?" you cry out, tears dropping down from your waterline at the feeling of being so empty. though, you aren't empty for long as sanemi flips you over onto your back and roughly forces his fat cock back into your small cunt.

the sudden intrusion has you seeing stars, nearly blacking out from the intense feeling of being stuffed full.

"you need to drop of out the demon slayer corps." sanemi says, his purple eyes watching through his long eyelashes down at you. your own eyes stare directly at his, widened with confusion. "w-what? why?" you ask, so confused and shocked at you try to shuffle out of sanemi's grasp.

his hands grab at your hips, his own angling for that sensitive spot within you to keep you weak.

he had his hips grinding against yours, too painfully slow in order to get you to cum again, but also too painfully deep to stop you from not feeling anything.

"you need to drop out from the demon slayer corps–from being a hashira, it's too dangerous." sanemi says once more. "a-and? do you not think i'm strong enough? i'm literally a hashira, just like you."

yes, you are a hashira, just like him. but even the strongest hashira die, it's too much of a risk. you've had him wrapped around his finger, he's too attached to let you go now. he just won't have it. he won't let another person in his life die anymore, especially not you.

there's a couple seconds as he stares down at you with a blank face, his hips stilled away from yours. his sudden quietness scares you, "sanemi?"

before another second could pass, his hips are pushing against yours and his cock tip is flush against your cervix. your mouth opens up in a silent scream, hand coming up to hide the way your eyes roll to the back of your heah.

sanemi's free hand comes to grip at your jaw, squishing your cheeks together to form a pitiful pout to get your attention.

sanemi feels a switch inside of him flip, veins in his neck protruding, jaw clenching tightly. he's not asking. he's demanding. "no, y/n. the demon slayer corps doesn't need a woman who's already knocked up."

a gutteral groan leaves your throat at his words, fat tears being swiped away from his fingers. you can barely put two and two together at this point, only knowing the words knocked up.

"sh-shanemi.." you drool, hand coming up to grip at his wrist. "it's okay. you'll make a good mommy. you'll be able to protect our babies with how strong you a-are—fuck, i'm gonna c-cum in you–" sanemi groans out, his hips loosing rhythm as he comes closer and closer to his orgasm.

sanemi can barely hold himself up as he teeters over his orgasm, his mouth salivating of getting his sweet little girlfriend knocked up with his babies. "i'm cummin', i'm cumming in your pretty pussy—" he cries out before his hands fly down to grip at the sheets, bracing himself as a wave of intense pleasure washes over him.

his cock splurts out a fat load of seed inside your poor pussy, his tip flush with your cervix to ensure all of his cum reaches your fertile womb.

sanemi pants once his orgasm settles down, slowly sitting himself up to see the masterpiece he's created. he pulls his cock out of you, growing hard once more he sees the state you are in, covered in sweat and dried cum, passed out from how good he fucked you.

you may not see it, but he does. this is the only way he can get you to drop out, being a mommy to his children. you can't really argue against this, after all, you signed up for his antics when you chose him.

please repost with tags and leave a like.

[incognit0slut]

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

This isn’t a love story. This isn’t a fairytale. This is about a woman bent on setting the world on fire and the FBI agent assigned to her case, drawn to the very flame she ignites.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Unsub!Reader

Warnings: (18+) Typical CM violence, mentions of sexual assault and trauma, implied sex, fire/arson, and this is basically angst with no happy ending

A/n: For once, I am writing outside my comfort zone. This is heavily based on John Mayer’s song with the same title, Female Rage, and Megan Kane (she did nothing wrong!). Constructive criticism is welcome since I rarely write angst, but please be nice, it's my birthday🥺 (yes my birthday appreciation post is heartbreaking)

You wanted the world to burn.

You wanted to watch the ashes drift through the air. You wanted to smell the acid scent of smoke. You wanted to feel the heat envelop you, to wrap your body like a suffocating blanket. Because simply sitting in silence wasn’t enough for the rage that consumed you, the smoldering anger that craved the sound of the world cracking and crumbling under the force of your wrath.

You craved the chaos, but the man lying defeated before you was enough for now. His eyes, wide with horror, stared up at you—the look of a man who knew these were his final moments. He pleaded, his voice cracking in desperation, his hands bound tightly behind his back as you stood there, unfazed.

Please.

I have a family. Think of my children.

Just let me go—I'll disappear, you'll never have to see me again.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? How a man could beg for mercy, could invoke the sanctity of family only when facing his own end. How a man could think that running away could solve everything, believing that his disappearance would erase the past and the suffering he caused.

No, that was a choice you didn’t have. The luxury of forgetting, of escaping the shadows that clung to your every step. Not only was his pleading in vain, it was insulting, as if the depth of his misdeeds could be washed away by mere absence. You wanted him gone. You wanted him dead.

So you gave him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. Your expression was serene, almost angelic, but it belied the reality of your intentions as your heels echoed through the empty warehouse, a jug of gasoline in hand.

He screamed. Your smile widened. It was useless—no other soul was near enough to hear his cries, too far away to save him. His desperation filled the empty space once again as you poured the gasoline around him, drenching him in its sharp, pungent scent.

Then you took a step back, your hand reaching for the lighter in your pocket. There was a moment of hesitation as you watched him struggle. Could you really do this? Could you cross this final line?

But then the memories surged forward, vivid and painful. He was one of them, one of the people who had taken advantage of your innocence when you were young and naive, who had shattered your trust and left you to pick up the pieces alone, leaving scars that never truly healed.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

Your fingers tightened around the lighter. What a foolish man, who was he to think that a forced apology could undo the damage? With a steady hand, you flicked the lighter, the flame springing to life. His apologies continued, increasingly frantic, but they were nothing more than the desperate noise of a man who had run out of options, out of time.

You threw the lighter. The small flame sailed through the air, landing amidst the gasoline-soaked ground with a burst of fire. The flame caught instantly, erupting into a roaring blaze that engulfed him in a matter of seconds, drowning out his piercing scream.

You continued to watch his body burn, and perhaps for the very first time in your life, you felt a terrifying peace.

~*~

“This is the third body in a week,” Derek mentioned, stepping into the old factory as he slipped his sunglasses on top of his head, scanning the scene before him. It was disturbing. The stench of burnt flesh hung heavy in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood.

Spencer looked up from where he was crouched near what was left of the victim. “It’s getting more deliberate,” he observed. “The Unsub is trying to send a message.”

Derek moved closer, carefully stepping over a piece of evidence marked by the forensic team. “What are you thinking?”

He slowly stood up, his eyes assessing the place. There were actually a lot of things on his mind, and one of them being how this third victim seemed more calculated, more precise than the others. It was a stark contrast to the first victim, whose remains were found in a haphazard, chaotic state in that old warehouse.

But this one… everything was meticulously arranged, from the positioning of the body to the burn patterns that radiated outwards in a controlled manner. The Unsub was trying to perfect their methods in a short amount of time, and as much as Spencer hated to admit it, it was almost impressive.

“They want attention,” Spencer finally said, breaking the silence as he mulled over the crime scene. “They’re not just doing this for the sake of it; they’re communicating. Whatever message they’re trying to send, it’s getting closer with each victim.”

“You think they’re trying to tell us something?”

“No, I don’t think it’s aimed at us.” Spencer bit his bottom lip, his eyes narrowing in thought. “They’re trying to make a statement.”

“Like a public declaration?”

“Could be,” Spencer acknowledged, stepping back to view the scene from a different angle. “Or it could be a form of protest or revenge.”

“Burning people for revenge,” Derek mused, crossing his arms. “Now that’s a hell of a way to get a point across.”

“It’s deeply symbolic. Fire consumes everything, leaving nothing but ash. It’s final.” He looked up, his eyes meeting Derek’s. “Whoever is doing this is not just angry, they’re trying to erase their victims from existence.”

“Well, they’re doing a pretty good job at it, we haven’t identified any of them yet.”

Spencer frowned, his gaze dropping back to the scene in front of him. Identifying the first two victims had been nearly impossible due to the extent of the burns. The flames had consumed everything, leaving behind little more than brittle bones and ash. Dental records and DNA tests had been their only hope, and even those couldn’t identify the victims.

He continued to study the body, looking for anything that could help them. The burns were severe, almost total, but then something caught his eye. A faint mark, barely visible under the scorched skin. He leaned in closer, squinting to make out the details. There, peeking out from the blackened flesh on the victim’s forearm, partially obscured by the burns, was a small tattoo.

“I think we might have something,” he said, pointing to the mark.

Derek leaned in, his eyes widening slightly. “That looks like a tattoo.”

“You think we can get this to the lab?”

“We can,” Derek replied as he took out his phone and took a quick photo of it. “But we also have Garcia.”

Spencer watched as Derek quickly navigated through his contacts, his fingers moving with practiced ease. He tapped the screen, putting the phone close to his ear. It didn’t take long for the call to connect, and almost immediately, a familiar voice filled the brief silence through the speaker.

“I knew you couldn’t go a day without me,” Penelope’s unmistakable cheerful voice greeted him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this delightful interruption?”

Derek couldn’t help but crack a slight smile. “Garcia, we need your magic on a photo. There’s a partial tattoo on our latest victim, and we need to know if it matches anyone in the system.”

“Send it over and I’ll sprinkle some of my digital pixie dust on it.”

Derek attached the photo to a message and sent it directly to her. “It’s on its way.”

“Got it,” Penelope replied, her fingers already flying across her keyboard on the other end. “Okay, this might take a while, but I do have more information on our first victim, or I guess you can say, I have all the information that you need.”

“Our first John Doe is identified?”

“Rick Sullivan,” she confirmed. “He was reported missing a week ago by his wife. Turns out he has a bit of a past—multiple arrests for minor offenses, but nothing that would usually make him a target for this kind of violence.”

Spencer leaned closer to Derek’s phone. “Does he have any known associates or enemies that stand out?”

“Not on record,” Penelope said, her voice slightly muffled as she sifted through more files. “But listen to this, his bank transactions show some pretty hefty sums being spent regularly. Guess where most of it is going?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

"To an exclusive strip club on the east side of town called The Velvet Curtain,” she revealed. “Seems our Mr. Sullivan was quite the regular spender there.”

Derek smiled, shaking his head slightly. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Not nearly enough,” she replied with a playful lilt in her voice. “Keep the compliments coming and maybe I’ll dig up even more dirt for you.”

“We’ll need all the dirt we can get. Thanks, Garcia.”

“Always a pleasure, gentlemen. I’ll keep you updated if I find anything else,” she said before ending the call.

Derek turned to Spencer as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Ready to see some strippers, Pretty Boy?”

Spencer glanced back at the charred remains. He’d seen too many bodies, too much senseless violence. There was nothing left that could shake him—not even the neon lights and dark corners of a strip club, or even the thought of being in a room surrounded by half-naked women. He could handle that. He could definitely handle that.

With a slight nod aimed at Derek, he followed him out of the building.

~*~

“Scarlett!” A voice rang through the dressing room. “You’re up in five!”

You swiped the red lipstick across your lips one last time, perfecting the bold arch that had become your signature look as your eyes swept over your reflection, eying the thin straps of your costume. The fabric was a deep, seductive red, almost the color of freshly drawn blood, and barely covered your skin. The material was sheer and see-through, leaving little to the imagination, something you preferred. Because the more skin you showed, the more you felt in control.

This was your armor, the persona you donned to hide the secrets buried beneath your glamorous exterior. As Scarlett, you were a siren. Untouchable. You had power and control, something your life outside these walls lacked.

“Scarlett!”

“I’m coming!” You snapped, capping the lipstick and placing it back in your makeup bag. You stood up, smoothing down your outfit, and made your way to the stage entrance.

The stage coordinator eyed you up and down. “No props for today?”

You shook your head, giving a confident smile. “Not today. I can manage without them.”

He nodded approvingly, moving to the side. “Alright, it's your cue."

You brushed past him and headed down the dimly lit corridor leading to the stage, the familiar rush of adrenaline surging through you. Taking one last deep breath, you finally stepped into the glow of the spotlight. The crowd's attention shifted to you, and you felt the power you had grown accustomed to, the control you desperately craved. The music pulsed through the air as you sauntered toward the pole at center stage.

You started to move.

Your fingers around the cold metal, and your body naturally found the beat as you began to dance seductively, letting the red fabric of your costume shimmer under the lights. A flirtatious smile played on your lips as you glanced around the room, locking eyes with a few patrons who watched. You slid down the pole, bending your knees and arching your back gracefully, biting back a smile as you heard the cheers and whistles from the crowd.

You took in the familiar faces and the usual gazes of admiration and desire, from the sleazy grins of regulars to the guilty looks of married men stealing away from home. But then, two men caught your attention, standing out starkly against the backdrop of the usual patrons.

One of them exuded confidence, his gaze steady and assessing as he watched your performance. The other, however, seemed out of place, his eyes darting around the room awkwardly. At first, he appeared uneasy, shifting uncomfortably on his feet and avoiding direct eye contact. But as you moved, dancing with the pole and letting your body sway to the rhythm, his gaze gradually settled on you. 

You had never seen him before. He was unexpectedly handsome, with soft curls that danced along the edges of his face and soft features that made him beautiful, almost angelic. But there was something more about him that intrigued you. Maybe it was the way he seemed to blend in with the shadows, making him nearly invisible among the brasher, more excited crowd. His presence was so out of place and yet so focused on you that it spurred you on. 

With a teasing smile, you tugged at the thin strap of your top, playing with it as you danced. His eyes followed the movement, his breath catching slightly as you slowly slid the strap down your shoulder. The fabric slipped further, revealing more of your skin as you twirled around the pole. 

You then arched your back and bent low, the thin strap finally gave way, allowing your top to slide down your body, exposing your perky breasts to the crowd. His eyes widened slightly, but he couldn't look away. Neither could you. For a moment, it was just the two of you, locked in a silent exchange as the cheers and applause became a distant hum in the background.

You could see the conflict in his eyes—part fascination, part restraint—and it only made you bolder. You slipped the last piece of fabric down your legs, and with each sway of your hips, you drew him deeper into your world, determined to leave a mark on his memory.

~*~

“Just talked to the club owner,” Derek mentioned as he walked over to where Spencer stood, hiding in the corner of the room. “He gave us permission to question the dancers.”

Spencer nodded, but didn’t say anything. Derek raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… fine.”

Derek gave him a knowing look. “Your first time being at a place like this?”

Spencer’s gaze lingered on the stage. That would be a good excuse for why he was acting this way, but it wasn’t the truth. He grew up in Las Vegas, after all. Even though he rarely found himself in these types of scenes, he knew what went behind the walls. He was aware of what happened inside clubs, the performers, and the whole spectrum of human behavior. But he had never seen someone so… mesmerizing.

His mind was still processing the way you moved, the way you commanded the room with such effortless confidence. The way you shamelessly captivated everyone’s attention, including his.

No, it wasn’t the setting that threw him off—it was you.

“Reid?”

Spencer cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m here,” he managed, snapping back to the present. “So the dancers?”

Derek nodded, sensing Spencer’s momentary distraction but choosing not to comment.

“Yeah, we need to start talking to them. With these many dancers, I think it’s better we split up.” His eyes scanned the room. “You take the bar out here, and I’ll handle the lounge area. If any of them seem to know more or are hesitant to talk in front of others, we can bring them aside for a more private conversation.”

“Got it,” Spencer agreed. He straightened his tie and took a deep breath as he made his way directly to the bar, nodding politely to the bartender before turning to address the group of dancers gathered nearby.

“Excuse me, uh, hi there,” he greeted, showing them his badge. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI. I’d appreciate it if I could ask you a few questions.”

The dancers exchanged glances as Spencer cleared his throat, trying to appear composed. One of them, a tall woman with striking pink hair, stepped forward. “What do you need to know, Handsome?”

Spencer felt a flush creep up his neck, momentarily flustered by the directness. “Have any of you noticed anything unusual or seen anyone acting suspiciously in the past few weeks?”

The pink-haired woman looked him up and down, taking in his crisp suit and tie with a playful smile. “Well, the only unusual thing I’ve seen lately is a handsome FBI agent in a place like this.”

Her comment drew a few chuckles from the group, and Spencer felt a wave of awkwardness wash over him. He usually could handle a bit of teasing—he’d even interviewed sex workers who blatantly flirted with him before—but being surrounded by half-naked women, one of whom was actually topless, was making him feel distinctly out of place. His usual confidence was slipping away, replaced by a deep, uncomfortable blush.

Before he could respond, another dancer, this one with blue hair, joined in the teasing. “Aww, look at him blushing. Aren’t you just adorable?”

Spencer cleared his throat, trying to refocus. “I, uh, appreciate your… observations. But really, any information about unusual behavior could be very helpful.”

One of them, with a mischievous glint in her eye, leaned closer and asked in a flirty tone, “Would you like to find a private room for questioning, Doctor?”

His eyes widened. “W-What? No, no, I—”

“Ladies.”

Spencer turned around, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw you standing close to him, your sweet fragrance enveloping him. His heartbeat quickened, and he found it hard not to stare. You had changed from your performance attire into something slightly less revealing but no less captivating that Spencer had to remind himself to blink.

“Stop teasing the poor guy,” you said, addressing the dancers with a slight smirk.

“We were just being nice,” one of them protested, feigning innocence.

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, let’s give him some space.”

The rest of the dancers giggled, picking up their drinks and retreating to another part of the club. You watched them leave before turning back to Spencer and gracefully took a seat on a stool where one of them had been.

“So,” you began, crossing one leg over the other, and Spencer made a conscious effort not to focus on how the fabric rode up your thighs. “I can’t help but overhear you’re with the FBI. I’m Scarlett.”

He stared at your outstretched hand but made no effort to take it. “Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Ah,” you said, retracting your hand and placing it on your lap. “You’re that type of guy.”

“What do you mean?”

You tilted your head slightly, a wry smile playing on your lips. “You know, the type who might think less of this kind of job, of people who work in places like this."

Spencer shook his head quickly. “No, it’s not that. I grew up in Las Vegas, places like this don't surprise me. It's just that—l don't do handshakes. Personal preference, not a judgment."

You raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Well, studies show that handshakes transfer a significant amount of pathogens. It’s actually safer to kiss someone than to shake their hand.”

An amused smile played on your lips. “Is that your way of trying to kiss me, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer’s eyes widened, and a flush crept up his neck. “Uh, no, that’s not what I meant at all,” he stammered. “I just meant, scientifically speaking, it’s… safer.”

“Of course.” You chuckled, leaning back slightly. “So what brings the FBI here?”

Spencer cleared his throat. “We’re here to gather information about one of your customers.”

“Who?”

“Do you know anyone by the name Rick Sullivan?”

“Know him? He practically lives at the end of the bar some nights.” Your eyes swept over the empty seat where Rick usually occupied. “Although he hasn’t come here in a while, his wife probably decided to put her foot down."

“Do you remember anything unusual about his behavior or if he mentioned anything out of the ordinary recently?”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged. “He was always pretty quiet. But now that you mention it, a few weeks ago, he seemed more on edge than usual. Kept looking over his shoulder like he was expecting someone.”

“Did he ever talk to anyone in particular, or did anyone strange approach him?”

You shook your head. “Not that I noticed. But then again, it gets pretty busy here. Hard to keep track of every interaction.”

Spencer nodded at the information. “Is there anyone who seemed particularly close with him here?”

“I don’t think so. He’s friendly with some of the regulars, but no one stood out. He mostly keeps to himself unless he’s buying drinks for the dancers.” You watched him, noticing the way his brow furrowed slightly in thought and you couldn’t help but ask, “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but don’t you have to write all this down?”

Spencer glanced at you, a small smile forming on his lips. "I have a good memory. I'll remember everything you've told me."

"Really? Do you have a photographic memory or something?"

"Eidetic, actually.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s impressive. So basically you’ll remember anything?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes, I can recall detailed images and information with high precision.”

“Alright, I want you to remember this then,” you said, leaning in slightly. You recited a series of numbers, your voice smooth and confident.

He looked genuinely confused. “What’s that?”

“My number.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Oh.”

“There’s a rule against sharing personal information while working here,” you explained, leaning in a bit closer, “But you can save it under Y/N. That’s my real name.”

Spencer found himself momentarily mesmerized by your proximity, the scent of your perfume, and the intensity of your gaze. He blinked, trying to maintain his composure.

“Y/N,” he repeated softly, as if committing it to memory.

You smiled. “Exactly. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t,” he assured you as you slipped off the stool and the space between you momentarily vanished. For a brief, unexpected second, your body lightly pressed against his. The contact was fleeting but there was an unspoken tension that seemed to pause the noise around you.

The closeness brought a rush of warmth, and your eyes locked with his. “Do you like jazz music, Dr. Reid?”

He frowned, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. “Um, I don’t really listen to music.”

“Well, that’s a pity,” you replied with a playful smile. “There’s a great spot not too far from here. They have live bands on the weekends.”

“What… what are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to ask you out on a date.”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly as he processed your words. “Oh,” he stammered, clearly taken aback by your boldness. He hesitated, his mind racing to catch up with the situation. “I, uh, I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

“Because you’re an FBI agent and I’m a stripper?”

He swallowed, looking a bit flustered. “It’s not that. It’s just… there are boundaries, and I’m supposed to remain professional.”

“Ah, I see. But if you decide to change your mind…” You moved closer, reaching out to fix his crooked tie, your fingers brushing lightly against the fabric. “I’ll be at the Blue Moon on Saturday around 9 p.m., sitting at the bar in a red dress with a drink in my hand.”

Spencer’s breath hitched slightly as he tensed but didn’t pull away, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“I hope you do, Dr. Reid.” You took a step back, your hand lingering for a moment before you let go of his tie. “You know where to find me.”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing there as he watched you blend into the crowd, conflicted and unexpectedly aroused.

~*~

You weren’t sure what you were trying to do. Asking an FBI agent out on a date went against every rule you had set for yourself. You were supposed to keep your distance, to remain anonymous and untouchable. It was safer that way, for both you and your secrets. Yet, here you were, sipping your drink as you waited for a man who represented everything you should be avoiding.

A part of you questioned your sanity. What was it about him that made you break your own rules? It was reckless, foolish even. Getting involved with someone like Spencer Reid could only complicate things.

But there was something about him. Maybe it was the curiosity in his eyes, the way he seemed both out of place and perfectly composed at the same time. Or perhaps it was the way he treated you with a respect and sincerity that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Whatever it was, it had been enough to make you take this risk.

But now, as you sat by the bar alone an hour later, you couldn’t help but wonder if it had all been a mistake. The minutes had ticked by slowly, and you tried to ignore the gnawing feeling that maybe you had misjudged him. Maybe he decided it wasn’t worth the trouble, and maybe that was for the best.

Just as you were about to give up and leave, the door to your side opened. You turned, not daring to hope, and there he was—looking slightly disheveled and out of breath, but undeniably there with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you, and a small, relieved smile crossed his face.

“Hi,” he said, a bit breathless. “I’m sorry I’m late, I got held up at work and I didn’t want to come empty handed, so…”

Your eyes drifted towards the simple bouquet of white lilies in his hand. “Are those for me?”

Spencer nodded, extending the flowers towards you. “Yes, they are,” he replied. “I didn’t know what you’d like, and I thought lilies are a safe choice because they’re elegant and not too overwhelming, but then I started thinking maybe roses would have been better, but then roses can be a bit too—”

You cut him off with a warm smile, gently taking the bouquet from him. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”

He let out a small sigh of relief. “I’m glad you like them.”

You placed the lilies on the bar and gestured to the seat beside you. “Come here, you look like you just ran a marathon.”

“It felt like it,” he admitted, taking the seat right next to you. “I really didn’t want to be late.”

“You’re here now, that’s what matters.” You slightly leaned back and studied him. “I’m actually surprised you changed your mind.”

Spencer glanced at you. “I… I guess I realized I didn’t want to miss the chance to get to know you.”

“Yeah?” You tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “What do you want to know about me?”

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, actually. He wanted to know your story, why you chose your job, and who you were beneath this confident exterior. But that was all too much for a first date. Glancing around the room, he decided to start with something simpler and said, “Start with how you know this place.”

You smiled, looking around the familiar setting. “I found it a few years ago. I was walking aimlessly down the road one night after work and stumbled this place. It’s become my little escape since then.”

“I can see why." His eyes drifted towards the band playing live music and the few patrons mesmerized by the soft tune. "It’s definitely got a charm to it.”

You leaned in slightly. “Do you have any secret escapes?”

He looked back at you. “Not really. My escapes aren’t quite as charming. Mostly books and chess. They're not exactly thrilling.”

“Books and chess?” you asked, tapping your finger on the bar. “You really are a nerd.”

“I prefer to think of myself as a man of knowledge,” he replied with a shy yet proud smile.

“Well, intelligence is attractive, and not only that, it’s also very sexy." You laughed when you noticed him slightly squirming. “Do you have any other hidden talents I should know about?”

He tilted his head, thinking for a moment. “I’m actually pretty good at magic tricks. It’s something I picked up as a kid.”

“Now that’s a talent I didn’t expect,” you observed, your eyes lighting up. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“I’d be happy to,” he replied enthusiastically. “What about you? What’s your hidden talent?”

You grinned. “I can make a pretty mean lasagna. And I’m good at dancing, but you might have already guessed that.”

Spencer suddenly felt the warmth spreading along his face as he remembered your performance on stage the other day. His mind flashed back to the way you moved with such confidence, the undeniable sex appeal you exuded effortlessly, and he could feel his cheeks heating up.

“Yeah, I, uh, definitely noticed,” he admitted.

“I hope that means you were impressed.”

Spencer nodded, still a bit flustered but managing a smile. “Very impressed.”

“Why, thank you,” you noted, leaning closer to him. “How about you? Do you dance, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly at the question. “I’m not nearly as skilled as you are,” he confessed. “My dance moves are more… theoretical. More of an exercise in coordination than something you’d want to see in action.”

The image of this authority figure awkwardly dancing in his suit made you smile.

“Now this I need to see.” Sliding off the stool, you extended your hand towards him. “Dance with me.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely,” you replied. “Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

You waited, half-expecting him to decline considering he didn’t even want to shake your hand the last time you saw him. But then, to your surprise, he took a deep breath and placed his hand in yours.

You couldn’t help but smile as he stood up and let you lead him to a small open space near the bar, slipping in between other couples swaying to the music as the band played a lively, upbeat tune.

“Okay, put your hand here,” you instructed, guiding his hand to rest lightly on your waist. You took his other hand in yours and began to sway gently to the rhythm, leading him in a basic two-step.

Spencer tried to follow, his movements slightly awkward at first. “I’m not sure I’m doing this right.”

“You’re doing fine,” you reassured him, smiling up at him. “Just trust your instinct.”

“My instinct is to find the nearest exit door.”

“No escaping tonight. You’re stuck with me,” you teased, your other hand holding onto his shoulder. “Besides, I think you’re doing pretty well for someone who claims to be bad at dancing.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, his confidence growing slightly. “You think so?”

“Yep,” you replied, giving him a grin. “In fact, I’d say you’re almost a natural.”

“Almost?” he echoed, a teasing note in his voice. “What do I need to do to earn the proper title?”

“Maybe a spin?” You suggested, already positioning yourself lightly. With an encouraging nod, you prompted him, and he took the cue, lifting his arm and carefully guiding you into a smooth spin under his hold. You twirled gracefully and came back into his arms, beaming up at him.

“How was that?” He asked.

“Pretty impressive.”

He smiled, and a warmth spread through you, a sense of happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. It was wrong, you knew that. You knew you were stepping into dangerous territory, blurring lines that should remain clear. But at that moment, all those concerns seemed distant and unimportant, especially when the music suddenly turned slower.

The soft, sultry notes of a saxophone filled the air as you moved closer to him, gently grabbing his hands before guiding them to rest behind your back.

“Now this,” you began, moving your arms around his neck. “Is how you dance to a slow song.”

Spencer smiled, a genuine, soft expression that made his whole features light up. He pulled you gently against his chest. “I think I prefer this type of dance better.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt. “Me too.”

You felt a hand press gently on your lower back, drawing you even closer as you took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. He smelled of fresh soap and something sweet, like vanilla or honey—a combination that you could easily find yourself getting addicted to.

The thought surprised you. For someone who loathed men, who had built a life around a cold, calculated revenge against them, you found Spencer oddly comforting. It was unsettling how natural it felt to be this close to him, how safe he made you feel.

You could almost laugh at the irony. Here you were, a woman fueled by a desire for vengeance, finding solace in the arms of a man. It was reckless. Dangerous. You needed to keep your head in the game. Allowing yourself to get distracted, to feel these warm, tender emotions, was a risk you couldn’t afford.

But as you pressed your face closer to the crook of his neck, it became increasingly difficult to push him away. You knew you had to be cautious. You knew you needed to keep your head clear, your focus sharp, and you promised yourself that you would.

But not now. Not when his touch made you feel something you hadn’t felt in years. For now, you allowed yourself to surrender to the moment, to the warmth of his embrace, to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against yours, and to the fleeting sense of peace that felt so foreign yet so desperately needed.

~*~

Spencer wasn’t sure what he was trying to do. He found himself awkwardly moving close to you, then pulling back, reaching out as if to take your hand, then stopping himself. The hesitation gnawed at him, torn between wanting to hold your hand and maintaining a respectful distance.

Was it too soon? Was there a rule about holding hands on the first date?

He mentally sifted through his limited experiences, trying to recall any useful advice or guidelines. But all he could think about was how natural it had felt to dance with you, to be close to you. He glanced over, catching the soft glow of the streetlights across your face. You looked serene, content, and he wished he could just follow his instincts without second-guessing every move.

“What?” You asked without looking at him. “Why are you staring at me?

He quickly directed his gaze away from you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You turned to him with a small, amused smile. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. I was just curious.”

He hesitated as you both continued to walk, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps blending with the quiet night. Finally, he decided to be honest. “I’ve been trying to figure out the right moment. I guess I’m not very good with this sort of thing.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I wanted to hold your hand,” he blurted, his face flushing slightly. “But I wasn’t sure if it was too soon. I didn’t want to seem too forward or make you uncomfortable. I’m sure there’s a whole rule to this that I don’t know about, and I’ve been overthinking it the entire walk.”

You chuckled softly. “Spencer, you don’t need to worry so much.”

He took a deep breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… can I hold your hand?”

“Of course, you can,” you replied. “I’d really like that.”

His face lit up as he reached out, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. You laughed at his boyish smile. “So this is why you’ve been silent this whole time?”

“I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

“And here I thought you didn’t want to talk to me because you didn’t enjoy my company.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. “No, not at all! I was just worried about doing something wrong.”

“I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong tonight.”

He looked at you, relief washing over his face. “Really?”

“Well, except for making me wait for a whole hour.”

He winced at your words. “Sorry about that. I really didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “Don’t worry. The flowers were worth the wait,” you said, holding up the bouquet in your other hand. “And besides, I enjoyed dancing with you, I had a great time talking to you, and now you’re walking me home, which is definitely a bonus point.”

“So you’re keeping scores?” He asked, finding this conversation amusing. “What’s my score now?”

You pretended to think, a smile playing on your lips. “Well, punctuality could use some work, but excellent choice in flowers, charming dance skills, and chivalrous escort service? I’d say you’re doing quite well. Maybe an eight out of ten?”

“An eight? What happened to the last two points?”

“You need to earn them.”

“How?”

You slowed your pace, pulling him to a stop under a streetlight.

“Close your eyes,” you instructed. He hesitated for a moment, then complied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he shut his eyes.

“Okay. Now what?”

You stood on your toes, trying to match his height, and leaned in close. Then, with a quick flutter of excitement, you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek.

His eyes widened in surprise. “I—uh, what—”

You just laughed, a light and carefree sound that cut through the night. “You just gained another point, Dr. Reid.”

Before he knew it, you turned and dashed away, your laughter trailing behind you playfully. He couldn't help but smile at the sound, and, almost without thinking, he started chasing after you.

Spencer wasn't sure why he was running, or even why this felt like the most natural thing to do, but he didn't care. Your laughter was infectious, and when he finally caught up, wrapping his arms around your waist, he couldn't stop laughing.

"Got you," he said, grinning as he met your gaze.

His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, taking in the way you looked up at him with those pretty eyes. There was a certain glow about you, a warmth that seemed to radiate across your face. His gaze then drifted down to your lips, slightly parted and still bearing the sweetest smile he had ever seen, and he felt an unfamiliar tug in his chest.

He liked seeing you like this. You always looked so confident and poised, but now you seemed... happy. There was a lightness in your eyes that he hadn't seen before, and like a moth to a flame, he wanted to bask in your warmth.

Without thinking, he slowly closed the gap between you, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your gaze again. The world seemed to hold its breath as he leaned in, and then, gently, he kissed you.

Your lips were so soft.

He had imagined they would be, but not like this—not as delicate, not as perfectly in sync with his. The sensation was more than he had ever expected, more than he had allowed himself to hope for. His tongue gently traced your bottom lip, and the soft moan that escaped you urged him even further.

He pulled you closer, and you parted your lips to invite him in. The moment his tongue slipped inside your mouth, he was lost in the rush of flavors and sensations. Your tongues danced together, exploring, tasting, savoring every second while everything around him started to blur into shadows and muffled sounds.

He was so engrossed, so utterly consumed by the taste of you, that he completely forgot he was standing in the middle of a bustling sidewalk. It wasn't until he heard the distinct sound of a throat being cleared that reality snapped back into focus. Pulling slightly away, he turned his head towards the sound and met the stern gaze of an older woman passing by.

“Sorry,” he muttered, feeling incredibly flustered. The woman simply huffed and continued on her way, shaking her head.

You giggled as you reached up to wipe a smudge of lipstick from his mouth. “I thought you weren’t good with this sort of thing.”

“I’m not,” he assured you, his thumb gently brushing your sides. “This is... definitely a first for me.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you don’t usually make out with girls on busy sidewalks?”

The laugh he let out sounded almost ludicrous, as if the image of him kissing girls in public seemed completely out of character, out of place—until now, to his surprise.

“Nope, can’t say that I do.”

You smiled and tugged on his arm. “Come on.”

You walked together, and Spencer took your hand again. His grip tightened slightly, almost unconsciously, as if he wanted to imprint the way your hand felt into his memory. He was acutely aware of the warmth of your skin, the way your fingers fit perfectly with his. And this sense of wanting to hold onto you grew even stronger when you finally arrived at your building.

“This is me,” you said softly, turning to face him.

He looked down at your intertwined hands. “This is you.”

There was a brief, tense silence before you softly called out his name. He met your gaze, and dear god, how could he let go when you looked at him like that? He was mesmerized by the way your eyes sparkled under the light, the soft curve of your smile, the gentle confidence in your stance.

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you going to ask how you can earn your last point?”

He blinked, momentarily thrown off by your question, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Alright,” he said. “How can I earn my last point?”

Then he saw it, the same glint in your eyes that he had noticed when you were dancing on stage. It was a look filled with flirtation, exuding sex appeal and confidence. The way your eyes sparkled under the ambient light, the subtle but assured smile playing on your lips, all pointed to someone who knew exactly what they were doing and enjoyed the game just as much as the outcome.

“Well,” you started. “How about you come upstairs and we can figure it out together?”

Spencer’s heart raced at your words. He might not have had much experience when it came to dating, but he knew the look on your face all too well because he was sure he had the same expression. His eyes fell to your lips.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

You gave him a knowing smile. “Because you’re trying to remain professional?” You asked, recalling his exact words the other night. “Spencer, I think you’ve long forgotten about that the moment you agreed to spend the evening with me.”

He felt a rush of warmth at your words, realizing just how right you were. The boundaries he usually upheld seemed irrelevant now, replaced by the desire to be closer to you. He sighed, the tension easing slightly as he admitted, “I guess you’re right.”

You stepped closer, your smile seductive. “So, how about we stop worrying about what’s appropriate and just enjoy ourselves?”

He was going to regret this.

“What do you have in mind?”

He was really going to regret this.

“I think you already know what I have in mind.”

Oh, screw it. If regret was the price he had to bear, then he was willing to pay it.

~*~

The crowd pulsed when you stepped out into the main area, heels clicking sharply against the floor. You took in the scene before you, passing sleazy men, some slipping tips to a dancer on stage, others getting lap dances in the dimly lit corners. A group of men in sharp suits whistled when they spotted you, and you winked at them, flipping your hair back with a playful gesture before continuing on.

You could feel heavy stares watching your every move, but despite being in a room full of men, there was only one man you had your eyes on.

You spotted him by the bar with a drink in his hand, and despite your meticulous planning to bring him back here to observe him, the sight of the man who ripped off your dreams as a naive sixteen-year-old girl never failed to ignite a burning rage within you. You wondered whether his memory was as vivid as yours, if he remembered the disgusting things he had done. But there was never any sign of recognition in his eyes, just as there hadn’t been in the eyes of the three before him.

They all thought you were just a woman trying to make ends meet, working every night in this dark place by taking your clothes off on stage. To them, you were just another pretty face, another body to gawk at. They believed you were just another girl trapped in the cycle of survival, oblivious to the deadly game you were playing.

You had crafted this persona carefully, every move, every word designed to lure them in, to make them feel comfortable, even powerful. They had no idea that you held their fate in your hands. You made them think they were taking advantage of a desperate woman, but in reality, they were the ones being manipulated, guided like pawns towards their inevitable downfall.

And tonight, it was his turn. The last of the men who had tainted your innocence.

You slipped into the empty stool beside him, a coy smile playing on your lips. “I thought I saw a familiar face.”

He turned towards you, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you replied, your voice a soft purr. The words were easy, almost natural.

“You’ve been quite the distraction for me,” he admitted. “Couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

You laughed lightly. “Good, because I aim to please.”

“And you’re very pleasing to look at,” he agreed, his eyes tracing the curve of your smile. “You have a way of captivating an audience.”

“Well, it’s nice to know I have such a dedicated fan.” You leaned loser so your shoulders brushed. “What brings you here tonight? A fight with the missus?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. She’s out of town.”

You knew that already. You knew his schedule as well as he did, if not better. But you feigned innocence, like you always did.

“Lucky me then,” you replied with a flirtatious tilt of your head. “It means I get to have you all to myself tonight.”

“That’s the idea,” he said, his eyes roaming over you with undisguised interest. “I really couldn’t stop thinking about you lately.”

You leaned in closer, your breath warm against his ear. “Really? What exactly have you been thinking?”

“I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to spend some real time with you. Away from the club.”

You arched an eyebrow, your lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh? And what exactly would we do with that time?”

His hand brushed against your thigh under the table, a bold move that was more telling than any words. “I think you know what I mean.”

You pulled back slightly, giving him a flirtatious look. “You know it’s against the rules to do anything too... personal here. The club has strict policies about that sort of thing.”

“That’s a shame. I was hoping for more than just a dance.”

You smiled slyly, your eyes locking onto his with a promise. “Who says we have to stay here?”

His grin widened. “Yeah?”

You nodded, brushing your fingers along his arm. “We could go somewhere else…” you murmured, your hand continuing a path up his shoulder, tracing the line of his suit jacket. “Somewhere we can really enjoy each other’s company.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your suggestion. “Like where?”

You let your lips brush his ear. “How about your place? Your wife isn't there, we can use it however we want.”

There was a pause as he considered your words. You could see the wheels turning, the temptation playing across his face. Sensing his uncertainty, you placed your hand gently on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your fingertips.

“Think about it,” you coaxed softly, your voice a seductive whisper. “Just you and me, no rules, no eyes watching...” Your body inched closer to his. “It’ll be our little secret.”

His eyes darkened with anticipation, the earlier reluctance fading away under your touch. “Alright,” he said after a brief pause. “Let’s go back to my place.”

You smiled triumphantly, standing up, brushing the nonexistent dust on his shoulders. “Meet me at the back exit in five. I need to grab my purse.”

He nodded excitedly as he watched you walk away, mesmerized by the confidence in the sway of your hips. But the moment you stepped into the dressing room, your façade cracked.

You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, taking a deep breath as you fought to keep your composure. The walls seemed to close in, the air thinning around you as if suffocating you under the weight of your own emotions. Your breath became shallow, the world spinning slightly as a wave of dizziness and anger overwhelmed you all at once.

You slowly forced yourself to move, your feet dragging you over towards the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was almost unrecognizable. The confident, seductive woman from moments was now replaced with a figure trembling under the weight of her memories.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the past rushed back in a wave of emotion. The image of the young girl you once were, the girl whose dreams had been shattered by the man waiting for you outside, seemed to blend itself over your reflection. The pain, the anger, the helplessness—it all came flooding back, threatening to overwhelm you.

But you couldn’t let it. Not now.

Wiping away the tears with the back of your hand, you straightened up, forcing yourself to take deep, steadying breaths. You grabbed your purse and checked its contents one last time, making sure everything was in place, and checked your phone.

There was a message.

Your eyes welled up with tears again as you saw the name glaring back at you.

Dr. Reid :)

Just seeing his name was breaking your heart. He had been trying to contact you for days now, ever since that night you spent together. The night that had been a brief, beautiful distraction from the dark path you were on. He was kind, gentle, and you couldn’t stop thinking of the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. 

Each message was harder to ignore than the last, and he wasn’t just reaching out; he was trying to reach in. His words were always kind, always thoughtful.

I had a great time. Can we meet again?

Just thinking about you. Hope you're okay. 

Did you know sea otters hold hands when they sleep to keep from drifting apart?

His random messages of facts always made you smile because it was so authentically him—something you had never encountered before. And every time he tried to contact you, the walls you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crack. You longed to reach out to him, to relive those short moments of happiness that had brought a rare light into your life. But you knew that if you allowed yourself to see him again, it would only weaken your resolve.

So you had been avoiding him, giving excuses about being busy or not feeling well. His presence had a way of grounding you, and you couldn’t afford that now, not when you were so close to the end.

Your eyes fell to your phone again. Despite the knot tightening in your stomach, despite knowing how much it would hurt, you clicked open the message.

Can I see you tonight?

The words on the screen blurred as your grip tightened. A part of you wanted to see him again, to have his arms wrapped around your body, to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. But surrendering to these desires would only put you in danger. It was only a matter of time until he saw through your act, and until then, you needed to move fast.

Because you knew that if you let him in, if you opened that door, you wouldn't be able to follow through with your plan. The plan that had consumed you for so long, and now with the final act right in front of you, you couldn't afford any distractions.

So you took a deep breath and crafted another lie.

I have work tonight. I'm sorry.

~*~

Spencer stared at the message, a frown creasing his forehead. Had he done something wrong?

He couldn't shake the feeling that you were avoiding him. He replayed the evening in his mind, analyzing every detail, every word exchanged. It had felt perfect to him—the connection, the chemistry. But now, your constant excuses and distant responses gnawed at him. Had he misread everything? Had he been too forward, or was there something he had missed?

"Reid?" Derek's voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to reality.

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbled, slipping his phone into his pocket. “You were saying?”

Derek opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Penelope entered the conference room with a laptop in her hand. "You guys are gonna love me," she sang, setting the device down.

“You found anything?” Derek asked.

“Remember that blurry picture of the tattoo you sent me a few days ago?” she turned her laptop screen towards them, showing a detailed emblem that was now clearly visible. "This isn't just any tattoo—it's mandatory for the members of a local club known for their… exclusive membership.”

“What kind of club?”

Penelope clicked through a few more screens, bringing up information she had compiled. “It’s a bit underground, not your typical social club. It appears to be part social, part cultural, but there are hints of something more... let's just say, illegal activities.”

“And all members have this tattoo?”

“Yep, it’s like a symbol of loyalty, almost like a badge of honor.”

Spencer felt a knot tightening in his stomach. “Is it… The Velvet Curtain?”

Penelope shook her head, typing quickly to bring up a comparison on her screen. 

“No, The Velvet Curtain is just a fancy, exclusive strip club. This one, on the other hand…” She paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she chose her words carefully, “...is much more secretive and, from what I can tell, much more dangerous. Think less about glamour and more about power and control."

“What kind of activities are we talking about?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual gambling and trafficking,” Penelope said dryly, scrolling through her screen. “I think you guys should check this out after we wrap up the case.”

Derek ignored her jab and crossed his arms. “So our victim can be anyone, which doesn't narrow it down much.” He turned to Penelope. “How many members are we talking about?”

“Over three hundred registered members.”

He let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of numbers.”

“Have you tried cross-referencing the members with Rick Sullivan?" Spencer suggested. "He might be our best lead.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Penelope’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she pulled up new data. After a few moments, she exclaimed, “Got it!”

Derek leaned in. “We have a name?”

Penelope quickly brought up a profile. “James Dalton, went to college with Rick. Mid-30s, a manager at a tech firm, lives in the suburbs with his family…” She trailed off, her eyes widening. “...and was reported missing a week ago.”

Spencer frowned, piecing it together. “He could be our John Doe.”

Penelope nodded, already typing away. “I’m cross-referencing his dental records and fingerprints as we speak.”

“You can do that?”

“You underestimate me, pretty boy,” she quipped with a smirk, her fingers flying over the keyboard. It didn't take long for her screen to flash with the confirmation she needed. “It’s a match. James Dalton is our John Doe. The dental records line up perfectly.”

The room fell into a heavy silence as they absorbed the news. Derek ran a hand over his face, breaking the silence with a sigh. “Did Rick and James ever contact each other after college?”

Penelope shook her head, scrolling through her data. “No, there’s no evidence of any recent communications. It looks like they hadn't been in touch for years until... well, until whatever pulled them back together recently.”

Spencer leaned closer to get a better view of Penelope’s screen. “Can you check his bank records? There could be any mutual transactions between them.”

“Pulling up his financials now,” she said, her eyes scanning the data that populated her screen. Moments later, she pointed at a series of numbers. “There are no mutual transactions… oh wow.”

“What is it?”

“He spent a lot of money over the past few months,” Penelope continued, her eyes wide with surprise. “We’re talking significant amounts.”

“Where?”

She looked up at him. “The Velvet Curtain.”

Spencer felt the blood drain from his body. It was as if a heavy, sinking feeling took hold, the kind that grips the stomach and pulls down hard. At first, he thought of your safety. The club you worked at was linked to the case, and worse, even directly to the victims. This connection sent chills down his spine, filling him with dread.

But the more he thought about it, especially when his mind replayed how you had been avoiding him lately, the worse his feelings grew. His concern turned into suspicion, and then that suspicion morphed into a sense of betrayal. Were you involved in this? Were you hiding something from him?

He shook his head. No, he couldn’t let his mind go there. You wouldn’t do that. You couldn’t. You were too kind, too genuine. There had to be another explanation.

“Reid, let’s go.”

Spencer looked up to see Derek standing by the door. “Where?”

“We need to go back there,” Derek said firmly. “We’re missing something.”

Spencer’s badge felt heavier than usual, the gun on his hip weighing him down. His mind was clouded with doubt, his heart pounding with anxiety. He always considered himself as someone who was confident when it came to his job, a man of knowledge who could win an argument with facts and logic. But now the lines of right and wrong seemed to blurred and he found himself questioning even his own judgment.

He let out a heavy breath. There was nothing else he could do but to follow Derek out of the room. He needed to see this through, for justice, for his peace of mind, and perhaps, for your innocence he hoped to prove.

~*~

You weren’t here. 

I have work tonight, I’m sorry.

You weren’t here.

Spencer was trying to come up with excuses for your disappearance. Maybe you got sick. Maybe there was an emergency. His mind went through plausible scenarios, but none seemed to fit quite right, and his curiosity continued to gnaw at him. He braced himself and approached the club owner, hoping to gain some information under the pretense of connecting you as a witness.

The man, with a burly frame, salt-and-pepper hair, and a scowl etched on his face, barely let Spencer get the words out.

“She was here,” the owner grumbled. “Her set was half an hour ago and I haven’t seen her since. If I find out she’s skipping out on work again…” He trailed off, shaking his head in frustration.

Spencer felt his heart sank. “Again?”

He nodded gruffly. “Yeah, she’s been a bit unreliable lately. Shows up late, leaves early. It’s becoming a problem.”

“Did she mention anything to you?”

“She never says much. Keeps to herself mostly. If she’s in some kind of trouble, she’s not talking about it.” He gave Spencer a once-over. “You know her personally?”

Caught off-guard, Spencer quickly shook his head. “No. I’ve just heard she might have some useful information on the case we’re working on.”

The owner seemed to accept this, nodding slightly. “Well, good luck with that. If you find her, tell her she’s got some explaining to do.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him even more. The pressure in his chest was almost suffocating. He knew he needed to focus on trying to find out anything about James Dalton, but his mind kept turning to you, unable to shake the fear that something terrible had happened, or worse, or worse, that you might somehow be involved. 

“What was that all about?”

He looked up to see Derek watching him closely. “Nothing.”

Derek studied him for a moment, noting the slight shift in his demeanor, the way his eyes darted away. “Reid, is everything okay?”

“I’m fine."

“You know you can talk to me if something’s up, right?”

“I know,” he snapped. Then he sighed, his expression softening. “I’m fine, really. Let’s just focus on the case.”

Derek studied him for a moment longer, wanting to press further, but was stopped when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, saw Penelope’s name, and quickly switched it to speaker.

“Found something new?” Derek asked.

“Yes,” Penelope's voice came through with urgency. “Have you found anything interesting yet?”

“No, nothing solid on our end,” Derek replied, glancing at Spencer who remained focused but visibly tense. “What did you find?"

“I think you should take this somewhere private,” Penelope suggested cautiously.

Derek nodded, catching Spencer’s eye and motioning for him to follow. They navigated through the bustling backstage area, moving past busy staff and performers until they spotted an empty dressing room. He ushered Spencer inside and shut the door behind them.

“We’re out of earshot,” Derek confirmed, his tone low. “Go ahead.”

“Alright, listen,” Penelope began, her voice serious. “I’ve been digging into the pasts of the two victims we identified and I found something disturbing that was buried deep in their college history. It took a lot of digging because it was almost completely erased from the public record.”

“What did you find?”

“There were reports of a group of men, including Sullivan and Dalton, who were accused of sexually assaulting a high school student who was a minor. The details were sketchy and it seems there was a significant effort to cover it up. The case never went to trial, the reports were sealed.”

“How many men were involved?” 

“Four. Sullivan, Dalton, Mark Eldridge, and Robert Lawson.” There were some clicking noises in the background before Penelope continued, “Mark Eldridge was reportedly missing a few days ago, and I cross-checked his dental records with our second John Doe—it was a match.”

Derek let out a sigh. “This looks like some kind of revenge plot.” He ran a hand over his face, the weight of the situation sinking in. “What can you tell us about Lawson?”

Penelope quickly typed in a few commands. “Robert Lawson lives on the outskirts of town. He’s maintained a low profile over the years, but nothing in his recent history suggests he’s aware of the danger he might be in.”

Derek nodded, absorbing the information. “Alright, send us his address. We need to get to him before the Unsub does.”

“Sending it now,” Penelope confirmed.

“Garcia?”

Derek looked up to see Spencer standing at the edge of the room, staring blankly at a spot on the wall. His posture was tense, his face pale, and his breathing uneven. It was the most uncharacteristic of him Derek had ever seen.

“Who was the victim?” Spencer asked, his voice low, almost strained.

There was a brief pause as Penelope searched through her files. “Y/N L/N,” she answered quietly. “She was a high school student at the time, just sixteen. The case was buried deep, but it’s all here—she was threatened, her family was paid off, and the whole thing was hushed up.”

Derek felt a chill run down his spine. “And where is she now?”

Another pause, this one more tense, as Penelope gathered the final piece of information.

“She’s a dancer at The Velvet Curtain.”

Spencer felt his world tilt. The realization hit him like a freight train, his heart dropping like a stone into the depths of his stomach. It was as if the ground beneath his feet had turned to ice, sending him slipping into a dizzying spin of shock and disbelief. The pieces clicked together with the painful precision of a knife twisting in his gut. All the clues that had seemed disconnected before suddenly formed a clear, devastating picture. 

“Reid.”

He couldn’t breathe, his chest tight with a constricting panic. The room closed in around him, the walls seeming to press closer with each labored breath.

“Reid.”

The reality made him feel sick.

“Reid!”

He needed to get out of here.

His feet carried him toward the door, pushing him outside to breathe. The fresh air hit his face, but it did little to ease the heaviness in his lungs.

“Reid, I need you to talk to me,” Derek’s voice followed behind him.

Spencer leaned against the cool brick wall, trying to steady his racing heart and chaotic thoughts. He struggled to find the words, the horror of the situation crashing over him like a relentless wave.

“What happened?”

He stared at Derek through blurry eyes. “It’s her,” he managed to choke out. “I-I didn’t know it was her…”

“Reid.” Derek stepped closer, gripping his shoulders. “Breathe.”

Spencer looked up at him, the pain suffocating his chest, building up inside until he couldn’t hold it back any longer. The words began tumbling out of his lips.

He told him everything. How you approached him that first night they came to the club, how you stood out in the crowd. He described the spark in your eyes when you had asked him out on a date and how hesitant he was at first until his curiosity got the better of him.

He recalled that night, how he felt a connection he hadn't known was missing. He told Derek about the conversations you shared, the laughter between you, and how deeply fulfilling it felt to be with someone who seemed to truly get him, a happiness he hadn't known before.

Derek stared at him when he finished. There was no judgment in his eyes, far from it, but what Spencer saw was even worse—it was pity.

“Reid…”

Spencer shook his head, trying to dismiss Derek’s sympathy that made him feel so exposed. “I know what this looks like,” he cut in quickly. “But you have to understand, it felt—everything with her felt real.”

“I know, I know. I believe you, man, it’s just—”Derek sighed. “You’re too involved in this.”

Spencer met his gaze. “I never wanted to be this involved.”

Derek let out another sigh, something he couldn’t stop doing when the person he considered as his little brother was going through so much pain. He took out his phone from his pocket. “Look, let me call Hotch and tell him to send someone else—”

Spencer quickly grabbed Derek’s arm, stopping him from dialing. “No,” he insisted. “I need to do this. I want to see her.”

“I don’t think—“

“I have to,” Spencer pleaded. “I need to. I can’t… I just… I need to see her.”

“Reid, she’s dangerous. She’s killed three men before, and there’s a chance she might do the same to you.”

Spencer shook his head. “What she’s doing is for revenge, you said that yourself. She won’t hurt me.”

“But—“

“Morgan, please,” Spencer interrupted, the desperation clear in his voice. “Let me talk to her. This might be my only chance.”

Derek watched him closely, seeing the pain and determination in his eyes. It was clear Spencer wasn’t going to back down, and understanding this, he finally gave in.

“Fine. But we’re taking every precaution, okay? You’re not going in alone.” Spencer nodded gratefully. “And I’m still calling for backup.”

“Of course,” he agreed, watching Derek turn around.

Spencer silently followed him back to the car as he replayed every moment without you. He tried to search for any clues he might have missed, wondering how he had been so blind, so caught up in his feelings. The thought of you being the one behind those murders was too much for him to bear, yet he knew he had to confront you. He had to know why you did it. He had to know whether any of those moments you shared together was as magical for you as it was for him, even though he was scared of the answers, of this new, cruel reality.

He just had to see you, no matter how painful it might be.

~*~

Your last victim was the easiest. You’d think he would have struggled a bit, or maybe he’d see right through your act. After all, this wasn’t the first time he had seen you, and sure, you might have looked different, but you still had the same features from when you were young. Your eyes. Your smile. You were still you, just older.

But he never noticed, because as soon as you started to seduce him, he was just like the others. All they sought was your body, or the thought of it, the fantasy they spun so easily in their minds. You realized that another thing that hadn’t changed was their disgusting perception of you, not as a person, but as an object for their desires.

Despite their oblivious nature, it came to your benefit. It was easy to put the drug in his drink, not much, but enough to make him drowsy. Enough for his body to go limp so you could tie his hands behind his back easily. You could see his brows creasing as he struggled to keep his eyes open. You knew the sedative was starting to get to his brain.

You managed to drag his body to his study. You had pulled him by his feet, his head occasionally bumping along the floor. He groaned but didn’t do much, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. His eyes, heavy and confused, flickered with a dim recognition of his state, a useless attempt to grasp the situation that was slowly escaping his control.

And you loved it.

“W-What…” He closed his eyes, then opened them again. “…help…”

You left him there to struggle as you grabbed the can of gasoline from his backyard, which you had hidden there that morning when he was at work. You wondered briefly if he had noticed it when he came back home, but just like the others, he was oblivious. It was still right where you left it.

You carried it back into the study and noticed his eyes widening slightly, a fear starting to seep through his confusion. You unscrewed the cap, the pungent smell filling the room, and stared down at him.

That was when you heard the ringing.

It was a loud, jarring noise and your eyes settled onto the house phone sitting on his desk. The sound was out of place, cutting through the tension-filled silence like a knife as you waited for it to stop. It kept on going, on and on, until the answering machine clicked on, and a familiar voice cut through the room, calling out your name.

You let out a cry. The sound of Spencer’s unmistakable voice echoed in your ears, the voice you had hoped to avoid was now invading this moment.

“Pick up the phone,” he pleaded. “Please.”

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not when his voice was already starting to shake your defenses.

The call ended not long after that. You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to regain your composure. But then the phone rang again. This time, his message was more desperate.

“Talk to me, please, I know what you’ve been through... I just want to help.”

The gasoline can shook in your grip. Help was the last thing you needed. “I don't want any help," you muttered to yourself, the words barely audible over his voice cutting through the answering machine.

“I-I’ll be here if you need me, you don't have to go through this alone.”

"I don't want any help.”

But he kept on, his voice calm yet insistent. "I know you're in pain, but this—this isn't the way to solve things. Answer me, please, let me help—“

It was your last straw. You finally snatched up the phone. "I don't want any help!"

You were met with a stunned silence on the other end. It was deafening, stretching out long enough for the reality of who was on the other end to sink in.

“…Spencer?”

“I’m here,” he replied softly. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Hearing his voice, so familiar and filled with genuine care, made you pause. For a split second, the walls you had built around your heart trembled. You wanted to scream at him, to push him away, but a part of you longed for his presence.

“Why?” you whispered. “Why are you not going anywhere?”

“Because I…” There was a pause. “Because I care about you.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst. “You do?”

“I do,” he confessed. “More than I should have.”

You sniffed, gently placing the gasoline on top of the wooden surface of the desk. “Because you’re an FBI agent and I’m a stripper?” You wondered, recalling the same question you had asked him days ago.

“You know it was never about that,” he said. “But you’re smart enough to know the real reason.”

You glanced back at the man lying on the floor, barely conscious, his breaths shallow and labored. Spencer’s voice rang in your ears again.

“Don’t do this… please.”

You swallowed, your heart beating fast. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”

“I’ll give you three,” he responded quickly. “One, you’re not a bad person.”

Your grip on the phone tightened.

“Two, you deserve a chance to find real peace.”

Your eyes welled up with tears, the resolve in your heart wavering.

“And three,” Spencer’s voice softened. “Because I want to dance with you again.”

The memory of that night, the connection you felt, rushed back, overwhelming your rage that you couldn’t help but laugh through your tears. “Yeah?”

“I want you to teach me again,” he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I’m still not very good at it.”

The image of the two of you dancing at the bar brought a bittersweet ache to your heart. But it wasn’t enough to overwhelm the anger, the deep-seated rage that had driven you for so long.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the phone, the words escaping in a breath so faint it was almost swallowed by the silence of the room.

Spencer heard it, though. “Don’t say that. It’s not over,” he pleaded. “We can still have more nights out, more dances.”

“Spencer, stop.”

“Think about it,” he continued, his voice softening as he tried a different approach. “Your family, they would rather take the money than fight for you. They left you to fend for yourself when you needed them the most.”

“Spencer…”

“And you’ve carried that weight for so long. You’ve been so strong, but now you’re not alone, you have me. So don’t let their choices define you,” he muttered. “You’re better than this.”

His words struck a nerve.

“Better than this?” You suddenly snapped, anger flaring up again. “You don’t know me. Just because we had one date, it doesn’t mean you understand what I’ve been through.”

“I don’t know everything you’ve been through,” Spencer admitted. “But I know pain. I know what it’s like to feel abandoned and betrayed.”

He paused, the line silent for a moment before he continued with a heavy sigh.

“When I was in school, a girl asked me to meet her by the school field one day… only for the football team to show up instead. They tied me up to a goalpost and stripped me naked in front of all the students.” He took a deep breath. “Everyone laughed and stared, and no one did anything to stop them.”

You knew what he was trying to do. And partly, it worked. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for him. You imagined how sad it must have been for him, how traumatic and devastating that experience must have been. It was heartbreaking to picture him in that situation. But despite your sympathy, it didn’t suppress the anger inside you.

As painful as his story sounded, you knew you’d rather take his place instead of enduring what you had experienced.

“Spencer, it’s not the same,” you said, your voice trembling. “What they did to you was horrible, but what happened to me… it destroyed everything.”

“I know it’s not the same,” he replied quietly. “But pain is pain. And it doesn’t have to define us. We can choose—“

“Pain is pain?” You cried, finally letting go of the tears you had been holding back. “You know what’s painful? Hearing your story and the first thing that came up to my mind was how I’d rather take your place, because unlike you, those men didn’t stop after they stripped me naked.”

The anger boiled over, and you couldn't stop yourself, tears streamed down your face as raw, unfiltered pain poured out in your words.

"Do you know what it feels like to be young and helpless? To have four men twice your size assault you?" You screamed, losing any semblance of control you had left. "Do you fucking know how it feels to see these disgusting men get away with everything while you have to endure the nightmares, the flashbacks, the fear every single day?"

Your voice broke, heavy sobs wracking your body.

"Do you know how it feels to be broken, to be so destroyed that you can't even look at yourself in the mirror without hating what you see?”

Silence fell, your heavy breathing the only sound in the aftermath of your outburst. Spencer's voice was gentle when he finally spoke. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Of course, you didn’t. Because you’re a man, after all.” You picked up the gasoline again, the weight heavy in your hand. “You’re just like them… all you want to do is to save them.”

“That’s not what I—”

“And you’re fucking wasting my time.”

You slammed the phone down, cutting off the connection.

You moved on instinct. You looked down at the man on the floor, his eyes half-open, barely conscious. You regarded him one last time before you poured the gasoline over his body. The fumes rose in the air as you spread the liquid around the room, creating a trail that led to the door. At some point, one of your heels cracked, and you kicked them off, feeling the cold ground beneath your feet. It was a minor inconvenience, nothing compared to the gravity of what you were about to do.

When you finally reached a safe distance from the house, you paused, taking one last deep breath, throwing the empty can onto the ground. The weight of your past, your pain, and your anger all converged in this single moment. You took out the lighter, your hands trembling as the reality of what you were about to do settled in.

You flicked the lighter, the small flame dancing in the night air. For a moment, you were transfixed by it, the flickering light a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding you. Everything you had endured, everything that had brought you to this point, seemed to hinge on this tiny flame.

With a flick of your hand, you let it fall to the ground.

The flame kissed the trail of gasoline, igniting it instantly. The fire took life, racing along the path with a hunger that matched your own rage. It moved back toward the house, consuming everything it touched, fueled by the fume and your deep-seated desire for retribution.

The flames grew and the fire roared louder, its crackling sound filling the silence of the night. The house began to catch, the flames eagerly climbing the walls. The sight was mesmerizing yet horrifying, and you stood rooted to the spot, the fire reflecting in your eyes, casting light on the tears that streaked down your face.

You felt a smile forming on your lips.

So this was what it felt like, to watch the ashes drift through the air. To smell the acid scent of smoke. To feel the heat envelop you, wrapping your body like a suffocating blanket. To hear the sound of the world cracking and crumbling under the force of your wrath. It was beautiful, and you were mesmerized by the flames, the destruction—they were your creation, your justice.

But deep down, it was so much more than that. This wasn’t just for you, but for everyone else who had been silenced, who couldn’t do anything. You realized your anger was more than just a personal vendetta. It was a voice for the voiceless, a stand against those who had used their power to hurt and destroy.

You thought of all the others who had been through the same hell, who had been left to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives alone, who had been dismissed by a system that should have protected them.

The fire was for them, too.

You continued to watch the flame dance through the night sky, and that was when you heard it, the distant sound of vehicles approaching you. The crunch of gravel under tires grew louder and you stayed rooted where you were.

There was no running from this, no escaping what was to come. You had chosen this path, you had already accepted the consequences long before the first match was struck.

As you turned around, a group of people in FBI vests came rushing out, some frantically calling for backup as they watched the fire consume the house, while a few others pointed their weapons towards you. But your eyes were fixed on the man who had given you a glimpse of hope, the man who had tried to save you.

You felt tears streaming down your face as Spencer approached you, and you sobbed uncontrollably, the reality of what you had done sinking in.

“I’m sorry,” you cried, your voice breaking. “I-I had to do it.”

“Reid.”

An older FBI agent standing close called him, his tone a clear warning, but Derek, the other agent who you had also seen at the club, placed a hand on his shoulder. The older agent hesitated, then remained silent, allowing Spencer to approach you.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Spencer’s eyes took in your appearance. The confident woman he had always known was nowhere to be found, replaced by this version of you—vulnerable, sad, and angry at the world. The sight of you barefoot, the dirt and grime clinging to your skin, made it even more heartbreaking. Your hair was disheveled, your face was streaked with tears. The raw emotion in your eyes tore at his heart.

“I—I’m sorry too,” he whispered.

You let out a choked sob. “I… I-I really had fun that night.”

Spencer nodded helplessly. “It was the best night of my life.”

Your sobs grew louder, feeling the air restrict your lungs. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get to do it again.”

He shook his head. “We could.”

“You know well we couldn’t,” you murmured. The pain in his eyes after those words left your mouth was too much—that raw, unguarded hurt—and you had to close your eyes, not wanting to see it.

In that brief darkness you wondered what would have happened if you had never gone through with any of this. Would you still have crossed his path? Would things have been different? But no, your rage was too consuming, too deep-seated for you to second guess the path you had chosen.

His soft voice whispered your name, and you blinked your eyes open, noticing his outstretched arm.

“Dance with me.”

You let out a painful cry. “Spencer… don’t make it harder than it already is.”

“Please, I… I just want to hold you.” You stared at his hand trembling under the firelight. “Please.”

You had never felt so much pain, a crushing weight on your heart, and against your better judgment, you took his hand. He pulled you gently into his arms, holding you close as if trying to memorize every detail of your body pressed against his.

The world seemed to pause. You let your mind be happy for a while, you let it travel to the simple, mundane things you wished you could do with him—walking hand in hand through a park, sharing quiet breakfasts, laughing together over something silly, and feeling his comforting presence beside you during the small, quiet times in bed.

You dreamed of a life where your past didn’t haunt you, where the weight of your decisions didn’t crush your spirit. You dreamed of waking up to his smile, of whispered conversations in the dark, of his naked body pressed against yours as he whispered sweet nothings to your ear. You allowed yourself to fantasize of a life filled with those ordinary, beautiful moments, a life that felt so achingly close yet so painfully out of reach.

But the fire’s glow around you was a reminder of the reality you couldn’t escape. Still, for a few moments, the night around you seemed to fade, the chaos and destruction reduced to a distant backdrop. His hands were gentle on your back, holding you as if you were something precious, something to be cherished, someone to be loved.

“I’m sorry for everything,” he murmured into your hair.

You pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, those deep brown eyes you knew you were going to miss. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

The sorrow there was mirrored in your own, a mutual recognition of the pain you both felt. His gaze held yours, intense and searching, as if trying to commit every detail to memory. The color of your eyes, the feel of your skin, the sound of your voice. He wanted to remember you for a lifetime.

With tears streaming down your face, you leaned into him, savoring the bittersweet moment. You ignored everything around you. The noise, the chaos, the destruction—all of it faded into the background. It was just the two of you, as if nothing else mattered.

And nothing else did.

So you danced for the last time, holding on to each other desperately, each step a silent prayer, each turn a tender goodbye, as the world continued to burn.

~*~

“Can't seem to hold you like I want to,

So I can feel you in my arms.

Nobody's gonna come and save you,

We pulled too many false alarms.”

~*~

A/n: If you managed to make it to the end, I applaud you! Thank you from taking the time to read this fic. I’m very self conscious about this because not only does it have 14k words, the plot is also very heavy. But I’m happy with how it turned out and I hope you liked it too. Also, I could go on and on about why I chose this specific plot, but I’d be talking too much here. So if you want to further discuss this story, feel free to send me asks. I’ll gladly reply to them <3

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You in a Maid Outfit

Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Implied Sexual Content, Rough Ghost & König, Dominant Ghost & König, Lashing (with a Belt), Restraining, Victim Blaming (Kind Of), Petnames, König is Basically Feral™, Implied Oral, Threats, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

Comes up behind you when you’re idling with something and straight-up just sticks his hand up your skirt.

He pulls you to his chest when you jump, squeal, taking advantage of your flailing to hook the band of your underwear and pull them down your thighs.

Confused, you’re given no time to react before Ghost has your hands pinned behind your back, held in place with handcuffs of bone, flesh and pure muscle as he shunts you against the countertop, something protruding – intruding – hard against your exposed centre as he presses himself tightly against you.

Your cheek pressed against the cold surface, you barely see or hear Ghost between your startled breaths, feeling only a shadow come over you as he leans down to your ear, his free hand slithering from your back to your face, where he slips a lock of hair from your vision.

“Did’ya really think you could get away with wearing this,” he said, low, dangerous, his hand coming to grip the hem of your skirt.

“Without consequences ?”

You can feel his hand on your thigh now, gripping the skin hard enough to leave a pale imprint of his lust. Fingers slithering up the expanse of your leg, resting just beneath where you’ll be screaming for him to have mercy half an hour from now.

It doesn’t matter what you do or say now – not that you can or will be able to do much of either with your arms bound and Ghost occupying your mouth with a meat delicacy you can’t buy over a counter (despite that being where you are now, ironically) in about ten minutes’ time..

“The time for apologies is over, Darling,” he tells you. You wince when you hear his belt hissing as he slides it from his jeans, the material crinkling in his grip as if the creature it hailed from was still alive.

And he cracks it. Once. Twice. Against your bare thighs, making you cry out, your stockings having withered under Ghost’s harsh stare.

“All you can do now is repent.”

König

Lures you into a false sense of security with low, soft praises of “How beautiful you look, Engel !” And “Won’t you come closer so I can have a better look at you ?”

By the time you may suspect something in König’s tone is unusually jovial, it’s too late.

You missed the feral glint in his eye, the shattering grip he had on his wine glass, discarded as he turns his attention to you now.

Before you can even wonder what it is he’s thinking, you’re slammed onto the sofa, König sinking down on top of you, his hands steel around your wrists as he holds them beside your head.

And now, you see it.

All at once, and entirely too late.

A predatory possession of all that was your kind, mild-mannered, sensitive König, replaced with a shadowed imitation, blackened by an almost supernatural depth of desire none but he could execute to its fullest potential.

And it shows in how his breathing is ragged despite you posing no real physical test to his strength. Rather, there’s something within trying to break free. And it has you in its sights.

Leaning down, König takes the skin of your neck between his teeth, biting it, sucking it, leaving a path of destruction in his wake as your skin reddens. There will be bruises soon.

Not that König will be letting anyone else see them. You’ll be lucky if you’re able to even leave the bedroom, nevermind the house.

That much is apparent to you in how König growls when you move, try to slip your constricted wrists into some position of comfort, making him clamp down on top of you, his thighs gripping your sides, your ribcage a shell in his vice.

“Don’t try anything cute, Engel,” König husks, voice deep and feral. His pupils are pinpricks, unhinged in a most biological manner. And his teeth seem sharper now. Somehow.

“Or I may be forced to try something unorthodox with you.”

The bulge between his legs, one which he presses to the sensitive spot between yours, tells you he’s deadly serious. If his killing smile wasn’t enough.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[raitonsfw]

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: When you squirm just a little too much while Dazai eats you out, his bandages became decorations around your wrists and ankles... just so he can please you properly.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, boyfriend!dazai, bondage (with his own bandages), cunnilingus, shyness, embarassment, sideways position (turned into your legs on his shoulder), p in v intercourse, dazai's a bit pushy....he just wants to please you.

a/n: him and bondage always gets me going... brb gotta write a piece with him bound in his own bandages. wc: 600ish. v-day m.list | m.list

thirst count: 1

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

“Y/N, princess… stay still.” He drawed out the pet name languidly, his breath fanning against the bud of your clit and you squirmed again. It felt overwhelming, your face hot with shame as his eyes– and tongue– drew hearts on your pussy; he just loved admiring you. He was trying to at least but you kept shying away from him, your body scooting away from the slightest lick to the heat of your cunt. 

Dazai’s tried everything; he’s held your thighs squished against his face but you wedged them open, he’s placed a delicate hand on the base of your tummy but you pouted at him, and he’s even cooed into you with gentle praises of ‘you’re doing so well, it’s okay, my love…don’t be shy.’ But nothing worked as your legs kicked out from underneath his firm grip on you and he huffed a bit as he came up, slick covering his lips with a frown. 

“Y/N.” 

“It’s embarrassing, Dazai…” You whined, clasping your thighs together as he sighed wearily while sitting back on his haunches. “I’m sorry…” 

“No need to be sorry, my love.” Dazai said, his tone forgiving but… worrying? He started to untie some of the bandages that wrapped his arms and you tilted your head slightly with a puzzled look.

“What are you doing?” 

“Tying you up.” His voice teased a higher octave, short and to the point and you felt some of your arousal drip out of you from how domineering he muttered it. “Since you won’t let me do my job–” Dazai twisted your arms behind you, “–pleasing you like the great boyfriend I am, these will have to do.”

Dazai ribboned the bandages together, tucking it securely into a bow and then he started on your legs and you squirmed against him again as he tied your ankles with a short pull. Your thighs had been pressed together and you couldn’t really move as you laid on your side, your arms snugly against the middle of your back and your legs slightly bent upwards, your entire cunt exposed in front of him. You honestly didn’t know what he was about to do; if he was going to continue lapping at your wetness or if he was going to leave you there for being so difficult.

You really hoped it wasn’t the latter and your mind raced a bit as you closed your eyes, waiting for his next move. You felt a bit of shuffling near you, his body shifting its weight against the foam of the mattress and you vaguely wondered what he was doing.

A sharp gasp left you as you felt the tip of his cock prod against your entrance, his lithe fingers spreading apart your folds slightly so he could thrust in. A relieved moan escaped him as he bottomed out in you, soothing his other hand up your thigh. “That’s better…” 

Dazai started rolling his hips into you keenly, earning gasped moans and whimpers from you as he gained a steady rhythm. He was basically fucking you sideways– with deep long thrusts hitting your sweet spot in its entirely and you shook with please; until he hoisted your pinned legs against one of his shoulders, his crown nestled directly against your cervix now. Dazai set a brutal pace, his hips slamming against you and all you could do was cry out into the pillow, euphoria overtaking your body with a shudder and you clenched around him tightly. “Shit– maybe you should squirm more often...gives me a reason to fuck you like this–”

Tied up prettily in his bandages, all because you couldn’t stop fidgeting underneath his intoxicating touch…you were sure your timidness would bruise you someday.

[wholoveseggs]

Hey lovely, today request from me🥰

I got struck on an idea where reader tried to dominate Elijah but always fail so, she get Klaus help with some magical witchy rope or something to subdue him, which was successful.

Tho here's the thing, reader is inexperienced in doing something like that and not prepped enough to take him, cuz y'know Elijah is big.. hehehe😌🤭so she started tear up, and ask for his help. Elijah being a smug he is punish her happily after...can you added a sprinkle of daddy kink and overstimulation, pretty puh-lease with the cherry on top🙏🥺

Oh btw your story always superb 🤩 😁

Bindings

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You ask Davina for help with creating something to tie up Elijah... only for you to get in way over your head. Luckily, he is in a forgiving mood.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I decided to change it from Klaus to Davina, because I just can't see Klaus being okay with you essentially making a weapon against his family... Even if the reason behind it is just for some kinky fun ♡♡

4.9k words - Warnings: smut, *magical* bondage, dom!elijah, daddy!kink, spanking, choking, sex toys and a whole lotta praise...

You sat in Davina's greenhouse, looking around at all the various plants and flowers the young witch had collected. You had asked Davina to meet up with you to help with a problem, one that was a bit awkward to even say out loud, but you knew that she of all people would understand.

You watched her browse through her books, trying to find the spell you had requested. After a few moments, Davina had found the page and started gathering the items needed.

"Davina?" you said.

She looked up from the table and gave you a curious look. "Yeah?"

"You don't think this is a little crazy? I mean, it's a bit of a long shot."

Davina smiled. "Not at all. I may have.... tried it myself... with Kol," she replied, looking away with a light blush.

Your eyes went wide. "Oh, my God. It worked?"

She shrugged trying to appear cool, but her mischievous grin gave away her answer. You smiled back and the two of you quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles.

After the laughter had calmed down, you looked at her questioningly. "So, how does it work?"

Davina took a seat on the couch next to you and showed you the spell she had found.

"The basic binding is actually quite simple, it's the ingredients that are tricky," she explained, "luckily I have white oak ash, and the rest should be easy to find."

You nodded and listened intently as Davina read through the list of ingredients and their uses. She began by grinding the herbs and mixing them in a bowl, followed by the white oak ash.

Once the mixture was complete, Davina took a long silk rope that you had provided and dipped it in the bowl. She held the rope above the bowl, letting the excess liquid drip off as she chanted the incantation.

"Done," Davina announced, handing you the now-dry rope. "It will keep him bound and unable to break free. You can use it any way you'd like." She grinned, giving you a knowing look.

You couldn't believe how easy it had been, that you were so close to fulfilling a long-held fantasy of yours. "Thank you, Davina. You're the best," you said, pulling her into a hug.

She hugged you back, giggling as she pulled away. "One more thing, if you need to break the spell, just say 'confractus' and it will untie itself,"

You nodded, thanking her again before making your way home, the rope clutched tightly in your hand.

It was the most expensive piece of clothing you had ever purchased. It wasn't even something you could wear outside your bedroom, but damn, did it make you feel sexy.

The lingerie was a red, sheer babydoll dress with black lace trim, and it was paired with a matching thong and stockings. You had never worn anything so revealing before, but you knew Elijah would like it, and that was all that mattered.

You wanted to get him all worked up, break down the gentleman facade, make him want you so badly that he would do whatever you asked. You had been waiting for the right moment to try the rope Davina had created, and you were certain that tonight was the night.

You pulled a robe over your outfit, concealing it until the right moment. Then you sat back on your bed and texted Elijah.

"Are you free tonight?"

A few moments later, your phone vibrated.

"For you, always."

You grinned and quickly replied, "Come over."

He sent a thumbs up, and you tossed your phone aside, your nerves kept you from sitting still, and you spent the next ten minutes pacing anxiously around the room. When you finally heard a knock on the door, you jumped, startled by the sound. You took a deep breath and walked to the front of your apartment.

When you opened the door, you were greeted by a sight that made your mouth water. Elijah was dressed casually, in just a t-shirt and jeans, it was a rare sight, and one that had you practically drooling.

You stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the sight of him, until he cleared his throat and asked, "Can I come in?"

"Yes, sorry. Come in." You stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let yourself melt into him, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.

"What's this for?" You asked, teasingly tugging on his t-shirt, your hands roaming across his broad chest. "Has your dry-cleaner gone and quit on you?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I figured we would just have a quiet night in. No need for the formalities."

You nodded, your hands traveling down to his waist. You felt his body tense slightly when your fingers began to dance along the bare skin under the hem of his shirt.

"Well, I have a surprise for you," you said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

He raised an eyebrow and gave you a curious look. "A surprise? Well, now I'm intrigued."

You laughed and grabbed his hand, leading him to your bedroom. Once inside, you turned and faced him, taking a deep breath before you began to untie your robe. But then you stopped, looking at him with a naughty smirk.

"Take off your shirt," you ordered, your voice suddenly more confident.

He looked surprised by your words, but quickly obliged, pulling the t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

"Hmmm," you smiled as your eyes traveled down his body, appreciating his toned abs and muscular arms, lingering on where a trail of dark hair disappeared into his jeans. "Now the pants."

You watched as his hands moved to unbutton his jeans. He kept his gaze locked on you, his dark eyes filled with lust. Once the pants were undone, he slowly pushed them down, revealing his black boxer briefs and the outline of his half-hard cock.

Your mouth watered at the sight, but you knew this was just the beginning. As much as you wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him senseless, you had a plan, and you were determined to stick to it.

"Get on the bed," you commanded, gesturing to the large mattress behind him.

He climbed onto the bed, sitting back against the pillows and watching you with curiosity. You untied the belt of your robe and let it fall open, revealing the sheer lingerie underneath.

Elijah's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as they traveled over your body.

"Do you like it?" You asked, teasingly running a finger along the edge of the lace trim.

He nodded, unable to speak, his cock already fully hard and straining against his underwear.

"Good, because I want you to do something for me," you said, your voice low and husky.

He nodded again, his gaze fixed on you.

"Take off your underwear and stroke your cock."

You watched him pull his boxer briefs down and wrap his large hand around his thick shaft, slowly stroking himself.

The sight of him pleasuring himself made your own arousal grow. You let your robe drop to the floor and climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs.

He groaned, his eyes never leaving your body as he continued stroking his cock.

"Darling, you are a vision," he breathed, his voice deep and raspy with desire.

You felt heat pooling between your legs, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your lingerie.

You leaned in and kissed him, your tongues battling for dominance as you moaned into his mouth. His other hand came up to grab your ass, pulling you closer.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with lust.

"Touch yourself," he growled, his lips brushing against yours.

"No," you smirked, "I have something else in mind."

You reached over and picked up the rope, which you had placed within reach on the nightstand. You watched his eyes widen, his hand stopping its movements as he stared at the rope.

"Do you want me to tie you up?" He grinned, his hand starting to stroke his cock again.

"I have something else in mind," you repeated.

Elijah raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.

"Hands up," you commanded, leaning back slightly to give him space.

He paused for a moment before lifting his arms above his head, resting them on the pillow behind him.

You brought the rope over his wrists, looping it around and tying them together. He chuckled, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing.

"I never took you for a bondage girl, darling."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," you replied, your tone playful as you pulled the rope tighter.

"Unfortunately I don't think this silk rope will hold me," he said, smirking as he tugged at the restraints.

You ignored him, continuing to tie his wrists to the headboard. Once you were satisfied with the knots, you sat back and admired your work, enjoying the way he looked helpless and at your mercy.

"Oh yeah?" You questioned, trailing a finger down his chest and abs, watching him shiver.

You slowly shrugged off one of the straps of your babydoll, letting the top slide down, exposing one breast.

His eyes fixated on your bare chest, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"Mmmm," you hummed, rolling the hard bud between your fingers, teasing him. Then you did the same with the other strap, pushing the top down until your breasts were completely exposed.

Elijah let out a low moan, his cock twitching against his stomach.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his eyes burning with desire.

"Do you want to touch them daddy?" You cooed, running your hands up and down your breasts.

"Yes," he hissed, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

"Go ahead, tear the rope and touch me."

"Gladly."

He tugged at the rope, once, twice, three times. It didn't budge, much to his surprise.

"How the..." he started to say, looking up at the knotted rope.

"It's just a bit of magic," you smirked, your confidence growing as you watched him struggle.

You knew the ropes wouldn't hold him forever, but you planned on making the most of the time they did.

"Now, where were we?" You leaned forward, bringing your breasts close to his face.

He craned his neck up, trying to capture one of your nipples with his mouth, but you pulled away, denying him.

"Uh uh," you scolded, "You can look, but no touching."

You moved forward again, brushing your breast against his lips. He eagerly opened his mouth, trying to suck on the hardened peak, but you kept it just out of reach.

"I will be free soon enough, little one," he growled, his eyes locking onto yours, "and when I am, you're going to be punished for teasing me."

His words sent a thrill through you, but you remained calm, refusing to show him any signs of weakness.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, daddy?" You asked, taunting him as you rolled your hips, your wetness coating his skin.

He groaned at the sensation, his dark, lust-filled eyes watched as you began to touch his body, teasing and tormenting him.

You raked your nails down his chest and abs, earning a hiss of pleasure. You licked a hot stripe up his neck, biting his earlobe before moving to his lips. You kissed him roughly, your teeth grazing his lower lip, and he moaned, deepening the kiss.

Your hand went to his cock, stroking it slowly as he tried to buck his hips into your touch. You pulled back, smirking at him.

"You're not going to come until I say you can, understood?"

"Yes, my dear," he breathed, his eyes closing in pleasure as you tightened your grip on his shaft.

"Good boy."

You kissed him again, your tongues dancing together as you pumped his cock. He moaned into your mouth, his hips thrusting upwards, desperate for release.

You broke the kiss, looking down at him with a smirk. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to have him.

You positioned yourself over his throbbing member, lining him up with your entrance. You felt a flash of nervousness, not knowing how well you would be able to take him, but the excitement overrode the anxiety.

You lowered yourself down slowly, his thick cock stretching you open, filling you inch by inch.

"Fuck, Elijah," you moaned, burying your face into the crook of his neck, the feeling of him buried so deep, making your legs shake.

He hummed, his biceps straining against the rope as he struggled to break free. You placed your hands on his chest, using him as leverage as you began to ride him.

You knew right away that you were in trouble. Usually Elijah would take the lead, getting you all wet and worked up, he always took his time, and the pleasure he brought was slow and delicious.

But this, being on top and having all the control, was something you hadn't experienced before. It was intense, and you weren't sure if you could handle it.

Your thighs were burning as you lifted yourself up and down, but you were determined to keep going. Your eyes met his and the sight of his pupils blown wide with desire was enough encouragement for you to continue.

You rode him faster, your breath coming in short gasps. You were getting close, so close, but it was somehow all too much and not enough. You didn't think it would be this much work, and you could feel your energy waning.

It was a terrible feeling, finally getting what you wanted and being disappointed by it. You had been so confident, but now your thighs were burning and you were struggling to keep up a steady rhythm.

You looked at the ropes, seeing that they were still secure. There was no way you would be able to finish this yourself. You were going to need help.

"Eli," you whimpered, your nails digging into his chest.

"Yes, my dear," he groaned.

"I-I'm not sure... If I can keep going," you admitted, panting as you struggled to continue, a frustrated tear rolling down your cheek.

"Well, I'm still quite enjoying myself. You look absolutely exquisite like this," he teased, his eyes roaming your body.

"Elijah," you whined, "please. I-I can't."

He gave you a knowing smirk. "If you can't keep up, maybe I should be the one in charge."

"Please," you begged, your face flushing as the humiliation of being denied what you wanted so badly washed over you.

"You created this problem for yourself, little one," he reminded, "but luckily, I'm in a giving mood."

You nodded, grateful that he was willing to help you, even if he did enjoy teasing you about it. You reached up and undid the knots, releasing his hands from their restraints.

As soon as his hands were free, Elijah gripped your hips, flipping you over so he was on top. You yelped in surprise, the sudden change in position leaving you breathless.

"You are such a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "So eager to please."

He kissed you hungrily, his hands exploring your body, his fingers tugging at the hem of your lingerie.

"And this," he murmured against your lips, "is very pretty. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to tear it."

Before you could protest, he ripped the babydoll in half, exposing your entire body to him. He tossed the torn fabric aside, his dark eyes roaming your naked form.

"But it was expensive," you half-protested, even though you were throbbing at the gesture of dominance and disregard.

He growled and pinched your nipple, earning a sharp gasp, then he soothed it with a swirl of his tongue, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"How much did that little magical rope cost you?"

You shuddered, already realizing this was the price you had to pay. You knew he would punish you for this stunt and it turned you on more.

"N-nothing, it was a favor from a friend," you muttered.

He didn't like the vagueness of your answer and took the rope and tied it around your wrists as he started kissing you again, your tongue clashing with his, while his large hand roamed your body, tweaking your nipples, earning a soft moan, and then traveling down south, running his fingertips along your skin, teasing and tickling you softly.

"You are going to do exactly as I say now, understood?" he mumbled against your skin.

"Y-Yes, Daddy," you whined, already desperately bucking against his hand.

Elijah released you, flipping you onto your stomach and dragging you to the head of the bed, tying the rope to the headboard so your arms are stretched high over your head. You were on your knees, and completely under his power.

You heard him rummaging around in his dresser and your heart began beating quickly from nervousness and excitement.

He kissed the back of your neck, the heat of his body warming you, and causing goosebumps to cover your skin. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you and you instinctively arched into his embrace.

"My sweet pet, are you ready to be punished?" he asked as he held one of his ties in front of your face, "Do you have a safe word?"

Your mind raced as he put the tie over your eyes. You quickly selected a word, just in case you needed it, though you sincerely doubted that would happen. Even when he was dominant like this, he always put your pleasure first, but you wanted him to believe you were scared.

"Coffee."

"Excellent," he replied as the smooth fabric was tied tightly around your head.

You tried to lean forward but couldn't move an inch with the rope around your wrists. This rope has successfully restrained Elijah, there was no way you were getting free until he cut you loose.

"I must say… that magic rope is quite a dangerous weapon, a threat to my family." He whispered against your ear, a hint of danger in his voice, sending an excited tingle through you.

You suddenly felt his strong hand wrap tightly around your neck. He wasn't squeezing yet but he was definitely letting you know who's in charge.

"You and I both know how I handle threats to my family," he said, pressing a kiss against your neck.

A moan escaped your lips and you could hear him chuckle. You were so wound up, you weren't sure how long you could take this.

"Stay quiet," Elijah commanded.

As if in punishment, he withdrew his hand from your throat, and you almost immediately missed the feeling of his warm hand against you. A sudden slap to your ass made your body jolt.

It burned from the force of it, his large, powerful palm practically covering your entire cheek. Every sensation was heightened by the tie around your eyes and you felt your whole body heating up, your blood rushing in anticipation of what was to come.

He hit you again, on the same cheek, harder than the last time. The sound of his hand hitting your flesh seemed to fill the room. Tears pooled in your covered eyes, the burning sensation making your body hum in pleasure, mixed with a bit of pain.

You weren't sure if you could handle one more of his heavy-handed swats. Your arms hurt from being pulled high above your head, and your wrists were already chafing.

You heard him reach into your night stand, searching for something that would bring you a different kind of pain. He found what he was looking for, trailing it down your spine. It was cold and smooth, and it made your stomach drop when you realized what it was.

"Eli- wait," you protested, none of this night was going to plan, but this? You had fantasized about it, sure, but this was-

Your mind went blank when he pushed it inside you, and without mercy, he switched it on. It buzzed to life and the sudden onslaught of the vibrations made your legs shake uncontrollably, your wrists burning slightly as you pulled on them.

It was like you were filled with electricity. And the noises you were making? They were a mix of moans and pleas for release, your body already nearing its limit.

His hand was gone, no more spanking and yet- the buzzing didn't stop, you had no release in sight and that's when you realized your mistake. He wasn't going to let you finish, the intention to drive you near your peak only to take you back down.

It was torture.

And you were absolutely loving it.

The minutes seem to tick by, maybe hours. Who knows anymore. All you're aware of is your trembling thighs, sweat glistening your back and your voice, cracking slightly as you scream and moan, writhing at the touch of his hand, then the hard buzzing once again.

"Hmm, we've never tried this setting before," he mused.

"Please Eli-"

He increased the intensity, a loud buzz echoing the room, and a series of vulgar curses escaping your lips, making him laugh.

The vibrator inside you was now pulsing at a rapid pace, the pleasure blinding, building, and there's nothing you can do to prevent the inevitable.

"Don't you dare come," he ordered.

"I can't-" you began, already starting to crumble under his control.

He gave the end of the vibrator a small twist and it hit a new spot that was pure euphoria. You tried to hold on, but it was impossible, your vision went white as an orgasm rocked through you, stealing your breath away, and all of the pent up tension that was burning in the depths of your core.

You let out an ecstasy-laced scream, every fiber in you igniting, every nerve firing at once as an immense surge of pleasure washed through your trembling body, shaking you to the core.

In that moment there was only bliss. The kind of sweet bliss that washes over your exhausted form, turning your limbs to rubber and melting your insides.

Your wrists ached, and you expected Elijah to untie you, but he had gone perfectly still behind you. Your heart began to race, suddenly filled with worry about whether he had become angered by your release. You honestly couldn't undergo another round of his erotic torture and live through it.

The silence and inaction was far worse than any punishment and you felt fear creep up your neck. Suddenly the vibrator turned back on at the max setting and his hand came down hard on your ass once again, leaving it stinging and burning, and tears brimming your lids, even as your body reacted with arousal.

You weren't even sure if your wrists could survive another round and it didn't help that the orgasm had made you sensitive to the point of numbness, but you can already feel your legs shaking, threatening to buckle underneath your exhausted form.

"Daddy, please I can't. I'll pass-" you started, the warning cut off with another slap.

You couldn't do it anymore, your wrists hurt more than the spanking. You remembered Davina had said that the rope could be undone with one word from you. Just as another spank was about to rain down, you rasped out 'confractus' and the rope fell off your wrists. You didn't waste a second, the moment you felt your hands free, you were tugging the blindfold down and pulling the vibrator out of you, tossing it across the bed and collapsing.

Elijah looked a bit shocked by your sudden escape, but that didn't stop him. With you no longer held in the bindings, he took it as another reason to keep punishing you and he grabbed your hips and pulled you underneath him.

His eyes were hard and wild, almost black, and his lips were curled up in a delicious smirk as he locked eyes with yours. The blindfold was held tight against your neck with one hand, keeping the pressure just enough to cause slight discomfort.

But then his eyes flicked to your wrists and the damage that had been done. The burns were deep, almost red and his demeanor changed instantly. His expression went soft, filled with remorse, but his dark, lust-filled eyes didn't change, still heated and primal, and needing release.

"I sometimes forget how delicate you are," he said softly, taking one of your wrists into his hand and giving a gentle kiss.

You flinched a little from the sting of it, watching his apology fill his eyes. You knew his guilt and self loathing was about to start, but before he could pull away, you reached up and grabbed the back of his neck and smashed your lips against his.

"I love when you get like this Eli," you admitted as the kiss broke, "Punishing me, fucking me, owning me. So don't start beating yourself up."

His response was an immediate hot sigh against your lips, relieved that he didn't hurt you.

"You do like the attention, do you?" he teased lightly, nuzzling your nose.

You nod, giving another kiss to the tip of his nose. "Always, but can you make this punishment worth it? It better end in a long, hot shower together or I might pass out," you whispered with a cheeky smile.

His shoulders shook from a silent laugh and his arms moved to either side of your face, caging you in with his warm presence, and you couldn't help the blush that spread through your cheeks as the emotion on his face flickered between the self-hating Elijah to the sweet one that you were in love with.

He ran his hand down your leg, then he lifted your thigh and held it against his hip and slowly, gently eased himself inside you. His lips were inches from and you couldn't look away. His eyes had softened now, and your heart melted at the devotion in them, only meant for you.

He slid his hand to the back of your neck as you clung to his shoulder, meeting him thrust for thrust as the pace gradually quickened. Your toes curled as waves of pleasure washed over you, but you held on this time, waiting for his permission, wanting to find release together.

His lips caressed your neck, his breathing ragged, and his movements became more erratic as his own control began to slip. The low, animalistic sounds rumbling in his chest nearly set you off, but somehow you managed to hang on.

Your mind is a fog, filled with everything Elijah; his smell, his warmth, the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of his heavy breath, his low voice in your ear, his hips moving in a perfect tempo. It was overwhelming, dizzying, and intoxicating. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold out, especially with the way he was whispering your name like a prayer.

Your legs began to tremble again, Elijah knew you were close, and you were being so good for him. He could see the effort your restraint required in the furrow of your brow and the desperation in your eyes, he saw it in the twitching of your fingers and he felt the small spams from the place the two of you are joined.

"You've been such a good girl, come for me sweetheart," he cooed, nipping at your ear.

You closed your eyes and threw your head back. It felt like the earth beneath you cracked open and molten pleasure coursed through your veins, pouring into every cell and nerve, bathing you in absolute bliss.

Elijah kept rocking, dragging out your orgasm and making his own release finally explode throughout every part of him. As the both of you shook from pleasure, he didn't stop kissing you, kissing your cheeks, neck, and nose as the both of you tried to calm down. You clung to his biceps, relishing his touch, trying to calm down your raging heartbeat.

He released you and flipped onto his back, tugging you along, and making sure that you stayed close. You cuddled into his side, giving his chest small, gentle kisses.

He took your wrist, seeing the faint redness where the rope had burned your skin and gave it another tender kiss.

"Don't tell Klaus about the rope, he would not be very pleased to know you and Davina are making weapons behind his back, love."

You snorted and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, "how did you know it was Davina?"

He chuckled and rested his chin on the top of your head.

"Call it an educated guess," he teased and his hand playfully smacked your butt.

You both gave out a little chuckle before falling back into a comfortable silence. Your body had officially given out on you and exhaustion had taken over your form.

Elijah lifted you up out of bed and brought you to the shower, making sure that you were clean of any sticky sweat or traces of what had gone down moments ago. He wrapped his strong arms around you once you were dressed and both cleaned, bringing the covers around both of your bodies before kissing your forehead, and drifting off to sleep, holding you possessively against him.

This night didn't go as you planned, but you did not regret a thing.

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(It may be the hearts causing the issue but I don't want that to be true, so I am in denial)

[abbys-wifey]

my friends sister

pairing: jenna ortega x female reader

warnings: none just fluff

a/n im so gay guys. holy fuck. and jenna is just soooo hot.

I’m not sure when I figured out Jenna wasn’t just my best friends sister. When she became more.

Aliyah didn’t know. I couldn’t do that to her. What kind of friend would I be if I told her I was inexplicably and irrevocably in love with her older sister?

So it has to end, I have to turn her back into just my best friend sisters. Yet, Jenna’s face continues to plague my mind like a bad dream. One that had zero sign of ending.

Running my hands down my face, skin stretching at the pressure I groan and launch myself face first atop my bed.

Why had I promised Aliyah I would stay at hers tonight? Jenna was of course going to be there. I mean she lives there. Fuck.

My phone buzzes under my stomach forcing me to turn over and squint at the messages on my lock screen.

Aliyah of course. Her texts continue to come in as she begs me to come over now with the simple excuse of ‘I’m bored’.

Rolling my eyes doesn’t stop the messages which leaves me with no choice as I respond with an all capitals FINE.

I arrive at Aliyahs house in a little less than ten minutes, texting her a quick ‘I’m here’ before walking towards the front door and knocking.

The door swings open before I can place my hand at my side revealing the one person I did not want to see today.

“Hey,” Jenna smiles as me, her pearl white teeth causing my cheeks to turn red. “Hi.” I remain outside, frozen, as she chuckles. “You can come inside you know .” She shakes her head and opens the door wider allowing me to walk in.

“Right, thanks.” I nod heading into the house I had been in a million times before. “I like your shoes.” Jenna’s voice is soft, glancing at the converse I had on my feet. I frown for a split second, I had worn these shoes to this house for the past four months. “Thanks, I like your… face.” I blurt out, internally slapping myself in the face. But before Jenna can reply Aliyah comes bounding down the stairs and tackles me in a hug basically saving me from extreme embarrassment.

“Dude, I have to show you this crazy ass movie, it’s gonna scare the shit out of you.” Aliyah tugs on my arm pulling me away from Jenna and up the stairs. I glance over my shoulder for a second, instantly blushing as Jenna’s eyes catch my own and her lips turn up in a small smile.

“Ok what movie?” I ask planting myself on Aliyahs bed as she moves her laptop from her desk to beside me. “Well it’s kinda basic but I wanted to watch it. Scream.” She laughs as I raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t Jenna in it?”

“Well yeah but only the fifth and sixth one so we don’t have to see her. Thank god!” She shrugs leaning back against the bed. “Oh yeah…Right, thank god.” I reply following her movements.

Hours pass, the light slowly dimming as we watch Scream 1 to 3 before I hear slight snoring from beside me. “Aliyah.” I whisper turning to see her passed out silhouette. I laugh silently before turning off the laptop and moving it to safety.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to the toilet.” I whisper to no one in particular seeing as Aliyah is sleeping. Creeping out into the dark hallway, I move towards the bathroom before letting out a shriek as a hand grips my shoulder.

Turning on the spot I shove the person into a wall, holding their shoulders tightly. “Hello to you too?” Jenna’s voice makes me cringe as I recognise her, a subtle frown on her face. “You shouldn’t scare people after they have just watched a horror movie.” I breathe placing a hand on my heart after I remove my hands from her shoulders.

Jenna chuckles moving closer to me. “My apologies.” She whispers ghosting her hand over my own. My breathing begins to speed up at the close proximity of our faces in the darkness.

Silence fills the air, the tension so thick I could almost see it. “So, you like my face?” Jenna smirks, her teeth almost glowing in the moonlight. “Oh, uh. That didn’t mean to sound as stalkerish as it did.” I sigh glancing at the floor only for Jenna’s finger to tilt my chin back up to look at her.

“Well for your information I like your face too.” She whispers glancing down at my lips as she does. Her breath tickles my mouth as she leans in closer, our lips basically touching. “Tell me if you don’t want this.” She whispers seriously. “I want this. I want this.” I reply before surging forward and connecting our lips.

Jenna moans against my mouth, her hand rushing to the back of my neck to pull me deeper into the kiss as my hand presses her waist flush against mine. “My room?” Jenna pants pulling away slightly. I bite my lip unsurely as I glance back to Aliyahs room.

“Your sister…” I trail off, Jenna’s hand moves to my cheek, thumb stroking my cheekbone gently. “My sister won’t know, it’s just for a few hours and she’s asleep right?” Jenna smiles.

“Oh, just a few hours?” I frown and Jenna stammers slightly, confidence faltering. “No I just meant like you would only be in my room for a few hours, this,” She gestures to the two of us. “Isn’t just a few hours.” I nod slowly before pressing my lips against hers softly. “Ok.”

Her hand intertwines with mine as she takes me towards her room. Jenna’s quick to close the door as we enter before pressing me down against the bed and crawling on top of me. “Kiss me.” She whispers and I nod not needing any further instructions as I pull her head down to my own connecting our lips.

Waking up the next morning, I groan as the light floods into Jenna’s bedroom. I mumble to myself before turning to the body wrapped around my own. Jenna. Shit. Realisation rushes through me. I never went back to Aliyahs room last night. “Jenna, Jenna wake up.” I gently shake the girl who groans and buries her face into my chest even further. I pause admiring her for a second before a cough from the door way attracts my attention.

“I fucking knew it.” Aliyah stands at the door with her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised, staring at the two of us. My eyes widen as I scramble out of bed effectively waking Jenna up who curses as she catches her sister at the door.

“I knew you two had a thing. Ooh this is so cute.” Aliyah squeals. I pause in my haste to come up with an excuse. “You what- so you aren’t like fuming?” I scoff wrapping my arms around my knees as I bring them to my chest. “Im a little pissed that you didn’t tell me that MY SISTER is the one you are in love with. And Im pissed that Jenna didn’t tell me that my best friend is the person she’s crushing on. But whatever. I think you guys are cute. But if you break her heart Jenna I’ll slaughter you.” Aliyah grins before clapping her hands together and leaving.

“That went better than expected.” I breathe, the anxiety crushing my chest finally disappearing. Jenna simply nods with a smile before moving over to me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

“So your in love with me hmm?”

[sahisan]

★ summary: kuronushi x fem!reader. shibari with kuronushi. 300 followers special.

☆ cw: nsfw. shibari. praise (poetic praise exactly (or smth like that (i tried))). nushi is nice once again. use of 'slut' twice. use of petnames (songbird, darling). creampie. 1133 words.

☾ a/n: this is 300 followers special fic! thank you all so much for this number, ily all.⁠·⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠(⁠>⁠▂⁠<⁠)⁠´⁠¯⁠`⁠·⁠. also REBLOG PLS IM SHADOWBANNED༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

a shaky exhale leaves your mouth as you watch kuronushi's hands - fingers firstly - tie the red ropes of shibari along your body. he glides them along your porcelain skin, cupping both of your bare breasts with the rope, making a perfect knot exactly in between your tits, then heading lower.

the only sounds are your occasional breaths and rustling of the bedsheets, or the sound of him tightening the knots all over you.

he hears how your breath hitches as his lips fleetingly hover over the skin on one of your breasts, and he grins, basically feeling the heat radiating from your figure. you gulp as kuronushi finishes with the ropes on your chest, his face now inches away from your own, and he begins to wrap the red ropes around your neck. you struggle to stay still, but since his thigh is right under your bare sopping cunt, you can't help the urge to grind slightly on it, desperate in getting any sort of friction since he's been on wrapping you in the silk ropes for what felt like ages for you.

one of nushi's hands stops you abruptly, holding your hip tightly enough to interrupt your little doings. "be still so i can drink you in with my eyes." he says into your ear sensually, voice a quiet whisper that sends shivers down your spine. you pout slightly, but stop your movements and try to stay still. he laughs quietly. "what a perfect pout you have."

after a few long moments, you decide to speak up quietly, voice a tad bit raspy. "are you done yet, nushi?.."

"just a bit more, my songbird. a few more knots and..." he replies, coming to tie another unit on your already tied hands to fixate them to the rope that goes from your neck. "there, all done."

you sigh in relief - but it's not really relief when your body is bound by all these red ropes. kuronushi made sure they're not too tight and not too loose.

you feel his hot breath right on your lips, his eyes staring into yours with a grin as the pads of his fingers trace lines on the skin on your back, and you let out a shaky exhale. his gaze moves to your mouth - your lips, exactly.

"your lips remind me of sakura petals. so soft and perfect for kissing." he murmurs, as he leans in to kiss you, pushing you back onto the mattress to finally pin you to the bed.

nushi's poetic phrases never fail to make you blush.

—

you whine when, in-between his slow and deliberate thrusts, kuronushi buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin there as he murmurs the best praise you could've ever heard in your life; that same praise mixed with the poetic phrases from his haiku.

"you're such a treasure..." he whispers, a soft whimper leaving his mouth as the tip of his cock presses onto your cervix, making you moan a loud "nushi-i!.." when breathing out. "so irresistible when i have all the control like this."

his hand glides under your waist, letting his fingers brush against the red ropes that hold your wrists together - his hand creeping lower to hold your lower back with his palm. you arch your back at his touch, making it easier for him to thrust a tad bit faster as he continues to make your skin blend in with the color of the ropes.

"your body- hhah- is a work of art... that i can't stop admiring." he whispers, letting our a small, shaky exhale as he feels the walls of your cunt clenching around his length.

"n-nushi- don't stop.." you mutter, quiet whimpers leaving your lips each time he thrusts his hips forward, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

you wish you could hold him by his shoulders, bring his torso closer and closer until there's no air between your bodies, leave marks from your nails on his back all over, tug on his hair as you sloppily kiss his lips again and again, tongues intertwining together-

-but you're tied. by the damn shibari ropes that you're hopelessly tugging on with your hands and wrists, trying to get closer to him - but no avail.

"someone's trying to escape, huh?" kuronushi whispers, lips now biting on the shell of your ear as he watches you bite your lower lip.

" 'm not- just- ah!.." you moan out loud as he proceeds to thrust into you a bit more roughly now, picking up the pace. you silence yourself by slightly gritting your teeth and biting your lip yet again.

"tsk, no, my darling, keep that pretty mouth opened for me. i want to hear each and every of those lovely sounds of yours." kuronushi chuckles, his thumb coming to rest on your lower lip, sticking it out from the hold of your teeth.

he watches as you comply, and grins. "what a polite slut. you listen so well." he praises, voice getting a dark undertone as his hips continue to keep their rhythm. "what, are you going to cum, sweetheart?" he laughs, a tad bit mockingly, bringing his other thumb to your clit, massaging it to help you with your orgasm. your lips can't keep sealed anymore as you let out little whimpers and whines that start getting more and more uneven when you feel that the tight knot in the pit of your stomach is about to explode.

"nushi, nghh- yes, yes, gonna cum.. please, don't stop..." you mutter, eyelids closing as your body starts to writhe in the hold of the red ropes to get more of his touch.

"go on..." kuronushi taunts, his breathing a bit more erratic as he chases his own release too, thrusts getting more and more impatient at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. "cum on my cock like a good slut."

and that is when that knot inside you explodes. with a loud "nushi!" you tighten and clench around his length, cumming, writhing with your tied body, the shibari ropes adding more to all the friction along your skin. you hear his breath hitching as he feels you bucking you hips into his for a few more moments to ride out the aftermath of your release. a second after that, you sense kuronushi's seed spilling deep inside you, as he cums with a shaky, long whimper, burying his face in your neck as he bites the flesh there, making you squirm under him even more.

"oh... you're exquisite, my songbird." he whispers, breathing heavily in and out. "just as exquisite as the last rays of sun in sunset."

kuronushi will definitely write a new poem once you're both done, but now...

"one more, pretty please?"

[shiorilizzy]

how about Yandere Wriothesley with an insecure female reader that is willing to be with him EVEN suggesting they should have a Baby so he would not leave her (basically obedient Reader

Thank you for asking, I actually love this concept. Sorry if this my headcanons go astray from your request.

Warning: Yandere theme, absolute no beta @@ because my head is full of thoughts but no words come out, Wrio x Clo may not like this one.

Couple: Yandere!Wriothesley x Female!Reader

In my opinion, Wriothesley is also insecure and has trust issues.

He is afraid that someone will take his precious lady. The sight of you getting bored of him and walking away with others is his worst nightmare.

But you are so well-behaved. Even when Wriothesley dragged you down and literally locked you up in his room, your eyes still looked at him so lovingly like he was your whole world.

Having you is like a miracle to him that he thanks Archon every day. It feels like his missing piece.

(You may be every yandere’s dream)

You are his lovely kitty, his treasure, his only exception, his sanity, his obsession, his comfort.

He loves the way you just accept every dark corner of him without hesitation. The more you look at him, the more he wants to spoil and drown you with his love.

Meanwhile, you always think that you are not enough for him. You are scared that someday, Wriothesley will find a smarter, prettier, and maybe from high society, suitable for Wriothesley’s titles.

So you try your best to be a good girl to him, obey everything he says. You know he likes it.

Both of you are insecure, but you have a way of comforting each other so days fly by peacefully.

Until Clorinde comes to the Fortress one day.

You hear Wriothesley’s chuckles and a female voice, so you take a peek inside.

You see a beautiful woman is having tea with him. You realize her. Clorinde is utterly famous in Fontaine. 

The sound of them, smiling and talking, ringing inside your head and tearing your heart. 

You’re drowning in jealousy but you do not dare to jump in and ask.

Later that night, you shyly ask for a baby. 

Wriothesley was surprised at first, but then he noticed your desperate face.

He knew something was wrong. He patiently hugged you and asked.

“Of course darling, anything you want. But can you tell me the reason for this sudden request? Tell me what’s on your cute mind?”

After a while of “interrogating”, he finally understood the situation.

While you blabbing about how you will be more obedient, begging to stay, Wriothesley's mind was on cloud nine.

Oh my Archon, you must be an angel for his gray life. How could he have such a perfect darling like you?

He was so happy that you were willing to do anything just to be with him.

You accept the risk, the responsibility just to be with him, just for the chance that he would not leave you. You trusted him wholeheartedly and only him. What could he ask more? 

 No one has ever needed him like this before. Your jealous, your insecure, your begging made him feel so loved. 

Wriothesley laughed as he hugged you tightly. He looks like the happiest man in the world.

“Silly, if I want to leave you, I can just take the child and push you out.”

“I want to have kids just because I love you. They will not affect my decision of keeping you.”

He told you that Clorinde was just a colleague. He had no feelings for her.

He planted kisses on your face, showing how happy he was and how much he loved you.

“My dear silly kitten, how could I look at others when I have you already? How could I live without you now?”

“You want it or not, I will never let you go, even till the day I die. I will drag you with me. Even the next life and the next next life. You’re bound with me. You cannot escape from me.”

“Besides, I am the one afraid about you running away…”

He soon lit up your mood with his sassy humor. 

Having a loyal lover makes this kinda twisted love completely normal.

Bonus:

After a few days, Clorinde and Navia were invited to a tea party in the Fortress. Clorinde looked at you, sat on Wriothesley’s lap, from top to toe:

“I think I know where all of the factory’s profit goes.”

[forever-rogue]

We’re Magic

AN | Here we have an early morning shower idea come to fruition. Basically - friends to one time lovers to co-parents to ?? Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language, Mentions of Sex and Pregnancy

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Come on Ducky, we’ve gotta go!” you grabbed your young son’s backpack and tried to herd him towards the door. He came bounding the hall, his dark mop of curls bouncing with each step. He quickly flopped himself down onto the floor by the front door, and pulled on his small sneakers. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm for…well, everything. He was such a sweet, happy kid that it served to make you happy as well, “did you put everything you need in your backpack?”

“Yes,” he nodded, slowly creating bunny ears to tie his laces. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he hopped to his feet and took the backpack from your hands, “come on, mama! We gotta go!”

You snorted in amusement as he echoed your words, opening the door so you both could go to the car. You got him all settled and buckled in before going to the driver’s seat and taking a moment to breathe. Herding around a five-year-old with the energy of ten kids was a lot at times. 

“Ready to go?” 

“Mhmm,” he was already staring out of the window at the passing scenery, “do you think daddy will read my new book to me tonight?”

“I don’t think, I know he will,” you imagined the two of them would be equally enthused, “daddy loves reading and I happen to know that the book you picked out is one of his favorites. He’s going to be so excited.”

“That’s good,” you caught his eye in the rearview mirror and gave him a smile, “I wish you could be there too.”

You heart twanged at that and you hesitated for a moment so you didn’t blurt out me too. You tried to keep your expression and tone as even as possible before nodding, “we’ll see, baby. Maybe one day soon we can both put you to bed together.”

“Okay,” the smile on his face reminded you so much of his father. You’d make it happen somehow - the idea of disappointing your son was too much to bear.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Emery held onto your hand as you knocked on the apartment door. A rush of nerves washed over you as you listened for his familiar footsteps. A few moments of silence passed before the door slowly opened.

“Daddy!” the boy immediately dropped your hand and ran and jumped into his father’s arms.

“Emery!” he held onto him tightly, giving him a tight squeeze as the boy threw his arms around his neck, “I missed you, baby.”

“‘missed you too,” he giggled as his father placed giant, sloppy kisses to his cheeks before setting him back down, “did you make pancakes?”

“Blueberry and chocolate chip,” he confirmed as Emery cheered, “why don’t you go to the kitchen and I’ll be right there. I want to talk to mama for a moment.”

“Okay,” Emery turned back to you and hugged your legs tightly as you ran a hand through his soft curls, “bye mama, I love you!”

“I love you too, Ducky,” you kneeled to give him a kiss, “remember your manners and don’t forget about your new book.”

“I won’t!” he took his backpack from you before taking off towards the kitchen. You watched him go, shaking your head in amusement. 

You let out an amused sigh before standing back up, “hey Eddie.”

“Hey,” he leaned against the doorframe, calm and confident as always as he offered a soft smile, “anything important I missed or need to know?”

“Nah,” you shook your head, “you would have known already, trust me. Although he did get a new book he’s super excited to have you read to him, so be prepared.”

“Consider me equally excited,” he grinned as a moment of silence fell over the two of you, “how are you doing?”

“I’m alright,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “just, you know, same old same old. How about you, Eddie?”

“Same, good, yeah,” you could both tell there was more you both wanted to say but neither of you was able to take that to the next step, “it’s good to see you.”

“You see me every other week and or more,” you laughed softly as he just shrugged, “we share a child after all.”

“But we were friends before that,” he reminded you gently, “and I’d like to think we’re still friends. Even now.”

“We are,” you promised, blinking back the few tears that had started to well up, “of course we are…”

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, reaching over to brush a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “everything all right?”

“No - I-I mean yes,” you insisted gently, “I have to go…I, umm, I’ll see you in a few days. Have fun and let me know if you need anything.”

“Of course,” he watched as you turned around to start walking back to your car, “hey - you let me know too, okay? Anything.”

“I will, Eddie,” you held up your hand in a small wave before slowly walking away. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever fully be over your feelings for him. 

It had been years and it hadn’t happened…but maybe one day. Maybe.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few weeks had passed since your…interesting interaction with Eddie. You wouldn’t have called it bad or anything, just…different. The two of you both seemed to keep your distance a little more than normal coming solely about your son. Despite the fact that two of you didn’t hang out or talk a ton anymore, you were missing him. What he had said was right - you’d been friends first for years before you had Emery and you were still friends. Things were just different - complicated. 

This weekend however it would be impossible to avoid Eddie and that worried you just a little bit. It was Steve’s daughter’s eighth birthday and the entire gang and then some were going to be at the Harrington household to celebrate. Naturally, you and Eddie would be there with Emery. It would be fine…right? Right. It was just hanging out with your friends and having your kids hang out and play. What could possibly go wrong?

And it was fine, really, until you volunteered to help clean up the backyard when the majority of everyone else had gone home. You and Eddie were still there along with Robin and Dustin, Steve and wife Samantha and the kids. It was getting late and you didn’t want to leave them to clean up the entire mess so you’d offered to help contain some of the chaos out back. 

You just hadn’t heard Eddie come out back with you. Until you heard a noise behind you, causing you to startle, “Eddie! Jesus, you scared me!”

“Sorry sweetheart,” he smiled sheepishly as you tried to ignore how your heart practically skipped a few beats at the little pet name, “can I help?”

“Of course,” you handed him one of the trash bags and the two of you fell into silence as you worked to clean up the mess. With the two of you working together, it didn’t take long for some order to come back and you sat down on the deck with a small plop, “let’s have Emery’s next birthday party at some other place we’re not responsible for cleanup.”

“I’m sure he’d love that,” Eddie agreed as he sat down next to you. He gently bumped his shoulder into yours causing you to laugh softly at him. You’d missed this, getting along so effortlessly and easily with him. He cleared his throat softly causing you to look at him curiously, “hey, what’s been going on, huh? Is everything okay with us?”

“Of course,” but your answer came too quickly to be entirely true. He waited for you to go and you knew he wouldn’t just let it go, “we’re okay, Eddie. I’ve just been thinking…I guess.”

“About…?”

“Emery…us,” you swallowed thickly, “I…were….did you hate me when I got pregnant?”

“What!?” he barked with laughter for a moment, unable to tell if you were joking or not. Judging from the serious expression on your face, he could tell you weren’t, “w-wait, what do you mean? Of course I didn’t hate you…I could never hate you.”

“But we were best friends,” the corner of your mouth pulled up as you shrugged, “and we just…it was one time and I got pregnant and now we have a son.”

“First of all, you’re still my best friend,” he promised and that set your heart at ease, “and yeah, it was a one time thing that happened when we were both going through it, but in case you forgot, it takes two to get pregnant. It was just as much on me, if not more so. And the son we have? He’s the best fuckin’ kid ever and he’s the best thing that ever happened to me, along with you.”

“Eddie,” you couldn’t help the teary-eyed smile that crossed your features, “that’s really…I feel the same way. There have been times when I wondered if the right thing to do would have been to get an abortion, and if you wanted me to and just never said anything.”

“I would have supported you with whatever you wanted to do,” he reached for your hand and tenderly took it in yours and gave it a squeeze, “and I never secretly hoped you’d get an abortion. I was scared shitless when you found you were pregnant and I never thought I could handle it, but at the same time the idea of being a dad and having that kid with you made it not nearly as scary. It made me excited and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You’re an amazing dad Eddie,” you squeezed his hand in return, “and an excellent co-parent.”

“So I’ve been told!”

“Oh? By who? Got some other kids I don’t know about?”

“Nah,” he shook his head fervently, “just ours. You’ve told me that before, you know.”

“Well, it’s still true,” you turned your body and angled yourself so you were closer to him.

“And you’re an excellent mother,” he leaned in so your faces were only a few inches away from each other, “and the best co-parent too.”

“Thank you…”

“But tell me,” he reached over and gently brushed his knuckles along your cheek, “what’s still going on? I know there’s more you’re not telling me everything…”

“Ummm…” you leaned in closer and you were almost positive that he did the same thing. The tips of your noses brushed and oh my god you were sure he was going to kiss you. And you wanted him to…just as desperately as you wanted to kiss him. 

But then -

“Mama! Daddy!” the sliding glass door and Emery ran out, causing the two of you to quickly pull apart. Eddie’s cheeks were a bright pink as your own face felt incredibly hot and you felt so flustered. Meanwhile, your son didn’t seem to realize that he’d interrupted anything at all, “Uncle Steve said we can have some cream! Can I have ice cream?”

“Sure Ducky,” Eddie beamed at him, “go and get some, we’ll be right inside.”

“Who am I going home with tonight?” he asked, those big brown eyes wide and innocent as ever. You exchanged a look with Eddie and both of you seemed panicked.

“You can go with whoever you want, baby,” you gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. There wasn’t really a strict schedule with the two of you, and he usually ended up spending equal time with both of you.

“I wanna go with you and daddy,” he pouted, the expression on his face so similar to his father’s, “can we all go home together?”

Alright, now you weren’t sure what to say. You decided to make a decision and if Eddie didn’t agree or like it, he would have to speak up. But you hated seeing the upset look on Emery’s face, “sure, baby. Maybe daddy can come home and stay with us at the house tonight?”

Eddie looked at you to make sure you were fully sure of what you were saying. You gave him a slight nod before he practically beamed at you, “of course I can! I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

“Yay!” he hugged the two of you before turning back to run inside, “I’m gonna get ice cream and tell Uncle Steve!”

You watched him disappear back into the house and the two of you exchanged a nervous laugh, “you really sure, sweetheart?”

“It’s like you said, Eddie. We’re still friends and he’s our kid. And I hate seeing him upset.”

“Me too,” he agreed, “it’s the worst. He’s got this little…baby cow eyed thing going on and I can’t handle it. He’s just so…adorable and I’m not biased just because he’s ours.”

“His expression is the exact same as yours,” you pointed out, “why do you think I’ve never been able to say no to you?”

“Ahh,” he slowly stood up and held his hand out to help you up, “we’ll figure it out when we get home, yeah?”

“Of course,” a million things were running through your mind and all of them landed back to how much you loved the two of them, “we always do.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time the three of you got to your small house in the suburbs of Indianapolis, Emery was already halfway to sleep. Eddie gingerly took him out of the car and carried him inside.

"'m tired," the small boy said through a yawn, "will you tuck me in?"

"Duh," Eddie teased as he started walking to his room. You nodded when he glanced back to make sure he wasn't overstepping any boundaries, which he wasn't of course, "come on, Ducky. Let's get you to dreamland."

It didn't take long to get his teeth brushed and into pajamas and Eddie tucked him just how he liked. Before he left the room, Emery called out to him, "daddy?”

"Yes, bud?"

"Will you be here in the morning?" His voice sounded so small and unsure that it made Eddie’s heart break slightly. He knew that all his son wanted was for his parents to be together. He’d expressed that very same thing to him multiple times before. Eddie wondered if he’d ever told you the same thing, “we can all make breakfast together and watch cartoons!”

And if he was being completely honest - Eddie wanted the exact same thing. He’d been in love with since you were fuckin’ children. That had never changed, even when your one night hookup resulted in you getting pregnant. Back then he wanted to tell you that he was in love with you, and that he wanted to be a family together. But he could never tell if you felt the same way so he brushed it all to the side and decided to work on himself and be the best father he could be. He’d always have you in his life and that was the best thing of all - you and Emery. 

“Yeah, Ducky,” Eddie promised him, “I’ll be right here. Get some sleep, okay? I love you lots and lots.”

“Lots and lots,” he yawned before reaching for his stuffed puppy dog, “goodnight, daddy.”

He turned off the light and gently closed the door, before taking a moment to compose himself. The kitchen light was still on so he padded down the hall towards, trying to figure out how to even convey everything that was buzzing around in his head. 

“Hey,” you were drinking a glass of wine and had already pulled another glass for him, “fancy a drink?”

“Sure,” he watched as you poured him a glass and handed it towards him, leaning against the counter, “Emery asked if I’d be here in the morning. He wants all of us to make breakfast together and watch cartoons. I-I can just head out in a little bit and come back around seven…if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t have to leave,” you scoffed at even the mere suggestion of him having to make the same trips for no reason, “there’s the guest room. And of course we can do all that tomorrow, it sounds fun! Maybe we can take him to the zoo later on or something. He’s been asking to go.”

“Y-yeah,” his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest at the idea of spending all that time together as a family, “that sounds great!” 

“He’s been asking for this a lot,” you admitted after taking a big gulp of the sweet wine in your hand, “to spend more time together as a family.”

“I think it’s hard for him to understand,” Eddie said softly, “that we’re not together. It’ll get easier as he gets older…hopefully.”

“Yeah,” you swallowed the lump that welled up in your throat, “but I think that could be fun too…and good for him. He knows we care about each other.”

“We do…” it was so much more than just caring for each other. So much more, “listen-”

“Were you going to kiss me earlier?” and there it was. You couldn’t hold it back any longer - you had to know. 

“I…” he could have lied…but that wasn’t him and honestly? He was so tired of hiding all of his true feelings, “yes. I was going to kiss you.”

“Oh okay,” your mind was reeling as you processed what he had just said and your lack of response caused Eddie to panic and think he said the wrong thing, “I was going to kiss you too. I wanted to.”

“You…you wanted to?”

“Yeah,” you glanced at him for a brief moment and him smiling with a light pink flush creeping into his cheeks, “I’ve been thinking and…fuck, I probably shouldn’t say this but I just, I want to get it out there. Eddie, I’m…I’ve…love. I-I love you.”

“I love you too…” he was trying to figure out if you meant you loved him as your best friend or as the father of your child or if you meant the third option which was that you were in love with him and loved him in all the ways. 

“No, you don’t understand…I’m in love with you,” that was almost two decades of stress removed from your shoulders and you felt so much lighter. It was out in the open now and whether or not anything came of it, the secret was out, “and yeah…now you know.”

“How long?” his response didn’t give you a lot of hope, but then again, you weren’t totally sure what you’d been expecting, “honestly.”

“Since we were like twelve,” your voice was so gentle that he almost didn’t hear it but he did - he’d always heard you, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for, sweetheart?”

“I don’t want to make things weird between us,” you shrugged nervously, “but it’s just…that sometimes I can’t think about anything else, especially when Emery’s asking why we don’t live together and why we’re not like the other parents. I just think about it all the time and then think about how much I fucked it all up!”

“What did you fuck up? You haven’t done anything wrong,” he set his glass down and shuffled so he was standing in front of you and looking at you curiously, “tell me.”

“When we had sex,” you hadn’t even realized tears had run down your cheeks until he wiped them away, “and I got pregnant - I should have told you then. And maybe things would be different now.”

“You’re telling me that you’ve never noticed that I’m in love with you too?” he put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his, “I think I was fourteen when I realized…took me a little bit to catch up.”

“What?”

“Mhmm,” he trailed his fingers along your jaw, “I just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way. When you told me you were pregnant, it was the scariest day of my life…but then I realized things would be okay. There’s no one else I’d rather have a kid with. It was never just sex for me, and it never would have been. Not with you, not with the girl of my dreams. And I thought maybe that would have been the start of our own family. But I never knew if you felt the same way so-”

“I never said anything,” you finished for him and he nodded in agreement. Your mind was reeling with everything he had just said but also stuck on girl of my dreams, “so…have we just been idiots this whole time?”

“I guess so,” he let out a nervous breath as you giggled, “I don’t think our son was so oblivious though. Somehow I think he’s always known.”

“Smart kid.”

“He takes after you,” Eddie joked as you snorted in amusement.

“Well, he looks just like you,” you teased, “imagine being pregnant for nine months and giving birth to your best friend slash baby daddy’s clone.”

“At least you don’t hate me,” he offered as you playfully rolled your eyes, “I have a comment I could make right now but I’m not sure how well it’ll go over.”

“Try me.”

“We’ll make sure the next one looks like you,” he seemed hesitant but when you started laughing he relaxed and laughed too. You ended up looking at him with wide, gentle eyes, “may I kiss you now?”

“For real this time?”

“For real,” he took your face in his hands and studied you for a few, long moments before he pressed his lips to yours. His large, strangely soft and rough hands settled on your waist as you looped your arms around his neck. You let him pull you closer, and found it so easy to kiss him. It was even better than you remembered, and it felt like everything. 

Neither of you wanted to pull apart and refused to do so until you both needed a breath of air. Shy smiles and nervous laughs were exchanged as he pressed his forehead to yours. 

“So, ugh…” you took one of his long curls and wrapped it around your finger, gently playing with it, “umm…we have a lot of stuff to talk about, I think.”

“We do,” he took your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “we do.”

“But, if you don’t want to spend the night in the guest room,” you bit your lip, “you can stay with me in my room.”

“Yeah?” he perked up at the idea. It wasn’t even that his mind immediately went to sex - he wanted to spend every and any bit of time with you that you’d allowed. The sheer intimacy of being together was something so special, “I-I’d like that.”

“C’mon,” you took his hand and started to pull him down the hall to your own room, “it’s late and I’m honestly just tired. And if you want to change, I’ve, ugh, still got some of your clothes.”

“Little thief,” but in reality he was touched that you still held onto them, like you’d always wanted a bit of him around. You shrugged innocently as you pulled him inside and shut the door, “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” you leaned up and kissed him, “and I like hearing it. And now being able to say it freely, “I love you too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next morning you woke up to a small knocking before the bedroom door slowly opened, “mama?”

You sat up slightly and found Emery in the doorway, halfway to looking upset. 

“Hey Ducky,” you motioned for him to come over, “what’s wrong?”

“I can’t find daddy,” he pouted, “he said he’d be here.”

“‘m right here, buddy,” Eddie popped up next to you, causing Emery’s entire face to light up, “I promised you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Can I come in and lay with you?” he was already crawling into bed as you nodded, sliding his way in between you and Eddie. He got under the covers and made himself comfortable before grinning at the two of you, “I like being with both of you. Can we do this all the time?”

“I like it too,” Eddie brushed his hair off his forehead, “I don’t know about all the time but mama and I can talk about it.”

“Maybe we’ll stick to weekends,” you raised an eyebrow at the two of them but they both just started giggling. It wasn’t hard to understand why these two were the lives of your life, “but we’ll see.”

“I love you, mama,” he pretended to squirm away as you kissed him, “I love you, daddy.”

“We love you too,” Eddie looked at you before mouthing the same sentiment to you. You mouthed it right back, without hesitation, “now - let’s get some sleep before we make breakfast and watch cartoons.”

You weren’t sure exactly how things were going to end up or turn out, but you knew that it would be something wonderful. 

You finally had everything you had ever wanted, all in one bed.

 Everything else would fall into place as it was meant to.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 42)

The next few days were spent filling out paperwork, taking a few cognitive tests, and answering questions N was sure Khan already knew. Despite that, Khan had assured him multiple times that this was purely procedure, and he essentially had the job.

It was also spent worrying… each time he came home he'd been drawn to his girlfriend like a moth to a particularly purple flame, as soon as he was in range to hear her core, that warm haze would overtake him, and when he came back to his senses, he was already holding her no matter where she was, a chair, the couch, taking a nap, it did not matter.

It made sense… he loved her. He wanted to be close and it wasn't the closeness that worried him. It was the fact he wouldn't even remember how he ended up there that was the problem, he was walking through the doorway one moment, and curled up tightly against her the next.

He wasn't sure she remembered either, she would often seem to jolt “awake” around the same time as he did, then they'd look at each other, confused.

It was like a mandated cuddle session, and he didn't exactly mind, but some control over when and where would be great, thank you.

“So everything seems to be in order, last thing we need to do is put you through our basic training.” Khan’s voice finally cut through the TV static that was N's thoughts, all of his eyes suddenly focused on the man, which seemed to immediately trip Khan up, even if he wasn't consciously aware of the fact N had seven eyes.

“Basic Training?” He asked, quirking up an eyebrow, wasn't that reserved for stuff like the military?

“Yes! The WDF does more than watch over doors! We're the defacto police force for the colony, we keep an eye on everything! And we need to make sure you're in tip-top physical condition.”

Khan looked N up and down.

“And I tried to tell everyone it was functionally pointless… considering, but everyone wants to see you put through your paces, so thats what were going to do today!”

“Well, okay! I love doing anything?” N agreed, much like he did most of everything in his life, but he wasn't confident, wasn't this normally pretty hard?

“Great!”

Ten Minutes Later…

N was actually… kinda impressed at the obstacle course the WDF had for training, it had a climbing wall, a barbed wire crawl, tire steps, and a rope shimmy. Everything all about enhancing motor control and maneuverability, since strength and speed can't really be improved when you're made out of steel and hydraulic.

The room he'd been lead to was huge, the ceiling curving in a dome shape above them. A group of 20 or so people were on benches not too far away, all wearing WDF badges on different parts of their clothing. Khan led him to the starting line with a clipboard and a timer, looking excited himself.

“Alright! There is a benchmark of three minutes that you have to beat. But that should be no problem for you.”

“Ah… I have wings, should I…?”

“Oh! Yes it's probably best if you… refrain. Just to make it fair.”

Alright, no wings then.

He was nervous, genuinely. He'd never been through actual training before strangly enough. He'd just been… pre-programmed. Or re-programmed, with combat protocols innately.

While he was hunting, combat came naturally almost on autopilot, every sense heightened, reflex sharpened. He'd never enjoyed it, but he'd never had to think about it very hard either.

So, when it came to actually navigating through the course, he wasn't sure if he could without putting himself in ‘hunting mode’.

“Are you ready, son-in-law?”

He rolled his eyes before nodding, he got in a sprinters stance, surely this wouldn't be too hard right?

“Go!”

He shot off, legs beating underneath him as he came up to the tire steps, it felt strange, being bound to the ground instead of flying, and he felt way more clumsy this way then normal… oh well.

His systems charted the path for him, and his legs moved without putting in much conscious effort, then it was on to the barbed wire.

What once was a silent room seemed to fill with murmurs as he went, he threw himself onto his belly and scrambled underneath, he could feel the wire digging into the back of his coat, but he didn't slow down even as he started to sink into the mud.

He emerged out the other side filthy, but now came time to scale the wall, he had to will away the instinctual way his wings wanted to come out, he took a moment to pause, it was a sheer wooden wall, sanded down to remove any grooves or notches to climb up.

This was for workers.

How would a worker get over this?

How would Uzi get over this?

He took several steps backwards, taking a deep breath as his systems calculated his jump.

He got a running start as he pounced on the wall, and kept running, every servo in her legs keeping him upright as he ran up the wall and grabbed the top of it, before hoisting himself up. Murmurs turned to a few tentative cheers.

The final challenge, was a rope shimmy from the top of the wall to the finish line, he could jump down from this height no problem, but at this point, a part of him wanted to prove himself to both Khan and the rest of the WDF that he didn't need his “upgrades” to do this.

He wrapped himself around the rope, tail included, his weight had the rope sag and bend more then intended, which was an extra challenge as he climbed down, turned upside down.

At this point, he heard several whoops from the benches, making him smile despite the fact that his joints were getting a little sore from how quickly he'd been moving, he quickly shimmied down until he hit the final sprint to the finish line, where once again he put every once of power into his legs as he took off in a dead sprint, before he reached the finish line, where he had to dig his claws into the ground to slow down.

He panted, feeling his vents take in air so hard it was producing a low whine, his hands gripped his knees, he was muddy and gross and sweaty (why do robots sweat?!) And his breath was ragged, but he felt a hand slap his back.

“A minute fifteen! New record!” Khan said happily, looking like he had stars in his eyes, N smiled, his hair falling into his visor.

It was abundantly clear that his body had not been designed for anything but ambushing and flying, a more “death from above” then a persistence predator, because his joints were currently screaming “what the heck did you just do?!” at him. He wanted to sit down now…

“Great! U-uggh.” Khan led him over to a chair where he instantly collapsed in it, throwing his head back and not quite caring he was still covered in mud.

“Wow, that was kinda impressive.” A voice said, they were young whoever they were, a masculine voice that sounded like your typical dude-bro at the beach.

“Mm. Thanks.” N didn't have the energy to say anything else, thankfully he was quickly recovering.

Although he might recover faster if he could get a little bit of oil… he had brought it with him.

He put a hand in his pocket and fumbled with the container hidden there, the guy next to him continued speaking.

“N right? I'm Guy, I was the newest recruit before you. My time was 2:15.”

“Doesn't sound bad!” N replied, this guy was friendly at least, he could always get behind that.

He quickly took out his container and took a long gulp, the oil hitting his systems, immediately he felt better, his joints relaxing and his core settling, he sighed as he brought it away from his mouth, his long tongue coming to lick his lips from the access.

Huh… Guy had fallen real quiet all of the sudden

N looked back at the drone who'd been speaking to him, who's red eyes had gone hollow and his mouth slightly agape, N lifted an eyebrow before realizing why, he looked down at his container, slightly stained with oil, being quite obvious what was in it.

“Oh uh. Sorry… just started getting a little warm.” N tried to explain with a smile on his face, trying to be friendly but also succeeding in flashing his now oil-covered fangs.

Guy gulped.

“I-um yeah dude. N-no problem, guess you gotta kick the craving s-somehow.’

N looked confused for a moment.

“It's not really a craving, I just need it so I don't overheat.” He laughed nervously, sensing how tense the air had gotten. “Boiling in your own shell’s not fun.”

Guy was switching between curiosity and fear, tentatively, he seemed to choose between the two.

“What- what does it taste like?” He asked, still stammering but clearly not nearly as put off by it as before.

“The oil? Uh, sweet, this batch is a little earthy I guess, but that depends on where I get it from.”

The stuff in his container right now was actually from the nursery, it didn't taste nearly as metallic as oil from already living (or dead, he guessed) drones, instead having a more earthy, rounded taste.

He kinda preferred it honestly, plus, no one died for it.

“This is from the nursery, my girlfriend picked it up for me when she went for our daughter.”

Guy seemed to relax further.

“Oh, so it's not… you know?”

“N-no, I haven't killed anyone in… months.” He probably didn't need to add that last part, but he felt the need to defend himself, he really wished that people would stop looking at him and seeing… a monster. Even if he couldn't really blame them.

“Cool. Cool.” Guy replied awkwardly, before it seemed he had another question on his mind.

“How's that work?”

“How does what work?”

“You and a worker drone, is she like… pfft, okay?”

N… suddenly didn't like where this was going.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I mean, she's a worker drone right? Don't you have like… murdery instincts? Damn, if she can handle you, she's gotta be a freak in the sheets.”

N felt something white hot broil inside him until it's vitriol was bubbling in his throat, his hand twitched, and he just barely kept a feral growl from escaping his mouth.

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about Uzi that way.” He said, dripping with politeness even as his tail was slowly coiling like a snake, ready to sting the nosy drone if he didn't leave soon.

“Oh shit! Doorman? Damn I knew she was a freak, just didn't know it went that deep!” Guy laughed, N's eye twitched.

Kill him!Kill him! He's a threat! Kill him!

No. No. Don't kill him, do not kill him, you don't like killing, he's not being threatening, he's just being gross.

You must protect them! He speaks of her like she is not yours, kill him! Before he becomes a threat to the kit, to Uzi!

He closed his eyes, clenching his fist before letting his anger roll out of his mouth. Even so he still vibrated with it, unable to truly let it all wash over him.

He'd never felt more angry in his life.

“Guy. Do not talk about her like that.” He was far more firm the second time, his tail was fully coiled, pointed directly at the drones jugular although he didn't seem to notice.

“Ah right. Sorry, sorry, shouldn't talk about another dude's girl like that. My bad.” Guy lifted both his hands, clearly trying to appease him, N would feel more appeased if the man left him alone, preferably on another planet it possible.

“Guy! Get your ass over here before the new guy snaps your neck!” Another member of the WDF called him over, before the man in a yellow hard hat and pink eyelights made his way over to him.

“Sorry, Guy doesn't know when to shut his servo. I'm Hal, what did he say to you that got you looking like murder?”

“I'd… rather not repeat it. He insulted my girlfriend.”

“Oooh, he's lucky it wasn't me, if he'da insulted Reida I woulda rung his scrawny neck.” The drone had a fake, but beautiful beard attached to his face, it was brown, along with is decently long hair.

“Reida?”

“My wife.”

“Ah.”

“Your names N right? or is that a nickname for something?” He asked, he was rather blunt, but nothing about the drone was threatening, he was a boxier, thicker worker model, betraying his age to be closer of that to Khan’s.

“It's Serial Designation N, technically, but just N please.”

“Righto! Glad to have ya! Khan’s talked a lot about you!” His hand came to slap roughly on N's back, it was strong enough to rock him forward slightly and send mud flying in all directions.

“Really?”

“Aye, er well, he's talked nonstop about his grandaughter, and you come up too.”

“That… makes more sense.”

“That means you're with his daughter right? Uzi?”

“That's her.”

“Guy better watch it then, if Khan hears that he's gonna blow a gasket. An so will I to be frank, that girl don't need anymore grief.”

N liked Hal more the longer he talked, he also sounded like a dwarf from one of those movies he and Uzi watched… Lord of the Rings?

“Thank you. I didn't actually want to hurt him.” N said, sighing, he wanted to cover his visor with his hands; but then he'd just get his visor smudgy.

“Yeah ya did.”

“Uh-”

“Don't sweat it kid. We've all been there. Though…”

“Hmm?”

“My Reida woulda kicked his ass first! Hah!”

Next ->

[xxsycamore]

Ok so like hrengtadzk💀

Napo and MC fucking but like the unlocked door. Someone walks in. huehuehuehue

Basically I'm gonna say it again cuz I was being incoherent. Napo and MC run off in the middle of the day (like you said in your public sex hcs about him) and someone does catch them behind a (un)locked. There's people who get off of it me

Pretty that's exhibitionism but somewhat without consent

Ludy your imagination is dangerous

Napoleon + getting caught

Yes, it happens exactly how you pictured it, riding off the waves of excitement brought by the risk, with Napoleon teasing about how "Anyone could walk in, but we don't have to worry because you claimed you can be quiet, isn't that right?", being confident about his own ability to remain alert while fucking you. And truly, he is helping you stay quiet, be it by commanding you to bite the pillow or by clasping his hand tightly around your mouth.

Still, it's bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe he was too worked up and couldn't wait to pounce on you, maybe he fiddled with the key but never actually turned it in the lock... Suddenly the world has narrowed down to the two of you, all heavy breaths and rustling clothing and shallow thrusts that minimize the wet noises of copulation and the sweet nothings he says in your ear, making you toss your head to one side and then the other as if you want to deny the obscene thoughts he puts in your head... and you both get a little too much into it. And the door creaks open, the sound falling on deaf ears, as someone walks in.

Luckily, with those quickies, Napoleon always happens to be on top of you. It's only natural, that way he'd have complete control over every move, and you have to leave it to the commander in the room to conduct his strategy when the stakes are that high. It ends up working in your favor when you get caught in the act. Napoleon is the first to react, senses sharpened with years in the making from his past life, and even though his muscles tense, he remains completely still, shielding you with his body. You might have a more jumpy reaction, but he's got you in his grasp, knowing that it's best for you to remain where you are rather than try to crawl out from underneath him.

Not that the unfortunate resident who walked in would stay for long enough that you and Napoleon have to consider separating from each other. The guy excuses himself in the very next second and is out of sight before you can get a grasp of what's happening. You probably missed it, but it was something in Napoleon's eyes that drove him away. The door is slammed shut again and Napoleon is still buried inside you.

For someone who is always making himself available and cares deeply about helping his housemates, you understand that if that person remained just a second longer here, it would have meant that the mansion was burning down. At the very least.

Now, his following actions would be completely decided by your own reaction to what happened. He'll get on his elbows to have a better look at your face, he'll caress it and ask if you're alright. He'll say he's sorry for being so reckless. He will not touch you anymore if you got turned off by it.

But if you didn't... if you let him know that you're genuinely okay with what happened, if you rock your hips into his and show him how much you want him still... he won't be able to hold back anymore. He'll pin your hands down to the bed and fuck into you with new vigor, not even understanding himself in that moment. It could be his possessiveness clawing at him, making him want to erase the other person's presence from your mind completely. Even if they likely didn't get a glimpse of anything else than your face, isn't that enough to feel jealous over? Those are the lewd expressions that you do only for him. Noone else gets to see them.

Or maybe that's exactly what he achieved. By showing how much he owned you in that moment.

As a whole, it's pretty much hit or miss for him - largely decided by his partner's reaction to it, but also because the pleasure he gets out of it is momentarily and he'd be thinking about it afterward with an aftertaste of jealousy and regret in his mouth. He's not going to feel awkward facing the resident afterwards but he might still have to mention something about it, depending on who it was.

The situation ranges from Arthur's flirty "ohhh, space for one more ;) ?" (he's just trying to make it less awkward before he walks out of the room. i think.) to Isaac being traumatized for at least a week, to Sebastian rushing to his room to write in his diary, to Theo complaining out loud while he walks away about how he already has to be mindful of the same thing happening with Arthur and how he's this close to moving out.

5/10 "Liar. You're saying you liked it just a little bit, but I felt you tightening around me. Is this turning you on that much? Being watched as I take you? Do you wish they'd stayed longer, so you can make it clear to them how I'm the only one who can claim you, leave you well-loved and leaking my cum? You'll regret leaving me with this information, Nunuche."

-> (ALWAYS OPEN) send me a kink & I’ll give you a headcanon and rating for Napoleon!

🦶foot fetish 🥵breeding kink 🥕pregging 😈dom/sub 🍈breast kink ⛓bondage 🩸period kink 👄marking 🐺predator/prey 🏙public sex 🤗praise kink 👅 cunnilingus 🍌blowjobs (receiving)

[bloodweep]

Pleaseeeeee write more Floyd omg I'm so in love with the way you write <3333

AHH thank you, he’s so bb I love him so so much ,,,

This is been my little brainrot for a bit all day yesterday:

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Mistletoe ࿐ྂ

Floyd never felt so giddy like he did today, well, perhaps not as much as he felt when he was reunited with his brothers but it was close. His cheeks burned a soft purple constantly since he’s been up, the flush sometimes adventuring to his ears and down his neck, he was sure his chest was covered too but he would like to pretend no one could see. Or maybe people did see and didn’t care to point it out as many were doing the same thing.

He held the present close to his chest, his ears wiggling and flattening out as he buried his small snout into it, inhaling the scent softly as his tail wagged behind himself. He felt overwhelmed, not sure how to go about anything and inhaling the soft cinnamon scent of the wrapping and bow he used did help ground him. With a soft sigh he lifted his head back up, fixed his furred collar of his jacket vest around his neck - in attempt to cover the blush traveling down rather than the cold, his brothers never were really affected by it like the other fellow pop trolls.

However his feet didn’t move still, he felt planted in place, it was just exchanging gifts right? There wasn’t anything too difficult with it? But to him, it meant and felt so much more to him, like it was so much more special to give this gift to you. He’s used to giving gifts to others all the time, but he couldn’t help but feel a little dejected if you didn’t like it.

He was taken out of his internal stupor when you called out to him, your hands waving in the air as you jumped up and down. He smiled, his teeth coming over his lower lip to show off his teeth, his tiny little fangs digging into the flesh slightly. “Floyd!” You called, making a few flinch and look at you with how loud you were, but you didn’t care as you bounded over to him. He couldn’t help but giggle a little; you were completely bundled up, a cute little hat over your hair that made it spill around your face and neck, some cute ear muffs on top of it - he could feel his own ears melting off with his warm yours must be - you had this cutest little scarf around your neck, the tails fluttering in the wind as you ran over to him, a thick fur jacket that was buttoned and zipped all the way up, thick pants and topped off thick furred boots. The only thing missing was the mittens, he would be dying of heat stroke if he wore all that. Compared to him, it seems you were about to travel to the Antarctic.

“Hello,” he called out, his arms opening up to invite you in for a hug, knowing it was going to happen anyways, the present clutched tightly in his left hand, without hesitation you bounded into his arms. Your feet planted on his hips as you forced him to bend backwards as you hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around your waist tightly so you wouldn’t force them to fall backwards on the snowy ground and you wouldn’t fell off of him.

“Oh I missed you!” You exclaimed hugging around his neck tightly and rubbing your cheeks together lazily. “It’s been since yesterday,” he murmured out, sighing in content at the closeness even if the extra warmth from the fur was making him heat up a bit more. “I missed you more,” he admitted before gently setting you down on the ground before looking you over. “Aren’t you hot?” He laughed his head tightly slightly. You shook your head, “oh gosh no; I’m so cold,” you giggled rubbing your hands together. “I can’t find my mittens and my hands are so so cold I feel like they are going to freeze off,” you whined out.

You paused looking over Floyd in shock; only seeing his furry vest jacket, even more appalled to see he was still wearing his belt and shorts and no shoes. Your mouth was basically through the ground at this point. “Oh my god!” You nearly screeched your hands coming up to grip his face, nails skimming his ears and making him shudder. You moved his head around examining him, your eyes so wide. “How are you not cold?” You asked waiting for a response.

Floyd shook his head gently, “I am not, my brothers and I can withstand the cold better,” he replied nearly breathless, he wasn’t used to you being this concerned for him and being in his face like this. “Well screw you,” you laughed out shaking your head. “Oh!” You replied giving him whiplash as you looked at his hand to the present. “Who is that for?” You asked his head tilting lazily, a soft smile on your lips, which was different compared to your teasing one.

He stuttered a little before bringing it to you; “it’s.. for you” he replied softly his eyes downcast to the ground afraid to see your reaction. You paused before gently grabbing it, “you didn’t have to,” you whispered. You tore into the paper before sniffing softly “cinnamon?” You questioned.

“The scent reminds me of you,” he whispered his ears turning a deep purple now. You blushed lightly at them before going back to your present. Once the paper was off you opened the box and gasping. What laid there was a beautiful handmade mittens, hat, jacket, boots, with a little note on top with Floyd’s elegant handwritten with a heart. You grasped the note and opened it with one hand.

‘For you, my dear, I hope these bring you all the warm and comfort while the weather continues to try to dwindle your brightness

- Love

Floyd’

Another box inside the box caught your eye too before you could get all sentimental about the card, but you did put the card into your pocket and patted it softly. You set the box of new clothes down before grabbing that one with box hands and gently opening it. In that box was a beautiful necklace, coated in sapphire and diamonds with a beautiful elegant rose quartz that hung on a chain so it could rest over your heart. Tears coated your face now as you lifting it up out of the box, letting the box drop as you held the necklace to your chest. Floyd look at you worriedly grasping your face in his hands so gently to look you over.

“Oh please don’t cry, do you not like it?” He asked worriedly chewing his lower lip after but you shook your head. “Oh Floyd I love it,” you sniffled pushing your hand up between his hand and your cheek to push the necklace in his palm. “Put it on me please,” you breathed out. He let out a shaky exhale before nodding, moving closer so his nose brushed yours and gently began to clasp it asking your neck. “I found the gems and made it myself,” he murmured. This brought more tears down your cheeks, you never had someone do this for you.

Once he was done with the clasp he brought his hand down to place the rose quartz over your heart and leaving his hand there. You looked him in the eyes before looking up trying to content your emotions.

“Oh Floyd look,” you whispered pointing up to the branches above. “A mistletoe,” you beamed, grasping his ears and pulling him in, you pressed your lips softly to his, your ears closing. He responded back so quickly, his hands sliding down to your waist and holding you tightly and swaying.

“This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” you whispered into the kiss making him beam. He gently picked you off of the ground and spun around slowly. He didn’t even know why he was nervous about you accepting his gifts.

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

He’s so soft it makes me heart warm

[dearest-painter]

How much time has passed.. PT.1

Summary: Y/N is tired…they’ve forgotten how long it’s been since they weren’t tired or with their friends…they’ve forgotten how long they’ve been stuck in this spider society that they want nothing to do with. When Y/N says fuck it and helps their old friend out it causes problems with people who wanted them as their child

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Reader is Peni Parker,Reader is burnt out and sleep deprived,Reader talks to themselves in a silent tone,very out of character characters,this is a series,Reader fixed their robot,Reader is unwillingly in the spider society and has destroyed her watch with an amount of 8 times,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

PT.2

Yawing as you stretched from your hammock or web hammock, you fixed your tie and cardigan you got down from the hammock. Grabbing your robots suitcase you decided to go to the spider society’s cafeteria as you were hungry. How long have you been asleep? 15 minutes? An hour? A day? Who knows at this point. “Hey little one!” You waved at the spider-people passing you with a half tired and half asleep smile, you didn’t like being here but Miguel forces you to be in the spider society.

You got some food and sat down eating it and drinking coffee. Recently sleep has been more difficult in both waking up and falling asleep, ever since you and your friends parted ways so much things happened. Peter B got a baby, Gwen is best friends with Hobie which is understandable, and Spider-Noir isn’t really seen at spider society. Oh miles your absolute best friend isn’t even allowed to be in spider society for something he never asked at all!

Miguel tried calling your phone but all you did was stare at it, Miguel has been getting more annoying lately and you didn’t wanna deal with it damnit! Getting up you went to your little hideout but once you sat down Mile immediately hide behind the desk in your hideout. You two stared at each other for some time before you started laughing then lunged and hugged him, he hugged you back quickly and tightly. You both started laughing as you rolled around on the ground.

“Mil! Oh my goodness it’s been so long! How’ve you been!?” “I’ve been well! Oh you look so tired are you getting enough sleep N/N?” “Sorta, more problems in my universe and I guess I have insomnia or something but are you hurt at all!?” “No no I just ran away from some crazy people” “oh my god!” He nodded his head he chuckled. You two decided to play some video games as neither of you wanted to take the risk of leaving as everyone was looking for Miguel.

Soon Hobie and Gwen saw you two dancing. “Fuck you stepped on my foot Y/N!” “I told you I got to left feet the fuck did you expect!?” They way you two laughed it was honestly adorable or in Hobie’s eyes it was while in Gwen’s she was jealous as not everyone can make you laugh now a days! “Okay one more time okay!” “Okay but next time you step on my foot Imma throw my damn mask at you” “Pussy” Miles took his mask off and threw it at your face making you laugh. “Oh Hobie, Gwen..Hi” Miles waved and you just nodded your head as you put on Miles’s mask.

“Never knew you could laugh Y/N, you should try it more but I ain’t forcing ya” You chuckled at Hobie’s comment, he always made sure to make everyone comfortable while sticking to his beliefs which you idolize a bit. “Well Miles is sorta my best friend, he knows all the words or pranks to make me laugh” “Hey someone’s gotta do it and I don’t plan on letting anyone take that place!” Miles tried getting his mask off of you but you kept dodging and giggling until it was a full on chase. “Gwen you’ve been quite..why?” “Nothing it’s just…I’m jealous that Miles can make them smile, laugh, or giggle after not seeing them for so long while I’ve tired my best!” Hobie sighed. “Listen, their close. Their basically siblings, their bound will be stronger then other bounds. Nothing people will do or say can break them apart. Seeing each other after so long their bound becomes stronger and tighter…ya feel?”

She didn’t, she was still jealous but sighed and pretended she understood. “Yeah…thanks Hobie” “No probs” the two watch how miles and you play fought with him trying to grab his mask and you giggling while swatting his hands away. It was a cute sight honestly.

[lendeah]

bound by duty, haunted by dreams

chapter 1

Summary: You hated him —his selfishness, egocentrism, and lack of morals. He represented everything you stood against. But then, why was he the one plaguing your dreams night after night? Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav Word Count: 2.5k Tags: Enemies to Lovers, they really hate each other, Human! Tav , Paladin! Tav , Mind Manipulation, eventual smut.

a/n: I don't know if I will write more of this or I will leave it as a two shot! I probably will. LMK if you enjoy it :)

AO3 link

You detested him. You knew your oath was to love every person, despite their past, despite their beliefs, despite... everything, basically. But you couldn't. Stand. Him. His very presence irked you, sending prickles of discomfort crawling up your spine. That smug, self-righteous smirk. His constant complaints. His utter disgust for all living beings except himself. But the worst of all was his horrible and overt attempts at flirting. It almost made you gag.

You could tell that he felt the same way towards you, judging by the constant sour glances he shot your way at camp. He would sneer when you offered help to those in need and make sly remarks after showing kindness towards your companions. It seemed like everything you stood for was the very antithesis of his beliefs.

At first, you thought you just had to get to know him. You can't judge a book by its cover, after all. But the more time you spent around him, the less you liked him. And it all came crashing down when you had the worst argument about the tiefling situation. The coward wanted us to leave them in the middle of the night! Oh, and rob them of every valuable in order to have money for the trip!

As much as you detested each other, you couldn't deny the fact that you were both in the same boat. Literally. The cursed tadpole had tethered your fates together, forcing you to work together to find a cure. And then there was the oath to Ilmater, the deity of compassion and endurance, which bound you to show kindness and mercy towards all beings.

Your oath did not include being spiteful, but whenever he was near, all you could think about was kicking his-

"Soldier, if you keep looking at him I am afraid he is going to grow another head."

Karlach was giving you a funny look from across the fire. You huffed in annoyance, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you sipped on the stew. The two of you were the last ones having dinner, as the rest of the party had either retired for the night or were on watch duty. This was why Astarion was also lingering around. You tried to ignore his presence, focusing on the warmth of the fire and the comforting taste of the stew. But your eyes kept drifting towards him - the source of all your frustration.

"Maybe that would make him bearable to be around, or maybe they would just argue with each other so much I wouldn't have to listen to either."

"Or they would end up tearing each other apart like rabid animals, competing for attention," she laughed.

You couldn't help but let out a small smile at Karlach's joke, the tension between you and him momentarily forgotten.

"I don't know how much longer I can take it," you grumbled, poking at your stew with your spoon.

"You know wha' we need t'do to get rid o' each other? Find a cure for 'is damn tadpole," Karlach mumbled through a mouthful of food. What was it, her fourth bowl of stew?

She gulped, "Why do you hate him so much anyway?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling your shoulders slump. "I don't hate him. I just can't stand him," you admitted, your voice laced with annoyance. "He's always so smug and heighty, so selfish. And I loathe selfishness. And the way he looks at me like...like I'm some kind of nuisance."

Karlach raised an eyebrow, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth.

"Well, I can't argue with any of that; he does tend to have a stick up his ass. But, to play devil's advocate, he is quite funny and nice when you get to know him."

You scoffed at Karlach's words, shaking your head. "I highly doubt that," you muttered under your breath.

Karlach rolled her eyes, leaning forward to speak closer to you,

"Look, I bet he's just a big softie underneath all that... exterior. So try playing nice for once, maybe you'll see a different side of him. We need him on our team, even if he's not the easiest to get along with." Karlach reminded you.

You raised an eyebrow at Karlach's suggestion, not sure if you were ready to try being nice to him. But then again, Karlach did have a point. It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

You sighed, feeling a tinge of guilt at the thought that maybe you weren't giving him a chance. People usually liked you - maybe you just hadn't put in enough effort with him.

"Fine. I'll try," you grumbled, still not fully convinced.

Karlach grinned triumphantly, little flames dancing around her body. "That's the spirit, soldier!" she exclaimed, raising her bowl of stew in a mock salute.

You turned around and found he was still there, distractedly looking at his nails.

Ugh, this was going to be difficult.

He caught your eye momentarily, a slight raise of his eyebrow before nonchalantly turning and striding towards his tent.

It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, you bid Karlach a goodnight and began walking towards the elf.

"Hey, Astarion," you called out once you reached his tent.

In a swift motion, he spun around and gave you an assessing look. For a moment, his piercing eyes glinted red, causing a mix of fear and irritation to wash over you.

"Yes?" he asked, his tone polite but dismissive.

Ugh. You wanted to punch his face already.

But instead, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm.

"I just wanted to say... thank you," you said. Yeah, gratitude. Everyone likes gratitude.

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your words, but he quickly composed himself.

"Thank me? I must warn you now, if what you intend is to lecture me about my behaviour it will be all for nought." His words dripped with arrogance he made no attempt to hide it.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his pompous attitude.

"No, I just wanted to express my gratitude..." For what? What had he actually done besides constantly complaining and giving disapproving looks at your every decision? "...for staying awake at night to keep watch." Yes, that would suffice.

Astarion narrowed his red eyes and his lips quirked with genuine confusion.

"Why thank you very much, but I am not a child to be lauded for performing the most basic act of the task I have been assigned," Astarion replied, a hint of smugness in his voice. "Then again, I guess your whole 'selfless Paladin nature' compels you to praise me. You looked like it was about to tear you up to do so, I might say. It was quite amusing to witness."

"I'm just trying to be polite," you replied, keeping your tone flat. "Not that you know the meaning of it, anyway."

His grin widened as he stepped closer to you, his tone teasing, "I do so like it when you try so hard to maintain that decorum of yours. Though you would do well to keep practicing. Your good intentions do not excuse the self-righteous stick up your ass."

This motherf-

You gritted your teeth and resisted the urge to punch him in the face. He always seemed to enjoy provoking a reaction out of you.

"I'm not here to argue with you."

"No, you are here to bother me. Which is having the opposite effect of what I am sure you hoped."

"Oh, you are insufferable!" you clenched your fists, the anger evident in your voice.

As you walked away, you could feel his gaze burning into your back. You wanted to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, but you knew it was pointless. Instead, you headed towards your tent and forcefully zipped the flap closed behind you, letting out a frustrated groan.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. This was not the first time Astarion had gotten under your skin, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. You reminded yourself of your oath. Ilmater. Empathy, sympathy and forgiveness. Ugh. It was hard, especially when dealing with someone like him.

But it was your sacred duty to show compassion and mercy to all, even those who seemed undeserving of it. You took another deep breath , composing yourself. You had faced way worse back home. This was nothing. Just an arrogant aristocrat. If he refused your help, so be it. You would turn your attention to those who were truly in need.

You snuggled deep into your bedroll, the soft fabric enveloping you like a cocoon. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes. Tomorrow would be a better day, you were sure.

As sleep came to you, dreams began weaving their way into your consciousness. Suddenly, you weren't in your bedroll anymore, but in the middle of a beautiful, glittering forest. An ethereal light danced around the tall trees and a clear stream ran through it, its water shimmering with tiny specks of silver.

A rustle in the dense foliage caught your attention, causing you to turn and see Astarion. He appeared like a phantom, emerging from your own thoughts with his white hair cascading around his face like a halo.

Great, now he is also hunting my dreams.

The illusion of Astarion turned around, his expression a mix of confusion and bewilderment as his eyes locked onto your figure. It was as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Well, that makes two of us, you told yourself.

"If it isn't Calendula, the noble paladin, sauntering over," Astarion said, his smirk evident even in the dark.

You cringed at the use of your full name, a jab that he knew would get under your skin.

"Astarion," you greeted him flatly. "I see even my dreams aren't safe from your onslaught."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion "Dreams? What do you-" And then his face lit up. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes and a sly smile spread across his lips, showing his pointed canines. What in the sweet hells is going through his mind? Well, my mind.

Astarion stepped closer, his eyes scanning you up and down. "Well well, I see my charms finally beginning to work on you, my dear paladin." You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "In your dreams, Astarion." "Ah but this is your dream, darling. And I must say, it's quite a lovely one," he said, dragging a fingertip along one of the plants.

You let out an exasperated sigh.

"I can't believe this is what my brain settled for in a good night of sleep."

"Oh come now" He said taking another step closer, his head tilted slightly, "If you truly wanted a peaceful, pleasant dream you would have imagined the sun shining brightly and a beautiful castle or a field of flowers or... whatever it is you paladins enjoy. But your brain, in the dark depths of the night seeks me and only me."

You scoffed at his words. "How do you even know what I do or do not want anyway? You are a product of my brain."

His fingers finally made contact with your skin, his touch icy cold and sending shivers down your spine. It felt so real, you couldn't help but wonder if this was really just a dream.

"I am but a product of your imagination, darling. But exactly because of that, I can feel your desires, your fantasies, your deepest thoughts." he smirked, "And darling, I know that I am what you desire."

Was he? He was a creation of your own mind, therefore he was essentially a part of yourself. But then again, if he was a part of you, did that mean the words he spoke were a reflection of your own truth? It was all so confusing and overwhelming.

Despite your doubts, you couldn't help but steal glances at him - the mole on his cheek, the slope of his shoulders, the curve of his smile. He was undeniably attractive, almost too good to be true. It wasn't so far fetched to think your mind had recreated him. However, you wished it had made him mute.

"I don't desire you," you repeated firmly, trying to convince yourself more than him.

"Ah, and there is that noble pride again. Do you truly believe that your self-denying nature means you haven't thought of me? Of us?" He stepped closer until he was inches away."Tell me, have you ever had any impure thoughts? Thoughts that go against everything Ilmater stands for?"

Your heart raced at his words, eyes widening in shock. Pink lips against yours, teeth piercing soft skin, cold hands up your...

Stop.

You paused briefly before answering. "No, I follow the teachings of Ilmater which guide me towards virtue and moral uprightness. However, I am not bound by a vow of celibacy. I simply direct all of my focus towards my devotion."

Astarion's smirk grew wider at your statement, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, but it's ok," he whispered, "I know your thoughts. I have seen them, deep inside your mind. I know you want to know how it feels to be touched, to be loved and worshipped back."

The realism was uncanny, right from the soft fur lining of his cloak to the scent of him - leather and pine with a hint of musky sweetness. It was just like the real Astarion, perfectly irritating and irresistible all at once. His presence was intoxicating and you found yourself wanting to lean into his touch.

This is a dream. None of this is real. Astarion wasn't here. He wasn't stepping closer to you again; he wasn't bringing his face dangerously near yours; he wasn't placing his hand on your waist pulling you closer till there was no space left between your bodies.

You could feel his lips almost brushing along your neck. He ran a hand up to the back of your head, fingers weaving into your curls, his voice a low murmur. "Tell me, dearest, what happens when your body desires things your mind believes are wrong?"

You gulped, your hands fisted at your sides, "I-I don't know."

"Do you want to find out?" Astarion's lips grazed your skin again, sending sparks of desire through your body. "I've always found that when the body and the mind disagree... it's always best to follow the body."

Your breath was ragged, brain scrambling for a semblance of sense. You knew you were going to give in. It's just a dream, you told yourself.

No consequences, no judgments.

Just as you were on the brink of surrender, a sudden and sharp tug jolted you from your slumber. Your eyes flew open to reveal the familiar surroundings of your tent. You were back in back in your bedroll, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. A throbbing headache pulsed through your skull.

Today didn't feel better at all.

a/n: hope you liked it! Lmk if you want to be added to a taglist☺️🫶🏻

[mouwrites]

HII POOKIEE!! I wanted to request something for ninjago if that was okay with you😋

Basically hc's about all of the main ninja having a rocky relationship with the reader who is their little sister. They have a rocky relationship bc of things that happen in the past (like family issues that they blame each other for ya feel me?) and it leads to them having arguments in the present. Sometimes it gets so bad they have full on arguments where they yell at each other and blame each other for that specific event in the past(and for some scenarios the fighting gets so intense the other ninja have to break them up😋.) In the end however they reflect on the past and apologize to one other and that's the starting step of fixing their relationship as siblings. (also you can choose if you want kai and nya to be in the same scenario or different ones whatever is easier for you🤍🤍)

Hopefully that made sense I'm so sorry if it didn't!! Anyways have a nice day/night pookie and remember to drink water.🤍🤍

Of course lovebug!! You sweet thing,,,,

This turned out pretty long, so settle in campers

Ninjago - Elemental Masters' Rocky Relationship with Their Little Sister

Zane

(you're the adoptive daughter of Dr. Julien)

You were human. He was a robot. Issues were bound to arise

Ever since you were young, you always competed for Dr. Julien's attention

Though it was never spoken, you both felt that you were his real kid, and your sibling was not

You saw it as a huge win when Zane's memory switch was flipped and he was cast out of your lives

You stayed with Dr. Julien, finally feeling like his real child

But as the years passed, you found yourself missing Zane more and more

When you reunited, it was the happiest day of all of your lives

The three of you cried and hugged more than you'd ever done before or since

For a while it was perfect... too perfect

You didn't compete for Dr. Julien's attention anymore, but you didn't exactly talk it out either

When Dr. Julien died, the problems sprang back

In your grief, both of you took it out on each other

"You were always his favorite! All those years, you know what he talked about? 'Zane, Zane, Zane!' It made me sick! And where were you?! Not there! Not with us!"

"You think I wanted to go away? Do you even know the pain I went through? You wouldn't understand; you're a human. And all the while you were living happily ever after with him!"

It was off-putting for the others, seeing Zane so angry so often

They hated seeing him like this, so they devised a plan

One night, you were told to head to the TV room to watch a movie

It was dark when you entered, and someone locked the door behind you

The lights turned on, and Zane was on the couch

You were both shocked to see each other

He had been told the same thing as you

But you both had been duped! :O

Before you could bark anything at him, and before he could spit anything at you, the TV turned on

One of Dr. Julien's videos he filmed when you were both young started playing

He was laughing, trying to hold the camera still as you tugged on his arm

"I wanna tell Zane I love him too!"

"Hold on, Y/n, I've only just pressed the record button... Hahaha, okay, okay, you win! Here."

"Zane, I looooveee youuu!! Even though you're made of metal, you're still my brother and, and, and I don't want another one, even if he's human."

When the tape cut, you both glanced over at each other

Your eyes were filled with sorrow, your former hostility forgotten

You got to talking about your childhood, especially your memories with Dr. Julien

The talk ended with you two hugging tightly, not saying anything more

There was so much more to discuss, but you both knew that this was a good start to fixing what you once had

Cole

Growing up, you were both begrudging dancers

You bonded over sore feet and hating dance competitions, and you were thick as thieves

But as the years went by, you saw Cole's contempt shine through more and more

When he said he was going away to an art school to continue to study dance, you knew he was lying

It made you angry that he wasn't as devoted to dancing as you were

Sure, you didn't really like it either, but it's what you were raised on

Besides, it made your father so happy to see his kids dancing on a stage

Didn't he see it? Why would he just walk away from dancing? He didn't hate it any more than you did, and he was far from talentless

Letters from Cole were few and far between, and you felt a pang of rage whenever your father would read them aloud at dinner

Here you were, working your bones to dust to become the skilled dancer your father wanted you to be, while he was out there doing lord knows what

AND he was lying about it; that was what really got you

You started sending letters back in secret, berating him harshly for lying and interrogating him about what he was really up to

He ignored your letters, but started slipping snide comments into the ones he sent to your father

He must have known that they would be read aloud to you

You returned the snarkyness tenfold in your letters, and things only escalated as years passed

When he finally took the time to visit home, your blood was absolutely BOILING

He was so obviously lying about everything! Why didn't your father see it sooner?

You both put on friendly faces in front of him, but when you were alone the tension culminated

You exploded at him about abandoning you and your family's legacy

He exploded at you about being so cold to him for doing what you didn't have the courage to do

"You think I want to dance? No! But do you see me running off with some weirdos, punching and kicking other weirdos? No!"

"You're just mad because I'm happy now! Or is being dad's perfect little ballerina really just so satisfying for you?"

The argument ended abruptly when you burst into tears

He was right, and you hated it

He softened when he saw you crying; he knew that, all these years, you were really just taking out your fears and frustrations on him

But that didn't excuse your behavior, nor did it excuse the way he reflected your aggression right back

Gritting his teeth and huffing, he put out a hand for you to take

"I'm... sorry."

You looked at him, surprised

Seeing him made you remember how close you used to be

You wanted that again. You wanted him to show you how to be happy like he was

"Me too. It wasn't right, what I did to you. Can we start over?"

"I can't forget what you did. But I can forgive you. I think."

It would take time, but it would happen. That's all you really wanted.

Kai and Nya

You felt left behind

At first, when Kai started training to be a ninja, you still had Nya to share your woes

But then she started getting secretive

You noticed the muscles in her arms becoming toned; more toned than they should've been from basic mechanic work

You knew something was up, and your suspicions were proven right when you discovered that Nya was a samurai

You still bonded over not being taken seriously as fighters, but you could feel the gap between you widening

When she became the water ninja, you never felt more alone

Years of having to hang back on every mission, being used as leverage by villains, never being seen as more than a damsel in distress... and now you had no one to confide in

It made you so bitter

Your sweet, youthful innocence that made you the adored little sister figure of the group dissolved

You were touchy and guarded, especially when it came to Nya and Kai

Mainly you channeled your anger into passive-aggressive comments, but you also provoked your siblings quite often, which earned you the same treatment you were giving them

"Oh my--- Kai, can you actually shut up? I'm trying to read!"

"I'm literally training! What do you want me to do? Just put your stupid book down and go do something useful. Oh, wait, you can't!"

The others would often have to step in to defend Kai and Nya from your constant verbal attacks, and vice-versa

One night, the three of you were alone on the Bounty

A particularly volatile argument ensued

You let it slip that you felt weak powerless compared to them, and that it pained you to see them running off kicking butt together while you had to hang back

They were both floored by this

Nya ran over to hug you right away

"Y/n... I remember how that felt. I can't believe I didn't think of you when I went off to become the water ninja."

Though Kai couldn't relate, he recognized that you had been alienated

He joined the hug

"I know I haven't always been as close with you as Nya... I want to fix that. I want to fix this."

"Really..? Then... can you train me? So I can come along on missions with you guys?"

"Are you kidding? Let's head to the dojo right now!"

You all knew you'd still have to deal with being less powerful than your elemental master siblings, but at least you wouldn't feel as powerless as you've been all these years

Lloyd

You were the children of the dark lord, of course you hated each other

It was just part of what you both thought was your "evil" nature

But when Lloyd went off to Darkley's, you were alone

You decided to run away with aspirations of starting your own evil gang

But, being so young, you obviously failed

You actually ended up in the care of your estranged mother, who showed you the light

You turned away from your evil past and instead joined Misako on her archaeological adventures

Imagine your surprise when you reunited with Lloyd all those years later when Wu needed Misako's assistance

You'd think that, with both of you no longer being evil, that you'd get along now

Nope

For some reason, you still couldn't find it in your hearts to be nice to one another

It was second nature to treat each other like garbage

You argued, pulled pranks, provoked each other, sabotaged each other, destroyed each other's things... the list went on

The other ninjas were wary of your relationship

They were wondering if this was within the realm of "normal" sibling rivalry

Their final cue that it was not normal was when it continued after Lloyd drank the tomorrow's tea

He acted mature and level-headed towards everyone and everything except you

They knew that this was a real problem; how could Lloyd be expected to defeat Garmadon when he couldn't even try to be nice to his little sister?

They staged an intervention, which Lloyd was surprisingly receptive to

He didn't like it, but he knew he had to try to cultivate a better relationship with you

So, he stopped antagonizing you (as much as he could manage)

You noticed, and somehow you felt compelled to do the same

You could never completely abandon your old ways, but deep down you both knew it was for the better

Neither of you wanted to keep this up forever, so you might as well stop now

By the time the final battle was on the horizon, you managed your first ever remotely pleasant interaction:

"Hey Lloyd... don't die. Please."

"Same to you. Stay safe."

Jay

You always hated Jay, and he always hated you

Your earliest memory was literally him trying to steal your toy, and you throwing it in his eye

You had no explanation for this, only a burning rage that never seemed far from your mind, especially when Jay was around

It certainly didn't help that you two were practically joined at the hip your whole lives

This, too, you had no explanation for

You just always followed each other

When he went off to be a ninja, you went off too

You didn't regret it one bit, especially when you befriended Nya

She taught you so many things, and you became a skilled mechanic with her guidance

But one thing you didn't like about Nya was how she always pointed out the similarities between you and your brother

"Huh. Jay taps his fingers in the same pattern when he's bored, too."

"What? Tch, he must be copying me."

You were livid when Jay started showing an interest in Nya

You were convinced that he was trying to steal her from you just to spite you

Unfortunately, this resulted in Nya frequently being caught in the middle of your arguments (literally)

"Nya wants to finish her project with me!"

"No, she wants to watch a movie with me!"

It was Nya's hardheaded nature that diffused these arguments

"I don't want to hang out with either of you if you're going to be so immature."

She kept to this promise; from that moment, she completely ignored the both of you

This drove you closer to one another

You both knew that you'd have to stop your constant arguing if either of you ever wanted to talk to Nya again

"Look, I don't want to be ignored forever any more than you do. So, I guess we can start with... I don't know, why do you hate me, Y/n?"

"Because... I... I... I don't know. Why do you hate me, Jay?"

"... I don't know."

"So all these years we've antagonized each other-"

"For no reason??"

"That's so stupid!"

"You're stupid! ...Sorry, that was a reflex."

"No, you're right. It looks like we're both idiots."

It would take a long time to forget habits literally tracing back to your births, but you would both try your hardest

Sorry this turned out pretty long ^^" hope you enjoyed anyway! Thanks for reading this far,, and thank you anon for your request!

(divider by saradika)