#i work for a few days without any notice and i come back with this

[hypvalsqr]

Part 3: Lesson Learned, Freedom Earned

Feat. a touch of forcefem

As soon as her presence was gone I returned to something resembling a normal headspace. I could still feel a ghost of her fingers tickling the back of my brain but I tried to ignore it for the time being. For the time being it was just me and this gray box I was trapped in.

I was naked apart from the dense iron collar around my neck. A few firm tugs at varying angles confirmed it was not coming off, and whenever I tried to cast a spell on it it just fizzled out. My attention turned to the door. It was the same metal as the collar and engraved with runes. I snapped my fingers to attempt a simple searing spell. It puffed out sadly on the surface of the door, no luck there either.

At least it wasn't too cold. Which was baffling.

The top right of the room had one small barred window that revealed an open air view at ground level, dusted with snow. The fact that neither the cold nor any of the snow nor cold had seeped in didn't add up. I stood and grasped two of the bars in my hands. They felt real enough; the cold stung my palms. Sunbeams streaming in were vaguely warm on my skin but only vaguely. I recalled something my charms professor had told us early on. "In the absence of any reasonable explanation, the brain will fill in the gaps without your noticing." Fuck. He was dead now...his essays were always a massive pain in the ass though...

Fuck, stop that. No need to disparage the dead. Bad habit. You need to remember how he taught you to see past your mind's tricks. Eliminate stimulus. That was it. Close your eyes.

Deep breaths filled my lungs as I extended my arcane presence. It never felt like my breath whenever I touched the aether. I slowly spun in a circle and a few purple dots faded in and out of view behind my eyelids. Strips of green and gold light wove in dances in the eigengrau. I waved a hand before the spot where the window was and there I saw it, plain as day. A silver ripple beneath the dark. Magical fingerprints. This window was not real.

As I delved deeper into the fabric of the spell I came to realize that this was no Illusory magic at all, but naturally a complex web of enchantments. My professor had never taught us to craft anything like this but seeing it first hand it felt so elegant. With Illusion magic you had to take the time and effort to manually craft each beam of light, each grain of metal, each pore of stone. But this...Enchantment...allowed you to work with base concepts and mental delusion. If you believe that there is a window hard enough then your head will simply produce it wholesale. More than that, when you see through the illusion magic you can usually line your eyes and mind up just right to see through it but here there was a direct line and loop from spell to observer. It could only be broken by dispelling or something more powerful. Something I didn't have the capabilities for. I was hopelessly trapped in a house of mirrors and lies. Unless...perhaps I could spin this around.

I shook my arms out and squeezed my eyes tighter. With 7 centering breaths I reached out with my magic and my hands unconsciously followed. When my fingers breached the area with the silver ripples it felt warm and wet and tight. My arcanum grasped one strand and bent it. There was little resistance. The weaving would take no time at all.

It was an interesting sensation working with charms this deeply embedded into my psyche. Each twist in the air returned an opposing twinge inside my skull. The work was intuitive and instinctual. I let my knowledge of the fundamentals guide me and within the hour my handiwork was complete.

My eyes opened to reveal the window gone, replaced with a humble hearth burning away. I knew the warmth wasn't real but it was telling all of the parts of my brain that mattered experientially that I was warm and safe.

The thought of working on a carpet next crossed my mind when I heard the door open.

"Hi! Hi! Hi! Miss I missed you sosososo much! Do you like my work? I'm reallyreally proud of it!" I was kneeling when she entered so I turned to face the door and sat up straight to show my respect for my Witch.

She chuckled, "It's quaint," A flick of her wrist wiped away the thought of a fireplace from my mind and the small barred snowy window returned, this time it was a bit more chilly, "Try something more creative later. And here, eat up." She clapped her hands once on her left side and again on her right and a platter of food appeared one inch above the ground before me, landing with a dull clatter.

A roll of bread, a small slice of steak, water, and wine. No silverware.

"Thank you so much for the meal Miss! Thank you than-fuck you fuck you fucking-" The door slammed in my face and her cruel magic went away again. I remembered what she'd done to me the other day though and quickly stopped my angry sputtering.

I bit into the steak, at least it was well seasoned. As I swallowed I sensed for the particles of Vitae the meat would give off and the levels were expected. The steak was also real which gave me some comfort that at least something I could see was real. The meal felt like just enough food to not go into starvation.

The false window showed me it was night outside but I had no way to know how accurate that was. I figured it was as good a time as any for rest and, too drained of mana and full of fatigue, I laid down on the cool stone and passed out. When I awoke pale orange light streamed into the room and nothing had changed except my empty platter was gone somehow.

I guess this was life now. There was some work to be done. I took my 7 centering breaths and dug my fingers into the silver matrix of the floor's auric potentia. It didn't appear to have any magic on it like the window so this would be a bit more complex. I'd have to lay the foundational charms linking the floor to my perception on my own.

It was tough, there were a few logic leaps I had to make, a few wrong turns that I had to twist back to, but eventually I was able to make myself a soft and thick rug for myself. It was a ruddy red with incidental lines of brown striped through it. It was fucking soft. It made me sleepy. Unnaturally so...perhaps I had subconsciously woven in a desire for rest? Who knows, I took the nap anyways and awoke to the door opening.

"Oh, cute. Not exactly a pretty enough pattern that I'd buy it if I saw it in the store but good work nonetheless. You must have spent a lot of time and mana on this."

"Wha-oh hi Miss. Sorry I didn't hear you I was uhh...I dunno..." I rubbed my eyes.

My Witch tilted her head to the side and held a palm out, "Oh no, dear. You've made yourself all sleepy. Here." She dug her fingers into the carpet and twisted and in one swift motion the entire rug rewove itself into a gorgeous pattern with a golden border around the perimeter and flowers of a dozen colors strewn about the surface. I also felt a measure of alertness return to my body. I guess I had accidentally put a sleep spell on myself. Lesson learned.

"Wowww! That was so cool! Can you teach me that please? Please please!"

She held my face in her hands to tell me, firmly, "No. You must teach yourself." And she left again.

It continued like this for several nights. She would leave, I would come to my senses, eat my meal, and then try to make my conditions a little bit more comfortable. Most days when she returned she would wipe away all of my progress forcing me to start from scratch, but occasionally she would leave me a small piece or some of her own magics as a "treat". I started getting really fast at it. I figured out that if I put some simple levitation spells into my mental chairs or benches then they could feel just as solid as the real thing. I learned how to change the texture of a surface in one motion. I determined that clothing was equally easy to emulate with Enchantment so long as I drew an image of it first. I taught myself so many things, and unraveled so many mysteries from observing her magic, but not a single one of these discoveries was enough for me to find a way out of this damned cell.

In fact, my escape was largely an accident. I was experimenting with producing the perception of shelves on the front walls when, deep into the fundamental weave of the object, I pulled on a stray thread and the entire trick crumbled before me. The truth was that there had been no walls this entire time. I was simply huddled into a corner of a basement. Where the door had been were merely two iron bars of its width, one on the floor and one on the ceiling. The only thing keeping me physically trapped this whole time had been my mind.

I stepped out into the open room. To my left and right were two nooks similar to mine. One was empty and one had a naked girl with a matching collar to mine huddle on the floor mumbling to herself. Too far gone for me to help, and I had to move anyways.

The basement was filled with alchemical and mechanical apparatus. Some vials of multicolored liquids bubbled above a massive boiling flask with green liquid at the bottom. A boy was blindfolded, gagged, and his...lower areas were strapped into some sort of standing contraption that kept his limbs bound. Every flat surface was littered with grimoires and codices.

I moved my way to the stairs and found the door shut with a massive padlock. I delved into its essence and found the same thread pulling trick made it quickly disappear from thought. The door was still locked with a simple bolt but a small blast of Evocative force was enough to knock it off its hinges.

She was waiting on the other side for me. Only this time when I locked eyes with her her magic didn't take hold. I felt scared.

"Just under two weeks, impressive! Not quite the fastest learner I've seen but good work nonetheless." She twirled a finger and my muscles all locked up. Her fingers clasped into a tight grip around my collar and I began to levitate a few inches off the ground as she dragged me into a parlor dotted with clothes, mannequins, and a few gaudy couches.

She set me levitating in place above the coffee table. I tried to speak but all I could manage was muffled moans.

"You have something to say?" She flicked a pinky from across the room without looking at me, "Out with it."

My lips were free, "What is wrong with you? What do you want from me? Why are you-why did you-"

She turned my speech off again and turned back to face me holding a pink strip of cloth, "Boring questions that deserve an answer. I am what some may call a poacher. I go to establishments who would teach my craft for war, I decimate them, and I take their talent for my ends. You're the talent by the way." She was literally sizing me up with a tape measure as she explained.

Her focus on it gave me just enough arcane wiggle room to free my vocal chords myself but my words came out in a rasp, "How is what you've done anything different from war?"

She didn't look me in the eye, "I call it justice. I'll teach you in time. But for now your escape proves you are fit to be a student on mine. That of course means, that you will be abandoning the title of 'Wizard'. I do not teach wizards, or mages, or sorcerers, or battlemages, or any of the other repugnant roles the Institution created. I teach Witches. And a Witch's proper uniform is a dress." The pink cloth was drapes across my body in an asymmetrical pattern and she began to do a precise series of arm movements coupled with chants as she sat on the couch below me.

I let out a muffled groan of protest.

She held her arms straight out at her sides, "I know, I know dear you've grown so used to the role of being a 'boy' but there's no use for such vulgarity within a student of Enchantments. Besides, you'll find manipulating the men, the wizards, up top much easier once I pretty you up."

She brought her palms together in one large clap and the cloth burst out into a heavily layered ballgown. The heart shaped neckline was strapless and low and highlighted how flat my chest was at the time. The skirt now had a wide puffy hoop cage inside and the many shades of pink which grew darker as they approached my heart reminded me of roses.

The only thing pinker than the dress were my cheeks. I became suddenly aware that the collar, and I imagined her utter control of me, remained. I guess I'd have to just go along with this.

"You look just spectacular dear," She released me and I struggled to find my balance on top of a damn table as she'd also conjured me some matching heels evidently, "I think we're ready to head out to our first lesson."

"W-what? Outside? Like this? What the-I don't-but I thought-please just-"

"Hush. I think you'll find this next lesson to be quite entertaining given your history of crime."

"What am I gonna go Command someone to kill themselves like you do you fucking bitch?" Is what I tried to say but the command of silence stayed my tongue.

"You are going to rob a bank with nothing but your words."

NOTICE: THIS POST IS ABOUT GETTING MURDERFUCKED AND MIND CONTROLLED BY A SCARY HOT TOXIC LESBIAN WITCH.

A lot has been said with regards to Enchantment being the true "most frightening/unethical" school of magic. I don't think you all quite grasp the full picture.

By the time the witch entered the house two of us were already dead. It was an insult to magic, really. Me and the other students had set up all of these sigils and wards and psychic defenses and yet hadn't considered that someone could slaughter us from outside, without ever laying a finger on us. It was me after all that had...but she'd made them attack me! And they looked like..

No matter. I don't have the luxury of time or guilt. She'd made me kill them. She did it. And she just stepped inside the house. I could feel her presence when she crossed the threshold. Like something slithering through reeds in the night. Something passing beneath your boat. I heard another distant scream. A girl? One of the underclassmen maybe. I had to move fast.

I wiped the blood off my blade and refreshed its evocation-edge. I headed to the front door of the classroom and waited to hear another sound. A flurry of magic missiles thumped into a wall upstairs. It was clear, and I rushed out into the main hallway, beneath the grand stair. In the corner was my favorite spot, an unassuming armchair with a potted plant next to it. If I stood in the just right way and wove some simple layers of illusion magic I could become completely invisible to all but the most trained illusionists.

I grasped my dagger.

I waited.

I heard two girls scream to the right of me.

On the opposite side of the house now, still upstairs, I heard a chorus of men scream war cries and the house lit up with lightning and flame and ether for a brief moment before falling silent. Save one voice. It was the Archmage. I'd never heard him speak like that before.

"No! No. Please! Fuck. NO! I can't move. What did you do to me? What did you do to them? Answer me! Your magics are foul. You-"

Then another voice, a woman, spoke with presence, "Hush. They're sleeping. You wouldn't want to wake them."

"Stop. No. No, please stop not that. Not-" Then he broke off into a series of unhinged wails. There was a thumping through the house. Then another, and another. Steadily I began to recognize the sound of an executioners axe crunching through vertebrae.

The Archmages last words, confoundingly, were "Thank you." Then silence.

I reached out with a simple life-detection spell. That was my mistake. It confirmed that the only two people left alive inside or out the house were me and the witch. I also detected her quickly whipping around and walking towards my location. Shit. Fuck. SHITSHITSHIT. I cut the life detection and shifted to the opposite corner of the room, taking my 'cloak' of invisibility charms with me. Just in case.

That's when I heard her in my head.

"I see you, little one."

She's bluffing.

"You're funny. Out of all the people in this school you're the only one who thought not to attack me head on. Or to mount some pitiful attempt barricading me out. Why is that?"

I gripped my dagger tighter to my body.

"I think, or at least I hope, it's because you will be more fun than all of these wastes." She stepped out into the open at the top of the stairs. As expected from a Witch of Enchantments, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. She wore an inky green ballgown, stained red at the feet. Her collarbones and face were exposed and seemed to shimmer in the light. Every breath of hers let out a jet of glimmering pink particles.

"I won't know if you are until I get a peak inside that head of yours."

I heard a girls scream to the right.

What?

That couldn't be...she screamed again. And again. Coming from all angles. My heartrate picked up. This scream was familiar, I'd heard it a few minutes ago. But the more it echoed throughout the house and pounded into my brain I realized with a growing certainty that this scream was mine. It was my voice. This was the sound I would make when I die. How did she know that? How could she?

She took a step down the stairs but instead of descending she floated out gently into the space above me.

"Well, wherever you are in this room - plotting your little ambush - I'm curious. Give me your best shot. Let's see what you're capable of."

She had her back turned to me, about 5 feet off the ground. It was an easy kill. I should have seen it was too easy, or that she was clearly goading me into striking. But something inside me wanted to. It felt like I needed to. So I took my dagger and with a great leap I thrust upwards directly into her spine.

I felt it sink through her muscles, into her guts. I blinked and was face to face with the Archmage. My knife in his stomach. The light fading from his eyes.

The oldest trick in the book. I fell for it thrice, and now I was surely dead. I tried to cry but instead of tears I felt fingers, soft and delicate on my cheeks.

She whispered in my ear from behind, "Good job, darling. That was so wonderful. Now it's time for you to give up, alright?"

"Okay!"

I broke my useless dagger in half and dispelled all my defensive magics. The school had decided to-

"-hire a new teacher who was going to show you real magic. And-"

turn me into a real witch! I didn't need anyone else but her. I was on my knees now, looking up at her gorgeous face. Her brown curls framed her amber eyes and ochre brown skin. She was perfect. She would take care of me. She was saying something to me still that I couldn't quite understand but she was smiling and petting my head and face all over while she said it so it must be good. Then she turned to walk out the door. I stayed kneeling because she hadn't ordered me to follow her yet, I had to follow my Witch's orders. She walked out the front door and turned left out of sight.

"AAAHHHHH! AuughG ASNnOOO NO PELase OGH AH!!" I scrambled backwards on my hands up the stairs. The terror had returned all at once unexpectedly. I think I'd managed to hit her once but I wasn't sure. I had to get moving or she would find me again. My dagger was missing, shit she must have disarmed me but when? And my head was spinning. Did she do something to me? I have to assume no. Just keep moving. As fast as you can up the stairs. God, I was so cold. Had I been hit? Was I bleeding? I took stock of my body as I went up the stairs and noticed I was suddenly freezing cold. My robes were...gone...and the stairs were snow and...

"What? Get over here."

Dreams in waking. Nightmares in sleep. Walking backwards. Falling deep.

"Oh, sweetheart did you get caught up behind me?" My Witch clicked my collar into place around my neck as we stood in the snow outside the house, "Silly me. I should have told you to stick close to me. The enchantments will turn off whenever I'm out of sight," she leaned in close as she conjured a chain and attached it to my collar, "Did you get scared?"

"Mmm! Yeah! You walked outta the house and I got really scared and missed you and it was really weird I didnt. Uhh, I don't uhm-"

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm going to take you back to my cabin and lock you up somewhere nice and safe until I can turn you into a good student. But only if you behave. Can you do that for me?"

I nodded while staring into her eyes, feeling a warm blanket of security and joy cover my naked body as it was dusted in snowflakes.

"Thank you!"

WILL CONTINUE IN PART 2

[taradactyls]

Elizabeth Overestimates her Ability to Tie a Cravat

Prompt for @janeuary-month 2005 Day 8: Cravat

Over the period of their engagement, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy take many long walks. During an unseasonably warm late October day, Mr Darcy loosens his cravat and removes his jacket. Elizabeth finds this a very educational experience. But when it comes time to put them back on, she cannot for the life of her figure out how to knot the cravat properly after insisting she do the honours.

“My dearest, and loveliest, Elizabeth,” he gently began. “You have no idea how to knot a cravat, do you?”

3,421 Words, Rated G, Elizabeth Bennet / Fitzwilliam Darcy

Tags: Fluff, First Kiss, Love, Sickeningly in Love, Canon Compliant, I cannot express how absolutely besotted with each other these two are, The tension is palpable but it goes no further than g-rated touches banter and a few chaste kissies, Sweet, One shot

Read a snippet below the cut, and the entire work on Ao3

Elizabeth Overestimates her Ability to Tie a Cravat

For all her family’s joy at her engagement to Mr Darcy, escaping them at every opportunity was one of Elizabeth’s highest priorities. Thankfully, there were plenty of lanes about in which she may lose her way accompanied by her dear Mr Darcy. They had managed to flee Longbourn today by proposing another long walk, and though initially possessing the companionship of Jane and Mr Bingley the couples had collectively decided, without a word being spoken, to travel different paths.

The harvest was in, the landscape awash in colour, and the sun unseasonably hot. Elizabeth was delighted, and yet she looked at her intended with concern. After studying him a few moments, she asked “What is that furrowed brow for, Mr Darcy?”

“I feel I ought to be sitting with your father in the library,” said he, “but it has been two days since I have been alone with you for any length of time and so I must be selfish.”

“The correct choice, in my completely unbiased opinion,” Elizabeth smiled, nudging his arm lightly with her own to punctuate her point. He responded by capturing her hand, and raising it to give the back of it a kiss.

He did not release it once it was lowered.

Mr Darcy was too deep in thought to notice her blush. “I do not want to appear lax in my duty towards him, nor fail to prove that I deserve the honour of your hand.”

“Oh, you must not trouble your mind about that! The latter is already accomplished, and for the former – well, as sweet as your sentiment is, I assure you my father shall be very pleased to have a day free from respectful sons-in-law. After spending all yesterday with you and Mr Bingley hunting, followed by dinner with the Lucases, there is nothing he wants more than silence and solitude in his library.”

“So long as you are certain he shall not find my avoidance of his company for a whole day selfish.”

“He shall view it as a kindness to himself – and everyone else for that matter.”

“I fail to see how anyone else factors into it?”

Leaning into him with a smile, Elizabeth archly replied “It saves them all from having to endure my forlorn sighs as I stare longingly at you from across the room.”

Mr Darcy gave a short laugh as he looked at her in surprise, the rare sound and the amusement in his face ample reward for Elizabeth’s efforts. Her smile turned softer as she admired him and his own gaze did not stray from her.

For a fleeting moment she wondered if he might finally kiss her, for he had remained entirely proper so far over the fortnight of their engagement.

“Well then,” he said instead, “I shall take that as his tacit approval to wander about the countryside with you for at least another two hours. Even if it does grow hotter every moment.”

“Poor Mr Darcy! Pity there are no lakes here-abouts for you to jump into to cool down.”

Elizabeth was jesting, but within another half an hour it became clear that perhaps such an action would not be fully unwise. She had foregone a sleeved dress that morning but the gentleman was not so fortunate in his coat. “I know I claimed your presence outdoors for the next few hours, but I am afraid, dearest Elizabeth, that I near my limit for exercise in the present circumstances,” he said, tugging at his cravat to allow some air to slip within.

“You are looking a bit flushed – shall we turn back?”

“Not until after I have recovered somewhat. The lack of trees on our return path for the next mile shall only worsen my state.”

Elizabeth frowned at Mr Darcy in consternation. “You are not feeling dizzy, nor any worse symptoms, I hope?”

“No, just uncomfortably hot,” he reassured her. “A break to sit down in the shade shall quite restore me.” Yet despite professing himself mostly fine, he did not at all fight Elizabeth’s insistence on putting her arm around his waist, and draped his own about her shoulders. It was perhaps unnecessary, as he did not lean any of his weight on her, but the feeling of Elizabeth against him made him almost forget the heat for a moment.

Though there may not have been a lake to jump into (the small pond in a cow paddock featuring said animals wading through it to cool down was far too dirty to even contemplate) there was a copse atop a low hill not far from the road. Elizabeth led Mr Darcy to it, pleased to see it was free from grazing animals and other people, and open enough that sitting there with her betrothed could cause no scandal even if they were a little hidden from the road once they found the most sheltered spot. He took a few steps from her, and in some desperation, untied his cravat and ripped it from his neck, seeking the relief of cooler air.

Continue reading here

[aptbelle]

FOREST BOY

pairing: earthfairy!jun x female!reader

summary: y/n was a lonely little girl. she had no friends, just her imagination and the forest behind her home to get her through the day. the forest is where she’d run to to escape reality and day dream. one day, after running from her bullies, she meets a strange, yet charming boy, wen junhui. junhui shows her what lies deeper in the forest, and she is amazed. every single day, she goes to the forest just to see junhui, and they spend hours together. one thing y/n had noticed about junhui was that she never saw him outside of the forest, nor did he have any interest in leaving. they spend every day together until y/n has to go away for college. the news breaks junhui’s heart, and he goes away, which hurt y/n in return. four years later, y/n lands a job in her hometown, allowing her to come back home. she is excited to see junhui again, but he is nowhere to be seen, no matter how far in the forest she travels. however, she meets another boy, who is very similar to junhui, or so y/n thinks.

warnings: this story only includes jun and minghao! they are characters in this and not related to the ones irl. lower case intended! this story may have possible angst!

author's note: this is a story i had started on wattpad a couple years ago, but i never published it. so i decided to continue it on here! i hope you enjoy! i am a student, so i will update as much as i can while juggling school.

previous chapter: prologue

next chapter:

CHAPTER 1: HOME SWEET HOME

4 years later…

y/n never realized how blurry the train made the outside world look. the first time she took one on her way to college, she was occupied by a book the whole time. having finished all her books, she was left with nothing to read. she had her headphones on and was taking in the scenery of her hometown.

it’s been years since she came home, with school and summer internships she was very busy. all the hard work had finally paid off, she was finally graduated and began her career for her local newspaper, writing blogs about whatever the managers tell her. her first task was writing a nature article. this allowed her to be able to stay at home, for once.

she felt so guilty for not visiting more, but her parents had busy schedules as well, so hopefully they understood.

it was the end of spring, so everything was in full bloom. y/n had missed all the trees and flowers. her college town was nothing but city; the closest garden was too far for y/n to even consider walking. she reminisced about her childhood and teenage days she spent in the forest, with nothing but her thoughts and wen junhui to keep her company.

wen junhui.

y/n felt her heart skip. junhui. the boy she spent almost every hour with. she hadn’t thought about him in awhile. he was the reason she loved everything about nature. he taught y/n all she knows about the forest. she had created so many memories with him between those trees.

she could not wait to see him again.

y/n remembered how she left him, without a good explanation. she hoped he had come around, and would be happy upon her return.

though it was going by fast, y/n began to recognize the scenery around her. she was almost at her local train station. the stop would be any minute. she paused her music and put her phone away into her purse. she took her headphones off of her ears and put them around her neck.

her luggage was in the overhead compartment. she didn’t have much, just her clothes. she knew her mother would have kept her room just the same. the extra stuff she had around her dorm, she sold for extra money.

just a few minutes later, the train slowed down. the blurred image outside the window became a clear show of the station. y/n stood up and grabbed her luggage’s. she looked around outside, and saw her mother standing there with a sign.

‘welcome home, y/n!’ the sign read. her mother was shaking it around with a smile. her mother was usually the strict type, but where y/n had not been home in a very long time, her mother showed a happier side.

y/n hurried into the middle aisle so that she would not be the last to leave the train. she finally reached the doors to the outside and stepped off the train onto the platform.

she turned her head and instantly saw her mother running towards her.

“my sweet, y/n!” she exclaimed. she wrapped her arms around y/n. y/n missed these hugs so much. it felt so warm and inviting, reminding her of old times.

“hello, mom,” y/n hugged back, putting her head into her mother’s neck.

“i am so glad you are back home,” her mother said, letting go of the hug and putting her hands on y/n’s shoulders. y/n noticed the tears in her eyes. “you look so mature,” her mother continued.

y/n doesn’t think she had changed her appearance that much. she did cut her hair and change her style a bit. then again, her mother hadn’t seen her other than video calls for a couple years.

“thank you, mama,” y/n replied. her mother hadn’t changed at all, aside from the slight gray peeking from her roots. y/n had always been told she was a spitting image of her mother, which was a compliment she always loved to hear.

“was the trip okay?” her mother asked, “i know train rides can get boring after a while.”

“yes, it was alright,” y/n said, “it was nice seeing everything after so long.”

her mother smiled and patted y/n’s arms. “that’s so good to hear.”

y/n’s mother grabbed her stuff. “the car is just this way. don’t worry about driving, i will let you rest.”

“thanks, mama,” y/n replied.

y/n followed her mother to the car. there was a crowd of people at the station. the mother and daughter pushed through the crowd until they reached outside. her mother led y/n just a few more steps until they found the car.

y/n’s mother popped the truck and carefully set her luggage in. y/n walked to the passenger side and opened the door. she was suddenly hit with a nostalgic smell. the car had always kept the clean, new-car scent that y/n had loved. she truly felt at home. she got in the car, shut the door, and strapped the seat belt.

seconds later, y/n’s mother got in, letting out a big sigh. “oh, y/n, i am just so happy you’re finally home,” she said, patting her daughters thigh.

“yes, it’s been far too long,” y/n agreed. her mother started the car and began to drive out of the parking lot. “i’m surprised you aren’t on one of your business trips right now,” y/n continued.

her mother slightly smiled. “i’m scheduled to leave for one tomorrow, and stay gone for a couple days.”

y/n looked down. she knew her mother was very busy, but she had just gotten home. this didn’t upset her, though, she was used to this. this did give her more time to herself. more time to spend in the woods.

more time to find junhui.

“what are you smiling so wide for?” y/n’s mother asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“nothing,” y/n said, “just excited to see an old friend, junhui.”

y/n’s mother furrowed her eyebrows. “y/n,” she said sternly, “i thought you would grow out of that. this ‘junhui’ boy doesn’t exist. you’re too old for this kind of imagination.”

oh, right.

y/n’s mother never believed her when she brought up junhui. y/n didn’t blame her. junhui would never want to come over for dinner, and would only come to her house late at night, never through the front door but through the window. he would always use the same excuse, that his parents didn’t want him going to strangers’ houses.

y/n never met his parents neither, or seen his house. the more she thought, she only ever saw him in the forest. he didn’t go to school, or to town. just the forest. she had always assumed he had been homeschooled. that’s the only reasonable explanation.

“he exists, mother,” y/n said, chuckling, “he was just super shy.”

“super shy and super odd,” her mother replied, “only staying in that forest. no wonder you didn’t get kidnapped.”

already with the scolding. y/n loved her mother, but she knows that junhui was real, no matter if her mother saw her or not.

“plus,” her mother continued, “i never saw him when i went to the forest for a walk. just dead trees. maybe he left when you did, along with the rest of your mind.”

y/n kept her mouth shut, not wanting to further draw out her so called ‘delusions.’ she’d introduce them one day, if junhui was still around, which she hoped.

“are you still planning on keeping in touch with your college friends? i know you said you had made a few,” her mother chimed in.

y/n did make a few friends, but none were too close. she had a roommate in college, but they were far from friends, polar opposites. she told her mother, however, that they were close as can be.

“they’re all busy with their careers,” y/n told her mom, “not much time to talk.”

“ah, i see,” her mother nodded.

before too long, the two reached their neighborhood. everything felt like nothing had changed. their house was in the far part of the neighborhood, so it took maybe another couple minutes to reach it.

it was a comforting two story, accompanied by the wonderous forest in the back. just the sight of the trees made y/n feel safe. so many memories, and more to be made.

“home sweet home!” y/n’s mother exclaimed, pulling up to the house. she put the car in park and unbuckled. “don’t wait too long, you’re room isn’t in perfect shape for nothing!” y/n’s mother hopped out of the car and shut the door. she went around the back and grabbed her daughters stuff before heading into the house.

y/n stepped out of the car as well, looking around at her surroundings. no major changes, but she did notice a car at one of the houses down the street. when y/n left, that house was for sale. standing outside of it was a man who looked to be about y/n’s age. he had a black mullet and glasses. it seemed he was tending to some plants in front of his house. he turned in y/n’s direction, flashed her a smile, and waved. y/n waved back, and he turned back to what he was doing. he had an attractive smile, one y/n would remember, but she had never seen him before.

she turned her focus back to her childhood home, and began to walk in. she opened the door and was greeted once again with a familiar smell. her mother’s favorite scent was vanilla-lavender. she always made sure the house smelt like it. every time she’d smell this scent outside of her home, it made her think of home. now she was finally there.

“go get settled into your room, honey,” her mother said, “i’ll be asleep before too long. i have to leave early in the morning.”

“okay, thank you, mom,” y/n said. she walked up to her mother and gave her a hug.

“y/n, thank you for coming back,” her mother said.

“of course, there’s no where i’d rather be.” y/n let go of the hug, grabbed her stuff, and walked up to her room.

it was the last room in the hall, closest to the back of the house and closest to the forest. the door was shut, and still had the ‘y/n’s room’ sign on the door surrounded by assorted stickers that she put there when she was a little girl. she opened the doors and was flooded with nostalgia.

the bed was still on the left side of the room doused in the blue bedsheets and matching comforter that feels like marshmallows. the bookshelf on the right side still had all the same books that y/n had read a dozen times. the desk next to it was oddly neat. y/n usually had some kind of mess going on on it. the window was placed perfectly in the middle. the window which jun had popped in on countless occasions. the window which y/n had always escaped with him out of. the window showed a perfect view of the forest. she was eager to go for a walk. she needed material for her first article anyways, and the forest would be a perfect spot to come up with ideas.

she needed to unpack first. she set her luggage up on her bed and unzipped it. she didn’t have too many outfits, but she had a lot of lounge clothes. she put all her outfits in the closet ans the random shirts and shorts in the drawers, along with the undergarments. she left one set of lounge clothes out: black t-shirt and grey sweats. she changed out of her current clothes and put the lounge set on. she put on a pair of sneakers she brought with her.

y/n’s door opened. her mother was standing outside.

“i’m heading to bed now, sweetie,” her mother said, “are you settling in nicely?”

“yes, everything’s just the same,” y/n said, “i was going to head out to the forest a bit, find something to write my first article about.”

her mother nodded. “well, if you see you’re imaginary friend, tell him i said hi,” she joked before leaving the room.

y/n hoped she saw her ‘imaginary’ friend. she missed him after all this time, and hoped he was still around. she had so much to tell him about, and she was sure he did as well.

y/n grabbed her laptop and headed out the room. she went downstairs and to the back door. she opened it and headed into the forest.

there had been a perfectly paved path that she’d always take. she had walked it so many times that the grass had never been able to grow there. looking around she had noticed the trees had new vines on them, new bushes had sprouted, trees had grown taller, but she knew it would always be the same forest she basically grew up in.

she walked farther and farther in until something caught her eye: a rose bush. roses were her favorite, and a perfect topic for her to write about. roses symbolized so many different things, and were the cause of many memories with jun, who never forget they were her favorite

—

“tag, you’re it!” junhui yelled as he tapped 14 year old y/n’s shoulder from behind. before y/n could fully turn around, jun had already sped off. he was a lot faster than she could ever be, which is why he loved to play tag.

“jun!” y/n chuckled as she began to run after him the best she could. he was so far ahead that he looked like a tiny speck. y/n’s one goal was to catch up to him, and that was all she was focused on.

not the fact that her shoelace was untied.

she sped her pace up, not taking her eyes off of jun. all of a sudden, she felt her shoe get caught. she looked down and saw that she had stepped on her shoelace, causing her to fall in front of her.

in front of her, unbeknownst to her, was a large rose bush filled with thorns. when she fell, she felt them all prick into her at once. some of the thorns were in her face, arms, and thighs. she yelled out in pain.

“jun, help!” she called out, but he was probably too far to hear. everytime she tried to move, a new thorn pricked her in a new place. she was basically stuck in her favorite flower bush. to most people, it would have been great to be surrounded by their favorite flower, but in that moment, y/n wished to be anywhere else.

“y/n? where are you?” junhui’s voice rang. he must have turned around after he didn’t hear y/n chasing him anymore.

“jun!” she yelled, “i’m in the bush! help!” she peaked her head up as much as she could, and she saw jun in the distance. he was looking around frantically until he finally caught sight of the bush. he ran over to her as fast as he could.

“oh my gosh, y/n,” he said, “how did this happen? are you alright?”

“i tripped over my shoelace, and fell on a bed of roses,” y/n chuckled, “it hurts to move.”

“here,” jun said, putting his hands on her sides, “i’ll help you up.” he began to lift her out of the bush. thorns latched onto her and were stuck in her skin, but most of them were still on the bush.

“oh, y/n,” jun pouted, “you have maybe 20 thorn pricks. i am so sorry we shouldn’t have played this game out here.”

“jun, it’s okay,” y/n consoled him, “i had fun. i always have fun with you.” each spot burned in pain. she looked down at the arms and upper legs and saw many bloody cuts. she reached her hand up to her face, grazing her cheek. she winced in pain, feeling more cuts. tears rushed into her eyes.

junhui grabbed her hand. “don’t touch your face,” he said, “there are more cuts on it.” his dark brown eyes were full of concern and empathy. he wiped y/n’s tears before they got into and of the cuts. “i can fix them for you. make them heal faster.” jun took y/n by the hand once again and began to walk her deeper into the forest.

every step y/n took, her left ankle felt sore. she groaned in pain following behind jun. he took around and took notice of this, stopping in his tracks. “here,” he said, “put your arms around my neck.”

y/n nodded, doing as he said. she put her arms around him, and felt him reach under her legs and lift her up. he began to carry her bridal-style into the forest. “you feeling okay, m’lady?”

y/n smiled. “besides from all these pricks, yes,” she said to her charming friend carrying her, “this feels quite nice.”

“special treatment for a special girl,” jun said. he always had such a way with words, and he was the most caring friend y/n had, the only one to be correct.

“where are we going?” y/n asked. this is the farthest they have travelled in a while, and she doesn’t know what down here would help with her cuts.

“you’ll see,” jun said, “i’ve been meaning to show you this little spot anyways. now we have a perfect reason to go.”

that just made y/n too curious. what could it possibly be?

“and we are here!” jun exclaimed.

y/n looked ahead of them and her jaw dropped. in front of them was a beautiful pond. it was surrounded by vines and trees. the water was so clear. it almost looked blue. it was like an oasis.

“my little- wait,” jun said, “our little paradise.” he smiled at y/n. he carried her over to one of the rocks by the pond and sat her down on it.

“junhui, this place is beautiful!” she said, taking in the scenery.

“isn’t it?” jun said giving y/n a smile. “sit tight and i’ll clean the cuts for you. this is the cleanest water you can find.”

y/n relaxed on the rock as she watched jun at work. he walked over to a bush full of coral bells. they were called such for their bell-like shape. he took one of the flowers off and dipped it into the pond, collecting water in it. he brought the water-filled flower back to y/n, kneeling down in front of her.

jun took two fingers into the flower and rubbed the water over the cuts, wiping away all the blood. the water made the cuts feel painless, seemingly healing them. it made y/n feel at ease.

“you wanna know something?” jun said to y/n, his eyes looking all over her face, “no matter how much your face gets cut up, you’ll still be the prettiest girl in the world.”

y/n blushed. he always knew how to compliment her. he had the nicest and sweetest things to say no matter what.

“you’re a liar,” y/n chuckled as jun finished cleaning all her face-cuts.

“i never lie, m’lady,” jun said, dipping his fingers into the water again. “can i see your arms now?”

y/n nodded, showing her arms to jun, and he began to clean. he took care of them pretty quick, then moved to her legs. just a few minutes later, she was all taken care of. none of them burned anymore. y/n felt no pain.

“there you go,” jun said, “all better.”

y/n smiled at her friend. “jun, sometimes i swear you’re some kind of forest god or something.

jun shrugged and laughed. “something like that,” he said. his face suddenly changed, like he had remembered something. “i almost forgot!” he said as he walked off.

y/n cocked her head to the side. ‘what did he forget? i’m feeling all fine now,’ y/n wondered to herself.

jun was at another flower bush. this time it was another rose bush. he picked one of the roses off, taking the thorns off the stem one by one. he walked back over to y/n. he pushed her hair back behind her ear, and placed the rose there.

“finishing touch,” jun smiled.

y/n smiled. roses had always been her favorite, and jun remembered it. “kinda ironic, don’t you think?” she joked, which made jun chuckle.

“i couldn’t help it,” jun said, “they’re your favorite, and they suit you so well. everytime i see a rose, i think of you. no rose can live up to your beauty.”

y/n smiled wide. she wrapped her arms around the boy. “thank you, junhui, for everything,” she said.

he hugged her back. “of course, m’lady. anything for you, forever and always.”

—

that day just made y/n love roses even more, even though they tore her skin up. after looking at them for a few more seconds, she decided to start typing.

“Roses, often hailed as the "Queen of Flowers," hold a special place in human culture and history. Their beauty, fragrance, and variety have made them a symbol of love, passi-”

a sudden noise behind her caused her to pause typing. she looked behind her, but didn’t see anything. ‘must’ve been a squirrel or bird,’ she said to herself and went back to typing.

“-passion, and admiration across different civil-”

the noise was closer now, and sounded bigger than any squirrel or bird. it sounded like footsteps. the footsteps were then accompanied by a voice.

“well, hello there.”

[artsfavoritehorn]

Can you please do headcanons where you work at a restaurant as a server/bartender and Art is your S/O and he comes in? OMG PLEAAASE this would make my heart so happy 🥺

It took me a while but these headcanons are finally complete, thank you for your patience! At first it started out as a more traditional headcanons list but as I was writing it, it kind of turned into a fic but I liked the headcanons format so I just stuck with it lol 😅 I hope you enjoy 😊🥰💕

Word count: around 1.5k✍️

No warnings for this one btw, this is all just sweet fluff 😇💜

(Also credit to @hauntedfoodie as well for coming up with the cocktail recipe! 😄🫶)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

-Working as a bartender and server was an extremely tiring job, ESPECIALLY when you had to work around the holidays

-It seems like the restaurant would go into holiday mode earlier and earlier every year, your manager already having made your coworkers put up multicolored string lights and an assortment of glittery holiday decorations all over the walls and in the windows ✨🎄🎁

-You would be lying if you said that the decor didn’t brighten up the place and make it ever so slightly easier to bare, but it was definitely still a draining job as it would usually be so much busier around this time of year

-You were working on one of the rare slightly-more-manageable nights when suddenly, you noticed your boyfriend Art strolling up to your bar casually, wearing his Santa suit so he could better blend in ✨

-Usually, even though you loved to see him, you preferred that he stayed home or just didn't come in to your workplace to visit you, not wanting to draw too much attention to your boyfriend as to not make anyone suspicious of a clown constantly showing up on the premises, but you suppose the Santa suit helped a bit. You watched as he comically shimmied into his seat, the harsh clang of his heavy trash bag still able to be heard amongst all the commotion of the restaurant; it didn't take long for the few people sitting on either side of him to get up and walk away without another glance back 🤡🎅

-Trying not to make it obvious that you had any relation to him, you walked over to the clown like you would any other customer; Art’s eyes lit up instantly, his slender fingers giddily waving at you and blowing you a heavily exaggerated kiss as he noticed your presence 😙

-You leaned over slightly and whispered “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be laying low for now”, concerned that his behavior seemed to be getting bolder and bolder as the days progressed closer to Christmas; you had come to terms with having to accept Art's lifestyle, but you were just worried about him getting in trouble or hurt- he's reassured you many times that everything's under control and that he'd be fine, but you still worried about him occasionally 🥺😓

-Art shrugged his shoulders playfully in response, pointing at himself and then back at you followed by a heart shape with his hands as he smiled at you innocently :3 🫶😃😋

-You sighed and shook your head. “Well, if you're gonna stay here for a bit, you're gonna at least need to have a drink so my managers don't get suspicious and kick you out for loitering on the property"

-Art pouted and folded his arms, the thick fabric of the Santa suit bunching up around his thinner frame, his tongue sticking out in disgust 😒

-You rolled your eyes. "I know you think alcohol is gross, babes, but I think I might know something I could make for you that you might actually like.” Art gave you a look as if to say “I don't believe you in the slightest- but good luck” and moved to rest his arms along the dark wooden bar, his focus shifting to absentmindedly running his fingertips back and force over its smooth surface

-You leaned over and grabbed a clean glass. “Alright, just give me a few minutes, I've got a couple of drink orders I need to fill first and then I'll bring you yours.” Art huffed silently, forever the impatient baby, but ultimately nodded in understanding 💖

-You turned and wandered back to the other side of the bar, grabbing a few extra glasses and placing them under the taps for the other patrons. Once their orders were fulfilled, then you got started on Art’s special cocktail 🥂

-You decided to go for something festive and classic, something very fruity and sweet that you knew would mesh with the clown’s tastebuds in a more pleasing manner than the hard liquor he had been offered in the past

-You decided to craft Art a cocktail made with moscato wine, white cranberry juice, lemon lime soda, and a smattering of whole cranberries on the top; perfect for the holiday season, and perfect for your clown boyfriend who loved his sweets 🥰🍹

-Strolling back over to his seat, you found Art reaching over the bar, trying to grab a handful of the little sharp wooden skewers you would use for fruit in certain drinks- when he noticed you a few steps away, Art quickly pulled his hand back into his lap and tried to feign innocence once more, pretending to whistle and look back and forth ⚔️🙄🤗😁

-You shook your head and smiled at him, placing a napkin down in front of him with his drink on top

-Art’s eyes went wide with curiosity at the sight of the bright cranberries floating atop the bubbly liquid, his eyes soon meeting yours again as he cocked his head slightly in heightened interest 😲😍

-”Trust me, you'll love it. I made sure it was extra sweet for my sweet-loving clown” you told him with a grin as you leaned against the counter, saying the last part in a hushed tone so only he could hear 😌💖🍬🍭

-Art tapped his finger against his temple and pointed back at you with it to signify he understood, his grin blossoming wider across his features bashfully at your words before glancing back down at the drink and wringing his hands together in excitement

-Before you could wait to see if he liked it, another patron across the bar waved you down. “I'll be back soon, I hope you enjoy it!” you told him, heading back to attend to your other customers

-You couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of your eye as you worked from across the bar as Art lifted the glass to his mouth and took a big sip, chugging the entire thing down in one go (he always drank way too quickly, you made a mental note to remind him to savor his drinks in the future lol)🍾😂

-The glass made contact with the bar, clinking pleasantly as it did so, Art’s eyes meeting yours again as he motioned for you to return to him when you could get the chance

-”Sooo, how was it? Have I finally found an alcoholic drink that you can actually enjoy?”, you asked him. Art’s smile grew as he nodded in rapid succession, patting his tummy to indicate that he thought it was delicious 🤤😋

-Your smile mirrored his as you leaned over to grab his empty glass, giving the counter a quick wipe to get rid of any condensation left behind with the cleaning rag in your other hand. “Good, I'm glad you liked it! I had a sneaking suspicion that you'd prefer something much sweeter.”

-Art nodded again and motioned with one finger up for you to wait a minute as he leaned over, grabbing his red spray painted garbage bag and rummaging through it 🎒

-Resting your elbows on the bar, you realized that Art was trying to give you money for the drink; an array of dirtied coins was plopped onto the bar top as he began counting out the loose change piece by piece (most of it consisting of primarily pennies) 🪙💰

-”Baby, don't worry about that, it's on the house. It was a practice drink for me anyway, and I don't mind buying a drink for good ole Saint Nick- especially for a super cute one at that.” You winked at him with a smirk as you placed more glasses under the taps, beginning to fill them up with various golden hued lagers for the other patrons' seemingly never ending slurry of orders 🍺🍻

-Art’s mouth opened in surprised shock before grinning again, waving the compliment off cheekily and kicking his feet a bit. With one swipe, he pushed all of the loose change back into the bag, the tiny circles of metal clanging around as they fell in amongst the array of other interesting items that he carried around with him 🤭

-The clown motioned to his wrist as if he was wearing a watch, silently asking you how much longer you had to be here for until your shift was over. “I’ve got about 2 more hours, love. And then I'll meet you back at home and we can cuddle and watch some movies, sound good?” ⏱️⌚️⏳

-Art smirked and nodded, satisfied as he stood up from the bar stool and stretched dramatically 🙆

-He grabbed his trash bag and ceremoniously slung it over his shoulder, blowing a kiss to you slyly before turning to leave the restaurant 😘💋

-You pretended to wipe down the bar as you watched him walk away, the bright red backside of his jolly disguise slowly becoming smaller in view before disappearing completely into the holiday hustle and bustle 🎁🎄🎅✨

Extra post bar scenario:

-When you arrived back home later that evening, you were surprised to find about 30 bottles of moscato and a huge pile of bagged cranberries that had definitely seen better days all lined up on your kitchen counter; you found Art sitting cross-legged on the couch in the living room, still wearing his Santa outfit and pretending to intently read a book, miming laughter at certain parts as his finger skimmed across the page he had randomly opened on 📚

-You confronted the clown about the bottles of wine, to which he simply put his hands up and shrugged his shoulders, the start of a signature smirk playfully skirting on the corners of his black painted mouth 😏😁😋💖

[wxwrites]

arcane milf sfw/nsfw headcanons! (f!reader)

ft: ambessa, sevika, cassandra, grayson.

SEVIKA | SFW

sevika, who definitely has a hard time learning how to be vulnerable with you. once you eventually peel away the thick layers of her gruff and cold exterior, you'll find a woman who only wants what's best for her girl.

who comes home bruised, battered, and on her last thread as she confides in the comforting and soft skin of the lovely lady waiting for her at home. she'll sigh deeply into the crook of your neck and wrap her flesh arm around you as you help pry off the now broken robotic arm.

who keeps you sat prettily on her lap as she plays against the crass and nasty men of the undercity. she'll keep her flesh hand on your waist as she claws at the cards with the other. the men watch warily as you pull the cigarillo from her lips and pull your own drag off of it, giving them a mocking smirk after.

she would move heaven and hell for you. who would do everything in her power to provide you with the life that you deserve. while she may be cold and hard on the outside, her devotion and loyalty to you and everything you are is unwavering.

NSFW

she can be nasty when she wants to be, she'll lick and suck at all of the sensitive and weak points on your neck. she'll pin your wrists above your head with her mechanical arm as she trails her cold fingers down your chest, leaving faint red marks in their wake.

much more of a giver than a taker. she likes to watch you writhe, squirm, and plead as she stares down at you. she loves the ego boost she gets as you grovel at her, begging for her to touch you.

but other times, if she notices that you're a little more down and out of it– she'll go slower. she'll undress you gently and press chaste kisses into your skin, gently running her hands up and down your back and waist. she'll lay you out on the bed and devour you until you forget the prior worries.

catch an attitude with her? she'll make sure you remember her handprints on your ass for days to come. she'll press your chest into the bed as she pounds into you, wrapping her fist into your hair as she cranes your head back.

she's not crazy on sappy aftercare, but she'll hold you to her chest as she lights another cigarette, scratching at your scalp softly with her metal claws. if you really need it, she'll murmur additional praises and a few "i love you's" until you feel better.

GRAYSON | SFW

(i miss my girl)

grayson, who is often absorbed and swallowed in her work– still manages to make as much time as she can for her sweet girl. whether it's stopping by your apartment on her lunch break, or letting you curl up on the couch in her office, she'll take care of you.

she'll take you on romantic dates on her time off. she'll buy you a new dress for nearly each one and help you dress, pressing kisses to your skin as she slides the straps onto your shoulders. wherever you wanna go, she'll take you.

once she comes home from a too stressful day at work, she'll lay her head in your lap as water boils in a tea kettle. she dozes off as you stroke your hands through her hair, keeping your focus on the book in front of you.

she'll keep a nice fire going on the colder nights, holding you against her as you ramble about your job or studies, both of you sipping on a hot mug of tea.

she's protective and stern when she needs to be, but she also trusts you to be your own person. she doesn't let you go too far without her and prefers when you keep your arms linked, or your hand on her bicep.

NSFW

she's definitely on the softer side of being dominant. she loves watching you writhe in the same way that sevika does, but she'll be much more gentle about it. rather than pinning you to the bed, she'll wrap a strong arm around you as she holds your back against her chest, teasing her hands up and down your thighs.

she'll coo sweet praises into your ear, telling you how pretty and sweet you are.

however, don't take her kindness for granted in any way– she'll pry your legs open and hold them with her own. once she's finished with forcing you over the edge again, and again, she'll wipe the tears off your face and pout at you.

she prefers giving as well, she likes making you feel good, seeing you moan and gasp because of what she's doing sets something off inside of her.

as soft as she may be, she will fuck you within an inch of your life when presented the chance. she had a rough day at work? you better prepare yourself for what's to come.

she takes aftercare very seriously, as well. she'll wipe you down with a warm, wet towel and kiss all of the marks and bruises she left. there is no exception to this treatment, either. she'll lower you into a warm bath and wash you thoroughly.

CASSANDRA | SFW

cassandra, who struggles with balancing her job as a councilwoman and it often sends her home frustrated. but, she does her absolute best to never let you see that side of her. she's doting and attentive, making sure all of your needs are met.

she's stricter than the others, understanding that her position also puts you at more risk. she rarely let's you go out on your own, ensuring you always have a guard of some kind with you.

she loves when you write her letters or notes, whether you send them to work with her, or simply hand them to her.

she's sweet and caring, but she's the last person you would want to cross, especially when it comes to you. we saw how she pulled that gun on cait and vi, and she wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

on the rare occasion her frustration is projected onto you, she takes the space to collect her emotions before returning. she'll pull you into her lap and stroke your hair as your cheek rests on her shoulder. she'll apologize sincerely, correcting herself and immediately addressing her behavior.

she'll often send a maid to your quarters after she had already gotten up for the day, making sure you receive a nice breakfast in bed, filled with all of your favorite foods.

NSFW

some would say she's the strictest out of all of them. she doesn't tolerate brattiness or disobedience in any capacity. she expects proper behavior and obedience from you.

on the rare occasion you do choose to disobey her, it's normally due to lack of attention. she'll strap a vibrator against you and turn her attention to the work on her desk. listening to your whimpers and cries is a melody to her, satisfied as she finally breaks your bratty attitude.

she'll eventually untie you and ask if you're going to choose to behave. once you agree, she'll return to her usual self, dropping the once cruel façade.

similar to grayson, she'll wipe the tears from your face and press a gentle kiss to your head. she'll slowly work through your orgasm, singing gentle praises as she holds your trembling form.

she lovesss sticking her fingers into your mouth, watching you grovel at her feet as you sit on your knees and stare up at her.

she's also really great with aftercare. she's naturally nurturing, she'll coax you out of the submissive headspace slowly and help you sit up. once you have food and water in your system, she'll take you to the shower and clean you off.

AMBESSA | SFW

ambessa, who is difficult to work with sometimes. her stubbornness and callousness make it hard for her to properly express her love and appreciation for you.

she often does it through sending gifts or bringing back treasures and jewelry during her escapades. don't get me wrong, she adores you. but, growing up in such a rough environment has made it hard for her to understand how to treat you.

on the extremely rare occasion she's vulnerable with you, she shows it by slowly shedding her armor and sitting on your shared bed, head in her hands. she lets you rub your hands over her shoulders as you remain quiet, letting her open up when she's ready.

she loves when you sit on her lap during meetings, keeping her hand tight on your thigh or hips– smirking as the men before you two gawk at your pretty figure.

she likes watching you prance around the gala's she attends, admiring your pretty body through the dress she had chosen for you earlier that evening.

NSFW

you think sevika is rough? you're definitely in for it with her.

she likes it when you choose to be a little bratty and disobedient, she gets off on putting you right back into your place.

she'll grab you by your jaw a little too tightly and stare down at you hungrily, tilting your head back painfully. she likes wrapping her hand around your throat and listening to your whimpers, watching as you take in little gasps.

she's definitely the type to strap you so hard you walk with a limp the next day. she'll watch you smugly and tease you about it, askin' what happened to you in front of your peers.

she's more likely to degrade you than the others, calling you her pretty slut as she chokes you on her fingers.

she would DEFINITELY like watching grind against her thigh or leg, gripping your hips tightly as she controls your pace.

she likes when you're on top, forcing you to work for your orgasm if she's feeling a little extra mean. she knows you can't get off without her help, so she'll laugh as she watches you struggle.

she might not seem like it, but she is very good with aftercare. she makes up for her cruelness with a massage to the bruises on your skin. she'll wipe you off and help you drink your water, guiding your hands gently. she reminds you of how much she loves you, and means nothing of the mean words she says.

[starcurtain]

Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running

Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.

From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...

Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?

But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.

Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)

Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.

Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...

There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).

"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"

Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...

Shot, and chaser:

Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.

Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...

He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.

Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.

What level of down bad is "Abusing your powers as an Akademiya employee to keep tabs on your crush's library loans"? Just asking for a friend.

The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.

(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)

Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? 🫣

[luvhiromi]

pussy-eater! (jjk dilfs) pt 2 | nanami ver.

content: how i think nanami eats pussy.

a/n: this one only includes nanami cause this is a long one. sorry not sorry. pt 1 is here!

cw: porn with plot lmaooo, pussy-eating, nanami calls reader sweetheart/darling, praising kink, pussy-drunk nanami.

pairing: nanami x fem!reader

the series: pt 1, pt 3

Nanami Kento

This man  would want you to explicitly tell him what you want him to do to you. The reason? He loves seeing you embarrassed and fumbling with your words.

Would encourage you and reassure you sweetly, “You’re doing great sweetheart, use your big girl words and tell me what you want hm?” 

Loves seeing you blush and all shy for him, he thinks that it’s so sweet. After finally saying what you want, he’ll be so proud and kisses you softly. He’ll be praising you with soft whispers while his hands roam your body. 

Does all the work, he just wants you to feel pleasure and nothing else. He doesn’t stop until you’re all satisfied. 

Opening the door to his study, revealing Nanami still in his work attire. His suit jacket and tie was already discarded, several of his buttons are undone. His shirt is already wrinkled, a clear reflection of the stress he's under.

But the moment he saw you, all his stress and fatigue seemed to fade away. “What’s wrong, darling? Anything you need?” He asked you in a calm and soothing tone.

You’ve been needy this past few days. Nanami is always buried in a pile of work because of a big project, that he’s always on his laptop or study 24/7. But today was your last straw, that even after you used a nightgown that he liked so much, he just said “you look beautiful” and goes into his study to work again. 

So here you are, standing in front of his desk cause you want his undivided attention just for one night. But now that you're here, the words escape you, leaving you too flustered to speak. A pink hue spread across your cheeks and Nanami noticed it right away. A faint smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Tell me, darling, is there anything you need?” Nanami put his pen down and leaned back at his chair, manspreading. The words seemed to always get caught up in your throat, Nanami finds it amusing. “C’mere” His voice was soft yet authoritative as he pats his lap, inviting you to come over and sit. 

When you sat down on his lap, he immediately pulled you closer to him. Being this close to him has always made you nervous, “So what is it, sweetheart? Hmm? What’s going on in that pretty brain of yours?” Encouraging you to tell him. 

“Uhh…” Hesitating to tell him and as you take a deep breath you continued “I just wanted to spend time with you…” You explained vaguely to him. There was a soft smile forming on Nanami’s face, “Is that so, sweetheart? Use your big girl words and tell me what you really want hm?” He continued to urge you to spill your actual desires to him.

“I.. want you.. with me tonight… I want you with me for the whole night” You answered him hesitantly at first, but then repeated yourself with newfound confidence. Nanami brings his hand to cup your cheek and rubs his thumb on it, “Such a good girl, I might just give a special gift for being such a sweet girl for me.” He praises you dearly making you blush. Without any warning he stood up and places you gently on his desk, above all of his paper works.

You gasp softly as Nanami pushed your nightgown up to your stomach and peppers soft kisses on your stomach and your inner thighs. “My sweet girl… So needy.” He mutters as he pull your panties off gently, still littering kisses in your inner thighs.

“So pretty and all this for me? What a lucky man I am, darling” He says in such a sweet tone as he gives soft kisses to your puffy pussy before he drag his tongue in a long, slow stripe on your clit. “Hmm… So sweet…” Showering you in praises in between every lick and kiss to your sweet cunt. 

Your soft whines and moans drives him to bring more pleasure for you. His study is now filled with your moans and your squelching pussy. He focuses on your sweet spots and when you pulled on his hair, he couldn’t help but hummed sending vibrations to your sensitive cunt. “Close, darling?” He murmurs when he feels you clenched and tremble, the reaction he knows well. 

Nodding your head furiously, too drunk in pleasure to actually form words and answer him. Nanami grins at you and starts to devour you, sucking and licking your pussy like it was the last meal he would ever have. Your legs starts to shake, your head falls back, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. It felt like everything came crashing down as you came in his mouth. Your pussy trembles, it became swollen and puffy after the assaults.

Nanami licked your messy cunt clean, “Hmmm… Good girl… Your cunt taste like heaven, darling” Licking his lips clean and chuckles when he sees you trying to catch your breath after an intense orgasm. He got up and gives a soft peck to your forehead. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” He asked worriedly but there was a tinge of pride in his voice, for being able to pleasure you this way.

When you told him that you’re okay, of course he had to make sure this one thing. “Are you all satisfied, darling?” He asked with a sly smile. “Because I wouldn’t let my sweet girl go to sleep unsatisfied” He continued with a knowing smile on his face as he smiled sweetly at you. It may be sweet, but it sure is not innocent.

hope u guys like it <3 reblogs and likes are always appreciated!

[readwritealldayallnight]

Saw the post of you asking if we had any tropes or ideas we wanted to see u talk abt and jumped for joy 🙏 … must ask . Do u have any thoughts on ghost finding out reader is pregnant 😋😋

I like to think Ghost starts having suspicions before you do

Wrapped around each other’s bodies, limbs tangled in the sheets as you sleep peacefully with your other half by your side, he’s never not holding at least one of your boobs in his warm calloused palms. You start to wake up with complaints about how sore they are however, his hands in complete agreement with his eyes; your tits have gotten bigger.

And though he hates to see how uncomfortable they have you feeling all of a sudden, and how you whine so cutely about how you need new bras, your cleavage spilling out of your cups, he’s finding it rather difficult not to appreciate the new view.

Next though, he’s noticing how strange it is that foods you usually loved, now have you crinkling your nose up in disgust, turning your face away from the smell, or worse, that one time you ran to the bathroom to spill the contents of your stomach, utterly repulsed by a certain odor.

But he forgets that you haven’t requested Chinese food in nearly a month when instead he’s trying to wrap his mind around how you want peanut butter and jelly on a cheeseburger.

He certainly doesn’t think twice about how you’re just tad bit friskier than usual, pinching his ass and trying to jump his bones more often. There’s never been a lack of intimacy or wanting the other in your relationship, but you seem nearly insatiable recently, using and abusing his fingers, his mouth, his dick, multiple times a day. There are no complaints on his end, your man always being borderline desperate for you.

It’s when he’s been away for work for the last two weeks and he’s walking back into the house and he sees you, that his eyes cannot deny the way you’re simply glowing. Radiating effortless beauty in a way he’s never seen before, which is saying a lot considering you knock the breath out of him every time he’s lucky enough to see even just your shadow.

You look so soft, so sweet, so perfectly his.

He’s searching for a cloth to warm up under the faucet, preparing to clean up the mess he’s just made of you in bed over the last few hours, when his eyes land on the unopened box of tampons under the bathroom sink. His mind starts quickly doing the math, believing that in theory you should have had to open this pack by now, when things begin to click for him.

Laying naked on your back atop the messy sheets, still catching your breath and coming back down to earth after the many times Simon brought you to bliss tonight, you’re admittedly confused when he comes back into the bedroom without the towel he said he was going to get. You’re even more caught off guard when he approaches you and lays two hands on the sides of your stomach, face approaching your abdomen with an expression of concentration on his face.

“Si what are you-”

“Love, I think you’re pregnant.”

He’s lucky you’ve been having the same suspicion for a few days now, waiting for him to take an actual test and find out, otherwise you might be smacking him upside the head right about now.

Once you do take the test however and confirm what he already felt sure of, that he had put a baby in you, he’s asking you why it isn’t appropriate to tape it to the living room wall for everyone to see, elated to share the news with those in your lives, meanwhile you’ve just decided he won’t be helping decorate the nursery, beyond building furniture.

[venusbyline]

Oasis ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 01, oct.

— pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: squirting + overstimulation

— summary: Spencer finds out another guy made you squirt in the past and it hits a nerve. You agree to try this with him, even after your husband's sudden childish behavior.

— word count: 4.3k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 1st day, female!reader, husband!Reid, squirting, overstimulation, arguing, mention of safeword (no use), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), curse words, light degradation, biting, body worship, no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @magnoliatrees-world @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00

— crossposting: AO3

Ever since Spencer had to stay away from Virginia for more than fifteen days solving an extremely urgent criminal case, you've been needy all the time. Your thoughts were in an ironical division between your concern for your husband's safety and well-being, but also the pure desperation and desire to be touched by him again as soon as he returned home.

And it didn't happen.

Unfortunately, Spencer arrived so tired the night before that he didn't even bother to reheat his dinner. After all, it wasn't your fault if he returned late and the lasagna was already cold. Spencer was never a husband who demanded you anything. Both of you cooked and took turns doing the other tasks... As any couple should do. Of course he never complained if you didn't make his lunch before work. It was the least a husband should do. And you two knew it.

So it was a big surprise when there were no welcome hugs and kisses, but just the rolling of his eyes when he noticed that you put his dish in the fridge due the lateness. A spoiled attitude coming from him, and you gave up the lecture because you supposed he was just exhausted and frustrated after the case he solved with the team.

However, that didn't last long. Spencer simply took his things to sleep in the guest room. That made you angry as hell. He couldn't be being such a petty brat over a damn cold dinner, right? Spencer wasn't like that.

It was only a few minutes before you followed Spencer into the other room, asking for an at least reasonable explanation for what was happening to him.

And your hope of ending the night of Spencer's return with a good sex was completely dashed due to the unexpected argument.

During the morning, you left the room still sleepy and grumpy by Spencer's behavior last night, but tried to focus on other things. You tried to distract yourself by making the breakfast, furrowed brow as you watched the eggs and bacon strips frying in the pan.

You turned the piece of meat to the other side when you realized that it was already a little fried, but you let out a sigh when you felt hands entwining around your waist, the recognition of the shaving lotion smell preventing you from screaming in fright.

"It smells great..." Spencer hummed with groggy voice from sleep, leaning over so he could be at your height and resting his chin on your shoulder. The compliment about the good scent he was also flowing almost escaped your lips, but you remained silent, ignoring his existence right there behind you. Even though you hated giving him the silent treatment, your pride was wounded and you needed to give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, he had been trying to ignore you all night, before the uncomfortable silence turned into a stupid fight.

Not getting any reaction made Spencer's heart to ache, and he sighed. "Honey, please... Talk to me. You know how much it hurts me not to talk to you."

You couldn't help but let out a mockery sound, without even looking at him back. "Seriously, Reid? Because I remember very well that you were planning to do exactly that shit last night."

Your accusation made Spencer let out a frustrated sigh, his hands letting go of your waist and taking a few steps away. For a moment, you thought he was angry too and going back to guest room or maybe the living room, but instead, you looked at him furiously as he turned off the flame of the stove.

"What the hell? I haven't finished cooking yet!" You exclaimed with a frown, not believing your husband's boldness.

"Yeah... I know." Spencer took a deep breath, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. "You can finish later. I need to explain myself."

"Oh, so now you wanna explain yourself?" You scoffed. "Maybe if you had done that yesterday instead of treating me like trash or-"

Spencer cut you off, holding your shoulders gently but firmly enough to make you shut up and pay attention to what he needed to say.

"I'm so sorry, okay?" He began and one of your eyebrows rose in a nonverbal sarcasm sign. "I'm serious, honey. I was an asshole last night and-"

"Yes. You were." Your words came out colder than he was expecting and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "You threw a lot of shit at me without me even knowing why we were fighting."

Spencer took another deep breath, trying to work up the courage to confess about what messed with his mind. He knew that nothing he said would justify his actions and that was making him anxious, his heart ached not only at the mere thought of you not forgiving his childish behavior, but also at the possibility of you keeping to avoid his touches and his attempts to talk.

Spencer let go of your shoulders, his hands coming down until they were intertwined with yours, even if your fingers were stiff at first.

"I was jealous..." The confession finally came in an embarrassed whisper.

A perplexity look appeared on your face. "Jealous? Of what?" You asked, trying to look him in the eyes, even though his face was tilted down, a few strands of hair hiding his flushed cheeks. When he didn't answer, you insisted, lightly touching his fingers that were still intertwined with yours. "Explain it to me, Spencie."

Your demand said by a less angry way made him whimper, needing to be honest. "Y-Yesterday, after the case, the team was at the BAU. JJ, Prentiss and Garcia were talking some personal stuff about their sex lives..." Spencer began. "I-I wasn't paying attention, logically, I swear. I was with Morgan and Hotch talking about random things, but my hearing accidentally picked up a certain topic of the talk between the girls and-"

"Spencie..." Your voice softer now that you noticed how he seemed embarrassed and stuttering like a little child, as well as he was also beating around the bush. "I know you're nervous, but you could try going straight to the point, please? I'm worried here too."

Spencer nodded, knowing you were right. "I accidentally heard JJ whispering to the girls that you already had a squirt." He murmured and it was your turn to get hot and rosy cheeks. You could imagine that JJ hadn't told your secret as a gossip, but rather to add some important information on the subject, but it still left you embarrassed. "But you never had a squirt with me..."

Your eyes widened with realization and you tried to work around the situation. "Baby..."

"Don't do that... Please. I know how it works, okay? I know that not every woman can squirt and I also know that those of you who can squirt don't necessarily do this often. I've also read that it's not always as pleasing for you as porn makes it seem-"

You cut him off. "So you also know that squirting doesn't always happen during a orgasm. It can also happen even without cumming. It's something individual for each woman, it's not like an exact rule."

Spencer huffed angrily. "I know, fuck. I know..." He grumbled, running a hand over his face. "I know how all this shit works. But it doesn't change anything."

"What doesn't change, Reid?" You exclaimed impatiently now.

"The fact that you hid this from me!" Spencer shouted and you immediately rolled your eyes. "Damn, don't you dare roll your eyes at me. You don't know how much hearing that behind my back hurt me."

"Retroactive jealousy? Really, Spencer? You know better than anyone this doesn't make any sense." You huffed, massaging your temples to avoid the huge urge to pick up that frying pan and hit your husband in the back of the head.

His jaw clenched when you mentioned that. "It's not... It's not just jealousy, much less the retroactive one." He was stubborn like a fucking child, the sight of Spencer crossing his arms to try to look more mature almost made you chuckle.

"Oh, I bet it is, and very immature too." The scoff escaped before you could think of something more gentle to say. "Fuck, Spencer. It's not like we share details about our past sex lives with each other. That would be really awkward and uncomfortable. I don't wanna know what you've done with other women in your past and I guess you don't wanna know what I've done in my past either."

Spencer kept his arms crossed, but his eyebrows shot up and his jaw clenched for the second time, a clear sign that he knew you were right, it was just hard to admit.

"Well, I really don't wanna hear about that old stuff, but this is important one..."

"Why on earth would this be important?"

"BECAUSE NOW I'M FEELING INSUFFICIENT!" Spencer uncrossing his arms as he looked at you with despair. "I feel like I'm not giving you enough pleasure! Now I feel like I've never given you a decent orgasm."

You felt your eyes widen again. It all still didn't make any sense, it was something completely irrational coming from Spencer. You knew that academically, Spencer was always a genius who knew about anything in the world, but when it was something regarding you or your relationship, he acted like any man, lost with most situations and also insecure at times.

"You're being ridiculous." You grumbled, trying to push past him before his hand closed around your wrist, keeping you firmly in place.

"I know. I know I'm being immature and irrational, but-"

"But what, Spencer? Jesus Christ, if you were trying to deal with jealousy, it would have been easier to have asked to fuck me last night or something."

His face flushed and he began to stutter, not knowing what to do other than let go of your arm.

After two minutes of awkward silence, Spencer tried to argue again. "That's not... That doesn't make sense. We can't solve our relationship problems by having sex..."

His hypocrisy made you roll your eyes. "Oh, sure. And fighting solved it?" You asked and he looked away, knowing you were right. Again. "Yesterday I was really desperate to have sex with you."

He lifted his head and looked at you, surprised. "You mean that?"

You laughed quietly due to the confusion in his face. "Yes, Spencie. You've been away from home for over a fortnight, do you really think I'm not fucking horny?"

Spencer stopped to think for a moment, scratching the back of his head and trying hard to find a solution to the stupid situation he created. "So can we... Can we try?"

You looked at him, thinking about denying it out of a tantrum, but you just sighed and then argued. "I don't know, Spencer... I'm not in the mood, but we can try just for learning purposes. More like a lesson than our real sex."

A guilt expression appeared on Spencer's face, along with a pang in his chest. The idea of you not even wanting to have real sex with him for now was torturous for him. He knew he had failed with you, being so immature to the point of making you lose your lust about the situation. But he could try to redeem himself. Even though it was a selfish thought at first, he was now determined to apologize properly.

"Yes... Yes, that sounds good..." He gave you a sad smile.

You lay down on the bed and put a pillow under your hip. Your pajamas were already thrown somewhere random on the floor, just like the pink cotton panties. You were ready to teach Spencer whatever he needed to learn.

There was no certainty that he would be able to make you squirt. You always had the best orgasms when Spencer was in charge of pleasuring you, but he was feeling less after the discovery that you had already squirted with the help of another man. A man who wasn't him.

Maybe hiding this fact from him hadn't been tbe wisest choice, even if you hadn't done it on purpose. You just didn't think that mentioning this situation or asking Spencer to try that would really be so important. Over the years, no man had given you half the pleasure that Spencer gave you on a daily basis, squirting or not.

"Well, let's do it." Your words came out emotionless as you parted your legs, giving him the perfect view of your still barely wet pussy.

"You're shaved..." Spencer frowned at your complete lack of pubic hair so suddenly. Or at least that's what he thought.

You rolled your eyes, impatience side by side with embarrassment, both eating you alive. "Like I said, I was desperate to fuck with you as soon as you got back from the case. So I decided to get a full wax beforehand."

At other times, Spencer would laugh hearing you confess so openly about your high desire for his body over the past few weeks. At other times, he would even tease you about needing a vibrator to help you achieve your release when he was away, even if you were more than capable of cumming with your own fingers.

But your hands didn't provide you the same ecstasy that Spencer's long thin fingers made you feel. And he knew it too.

You felt yourself holding your breath the moment Spencer took off his shirt to make himself more comfortable. As much as your pride told you to look away from his body, it was impossible for you to stop enjoying the view. Watching Spencer's bare skin was as addictive as the fresh water of an Oasis should be for thirsty people walking through deserts. And you couldn't lie... You were desperate to quench your thirst and taste him again after all that time away from each other.

Spencer knelt on the floor, carefully pulling your legs so that your lower body was closer to the edge of the bed, and automatically closer to his face.

"Are you okay, honey?" He asked with a cocky smile as he felt your thighs tingle as he touched them to adjust your position.

Hearing your husband's sarcastic smugness, you held back from punching him in the shoulder. "Yeah, I'm great." Your voice sounded angry and he chuckled softly, nodding his head and turning his attention to your center, which was finally starting to get wetter.

"I'm seeing..."

You ignored his mockery and looked at the ceiling, not wanting to exchange eye contact at that moment. Spencer's puppy eyes plus his mischievous smile were an almost fallen angel combination. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing or the Devil in disguise, just as Elvis Presley said in that song.

Spencer giggled as he ran his fingertips down your thighs, caressing your skin so gently that it felt like delightful torment. You fought to maintain an expression of indifference and boredom, but the goosebumps that passed through your body told him a different story.

Already knowing that not so soon you would give in and admit your lust, Spencer began to left kisses spread across the lower part of your thighs, enjoying the sound of your breathing becoming increasingly panting.

"What's the next step, professor? Your teaching method it's being too silent..." Spencer joked and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Just... Just keep doing what you always do for now." You hummed with the last bit of patience you had left, grabbing the sheet to keep your hands out of Spencer's hair.

Another chuckle escaped Spencer's lips and he nodded, placing more soft kisses on your skin before moving closer to your pussy again, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of your essence for a few seconds before leaving a quick delicate kiss on your bud. “F-fuck…” You squirmed slightly, your eyes widening at his unexpected action. "T-this is new..."

"I saw something like this while I was watching porn after our argument and I thought this might be good for you." Spencer confessed and you nodded with difficulty, a confirmation that the wished effect was occurring.

You looked at Spencer's cute face, but the eye contact lasted very little time, because as soon as Spencer's tongue began to tease your clit, your head arched back, more moans escaping as he held your legs firmly, not letting you give in to the normal human reaction of trying to deflect sudden pleasure. "Fuck... Why is this even better than usual?"

Spencer laughed again at the question you asked amidst the moaning session. He knew you were more touchy this time and he had an idea why. Probably due to the fact that both of you missed each other's bodies, as well as the fact that he was working hard as if it were actually a goal to be achieved, a prize to be won. But he wouldn't stop licking you to admit it. Deep down, he supposed that you were realizing that too.

"T-two fingers, Spencer! Put two fingers inside!" Your order left him a little disconcerted, since despite everything, he was used to putting in one finger at a time. As soon as he did what you demanded to him, he felt the walls of your pussy almost crushing his fingers, a desperate moan escaping your lips, fleshy and reddened from holding back the sounds that wanted to escape.

"Damn, honey... You're needy today." Spencer smirked, starting the movements more gently, wanting to enjoy the sight of you writhing around his fingers, begging for more. "You said it would just be a lesson, just a method to stop my stupid retroactive jealousy... But you're loving it, don't you?"

You just kept moaning. Even though the pleasure was obvious by the way your cheeks flushed and your hips rolled around Spencer's fingers. Pride prevented you from saying you were excited to make a mess on the sheets.

When Spencer interspersed the fingerfucking and his lips closing slightly around your clit, starting to suck gently, an immediate whimper left your lips. "F-fuck, do it again. Do it one more time, Spencie."

Spencer, the genius who learned too quickly, followed your commands like a good boy, sucking the swollen bud again, his fingers moving faster when he noticed how you eyes were rolling back in pleasure. It was a divine view. He could fuck you for hours, just as he could watch you cum for hours too.

He greedily licked away your first orgasm of the day, even though he knew it still wasn't enough. It still wasn't the goal you two were looking to achieve that morning. However, not only did Spencer never waste the opportunity to take in every drop of your sweet release, but he also knew that the first orgasm could make it easier to get closer to your potential squirt.

And to be honest, he might even be content with your normal orgasms, since you looked so beautiful when you came on his lips.

Your lungs burned for air as his breathing normalized, his heartbeat became faster and your vision readjusting to reality. When the white flashes disappeared, you look back at Spencer, who still has a cocky smile on his face, his fingers still working inside you.

"Honey, you're a very unfocused teacher." He mocked and the literal joke made you laugh, a weak, breathless sound, mixed with some sighs of pleasure that were impossible to you contain.

"Or maybe my dearest student's very diligent. Too much, actually." Your mockery made him laugh too. His lips moving closer to your intimacy again, but now focusing on nibbling the flesh of your thigh, speeding up his fingerfucking again. Even the smallest touch making you whimper, your pussy tightening from the overstimulation.

Spencer noticed this and bit your skin for the second time, now with a little more pressure, and you were sure you heard the neighbor from the next apartment knock on the wall to curse you for the sudden fucking loud moan in the middle of the morning. This only further increased Spencer's growing arousal and your need for more release. "Grumpy old woman." You mumbled about her, trying hard to hide the embarrassment that colored your cheeks.

"Oh, c'mon... Don't be shy, my dear wife." Spencer chuckled, licking your soft flesh before teasing your with his teeth again, but now just scraping them across your skin until he reached your core. You felt the moment when the central and lateral incisors brush against your clit. It was a soft act despite it taking a gasp from you due to the little pain. And then he did it again, returning to moving his fingers roughly.

When Spencer nibbled on your swollen clit, you almost screamed, but his free hand stopped you from moving away from him. “Relax, baby…” He purred, licking your sensitive pussy to redress for the pain he caused, his wet warm tongue matching perfectly with the bitter sting of his teeth returning to bit the same spot. It was so painful and hot...

“S-Spencie…” You whimpered as he blew on your slightly tortured clit. A rush of air so brief that you would barely feel it usually, but now, with your pussy burning in flames, the mere breeze of his sigh in that right spot made you shiver and squeeze his fingers tighter.

"It's okay, I'm feeling it, baby... I'm feeling your little pussy squeezing me. Are you gonna cum again? Will you be a good wife and wet my tongue with your cum?" Spencer practically growled, focusing back on fingering you, his fingers moving in and out of you at such a fast pace that the wet obscene noise joined your moans, filling the room like music to Spencer's ears.

The moment his tongue returned to licking your soaked folds, your body shook more than expected and you opened your mouth in a silent scream, your back writhing in Spencer's grip, arched and aching as the clear jets wetted your husband's face, a guttural groan escaping him as he opened his eyes to see you with your eyes closed and your legs shaking as he committed himself to drinking every drop from the fountain you provided.

Spencer didn't give you time to adjust to that non-routine orgasm. He took care of remaining with his head in the same position, between your thighs, licking your pussy as if it were the tastiest Oasis' water. Savoring the flavor, eyes closed as he concentrated on getting messy, not caring which part of his face he was rubbing against your warm cunt. Whether it was the lips, the nose, the chin... He rubbed every inch of his face, noticing how your moans became desperate again and you tried to push his head away, a mix of overstimulation and shyness.

Spencer always loved eating you out. However, nothing was like now. Nothing was like feeling eaten alive by a hungry lover, and at the same time so worshiped by him.

"J-Jesus... it's enough, Spencie. S-stop, please." You tried to push him away, enough to get a heavenly view of his face glistening due your juices, completely messed up and handsome like a angel.

But he looked up grinning like a devil. "Unless you want or need to say your safeword, then it's not enough and I'm not stopping now." He threatened, even though you two knew that the one word would stop him immediately.

Instead of answering him, you grabbed the back of Spencer's head closer to your already swollen pussy. He removed his fingers, focusing on letting you rub against his face. Every inch of the tip of his nose brushing against your folds was enough to make more pathetic whimpers come from you, plus a little liquid leaking out, now in light jets and low quantities.

You trembled, letting go of the back of his head and looking at him with your lip bleeding from biting so much. You wanted to say something, anything to say thank you, but Spencer had other plans. His fingers, still soaked from fucking your walls, began to return working on your clit. He smirked at your screams of pleasure, the tears streaming down your face... And he enjoyed every minute of all of this, exchanging his long fingers for his own palm, where the friction turned aggressiver, more painful, eliciting louder screams from you as he practically left your pussy raw, biting your thighs to create a mix of impressive actions whose only possible consequence was having you squirting into the palm of his hand, screaming like a whore. His little whore. Only his.

And when you did it, Spencer finally moved his arms away from your body. You sobbed, eyes closed and tears flowing. But he knew you were fine, especially when you let out a soft, weak and shy chuckle at just hearing the sound of him licking his own fingers so as not to waste any drop of your squirt.

"Was I better than your ex?" Spencer teased, pulling you to his chest, where he could caressing your hair and calm your tremors from all the orgasms he gave you.

Still with your eyes closed to try and calm down, you let out a scoff through your nose. He already understands how you feel, but that doesn't stop him from wanting you to say it, loud and clear. You nodded at his provocation and received a soft kiss on your forehead, while his hands snaked around your waist, getting closer to your tired and fragile body. "You're a very smart and diligent student." You managed to scoff and Spencer laughed, kissing your cheeks.

"Only because you're my favorite professor, honey."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[buckiverse]

Missing You Always

based on the steal a moment phone call!!

☆--- paring: sylus x reader

☆--- summary: Your marriage to Sylus has been a challenging one because of your long distant status. Sylus is determined to remind you that distance can't diminish what you share. He reassures not only your mind but also your body, reminding you why you're meant for each other.

☆--- word count: 4.5k

☆--- warnings: mdni, slight angst, there's comfort don't worry, soft!dom sylus, you take a bath together, oral sex, fingering, doggy, back shots, bit of background story, sylus is an eater ok..., (he eats your cum), size kink if you squint, no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: i had to get this one out quick because rafayel is quickly taking over my brain ngl.

Just a couple of months before, you married Sylus. He has certainly lived up to (and well beyond) your expectations. While he is the perfect loving husband, your current situation is less than favorable. You knew what you agreed to in this marriage, and you knew the first few years would be difficult, but it did not stop you from feeling a pang in your chest when you arrived home, and your lovely husband was not there because, well, he is still in the N109 Zone. 

You walked into the front door of your shared home with Sylus, but then again, was it? He is never here during the week. You had both discussed it plenty in the early stages of your relationship, but that did not make the adjustment any easier now that you had moved back to Linkon. Being a hunter was difficult for you, mind, body, and spirit. 

Despite your feelings, you fought to hold on until the weekend. You knew Sylus was coming home to you soon. After work tomorrow, you would go home, and your lover would be waiting for you. That thought made you smile. 

You strolled into your home through the grand entryway, maneuvering through it to find the living area. Walking through the arch, you looked above your head to see the chandelier suspended above the coffee table. Turning your head, you observed the ceiling-to-floor windows, admiring the sunset. 

Your imagination took over, the thought of walking in tomorrow, noticing the lit fireplace, candles throughout the room, and the signature scent of vanilla being carried throughout the room. You’d know without a doubt that he was home. Your gaze would be drawn to the kitchen where Sylus would be standing. Maybe he got a gift for you, he usually does, something that reminded him of you during your signature five days apart.

“I miss him,” you said aloud reluctantly. A sigh escaped your lips, and your hands covered your eyes, leaving you feeling the somber silence around you.

A few beats of silence were interrupted by Sylus’s signature ringtone. Pulling you from your mind, you shifted quickly, searching for your phone. Making your way to your work bag, you pull the phone out of the front pocket before swiping “accept” on Sylus’s phone call. 

Sylus: "You have no idea how much I’ve missed this—just hearing your voice, sweetie. It’s been way too long. Feels like forever since I’ve had you all to myself." You: "I know, baby. I’ve missed you too. Every night, I go to bed wishing you were here." Sylus: "Soon, though. Tomorrow, it’s all about us. You and me, finally. I’ve been counting down the days." You: "Me too. I remember the last time we were together…our little movie night… I loved it so much." Sylus: "Yeah? Well, tomorrow, I plan to make it even better. We’ve got catching up, and I’m not just talking about our dinner date, sweetie. I’ve been thinking about you non-stop. I miss touching you, holding you… just being with you." You: "I can’t wait. I’ve been thinking about it all week. Just the thought of being with you makes everything feel right." Sylus: "Good. Because tomorrow, the second I walk through that door, I’m not letting you go. No distractions, no interruptions, just you and me. How’s that sound?" You: "Sounds perfect. I’ve been dying to just… be with you again. Really be with you." Sylus: "Good. ‘Cause I plan to remind you how much I’ve missed you in every way."

☆---

"Hey, Sy! Are you almost here yet?" Your voice carried a hint of strain as you focused on dinner preparations. You had cubed some steak, and the hot grease sizzled and popped back at you while you basted the meat with a rich butter-garlic mixture, ensuring each piece absorbed the flavorful glaze.

“Yes, Kitten. I should be there in a few minutes, but check the door; there's a gift for you outside.”

“Oh! Okay, I didn't know. I’ll go look.” You disconnected the call with Sylus and went to the front door of your house. You saw an absurdly large box waiting for you as you opened the door. You maneuvered the box inside, wanting to open it. You grabbed your knife, tearing through the tape on the top. Once opened, you saw the little white note inside waiting for you. 

“For our date.” The simple cursive of the letter made you raise an eyebrow till you bent down and opened the box. You found face masks, bath bombs, moisturizers, oils, candles, and anything you could have desired.

“Ah, so he planned a self-care night. How cute!” Then you heard the door creak open, causing you to turn around. You dropped the items swiftly back in the box, overwhelmed with emotion.  

“I’m home, my love,” he said sweetly. A large smile instantly plastered your face at the sight of him, and you ran into his arms. You could admit that while you were growing used to your hyper-independence, you missed him. His scent, his touch, his presence. How your days to weeks apart made your heart grow fonder was amazing.

You ran to him, jumping in his arms. He caught you quickly as you gave him a tight hug. “I missed you,” you whispered into his ear, pressing soft kisses to his ear lobe. He shuddered at the feeling of your kiss, his eyes falling closed. You pulled your head back to look into his eyes. The heat of your soft kisses ran through him as he opened his eyes to meet yours. He placed his forehead flush against yours, a smile appearing on his face. His hands tightened his hold on you. 

“Oh, sweetie, you don’t want to know how much I wished I could come to you this past week,” Sylus said, his eyes dropping to your lips. Holding you with just one arm, his right hand caressed your face. Your face flushed a bit. The look in his eyes said even more than his words. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, “I missed this,” he said, kissing you languidly, almost like you were frozen in time. “And this,” his hand moved, tilting your chin upwards and to the side, pressing a taught kiss to your jaw. “This,” he tilted his head and kissed your neck slowly, starting where your jaw meets your neck, down to where your collarbone begins, before his teeth found your skin, nibbling on it gently. 

A rough breath came from your lips. The feeling of his lips and teeth on you always felt amazing. “Sylusss, let’s finish dinner. I smell it burning,” you said, smelling the cube steak slowly turning into burnt steak.  

He kissed you once more and nibbled on the skin by your collarbone. “Okay, we wouldn’t want dinner to burn now, would we?” he laughed, placing you on your feet. You turned around and made your way to the kitchen, still feeling flustered by how he kissed you moments ago. 

Sylus followed closely behind, his presence warm and comforting. You carefully plated the meal—tender, butter-basted (slightly burnt) steak cubes, roasted vegetables, and creamy mashed potatoes. The rich aroma filled the kitchen, the perfect mix of savory and satisfying.

"Smells amazing, sweetie," Sylus murmured as he leaned against the counter, watching you with that familiar, teasing grin.

You handed him his plate, the warmth of the food almost matching the heat between you two. Together, you carried the plates to the couch, where the night would begin. The soft lighting in your house casts a cozy glow, setting the perfect mood for the evening ahead.

"Dinner and a show?" he teased, settling beside you, his eyes lingering on yours.

You laughed softly. "Something like that. Let’s just say… we won’t leave this couch for a while."

Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "I like the sound of that."

You both dug into the meal, the flavors rich and comforting, but the real excitement lingered between each bite, the anticipation building for the rest of the date.

The movie you chose to accompany your dinner was a sad romantic comedy. It may not have been the best choice because now you are trying to keep tears from falling from your eyes. You wanted to enjoy your time with Sylus, not cry over nothing.

But you couldn’t help yourself. The movie discusses a couple struggling to navigate their careers. They got pulled in different directions and did not end up together… It was eerie; it was too reminiscent of your current insecurities.

You turned your head, looking at Sylus, who was already turned towards you. His brows furrowed in concern. “What’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours, hmm?” he said, bringing his hand to rest on your cheek as he slowly stroked your face. 

His tenderness and compassion for you were mind-blowing. His never-ending patience was world-shattering. A tear fell from your eye, wetting his hand. “Is this going to work? I don’t want to end up like them, Sylus.” You finally met his fierce eyes, forcing yourself to hold contact as you shared your insecurity with him.

“Listen, this isn’t forever. It's hard now, but it is temporary. I will make sure of that, " he said, his voice strained at the sight of your tears. He pulled you forward to hug him, and his embrace instantly comforted you. “I promise,” he whispered into your ear, placing the softest kiss on your earlobe. 

You pulled back ever so slightly to look him in the eyes. “I trust you, Sylus,” you said, sniffling and wiping your face. He smiled at you slightly, and your admission meant much more to him than you’d ever know. 

“Let’s continue our date. I found those face masks you’ve been texting me,” he offered. “I saw! Where’d you even find those,” you exclaimed and lightly hit his chest. You both laughed together, feeling a bit lighter now.

You shifted to your shared bathroom, which had quite an industrial feel. The walls were covered with deep blue tiles, and the floor was a patterned blue tile, which beautifully complemented the gold and brown accents throughout the room. Walking on your bare feet, the tiles felt cold under your feet, chilling your whole body and giving you goosebumps. 

Sylus followed behind you closely. The brown box rested in his large hands as he placed it on the wide granite counter. He unpacked the box, pulling out the candles, face masks, oils/lotions, and bath items. 

You walked behind him, grabbing the candles and placing them around the large bathroom. The scent of a sweet candle promptly filled the air, spreading through the room. You turned off the warm lights, allowing the candles to be your light source. 

Further setting your space for the date, you turned on some smooth jazz—something you and Sylus would appreciate. Playing instruments was not an easy feat, as you would know after your multiple failed attempts at playing the piano. 

Walking back into the bathroom connected to your primary suite, you saw that Sylus had begun to draw bath water for you two. His hand was wading in and out of the water, monitoring the temperature. You just watched as he worked. He had fresh roses in a plastic bag on the floor next to him. He picked them up, removing the petals. The red roses filled the white bathtub, some resting atop the beautiful bubble bath he made for you two.

“Do you need help getting ready for the bath?” He said suddenly, turning his head to look at you, a slight grin on your face.

“I could use some help,” you said playfully, a pout forming on your cocked head. 

Sylus stopped the bath water and was now ready for you two to share. He made his way over to you and stood tall before you. You lifted your arms, and he moved to lift your t-shirt above your head, tossing it somewhere in the bedroom, leaving you in a lacy black bra. You watched his eyes shift downward to your chest before looking you in the eyes. He laughed a bit, knowing you caught him looking.

“Your turn, Sy,” you said.

“Whatever you say, Sweetie,” he replied playfully. He lifted his arms above his head, knowing damn well he was too tall for you to pull the shirt above his head. So, instead, he moved to his knees, making it easier for you. You reached down, pulling his casual shirt over his head, leaving him shirtless, on his knees for you. Your eyes widened a bit at the sight. You’d never get over this.

“Now, these must go,” Sylus said. He was hooking his large fingers into the waistband of your black leggings and panties. He pulled them down slowly, leaving you in just a bra before him. “Always so beautiful for me,” he said, desire filled his eyes. 

He reluctantly stood to his feet, standing at full height as he moved to unclasp your bra. “May I?” He whispered tenderly against the shell of your ear. 

“Of course, baby,” you said softly. You heard the click of the bra behind you, your breasts falling as they left the support of the bra. 

Sylus stepped back, looking over your nude body. 

You flushed at his gaze, lifting your arms to cover your body. “The bath is getting cold,” you said, suddenly feeling shy in front of your husband.

“Let’s get in, sweetie,” Sylus said with a grin, swiftly slipping off his sweatpants and briefs. He lowered himself into the bath, the water rippling as he settled in, leaving space for you to join him.

You stepped into the hot bath, the warmth enveloping your legs as the water sloshed with your added weight. Steadying your hands on the tub's edge, you guided yourself in, sinking fully until your back rested against Sylus’s broad chest. The hot water worked wonders on your tense muscles, soothing the stress from both your bodies.

The demands of your careers, the physical toll of your work as a hunter, and the mental strain of being apart all faded away at this moment. This was exactly what you both needed: to be close and together.

Closing your eyes, you leaned your head to the side, resting it on Sylus’s strong bicep. You lost yourself in the feeling of him, ignoring the soft glow of candles and the distant music. None of it mattered as much as the sensation of his body against yours. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the hard lines of his abs, the strength in his thighs. Your fingers traced the vein from his bicep to his forearm, grounding you in the moment.

The warmth of his skin against yours was everything—comforting, intimate. You were both aware of his cock pressed against your ass, but for now, you both ignored it, savoring the quiet closeness. In this shared silence, nothing else mattered.

The warmth of the bath pulled you into a sense of calm, but the steady rise and fall of Sylus’s chest beneath you stirred something more. You could not ignore how his hands started to drift, one moving slowly up your arm, the other settling on your waist, his finger tracing gentle circles on your skin. A quiet hum of satisfaction escaped your lips as you shifted slightly, pressing your back more firmly against him.

“You feel incredible, sweetie,” Sylus murmured into your ear, his deep voice sending a shiver through you despite the warmth of the water.

The light touch of his lips grazed your shoulder, and you felt a surge of heat build inside you. His lips lingered, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your neck, his breath hot against your skin. 

You tilted your head back to give him better access, your heart quickening as his touch became firmer, more deliberate. The tension between you that had been quietly building suddenly felt undeniable. His hand slid down to your thigh, squeezing gently, and you felt a low moan escape your lips.

"Sylus..." you whispered, your voice breathless, your body instinctively pressing against him. His cock, which you both had been ignoring, now became impossible to dismiss.

He growled softly, lips still brushing your neck. "I’ve missed this," Sylus whispered, his lips brushing your ear, voice deep and full of desire. "But I think it's time we take this somewhere... a little more open."

Without waiting for an answer, he shifted beneath you, his strong arms lifting you out of the water as easily as if you weighed nothing. Water dripped from your skin, splashing back into the tub as he stood, holding you effortlessly in his arms.

"Sylus!" you gasped, gripping his shoulders as he carried you with that familiar, confident grin. He didn’t speak and just gave you a knowing look, his eyes dark with intent.

He walked you over to the bathroom counter, the cool surface contrasting the heat radiating from your body. Gently but firmly, Sylus sat you down, your wet skin making contact with the smooth countertop, the chill making you gasp.

Before you could fully adjust to your new position, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands tugging you forward, positioning you exactly how he wanted. His gaze locked onto yours as he parted your plush thighs, his breath hot against your skin.

"I told you, sweetie," he growled, eyes filled with desire. "Your wish is my command."

Your eyes widened at the sight of him on his knees before you. You were breathless, waiting for his next move.

Sylus’s fingers slotted between your folds, moving to spread them open for him. Your pussy was already so wet, and his fingers were soaked in your slick just from opening you up. He pressed a firm kiss against your pretty little clit. His kiss was slow, testing your reaction. Your hips bucked from his kiss. He could tell you’ve grown needy for him. 

“It seems I'm not taking good care of my wife.” His intense gaze reached yours. His mouth opened, allowing his hot tongue to make contact with your sensitive clit. 

A moan fell from your lips. You were quickly feeling overwhelmed. The cold counter, your wet skin, his tongue, his eye contact. You couldn’t help but close your eyes. There was too much going on. 

His tongue expertly flicked your clit, and he was messily making out with your cunt. He decided he would spell his name on it. He loved reminding you who you belonged to after your time apart. He moved his index finger, choosing to work your hole while pleasing your clit. His finger stroked your entrance back and forth, dipping inside a bit more each time he made a pass. You moved your hands to grip under your legs, bracing yourself. Your head bent back, resting against the large mirror in the bathroom. 

He shifted his expert tongue, closing his lips around your clit. Nibbling on your clit lightly, dragging your attention back to him. It’s almost like he was punishing you for looking away from him. 

“Eyes on me, Kitten,” Sylus said, his words sending vibrations straight into your clit, as he pushed his larger finger into you. Beginning to stroke your insides, he found that little sensitive button inside you, pressing it firmly, causing you to squirm beneath him, growing heat in your belly. You could feel the heat going to your face at the sight before you. 

Sylus wanted—needed all of you, but more than anything, he needed your attention. He has to know that you share his desire.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. You fought to keep your eye on him, even as your pleasure began to build up inside you. The heat of his mouth, his fingers pumping into you expertly, just felt so good.

During the days you spent apart, you counted the hours away. The feeling of his tongue on yours, his body against yours, nothing could compare to what you share with Sylus. The spots are the only ones he knows and can only dare to explore. He blew your mind every time. 

You shifted one of your hands to grip his white hair. It slotted between your fingers so easily when you tugged it like that. A groan released from his mouth, vibrating your cunt. 

“I– oh fuck,” you said suddenly as your hips began to spasm hard against his beautiful face. Your hips lifted at the intensity of the pleasure running through you.

“I know. Come for me, darling,” He purred into you. He kept his mouth on you as you rode out your high. You rode his face, spreading your juices all over him.

Sylus smirked at you. His face was covered in your arousal as you slowly released your grip on his hair. A lazy smile appeared on your face as he stood to kiss you, his hand reaching out, cupping your face sweetly. He kissed you slowly, saving this moment with you. The way he pressed against you sent warmth through your veins. 

Reluctantly parting his lips from yours, he lifted you off your ass onto your feet.

“Turn around for me, Kitten,” he commanded you sweetly. And you complied, turning around and facing the large mirror before you in the bathroom. You bent over on the counter, the cold granite causing your nipples to harden against it. You rested on your forearms, making eye contact with Sylus in the mirror. He licked his lips, collecting your remaining arousal on his tongue.

And he held that with you, not daring to look away. He took his cock in his hands, his girth heavy in his hands, and he guided himself to your cunt. Gauging your reaction, he rubbed his cock against your slit, and you squirmed a bit, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm. 

He pushed into you slowly, agonizingly slow. Your eyes were a bit teary as you bit your lip, watching him tease you. You could feel the burn of him stretching you out. It’d been so long since he fucked you. “don’t tease,” you whined, your lips pouting slightly. You turned back, looking at him directly. “I need you,” you said, your body burning with need.

He kissed you roughly, tilting your head a bit to allow him better access to your lips. At the same time, he sheathed himself fully inside you. A desperate moan fell from your lips, and you tilted your head forward, watching him in the mirror. He took on a slow, deep pace at first, dragging his hips back before pounding back into you. 

His hands found your lower back, gripping your flesh, bracing himself as he pounded into you. The intensity of his thrusts caused your body to create friction against the counter. Your breast, your stomach, his hands on your backside. It just felt so good.

He thrust into you repeatedly, and you heard the slap of his heavy erection pounding into you. The slap of his balls hit your clit repeatedly as he kept his rhythm. Breaking his eye contact with you, Sylus's eyes trained on where he was pounding into you. Every time he pulled out, your cunt dragged him back in. Begging for him not to pull away. You kept gripping down on him.

He watched as your juices mixed, the white film appearing around the base of his cock. A sly smile appeared on his lips, sending the desire coursing through his veins. He closed his eyes, focusing on how you felt around him. Your gummy walls sucked him in, asking for him to stay. You kept gripping his cock so well you couldn’t possibly understand what you were doing to him. He could feel every little time you twitched, gripped him, sucked down on him. And the sounds coming from your pretty little mouth were egging him on. Begging him to come in your pretty pussy, and he couldn’t resist much longer. 

You felt yourself involuntarily grip down on Sylus again, and you turned your head to look at him directly, his pretty face, the flush on his cheeks. He was driving you crazy, too. He kept hitting that sensitive spot inside you, his heavy balls slapping your clit over and over. You couldn’t help but grip down on him again. You watched his eyebrows furrow as he slightly opened his eyes to look at yours. His eyes squinted as pleasure began to take over his body. 

“You feel so good,” he gritted out, his flushed face apparent as you looked at him more closely. The sight is so erotic, a moan released from your lips. You could feel your wetness all over him. Your cunt was dripping at the sight before you. 

He began to keel over you. Resting a bit on your back as his thrusts became more sloppy. He laid on top of you completely, “You’ll take my come, won’t you, baby?” he whispered in your ear. 

“Y–yes,” you moaned out. His eyes closed as he rutted into you over and over as his ropes of come filled you. 

Your hands gripped the counter, steadying yourself until his thrusts slowed up a bit. He was losing his pace and becoming sloppy as he finished riding his high.

His breathing was uneven as he rested his weight on your backside. “You’re always so good for me, Kitten,” he said breathlessly.

He pulled out slowly, trying to keep his seed in you before he got on his knees, and your eyebrows hit your hairline in shock.

“Can’t let this escape now, can we?” Sylus said, slight amusement in his voice as he used his fingers to push his release back inside you before he stood up and licked his two fingers clean. He was looking into your eyes using the mirror.

“Sylus!” you exclaimed at the sight. He’d never done that before. It's a true sight to behold.

“We taste so good together, sweetie,” he remarked casually, causing heat to go to your face as you watched him leave the room.

He returned with a soft towel, wetting the cloth in the sink, furthest from you, so as not to re-wet your now dry skin. 

He came back over and wiped your excess shared fluids from your cunt, leaving you slightly damp from the wetness of the towel.

At that, you rolled over, sitting on the counter, before tenderly kissing Sylus on his taut lips. “Thank you,” you whispered to him. He’s always so attentive, you thought. He pressed himself flush against you before wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Let’s lay down now,” he said, picking you up. 

You giggled at that. “Yes, let’s,” you said with a large smile. You missed this.

☆---

I feel like Sylus and Raf are the most fun to write for. Their stories always have so much banter idk. THIS IS NOT ZAYNE SHADE, that's my man fr.

[rafesangelita]

hiii i might’ve sent this in already (you can just ignore this if i have) but i was thinking dealer rafe + sex pollen (like maybe a new drug he’s selling or something) possibly with dubcon?

warnings: dealer!rafe, kinda mean!rafe, reader is a stripper (you could read her lore here), brother’s best friend trope, dubcon (rafe drugs reader without her knowing), implied enemies, slut shaming (?), bratty behavior lol, rafe calls reader a bitch, rafe walks in on reader humping her pillow, manipulation, blackmail, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, dumbification, hair pulling, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, pull out method

a/n: i made a fic not too long ago with rafe on viagra lol, so this one will have the tables turned <3

wc: 3.3k

“are you sure this stuff even works?” rafe looked down at the little pink pill barry placed in his hand. “trust me, it does.” he winked, pulling the neckline of his shirt down to reveal the assortment of hickeys littered across his skin. “my girl nearly ate me up, country club.” rafe sighed through his nostrils. at least one of them was getting laid. rafe had been so busy lately, he felt like he couldn’t catch any downtime. between selling with barry and dealing with his own shit at home, having sex was the last thing on his mind. surprisingly.

“so.. what? we’re supplying this now?” rafe placed the pill in a small bag, his business partner shaking his head. “i’ll tell you what; you could try it out yourself and decide if you want to make a little bit of pocket change off of it.” barry winked. “and who the hell would i give this to?” just then, you walked through the door, your heels clacking with each step. you looked up at rafe and rolled your eyes. “does he not have a home? why does he always have to be here?” you walked past him, your perfume intoxicating rafe more than any drug him and barry had laid out on the table.

“nice to see you too.” rafe watched you walk down the hallway, your hips swaying deliciously in that mini skirt of yours. “watch those eyes.” barry nudged him. clearing his throat awkwardly, rafe pocketed the pills, knowing exactly who he was going to have the pleasure of trying them out on later. “look, i got some money waiting for me on the mainland, i was wondering if you could break all this stuff up and bag everything while i’m gone? i’ll throw you a few hundred if you do.” rafe nodded, not having anything else planned for the rest of the day. “thanks, man. i’ll be back in a few hours.”

with that, barry left, leaving you and rafe alone in his trailer. you had changed out of your outfit and into a pair of sleeping shorts, fuzzy slippers adorning your feet as you pulled a pink crop top over your head. rafe could hear your music playing from your room, the mere presence of you making it impossible for him to focus. “where did barry go?” you walked out, opening the fridge even though you knew it was empty. rafe looked back, swallowing thickly as he eyed your bare legs. “uhm— he said he needed to get some money on the mainland, so it’ll be a while before he comes back..”

you noticed the way rafe’s voice lowered at the last part of his sentence, his suggestive tone making you raise a brow. “oh, really?” you took a seat across from him, leaning forward as he glanced at your chest. he hummed, his leg bouncing as he tried his best to distract himself from the curves of your breasts spilling out of your top. “yeah.” he weighed out some blow before putting it in a small baggie. the only reason why rafe felt on edge around you was because he knew he couldn’t have you. you were aware of this, and in turn you made it really hard for him to resist you.

“so, uhh— how was work last night?” rafe needed to make conversation or he was going to become stuck fantasizing about those pretty nails of yours digging into his skin. “since when do you ask me about my job?” you giggled, twisting open your water bottle before taking a sip. “well i have to form some sort of imagination of the place since barry said it’s off limits and all.” rafe met your eyes momentarily. “so? is barry is your daddy or something?” you watched as rafe’s jaw ticked. he didn’t think hearing the word ‘daddy’ would sound so enticing leaving your mouth til’ now.

“no, but i wonder where yours is.” he shot back in an attempt to put a wall back up. “that makes two of us.” you laughed. rafe shook his head, a hint of a smile on his lips. “seriously though, i think you would like to see me perform..” you scooted closer to him, making rafe draw a sharp breath. barry would kill him if he tried to make any kind of move on you, let alone go to the club where you danced at. “yeah, right. your brother would really have it out for me if i did that.” rafe scoffed. with the way you were looking at him right now, he was starting to think fighting barry would all be worth it.

“what if i invited you? what would he say then?” you were dangerously close to him now, your breath fanning the side of his neck. rafe’s fingertips itched to touch you. just as rafe was about to fall into your trap, you whispered in his ear; “too bad i would never do that, though.” you got up, nudging his shoulder with a laugh. rafe glared at you.“that’s real funny, is that how you trick those poor old men into giving you money down there?” rafe snarked. “no. unlike you, they might get a kiss on the cheek.” you winked, getting your phone from your room.

rafe made sure you were out of sight before he took the pink pills out of his pocket. throwing a couple in your water bottle, rafe shaked it until they fully dissolved. maybe he shouldn’t have done that, but you did have a point in what you said earlier. what if you came onto him, and not the other way around? “how long are you going to be here?” you came back, chugging the water bottle before plopping down on the couch. well, that was easy. “just until i’m done with all of this.” rafe muttered, the sight of your ass peeking out from under your shorts making him wet his bottom lip.

for the longest time, you had always been the forbidden fruit, the one thing he could never have. and he hated it. “well get on with it.” rafe swore you had enough sass for the entire island to have some. ignoring your comment, rafe got back to work, the sound of the tv providing background noise for the two of you. about fifteen minutes passed, and rafe could see you squirming from the corner of his eye. you looked bothered, your thighs rubbing together as rafe fixed his attention on you. “you alright over there?” you sighed, flashing him a look as you crossed one leg over the other.

“m’fine!” you were so sexually frustrated right now, it was like a wave of lust had just washed over you. rafe watched the way your eyes fluttered closed, your chest rising and falling with every breath. “are you sure?” rafe spoke again, and this time the sound of his voice made butterflies swarm your tummy. opening your eyes, you leaned the weight of your head on one hand, inspecting the man who sat not too far away from you. while there was always a tension there between you two, you couldn’t deny just how handsome he was. blue eyes, sharp features that made him look rough, his shoulders..

you shook the thoughts out of your head. leaving the living room with a sigh, you threw yourself on your bed. with each aching minute that passed, you only grew hotter for the man in your living room. you cursed under your breath, making sure the blanket you had hung up in your doorway was blocking all view from the outside before you grabbed your small pillow, tucking it between your legs as you grinded your hips into the soft material. with your shorts and your underwear in the way, it was hard to get any of the friction you needed. “fuck!” you whimpered in frustration.

‘what the fuck is wrong with me?’ you cried, feeling the most neediest and horniest you’ve ever felt in your life.. and that’s saying a lot. you continued rocking your hips on the playboy logo of a pillow, sitting up so you could rut against it shamelessly. your fingers dug into your sheets as your clit barely grazed where you needed it most. a moan slipped from your lips, the sound catching rafe’s attention. he paused all movements, his cock stirring in his pants when he heard another moan, this time followed by a whine. rafe listened to you until he couldn’t sit there any longer.

creeping up to the entryway of your room, rafe swung your makeshift curtain out of the way, revealing the sexiest sight he’s ever seen. there you were, shorts and underwear long forgotten on your bedroom floor as your teeth pulled on your bottom lip. “what the fuck are you doing?” you gasped, your eyes shooting open as you rushed to cover yourself. “what the hell, rafe!” you shrieked, scrambling underneath your bedsheets. “humping a pillow, y/n? how pathetic do you have to be to do that?” you glared at him, your lips parting slightly at the erection in his pants.

“i—” you couldn’t find your words, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. “what would barry think of this if i told him?” rafe stepped closer, “he already thinks you’re a slut for being a stripper, imagine if i told him you were humping your pillow like a dumb bunny while i was just in the next room? he’d hate you.” your heart dropped at his words, panic settling in the pit of your gut. “no, please, don’t tell him!” you sat up, tears pricking your eyes as rafe took a seat at the edge of your bed. “i don’t know what’s happening to me, okay? i’ve never felt like this before!” you cried out.

“what do you mean?” rafe acted coy, as if he didn’t just drug you with enough horny pills to keep you soaked and needy for days. “i’m just— ugh, you’re the last person i should be explaining this to!” you rested your head in your hands, the wetness between your thighs making you shift uncomfortably. “tell me,” rafe urged, “or you’ll be stuck explaining this to your brother..” he shook his head, resting a hand on your blanket-clad thigh. the weight of rafe’s hand made a shiver run down your spine. “okay, okay..” you sighed, finally meeting his eyes. “one minute i was fine, and then the next.. i’m like this.”

rafe watched the way you shrunk in on yourself, your eyebrows etched in embarrassment. the way you were acting right now was such a stark contrast to your usual bitchy attitude. “like what?” rafe pushed forward, wanting, begging you to confide in him to help you out with your little problem. your lips parted, your gaze shooting down to the adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. oh, how bad you wanted to kiss it. “like..” your voice was barely above a whisper as rafe slowly pulled the covers off of you, “like i need to be fucked.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together, your words making his cock twitch.

“sucks to be you.” rafe stood up, about to leave your room before you stopped him. “wait!” you cried out, “where are you going?” you crawled to the edge of your bed, fisting the back of his shirt. rafe smiled to himself, internally singing before he turned around to see you on your knees, your eyes wide and needy as you gazed up at him. “what? i’m leaving.” rafe pulled away, in which you shook your head. he was having way too much fun right now. “no!” you pulled him down, “please stay..” you looked down at his lips, running your nails across the back of his neck. “help me, help you.”

rafe leaned in first, taking your lips with his own as you moaned against his mouth. “you’re gonna help me, alright.” he pulled you on top of his lap, your thighs settling on either side of his waist as he fought to take off your baby tee. lifting your arms up, rafe groaned when your tits fell softly out of your top. tossing the garment aside, you let out a moan when rafe attached his desperate mouth to your sensitive bud, his tongue circling your nipple as you held him close to your chest. you moaned with every stroke of his hands against your skin, your hips grinding on his erection.

“holy, fuck!” rafe pulled away for a moment, looking down between the two of you where you grinded on his shorts. you were so wet, you left a wet patch where you rutted against him. leaning back on his hands, rafe watched as you used him to get yourself off, your glossy cunt sparkling underneath the light of the setting sun filtering through your blinds. you were so pretty like this, rafe felt like he could cum from looking at your pleasure filled face alone. “does that feel good?” rafe groaned when you picked up your pace, his length just throbbing to get out of the confines of his underwear.

“mm, fuck— yes, rafe!” you kept moving until your hips stuttered, your first orgasm hitting you pathetically as you whimpered and whined for something more. still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you got down on shaky legs, not wasting any time in getting rafe’s shorts off. you were so desperate for his cock, rafe smirked when he saw the way your eyes widened when his length sprung up against his stomach. just as you reached for what you needed most, rafe stopped you by grabbing your hand. “nah, you don’t get it that easy,” he shook his head, “lay down.”

those were his last words before he had you laying flat on your bed, your head hanging off the edge as he fucked your throat mercilessly. “thought you were just gonna get what you wanted, huh? fuck no.” he said through gritted teeth. tears were streaming down your face, the noises bouncing off of the walls right now were nothing short of obscene. “always walking around here acting like a spoiled brat, fuck you.” rafe spat, the tip of your nose hitting his pubic bone. he held your hands in his, not allowing you to have any leverage as he fucked your face.

your tongue was dancing around his cock, the sensation bringing him closer to that glorious edge. “o-oh, fuck..” rafe sucked in a breath, stilling as you swallowed around his tip. pulling out to give you some air, you managed to gasp before he slid back in, a mixture of spit and precum connecting you two together. “m’gonna fuck this pretty little mouth of yours until you choke..” his hand snaked down to the apex of your thighs where he gave your soaked folds a harsh slap. you squealed at the stinging sensation, his cock continuously hitting the back of your throat.

sure enough, you gagged around him, his hot cum painting your tongue. rafe doubled over with a hiss, his mouth falling open as you took every last drop. “that’s perfect. yeah, fuckin’ take it.” rafe slapped your cunt once more, eliciting a whine from your lips as he pulled away. you were breathless, your wrists burning from the unforgiving grip rafe had on them. in one swift movement, rafe flipped you onto your back, using his large hands to pin your thighs to your mattress. “beg for it, you fucking slut.” rafe teased your entrance with his glistening tip, your eyebrows knitting together at his cruel ministrations.

“please! i need you so bad, ray!” fuck, you were a mess right now. with your lipgloss smeared all over your chin, those tear stained cheeks, and disheveled hair.. rafe couldn’t help but admire the sight. everything rafe wanted was so close, yet so far, he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. who knew when you would be so needy and pliant for him like this again? “really? i don’t think so.” he quipped. letting out a shaky breath, you reached down between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance before sliding him in with a pierced gasp.

rafe’s eyes screwed shut, his hips moving on their own accord as he finally gave in to you. the man on top of you was in a daze. you were so warm, and so wet, he didn’t know how he was going to pull through with the way you were sucking him in with every thrust. “fuck.” he leaned down, taking your lips with his own. he tasted so good on your tongue, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he fucked into you. his pace was brutal, his toned stomach smacking against your clit as you moaned in his ear. “oh, my god!” you couldn’t help your nails from raking down his back.

“look at you..” he pulled away, grabbing a fistful of your hair so you can meet his eyes. “you’re just a bimbo whore with tits for brains, you know that?” you whimpered at his words, the degrading statement only making you clench around him tighter. rafe groaned, he should’ve known you’d be into that shit. unpinning your thighs from your bed, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he caged you between his arms, his biceps on either side of your face. he was a lot closer like this, the intimacy of it making your heart flutter in your chest. “i always thought you were h-hot.” you managed to mewl.

“yeah?” he inserted a thumb between your lips, your tongue circling around his finger. “mhmm— yes!” rafe watched with dark eyes as you started sucking on the digit. “why the fuck didn’t you said anything then? we could’ve done this a lot sooner, baby.” he tsked. pulling his hand away from your mouth, he replaced his thumb with his lips, swallowing all of your pretty sounds. cupping his face, you pulled away with a bated breath, your orgasm beginning to simmer in your core. “rafe?” your face morphed into one of full blown pleasure, your eyebrows knitting together as rafe stared you down.

“you’re close?” he could tell by the way your thighs trembled at his sides that you were about to hit your peak. you nodded weakly, your eyes meeting his as he watched you come undone beneath him. you paused, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your lips parted in a silent moan. rafe knew as soon as you were able to get a breath out you were going to be in hysterics. sure enough, you gasped, a sob ripping from your throat as your body shook. from your head to your toes, you were buzzing in pure bliss. rafe stroked your face, bringing you down from your high with whispers of praise.

“so fuckin’ pretty.”

“shhh, i’m right here.”

you embraced him once more, pressing a kiss to his neck before he pulled out, using a hand to fist his length until he spilled onto your folds. you pouted, your teary eyes gazing up at him through your eyelashes. “why didn’t you stay inside?” you whined, the man on top of you breathing heavily. “w-what?” he panted, his cock twitching with sensitivity. “i wanted you to cum inside me, why did you pull out?” rafe did a double take at your words, his mind reeling with ideas of filling you up. “you’d be okay with that?” a hint of a smile played on his lips when you hummed in agreement. “wanna go again?”

you two were so busy building up foreplay, that neither of you heard the front door open. “i forgot my stupid wallet!” barry shouted. you moaned, your hips chasing rafe’s hand as he buried his fingers in your cunt. “did you hear that?” rafe froze, looking at the doorway of your room. “it’s nothing, i left the tv on, remember!” you turned his attention back on you, both of you laughing against each other’s skin. “y/n, have you seen my—” you and rafe jumped when barry barged in, a scream escaping you as you scrambled to cover yourself.

“i’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, country club!”

[d3stinyist1red]

out of everyone on yandere town, yan cowboy is definitely my favourite <3

YESSS IKR HES SO CUTESYY

yan cowboy who wants you to ride him badly

yan cowboy who first meets you when you stumble upon his farm, literally the cows were gonna jump ur ass until he popped up

"hey there, sweets! What'cha doin' around here?" He asks, looking at you with a tilted head as he pat the cow's head. "U-uh, sorry i just-" you got interrupted by the cowboy laughing at ya.

"ma, why do you seem so nervous? It's alright!" He said grinning down at you, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and introduces himself.

yan cowboy who is now ur buddy, talking to you every second of his fucking day like damn lil bro chill

yan cowboy who you began seeing everyday, coincidences piling up. No matter where you went, he was there, lingering just at the edge of your vision.

yan cowboy who wants you to ride with him and his horse everyday, holding onto your waist as he leads the horse on where to go, your back to his front, slowly rubbing himself against you.

yan cowboy who is a possessive and jealous freak. Any interaction you have with others, specifically other men, makes his jaw clench and his eyes narrow. He might not say anything at first, but you’ll notice how quiet he has gotten.

yan cowboy who confronts you about the man you were hanging out with earliar

"Hey darlin', what was that man tellin' you? Why were you talkin' to him? Do you think hes better than me? Sweets, im sorry. Darlin' lets talk about this, okay?"

"boy i literally just asked him wheres the nearest wingstop"

"why? are you hungry? Because I have some meat for you could eat-"

yan cowboy who makes you the center of his world, if you dont talk to him hes GONNA AND WILL have a bad day, grumpy and pissed off until you talk to him

yan cowboy who has a garden his mother owns, and always gives you flowers, your favorite ones

yan cowboy who literally every woman wants bc hes fine asf, strong, and BRO HES SWEET TOO LIKE HELLO??? but he only needs you. Whenever hes talking with another woman, he always drifts his eyes away from her to try to find you, not paying attention to whatever the woman was saying

yan cowboy who literallys gets so hard whenever he sees you bend down to get some strawberries you planted, already knowing he was gonna fist himself inside his car

yan cowboy who always gives you handwritten notes

"hello n/n! I might not be able to see you today because of my mother telling me ive been slacking off since ive been leaving early from farming. But darling, you know I can't stay away from you for so long! I need to see you! Anyway baby, I left you some cash, treat yourself, aight babes? - Your lovely cowboy <3"

yan cowboy who sees you growing some plants in the hot sun and immediatly panics, he runs over to you with an umbrella. A UMBRELLA BRO

"darlin'! Its so hot out here for you to be outside! Come inside, love!"

"bro ive only been outside for 3 minutes"

"3 minutes too long! Now cmon and rest! Ill do the work, lovely!"

yan cowboy who helps you when you barely started growing plants and stuff, guiding you with his hands ontop of yours, his chin on your shoulder.

yan cowboy who sees you carrying a heavy bale of hay, and immediately scolds you

You wipe the sweat from your brow as you lift the bale of hay, determined to carry your weight on the farm. Your cowboy always helps you with everything like bro i could be independent too hoe. You’ve seen him do this like a thousand times, and you’re confident you can handle it too bc ur a bad bitch period

But before you can take more than a few steps, a shadow falls over you, and you feel a firm hand on your arm. You glance up, and lowkey you were scared it was gonna be schoolboy69 lowkey but nah their infront of you was your cowboy, eyes narrowed in a mix of worry and frustration. He was practically glaring at you, mad that you picked up something without his help, even if you picked up something as heavy as a bag of cookies he would be mad and see red like alpha dawg sigma 4000

“What do you think you’re doin’, darlin’?” His voice is low, but you still heard the irritation in his voice.

“I’m just helping out,” you say, trying to brush it off as no big deal. “It’s just a bale of hay, I'll can handle it.” You said shrugging, about to walk past him until you felt the heavy hay get off your shoulders in a quick manner.

that lil bitch took the hay and walked away but not before blowing u a kiss and saying "i love u n/n, get ready for tonight bc imma need u to blow my back OUT-"

yan cowboy who always is complimenting you, doesnt even matter if your in ur christmas pjs from 2016 he will say "id lowkey eat you out in that"

yan cowboy who is ur obsessed boy who luvs you more than he should<3

yan cowboy who is ur such cowboy who couldnt be more lucky to have you with him! <333

GUYS IM BACK FROM THE DEAD BITCHESSS

GUYS YALL COULD SEND REQUESTS BUT ITS GONNA TAKE A LITTLE BIT BC IM STILL WORKING ON OTHER DRAFTS LIKE THESE

GUYS WHO HAS YAN WINDERBREAKER MANHWA BOOKS PLS I NEED JAY JO AND OWEN

[reidmarieprentiss]

Could you perhaps write something? It’s the readers birthday and Reid waits all day to see if she brings it up, but they never do. So he shows up at her apartment with a gift for her and tells her he’ll always remember her birthday, even if she doesn’t tell anyone when it is. And then a little smut occurs. 😱

Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, forgotten birthday

Word count: 7.9k

a/n: this is such a great idea i'm so sorry it took me forever to get around to writing it !! it's probably way smuttier than you thought lolol i was in a smut slump but we're back !

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving) protected PinV

The day unfolds like any other, with the usual rush of paperwork, coffee runs, and the occasional moment of laughter echoing through the bullpen. You stay focused on your work, avoiding any unnecessary interactions that might draw attention to yourself. After all, it’s your birthday, but you’ve chosen to keep that to yourself. It feels strange, withholding such personal information, but in a high-stakes environment like this, there’s a part of you that prefers to blend into the background. Birthdays aren't meant to be a spectacle here. 

You glance around the room, noticing the typical energy coursing through the space, unaware that a pair of eyes have been subtly watching you all morning. Spencer Reid, as meticulous with people as he is with facts, has always been someone who notices the little things others tend to miss. Today, it’s your silence, the absence of a celebratory card, or a slice of cake that catches his attention. He’s well aware of what today means, not because you told him, but because he knows. Just like he knows the birthdays of every other team member, except yours is different—yours matters more to him. 

Spencer taps his pen against his notebook, his gaze drifting toward you. He debates internally whether to say anything, to let you know he’s aware. He’s read enough about social norms to understand that birthdays often come with expectations—balloons, cake, a few awkwardly sung lines of "Happy Birthday"—but that’s not your style. He’s noticed how you avoid the spotlight, how you prefer quiet moments over public celebrations. Still, he wonders if there’s something you’re hoping for today.

Penelope, typically the beacon of all things celebratory, hasn’t said anything either. But Spencer figures you’ve kept it quiet on purpose. He knows Penelope would have plastered the office with decorations had she been aware, and since the office remains as normal as ever, Spencer figures you’re not in the mood for that kind of attention.

He watches you, waiting for a sign—a smile, a quick glance his way, anything that might suggest you’d appreciate a private acknowledgment. When nothing comes, he respects your decision, but there’s a gnawing feeling inside him. Birthdays are supposed to be special, and even though you’ve chosen not to celebrate, he can’t just let it pass without doing something. Not for you.

The day comes to an end, and not a single word has been spoken about your birthday. You’ve kept it quiet, of course, but still, the silence lingers a bit more than you expected. Not from anyone else, and not from you. Spencer has watched the day unfold in his quiet, observant way, and though he knows you’re not one for grand gestures, he can’t let this pass unnoticed. 

After leaving the office, Spencer’s mind is already set on what he needs to do. He stops by your favorite restaurant, carefully picking up dinner. You never told him your favorite spot, but he’s always been the kind of person who pays attention to the little things—especially when it comes to you. He takes pride in knowing these details, even if he’s never made a show of it.

From there, he heads to a local bakery, the door chiming just as the frustrated baker is about to close. Spencer, out of breath and apologetic, manages to convince the baker to stay open just long enough to get a small cake with your name written on it. The generous tip helps, but more than anything, it’s the desperation in Spencer’s voice that softens the baker’s resolve. 

Now, standing outside your front door with his arms full—dinner in one hand, cake in the other—he uses his elbow to press the doorbell, feeling a flicker of nervousness that’s unusual for him. He never shows up unannounced like this, but he knows this is different. This matters.

Inside, you’re curled up on the couch, completely absorbed in the book your parents sent you as a gift. It’s one you’ve been dying to read for months, and it’s been the perfect way to end your quiet day. The unexpected ring of the doorbell pulls you from your peaceful moment, your brow furrowing slightly as you set the book down. 

You tiptoe toward the door, glancing out the sheer blinds to see who it could possibly be at this hour. When you spot Spencer standing there, your heart skips a beat. You quickly open the door, a confused grin tugging at your lips.

"Reid?" you ask, your voice light but puzzled. "What are you doing here?"

He shifts awkwardly, his arms still burdened with dinner and the cake, and there’s a sheepishness in his expression that’s both endearing and unexpected. 

"Happy birthday," he says, though it comes out more like a question, his uncertainty evident.

Your heart swells at the sight of him, the surprise of his gesture hitting you all at once. You glance at the dinner in one hand, the cake in the other, and something warm blooms in your chest.

"Thank you," you say, your voice soft as you open the door wider. "Come in, please."

Spencer followed you into the kitchen, his eyes subtly taking in the details of your small, cozy home. It occurred to you that this was the first time he had ever been inside, and that realization only added to the strange, fluttery feeling that had been building inside you since he showed up at your door.

He set the bags down on the counter, the quiet clinking of takeout containers filling the brief silence between you. 

“How, um... how did you know it was my birthday?” you asked softly, a hint of shyness in your voice. 

Spencer didn’t look up immediately, making himself busy with the food, carefully unpacking it as though it were an everyday task. “I would never forget your birthday, Y/N,” he replied, his voice so matter-of-fact yet warm. 

His words struck something deep inside you, and your heart swelled all over again, the warmth spreading through your chest and into your limbs. “Reid... that's so sweet,” you murmured, barely able to contain the emotion in your voice.

He smiled over his shoulder at you, that soft, almost boyish grin that made everything feel lighter. “I hope this is okay,” he said, turning around to show you what he had brought. “I guessed you’d like this.”

You blinked, staring at the familiar containers in his hands, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t just any takeout—it was your favorite order from your absolute favorite restaurant. Your mind struggled to process how he could have known, and your body felt like it was on the verge of exploding with a tidal wave of affection and gratitude.

“H–how?” you stammered, unable to get out anything more coherent as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.

Spencer shrugged in that sweet, almost bashful way he did sometimes, his eyes meeting yours as he simply said, “I pay attention.”

Those three words hit you harder than anything else he could’ve said. It wasn’t just the dinner, or the cake, or even the fact that he’d remembered your birthday without you saying a word—it was that he saw you, truly noticed you, in ways you didn’t think anyone ever did.

Without thinking, you stepped closer, your eyes soft and full of everything you couldn’t put into words. “Reid, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you whispered, but there was no mistaking the happiness in your tone.

He smiled gently, placing the food down on the counter. “I know,” he said, his voice soft, “but I wanted to.”

And just like that, your quiet birthday became something more than you ever could have expected—because of him.

As the two of you settled into an easy rhythm of conversation over dinner, it felt surprisingly natural—despite the unexpectedness of the evening. You sat across from each other at your small kitchen table, the soft clinking of forks against takeout containers punctuating the space between your words. Spencer, usually so reserved and careful, seemed more relaxed, as if the intimacy of the moment had broken down some of his usual barriers.

“You know,” Spencer began between bites, “this restaurant has one of the highest customer satisfaction ratings in the area. I didn’t just pick it at random—I wanted to make sure it was perfect.” He looked up at you, his eyes bright with sincerity.

You smiled, taking in how thoughtful he had been without even realizing how much it meant to you. "I can’t believe you went to so much trouble for this. I really don’t expect anything big for my birthday."

Spencer shrugged, his expression so genuine it made your heart ache just a little. "Well, it’s not just any day. It’s your day. And you deserve to feel special."

His words landed gently, but with a depth that made your pulse quicken. You had always seen Spencer as more than a colleague, but you’d never really considered him in a romantic light. The way he was speaking tonight, though, made you notice things about him you hadn’t before.

“You’re really thoughtful, Reid,” you said, picking at your food, your voice soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone remember the little things like you do.”

He glanced at you with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up slightly. “I like to notice the important things. People tend to overlook those details, but they matter.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and you suddenly realized how much attention he must’ve been paying all this time. Spencer was always observant—he was a profiler, after all—but this was different. He was talking about you, not in a way that made you feel studied, but in a way that made you feel seen.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that,” you replied, your voice light, though your heart felt anything but. “Most people don’t pay that much attention.”

Spencer looked at you intently then, his gaze soft but unwavering. “It’s hard not to pay attention to you.”

The statement was simple, but the way he said it felt like something more. You felt your cheeks warm, caught off guard by the realization that Spencer Reid might see you in a way you hadn’t seen yourself.

“Reid, I—” you started, but he interrupted, not even realizing the shift in the conversation.

“And you’re always so organized with your case files,” he continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “I appreciate that about you. You make my job easier, and honestly, it’s hard not to enjoy working with you.”

You laughed softly, feeling flustered but trying to keep it light. “You make me sound like I’m perfect or something.”

He tilted his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’ve always thought you were... well, pretty amazing.”

“I... I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly, playing with your fork to avoid looking directly at him.

Spencer, seemingly oblivious to the weight of his own words, shrugged again. “I'm not always good at saying what I’m thinking, but you’ve always stood out to me. I guess it’s just… obvious to me.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for the first time, you found yourself really considering Spencer Reid in a different light. Sure, he was brilliant, kind, and more attractive than you’d ever let yourself dwell on—but you had never imagined he might see you that way.

You felt... average. Just you. How could someone like Spencer, with his genius mind and thoughtful nature, possibly see you as anything more than a friend or colleague?

As you looked across the table at him, his expression soft and open, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had been wrong about where you stood with him.

After the plates were cleared, you and Spencer sat side by side, laughing as you decided to abandon any pretense of formality and dig into the cake with forks. It was just the two of you, after all, and the evening had become too comfortable for anything else. Every bite seemed to add to the warmth between you, and even though neither of you had touched a drop of alcohol, it felt like you were both intoxicated—drunk on the unexpected affection and connection between you.

You noticed Spencer watching you with an intensity that was both thrilling and unsettling. His gaze felt heavier than usual, more present, more... intentional. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little self-conscious under his watchful eyes. “What?” you asked, your voice light but breathless as your lips curled into a small, uncertain smile.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, a sound so gentle it sent warmth coursing through you. He shifted closer, his hand lifting, and before you could process what was happening, his palm was cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed across your lips tenderly, lingering there. 

“You have...” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours, “some frosting.”

His touch was electric, sending a shiver through you, though you were frozen in place. Your lips parted slightly in surprise, but you couldn’t move. Spencer's thumb continued to gently trace the curve of your bottom lip, the moment stretching between you, thick with something you hadn’t realized was there until now.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “Y/N… I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”

His words, soft and tentative, sent your pulse racing, and you barely registered the nod you gave in response. But that was all he needed. Spencer's gaze flicked down to your lips, and he closed the remaining distance slowly, as if giving you every chance to stop him, though you knew you wouldn’t.

His lips met yours gently, a hesitant kiss that was soft, warm, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. The world seemed to fall away for a moment, leaving just the two of you, locked in something fragile and sweet.

Spencer’s hand stayed cradling your face as he deepened the kiss just slightly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his forehead rested gently against yours, and his eyes were still closed as if he were savoring the moment.

“Was that okay?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion, still holding onto the last traces of your kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands instinctively finding their way to his chest. “Mhm, very okay,” you whispered, smiling softly as your heart raced in your chest.

Spencer opened his eyes slowly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The room felt heavier with meaning now, but it was the kind of weight you welcomed, a sense that things had shifted between you in the best possible way.

“Can I do it again?” Spencer asked, his voice playful, his lips pulling into a silly grin that made your heart flip. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, your cheeks warming as you nodded once more. This time, though, you didn’t wait for him to make the first move. You leaned up toward him, your hands sliding from his chest to the back of his neck, your fingers gently threading through the soft strands of his hair.

Spencer’s hands moved from where they had been resting on your face, sliding down to your waist as he pulled you in closer, your bodies now pressed together with a new, delicious kind of tension. He let out a soft, happy hum, the sound vibrating through you, making you feel like your entire body was alight with warmth. 

When you felt his tongue gently part your lips, exploring your mouth with such tender care, you couldn’t help the soft, sweet moan that escaped you. The sound seemed to stir something in Spencer, and you felt his fingers tighten on your waist just as a low, deep groan rumbled from his chest.

Encouraged by his reaction, you tangled your fingers further into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The world outside this moment seemed to fade even more, leaving just the feeling of Spencer against you, the intoxicating heat between your bodies, and the soft sounds of contentment that passed between you both.

Each kiss was deeper than the last, each touch more deliberate, as if you were both slowly learning a new language made of gentle caresses and lingering glances. Spencer’s lips were soft and insistent against yours, but always so tender, as if he was savoring each moment, never wanting to rush. The feeling of his body pressed so intimately against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go, made your pulse race.

Spencer pulled back ever so slowly, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You let out a soft whine, your body instinctively leaning forward, both at the loss of his lips and the delicious pull of his teeth. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the air between you thick with unspoken feelings.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice soft and almost breathless, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Your heart skipped at his words, and you tilted your head slightly, curiosity getting the better of you. "How long?" you asked, your voice just as quiet, as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy between you.

Spencer laughed, the sound low and almost bashful. "Two years and three months," he said with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin.

You paused for a moment, realizing how specific that time frame was. Then it hit you. "That's... that's when I started at the BAU," you said slowly, your mind racing to piece it together.

He nodded, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between. "Since the first day I saw you, I knew you were special."

His words hung in the air, and something inside you shifted. You could feel the weight of his confession settle in your chest, and it only made the moment feel more intense, more real. Spencer had been feeling this way for so long, waiting patiently, watching from the sidelines, all without you ever knowing.

That’s when you made your decision.

"Take me to the bedroom, Reid," you said, your voice steady but filled with anticipation.

Spencer pulled back instantly, his eyes wide in surprise, his expression almost comically stunned. "What?"

You held his gaze, your hand gently brushing his cheek as you repeated, more softly this time, "The bedroom, please?" You threw in your best puppy dog eyes, knowing it would be hard for him to say no.

For a moment, Spencer was frozen, his mind clearly racing to catch up with the reality of what was happening. "Okay—yeah, yeah," he stammered, still in shock but unable to hide the excitement building in his voice.

He stood back quickly, offering his hand to you with a mix of eagerness and hesitation. You took it, letting him pull you gently from the kitchen, the warmth of his palm against yours sparking something deep inside you. As he led you down the hallway toward the bedroom, your heart raced, the anticipation growing with every step. 

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind you, your hands were already tugging at Spencer’s sweater vest, pulling it over his head with eager fingers. His usually neat hair was left a little wild and messy, and you couldn't help but giggle softly at the sight. He grinned back at you, shaking his head like a dog trying to shake off water, making you laugh even harder.

"You're ridiculous," you teased, but your words were laced with affection.

Spencer just smiled wider, his eyes filled with mischief and desire. Without missing a beat, his hands found the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up as you raised your arms in surrender, allowing him to undress you with deliberate care. The fabric slipped over your head, and as soon as it was discarded to the floor, you could feel his gaze roaming over your body.

His eyes lingered on your chest, clearly noticing the absence of a bra, and the way his breath caught sent a shiver through you. There was something so intense, so reverent in the way he looked at you that it made your skin tingle. His hands found their way to your breasts, his touch gentle yet filled with hunger, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Without another word, Spencer dipped his head back down, capturing your lips in another kiss that left you breathless. This time, it was deeper, more urgent, as if all the emotions he'd been holding back for years were pouring into this moment. His thumbs rubbed at your nipples as he kissed you, and you could feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own as you whined softly into his mouth.

Your hands found their way to his hair again, tangling in the soft strands as you pressed your body closer to his, craving more of him, more of the way his lips moved against yours, more of the way his hands explored you.

The moment you felt the unmistakable press of Spencer’s arousal against you, your instincts took over. Your hands trailed down, quickly working at the waistband of his pants, eager to feel more of him. Spencer’s fingers left your body only long enough to undo the buttons of his shirt, your breaths becoming heavier as the distance between you both shrank even more.

Soon, he was down to just his briefs, his skin warm against yours, and for a second, you thought he was about to pull you into another kiss. But instead, he surprised you by crouching down in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. You looked down at him with curiosity and amusement, tilting your head.

“What are you doing down there?” you asked, laughing softly, though your heart was racing.

Spencer looked up at you, and the look in his eyes sent a rush of warmth through your body. There was something almost reverent about the way he gazed at you, like you were the most precious thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “I have wanted this for so, so long,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to savor every little bit of you.”

His words made you flush with heat, the intensity of his desire crashing over you like a wave. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and before you could say anything in response, Spencer's hands were moving again, removing the last pieces of your clothing as he kissed the newly exposed skin. 

And then, you were standing completely bare before him, your most intimate parts now level with his face. The vulnerability of the moment, combined with the raw hunger in Spencer’s eyes, made you feel dizzy, but you couldn’t look away.

It seemed like this was exactly what he had wanted all along. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin before his tongue traced a sure stripe through your slick folds. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, your knees almost buckling from the sheer intensity of it.

A gasp escaped your lips as Spencer continued, his mouth working with a determination that made it clear this was something he had imagined countless times before. His hands gripped your thighs, steadying you as he continued his ministrations, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes designed to unravel you from the inside out.

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair once again as he savored you, just like he said he would.

"You taste better than I imagined," Spencer murmured between breaths, his voice thick with desire before he dove back in, his mouth moving over every inch of you, leaving no part untouched. His tongue was thorough, his lips relentless, and each movement made it harder for you to hold on to any coherent thoughts.

Your grip on his hair tightened as a desperate whimper escaped your lips. "You—ungh—you imagined this?" you managed to gasp out between moans, your voice shaky and breathless.

Spencer hummed against you in response, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his mouth latching onto your clit with more intensity, suctioning his lips tightly before shaking his head back and forth, creating a sensation so intense it made you scream out, your body trembling with the force of it.

The sound that left you was raw, completely involuntary, as waves of pleasure rolled through you, Spencer's hands gripping your thighs tighter to hold you steady as you lost yourself in the moment. He was relentless, devouring you with an eagerness that matched his earlier words. It was clear he had thought about this—dreamed about this—and now, with you here in front of him, he wasn’t going to waste a single second.

"Reid..." you moaned, your voice breaking as your entire body responded to his touch, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Each movement of his tongue, each gentle bite or hum, pushed you closer and closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on tight, letting him take you wherever he wanted you to go.

But then, just as you were teetering on the edge, Spencer pulled back, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The sudden absence of his touch made your body tremble, a desperate whine escaping your lips. When you looked down, confused and still dazed with pleasure, you noticed the almost stern look in his eyes, his lips glistening as he gazed up at you.

"Spencer," he said, his voice low, full of intent.

Your brow furrowed slightly, your mind hazy from the high you had been riding. "What?" you managed to ask, your voice breathless and needy.

His eyes softened, but his expression remained firm. "Call me Spencer," he repeated, his tone a mixture of command and affection, as if this small detail mattered more than anything in that moment.

Before you could fully process it, he leaned back in, parting you gently with his thumbs to give himself even more access. The feeling was overwhelming, your body trembling as he resumed his ministrations with renewed intensity, his tongue and mouth working in tandem, more precise and focused than before.

The need in you swelled again, even stronger than before, and this time, you couldn’t hold back the moans that spilled from your lips. "Spencer," you gasped, his name escaping your lips like a prayer, your body arching into him as he pushed you further and further toward the edge.

Hearing his name on your lips seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more deliberate as he devoured you with every ounce of the hunger he had been holding back. You were completely at his mercy, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel as he brought you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure, his name falling from your lips again and again.

Spencer could sense how close you were, your breath hitching and your body trembling beneath his touch. He doubled his efforts, his tongue moving with precision and urgency, his fingers pressing against your thighs to keep you steady. The need to see you completely unravel, to give you that release, spurred him on as he focused entirely on you.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, and then, finally, the tension that had been building in your core snapped. You tilted your head back, your body arching as the overwhelming pleasure took over. With a loud, uncontrolled moan, your hands found Spencer’s hair, gripping it tightly, tugging hard as you released, your body shuddering and your mind reeling from the intensity of it all.

Spencer didn’t stop, his mouth never leaving you as he worked you through your climax, swallowing everything you offered him. The feel of your fingers gripping his hair, the way your body shook as you released in his mouth—it was everything he’d dreamed of, and more. Only when your body began to calm, your breath evening out, did he slowly pull back, his lips brushing against your skin one last time, savoring the moment.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of satisfaction as you slowly came back to reality. You were still breathless, your body weak from the intensity of your orgasm, but the way Spencer looked at you, filled with awe and admiration, made you feel like you were floating.

"That," he murmured softly, "was everything."

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, still floating in the afterglow, your head in the clouds, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure. Spencer slowly rose from his knees, his hands gently skimming your skin as he stood to his full height, a soft, amused smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“You with me, beautiful?” he asked, his voice full of warmth and amusement as he stroked your hair, fingers threading through the strands tenderly.

You blinked up at him, your eyes still hazy with satisfaction, but your smile was soft and content. “I’m with you,” you replied, voice breathy but sincere, your whole body feeling like it was made of light.

Spencer chuckled, the sound affectionate and full of something deeper. “Good, good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Do you want to keep going?”

A slow smile spread across your lips, and the way you said, “Please, Spencer,” made his heart race with excitement and affection.

Spencer grinned, the playful glint in his eyes returning as he gently guided you down onto the pillows, his hands firm but tender. He leaned over you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Anything for the birthday girl.”

With that, Spencer lowered himself over you, his body pressing against yours with a sweet, delicious heat. You could feel the warmth of him, the anticipation growing as his lips found yours once again, slow and lingering, savoring every second. His hands explored your body as though he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of your skin, and the way he touched you made your heart race all over again.

This wasn’t just about physical pleasure anymore—it was about something deeper, something that had been quietly building between you both for much longer than either of you had realized.

"Can you..." you started, but then hesitated, suddenly feeling a wave of shyness crash over you. This was Reid, after all, your colleague and friend, someone you'd see at work tomorrow. The reality of that hit you, and it made your heart race for an entirely different reason now.

Spencer, noticing the shift in your demeanor, raised an eyebrow, his voice soft and reassuring. "Can I what, darling?" he asked, a small, amused smile on his lips as he looked down at you.

You shook your head, trying to brush it off, but Spencer’s expression quickly shifted to concern. His hands, which had been tracing gentle patterns on your skin, paused, and his voice became softer, more serious. "Y/N... are you okay?"

You let out a quiet sigh, nodding, but there was still a lingering tension in your chest. "Just... is this going to be weird tomorrow?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment, the emotions wrapped up in everything that had just happened—it suddenly felt fragile when faced with the idea of seeing him at the office the next day, going back to the usual routine like nothing had changed.

Spencer's face softened even more, and he tilted his head, his eyes searching yours. "Weird?" he repeated, his voice thoughtful, as if he was carefully considering your words. He shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. "No, Y/N, this doesn’t have to be weird."

You blinked up at him, your heart settling slightly at his calm demeanor. He continued, his voice gentle but certain. "We can take it one day at a time, okay? But if you're worried about work, nothing between us will change unless you want it to. I care about you too much to let this ruin anything.”

"If anything, this makes everything better," Spencer continued softly, his eyes full of sincerity as his hand stayed gently on your cheek. "I’ve wanted to be close to you for so long. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up or make you feel uncomfortable. We can handle this however you want—slow, steady, or even just keeping it between us for now."

His words soothed the unease that had started to form, the tenderness in his tone making it clear that he wasn’t rushing anything, wasn’t trying to push for something more than what you were ready for. Spencer, as always, was careful, deliberate, and understanding. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel safe, even in this new, uncertain territory.

You took a deep breath, feeling some of the weight lift from your chest. "I just… I don’t want this to change things in a bad way," you admitted, your fingers lightly brushing over his arm as he hovered over you, your bodies still close but the air between you calmer now.

Spencer shook his head, his smile warm and full of affection. "It won’t. I promise. I’ll still be me, you’ll still be you. And we’ll figure out whatever this is together, one step at a time. You don’t have to worry about work or anything else right now. Just... be here with me tonight."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you, his words grounding you in the moment. The fear of what tomorrow might bring began to fade as you looked up at him, trusting that Spencer, with all his care and thoughtfulness, would never let this turn into something that would hurt either of you.

"Okay," you whispered, offering him a small smile. "I’m here with you."

Spencer’s face lit up with a soft, almost shy grin as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hands once again finding their way to your waist, holding you close as if reassuring you through his touch.

“Good,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

With that, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Spencer guided you back onto the pillows, his movements slow and deliberate as he kissed you again, this time with more ease and tenderness, making it clear that whatever happened next would be on your terms, whenever you were ready.

Spencer groaned deeply into your mouth as you pushed his briefs down, your hand wrapping around him, stroking him with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch. You guided him into position, your need for him clear in the way your body responded. His lips never left yours, but his breath grew more ragged as the tension between you mounted.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his voice thick with restraint.

You whimpered in response, the feeling of him grinding against you, the tip of his cock hitting your clit, making it impossible to think of anything else. “Please, Spencer,” you begged, your voice trembling with need. “I want you so badly. Please.”

He let out a strained groan, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as your words washed over him. "Okay, okay," he whispered, trying to soothe you even though he was losing his own control. "Shh, you never have to beg me for anything, ever."

Your body writhed beneath him, desperate for more, for him, and you shifted your hips instinctively, trying to coax him to push inside. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and your need for him was palpable in every shaky breath you took.

Spencer, however, managed to hold onto a sliver of resolve, even as it wore thin. "Y/N, beautiful," he said, his voice rough, "we need to use a condom."

"Top drawer," you gasped, your words nearly a plea as your body moved beneath him, craving the release only he could give you. "Hurry!"

With a nod, Spencer fumbled toward the bedside table, pulling the drawer open with shaky hands. He found the box quickly, tearing it open with urgency. Your eyes stayed locked on him, watching every movement, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your skin burning with need.

He returned to you swiftly, sliding the condom on with practiced care, though his hands were trembling. The moment he was ready, he positioned himself above you again, his eyes filled with both desire and affection as he leaned down to kiss you, this time slower, savoring the feel of your lips against his.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice softer now, filled with reassurance as he finally pressed forward, slowly pushing inside of you, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure crashing through both of you.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a loud, satisfied moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely, your body welcoming him in a way that felt natural, perfect. Spencer groaned, his breath hitching as he felt your tight walls constrict even further around him. 

"Y/N, darling, relax, please," Spencer panted, his voice laced with both urgency and concern as he struggled to hold himself back, his body tense with restraint. He could feel your tightness, the way you clenched around him, and it was driving him wild, making it hard to stay in control. 

You whimpered, your body still adjusting to the sensation. "You're just—ah!" Your voice broke into a loud gasp as he finally pushed all the way inside, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, overwhelming in the best way. "You're so big... why didn't you tell me you were so big?"

Spencer let out a tense chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction despite his own effort to keep himself in check. "I, uh... didn't think it was that big," he managed to get out, his breath shaky as he looked down at you, his forehead damp with sweat from the strain of holding himself back. 

“You’re a fucking liar,” you laughed breathlessly through your whimpers and whines, your body trembling with both pleasure and amusement.

His chuckle, though filled with affection, was also tight with restraint, and you could feel the tension in his body as he tried to keep from moving too quickly. "Just... breathe," he murmured, his voice gentler now as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, trying to calm both you and himself. "I'll give you as much time as you need. I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded, taking deep breaths as your body slowly adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. Spencer’s hands stayed gentle, stroking your sides and thighs as he gave you time to acclimate, though you could feel him trembling with the effort of holding back.

After a moment, you shifted your hips, testing the sensation, and the movement elicited a low groan from Spencer, his self-control wavering. "Okay..." you whispered, your voice soft but filled with need. "I’m ready."

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he slowly began to move. His pace was careful at first, each thrust deliberate as he let your body adjust to his size, but the tension between you built quickly, and soon, the rhythm grew more urgent, more desperate.

Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, the sensation of him filling you so completely making you dizzy with desire. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he moved so perfectly in sync with you, as if you were made for each other.

Spencer groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours again as his movements grew more intense. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice strained as he fought to hold himself back just a little longer, wanting to make this last as long as possible for both of you.

"Spencer!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as your body trembled beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Yeah, baby?" he panted, his voice rough and breathless as his hips slapped against yours in a steady, rhythmic motion. "Tell me what you need."

"You! More! Please!" Your voice was a desperate plea, every inch of your body burning with want.

"Fuck," he breathed, his control slipping as he sped up, his thrusts becoming more intense. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub you in time with his movements. The sensation made you cry out again, the combination of his fingers and his body sending you spiraling toward the edge.

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you whined, your body trembling as you clenched tightly around Spencer, the sensation pushing you toward the brink.

“Y/N!” he gasped, his voice strained as he tried to hold on. “Calm down, baby, you’re going to push me out.”

But you were too far gone to hear him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you. Your whimpers grew louder, your body thrashing uncontrollably as Spencer’s fingers moved faster, working in perfect rhythm with your body's need.

Suddenly, it hit you all at once, the most intense release you’d ever experienced. You let out a violent scream, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, something deeper and more powerful than anything you'd ever felt before.

Your walls clenched so tightly that you did, in fact, push Spencer out, and you gushed all over him, your body overwhelmed by the force of your orgasm. Spencer let out a low groan at the sensation, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and arousal as he watched you come undone in front of him, watched your release coat his stomach and thighs.

“Did you just... squirt?” Spencer asked, his voice full of pure awe as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with amazement.

You were a panting mess on the bed, completely spent from the intensity of what had just happened. “That, or I just peed on you,” you mumbled, half-joking but still trying to make sense of the overwhelming sensation you had just felt.

Spencer laughed, shaking his head as he dipped down to kiss you, his lips soft against yours. “You are so sexy, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice full of affection and admiration.

You kissed him back tiredly, your body too exhausted to do much more, but the desire to give him what he needed still lingered. "Want you to come too," you whined softly, your words almost pleading.

“Okay, okay,” Spencer soothed, his breath hitching as he positioned himself once more, slowly pushing back inside you. The sensation made your body jolt, and you cried out, your back arching from the overstimulation. It was too much and yet not enough, the oversensitivity sending sharp pulses of pleasure through you.

“Are you okay, darling?” Spencer asked, his voice breathless as he fought to hold himself back, concerned about your comfort.

You nodded quickly, though your body was trembling beneath him. “Nuh huh,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you gripped him tightly, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, I want this. Please,” you urged, your body still sensitive but craving the closeness, needing to feel him chase his own release.

Spencer groaned at your words, his resolve crumbling as he began to move again, thrusting into you with an increasing pace. His body was tense, his breath ragged as he neared the edge, each movement sending both of you into a dizzying spiral of pleasure.

You clung to him as he chased his release, your breaths mingling, your bodies connected in a way that felt intimate and overwhelming all at once. And when Spencer finally let go, his body shuddering as he found his own climax, you held him close as he groaned and whispered your name. 

After Spencer had taken care of both of you, gently cleaning you up and even changing the sheets that had been soaked in your release, the two of you finally settled into bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. His body was warm against yours, his breath steady as he held you close. Everything felt so perfect, so right in that moment, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you in that cozy little space.

You nuzzled into Spencer's chest, feeling his heartbeat under your lips as you placed a soft kiss there. "I want things to be different," you mumbled, your voice quiet and filled with a softness that made his heart swell.

Spencer looked down at you, his hand stroking your hair gently. "Yeah?" he asked, the happiness in his voice evident. "Different how?"

You shifted slightly, still cuddled close, your lips brushing over his skin. "I want everyone to know," you murmured, your voice more certain this time.

Spencer chuckled softly, though he held you tighter, a smile spreading across his face. "Know what exactly?" he asked, teasing slightly, though he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes with a sweet, serious look. "That you're my boyfriend," you said, your voice full of affection, but also with a sense of determination.

Spencer’s heart fluttered at your words, and he couldn’t help but break into a grin. He’d never thought he’d hear you say something so simple yet so powerful. "Boyfriend, huh?" he teased softly, though his own voice was thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. "I think I’d like that," he whispered.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you like a blanket. "Good," you replied, kissing him softly. "Because I want everyone to know how lucky I am."

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his thumb gently tracing the outline of your face. "I think I’m the lucky one, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with nothing but pure, overwhelming happiness. And in that moment, with the two of you wrapped up in each other, everything felt like it was exactly as it should be.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance 

[florencemtrash]

Bedsides and Breakfasts

Summary: After Azriel comes home battered and bruised, he refuses to eat the meal you've made him... Why?

Warnings: Angst, character injury, fluff

Author's note: For context, Y/n is Helion's bastard daughter. In an earlier draft of my other (very long) fic, The Shadowsinger and The Inkbird, this was going to be a scene that takes place after Azriel gets hurt during the Battle on the Lake where Y/n figures out Azriel is her mate. I wanted to finish it up and get it out there because I don't want to say goodbye to that story just yet and I wanted to get back into writing so.... here ya go!

The Townhouse sang quietly as it worked. Its melodies lay in the shifting curtains that shook off dust into the wind. Its lyrics in the whistling teakettle. You liked these sounds as you moved about the kitchen, preparing your tea and a crust of bread slathered with butter and jam. 

When the Townhouse was empty, you didn’t need to fear your power — there was no one around for you to touch and steal memories from. Mor had tried to drag you out to Rita’s that evening — “Rhys says you’ve learned to keep your Clairvoyance at bay! Come dancing with us!” — but you couldn’t muster the courage or the energy.

Besides, you were awaiting a certain Shadowsinger’s arrival. 

“Won’t you come back and make me your home? You who’ve stolen my heart as simple as a whisper, calm as a storm,” You hummed to yourself. You swore the Townhouse sighed in contentment. “Do you like my silly little songs then?” You mused. 

The lights shone a little brighter, crackling the air with a flicker of energy. 

You were singing about Azriel — of course you were — and blushing all the while. He’d been the first to truly speak to you — the first to notice you — and the embrace you’d shared in Rhysand’s office had left you breathless for days. You could still feel the ghost of his breath against your neck as you’d buried your face in the hollow of his throat. The cracked leather beneath your fingers and the short hairs at the base of his skull you’d caressed as lovingly as any flower. It was the first time you’d ever been touched like that. Like you were something worth holding onto. 

When he was gone, the Townhouse felt too empty. You felt too empty. Even now, the edges of your patience frayed like a worn shirt without him. 

You spent the evening’s hours combing through every book you’d managed to lug over from the Library. It was quick, but taxing work as every touch against the weathered binding allowed you to absorb its knowledge without you ever having to lay an eye on the page. 

When the candle flickered dangerously close to your books and the dull throbbing behind your eyes had gone on for too long, you blew out the light and could do no more than curl up on the sofa before falling fast asleep. 

The whispers of shadows woke you. You couldn’t understand the words hidden within their overlapping voices, but their panic and relief were heavy in the air. You could almost taste their meaning on your tongue.

“Y/n,” Azriel moaned. He leaned heavily against the open door, forcing it open against the drag of the carpet. His sword clattered to the ground before his knees. “Y/n,” he called out again, more urgently this time. He prayed to the gods you were home. He’d flown through the night, tattered wings struggling to keep him aloft, to make sure he’d see you again… just in case.

Blood and iron burned your nose and your sleep-swollen eyelids split open. “Az—” Your knee slammed against the coffee table in your struggle to escape the blankets. “AZ!” 

Azriel was always greedy for the sight of you, and that familiar tug in his chest tightened as you rounded the corner and sprinted towards him. You tripped where the hardwood ended and the carpet began, throwing his arm around your shoulder. 

He smiled softly at you. Three months ago, you’d been too afraid to touch anyone. Now here you were half-supporting his weight as he staggered to his feet. He stole a few precious seconds to lean his head into the crook of your neck and breathe in your scent. For a moment, he believed it would be enough to heal him.

“How bad is it?” 

“Three arrows in the right wing, two in the left. Fae bane.” 

“Anywhere else?” You both stumbled down the hallway back from where you’d come. 

“I may have been stabbed a few times.” He offered the piece of information casually, like he was complaining about the price of eggs.

“What’s a few?” Your eyes were wide as the moon. Searching, searching, searching for wounds.

“Ten?” 

Your growl tore through the quiet of the night. 

Your hands were slippery with blood, and Azriel almost slid out of your fingertips as you deposited him against the table. You flung your arms out over the hardwood tabletop sending bottles of ink, pens, and sheafs of papers clattering to the floor before rolling Azriel onto the top and forcing him to lay down.

Under the chandelier, Azriel looked ghastly. The warmth was drained from his skin and the hollows of his eyes and the fullness of his lips were tinged purple from cold. His eyes drifted apart from one another.

“I need you to stay awake.” 

“I will.” His words were slippery as soap on porcelain, syllables sliding into one another as he promised you he would be alright and that he had suffered worse before.  

“Stay awake!” You commanded him and his eyes sharpened ever so slightly on your figure as you tore through the cabinets in the corner. 

Where is it? Where is it? Glass bottles clinked and tottered on rounded bottoms. There! 

You snatched one of the pale green bottles lining the back wall and bit off the cork top with a grimace, spitting it out onto the floor. You could taste the medicine inside coat your teeth with an acrid film. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” You slapped Azriel’s cheeks to keep him awake. “Drink this.” 

Azriel’s lips parted immediately and he accepted every bitter drop you forced down his throat. It wasn’t a cure, but it would help stabilize him long enough for help to arrive. In the time it took for you to call out to Rhys and light the candle that would wake Madja and call her to the Townhouse, Azriel’s cheeks had flushed with some more color. 

The sight did little to ease your worries as you worked on unbuckling the straps of his armor. Piece by piece they fell away with a wet thud on the ground. 

He grabbed your wrist before you could run in search of something to cut off the clothes clinging to him like a second skin. Elain had left gardening shears on the back porch. Perhaps the kitchen had scissors?

“Stay.” He begged. “Please stay.”

“Rhys and Madja will be here soon. I just need to get something to help you.” 

“Then stay.” His grip turned desperate, short nails digging into your forearm. “Stay and help me. Don’t leave me.” 

Azriel might have smiled if he wasn’t in so much pain. His hand slid up the curve of your arm to hold your neck, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. 

“I wanted to see you just in case.” His chest rattled with the effort, “Gods, I missed you.” 

He’d been gone weeks on the Continent, scrounging after every whisper of Koschei’s name as far as the eastern mountains. He’d scavenged and raged. Killed and tortured. And he’d missed you all the while. It was what had possessed him to fly all the way to Velaris, when he would have been better off breaking into the Day Court and throwing himself at the mercy of Helion — your father. 

You felt the tears prick at your eyes, angry and hot. “If you say another fucking word like you’re about to die, I will kill you myself.” You were not prone to violence, and Azriel felt some pride that he could elicit such an emotion from you. 

Luckily for you both, Azriel didn’t get a chance to say anything else, and you didn’t get a chance to murder him before Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Madja were bursting through the front door and following the blood-red trail to the dining room. 

Azriel squeezed your hand once more. “Stay with me.”

��Where else would I go, Az?” You whispered, pressing a quick kiss to the palm of his hand before the others crowded close. 

You stayed at the head of the table, one hand always holding onto Azriel’s. He swallowed his pain, the faintest groans slipping from his lips as arrows were pulled out inch by bloody inch. It was no easy thing to endure, not even for Azriel. Wicked barbs lined the arrow shaft and caught onto the delicate membrane of his wings no matter how Madja twisted, pushed, and pulled. 

One particularly harsh wrench had Azriel crying out, his nails digging into your arm and drawing blood. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, feeling your skin break beneath his nails. His skin was tinged green now. A sickly sheen covered his face and fell over his eyes. 

“It’s ok. It’s ok. Just look at me.” You grasped the sides of his face. “Look at me.” 

Once again, Azriel was ready to listen to your commands. His eyes never left yours, not once, until the last of the faebane-tipped arrows dropped onto the table with a menacing ring of metal on wood.

Feyre closed his wounds as best she could, but the flesh inside would take longer to heal. For now all they could do was carefully wipe the blood from his body and carry him up to his bedroom. 

You lingered by Azriel’s side long after he fell asleep, fingers twitching with nerves as you counted every slow and steady breath of his. 

“Y/n.” Feyre gently touched your arm. “He’ll be alright.”

You nodded, still watching Azriel sleep. Then, to your mortification, you burst into tears. Your clothes were drying stiff with sweat and blood — none of it yours — and the red handprints Azriel had left along your arms were turning to copper rust. 

She shushed you, softly tugging at your arms. 

“He-He asked me to stay,” you said between gulps of air. 

“He’d want you to be clean and well-rested, Y/n. Don’t let him wake up feeling guilty.” 

If it weren’t for Feyre, you would have remained glued to the floor of Azriel’s room until you became one of the faces trapped in the wooden floors. You let her lead you across the hall to your own room where she filled the tub with warm water and soap. 

“Shit,” you mumbled. Your fingers shook so much you couldn’t undo the buttons of your dress. Shadows, loose and long as stalks of grass, wound around your back, plucking the buttons undone without a word. 

“He’ll be alright.” Feyre repeated this phrase many times as you scrubbed off the night’s events and turned the water copper brown. The magic of the Townhouse whisked away the grime almost as quickly as it appeared until you sat in a sudsy bath, milky and clean.

“What happened to him, Fey?”

“From what Rhys and I can tell, Koschei had over a dozen archers lying in wait for when he returned to Prythian. We’ve already warned Helion.” 

You nodded. Your head felt heavy on your neck, like a doll with a snapped neck. 

“He nearly died.” Once the words were out in the open, fragile and pure, you broke down again, knees drawn up to your chest in the tub. 

“But he didn’t.” Feyre smoothed back your dripping hair. “It will take more than arrows and faebane for Death to steal him from us, Y/n.” 

Gods you hoped that was true, or else your heart might give out every time Azriel walked out the door. 

You returned to his side the moment you were clothed, hair still dripping onto his gray bed sheets as you leaned forward from your chair and held his hand. He slept on his stomach, wings flared out and peppered with white gauze like a patchwork quilt. Beneath the drape of his blankets you knew more gauze covered his chest and stomach, dotted with blood like blooming roses. 

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you awoke to a deep ache in your back and a faint choir of voices in the air. 

Shadows. 

They kissed your cheeks, cool and soft, urging your eyelids open. Azriel was already awake and sitting up in bed with a grimace. One hand clutched his side and a leg hung over the edge of the bed, like he intended to stand. When he saw you, his hazel eyes widened. First in alarm. Then in guilt. 

“Az?” Your voice felt crusted with smoke and sleep and you did what you could to straighten the crook in your neck and your spine from the odd position you’d fallen asleep in. ““You’re not supposed to be sitting up.” Your bones cracked obnoxiously as you moved for the first time in hours, and the guilt in his gaze deepened. 

You pressed lightly against his chest, feeling the gauze scratch your skin, but he did not budge. 

“Az, you need to lay down. What were you even doing up?” 

Azriel’s eyes flickered off to the side. “I was… I was trying to move you to the bed.” 

You swallowed your yawn and blinked in disbelief. “Azriel, you’ve just been shot and stabbed. You need to lay back down.” 

He grabbed your wrists, tugging you forward until you almost collapsed against his chest. “There’s space on the bed. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“The chair is fine, and you are hurt. Now, please—” He did not move. No matter how you reasoned with him. No matter how you tried to shove him back beneath the covers.

“I will lay back down under one condition.” 

You frowned. He was much more stubborn when he was injured. “What condition?” 

“Sleep on the bed. There’s plenty of room.” 

“Az—” 

“Please.” His hands slipped into yours, fingers pressing against the pulse of your wrists. “Y/n, I will be comforted with you beside me.” He held up his finger before you could sleep. “And not in that gods-awful chair. You’ll wake up crooked.”

“I’m not a stalk in a storm,” you grumbled, because it only seemed appropriate that you should fight him on this. Otherwise, you’d have to admit that the thought of melting into his bed set off fireworks in your stomach, exciting and terrifying at the same time. You’d also have to admit the scent of mountain air embedded in every inch of his room brought you comfort. You could lay your head on his pillows and sleep for an eternity. 

I shouldn’t be here. But you let him tug you closer to him. You slid your legs over his waist, calves catching on the waistband of his pants and dragging in a way that had your heart leaping into your stomach until you were safely on the other side of him. 

Azriel’s bed was massive — over 12 feet across to better accommodate the span of his wings. You moved as far away from him as you could without eliciting offense and stared at the window. 

Your muscles clenched as he shifted closer to you, wings rustling against the silk sheets and whispering as he got comfortable. Every time he so much as shifted, your back prickled, as though you had eyes there that shifted to soak up every inch of him. 

He’s hurt and I’m taking up space and—

He reached out his arm and his fingertips brushed against the curve of your back. You stiffened like you’d been struck by lightning. If Azriel were awake, he would have apologized and wrenched back his hand as if burned. But he was fast asleep and the touch was a natural movement he made in his dreams where he was imagining that you were closer to him. So close that he could breathe down your neck and feel you melt beneath his touch. 

You didn’t sleep, as much as the lull of his breathing threatened to sink you into sweet and comforting dreams. The sky was but a lighter shade of black when you were slipping out of bed with barely a whisper. Miraculously, Azriel did not awaken, and his shadows ghosted over the floors drowsily.

You were no stranger to dawn as you padded down to the kitchens. You hummed to yourself, cracking eggs over a well-greased skillet with onions, tomatoes, and peppers tossed in. They bobbed up and down in a sea of yellow like ducks on water. Potatoes browned to your right, their skins crackling and spitting grease as bacon popped and sizzled beside them. 

You ate as you went, plating the final meal for Azriel, who—if you knew anything about him—would be waking shortly after the first rays of sunlight split his shadows in two. 

You slipped back into his room as quietly as you’d left, and then nearly leapt out of your skin to find a dark mass of shadow covering the bed. 

“You’re awake,” you said blankly. 

Azriel propped himself up onto his elbows, back rippling as he forced his stiff and swollen wounds to stretch until he could sit up in bed. 

“Where did you go?” There was but a faint slur to his words. “You weren’t here when I woke up.” 

“I was making breakfast.” You dragged over the ottoman from the foot of his bed as a makeshift table. “Did you brush your teeth already?” Not that it mattered. A sour mouth wouldn’t keep him from a meal if he was hungry. 

The flash of fear in his eyes was so subtle, so brief, that you missed it. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Well that doesn’t really matter. Madja said you should eat first thing. Oh!” You plucked a purple glass bottle from his bedside table. “And she said to drink this with a meal.” You pushed it into his hands, reluctant as they were to take the stoppered bottle from you. 

“I can’t imagine eating right now.” He said, shaking his head. His cheeks puffed out and he swallowed hard. “The smell… it’s… I can’t stomach it.” 

You frowned at that. He liked your cooking. It was only due to circumstance that you hadn’t been able to cook for him in months. 

“Can you please try?” you begged. “Just a bite.”

His skin turned pallid and the dark marks beneath his eyes stood out. He picked up a fork with a trembling hand, stuck it into a potato, then dropped it as if it burned. Suddenly, he regretted asking you to stay the night. Guilt ate away at his stomach, twisting it like spaghetti on a fork. 

You sighed in dejection. “I’ll bring it back downstairs.” You said. You began collecting the silverware from where you’d left them by his side. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, catching your wrist in his hand. 

You smiled softly. “Try and get some rest.” 

“Will you be back?” His words caught you by the door. 

“You won’t even realize I was gone.” 

He doubted that very much. Still, he settled back in bed, rolling onto his stomach to keep its rumbling at bay. He was quite hungry. 

You closed the door behind you, carrying the untouched plate of eggs and potatoes. Cassian stopped his whistling as he made his way down the hall, a teasing smile playing at his lips until he caught sight of your dejected expression. 

“What’s got our resident Librarian frowning? Did someone misplace a book in the House?” 

You didn’t rise to Cassian’s jests. You cast a sullen glance back at Azriel’s door like it was personally responsible for everything, and shrugged. “He hasn’t eaten since he’s been back and I’m starting to get worried. I read up on Illyrian anatomy weeks ago and he should be fine enough to eat by now.” 

Cassian leaned down, taking a careful sniff of the plate before grabbing hold of a butter and rosemary roasted potato and plucking it in his mouth. It was cold and the butter had hardened into a greasy slick, but it was still good. He told you as much as he walked with you back to the kitchens, stealing slivers of potato as he went.

“It’s nice to know my cooking’s not at fault.” 

Cassian jerked back in surprise and sudden understanding. “You made him that?”

“Yes. I know the House has its own will, but I like to cook. And it still feels strange having food just appear out of nowhere.”  

Cassian fought with all his might to keep the cheeky grin from his face. 

Poor Azriel, forced to go hungry because he was still too much of a sheepish fool to tell you about the mating bond let alone accept it. 

He clicked his tongue. He loved his brother to the grave and back, but Azriel had a horrible habit of getting trapped in his own mind. Cassian had hoped you would help with that, given you suffered similarly. 

“I wouldn’t take it too personally. Azriel’s a picky eater. Always has been.”

That was a complete and utter lie. Growing up in the Illyrian war camps meant you either starved or ate whatever gray-brown mush you could get your hands on. Rhysand and Azriel had been quicker to move on from the rugged Illyrian lifestyle, and Rhysand especially had used his High Lord privileges to cultivate a refined and expensive taste, but if they were hungry and limited they didn’t give two shits what went in their mouths. 

“I didn’t realize you could afford to be picky in a war camp,” You grumbled. You dropped the plate’s contents onto a skillet, patiently waiting for the House to light a toasty fire. There was no need to let good food go to waste.   

You thought over it, some minor irritation settling in that the Shadowinger had rejected the food you’d worked to make. It really didn’t make sense that Azriel would be so particular about food. Or anything for that matter. He’d always struck you as the practical, bare-bones sort, and you knew him well enough now to know that was true. His very job required it of him. But then again you couldn’t remember the last time he’d accepted any food that you’d offer-

You froze. Oh. Oh.

The first night he’d visited your apartment in the Day Court, he’d refused your tea and cakes before leaving abruptly. You’d agonized over that night for months, trying to figure out what you might have done to scare him off. But he’d been so kind and shy afterwards and then the whole matter of Koschei had arose and you’d never given it much thought because he just seemed so familiar and... Oh. OH-

“BASTARD!” You spat out in shock. The skillet dropped to the stove with a sharp cry that had Cassian blinking. He’d never seen you like this. So…agitated.

Had you always been this dull? A year ago you might have been able to blame it on your naïveté, but you weren’t so socially misinformed now and yet this was a bit much. And… oh you couldn’t wrap your head around your own stupidity to even begin to think about a mating bond with…

A mating bond with Azriel. You… you were his mate. He was yours. And you were his. And suddenly the pieces of it were falling into place so quickly you thought you might be crushed beneath the weight. 

Mate.

Even the thought of the word crashed around your mind incessantly, like an anxious dog trying to settle down to sleep. Yet it all made such perfect sense. The way Azriel always found you when you were in danger or grieving. The awful days when Azriel had been away and you’d felt like a piece of your body had been severed. The way that the world felt right when he was beside you. Maybe it was the bond, maybe it was just something born out of love, or maybe they were one and the same. It was impossible to tell but it didn’t change anything.

Mate.

Cassian glanced sideways at you and said cautiously, “We’re both bastards, Y/n. I don’t think that’s much of an insult coming from your mouth.”

Your eyes snapped to his, suddenly remembering that he was in the kitchen with you. You brandished a fork in your hand like a weapon, pointing the pronged end up at him like he was a piece of meat to be skewered. You were shorter than him, but the sharpness in your eyes made him pause.

“You.” Such a simple word, yet it sounded so threatening. “You knew didn’t you?”

Was he sweating? The room felt warm.

“I don’t know what-“ You snatched his wrist and with your magic, you stole the information from him that you needed. It was as easy as plucking a flower from a field. 

Fuck. Cassian groaned at the same time you did. You knew now. Not that you really needed confirmation from Cassian. Still. It was rather embarrassing to learn you were the last of… well everyone to know, even if it was your fault for not noticing the signs. In your defense you had been preoccupied with other matters…

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” You muttered, heating up the remaining food with a great deal of force before setting down a fresh tray, plate, utensils, and mug of tea on the countertop.

You keep muttering to yourself, your joy disguised by your embarrassment and no small amount of shock. Cassian watched nervously as you prepped the plate. 

You’d no sooner growled, “Move,” before Cassian leapt to the side and you set off out the door and down the hallway back to Azriel’s room.

She knows. One shadow whispered in his ear. Azriel felt his heart skyrocket and his stomach plunge to the cradle of his hip bones. 

She seems… upset.

Upset was a mild word. You were alight with every emotion possible — fury, fear, anxiety, excitement, love — and Azriel struggled to tease them apart. It was like he’d been hit in the chest by a tangle of snakes, each a writhing, living, ever-changing thing. One moment you seemed nervous, the next angry. 

“You.” Your knuckles were pale as they gripped the tray. Sunlight molded to your form like a crown, and it became all the more apparent that you were Helion’s daughter — his bastard daughter, but daughter nevertheless. 

He scrambled into a seated position just in time for you to drop the tray in his lap with a clatter that sent fork and knife skittering over the dish.

You looked down at the tray, then up at his eyes, wide and molten as amber. “You didn’t tell me.” You didn’t need to elaborate any further. 

“I didn’t think—”

“You’re right. You didn’t.” You blinked, suddenly shy. “Did I not make it clear enough that I liked you? That I loved—love you? Or perhaps you don’t… perhaps you don’t want me.” That was a possibility you hadn’t thought of in your excitement to see him again. 

Oh gods, you hadn’t thought of that possibility had you? You’d just aggressively thrown food at him, expecting that he would—

Azriel gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him again. Your cheeks were warm and painted with color. 

“I always worried I was reading into actions that meant nothing to you. But, never think for a moment that I don’t want you.” He smiled then, a shy, secret smile reserved for you. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” 

Now your cheeks were burning, but Azriel did not mind feeling this kind of heat on his hands. He let go of your chin, twirling a fork with his fingers like it was a knife. It was one of his few nervous ticks whose knowledge was reserved for the people he trusted. For the people he loved. 

“Being with me will put you in more danger than you know.” 

“But I expect it will bring me more happiness than I could have ever imagined.” You raised a hand up to his face, twisting away a stubborn curl of hair that fell over his forehead. “And you forget who my father is,” you reminded him. “Maybe it is I who will put you in danger.” 

“Maybe,” Azriel whispered. His breath fanned over your cheeks, soft and sweet. 

You picked up the fork, lifting it up in between you. 

“Eat.” You commanded him. 

Azriel smiled, plucking it from your fingers and stabbing a potato. He sighed. “I never could deny you anything, and I would never want to,” he said, before chewing carefully. Cautiously. 

You blinked in surprise, instinctively taking a step away when you felt something new and warm begin to burn in your chest, like someone had taken a drop of the molten hazel in Azriel’s eyes and dropped it into your heart. 

“Oh.” You breathed. 

“Yes,” Azriel murmured, “An unusual feeling, I know.” He placed the tray beside him and he’d no sooner opened his arms before you’d buried your face in the crook of his neck. You wanted more of that warmth in your chest. You wanted to slip into Azriel's skin as close as possible to his beating heart. To feel the mating bond wrap around you both like a curtain to block out the rest of the world. 

Azriel groaned in pain, but would not let you leave his embrace. No pain had ever been worth so much. 

You forced him to finish eating, even though all he wanted was the taste of you on his lips. “Later,” you promised him. When he was healed and whole there would be more breathless kisses and urgent touches, but for now he had to content himself with eating his meal and drinking his draught. But he would not be denied the press of your skin against his as you slipped beneath the covers and curled up beside him. This time, you fell asleep quickly and your dreams came over you like water. 

[smokesandsonatas]

I just want to see the Octavinelle trio get surprised, tongue-tied and amused because the reader is cunning.

Characters: Azul, Jade, and Floyd.

Warnings: None, just the old contract signing the Octavinelle way. First person pov. Mostly in Azul's pov. Tension (?).

Not beta read.

Shrimp Cocktail.

Apparently, it does not take a lot to amuse the Octavinelle trio. Or the story where you took a deal with Azul and it went unexpectedly.

They should learn not to underestimate Shrimpy.

Azul had always underestimated you. In his eyes, you were a mere human—a dimwitted fish floundering in the waters of Night Raven College. You lacked the cunning and intelligence of Jade, who could manipulate any situation with a few well-placed words, and you weren’t a lazy smartass like Floyd, who could memorize an entire book but discard it just as easily if he found it dull and boring. With your easy-going nature, you seemed like the perfect prey.

Well, you are the perfect prey.

Here you are, sitting in Azul’s office at the Mostro Lounge, the twins flanking you in chairs beside you. Floyd lounged with a lazy grin, manspreading on the sofa, while Jade sat, poised like a gentleman, a smirk barely concealed behind his gloved hand. Grim had been left behind at the ramshackle dorm, leaving you alone in the scammer's den. Azul could barely contain his amusement—you had just fallen into his trap, one he fully intended to exploit. You sat quietly in front of him, your face poised with a neutral expression. To Azul and the twins, you looked kind, naive—perhaps even a little stupid. They think you are an airhead. Their excitement was barely contained. They got you right where they wanted you to be. Here in Mostro Lounge, with no one but them watching over you like predators waiting to pounce and choke their prey.

"You're here for the favor of us providing Grim with food three times a day, seven days a week, for the duration of your absence with Professor Trein as the school's official photographer at an event outside Night Raven College," Azul began, his voice dripping with the saccharine politeness he used to mask his true intentions. "In exchange, you agreed that you will work for fourteen days, regular shifts, without any compensation for Mostro Lounge. I expect you to fully commit to your duties."

You nodded, hands neatly placed on your lap, a small smile on your lips. "Yes, that’s exactly it."

Jade’s grin widened slightly. You were so naive, so predictable. Pathetic, really—but there was something endearing about your earnestness. Everyone in Octavinelle liked this about you—how you walked into traps with your eyes wide open, never realizing until it was too late. You really are a shrimp, through and through. No sense of survival, no sense of fear.

Jade could feel his twin looking earnestly in you, their expression one of amusement.

You will never survive in the ocean.

"Very well then, Prefect," Azul continued, practically trembling with excitement as he handed you a golden scroll, a quill magically appearing in his gloved hand. "Sign this contract, and the favor you ask shall be yours."

You took the pen, hovering it just above the dotted line. Azul’s eyes gleamed with anticipation—just a few more minutes—seconds, and you’d be bound by his terms, forced into two weeks of unpaid labor. The satisfaction was almost too much to bear. You would be working without compensation, and Azul could even charge you for any drinks or food you will consume during your shifts!

Azul had also noticed that whenever you work, customers come flocking in! Is it because you're the famed Ramshackle dormleader? He can only suspect so. He might also have you gather more customers—all for free, technically, you are working free to him anyway.

Azul raised an eyebrow when he saw you set the pen down and lean back, that small smile on your lips widening into something sharper, more calculating.

Azul frowned.

"Azul," you began, your voice light and casual, but with an edge that made the room’s atmosphere shift. The twins noticed it too. Jade’s eyes narrowed slightly yet the smirk remains in his lips, and Floyd’s grin widened a little more as they both watched you closely—their eyes glued to you as a clear sign of their newfound interest.

Azul blinked, thrown off by your sudden change in demeanor. "Is something wrong, Prefect?"

"Not at all," you replied smoothly. "I’ve just been thinking about our arrangement. Fourteen days of unpaid work for three meals a day for Grim. It sounds like a fair trade, but then I realized something interesting."

Azul’s hand twitched slightly as he tried to maintain his composure. The contract is perfect in his eyes, all will favour him, how could it not be perfect? "And what might that be?"

You leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "Well, the contract is almost perfect. Almost. But there’s one tiny detail that caught my attention—the meals for Grim. You’ve agreed to provide them three times a day, seven days a week, but the contract doesn’t specify the quality of those meals, does it?"

Azul’s smirk faltered, it is common sense that Grim will be given tuna in cans, isn't it? "The meals will be adequate, and his favourite tuna—"

"Ah, ‘adequate,’" you interrupted, your tone almost playful. "That could mean anything, really. Some stale bread, leftover scraps—technically, that would fulfill the contract, wouldn’t it?" You giggle, a sound so sweet it almost had the twins—in their fascination, to stand up and hover behind you. You heard a thud, no doubt it was the twins. Jade’s eyes narrowed, yet his smirk remains, replaced by a look of intrigued and amusement. Floyd sat up straight, fully intending to be by your side yet his uniform was immediately yanked down by Jade, stopping him from interfering. Floyd almost let out a hiss at his twin, though eventually he relents.

"But here’s where things get interesting," you continued, voice dropping to a near sweet tone that Azul use. "If Grim receives such ‘adequate’ meals, he might not be satisfied. A can of tuna alone won't cut it, he needs meat. A properly cooked, healthy meat seeing as he is a carnivore. He could get hungry, irritated—perhaps even cause trouble." You pout—a gesture which distracted Azul for a second as his eyes fell on your lips—appearing as meek as possible, "And as his caretaker, his henchman, I’d be worried. Distracted. And a distracted worker is an inefficient worker."

You locked your eyes against Azul's blue ones.

Azul’s eyes widened as he began to see where you were leading him. He blinked in intrigued and a mix of irritation and amusement.

"And," you pressed on, now leaning on the table, merely inches away from Azul's face. "if Grim were to get sick or cause problems because of poor nutrition, it wouldn’t just be a problem for me." You roll the scroll and use it to poke Azul's chest. "It would be a problem for Mostro Lounge. After all, you’re responsible for providing his meals, for almost a week at that. Any disruption he causes would reflect poorly on your business, wouldn’t it?"

Azul’s mind raced as he tried to find a loophole, but you had him cornered. Refusing your amendment meant sticking to a contract that could end up causing more trouble than it was worth. Agreeing to it, however, would mean committing to a higher standard of care for Grim, cutting into his profits. Twenty-one cans of tuna is not a big expense for him, but if you're to insist on nutritious meals... Well, that would cost him much more than what he intended to provide for your gremlin of a cat.

A simple overlooked in his part really, perhaps it is his fault for thinking you're one of those anemones that will blindly agree to anything without reading the fine print.

Finally, Azul forced a smile. "What do you propose, Prefect?"

You smiled sweetly, as if this were all a friendly discussion. "I propose that the meals provided for Grim meet a specific standard. Balanced, nutritious, and satisfying. A mix of tuna and properly cooked meat. A steak even. That way, Grim stays in good condition, I stay focused on my task outside of Night Raven College, and Mostro Lounge continues to run smoothly." You smiled at Azul as you lean at the table—mere inches away from his face, the octomerman can practically inhale your scent, have you always smelled this good?

"I also propose that I won't do overtime during my shifts for fourteen days, though I will not get paid, I would love it if my meals and drinks are free of charge—all within the time of my shift, of course."

You smiled sweetly at Azul—the way you don't break eye contact. It's exhilarating. It's making him sweat under his dorm uniform. "It’s in everyone’s best interest, don’t you think?"

Azul hesitated. This was not the agreement he had envisioned. His meticulously designed scheme had been dismantled by your shrewd maneuvering. We're you secretly a trickster? Appearing naive and helpless yet you are the one who catches people in your trap of being a false prey.

With a begrudging sigh, he conceded, "Very well, I’ll agree to the contract your propose. The meals provided for Grim will meet the specified standards, and you shall have the favours you asked during the course of your shift at Mostro Lounge."

You picked up the pen again, a triumphant glint in your eyes as you prepared to finalize the deal. A sweet, sweet, smile on your lips. "Thank you, Azul. I’m so glad we could come to an agreement."

As you signed the contract, Azul's sense of triumph morphed into a tumult of frustration and begrudging admiration. It's disgusting, your body language appeals to him—he knows it appeals to the twins too, given how Floyd is laughing right now, with Jade snickering beside him. You're one of the first—if not the first who had successfully turned the tables on him. It is not even a heavy contract, just an agreement for food and yet, Azul concedes to your demands. Though he suppose it is not bad, since he will see you everyday for almost two weeks. What had seemed like a one-sided victory for him had morphed into a more balanced exchange. You had come into his office alone, seemingly naive, and yet you had outmaneuvered him with words that unsettled him deeply, yet amused him greatly—jellyfishes swimming on his stomach. Perhaps during that time for your compensation he will invite you to his office so he can give you a proper assessment.

Heh, not bad at all.

Jade and Floyd had their mismatched eyes glued on your form, as you stand. Admiring the sway of your hips as you walk outside the room where nobody ever comes out as victorious as you are. You, a small shrimp, had greatly amused the twins. Unfortunately for you, Floyd hates being bored and Jade loves unpredictability—both qualities you tickled the moment you succesfully negotiated a deal with none-other-than Azul Ashengrotto.

As you left the room, Floyd let out a low, almost purring chuckle—how dare you Shrimpy? His blood is now pumping in excitement because of you. "Hehe, Shrimpy’s got some real bite, huh? This is gonna be interesting."

Jade’s gaze followed you with a newfound intensity. "Indeed. The prefect is far more dangerous than they appear. Heh, perhaps they relish the game, much like we do."

Azul was left staring at the contract, his frustration intertwined with a growing, unsettling admiration. You weren’t the dimwitted fish he had thought you were. No, you were a tempest—a captivating, unpredictable force in the waters of Octavinelle. The way you had twisted the terms of the agreement had left him both disturbed and intrigued. Your brilliance was both unsettling and exhilarating, making him realize that you were a much more dangerous fish than he had ever anticipated.

A shiver of something dark and obsessive crept into his thoughts. You had managed to turn a simple negotiation into a display of strategic dominance, leaving him with a dangerous mix of respect and a growing, unsettling fascination. The twins are no better, Jade glues you into his memory, the way you answer casually—it is attractive. Floyd is well, Floyd. He might visit you later and compliment you for outsmarting Azul!

Hehe, who would've thought you are a predator in your own right? Perhaps the shrimp cocktail is a dish best served cold after all.

[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."