#i might be having spicy thoughts again
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lonewolflupe · 3 months ago
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Alright sometimes I have some questionable ideas and motives which I might regret later on, but convincing you to share this was NOT one of those ahahaha
Ooooooh Wolffe look at those canines, look at his expression, look at his chest, I'm- I am.. I am SO unwell about this holy nerfballs I need him to bite me but seriously this is some wonky chonky chesty stuff, my Maker
Yes we are going down, I am already falling I hope I can make it home in one piece, otherwise this was totally worth it
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-am really proud of this wolffe sketch, @lonewolflupe convinced me to share it before I start linework for him + rex
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lightblueminecraftorchid · 6 months ago
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The eternal tension between genuinely wanting to watch/read good horror media and wanting to sleep for the next week.
#I was trying to watch through HBomberGuy’s pathologic video again#because I do really genuinely like Pathologic and I think he does a good job of explaining why it’s cool#but I had to stop about 15 minutes in bc the anxiety thoughts started and I clicked ‘it is late at night’#‘if I keep watching I will not sleep’#I wish I had thicker skin when it comes to horror#even little things get to me p bad even when they’re not related to any trauma or anything#like there was this one game that the sleepover society played through#it was rly cool and I loved it bc it has that old Win95 aesthetic#complete w/ DOS startup interface showing up each in game day#old outlook style email#it’s so fun#but it is a horror game. even though the horror is 1) clearly implausible to real life and 2) not Smth that’s related to anything religious#it’s abt a pest company that fields calls and at first it starts normal#you get calls and you have tabs to click on abt different pests like raccoons and ants and stuff#and some stuff for like. black mold. house problems you might mistake for pests.#and then it nosedives into ‘tiny creatures that live and your walls and if you don’t give them offerings they turn into boggarts and eat you#or fae which claim your house and swallow you alive’#and that’s genuinely cool worldbuilding and I liked it and I loved the ending of it#but I did struggle to sleep for days afterwards bc I got irrational thoughts like ‘what if the pretend glowy fungus is real’#bc a lot of the horror creatures were stuff that you explicitly wouldn’t notice or would write off as being poor memory or regular pests#like plucking your dreams out of your head or a mirror making you forget who you are#spookie. to me. and I know that’s the point I just feel like it’s the equivalent of calling paprika spicy.
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quibbs126 · 2 years ago
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I want a Charcoal Cookie
I mean, you can have activated charcoal in food, like charcoal cheddar, black ice cream, other things I can’t find (without the internet telling me there was some sort of trend about putting it in food, I’m just looking for actual food with it). So I mean, it works if you need the Cookies to be made of something edible
Also, maybe with charcoal being burnt wood, they could have a connection to Millennial Tree Cookie? Like, they were once a part of his forest, or even a branch from his tree, that got burnt into charcoal and then turned into a Cookie? And maybe they hold resentment for it? I dunno, just a neat idea pertaining to it I had
And also I want to make a joke about them eating wood to like, keep their powers active, like they have fire powers and they need to eat wood to keep it burning. But also they just eat sticks. Like yes, they eat other food, but they will just chomp on a twig
Just a random thing
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orangeblossomsintheair · 25 days ago
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oh could you write something cute about the reader and Lando please, maybe something funny where the reader says "oh yeah I'll do this but for that you'll buy me a Porsche" and Lando actually buys her a car 💜
BRAND AMBASSADOR | LN4
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wc : 3k
an : slowly working through my requests yippie! im not too sure about this but i hope its alr :'>
It was meant to be a joke. Really.
But Lando didn’t know how to take a joke.
For weeks, he’d been pestering you to do a photoshoot with him for Quadrant.
“Brand image, baby!” he insisted, arms flailing as if that explained everything. “Power couple vibes! You and me, absolutely dominating the internet. Imagine the engagement!”
“My manager would actually drop dead if I did a hoodie campaign.”
“Oh come on, baby, just one photoshoot,” he pleaded, leaning so far over the kitchen island that he looked like he might slide right off. “Just a few pics in Quadrant stuff! Hoodie, joggers, maybe the bucket hat if you're feeling spicy-"
You didn’t even look up from your phone. “Lando. I’m booked for the next eight months. Vogue is flying me to Paris next week, and Dior wants me in Milan by the weekend. I don’t have time to play influencer in your gamer merch.”
“It's not gamer merch!” Lando gasped, clutching his chest like you’d stabbed him. “It’s- it's
 lifestyle! Culture! Gaming and racing fusion!”
“That’s cute,” you said flatly, scrolling.
Lando narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t even look at the new designs I sent you.”
“Because it’s just another hoodie, baby.”
He gasped again, louder this time. “Just another hoodie?”
“Oh, I’m sorry- hoodie, but make it Formula 1.”
“Wow.” He pointed at you. “I cannot believe this slander. From my own girlfriend.”
“Your supermodel girlfriend,” you corrected without missing a beat.
“And yet, I’m still here, humbly begging for crumbs of attention.”
You didn’t even blink.
And that’s when you heard it. The soft shuffle of socks against hardwood floors.
You looked up just in time to see Lando drop dramatically to his knees in front of you, arms sprawled over your thighs like some lovesick Victorian maiden.
His chin rested on your knee, staring up at you with those big, stupidly pretty eyes.
“Please.” His voice dropped to a pitiful whisper, like he was auditioning for a charity ad. “Do a Quadrant shoot with me.”
“Oh my God, Lando- get off the floor!”
“No. I live here now.” He clung tighter. “Photoshoot. Please, baby. You could be the face of the brand! Imagine it: you in my merch, absolutely carrying. We could finally replace Max’s ugly mug on the website-”
“Lando!” You laughed, swatting at him.
“It’s true! The customers deserve better!”
“You own the brand. You’re supposed to be the face.”
"But you’d look so good in my hoodies," he said, practically drooling at the thought. "God, you in joggers? Maybe one of those cropped sweaters? The internet would lose its mind.”
You stared at him. Long. Hard.
“
Fine.”
His eyes lit up, stars in aquamarine. “Wait, really?”
“But it’s gonna cost you.”
Lando blinked. Sat up straighter. “How much?”
You smirked, dragging your perfectly manicured nails through his curls, watching him melt like butter.
“A car.”
His entire posture changed. He sat up straighter, interest piqued. Now you were speaking his language. “Which one?”
You almost choked. “Excuse me?”
Lando leaned in, eyes sharp now. “Which. One.”
Oh, he was serious.
You blinked, regrouped, and leaned back like you were simply ordering off a menu.
“LaFerrari.”
Silence.
“The red one. Wine red. Matches my nails.” You admired the burgundy polish glinting under the light. “I’d look good in it.”
Lando didn’t even blink.
“Deal.”
Your head snapped toward him. “What?”
“Done.” He stood up, dusting off his sweatpants like you hadn’t just asked for a multi-million-dollar hypercar. “I’ll have the keys for you next week. Photoshoot’s on Friday.”
“Lando, that’s a LaFerrari-”
“And?”
“It’s like
 a $3 million car!”
He tilted his head. “Do you want it in the garage or delivered to your place?”
You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“
You’re insane.”
Lando leaned down, smirking, and kissed your forehead. “And now you’re stuck with me.”
“
I want full creative control over the shoot.”
“Baby, you can set the studio on fire if it makes you happy.”
“And you’re paying for my glam team.”
“Obviously.”
You stared at him, still trying to process how you had accidentally hustled a hypercar off your billionaire boyfriend in under five minutes.
“And I want full rights to veto any photo where I look bad.”
“Oh, baby, you never look bad.”
You squinted. “If I show up and it’s just me in some hoodie in front of a brick wall-”
Lando’s hands cupped your cheeks, deadly serious. “You will be in a hoodie
 in front of a gaming PC.”
You slapped his hands away.
—
You were never supposed to take it this far.
The photoshoot was meant to be a joke.
A little bargaining chip to shut Lando up for five minutes. You didn’t think he’d actually pull it off.
Yet here you were.
In a studio. In a Quadrant hoodie. In sweatpants.
And to make it worse, Lando was treating this like he was shooting for Vogue.
“Okay, okay- pause! Can we fix the lighting on her left side? I need more contrast, more mood. She’s selling the hoodie but not the vibe.”
You slowly turned to glare at him. “Lando. I am wearing a hoodie. There is no ‘vibe.’”
“There’s always a vibe!” Lando spun around to the photographer. “Tell her there’s a vibe.”
The photographer, who was clearly riding the paycheck wave, gave you an awkward smile and a less than enthusiastic thumbs up. “Yeah. Big vibe.”
You groaned and adjusted the hoodie, tugging the hood up over your head. “Lando, I walked for Dior last month. Dior. And now I’m here, dressed like a Twitch streamer in front of a gaming PC.”
Lando gasped. “First of all, streamers WISH they looked this good. Second of all, don’t disrespect the setup. That’s a triple-monitor, RGB-lit, water-cooled rig worth more than my life.”
“Yeah, well, it better be. Because I’m dying inside.”
“Okay, can we get a shot of her sitting on the desk? Like, casual, but make it fashion. Maybe holding a controller? No- headset! Baby, put on the headset.”
You stared at him. “You want me to wear a gaming headset in a fashion shoot?”
“Yes. Gamer girlfriend aesthetic. Internet eats that up.”
“I haven’t touched a console since the Wii came out.”
“And that’s the fantasy!”
—
Lando couldn’t stop staring.
The moment you put on the damn headset, he knew he was in trouble.
He’d been so smug, so proud of himself for getting you to agree to this ridiculous photoshoot.
But now? Now he was fighting for his life.
Because there you were, sitting on the desk in a Quadrant hoodie, wearing his brand, looking so effortlessly good that it was like the universe was punishing him for ever thinking this was a good idea.
It wasn’t just the way the hoodie hung on you, oversized and perfect, or the way you pushed the headset into place like you were made to wear it.
It was the thought behind it.
You were wearing his stuff.
And that did things to him.
Very Dangerous things.
Lando dragged a hand over his face, trying to snap himself out of it, but it was no use.
His gaze betrayed him, sliding back to you as you leaned back on the desk, legs crossed, your smirk telling him you knew exactly what you were doing to him.
“Lando,” you said, your voice teasing and smooth, “you okay over there, baby?”
He tried to play it cool. “Yeah. All good.” His voice cracked halfway through, and he coughed to cover it up.
But he wasn’t fine.
Not even close.
His hands were clammy, his heart was pounding, and he was hyperaware of the fact that he was growing harder by the second.
Oh, this was bad.
You shifted on the desk, leaning forward slightly, the motion drawing his eyes to your legs before snapping them back to your face.
That cocky little smirk was still there, your stupidly pretty eyes glinting with amusement.
You were enjoying this. Brat.
“You sure?” you pressed, tilting your head.
His voice was higher this time, strained and barely holding it together. “Yep. Fine. Totally fine.”
You didn’t buy it for a second. “Lando
”
“That’s it,” Lando muttered, voice tight, cracking slightly with frustration. “Break! We’re taking a break.”
His words were sharp, a contrast to the usual smooth confidence he exuded.
Without waiting for any response, he grabbed your wrist, dragging you away from the set with a sense of urgency that didn’t match the cool composure he usually carried.
“Lando, what the-”
“Not now,” he interrupted, low and tense, as he pulled you into a nearby storage room.
The door clicked shut with an almost deliberate force, the sound of the lock turning echoing in the small space.
You barely had time to gather your thoughts before he was in your space, his breath coming fast, his chest rising and falling against yours.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” His voice was low, strained, his hands finding your waist, gripping tight, enough to bruise.
A slow smile spread across your lips. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.”
Lando’s forehead pressed against yours, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as if trying to center himself.
His breath fanned across your lips, shaky and uneven, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his chest seemed to rise and fall faster with every breath.
“You’re a brat,” he muttered under his breath, voice raw, yet edged with something almost desperate.
“You’re the one who wanted me in your merch,” you teased, your fingers curling into his hair as you leaned into him, feeling the heat of his body.
“Yeah, well
” His hands slid lower, pulling you closer, his fingertips burning against your skin. “Now I’ve got more than I bargained for.”
The words barely left his lips before his mouth found yours.
The kiss was messy, urgent, his lips urgent against yours, like he couldn’t get enough.
You didn’t need to think. Your body responded immediately, hands moving to pull him closer, the heat building.
The press of his body against yours was relentless, hard and desperate, as he deepened the kiss.
His hand slid down your thigh, pulling it up to hook around his waist, while the other traced a slow, deliberate path along your jaw.
His breath fanned across your skin, shallow and uneven, each exhale carrying a heat that set your nerves ablaze.
“You don’t fight fair,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, edged with a hunger that made your stomach flip. His mouth moved to your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as his teeth grazed your throat.
Your lips curled into a smirk, your nails raking across his back just enough to make him shudder. The sound of his sharp inhale sent a rush of power through you.
“Neither do you,” you whispered, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his as your fingers found the hem of his hoodie, tugging it higher, your touch skimming over his skin.
“God, you
” His voice broke, his words catching in his throat as he crashed his mouth back to yours.
The kiss was harder this time, almost frantic, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.
His hands moved with purpose now.
Demanding, claiming, leaving no part of you untouched.
Your nails scraped against his back again, dragging another groan from deep in his chest, a sound so raw and desperate it made your knees weak.
His hips rocked against you, slow and deliberate, each movement sending shockwaves through your body.
“Careful, Norris,” you teased, your voice breathless but still carrying a hint of mischief as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze.
His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. A quiet intensity that you'd seen more than once.
“You’re starting to look a little
 well, territorial.”
For a moment, he froze. His chest heaved with every ragged breath as if he was trying to regain control.
Then his lips twitched into a sly, almost dangerous smile, one that sent a thrill through you.
“Maybe I am,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, each word carrying weight. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, making any distance between you disappear.
The words sent a shiver through your spine. But it wasn’t fear. It was something else, something exciting, something that only made you want more.
His lips found your neck again, pressing soft, burning kisses against your skin.
His teeth grazed over your pulse, just enough to send a jolt through you, sharp and unexpected, making your breath catch in your throat.
You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered, “Everyone’s going to notice, you know. You weren’t exactly subtle when you dragged me off like that.”
The corner of his mouth curled into a grin, but it was dark now, and there was a sudden pressure in his hands as he adjusted his position against you. “Let them notice,” he said, his voice thick with something unspoken.
He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower, his breath hot against your skin. “I don’t care. They can see whatever they want.”
The words sent a wave of heat rushing through your body, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, your nails scraping lightly over his back.
—-
When it was over, you leaned back against the wall, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady your breath.
Lando, however, was already standing in front of you, his hair tousled, his hoodie still hanging off his frame in a way that somehow made it look even better on him than it ever had before.
He bent down casually to scoop your underwear from the floor, dangling them in front of you with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
“Come on, love,” he said, his voice rough and teasing, still thick with exertion. “Don’t leave me hanging. Put these back on before we go out there.”
You shot him a glare, snatching the fabric from his hand and hurriedly slipping it on, feeling the heat rush to your face.
Lando leaned back against the wall, watching you with a cocky, self-satisfied grin. “Still dripping with me,” he murmured, but the rasp in his voice made your stomach flip. You felt your cheeks flush even more.
You rolled your eyes, tugging the hoodie down to hide your body and fix your composure. “You’re disgusting.”
“And yet, you love me,” he replied with a wink. “Guess that says something about you too.”
The studio lights were still dimmed as you walked back in, legs slightly unsteady. You caught yourself on the doorframe, trying to keep your cool, but the feeling between your legs was still fresh, raw.
Lando followed you, smirking like a cat that had just caught its prey. He leaned against the wall, eyes on you as his grin grew wider. “Fix your hair,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “You look like you just got fucked.”
You barely suppressed a laugh, brushing your fingers through your hair and pulling it back into something that at least resembled “done.” “Gee, I wonder why,” you muttered under your breath.
Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the way you were still trying to play it cool. “Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining.”
You narrowed your eyes, about to retort when Lando took a step forward, his smirk never fading, and pulled you close. He kissed you softly, lingering, the kind of kiss that made it hard to remember where you ended and he began.
“Come on,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away, the mischief still dancing in his eyes. “We’ve got a photoshoot to finish.”
—-
Months passed.
The LaFerrari didn’t show up.
Not that you cared. Really.
Sure, it had been a fun little joke—“Pay me in a LaFerrari or I’m not doing this shoot”—but you never expected Lando to actually follow through.
He said he would but Lando also forgot to stock up on groceries some days so you didn’t take it to heart.
Besides, it wasn’t like you had time to think about it.
Your schedule was relentless: fashion weeks in Paris, Vogue shoots in Milan, fittings for Dior in New York.
You were barely home long enough to unpack, let alone pine after a car.
It wasn’t a big deal.
Until one night, after a particularly grueling flight back from London, you pulled into your driveway and-
You slammed the brakes.
Because there it was.
A LaFerrari.
Burgundy red. Like aged wine. Like sin and velvet had a baby and parked it outside your house.
It gleamed under the porch light, shameless and expensive.
For a full minute, you did nothing but stare, slack-jawed.
Then you slowly got out of the car, leaving your bags in the trunk.
“Lando,” you muttered, pulling out your phone.
You called.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, baby- what’s up?”
“You left a LaFerrari on my driveway.”
“Oh! You got home?” He sounded way too casual.
“Lando. There is a multi-million-dollar car parked outside my house.”
“Yeah, about that. It’s yours. Obviously.”
“
You’re joking.”
“Would I joke about something this expensive?”
“Yes.”
“Fair. But not this time.”
You stared at the car again.
“Are you serious? After months?”
“It takes time to deliver a LaFerrari!” Lando said, his voice way too serious for a man who had just been exposed.
“I had to get it customized, too. Your name is literally engraved on the side. And then there was the whole issue with cargo. Did you know they’re super strict about how cars are transported? I had to make sure it wasn’t gonna get dented, and the shipping company I trust didn’t have any available slots until-”
“I thought you were joking, Lando!”
“Well, I wasn’t,” he replied confidently. “You said you wanted a LaFerrari. You said ‘make it red wine,’ so I made it red wine. I also got the seats customized with carbon fiber inserts and-”
You groaned in disbelief, interrupting him. “You literally bought the car, customized it, and shipped it to my house."
Lando blinked, unfazed. “Well, yeah. Obviously. Did you think I was kidding about that part?”
“Yes! It’s a LaFerrari! Who even does that?! It’s absurd!”
"Clearly me.” He paused. “Check the glove compartment.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
Suspicious, you approached the car, heels clicking on the pavement. You opened the door.
God, even the door sounded expensive- and popped the glove compartment.
Inside was a tiny Hot Wheels car. A red LaFerrari.
Taped to it was a sticky note.
“Just in case this one wasn’t enough. - Lando”
You stared at it.
You looked back at the LaFerrari, glinting under the sun like some ridiculous, over-the-top love letter.
“
I’m taking it to the Dior fitting tomorrow.”
“You better.”
“
Is this why you were ignoring my texts last week?”
“I wasn’t ignoring you! I was busy coordinating with Italy!”
“Oh my God.”
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hanniebaeee · 1 month ago
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Freckles and Brownies
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Felix x fem!reader
Warnings: spicy dreams, some smut (not deep), and reader is slightly older MDNI
Genre: neighbors/friends to lovers, fluff, smut
Summary: Your sweet neighbor Felix has the biggest crush on you. You try not to give in, but he's way too irresistible.
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You knew he was coming over even before you heard the knock on your door. Your apartment building had the thinnest walls in the history of thin walls - it was pathetic really.
But you liked your cute little apartment a lot - it was quiet (most of the time) and comfortable. Then there was Felix, your sweet neighbor who lived next door with his roommate, Jisung.
Felix was a joy to have around, because he was kind, considerate, and he always had a smile on his face. And he was totally obsessed with you.
He loved to bake and every time he baked, he would knock on your door, with a box of such yummy treats.
“Hey, I made extra. Thought you might like some,” he’d say, handing them over, with the softest smile on his face.
And your heart would skip a beat because, seriously, he looked like a fantasy wrapped in an apron.
Yes, you thought he was adorable. But he was your neighbor and you knew he was a few years younger, and so, adorable or not - you never crossed that line.
So, you pretended not to see the way he constantly blushed around you or the way his eyes would always linger a second too long. It was so hard, when he was right there in front of you, baking brownies or cookies every other day just so he could come and see you.
You had to draw a line. You had to.
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The night was quiet, except for the soft tapping of your fingers on your keyboard as you worked. You were in bed, hair pulled into a messy bun, a mug of tea in hand, trying to meet a deadline you couldn’t ignore.
Your focus, however, was shattered by a noise from the other side of the wall. The very wall that separated your apartment from Felix’s.
At first, it was very faint. A low, muffled groan. You paused, fingers hovering over the keys, straining to listen. Maybe Felix was having another one of his late-night gaming sessions with Jisung?
Then it came again. Oh that's definitely not related to gaming.
You froze. Because that was a moan. A low, breathy moan. And it was your name.
“Y/N
”
Your stomach dropped. No way. NO WAY!
But then you heard it again. And again. His voice, soft yet clear, filtering through the paper-thin wall separating your bedroom from his. The sounds that followed were unguarded, raw, and so unbelievably... dirty.
“Oh, God, Y/N
”
Your entire body flushed with embarrassment and something else entirely. You slapped a hand over your mouth completely scandalized.
Ok, you knew he liked you, but this? He couldn’t be
was he seriously
?
You quickly shook your head as if that would help banish the thought. No. Felix was sweet and innocent and, okay, not innocent, but still.
But then came another sound. This one unmistakable the creak of a bed frame, followed by a low, guttural moan that sent your imagination spiraling to a whole new level.
“Oh, fuck,” you heard him whisper. “So good
”
Your hands shot to your headphones. It wasn’t even a choice at this point - it was pure survival. You jammed them onto your head and cranked up the volume on your playlist. There.
Not that it worked. Because no matter how loud the music, you could still hear him in your head.
You buried your face in your hands. You weren’t supposed to be hearing this. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about how Felix - sweet, blushing, brownie-baking Felix - was currently doing whatever he was doing!
---
Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall

Felix was lost in his dream, blissfully unaware of the chaos he was causing. In his dream, you were standing in his kitchen, wearing one of those pretty sweaters he always saw you in. But this time, the fabric was slipping off one of your shoulders as you leaned over the counter, a teasing smile on your lips. Oh he could see way more than just a bit of skin.
“Do you want a taste?” you asked, holding up your fingers dripping with chocolate.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely functioning. “Y-Yeah
”
You laughed softly, dipping your fingers into your mouth, licking them clean yourself.
“You have to ask nicely, baby.” you whispered.
His dream-self didn’t hesitate. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer, his lips crashing into your chocolate stained ones in a kiss so desperate, so needy, it made his whole body ache.
Felix let out a deep, throaty groan, clutching his pillow tightly as his dream-self pushed you against the counter, rutting against you like his life depended on it.
He pushed his face into his pillow, his hips moving against the mattress for some friction. He snaps awake, feeling a bit disoriented, but so damn hard and needy.
“Y/N
” he whispered, his voice so deep and raw. “I need you
”
His hand slips into his sweatpants, trying to help himself out of this mess, face still pressed into his pillow.
---
You yanked off your headphones, groaning in frustration. This was ridiculous. You were a grown woman. You could handle this.
You groaned as you heard another moan followed by the creaking of his bed (more frantically), and you threw yourself back onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow to stifle the hysterical laugh bubbling up in your chest.
This was insane. Completely, utterly insane. How are you supposed to face him tomorrow? You can't, not after this.
—
The next morning, you're walking down the hallway, so fatigued and sleep deprived after you spent the whole night unable to fall asleep. You were dressed for work, your bag in one hand, your phone in the other.
And the universe decided to play the most ridiculous joke on you, because there came Felix from the opposite side - t-shirt half-tucked, hair a little messy - looking totally
spent.
You tried to act casual, but he froze when he saw you.
“Morning!” he chirped, his face lighting up when he saw you. “You’re up early!”
“Yeah, well, work, you know
”
“Are you okay? You look kind of flustered.” Felix tilted his head, studying you.
“I’m fine!” you blurted, far too quickly.
“Are you sure? You seem a little... tense.” he said, and you narrowed your eyes at him.
Oh no, he wasn't doing this right now.
“Did you sleep well last night, Felix?” you asked, crossing your arms against your chest.
Felix blinked, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he said, “Uh... yeah. Why?”
You smiled sweetly, your tone laced with barely concealed mischief.
“Oh, no reason. You just seemed... very well-rested.”
Felix’s eyes widened, the realization hitting him rather mercilessly. “Oh my God.”
You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the poor boy.
“What's wrong?” you asked, and he turned bright red, his hands flying to cover his face.
“I- I didn’t - how did you - oh my God!”
You patted his shoulder, thoroughly enjoying his meltdown and said, “Don’t worry, Lixie. Your secret’s safe with me.”
And with that, you walked away, leaving Felix a stuttering, blushing mess in the hallway.
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Felix tried. He really did. After the mortifying revelation that you’d heard him, he swore to himself he’d keep his cool. He was a man, and he was going to act like it. Mature. Collected. Cool.
But every time he saw you, his resolve crumbled like one of his cookies.
You’d stopped by to return the Tupperware he’d given you last week (filled with brownies he’d baked as yet another excuse to see you). You were dressed casually in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt, your hair tied back, but Felix could hardly keep his composure.
“Thanks again for the brownies,” you said, handing him the container with a smile. “They were great. As always.”
His heart did a full somersault at your praise. He took the container, his fingers brushing yours, and you swore you felt him shiver.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stammered, cheeks dusted pink. “Anytime.”
He looked into the box that was definitely not empty, and saw that was indeed full.
“I made some lasagna, we never return empty containers,” you said with a wink and Felix blushed as he smiled.
“Thank you, Y/N.” He said, “Um, -”
A silence stretched between you two, broken only when Jisung called from inside, “Felix! Are you flirting with her again?!”
Your eyes went wide and Felix choked, turning toward the door.
“I’m not - she’s not - shut up, Jisung!” he growled and you laughed, as Felix turned back to you, now red as a tomato.
“Anyway,” you said quickly, backing toward your apartment, “I’ve gotta go.”
“Yeah, of course!” Felix said, nodding too quickly. “See you later?”
“Sure,”
---
“I don’t know what to do,” you groaned, stirring your latte, as your best friend, Jennie eyed you with a smirk. “He’s so
 sweet. And attractive. And every time I see him, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
Jennie raised an eyebrow, sipping her Americano and said, “So, I don't see the problem?”
“The problem,” you emphasized, “is that he’s younger than me. What if he regrets it later?"
Jennie snorted.
“Oh, please. What's a couple of years have to do with anything? He’s an adult. He can vote, drive, drink - he's a big boy, Y/N. Stop making excuses.”
“It’s not just the age thing,” you protested. “We're neighbors. It’s messy. If it doesn't work out, I'd have to move and then-”
“Babe, he's hot,” Jennie added, waggling her eyebrows. “Come on, Y/N. The guy clearly worships you. I bet he’d walk barefoot through a field of Legos if you asked him to.”
“Jen-”
“Look,” she interrupted, leaning forward with a smirk, “I get it. You’re scared. But life’s short. If you want him, go for it.”
You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. Jennie was the worst. But she was also
 not entirely wrong.
---
For Felix, this was a whole crisis.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. The way you smiled, the way you smelled when you leaned in just a little too close. It was driving him insane.
Jisung, of course, noticed his nonstop thirsting.
“Dude,” Jisung said, tossing the controller onto the couch as Felix stared blankly at his laptop. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Felix muttered, though the pink tint to his ears gave him away.
“Oh, come on,” Jisung groaned. “It’s been, what, six months? You’re salivating every time she walks by.”
“She’s
 amazing, ok? And perfect. And
” He trailed off, sighing deeply. “She’d never go for someone like me.”
“Why not?” Jisung asked, genuinely curious.
“Because she’s
her,” Felix said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She's beautiful, and successful. And-”
“And so into you,” Jisung interrupted. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Trust me, she’s interested.”
Felix shook his head, his heart aching. He wanted to believe it, but every time he got close to you, he felt like you were slipping through his fingers.
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That night, as you lay in bed, your mind wandered back to Felix. To his soft voice, his shy smile, and the way he looked at you like you were his entire world.
You groaned, rolling onto your side. This was ridiculous. Jennie’s words echoed in your mind, Life’s short. If you want him, go for it.
You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. But then you heard it - the doorbell.
You sat up, heart racing. It was almost midnight. You slipped out of bed and walked to your door. You heard the bell again, and this time, Felix’s voice with it.
“Y/N?” Felix’s voice was soft but urgent. “It’s me.”
You opened the door quickly to find Felix standing there, looking equal parts nervous and determined.
“Felix, is everything ok?”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he blurted out, his freckles stark against his flushed cheeks. “I know this is crazy, and I know I probably don’t have a chance, but
 I had to tell you. Because it’s driving me crazy. You’re driving me crazy.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.
“Felix, I -”
“I don't know what to do,” he continued, his voice trembling. “But I need you to know. I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you.”
—---
The clock on your nightstand read 2:47 AM. You’d been lying in bed for hours, unable to sleep, your head spinning.
Felix’s confession played on repeat in your head.
I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you.
The words had shattered something inside you. You’d wanted to say something, anything, but all you’d managed was a stunned silence - staring at him with your mouth open, that he gave you a rushed goodnight. And bolted.
Since then, you’d been teetering on the edge of panic and longing. You didn't say anything. Anything at all. And seeing the disappointment in those big beautiful eyes of his, seeing his face crumble with sadness at your silence was absolutely heartbreaking.
You turned onto your side, facing the wall you shared with Felix. Your heart ached, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on your chest. He was right there, so close, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to bridge the gap.
---
Felix lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his hands gripping the sheets like they were the only things tethering him to reality.
He had spilled his heart to you, thinking it would work. And now? Now it felt like his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces.
You hadn’t said anything. Not a single word to give him hope or closure. He tried to convince himself you were just processing, that you weren’t rejecting him - but the silence was the most painful thing he'd ever had to endure.
His gaze drifted to the wall separating his room from yours. And his mind, traitorous as always, began to wander. He imagined you on the other side, lying in your bed, the soft curve of your lips, the way your eyes would flutter shut if he kissed you.
His fantasies were vivid, and utterly maddening.
“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He wanted you so badly it hurt. But more than that, he wanted you to want him.
He felt like he was suffocating.
---
You couldn't take it anymore. It felt way too claustrophobic in your room. You sat up, your heart racing and climbed out of bed and padded to your door.
You needed some air.
---
The sound of your door opening reached him, and his heart leapt into his throat. He scrambled out of bed, throwing on a hoodie as he moved to his own door.
He opened his door and walked straight into you.
“Y/N,” he breathed, after his body clashed with yours, and his voice was so husky and breathless.
“I
” You hesitated, looking equally breathless and surprised. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Felix stepped closer, his gaze searching yours. “Me neither.”
You bit your lip, your chest heaving with the stress of it all.
“Felix, about what you said earlier
” you began.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
“I meant it. Every word.” he whispered.
“I know,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “And I
”
Before you could finish, Felix closed the distance between you, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His touch was gentle, and you both had a moment, staring at each other, absolutely terrified.
You didn't know who moved first, but here you two were, kissing. A kiss so soft at first, then deepening as months of pent-up desire spilled over. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a desperation that reflected your own.
Your back hit the wall and he tilted his head, licking into your mouth, and it was so absolutely hot.
When you finally pulled away from Felix, your lips still tingled from the kiss, and your heart pounded so hard.
Felix’s eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed a deep red. He looked absolutely stunned, his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out.
Oh no, why wasn't he saying anything?!
“I
” you began, but the words got stuck in your throat.
What could you even say?
“I’m sorry,” Felix whispered, his voice strained. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair, clearly panicking.
“No, no, I’m sorry,” you blurted, hugging your arms around yourself, feeling exposed in the oversized sweater you’d thrown on before bed. It barely skimmed your thighs, and now you were hyper-aware of how Felix’s eyes kept darting to your legs before snapping back up to your face.
Felix’s jaw tightened, and he let out a shaky breath.
“I
I should go.” he murmured and before you could stop him, he turned and sprinted back into his apartment, leaving you standing there.
—
The moment Felix shut the door to his apartment, he leaned against it.
“Shit,” he whispered, his eyes closed and voice trembling.
He wanted to scream. Or throw himself off a cliff. Because right now, all he could think about was the way you tasted, the way you looked in that damn sweater. The way you looked so
 thrown after the kiss.
Groaning, he went to his bedroom and fell onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. He was turned on beyond belief, but the guilt was just as strong.
That kiss, though perfect, felt impulsive and reckless. And now? He had no idea where you two stood.
---
By the time the sun came up, Felix was in full-on stress-baking mode.
His kitchen was a disaster - half empty bags of flour, bowls and utensils littered every surface, and his oven was working overtime. He’d already made two trays of brownies, cookies, and a batch of cupcakes, and he was still going.
Because every time he paused, every time he let himself think, his mind betrayed him. That damn kiss was playing on repeat in his head.
He threw himself back into baking, hoping it would distract him. But it didn’t work. His fantasies just grew wilder.
“Stop it,” Felix hissed to himself, slamming the oven door shut.
But the damage was done. He was a mess.
---
By the time Jisung woke up (close to noon) and stumbled into the kitchen, Felix was pulling yet another tray of cookies out of the oven.
“What the hell happened here?” Jisung asked, blinking at the mountain of baked goods that had taken over their apartment. “Did you open a bakery while I was asleep?”
Felix shot him a glare and said, “Don’t start.”
Jisung raised his hands in surrender, though he did ask, “Rough night?”
Felix didn’t answer, instead focusing on packing some of the cookies into containers.
Jisung leaned against the counter, smirking. “This is obviously about Y/N.”
Felix froze for a second.
“I knew it,” Jisung said, grinning. “Care to share what happened?”
Felix’s ears turned bright red as he shook his head.
“I’m not talking about it,” he said.
“Okay, fine,” Jisung said, grabbing a cookie. “But, for what it’s worth, you should tell her how you’re feeling. Like, really tell her.”
Felix sighed, his shoulders slumping.
“I already did.” he said sadly.
Jisung blinked in surprise. “And?”
“She didn’t say anything.” Felix’s voice was quiet, almost defeated. “And then
and then
never mind.”
---
The moment you stepped into the hallway after a long day at work, you were hit with the mouthwatering aroma of chocolate and vanilla.
You paused, inhaling deeply. Felix was baking again.
You’d just changed into your pyjamas when there was a knock at your door. Opening it, you weren’t surprised to find Felix standing there, holding four containers of baked goods in his hands.
He looked kind of disheveled and his expression was tight - like he was barely holding it together.
“Felix,” you started, but he thrust the containers into your hands before you could say more.
“What’s all this?” you asked, looking down at the overflowing assortment of brownies, cookies, and cupcakes.
Felix let out a laugh - a sharp and humorless one.
“It’s your fault,” he said and your eyebrows shot up.
“My fault?” you asked.
“Yes,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Because I can’t stop thinking about how you didn't say a word after I admitted my feelings for you. And then we kiss, and you don't say anything even then.”
Your lips parted, words failing you as he continued.
“It hurts. My heart hurts, and if I sit still I feel like I'm gonna faint. So yeah, I've been baking nonstop for hours now. You can eat them, throw them out, whatever you want. I just
I needed to get them out of my kitchen before I baked myself into oblivion.”
You sighed, setting the containers down on a nearby table. “Felix -”
“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head and taking a step back. “Don’t.”
“What? At least-”
“I have to go, or I'll end up doing something really stupid.”
And before you could stop him, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with all his baked treats and a heart that felt like it was breaking.
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Felix was spiraling.
For days, he’d been avoiding you as much as possible. He hated it. He hated having to speed walk past you or ignoring you. He couldn't stop craving you, and all through his heartache, he still missed you.
And he still couldn’t stop himself from baking for you. It was the only way he knew to show how much he cared without risking saying or doing something that might ruin everything further.
The knock on your door came as you were finishing dinner. You opened it to find Felix standing there, looking as nervous as ever, holding a box of brownies.
“Hi,” he said, his voice soft.
“Hi, Felix,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.
“I made these for you.” he said, holding the box out to you, his hands trembling slightly.
You took the box, your eyes narrowing slightly.
“Thanks, but -” Before you could finish, he turned and started to walk away.
“Felix!” you called after him, but he didn’t stop.
Something inside you snapped. You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Felix!” you yelled again, quickly placing the box on the ground and grabbing the back of his hoodie, tugging him to a stop.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he turned halfway to look at you.
“Please don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “I’m trying so hard to hold it together.”
“Well, stop,” you said firmly, pulling him back toward your apartment, your grip on his hoodie strong.
“Y/N,” he protested, stumbling slightly as you dragged him inside. “You don’t get it!”
“Shut up, Felix,” you snapped, cutting him off as you slammed the door behind you.
He blinked at you, startled, his mouth opening to say something else, but you didn’t give him the chance.
“I like you, okay?” you yelled, your voice rising. “I like you back, Felix! I’ve been trying to hold it in, trying to be reasonable because this whole thing is complicated and I didn’t want to make it weird, but I can’t take it anymore! You’ve been driving me mad with all your running and your baking and your stupid perfect face, so just - just shut up and kiss me already!”
For a moment, Felix just stared at you, his eyes wide, his lips parted in shock.
“You
 what?” he whispered, as if he couldn’t believe his ears.
“I said I like you,” you repeated, your chest heaving. “Now are you going to kiss me or not?”
In an instant, he closed the space between you, his hands cupping your face as he crashed his lips against yours.
The kiss was desperate, frantic even, and you responded with just as much intensity, your hands fisting in the front of his hoodie to pull him closer.
Felix’s lips were soft but insistent, his hands shaking slightly as they slid from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were gasping for air, trembling and flushed.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Felix whispered, his voice rough and shaky.
You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his face and said, “Probably as long as I have.”
He let out a soft laugh, his eyes shining with something you could only describe as pure joy.
And he kissed you over and over, until the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable connection you felt with each other.
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Dating Felix felt like stepping into a dream.
From the moment you both decided to give it a go, it was as if everything clicked into place. Now, you were greeted with the soft press of his lips whenever he saw you and even softer smiles that melted your insides.
He was so attentive, and so utterly devoted. And more perfect than you'd ever thought a person could be. He stayed over at yours a lot, and you kept him company whenever you could over at his. And it was absolutely magical.
Oh and he taught you how to bake. Or at least he tried.
---
Felix’s kitchen was a mess as usual, all his baking things spread everywhere. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair pushed back with a bandana.
You were perched on the kitchen counter, dressed in that sweater - the oversized one he loved so much, the one that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs. Your hair was loose, your smile teasing, and you looked like you'd walked straight out of his dream.
Felix swallowed hard, as he tried not to look at you. But when he did, he saw you leaning forward slightly, resting your chin in your hand.
“What’s next, Chef Lee?” you asked, nodding toward the bowl of brownie batter.
Felix cleared his throat, trying to gather himself.
“Uh, okay. So, once we mix the dry ingredients
”
His voice trailed off as you dipped your finger into the batter, scooping up a bit and popping it into your mouth.
The sound you made - a soft hum of approval - almost made him drop the bowl.
“Mmm,” you said, licking your finger clean. “That’s so good.”
Felix’s jaw clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the bowl to keep himself steady.
“Baby,” he said, his voice strained.
“What?” you asked, your eyes wide with mock innocence.
“You’re not
 helping,” he managed, his gaze slipping down to your thighs.
You tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you said, “I’m not?”
“No,” he said, setting the bowl down and taking a step closer to you.
“What am I doing, then?” you teased, tapping his bottom lip with your finger.
Felix caught your wrist, his grip firm but gentle.
“You’re being a bad girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
Your breath hitched as he stepped between your legs, his hands sliding over your thighs.
“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his fingers tightening on your skin.
You smirked, leaning in just enough for your lips to brush against his.
“I want you.”
That was all it took.
Felix kissed you like he was starving, his hands running over your thighs as he pressed you closer. He tasted of chocolate and something so uniquely him, and you honestly couldn't get enough.
His lips moved to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He pushed the fabric off your shoulder, kissing all your exposed skin, groaning as you thread your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly.
He pushed you back against the wall, his hands reaching under your sweater and pulling down your panties quickly. You gasped as he quickly bent down and threw your legs over his shoulders.
Your breath caught as he kissed your inner thighs and went on to give you the most mind blowing orgasm of your life.
The bowl of brownie batter sat forgotten on the counter as he devoured you. Your fingers were in his hair, his bandana long lost and followed by his shirt and a lot more.
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You sat on the counter, grinning smugly, your legs swinging lazily as you watched him, shirtless and glowing, trying to salvage the brownies he had abandoned earlier.
Felix glanced at you, his freckled cheeks still tinged pink, and smirked. He just lived his fantasy. And you were glowing, and it filled his heart to see you like that.
“The brownies, Lixie,” You reminded him as he lost focus, and was lost in thought, his eyes fixed on you.
He was about to reply when the front door opened, and Jisung walked in.
“Felix -” Jisung stopped mid-sentence as he walked into the kitchen, his eyes darting between you, perched on the counter, and Felix, standing there shirtless with a tray of brownies in hand.
There was a long, awkward pause as Jisung's eyes fell on Felix’s shirt lying on the floor. And obviously both of you looked enough ruffled for anyone to catch up.
“Oh my god,” Jisung finally said, his face scrunching up in horror. “Ew! Not in the kitchen!”
You burst into laughter, your hands flying to your mouth, while Felix just shook his head.
“Nothing happened here!” Felix insisted, though the sheepish grin tugging at his lips wasn’t helping his case.
Jisung pointed an accusing finger at his shirt lying on the floor.
“Don’t lie to me! There’s literally evidence of your sins everywhere!” he said.
“Jisung, I swear -”
“Save it!” Jisung cut him off dramatically, turning to leave. “I’m never eating anything that comes out of this kitchen again!”
You couldn’t stop giggling as Felix turned to you.
“Babe,” he muttered, though he couldn't help but smile.
“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to sound sincere but failing miserably.
Felix rolled his eyes, setting the tray down before stepping closer again.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he said, teasingly.
“Lucky, huh?” you said, looping your arms around his neck.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours as he said, “Very lucky.”
“I CAN HEAR YOU!” Jisung’s voice rang out from his bedroom.
You both burst out into giggles, and you kissed him again.
“I love you, Lixie.”
“I love you, baby.”
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght
1K notes · View notes
peppermint-toads · 1 year ago
Text
you were so sick and tired of being pregnant. you were always so hot, tired, sore.
your due date was three days ago. you were moping and miserable. your ob didn’t want to induce for whatever fucking reason. you begged her to tell you what you could do to get this fucking baby out of you already.
her suggestion took really surprised you.
simon made sure to always be at all of your appointments, even if you assured him that some of them were complete wastes of time.
you were just so, so glad he couldn’t make it to this one because your ob had essentially suggested you go home and get boned.
you never had to expressly ask simon to fuck you. never. he just knew or he was the one to initiate it.
your face was already red as you walked into your apartment. simon was in the kitchen starting dinner (bless him).
“thought i’d make something spicy. get things moving along, you know.”
you would’ve smiled at the thought of him researching foods that induced labor if you weren’t so worked up.
you set your keys and purse down.
“how was the appointment, love? sorry i couldn’t make it this go ‘round.”
again, your heart melted at how soft of a person simon managed to become.
“um, actually, simon—”
he halted immediately, rounding the kitchen island to place a hand on your stomach.
“what? is everything okay?”
god you can do this. deep breath.
“my ob said that, to help the baby, we should uhm. y’know.”
your gaze subconsciously drifted down towards the bulge in his pants that was there even though he was soft.
you looked back up at him and could see that it hadn’t clicked. you sighed again.
“she said if we fuck the baby might come sooner.”
it was simon’s turn to nearly choke. he nodded, slightly shocked by your bluntness. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like seeing you squirm as you forced yourself to blurt it out.
“okay,” he said decidedly. easy peasy. “if she suggested it, that means it’s safe, right?”
you nodded.
and that was that. he had you naked and rolling your hips on top of him within ten minutes. he helped you grind on his length just right, not worried about his pleasure at all.
your cheeks were all rosy and one of simon’s hands stayed firmly planted on your soft bump.
he made damn sure you came at least three times around him.
“that’s it, mama, such a good girl for me. you’re gonna have my baby, yeah? want me to get you pregnant all over again?”
you felt so loose and warm as he corralled you into the shower, making sure you were nice and clean before he wrapped you in your fuzzy robe and plopped you on the couch.
“curry will be done soon. hope you’re hungry.”
you went into labor the next morning.
8K notes · View notes
reidsfilm · 7 months ago
Text
UNDERCOVER — SPENCER REID
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dividers credit: cafekitsune.
PARING: spencer reid x fem reader
WARNINGS: crime, blood, spencer being overprotective, (normal warnings in the series) innuendo to spicy time, physical fight, spencer from season 10, hotch and derek being cheeky fuckers, fluff, a bit of angst.
SUMMARY: SUMMARY: You and Spencer are undercover on a case, acting as a couple. When you stray from the original plan, it leads to danger and ends up with your friendship with Spencer being much more than just that.
WORD COUNT : 6,7k
Notes: English is not my first language, so bear with me. There might be spelling mistakes here and there. I need to start watching Criminal Minds. This isn't proofread!
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It had started as a normal case. An unsub had been killing women, taking and leaving behind pieces of themselves. You and Reid had been assigned to go undercover in a bar at night to get any possible leads. You were a couple.
And now here you were, sitting at a table in the bar, your legs crossed and head resting gently in your hand. You weren't actually dating. Not at all. Just working together.
Spencer had a hand on your knee, gently tracing small circles with his thumb as he kept an eye on the patrons in the area.
You glanced around the bar, feeling Spencer's touch on your knee. You tried to remain in the undercover character you had created, sipping your drink and feigning being interested in the people around you. It was hard when Spencer was so close to you, but he made you feel protected, even if it was only for a case.
The bar was bustling around you, music playing in the background while people chatted, laughed, danced, and drank. Spencer’s thumb gently tracing circles on your thigh sent a flutter of butterflies to your stomach. It was always like this when the two of you were on a case. It was always so.. different, but no matter what, you trusted him, especially when he got to show his protective side.
You glanced sidelong at Spencer, noticing the small pout that had formed on his lips as he looked around the room. He always wore that expression when he was lost in thought. It was kind of adorable how focused he got. He didn't seem to notice that he was still tracing circles on your thigh, his hand resting there like it was natural. But to you, god it felt like your skin was on fire by his touch.
You continued to watch him, admiring the intensity of his gaze as his eyes scanned the room for any suspicious activity. You knew he was focusing on the case, that was obvious, but as his hand continued to caress your skin beneath the table.. it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the act. Why did he have to be so good with his hands?
Spencer suddenly tensed up, his grasp on your knee growing firmer as he spotted something on the other side of the room. He leaned a little closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in a low voice. "Someone is watching us. Don't turn around."
Your heart skipped a beat. His closeness alone sent a shiver down your spine, but hearing his voice in your ear? It was almost too much. You struggled to keep your cool as you casually took another sip from your drink, resisting the urge to turn and see who was watching you.
He moves even closer to you, his hand still firmly on your knee. He was acting so casual as if he didn't notice the effect he was having on you. How unfair.
Spencer noticed the shudder that ran through you as he leaned closer. For a moment, he almost forgot about the case at hand as he took in the sight of you struggling to remain collected. He was tempted to tease you for it, but he knew there were more pressing matters. He let out a shaky breath before whispering to you again. "They're coming closer. Stay calm."
Spencer's hold on your knee tightened as he saw the figure approaching your table. You could feel him tense up beside you, his hand remaining a steady presence against your leg. As the person drew closer, you could see that it was a man, tall, with a sinister smile on his face.
He stopped at your table, his eyes flickering between you and Spencer. "Well, well, well. Aren't you two a lovely couple?"
Spencer forced a polite smile, his grip on your knee growing tighter. He could practically feel your anxiety radiating off you, matching his own. This wasn't good. The man's comment had set off alarm bells in his mind. This guy was definitely the unsub.
"Thanks," he replied, feigning nonchalance. "We like to think we make a good pair."
The unsub's gaze lingered on you, his eyes roaming over your body in a way that made Spencer's blood boil. But he kept his cool, knowing that any overt display of jealousy might give away your cover. He leaned slightly in front of you, almost as if he was trying to shield you from the unsub's leering eyes.
The unsub chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation. "You two look so cozy together. How long have you been a couple?"
Spencer's jaw clenched, but he managed to maintain his facade of calmness. He wanted nothing more than to deck this guy, but instead, he chose his words carefully. "Oh, we've been together for a few months now," he said smoothly, his hand rubbing small circles on your leg again.
The unsub's smile widened, clearly finding some sick amusement in this situation. "Well, isn't that just adorable," he cooed, taking a step closer. "You seem very much.. in love."
Spencer suppressed a scoff, his hand clenching into a fist under the table. He would have liked nothing more than to wipe that smug look off the man's face.
You did your best to maintain a calm and cool demeanor despite the growing sense of unease. The unsub's presence was making your skin crawl, but with Spencer's hand resting on your leg and his protective stance, you remained collected.
"He makes me very happy," you said in a soft voice, glancing at Spencer with a smile that was half-genuine, half-act. "I'm a lucky girl."
The unsub's expression turned almost predatory at your comment. "Oh, I bet he does."
Spencer's eyes narrowed as the unsub leered at you, his grip on your leg growing firmer. He forced himself to remain civil, knowing that one wrong move could compromise the entire operation. But it was difficult, especially when he could see how uncomfortable and uneasy this whole situation was making you.
The unsub leaned closer, eyeing you up and down like you were a piece of meat. "He better treat you right," he almost purred. "A pretty thing like you deserves it."
Spencer bristled beside you, his jaw clenching as he bit back a scathing remark. The unsub's leering made him sick, and knowing he couldn't confront the guy outright drove him crazy. He wanted to punch the bastard's lights out, but that would definitely blow your cover.
The unsub smirked, clearly noticing the change in Spencer's demeanor. "Oh, don't like me commenting on your girl." He chuckled. "A little possessive, are we?"
Spencer couldn't hold back any longer.
"Yeah, I am." The words came out through gritted teeth, his hand instinctively rubbing your leg in a possessive gesture. He knew he was letting his emotions get the better of him, but he couldn't help it. Seeing this creep ogling you was driving him mad.
The unsub chuckled again, clearly amused by Spencer's reaction. "Careful now, pretty boy. Wouldn't want to do something you'll regret."
Spencer clenched his jaw tighter, his knuckles turning white as he held back a torrent of profanities. Seeing the unsub taunt him and openly flirt with you was pushing him to the edge. He was about to snap.
Suddenly, as if on cue, Hotch's voice came through your earpieces. "Keep it cool, guys. We've got eyes on you. Don't let him get to you."
Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep, slow breath to try and regain control. Listening to Hotch's calm but stern voice cut through the tension, reminding him that they needed to keep their cover intact.
Knowing that the team was watching and they had your backs helped to settle the nerves, but the unsub's unsettling presence was still making your skin crawl. And Spencer's obvious tension only heightened the situation.
Meanwhile, the unsub continued to leer at you and Spencer, enjoying the way he was clearly getting to him.
Spencer was trying to regain his composure. He let out a slow breath, his hand still gripping your knee like a vice, but he was clearly struggling to rein in his emotions. Despite his efforts to appear calm, it was obvious to everyone listening through the earpiece that he was on the verge of exploding.
The unsub, of course, noticed this and seemed to relish the power he had over Spencer. He chuckled again, relishing in his ability to provoke a reaction. "Looks like I hit a nerve."
You did your best to maintain a cool facade, plastering on a polite smile as you spoke. "Yeah, my man can get a little overprotective," you said with a laugh, trying to keep your voice light and casual. "It's kind of sweet, really."
You cast a glance at Spencer, hoping he would pick up the hint and reign in his emotions a bit. But with the way his jaw was clenched, it was like trying to tame a lion with a collar.
The unsub snorted, clearly not buying your attempts to downplay the situation. "Overprotective, huh?"
Spencer's grip on your knee grew even tighter, his knuckles white as he tried not to snap. But the unsub's words and the way he was still eyeing you were only fueling the fire.
A thought suddenly flashed through your mind. An idea. A dangerous one, and definitely against protocol, but you were certain you could handle it. You had to let Spencer know, somehow.
You reached down and gently placed your hand over his, giving it a subtle squeeze, hoping he'd pick up on the cue. Then, as casually as possible, you turned to glance at him. "Baby, I need to use the ladies' room, I'll be right back."
Spencer tensed up even more as you spoke, his eyes flicking to you with a mixture of disbelief and concern. He knew you well enough to know when you had a plan. And Spencer had a bad feeling about this one.
He caught the subtle squeeze of your hand, and the tone in your voice when you spoke to him. Danger, danger, danger. He wanted to protest, to tell you not to go alone, not to put yourself in danger, but you were already standing up and heading towards the bathroom.
You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you made your way towards the bathroom, the unsub also watching you leave with a leering gaze. You maintained your calm demeanor, but your heart was racing inside. This was dangerous and stupid, but you were certain you could handle it. Hell, Spencer would probably kick your ass after this, but as long as it got the job done...
You reached the restroom door and pushed it open, stepping inside the dimly lit space.
As the door closed behind you, the sound seemed to echo in your ears. You took a deep breath, pushing aside the nerves and reminding yourself that you were trained for this. You could do this.
You glanced at the mirror above the sink, taking a moment to check your reflection. It was still you, same facade, same expression. But there was a flicker of determination in your eyes, something that hadn't been there before. You were ready.
"What are you doing?"
Damn, you'd almost forgotten about the earpiece. But Hotch's voice snapped you back to reality. He'd seen you stand up and walk to the bathroom, and you could sense his concern through the comm link.
"I have a plan." You muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stepped further into the bathroom.
There was a brief pause before Hotch's response came through the earpiece. "What kind of plan?"
You could practically feel the disapproval in his voice. But you'd already made up your mind.
"I'm going to try and detain him."
Another pause, longer this time, as Hotch processed what you'd just said. You could almost see the disapproving look on his face. "That's not within protocol," he replied, his tone stern. You know you should wait for further instructions, for backup. But you were set on your plan, no matter how much trouble it would end up getting you in.
"I know," you admitted, your voice still hushed. You stepped over to the sink, pretending to fix your hair in the mirror as you continued your conversation. "But it's the best shot we have at him without causing a scene."
"You're putting yourself in danger," Hotch protested, his voice tight with concern. "We can't risk-"
You interrupted him, your voice firm. "I can handle myself. Just trust me, okay?"
The comm line fell silent for a moment as Hotch considered your request. Trust was a big thing in the BAU, and he knew you well enough to know that you weren't one to take unnecessary risks. But you were determined, and he wasn't about to stop you.
"Be careful," he said after a moment, the hint of reluctance still present in his tone.
"Always am," you replied with a hint of a smirk, your voice regaining some of its usual confidence. The nerves were still there, but you pushed them aside. Time to focus.
"Keep an eye on Spencer, would you? I don't want him charging in here like a bull."
You could hear a huff of amusement through the earpiece as Hotch replied, "I'll try. You know how he is."
You couldn't help but chuckle softly, knowing full well how protective Spencer could be. But you had a job to do, and you needed to remain focused.
"I'll report in once I got him cornered. Wish me luck."
With that, you pulled off the earpiece, not wanting to draw attention to yourself with any potential noises. This was it. Time to see if your plan would work or blow up in your face.
You took one last deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You'd taken care of dangerous suspects before, this was no different. At least, that's what you told yourself.
You reached a hand down to your hip, making sure the small handgun was still secure in its holster. Just in case. Now, all that was left to do was wait and see if the unsub would take the bait.
You stood at the sink for a few moments, fidgeting with your makeup and waiting for any sound that would indicate the unsub was coming. Your heart beat anxiously in your chest, the anticipation growing with each passing second.
Then, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and the scrape of shoes on the tiled floor. It was him.
You turned around slowly, forcing a casual expression onto your face. He stood a few feet away, a smirk on his lips as he regarded you. He looked more sinister now, without the cover of the restaurant between you.
"Well, look who we have here," he drawled, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. He took a step closer, his gaze roaming over your body in a way that made your skin crawl.
"Just needing a little touch-up time," you replied, trying to keep your voice light and unbothered. You leaned back against the sink, trying not to flinch as he closed the distance between you.
"Yeah? I think you look perfect to me." He was standing way too close now, his body practically pressed against yours. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and it took everything you had to maintain your composure.
You tried to subtly shift away from him, your heart racing as your back pressed against the cold porcelain of the sink. Your hand casually reached back, fingers inching closer to the gun hidden at your hip.
He seemed to notice your subtle movement and leaned in closer, his gaze flickering down to your hip. "Whatcha got there?" he asked, his voice a low, mocking whisper.
Your heart was hammering against your ribs now, but you tried to keep your voice steady. "What do you mean?" you feigned ignorance, hoping he wouldn't notice the way your palm was slowly closing around the grip of the handgun.
He leaned in even closer, his face just inches from yours. "Don't play dumb. I know you're hiding something." he reached out, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your hip, dangerously close to your gun.
You froze as his fingers brushed against your hip, adrenaline coursing through your veins. It was now or never. You had to act fast.
In a swift, fluid motion, you grabbed his hand and spun him around, pinning his arm behind his back and pushing him against the wall. The sudden movement surprised him, and he let out a grunt of surprise as his face pressed against the cold tiles.
The element of surprise gave you the upper hand for now, but you knew he was still dangerous. "You've got some skills," he grunted, a hint of anger in his voice as he tried to twist out of your grip.
You pushed him harder against the wall, applying even more pressure to his arm. He grunted again, unable to move. "And you talk too much," you retorted, keeping your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you.
You could hear his breathing getting faster, his body tense as he tried to break free. "You think you've got me cornered, huh?" he spat. "You're not the first agent to underestimate me."
"I think I've got you right where I want you," you replied, your grip on his arm tightening. You could feel his muscles straining under your grasp, but he was still pinned against the wall.
Suddenly, he let out a dark chuckle, the sound sending a chill down your spine. "And what makes you think I'm alone?"
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "What do you mean?" You demanded, your voice steady but your mind racing with the implications of his words. Was he implying that there were more people involved? People who were never mentioned in the case?
"Oh, you really think it's just me in on this?" He twisted his head to look at you, a sly smile on his lips. Despite the situation, he seemed to be enjoying this. "You've been too busy watching me, you didn't even spot the two guys outside."
Your fingers closed around the familiar grip of your gun, heart thundering in your chest as the man advanced towards you. You could hear more gunshots and commotion coming from outside, but that didn't matter right now. You had to focus on staying alive.
And take this man down.
You tried to back away, your back hitting the wall behind you as the unsub stepped closer to you, his gaze locked on yours. "Think you can shoot me, sweetheart?"
Your finger rests on the trigger, ready to shoot if needed. But the unsub is faster than you, managing to grab your gun, and it goes off, sending a bullet into the mirror by the sink, shattering it.
he sudden sound of the gunshot and shattering mirror jarred you, but you fought back against him, your adrenaline kicking into overdrive. You cursed the fact that you were wearing heels, the thin stilettos making it difficult to keep your balance.
You threw a punch, aiming for his face, but he caught your wrist, and the fight turned into a grappling struggle for the gun.
You could feel your heart sink as the gun skidded away from you, the sound of it hitting the tiled floor echoing in your ears like a bad omen. The unsub noticed it too, a victorious glint in his eyes as he took a step back from you.
"Looks like you're out of weapons," he jeered, his voice low and mocking.
You looked around, trying to think quickly. You were outnumbered, unarmed, and trapped in a confined space. The odds were not in your favor, but you refused to give up.
You took a step back, putting some distance between you and the unsub as you scanned the small bathroom for anything that could be used as a weapon. There wasn't much – a few toiletries, a paper towel dispenser, nothing that would be much use against a man twice your size.
The unsub's gaze was on you like a hawk, following your every movement. "Where you think you're going, pretty girl?" he taunted, moving forward slowly, his footsteps echoing loudly in the small space. "You're not gonna get away that easily."
With no chance of running or finding another weapon, you were left with no choice. You clenched your fists, readying yourself for a physical confrontation. You hated hand-to-hand combat, it was never your strong suit, but you had to make do.
"Bring it, buddy," you taunted, trying to sound braver than you felt.
The unsub chuckled at your challenge, stepping closer again. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that," he said, his eyes scanning your form up and down. "But you're way in over your head."
He lunged forward, his hand shooting out to grab you. You managed to dodge the first attempt, twisting your body away from his reach, but he was quick and relentless. He kept coming at you, his movements swift and fluid, like a snake.
You threw a punch, aiming for his face, but he dodged it with ease, his hand catching your wrist and yanking you to the side. You stumbled, the heel of your shoe catching on the edge of a tile. You barely managed to keep your balance, your heart hammering in your chest.
You gasped as he grabbed a handful of your hair and slammed you into the edge of the sink. The impact sent a sharp pain through your skull, making your vision swim for a moment. You tried to fight him off, but he had an iron grip on your hair, keeping you pinned.
The sudden sound of the door crashing open and the sight of your teammates appearing in the doorway sent a wave of relief through you. Hotch, Derek, and even Spencer, all holding their service weapons at the ready.
The unsub's grip on your hair loosened slightly, his eyes wide with surprise at the unexpected arrival. For a moment, it seemed like the tables had turned.
Derek quickly assessed the situation, his eyes scanning over the scene in front of him – you, pinned against the sink, the unsub's hand in your hair, the shattered mirror, and the gun lying just out of reach on the floor.
"You wanna let her go, pal?" he barked, his voice hard and unwavering.
Hotch's gaze fell on you, his eyes instantly locking onto the blood dripping down your face. Concern flashed across his features for a brief moment before he schooled his expression back into his usual stoic demeanor.
"Let go of her," he repeated Derek's command, his voice firm and commanding. "Now."
The unsub didn't move, his eyes darting around the room, calculating his options. But his grip on you loosened as he realized he was outnumbered. He released your hair, his hand dropping away from your scalp.
"Hands on your head," Hotch barked, stepping forward. Derek moved in as well, his gun still raised and aimed directly at the unsub.
Spencer lingered by the doorway, eyes wide and worried as he took in your injured state.
The unsub complied, raising his hands slowly and placing them on the back of his head. He looked resigned, his earlier bravado replaced with a resigned acceptance that he was outnumbered and outgunned.
"Turn around slowly," Hotch instructed, his voice leaving no room for argument. The unsub obeyed, turning slowly to face the wall, his hands still on his head.
Within seconds, Derek had him restrained, his hands cuffed behind his back. Hotch holstered his gun and moved swiftly towards you, Spencer right behind him.
Hotch stepped closer, his eyes scanning over you. His hand reached up to gently cup your chin, tilting your face to the side to examine your face, and the blood trickling down the side.
"How bad is it?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.
Spencer, lingering at Hotch's side, leaned in closer, concern etched in his features. "Does it feel swollen? Are you dizzy?" he rattled off, his usual rambling coming in rapid-fire.
"I'm okay," you assured them, though you leaned slightly into Hotch's touch. Your head throbbed, the adrenaline from the fight starting to wear off.
Hotch gently released your chin, his fingers still lingering near your injury for a moment longer. "We need to get that cleaned up," he said, gesturing to your temple.
Spencer had already taken a handkerchief out of his pocket, gently dabbing at the blood The white cotton quickly stained red as he cleaned the blood away.
"You'll probably need stitches," he commented, his fingers gently prodding the edges of the wound.
The sounds of your teammates clearing the scene faded into the background, leaving you alone with Spencer in the now-silent bathroom. The adrenaline was quickly being replaced by the pain from your injuries, but it was his silence that was unnerving you more than anything
Spencer was focused on cleaning the blood from your face, his touch gentle but his expression unreadable. He didn't say a word, just continued his work silently, but you could tell he was tense, his jaw set in a firm line.
Once he was satisfied that the wound was clean, he finally spoke, breaking the tense silence. "You should've waited for backup," he said, his voice cold and clipped.
He kept his gaze focused on the cut, refusing to meet your eyes. "We could've taken care of this without you getting hurt," he added, his tone bordering on accusation.
"I had it under control," you protested, but even as you said the words, you knew they weren't entirely true. You'd acted impulsively, putting yourself in danger just to prove a point.
Spencer's hands stilled, finally meeting your eyes, his gaze burning with a mix of anger and worry. "Under control? You're bleeding. You could've been killed." His voice was a growl, his frustration palpable.
He looked at you, his eyes searching your face, as if he was trying to see past your bravado and into your true state of mind.
"You can't just throw yourself into danger like that," he said, his voice softer now but firm. "We have protocols for a reason."
"I know we have rules and protocols, but sometimes situations don't allow us the luxury of following them," you muttered, your stubbornness rearing its head even in your injured state. "I didn't feel like I had a choice."
Spencer's grip on your head tightened for a moment, his jaw clenching as he fought back a more heated retort. He exhaled through his nostrils, his frustration clear.
"There's always a choice," he argued, his voice a low growl. "You just took the most reckless one."
Spencer's eyes flicked over your face, lingering on the gash on your temple for a moment before moving down to your lips. The atmosphere was thick with the kind of tension familiar to both of you, leading to late nights and whispered secrets.
"You don't get to throw yourself into danger like that and expect me not to worry," he nearly hissed.
He was standing close, his body practically leaning over you as he tended to your wound. His hands were still on your face, one gently holding the side of your head while the other held the handkerchief against your skin.
As he spoke, you could feel his breath, warm against your cheek. "Don't do that again," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't make me worry like that."
"I can't promise that I won't get myself into dangerous situations," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his stare. "It's part of the job."
There was a pause, the tension thick between you. His hands were still gently cradling your head, but his touch felt more possessive now, like he was silently claiming you as his.
"Just promise me you'll be more careful," he said, his voice pleading.
His fingers trembled slightly against your skin, the vulnerability in his voice only increasing your desire to comfort him. You reached up and gently laid your hand over his, silently reassuring him that you were okay.
"I will," you whispered. "I promise."
A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, an idea forming in your mind. You knew that one way to get past Spencer's stubborn facade was through bribery, particularly with his sweet tooth.
"How about this," you began, your voice taking on a slightly teasing tone. "I'll be more careful, and I'll buy you some donuts as an apology for worrying you
His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing through them. It was almost comical how quickly you saw him crumble, his resolve melting under the suggestion of donuts.
"You're bribing me with sugar," he stated, sounding almost offended, yet the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards.
"Is it working?" you asked, grinning up at him. You could practically see his weak willpower crumbling away. Donuts were his kryptonite.
Spencer tried to maintain his stoic exterior, but the way his eyes lit up betrayed his true feelings. He was a sucker for donuts, and you knew it.
"I mean, it's not the worst bribe," he admitted, his voice laced with resignation but also with a hint of playfulness.
You let out a soft laugh, his feigned resistance amusing you. He could pretend to be mad all he wanted, but you knew he was already imagining the taste of those sugary treats.
"I'll even get the ones with sprinkles," you promised, knowing that would practically seal the deal.
"Sprinkles?" he repeated, his voice a little too eager to be convincing. "You know me so well."
He tried to play it cool, but his eyes betrayed his excitement. It was almost endearing how easily the idea of donuts broke down his defensive walls.
"Of course I do," you said, a hint of satisfaction in your voice. "I know exactly how to get you to forgive me."
You knew that donuts were his weakness, and you were more than willing to exploit it when necessary. After all, it was a small price to pay for Spencer's forgiveness.
He looked down at you, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his expression. He was fully aware of his sweet tooth and the power it held.
"You're not playing fair," he muttered, but there was no real heat behind his words.
He knew he was defeated, and deep down, he was probably already planning which donuts he wanted.
You couldn't help but chuckle at his response. He was adorable when he was trying to resist, even though you both knew he was fighting a losing battle.
"I never said I would play fair," you teased, a cheeky smile on your face. "I play to win, and this time, winning means getting you a dozen donuts."
Spencer flushed, his cheeks coloring slightly under your touch. He hadn't expected the gentle gesture, and his usually stoic demeanor faltered for a moment.
He turned his head, his gaze meeting yours. He looked a little flustered, his usual controlled expression replaced with a hint of vulnerability.
"That's...that's a good start," he murmured, his voice a little shaky.
He swallowed, trying to regain his composure but failing. The simple act of you kissing his cheek had thrown him off balance.
"But it's going to take more than that to truly make it up to me," he said, his voice regaining a bit of its usual teasing tone.
He leaned in a little closer, the air between you growing more charged. His eyes held a hint of mischief, his smile growing wider.
"I mean, I do like donuts, but I think I'm going to need something a little more substantial as a true apology," he whispered, his voice low and suggestive.
His hand lightly rested on your cheek, his thumb tracing a gentle path over your skin. He was being playful now, his usual serious demeanor giving way to his more flirtatious side.
His hand moved down to your chin, his touch light but deliberate. He tilted your face up to meet his gaze, his eyes darkened with desire.
"Can you think of anything more substantial that might serve as an adequate apology?" he murmured, his voice dripping with suggestion.
You felt yourself shiver under his touch, your body responding to his proximity and his words. There was a hint of hunger in his eyes, and it sent a thrill through you.
"Maybe," you replied, your voice a little breathless. "But I think I'll need a hint first. I wouldn't want to disappoint my favorite genius."
Spencer's smile widened, his fingers tracing a slow path down your jawline. He leaned in, his mouth close to your ear.
"Hmm," he pretended to think, his hot breath against your skin sending another shiver down your spine. "Perhaps the apology should be a little more... physical."
His hand moved from your chin down to your neck, his fingers lightly tracing the sensitive skin there. He was so close to you now, his body almost pressed against yours.
You could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath growing a bit heavier as he continued to toy with you.
"Something that involves a lot of... touching," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.
His hand moved lower, his fingers tracing a path down your collarbone, down your arm, and finally settling on your hip. His grip was firm but gentle, his touch possessive.
He stepped even closer, his body flush against yours now. You could feel the heat of his chest against yours, his heart beating a little quicker.
"That's the kind of apology I might forgive," he murmured, his mouth hovering just above yours.
He was so close, his eyes locked with yours. His thumb continued to trail patterns on your hip, his touch both maddening and exhilarating.
His hand slid around to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. He leaned down, his mouth now just a whisper away from yours.
"I'm a very tactile person," he whispered, his voice dripping with implication. "I need to feel my apologies, not just hear them."
Your pulse quickened at his words, his proximity and his touch sending a wave of heat through you.
You reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth close to yours. "Then I guess I'll just have to make sure my apology is extra convincing," you whispered, your voice husky with desire.
You closed the remaining distance between your lips, kissing him hard.
Spencer let out a soft groan at the contact, his hand on your back tightening as he pulled you close. He responded immediately, his mouth moving against yours with a ferocity that caught you off guard.
He tasted like coffee and some lingering sweetness, a combination that was irresistibly addictive. He nipped at your lips, his hands roaming over your body, touching and caressing with an increasing hunger.
The sound of the bathroom door made you both pull away. You looked past Spencer to see Hotch and Derek.
Derek's smirk widened as he saw the two of you quickly pull away from one another.
"Well, well, well," he said, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Looks like we've interrupted something."
Hotch couldn't help but chuckle, his gaze flickering between you and Spencer. Hotch pulled out his wallet, handing Derek a 50$ bill.
You looked between Hotch and Derek, your confusion deepening at the sight of the fifties changing hands.
"What are you two doing?" you asked, your voice a mix of amusement and bemusement.
"Oh, we just had a little bet going," Derek explained, his smirk widening.
Hotch nodded in agreement, his expression still one of mild amusement. "We bet on when you two would finally stop dancing around each other and just admit your feelings," he explained.
Your confusion slowly turned to embarrassment at their words. They had been betting on your relationship?
You shot a glance over at Spencer, who was looking just as flustered as you were. He was clearly still a little worked up from your earlier encounter, his cheeks slightly flushed and his hair a little disheveled.
"You two bet money on our love life?" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of amusement and indignation.
Derek chuckled, pocketing the money Hotch had handed over. "Guilty as charged," he said, his grin unapologetic.
Hotch shrugged, his expression still mild but with a hint of amusement. "Consider it a friendly wager," he said.
"Friendly wager or not, you two are unbelievable," you muttered, still a little flustered but trying to play it off with a laugh.
Spencer, on the other hand, was trying to regain his composure. He ran a hand through his hair, fixing his disheveled locks and trying to look unfazed.
"It's not like we were the only ones making bets," Derek pointed out, his gaze flickering over to Spencer. "JJ and Penelope have had a bet going on for months."
Spencer's face flushed even deeper at Derek's words. JJ and Penelope had been betting on your relationship too?
You couldn't help but laugh at Spencer's reaction to Derek's revelation. His expression was a mix of mortification and resignation, as if he had known deep down that the rest of the team was watching the slow burn between you two.
You turned to him, nudging him playfully. "Looks like we're the talk of the office, genius."
Spencer let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit at your comment. "Great," he mumbled, running a hand through his hair again. "Just what I need, the whole team betting on our relationship."
He looked down at you, his expression a mix of resignation and fondness. "But I guess it was only a matter of time before we gave them something to talk about."
You gave him a reassuring smile, reaching up to touch his arm. "Hey, at least they seem to think we're a good match," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Hotch and Derek chuckled again at your comment, their grins still just as knowing.
Spencer let out another sigh, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. "Yeah, and they're enjoying our... progression a little too much," he grumbled, his voice still a little flustered.
Derek let out a bark of laughter at Spencer's tone. "Oh, come on, Reid. Lighten up. We're just happy you two finally got your act together."
Hotch nodded in agreement. "And I have to say, I've never seen you quite so worked up over someone before," he observed, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Spencer's cheeks colored again at Hotch's remark. He shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted at best.
"Can we please stop discussing my love life," he muttered, shifting his weight awkwardly.
Derek and Hotch exchanged another smirk, obviously enjoying their ability to embarrass him.
You guys left the restroom and the bar all together. The unsub as and the two others had been detained and taken to interrogation. The EMTs had just finished tending to your injured head the wound was cleaned and plastered but thankfully did not require stitches. You were sitting on the edge of the ambulance, a blanket draped around you
Spencer hovered over you, his expression one of concern. He had been by your side the whole time, watching as the EMTs cleaned and bandaged your wound.
Now, he was sitting next to you on the edge of the ambulance, his hand resting on your leg. He was silent for a moment, his eyes focused on your face, taking in the sight of the bandaid plastered against your forehead.
"About earlier...in the bathroom..." you began, your voice soft.
Spencer's hand stiffened a little on your leg at your sudden mention of the kiss.
He swallowed, his gaze flickering away from yours for a moment before coming back to meet your eyes. "It...it meant something," he said, his voice hesitant. His eyes searched your face as if looking for some sort of confirmation. "At least, it did to me."
You smiled at his words, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his voice. "Good," you said, your voice soft. "Because it meant a lot to me too."
You reached up, your hand gently tracing the line of his jaw. You could see the emotions flickering across his face, his usual stoic veneer cracked just a bit.
"I still owe you a dozen donuts," you reminded him, your voice light.
Yeah," he mumbled, his eyes flickering with a mixture of annoyance and resignation. "But I think I'd rather have another kiss than a dozen donuts."
He looked down, his expression a little contrite. "Not that I don't still want the donuts," he added quickly, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
You leaned forward, your hand still tangled in his hair, pulling his face down to meet yours.
The kiss was soft, a gentle press of lips against yours, filled with tenderness and sweetness. It was different from the urgent, passionate kiss you had shared in the bathroom, this one slow and deliberate.
You thought back to how it all started - how you had both agreed to pretend to be a couple to gain information during the case.
And now, here you were, sitting in the back of an ambulance, your lips still tingling from the kiss you had shared with Spencer. You never could have predicted that this charade would lead to something real, but it did.
Somehow, the lines between acting and reality had blurred, turning your pretend relationship into something completely genuine.
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I don't know a lot about Criminal Minds and the characters, so I'm sorry if this is completely different than what the characters would say or do. I haven't watched the series, but I know the basic things.
So I apologize to anyone who's watched the series and that it doesn't match their personality!!!
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x--sinner--x · 1 month ago
Text
I love the concept of coincidental rape. Like just imagine being neighbours, but we found each other on a dating app. We talk and flirt for days, and eventually we reach the point of exchanging selfies and other spicy pictures.
And then one day I noticed something. In one of the pics you sent me, I could see my own house in the reflection. You took one right by your window and that's how I realized it.
With this newfound information I had to act upon it. I eagerly knock on your door, and you don't disappoint as you answer the door quickly.
"Hey, we haven't really met but I am your neighbour," I introduce myself, "and this is my house behind me. Can I come in? I would like to get acquainted."
I didn't know such a bombshell was talking to me on a dating app while being my neighbour.
"Yeah, sure. Please come in." The funny part is, as I am walking into the hallway of your house, you are texting me on the dating app. "Sorry daddy, but I have a visitor. I'll talk to you later. 💋💋"
And my phone pings with the notification you just sent me. While I know the cause behind the ping, you have no idea as it's just a normal notification in your eyes.
"Thanks for letting me in. You have a gorgeous house." I pause for a moment to take in the view and proceed to talk again. "And here you go. I wanted to bring you a gift to introduce myself."
"Thank you for the compliment... and for the gift as well. What is it?" You ask curiously.
"It's a pretty rare vintage wine bottle. My dad had a wine cellar and was an avid wine collector. When I moved here, I brought some of his collections with me, and I thought you would enjoy it. Wanna drink with me?"
"Aw that's lovely. And yeah sure, we could have a drink." But little did you know, I had put in a little substance to knock you out in a matter of seconds.
We both make our way to your living room, where sofas are arranged around a small glass table with some glasses. You use a bottle opener and pour some for both of us. We take seats opposite each other and I take my glass of wine and bring it up to my mouth, but I don't drink it. I waited patiently until you took the first sip and it wasn't long before that happened.
"Do you live here alone? Seems pretty big for you." I ask you a simple question, just to break the ice until you fall unconscious.
"Well, this is my friend's house actually. She has moved abroad with her family, and I was searching for a house and she rented it to me a year back." You take another pause to take a few quick sips and then continue. "Damn, this wine really tastes good. Great choi---- huh.. what's happe--"
The wine glass shatters on the ground as you pass out on your side of the sofa. I placed my glass back on the table as I had accomplished what I was hoping for.
I carry your passed out body to your bedroom and place you down gently on the bed. I whip out my phone and take some pictures of you - for keepsake purposes.
I slowly proceed to take off your clothes and look at you in all of your glory. You look much more pretty than the pictures you keep sending me in a teasing way. I couldn't hold it in anymore and I come on top of you and mount my cock next to your entrance and start thrusting it inside you.
Your pussy feels so tight even as you are passed out. Your breasts flop up and down with each thrust and when I look up at you, you look just like a dainty little flower. People might always look at your cute and demure side of you, but what I'm seeing now is a whole another side of you.
Your glowing skin puts infectious thoughts into my brain, forcing me to act upon them. I give into my desires, violating your supple skin and leaving marks as I go. I smell the perfume on your hair and it only makes me all the more feral. Your breasts are so milky that my hands sink in with every squeeze.
I take your breasts into my mouth and suck on it like a baby and it feels so good. I was picking up the pace with which my cock was moving inside your pussy. I grab onto your hips as I thrust harder, reaching further parts of your pussy with subsequent thrusts.
I think I overestimated my own resistance to cum, because it didn't take me too long, combusting all that pent up cum straight up her womb. I pull my cock out and see some of it dripping out onto the sheets - and it made me only want to continue. I pushed my cock back in her hole - in every hole in fact, taking turns - until I unloaded my cum several times in each one of them - and watching my cum drip out of every hole was very satisfying to see.
I took some more photos of you in that state, and sent you those pictures in the dating app.
"No worries baby. Here are some souvenirs of our first encounter with each other. Thanks for the return present. It was really lovely. Hope you liked all of my presents.
- Your visitor. 💋💋💋"
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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year ago
Note
Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? đŸ«š
TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming
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(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)
Entrapment
A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?
~~~~
You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.
He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.
You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.
Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.
The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.
~~~~
The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.
Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.
Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.
Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?
It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.
It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.
“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.
“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?
No.
He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.
He just wouldn’t.
“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”
~~~~
Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?
Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.
It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.
In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.
But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.
Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.
~~~~
Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.
Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.
No more calculating.
No more cunning.
No more being methodic.
No more.
Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.
At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.
One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.
After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.
He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.
Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.
You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.
“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”
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m1ckeyb3rry · 1 year ago
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what it’s like to bring the jjk boys to
have dinner with your family!
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ft. fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, gojo satoru, geto suguru, ijichi kyotaka, inumaki toge, itadori yuji, kamo choso, kamo noritoshi, mahito, muta kokichi, nanami kento, okkotsu yuta, panda, ryomen sukuna, todo aoi, yaga masamichi, yoshino junpei, zenin naoya
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warnings: not all of these are romantic! reader is lowkey desi coded in some of them. reader is mentioned to have a brother, dogs, aunts/uncles, and cousins in some of them. reader slanders like 75% of the characters. honestly the characters might be ooc too i wrote this two years ago for fun and giggles and just found it again and wanted to post. also tw naoya!
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
Literally perfect
Your parents love him
Your dogs love him
You love him
Was kind of quiet at first but settled in eventually and opened up a bit
Was still kind of reserved but that’s to be expected from him
Your mother found it sweet that he tried to hide behind you when your uncles started interrogating getting to know him 
He let your younger cousins play with his shikigami so that your dogs could get a break from being bothered
Really liked the salad your mother made and asked for the recipe
1000/10 
FUSHIGURO TOJI
Actually not too bad
Was polite enough and liked the food
Showed your parents pictures of Megumi as a baby
They were suitably impressed
Your cousin asked him where he goes to the gym
He told him he doesn’t believe in gyms (thinks they’re oppressive institutions designed to disadvantage the poor?)
Did give him a discount code for some random protein powder that he’s sponsored by though
Asked your parents to donate to his charity
They were happy to do so and thought it was amazing that he has a charity
You decided not to tell them that his “charity” is literally just his bank account
4/10 for scamming your family
GOJO SATORU
Solid 7/10
Goofs around a lot but he did come so he gets points for that
Your parents hated him at first but then he showed them the album of cute Megumi pictures he has saved on his phone and they switched up
“He’s so responsible for raising a kid so young! And it’s not even his!”
Bullshit
He does NOT raise Megumi and you were the one who sent him half of those pictures 
Demoted to a 6/10 just for that but at least your parents like him
Also the fact that he had an album was cute
Somehow managed to keep the dirty jokes to a minimum
Your brother kept making fun of his eyes being so blue so halfway through he had to switch the glasses out for the blindfold
Surprisingly high spice tolerance
GETO SUGURU
Honestly really a fun guy!
Actually brought his own dish to the dinner??
AND IT WAS GOOD????
Your mother wants you two to get married now
Asked if he could take some leftovers back for Mimiko and Nanako
Which was very considerate of him actually
Your mother told him he didn’t have to return the dishes she packed the food in
Let your brother win at Scrabble
Listened to your mother talk about the auntie drama
Apparently he’s going to start putting coconut oil in his hair now
Your parents are going to adopt him and kick you out
9/10 would’ve been higher but he didn’t beat your brother’s ass at Scrabble (he wanted to “make a good impression”)
IJICHI KYOTAKA
Similar to Nanami in that he and your father got along really well
Your brother called him “goofy”
He had to go to the bathroom and cry after that
He did compose himself and came back to eat
Can handle spicy food quite well
Complimented your mother’s cooking
Brought flowers as a thank you for the dinner
Was super sweet and grateful to be invited at all
11/10 would definitely invite him again
INUMAKI TOGE
Everyone was really excited to meet him
Let your cousins play with his hair and do his make up and paint his nails
Was your partner for Charades and you two won by a LOT
Kept sneaking treats to your dogs
Your mother ordered seafood for him because he could only speak in rice ball ingredients and she thought he really wanted salmon
He did eat it though
He would be a 10/10 but he accidentally used his Cursed Speech on your aunt so 8/10
ITADORI YUJI
Somehow lit the grill on fire
Managed to put it out but he did lose his eyebrows in the process unfortunately
Looked stupid without eyebrows
Spent most of his time hanging out with the little kids
Your family actually really liked him though
He’s too sweet to dislike
Helped wash the dishes and did not break any
7/10 because you almost had to call the fire department
KAMO CHOSO
Showed up an hour late
Was friendly but kinda nervous and awkward at first
Loved the food
He and your brother are best friends now
Genuinely he gets along better with your brother than with you
Impressed your father with his history knowledge
3/10 was too perfect and now your parents keep asking why you’re not more like him
KAMO NORITOSHI
He hates kids
Spent the entire first half running away from your cousins
Once he finally escaped he got along great with the adults
They really liked how responsible and mature he is
Thought it was impressive that he’s going to be the clan head
Your aunt told you that he was a keeper and you should “marry for money, hope for love”
Started crying when your mother asked him if she could hang up his jacket for him
It reminded him of his own mother who he was forced to leave as a kid 
All of your aunts have unofficially adopted him now due to his tragic backstory
Deserves 10/10 just for being relatively normal 
MAHITO
-892378/10 your parents couldn’t see him because he’s a curse
He was very happy to hear that and nearly destroyed your house
You had to call Geto halfway through to chase him off
Your family was thrilled to see Geto again though so at least there’s that??
MUTA KOKICHI
Sent a robot in his place obviously
Everyone wanted to know why you brought a robot to dinner
They thought you had hit a new low
You had to explain that Mechamaru was basically his body because of how weak his actual body was
Nobody believed you
-3/10 he was nice but it was overall a humiliating experience
NANAMI KENTO
Cannot eat anything spicy
Started tearing up at the appetizers alone
Had a massive stomach ache afterwards and his face was red for like twenty minutes 
Your father liked talking to him about business and the economy and shit
Did not get scared when asked about his plans for the future
Actually has plans for the future
Your brother is kind of gay for him tbh (??) and threatened to marry him if you don’t 
10/10 because he still finished everything on his plate so he didn’t seem rude even though he was lowkey dying 
OKKOTSU YUTA
Tried his best
Your dogs tried to leave with him because they liked him so much
He brought gifts from Africa for your entire family
Did stop a toddler from getting kidnapped
Is physically really good at grilling but emotionally cannot handle the stress
Had a mental breakdown when you asked for a vegetable burger
Made the discovery that he really likes corn and proceeded to eat all of the corn you had bought for the night so nobody else got any 
Summoned Rika and allowed your cousins to use her as their dress up doll
Rika was very nice and enjoyed the experience
She wants to be a fashion model now
2/10 he burnt your vegetable burger and you were really looking forward to having some corn
PANDA
Is a panda
Your younger cousins thought he was adorable
You got asked multiple times if he was a furry
5/10 he was only invited because he had nothing else to do and you had to chase him with a hose beforehand because he refused to bathe
RYOMEN SUKUNA
-1244129/10
An asshole but what’s new 
Told your family to “go back to where you came from”
Degraded your parents
Degraded you
Degraded everyone really
You got into a fight with him and Gojo had to intervene
Did ask for one of your mother’s recipes so he could get Uraume to cook it for him
She did not give it to him
TODO AOI
See you thought this would be hell on earth
But it wasn’t???
Played with your dogs
Carried your cousins around on his shoulders
Your uncles were impressed by his muscles
He saved a kitten that was stuck in a tree
Did not ask a single person about their type in women
Annihilated everyone in Wii Sports Resort
Absolutely sucked at Just Dance though
He thought he was too manly for the wrist strap but then he threw the remote into the TV while playing Wii bowling and it broke
6/10 he said he’d pay for a new one
YAGA MASAMICHI
Literally your boss
Only invited him because you wanted a raise
He liked the food
Exchanged sewing tips with your mother
200/10 you got the raise
YOSHINO JUNPEI
Really cool!
Gave everyone good movie recommendations
Someone gave him a baby to hold and he nearly dropped it
Burnt his hand on the grill
Found your uncles’ shitty jokes funny so they all liked him
He was decent at debating with everyone and having intellectual conversations even though he cried whenever someone disagreed with him too harshly
Your parents were very dismayed to see the cigarette burn scars on his face
Your mother told him he could always come to your house if he needed to
4/10 because he almost gave a baby brain damage 
ZENIN NAOYA
Told your parents about your sex life
Called your mother “woman”
Your cousins have a crush on him solely based on his looks
He thinks he has a harem now
0/10 they are all like 13 years old
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teamred · 7 months ago
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obvious
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✩‌ merchant!qimir x acolyte!reader | fluff | angst | humor | 2.3k
SUMMARY | during an evening of drinking with qimir, he strangely asks if you've ever thought about dating your master.
WARNINGS | kissing, drinking, implications of a spicy time post-story
RATING | teen+
NOTES | again this is probably outside of canon but all i can say is ilq (i love qimir)
///
In the lower level of Qimir’s newest target of a store invasion, several drunken bottles of alcohol and used shot glasses clutter the front counter. You sit across from him on a high stool, as if you were a customer to his bartending. 
Which wasn’t quite far off, since he was the one who poured and bought everything for you tonight. Qimir had called for a celebration; you had successfully raided a small village nearby, seizing all valuable goods and leaving no witnesses behind. You did it for yourself, but also for your anonymous master–the same one Qimir serves. 
While you are your master’s dedicated pupil, Qimir’s tasked with being your resourceful guide. He follows you across the galaxy, always having anything you need at your disposal and knowing where to go, who to find, and how to concoct everything from anything.
Sure, he may be clumsy and occasionally overly inquisitive, but you’ve grown to like him. 
So much that you're retelling the time when a female Gungan tried to fight you in a cantina on Tatooine.
“And so, it turned out they thought I was the one who stole her ex-boyfriend, but it was the human at the table next to mine!”
Qimir breaks into a smile and nearly spits out the lomin ale in his mouth. After a fit of coughing and swallowing his drink, he shakes his head fondly. He seems truly amused and fully relaxed, though perhaps mostly due to the alcohol.
A few beats pass. It's a comfortable silence at first. 
But then he starts playing with the stem of his bottle, and the air slowly begins to shift. It shifts entirely when he asks the next question–
“Why aren't you like this around him?” 
Him referring to your shared master. 
The mixture of spicebrew, lomin ale, Corellian wine, and whatever else you had has lowered your filter completely. You answer frankly, folding out your fingers to list the reasons. 
“Firstly, he needs to get me drunk. Secondly, he’s not you, Qimir. And third, disregarding everything I just said: how do you know I'm not?”
“Am I wrong?” he presses, his eyes fixed on you as he raises an eyebrow and takes another swig of his drink.
“I mean, if he eventually shows his face to me, maybe I could. But until then
” 
Nonchalantly, you lift a shoulder and down the rest of what’s in your cup. After finishing, you lean back onto the counter, resting your chin in your upturned palm, and wait for him to fill your cup again. 
And so he does, but Qimir becomes uncharacteristically pensive. Eyes focused on serving you, rather than on you. After pouring your drink, his playfulness with the bottle turns into a tight-fisted grip. Maybe drunk Qimir was more somber. Quiet.
“Maybe
” His voice drops to a lower, deeper register than you’re used to, his eyes avoiding yours as his mouth tightens. An index finger rhythmically taps against his bottle, like a dooming countdown. “Maybe he’s not sure if you’re loyal enough to see his face.” 
The sudden slamming of your cup against the counter breaks his demeanor, and he’s back to being his usual, easily-startled self. 
“Well, that frustrates the shit out of me because I respect him!” you cry, almost yelling at him. 
Qimir’s gaze sharpens, giving you his entire attention, and you stare back resolutely. Readying yourself, as if confiding in him might reach your master’s ears, wherever he may be. Hell, he probably was listening with a device somewhere on Qimir, on you, or within the store.  
“I obey him. I've killed for him. I’d do anything for him,” your voice slightly wavers, but you push on. “I am literally devoted to him with every breath in my body.” 
There’s a sting in your eyes, but you refuse to let yourself show weakness, even if it’s just Qimir in front of you. Bringing the cup to your mouth, you let the burn scald your throat, drowning any trace of sadness or frustration. 
You chug for some time. After a while, Qimir lifts a hand, but you abruptly stop drinking and interject with a tired chuckle and small smile; he awkwardly drops his hand. 
The serious moment passes swiftly with a twinkle in your eye. You silently thank the alcohol for that.
“Although, maybe that's half a lie.”
In the corner of your vision, you catch the intrigued quirk in Qimir’s eyebrow, along with a flicker of anger. Barely noticeable, but it’s there, and you wonder why he would be angry.
You waggle a finger. “Keep this between us, but”—you lean in closer and drop your voice to a whisper—“I'm probably more devoted to you than to him.”
You exchange a glance, and the expression on his face shifts from seriousness to amusement, the flicker of anger completely dissipated. He mirrors your earlier stance, resting his chin in his palm. 
“That's only because I help you all the time,” he says, granting you a soft smile that reaches his eyes. 
This is a rare moment from Qimir, so you try your best to commit it to memory. Remembering his warm glow, the crinkles around his eyes, and how close he is to you. So close that the hint of the alcohol in his breath brushes your face, but it’s not as strong as you thought it would be.
“Well, there's that
” you admit, nodding, and you break eye contact as you say–
“But you're also my friend, Qimir.”
You barely breathe the last few words out in a whisper, almost as if you were ashamed to say it. But you aren’t–worry merely runs rampant as you fear rejection or something of a similar shade, despite it being just a platonic confession. 
“I am?” 
His reaction causes you to peer back at him. He draws his head back with a tilt, and you’ve never seen him so puzzled before. There’s a brief pause as he gives it some thought, his eyebrows furrowing in contemplation.
Then, he nods his head and his lips curl into a crooked, almost cocky, grin. 
“Huh. I guess I am.”
You clutch your chest in jest and muster your best puppy-eyed frown. “Ouch, if I knew this relationship was that one-sided, I would’ve asked him for another one of his followers to replace you.” 
The glimmer in his eyes reads as good-natured, but the blatant flexing of his grip against the edge of the counter says otherwise. 
“You wouldn't.”   
You push back, jutting out your chin and getting close to him again with a flash of a smirk. 
“Oh, I absolutely would.”
You stare at each other, holding your ground. 
But then he breaks the little game when he slightly drags his lower lip between his teeth, followed by a fleeting glance towards your mouth.
Your breathing hitches. 
In an instant, the moment shatters when Qimir clears his throat and pulls back.  
“Do you
” Qimir begins hesitantly, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing a random spot on the counter. He inhales deeply, almost as if he’s steeling himself, then continues, “Have you ever thought you and him could be, like, something more?”
“You mean
” You squint, searching for the right words. “...have I ever thought about dating my master?” 
“Mm-hmm.” 
You raise an eyebrow and stare blankly at him. 
“You've met him, right? We’re talking about the same guy?”
Before he answers, he sips again from his bottle. You become entranced by Qimir’s Adam’s apple as it bobs with each glug. Maybe these thoughts were being filtered through beer goggles, but if Qimir wanted to know about your current ranked dating choices, he'd probably be at the top of your list. 
A soft pop sounds as his lips detach from it. The word kissable flashes through your mind. 
“I mean, I know he's not really the talkative type but–”
“But what if he's butt-ass ugly?” you blurt out in a screech, pressing your hands into your cheeks in your drunken state.
“He is not butt-ass ugly,” Qimir cuts in, more defensively than you expect. 
You drop your hands and chortle loudly, so much that it echoes throughout the store. In disbelief, you grin ear to ear. 
“I thought you said you haven't seen him before!” you say, holding out an arm. 
“I—I didn't. Haven't! I haven’t,” he stammers, raising a hand and shaking his head. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “But why must you assume he's ugly?”
You groan, shaking closed fists and tapping them to your forehead. “Why else wouldn’t he take off that stupid mask?” 
You glance up, seeing Qimir’s nostrils flare as he opens his mouth, but you quickly cut him off. 
“And why would I like him that way anyway? All he does is just bark orders and share wise, yet oddly cryptic, phrases.” 
“Hey, so do I,” Qimir retorts, flicking the tip of your nose with his finger. The force he uses makes your nose sting a bit, but you’re sure he didn’t mean to flick you that roughly. In response, you ruffle your nose petulantly. 
You could definitely get used to being like this with Qimir more often. 
“Yeah, but you’re not as cryptic,” you point out, “and he’d be lucky if he was half as handsome as you, Qimir.”
You lightly touch his arm, expecting him to bask in your compliment, but he catches you off guard with a chuckle instead. 
“Why are you laughing at my compliment?” you ask, somewhat hurt.
“I'm just enjoying your company, my”—he hesitates for a second, as if catching himself from saying something else, before meeting your gaze—“my friend.” 
The way he says friend hangs in the air, carrying an unspoken weight. He shakes his head, as if brushing off a thought, and laughs awkwardly. “I’ve gotta get used to that.”
Surprisingly, he continues to dwell on the subject of you and your master. “I mean, if you really think about it, the guy's probably lonely. Probably also likes you a lot more than he lets on and–”
“Okay, stop.” You hold both hands out. “Why are you trying to set me up with him?” You gasp, “Oh, my god–is he your brother?” 
“Wow, time flies by so fast!” Qimir exclaims dramatically, quickly getting up from his stool and practically tripping on his own feet. “It’s getting late, and I’m gonna head to bed. Good night!” 
In the blink of an eye, he’s already darting upstairs to his temporary bedroom. 
“Qimir, answer me!” you call out. “Is he a distant cousin? You must’ve seen him before if he’s related to you.” 
“Good night, my friend!” he hollers back.
“Qimir, get back here!”
“Sweet dreams! And drink some water before you go to bed!” 
Even in moments like these, Qimir still manages to have the final say, his words always laced with the utmost care for you.
///
A few hours go by, the moonlight shining strongly in the night sky. In the comfort of your makeshift bed nestled in one of the corners of the store, you toss and turn aimlessly. Your mind replays everything with Qimir from the last few hours.
And then realization hits you like a sack of duracrete bricks.
You bolt upright up from the bed and switch between muffling a scream in your pillow and smacking it against your face. 
How could you have been so blind to how obvious it all was?
Throwing aside your covers, you carefully and quietly tiptoe upstairs. 
At the top of the stairs, with the help of a few burning candles nearby, you peek at the sight of Qimir snoring softly on his side, arms flopped in different directions; it warms your heart.
You approach and take a seat on the empty side of his bed, summoning courage to gently trace the contours of his face, following the sharp lines of his jaw. He stirs awake moments later, turning to face you directly. 
“Hey, what’s up?” Qimir mumbles groggily. He rubs his eyes. “Everything all right?” 
“Qimir, can you pass a message onto my master?” you ask urgently. 
“Right now?” he groans in annoyance, sitting up. “Can't it wait until morning?” 
“No, I'm sure you can pass it on now. It’s a pretty simple message.” 
You lean in. It’s a quick kiss as your hand rests on his arm. It has to be quick, or else you might change your mind. 
Plush lips press against yours. It’s still and tense for a beat, and then he replies with a slight kiss back. He’s the one who breaks away first, but he leans his forehead against yours.
“Uh, I
 You want me to kiss him?” he asks in confusion. 
You slide your hands to the nape of his neck.
“If you mean kissing yourself, then yes, Master.” 
Like flipping a switch, Qimir’s demeanor transforms into something entirely else. His presence intensifies, exuding confidence and strength you’re unused to. His eyes darken, locking onto yours with a gaze that can penetrate your soul. 
His rich, deep voice returns from before, now tinged with authority.
“Took you long enough, my acolyte.”  
This Qimir—your master—moves swiftly with urgency. His grip on your body is firm, almost possessive. His kisses are passionate, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor. 
“Told you I'm not ‘butt-ass ugly,’” he mumbles, almost growling, between kisses. You giggle, but your giggle quickly turns into a moan as he presses his body firmly into yours.  
“And my mask isn’t stupid. I'll have you know it saved me so many–”
You silence your master with another kiss, focusing on the present and pushing aside debates that could be saved for later.
For now, all you want is to remain in the comfort of his bed, letting the night truly begin, marking the beginning of what your master and you have unknowingly long awaited for. 
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flowersforthemachines · 1 month ago
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Some facts about Neve (and Tevinter) gathered from the banters
I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).
Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)
Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.
Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later
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About Neve:
General:
Neve isn’t rich, and her best coat is a gift from a grateful tailor after she saved his warehouse from an arsonist
Neve’s coat is woven with enchantments to resist fire and lighting 
Neve has never done blood magic. She is against it on principle and judges those who use it 
Neve doesn’t seem to like entertaining extreme hypotheticals since she reacts to Harding’s questions like “What would you take with you to a deserted island?” with asking why she would end up in such situations in the first place 
Neve wouldn’t want gems on her leg, because she thinks they would get stolen within a day of working in Minrathous, and she generally prefers to keep a low profile while on the job
However, she still considers saving up for a new, fancier leg to have more fashion choices. She likes Taash’s idea of getting a ruby inlay for it
Neve never visited Rivain before joining the Veilguard, though she now finds its beaches charming
Ever since she was a baby, Neve was stubborn and asked too many questions (and hated unanswered questions as well)
Neve likes Qunari food but thinks it’s very spicy
Neve likes seafood 
Neve doesn't drink tea
Neve isn’t really close with her family
Neve once tried to use a wisp-repelling artefact the Veil Jumpers found to get rid of the wisps in her room, but it only attracted wisps from the entire Lighthouse
Neve isn’t interested in exploring the mysteries of the Lighthouse because she has enough mysteries on this side of the Veil
(If Rook chooses to save Minrathous) Neve sends civil engineers to assist in Treviso 
On work: 
Neve didn’t want to be a detective when she was a child (not as if in she didn’t like the idea, she just didn’t consider it), though she didn’t have any dream career either 
Neve got into detective work by picking up odd jobs and building a reputation of being good at finding things. Eventually, she was hired to find someone’s brother, a case nobody else wanted to pick up, and her career took off 
Neve agrees that she is cynical and married to her job, but doesn’t consider herself ‘serious’  
Neve allegedly has a system for sorting her papers (Emmrich and Rana are sceptical about its existence) 
(If Neve becomes Dock Town's protector) Elek is implied to visit the Lighthouse again multiple times. Taash mentions seeing him poking around the library. Neve explained that he thought he could grab some fade-touched items to sell, and told him to run the plan by the Caretaker (one would think they did not approve)
On life in Minrathous: 
Neve was born and raised in Minrathous
Neve has never been inside the Archon’s Palace
(If Neve chooses to become Dock Town’s inspiration) Neve doesn’t regret letting Aelia live because she got information on Venatori out of her, and her death wouldn’t change the past
(If Neve chooses to become Dock Town’s inspiration) Neve gets to take a break for once in her life because Rana keeping an eye on the Dock Town actually helps
(If Neve chooses to become Dock Town’s inspiration) People gossip about Neve and Rana after they start their agency :)
Neve describes the rain of Minrathous as "cold fingers down your neck", but she misses it now that she's away from the city. The sound helps her fall asleep 
Neve’s entire apartment could fit inside villa Dellamorte’s dining room 
One of Tevinter papers referred to Neve as "Dock Town dirt-chaser," and to Emmrich as "sinister foreign necromancer”
A Tevinter paper called The Minrathous Herald once wrote that Neve should be exiled. The same paper called Shadow Dragons “traitors to the Empire” 
Neve never runs out of ink because she's on good terms with Minrathous ink sellers 
There is however one banter where she runs out of ink (I think it was with Davrin). Make of that what you will. 
On the Shadow Dragons: 
Neve didn't know Dorian personally until she joined the Shadow Dragons
Neve figured out the Viper's identity even before joining the Dragons. Her not revealing it to the public is one of the reasons he recruited her
Tarquin calls Neve a pain in the ass 
Relationships with companions: 
Neve calls Manfred ‘Fred’ (he seems to like that)
Manfred learns to say Neve's name (likely only happens if you revive him at the Necropolis, though I am not sure)
Neve introduces Lucanis to a spice shop in Dock Town
Harding describes Neve’s tastes in coffee as “made of gutter water filtered through an old sock”
Lucanis once showed Neve’s coffee to Viago. He found it “unsettling” 
Davrin thinks drinking Neve's coffee is worse than the Joining
Neve spoils Assan (but denies that accusation)
Neve is rather quick to consider questioning corpses with Emmrich’s help for her cases 
Neve is very apprehensive about lichdom and the perspective of Emmrich eventually turning evil (just like Emmrich isn't thrilled about her taking over the Threads for similar reasons)
Lucanis is concerned about Neve taking over the Threads. Mainly, about how much they are paying her
Neve has multiple banters with Taash discussing her relationship with Lucanis. Taash initially thinks of it as some sort of predator-prey dynamic, but Neve says she is not into that and explains that they are taking it slow and cautious. They both went through a lot of pain in their lines, which they tend not to show for different reasons
Neve's relationship with Lucanis is also more than she usually looks for with people
Neve takes Taash to Hal’s fish fry stand. Taash loved it :)
Taash offers Neve help on ladders in case she may need it/it gets stuck on steps due to being hook-shaped, mentioning they knew a Lord of Fortune who lost a hand and whose shoulders hurt while climbing because of it. Neve seems to appreciate the gesture, even though she can handle herself
Neve thinks Taash is nice to work with, offering help without being overbearing like some people are
Neve asks Taash to teach her Gold Thief (a Lord of Fortune dice game), so she can play it with the Shadow Dragons, and then subsequently gets beaten by the Viper
On Tevinter: 
Fashion is important in Tevinter because a good outfit lets people know you are under the protection of someone powerful
There aren’t many mages in Docktown, which is one of the reasons the government doesn’t care about it 
The big red cat near Halos’s stand is named Ferdinand
Stains on clothes can be cleaned with magic
You can get pineapples anywhere in Minrathous 
Neve calls the magic used for the lights in Minrathous a party trick, but Emmrich considers it a high-level enchantment because of its quality and duration
Tevinter doesn’t regulate the charms sold in the market (which is why there are a lot of scammers who sell fakes) 
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k2ntoss · 8 months ago
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currently thinking about jason getting his girl pregnant after weeks of talking about how comfortable they both feel with the thought of forming a family together and i couldn't help but picture this.
after a couple of months of trying to conceive jason comes back after a particular hard night of patrolling, he smells like sweat and something else besides that lingering smell of gunpowder that lingers on his forearms and sometimes on his chest after he uses his guns; the guy is too tired to get totally undressed and go shower himself so when he sees you laying comfortably on your bed he collapses next to you, his arms by reflex reaching for you and pulling you into a vice-like grip until you start stirring from your sleep, nose tingling at the smell of the gunpowder that suddenly made you nauseous.
he's stood up and still on the doorway of the bathroom the second you darted in there and hunched over the toiled, the sense of alarm in jason's mind is flaring and he can't help but kneel next to you, one hand holding you hair and the other one on you waist to try and comfort you and after you are steady he's quick to ask "are you okay? do you still feel sick, princess?" his voice low and concerned, his eyes seeking for any sing of discomfort on your face as he leans in closer.
"jay, you smell too much like gunpowder" you croak as your nose scrunches at the spicy odor that hits you again, making you hold a subtle gag that lights something in jason's mind and after having you think about it there's not a single person you could think of that would be a better father than jason.
the guy is quick as a lightning to go shower, he takes his sweet time scrubbing his skin until he is 100% sure there's no lingering smell from his patrol and it's not until he has put his clothes into the laundry machine and changed into something clean that he crawls back into bed with you. because jason might have his flaws but he's always making sure you have what you deserve.
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moonstruckme · 8 months ago
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May I pleaseeee request poly!marauders x reader (gn or fem, up to you) where r and siri come home at like, 4 am from a rave (or clubing), and they are in makeup and have glitter all over them, and their exhausted and only slightly tipsy (from alchohol or drugs, up to whatever you think would be more fun to write) so they try to get cleaned up without waking up james or remus but ultimately fail?
I totally understand if you don't wanna write it đŸ«¶
Thank you for requesting lovely!
cw: mention of alcohol
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
When Remus wakes, he doesn’t at first know why. James is asleep next to him, snuffling softly, his cheek smushed into the pillow and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. Remus’ fingers are woven loosely in the curls by his forehead. 
Then there’s a muffled thump from down the hall, followed by some hushed cursing, and he remembers. 
“They definitely moved the couch closer to the door to fuck with us.” Then, a moment later: “I am being quiet. Doll, you’re projecting.” 
Get a drop of alcohol in Sirius, and he becomes the worst whisperer in the world. 
Remus can hear your attempts at shushing your boyfriend as he slips out of bed. James is dead to the world, but he stretches out an arm as Remus’ fingers unwind from his hair as though feeling for where he’s gone. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, Remus is gladder than ever that he and James had begged off this particular excursion. It’s past five in the morning. 
He goes toward the light they left on for you by the door, but you and Sirius have already migrated to the kitchen. Remus props himself up on the doorframe, wrapping his arms around his middle, and allows himself to just watch the two of you for a minute. 
“Water first,” you’re saying, voice hushed far more effectively than Sirius’. You grab two glasses with extreme care from the cabinet, setting them down slowly so as not to make any noise. 
“I think this makeup is going to be crusted onto me forever,” Sirius whines. “I’ll never be able to get it all off.” 
“I don’t know if I have the energy to try,” you admit. 
You do both have an awful lot of glitter on you. What was intentional and precise when you left that evening has now traveled down onto your cheeks, leaving you lustrous and disheveled-looking. When Sirius closes his eyes, tipping his head back as he leans against the countertop, the black makeup around his eyes makes them look like glittering chasms. Remus notes that your shoulder shimmers with a similar color, like he’d laid his head on it at some point in the night. 
You pass Sirius a glass and hoist yourself up onto the counter, the both of you falling quiet while you drink your water. You sigh at the end of it. 
Sirius hums in response, a tired sort of smile lifting his lips. He leans his head against the side of your arm and lets his eyes fall closed again. 
“Did you have fun?” he asks, softer now than he has been since you came inside. 
“Mhm.” You set your empty glass down, using that hand to comb strands of hair away from Sirius’ face. 
Remus' heart nearly turns to mush as he watches the two of you, each clearly exhausted and yet still trying to take care of the other. You, you’ve always been open with your tenderness, but Sirius has taken years to get to where he is now. It still surprises Remus sometimes to see it, his boyfriend’s caring out from under the shroud of insouciance and joking. 
“I have an idea,” you say. Your tone is warm and lulling, not unlike your boyfriend’s. “We could take the spicy crisps into the living room, and lay on the couch to eat them.” 
Eyes still closed, Sirius smiles. “What about bed?”
“Rem won’t let us eat them in the bed.” 
Remus suppresses a chuckle. 
“I know, sweetness. I thought you were tired.” 
You sigh, long and heavy. “I am. I think I’m so tired I almost don’t care if I go to sleep. I might die if I don’t have a spicy crisp, though.” 
Sirius seems to be contemplating this when James comes up behind Remus. His hair is askew and glasses falling down the bridge of his nose, and he has the glazed-over look of someone who themselves is not quite sure if they’re awake or dreaming. 
“How wasted are they?” he asks, voice weighted with drowsiness. 
“Not very, I don't think,” Remus murmurs. 
That’s when Sirius notices them. He picks his head up, nudging your knee with his elbow so you look over. 
“Oh.” You shrink a bit, expression pinching. “Sorry.” 
You so thoroughly look it that Remus can’t even feign upset at having been woken up. “Come to bed,” he says fondly. 
Neither of you move but Sirius opens his arms, beseeching Remus to come to him instead. Remus, too tired to pretend at being any less in love than he is, goes. 
“I thought you’d be in earlier,” he says into Sirius’ hair. It smells like sweat and a little bit like smoke. 
“The cabs were busier than we expected,” Sirius replies, voice even sleepier now that his face is in Remus’ neck. “We walked a while and then caught a bus once they started running.” 
Remus makes a disgruntled sound, but it’s James who says, “You should’ve called.” His voice sounds muffled, and Remus looks over to find it’s buried in your chest. You’re smiling faintly with your face turned down into his curly mop, your hands on the back of his head and his holding your thighs. “We would’ve come and got you.” 
“I wanted to,” Sirius defends himself, removing his face from Remus’ neck to cut you a teasing look. “She wouldn’t let me.” 
James lifts his head to look up at you. 
“I didn’t want to wake you,” you say, voice soft as though still trying to accommodate the sleep he really should be getting. “You both have work in the morning.” 
James groans at the reminder, hiding his face in your chest again. Remus sets a hand on top of his head, scratching James' scalp consolingly. 
“You should always call,” he tells you, just for the record. But really he’s in no mood to argue. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you sigh, slipping off the counter. 
James wraps his arms around your shoulders, forcing the both of you to walk with small, plodding footsteps, and Sirius also refuses to be out of Remus’ hold, clinging to his arm as you all start down the hallway. The bed is no sooner in sight that you let out a low whine. 
Sirius echoes it when you say, “We still have to take off our makeup.”
“What if,” James suggests, “you sleep now, and when Remus and I get up in an hour we can take it off for you while you stay in bed?” 
James hardly has time to let you go before Sirius is hanging off him, almost teary with gratitude. “God, I love you. That’s the best idea I ever heard.” 
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everythingspokenfor · 21 days ago
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𝐑𝐱𝐠𝐡𝐭 đźđ§đđžđ« 𝐩đČ 𝐧𝐹𝐬𝐞
Pairing: Bakugou x reader
Summary: Bakugou didn't realise that the hand whose help he rejected would be the one he holds for the rest of his life...
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Bakugou who swears to hate your guts from that day he met you, the U.A. entrance exams, calls you an extra getting in his way when you were clearly trying to help him. Who sends you the nastiest side eye when you plop down next to him, on your assigned seat.
Bakugou who refuses to listen to any of your suggestions when you both end up being partners for projects. Drives you to the point that you end up having to go to Aizawa to hopefully get your partner changed.
Bakugou who realises that maybe your input isn't as bad as he originally thought when Aizawa forces you both to communicate. Who won't admit but he does think that you are a smart one, and he would gladly partner up with you again.
Bakugou who is smug when you both end up getting best grades on your project, who is even giddy to work with you. Who spends hours convincing himself that he is only excited because you are smart, that's it.
Bakugou who ends up sparring with you because Kirishima had a mission, who realises that not only are you smart but also strong, using your quirk in a way that leaves him baffled.
Bakugou who still picks fights with you, both still at each other's throats, it's worse now that you both are aware of each other's strengths and weaknesses. You bicker over movies during movie night, bicker over what song to play during trips.
Bakugou who is surprised to find you at his door after he was kidnapped, his mother ecstatic to see a girl coming over to see him, teasing him about finally growing up.
"The hell?! How do you know my address? Stalkin' me?" Bakugou spits out, glaring at you with his arms crossed.
"Aizawa told me, plus I wanted to meet my friend." You chimed, the word 'friend' slightly dragged out. He stared at you in disgust, cringing at your way of establishing friendship.
"Also I got spicy garlic noodles, the one you like." You had him the white bag, passing him the container.
"Did you poison it?" He was already suspicious of your presence in his house, let alone you getting him his favourite noodles.
"Can't even be kind in the economy," you spoke dramatically, hand coming to rest on your forehead, as you pretended to wipe your tears.
"I got it cause I had it few days ago, and it reminded me of you." You professed, looking over to a clock and concluding it was time to leave.
Bakugou who spends the evening thinking about how you thought of him, when you had those noodles, how you remembered how much he liked them, how you got it for him.
Bakugou who acknowledges you as a friend by the end of first year, something a little more by the first half of your second year, the war making him realise just how much everyone mean to him, just how much you mean to him.
Bakugou who somewhat considers the idea that might like you, more than a friend should, and he is scandalized, the possibility of liking you like that makes him avoid you. He doesn't need distractions, doesn't need anything to prevent him from reaching no. 1, so he avoids you.
Bakugou who starts skipping movie nights with you, starts sparring with Kirishima more often, starts taking evening shifts at Best Jeanist's agency to avoid you. Who still cares for you tho, he quietly asks Iida to help you with academics because he knows you'll get anxious, who asks Uraraka to spar with you. Who hopes his distance doesn't affect you, hurt you as much as it hurts him.
Bakugou who is startled when you show up at his door, in the middle of the night, few weeks later, tired of him avoiding you without any explanation, desperate to get him back in your life.
You look tired, eyes red and puffy like you just cried, cheeks sunken.
"I am sorry, whatever I did, I am sorry," You sniffed, eyes glossy with a new wave of tears, Bakugou felt like shit, it was his fault, was the one that wanted to distance himself and here you were apologising.
"I am sorry, I am an idiot," He confessed, hands coming up to press against his forehead," Shouldn't have pushed you awa-." He barely has a chance to continue before you wrap your arms around him, Bakugou shoves his face into the crook of your neck, finally letting go of his tears.
"I just wanna know why, I don't want our friendship to ever break, Suki." You admit, moving past him into his room, pulling him with you.
"I was being stupid," He sighed out tiredly, choosing to simply hold you tightly against his chest.
Bakugou who stays behind during 2nd year prom, with you because you didn't feel like going, who lies about not having a suit when you feel guilty about making him stay with you, both of you spend the night in his dorm, watching movies all night long. If you weren't so enamored by him you would have noticed the burnt orange tie peeking through his closet.
Bakugou who passes you notes during boring lectures, drawing little caricature of people around, writing down little notes. Who messes up his sleep schedule tutoring you before exams, helping you study, sharing his notes.
Bakugou who despite being in 3rd year still argues with you, still squabbling over which movie to watch, what to cook, but there is a difference in the way you look at each other, there is no longer hatred in your eyes, only fondness and maybe something more.
Bakugou who helps you patch up injuries after rough missions, who holds your tightly against his chest when you sob over how sometimes you don't think you are strong enough. Who cleans you up, tucks you in bed and stay with you till you feel better.
Bakugou who never bother entertaining any of the girls that come his way, eyes set on you only. Who no longer gets mad when someone from his friends group points out how much of a lover boy he is. It's true he thinks.
Bakugou who shows you his shoujo manga collection, lets you borrow them only on one condition, that you read them to him, who spends countless evenings with his head resting on your thighs, listening to you read.
Bakugou who takes you to the bookstore on your days off, both of you skipping between the shelves, pulling out a pile of mangas that you end reading all afternoon. He makes a note of the ones you liked, writing them down in his phone.
Bakugou who tags along with the squad to a night out at the club, only because you decided to go, he helps you get ready, picking out your dress, helping with your eyeliner.
The music was loud, too loud for you, Bakugou had his arm around you protecting you from the dancing crowd, if you had it your way you would have pressed yourself in his arms and hide away, but you didn't. Mina was leaving for internship after graduation, you needed to let go for tonight.
You pull away from Bakugou, semi-yelling in his ear about wanting to use the bathroom, he almost pulls away from the group, ready to accompany you there. You shake your head at him, signalling that you'll be back soon.
Finishing up, you leave the bathroom, only to be stopped by a guy your age, he was clearly drunk, slurring his words, trying to move closer, he tried to hold your hand, pulling at it. Had it been any other time, you would have knocked some sense into him. But today you were not feeling well. Your eyes darted around, trying to call someone, before they landed on Bakugou.
Bakugou who immediately starts moving towards you, when he notices your panicked look, slams the glass on to the table, in few wide strides he was already looming over the creep,"The fuck, do you think you are doing?" He growled, sliding a hand behind your back and pulling you onto his chest.
The guy scoffs before looking around in embarrassment, too afraid to stand up to Bakugou he moves away from you both, stumbling out the club.
Bakugou looks down at you, with soft eyes pulling you away from the crowd into a empty hallway. "You gonna be okay?" He asked in hushed tone, stepping back to give you space, but you cried out, hastily hugging him tight, as you breathed unevenly against him.
He wrapped his arms around you, fingers running through your hairs, the other protectively against your back. It took a few minutes for your breath to even out, and you slowly pulled away, slightly cringing at the wet stain on his shirt from your tears and potentially snot.
"I am sorry." You said, voice still a little hoarse from the crying, you didn't move to far away from him, still in his embrace, still in his arms.
"For what?" He queried.
"For being weak, for not being able to defend myself, for the snot on your shirt." You rasped, letting out a bittersweet laugh at your pathetic self.
"Don't ever apologise for asking for help, you are more than capable of taking care of yourself," He spoke softly, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and whipping your nose,"you just needed a little help today."
You nod your head, stepping away, glancing towards the crowded hall nervously. "Do you wanna go home, we can leave now." He hums, hand coming to caress your cheek, palm subtly covering your view of the party.
"I would like that." You lean against his palm, Bakugou helps you gather you stuff and move you both out of the club, hand never leaving yours.
Bakugou who is always with you, whether it be sitting in class, or walking in the hallway, at one point even Aizawa stopped berating you for staying in each other's room past curfew.
Staying in each other's room becomes such a prominent habit, that you can no longer distinguish between his and yours. Closets filled with both of your clothes, textbooks and notebooks scattered between shelves.
Bakugou who loves adorning you in his merch, official and unofficial both. Constantly getting you t-shirts with skulls on them, sometimes skulls with bows because he thought they were cute.
Bakugou who gets you tank-tops and t-shirts so similar to his own, that people end up asking if he actually let you borrowed them or if they are new, who gets so smug that people think you are wearing his clothes.
Bakugou who knows how cold your ears get during winter, gets you big, puffy, orange earmuffs, with boom written on the headband connecting them.
Bakugou who makes a habit of hovering over you, ends up giving you scary dog privileges, making any guy avoid you, slots his head into the crook of your neck, when someone tries to flirt with you. Somehow always attached by your side.
Bakugou who gives every guy that tries to ask you a stink eye, glaring at the guy from over your shoulder, scaring away majority of them. You have to lie to all the guys that ask you out for 3rd year prom that you aren't going, only to show up in matching outfits with Bakugou.
Bakugou who shrugs his shoulders when Kirishima questions him 'What's going on between you two?', eyes darting towards you as you shyly duck your head into his neck, Bakugou leans down pressing a kiss against your forehead.
Bakugou who confesses to you few months after your graduation, tickles your side relentlessly when you pretend to think about his proposal, you both quite down as he presses your foreheads together, breaths heavy as you wind down. You murmur a 'yes' before leaping in to kiss him.
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downbad4sylus · 1 month ago
Text
“This mark is different”
(part 3 to “I killed you”)
synopsis: You and Sylus return to the base from the field of flowers where he shows you his horns.
content: NSFW; 18+ MDNI; smut with some plot; sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; virgin!sylus (i am of the opinion that sylus wouldn’t so much as breathe near another woman who isn’t MC); virgin!reader; kissing; oral (fem receiving); p in v; soft sex; slightly rough sex; no protection (wrap it up kids); multiple orgasms; idk if this counts as monster fucking but sylus has horns and a tail; mostly proofread
word count: ~3.5k
tags: @travelerth; @midiplier; @satansdaughter123; @bookfreakk
a/n: massive thank you once again to everyone who’s read, liked, and reblogged parts 1 and 2, i genuinely can’t express how happy it makes me that so many of you have enjoyed these little stories :’) anywaayyy, in honor of the new banner and all the new spicy content (bless our game developer overlords) here is part 3 where things between you and Sylus get a little spiicccyyyy
Okay, so when Sylus asked if you wanted to go back to the base and see his horns, you might have taken him a little too literally.
What you thought was him innocently taking you to his bedroom—warning the twins on your way that he still didn’t want to be bothered—turned out to be far from that.
Which was how you found yourself currently pinned beneath him on his bed, tongues tangling and lungs screaming for air, no horns in sight. Or tail. Or wings.
You lightly pounded a fist against his chest. “Sylus
I need
to breathe
”
Sylus was loath to part from you, but did so regardless, taking the opportunity to marvel at the sight of you before him. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, chest heaving. You were beautiful, perfect, and his.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked, making sure he had your consent before he continued.
You bit your lip, and he nearly lost control then and there. How many times did he have to tell you to stop doing that?
“How far are we going?” you asked softly.
“As far as you want, sweetie,” Sylus assured. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
“I, um, haven’t really done anything before,” you confessed, turning your face away so you didn’t have to look at him.
Sure, you had a few boyfriends throughout the years but you’d never had more than a heated makeout session, it was usually the reason why those relationships ended. You weren’t a prude or anything, you were just saving yourself for when someone really special came along. Or maybe you’d unknowingly been waiting for Sylus to come along.
Sylus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to his. “Me neither.”
Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “Really?”
He nodded. “I’d never give myself to anyone but you.” He released your chin in favor of dragging a finger down your neck before wrapping his hand around it, careful not to choke you. “I do, however, have a very good memory.”
Your heart thundered in your chest. You wanted him. You needed him. And most importantly, you trusted him.
“Okay,” you breathed.
“Okay what, sweetie? I need you to tell me exactly what you want,” Sylus said, his thumb rubbing soothingly along the length of your neck.
“I want you, Sylus, all of you,” you said. “I want you to make me feel good.”
“Oh, Y/N, I’ll do so much better than that.”
He released your neck, trailing his large hand over your chest and down your stomach until his fingers teased the hem of your shirt.
“May I?” he asked.
You nodded. “But I get to take off yours next.”
Sylus chuckled. “Are you trying to make a deal with me right now?”
You nodded again, smiling. “For every one thing you strip off of me, I get to strip something off of you.”
His ruby-red eyes sparkled. “And those are your terms?”
“Those are my terms.”
“Then it’s a deal.”
You eagerly sat up and held your arms above your head. Sylus huffed, clearly amused by your enthusiasm, and gripped the bottom of your shirt in both his hands. In one smooth motion, he removed it, tossing it aside as his gaze roved hungrily over your now-bare skin.
When you reached for his shirt, intent on running your hands all over his delicious abs, you suddenly found yourself back against the mattress, wrists pinned to the pillows.
You blinked to find Sylus hovering above you sporting a positively wicked smile.
“Sylus! What are you doing?” you exclaimed, fighting to free your wrists.
He cocked his head. “You never said when you got to rid me of my clothes,” he drawled in that infuriatingly smug tone of his. “You need to be more specific when setting your terms, sweetie.”
Your mouth popped open. This was what you got for trying to make a deal with the King of Deals himself.
“Now, let’s get rid of this next,” he mused, trailing his fingertips along the underwire of your bra.
“How are you—“
Black-red mist enveloped your bra, tickling the skin underneath. It took only a moment for Sylus’s Evol to make quick work of it, the undergarment reduced to black and red specks of dust, leaving your upper half fully exposed.
Sylus’s pupils dilated as his hand gently cupped your breast, and you whimpered when his thumb brushed over your nipple.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “And all mine.”
He was barely touching you yet your core had already gone molten and was beginning to throb with need. You needed more of him, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his co—
A jolt of pleasure shot straight to your core, tearing a loud moan from your lips as Sylus closed his own over your neglected nipple. He continued, tongue laving and teeth biting until he switched to your other breast, giving it an equal amount of attention.
You were panting by the time he lifted his head with a quiet smack of his lips.
But Sylus was far from finished.
He kissed his way up to your neck, where he licked and sucked at your sensitive skin. You wanted to touch him, thread your fingers through his hair but he still had your wrists pinned firmly above your head with seemingly no intention of releasing them.
You cried out, your back arching as Sylus sunk his teeth into your neck.
“This mark is different,” he breathed, lapping his tongue over it to soothe the sting. “This time, I want to count how many times I can make you come before it fades.”
“Fuck Sy,” you groaned.
He trailed down again until he reached the waistband of your pants. He looked at you, one brow raised, silently asking for your consent. You nodded, straining against his hold on your wrists, desperate to bury your hands in his hair.
You nearly cried with relief when he finally removed his hand, only to have your wrists bound by his Evol instead.
“Sylus,” you whined.
He chuckled. “Be a good girl and let me have my fun first,” he said. “You’re the one who asked me to make you feel good.”
“Then stop teasing me already!”
“Mmm, very well.”
Sylus yanked off your pants, leaving you in just your underwear, which were soaked through by this point. He made quick work taking them off as well, groaning at the sight of you finally naked before him.
“So, so beautiful,” he murmured reverently as he reached out, brushing his thumb over your clit. Your hips bucked at the contact, and it was all the reaction Sylus needed before descending on you like a man starved.
Spreading your legs wide, Sylus licked your slick entrance, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Your back bowed off the bed, crying out in pleasure as he focused his efforts on your throbbing clit. He slung an arm across your waist and pushed you back down, keeping you locked in place, unable to escape the pleasure he was so eager to give you.
His unoccupied hand ghosted along your inner thigh, growing closer and closer to where his mouth was, until he reached your entrance and slipped a finger inside.
You moaned. “Please Sy,” you begged him. “Please let me touch you.”
Without parting from your core, Sylus’s Evol dissipated from your wrists, freeing you at last. Your hands immediately went to his head, burying your fingers in his hair.
Release tingled down your spine, the tension poised to snap. When Sylus added a second finger he nearly undid you then and there.
You grip his hair harder, moving your hips as much as his iron grip would allow, riding his face.
“Sylus,” you panted. “Sylus I’m gonna—ah.”
“Go ahead, sweetie,” Sylus said gruffly. “Come for me.”
And you did, the tension exploding as you came all over his mouth and fingers. He continued to lick and suck, his fingers pumping in and out while you rode out your high, stopping only when your body went limp beneath him.
“That’s one,” Sylus said proudly, straightening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
You stared at the slick covering his fingers, transfixed by the way it shined in the light. Sylus noticed.
“Want a taste for yourself?” he asked.
Heat flooded your cheeks but when your eyes met his, you nodded.
“Open,” he commanded. You obeyed and Sylus slid his fingers inside your mouth. When you closed your lips around them he said, “Now suck.”
You couldn’t feel any embarrassment you were so turned on, tasting yourself as you licked and sucked Sylus’s fingers clean.
“Good girl,” Sylus purred as his withdrew his fingers. “Would you like to uphold your end of our deal now?”
You pounced on him, almost knocking you both off the bed. You tore at Sylus’s shirt, bunching it up over his torso before ripping it off his head. Without stopping to admire his physique, you rose on your knees, positioned on either side of his legs, and unbuckled his belt. The bulge in his pants made your mouth water and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your hands around his cock and wring as much pleasure out from him as he did you.
“Lift your hips,” you told Sylus.
He raised them, his chest heaving with anticipation as he watched you. You hurriedly popped the button and pulled the zipper down, then with all your might, grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear and yanked.
Sylus’s hard cock slapped against his abdomen and you nearly abandoned undressing him at the sight of it. He was long and thick, precum leaking from his slit and onto his stomach. You wanted to touch it, taste it, feel it inside of you.
“Don’t stop now, kitten,” Sylus encouraged, his voice breathless. “You can’t leave my pants like this.”
You blinked, realizing you’d be staring at his cock, hands still gripped tight on his pants, which were only halfway down his thighs. You mumbled an apology and managed to finish stripping him, tossing his clothes aside onto the floor somewhere.
Sylus groaned as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “Kitten,” he panted. You dragged your hand up his length, gathering the precum at the tip before running it back down. “Hah—ah, that feels so good.”
But Sylus grabbed your wrist, stopping you.
You pouted. “I want to make you feel good too.”
He smirked. “You can do that some other time, right now, I need to be inside you.”
Sylus sat up, putting you at eye level.
Your breath caught. He was so beautiful, with his sharp, chiseled features, but what really took your breath away was the look in his eyes. He looked at you like you held his entire world in your hands. Like you were the only light shining in a life otherwise shrouded in darkness. You loved this man, and it was so heart achingly clear he loved you too.
Sylus cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
“I’ve never been so sure about anything before,” you answered him with a smile. “I love you, Sylus.”
He smiled too, a real smile, not anything like his smug ones. “I love you too, Y/N.”
He kissed you, lips pressing softly on yours. It was slow and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to just enjoy each other. Even when your tongues met, you didn’t rush, Sylus gently pushing you down onto the mattress.
He drew back when his cock teased your entrance. “I’m going to go slow, okay? If it hurts or you need me to stop, just let me know.”
Your hands flew up to his face. “Sylus wait.”
He didn’t move a muscle.
“You said I could see your horns.”
Sylus faltered. “Sweetie, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
You shook your head. “No, I want to see them, Sy, and your wings and tail. I said I wanted all of you and I meant all of you.”
Sylus’s heart thundered in his chest, unsure whether to give in to your demands. He was sure if he protested further, he’d be able to convince you to drop it for now. In truth, though, he was nervous. Yes you had remembered your past together but you’d never seen him in his dragon form in this life. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. He’d never recover if you saw him as the monster he truly was, you were the only one who loved him despite that very fact.
“Sylus.”
Hearing his own name tore him from his thoughts, his gaze fixing on your face.
“I love you now just as much as I did then, dragon and all,” you said firmly. “Please, I want you to be able to be yourself with me.”
Sylus hung his head and sighed, resigning to your demands. “Fine, but no wings, they’re too big for the bed.”
“Okay, I can live with that.”
Sylus huffed and brought his lips back to yours. As you kissed, black-red mist swirled at the top of Sylus’s head and at the base of his spine, revealing his scaled, black horns and tail.
He held his breath as he parted from you, bracing himself for your reaction. But when you opened your eyes, they were not filled with fear. They were filled with awe.
You lifted a hand and brushed the bottom of one of Sylus’s horns. He shivered at your touch, his tail swishing back and forth behind him.
“Are they sensitive?” you asked, ghosting your fingers up the length.
“Yes,” Sylus breathed.
You hummed thoughtfully as you angled your head, peering at his tail, then looking back at him. “You really are beautiful, Sy.”
He swallowed against the lump in his throat, moved far more than he could ever express with words that you found him beautiful, even like this.
“May I continue now?” he asked, deflecting with his usual arrogance.
You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Please.”
Sylus almost lost his self control at the relief that flooded through him. His cock was throbbing so hard it was painful, and the only way he could soothe it was to be buried deep inside your cunt.
Tail thrashing wildly, Sylus repositioned the head of his cock at your entrance, somehow even more soaked now than before. Coating himself first, he then began pushing past your folds.
You inhaled sharply at the burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size.
“Relax, my love,” Sylus soothed, one hand trailing down toward your core. He gently circled your clit, encouraging your body to relax.
You whimpered, clenching around the head of his cock, desperate for him to fill you more despite the pain.
Taking his time, Sylus rocked his hips slowly, easing into you inch by inch all while rubbing your clit to keep you loose. By the time he bottomed out, the pain you’d felt had been long replaced by the pure pleasure of being filled with his cock.
Sylus trembled with the restraint it took to not start pounding into you, wanting your first time to be more loving and tender. There was plenty of time to take you hard and rough.
“I’m going to move now, okay?” he warned, breathing heavily.
“Yes, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He groaned and rocked his hips until just his tip was left inside you, before sliding back in. You both moaned as Sylus began thrusting in earnest, his pace slow and steady.
“You feel so good, Y/N,” Sylus panted. “Just like I remember.”
You were unable to respond, too consumed by the way he moved inside you, his cock hitting you in all the right places.
As though it had a mind of its own, Sylus’s tail snaked around one of your legs, keeping it locked to his waist.
Tension building already, your nails dug into Sylus’s back as each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge. Sylus could fell your walls fluttering around his cock, and while he wanted nothing more than to lose himself right along with you, he was determined to rip as many orgasms out of you as he could.
He picked up the pace slightly and you responded in kind, tightening your grip on him as you cried out.
“Sylus, oh fuck, don’t stop, please please please don’t stop.”
He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He captured your lips in an impassioned kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you moaned. One hand cupped a breast, his fingers teasing your nipple before moving on the other.
His touch, his kiss, his cock, it was all too much.
Your back arched as you came, waves of pleasure washing over your body again and again with seemingly no end. Sylus kept moving through it, pausing when you finally slumped into the bed.
“That’s two, but we’re not finished yet, kitten,” Sylus growled.
You hardly registered his words before he was flipping you onto your stomach, a shocked oof breezing past your parted lips. He dragged your hips up so your ass was in the air, sliding his cock back into your cunt with ease. His tail slid along your ribs, then across your breasts, the hard scales rubbing on your sensitive nipples, and it pulled you flush to Sylus’s chest. On instinct, you reached back and grabbed onto both of his horns. The groan he let out was purely animalistic.
“You better hold on tight,” he whispered in your ear, the only warning you got before his cock started slamming into you.
You moaned at the delicious new angle, your body already working toward another orgasm. Admittedly, you’d been a bit nervous that Sylus was relying solely on memory from another lifetime in order to please you, and truly you would’ve been happy with whatever he’d be able to give you. But this? This was not at all what you expected.
“I won’t last much longer, kitten,” Sylus warned, his thrusts growing sloppy, “and I fully intend on bringing you with me.”
His hand slid down your abdomen, two fingers finding your clit and rubbing in quick, tight circles.
Your cunt clenched hard around his cock as you pulled on his horns, your mouth popping open in a silent cry. Sylus groaned, doubling his efforts both with his cock and his fingers.
“Sylus!” you yelled, body tensing. “Sylus, oh please.”
“Give me one more, Y/N,” he muttered. “Be a good girl and give me one more.”
Your climax slammed into you, your vision going white as the pleasure rocked your body harder than the last two. It drove Sylus straight off the cliff edge, chasing his high right alongside you, filling your cunt to the brim.
When you were both spent, Sylus collapsed on top of you, but you were too fucked out of your mind to care about his weight crushing you.
He didn’t linger on you too long though, rolling over onto his side, taking you with him as his tail was still wound around your breasts. He peppered kisses on your neck and shoulder, making you smile.
You twisted in his hold to face him, placing a chaste kiss of your own right on his lips. “I love you, Sy,” you murmured.
“I love you too, sweetie,” he replied quietly.
“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” you asked, the picture of innocence.
Sylus scoffed. “I was under the impression I was much more than just your boyfriend.”
“You are, but I can’t introduce you to people as my soul-bound lover,” you protested. “We need a socially acceptable label, Sy.”
“You want to introduce me to all your little Hunter friends?”
“Yeah, as my small-business-owner-slash-fruit-stall-vendor boyfriend, Skye!”
He gave you an incredulous look, as if he couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now. But, he’d never deny you anything. “Fine, I’ll be your boyfriend as long as you get to be my girlfriend.”
“You have to ask me first.”
He blinked. “What?”
“You have to ask me to be your girlfriend first.”
Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Y/N, my love, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”
You grinned and smacked your lips against his. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Little did you know that Sylus had much bigger plans in mind than you being just his girlfriend. Fiancé was good, but wife was even better. You know, for the sake of socially acceptable labels, of course.
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