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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 1 day ago

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Sooo many things going on. So many things being said without saying them out loud too. 😅

That’s exactly the image I had in my head for Pope for that moment. 🤣

And yes, Pope is going to give Frankie such a hard time about that. All of the guys are really… 😏

Oh yes. Mya is 100% under his skin already. She’s gonna make him crazy and he will indeed love it. Even if he won’t admit to it.

Yeah…Veracruz is so transparent when it comes to Mya. It’s ridiculous really. There’s a reason she can’t completely hate him… aside from the fact that he’s hot AF.

You have a pretty good picture so far. The push and pull with them is going to get pretty hilarious, I think.

Veracruz will have lots of snarky comments and Frankie is gonna be giving a lot of side eye. They are gonna be so much fun. 😅

Are you in my head? Yeah…Pope is not gonna be a fan at all.

Thanks for reading and sharing friend! You know I always love your unhinged thoughts. 💜😘

Buried Secrets Chapter 2: The Divine Source

Buried Secrets Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Summary: After the harrowing events in South America, Frankie and the guys have returned home and opened their own private security business. They're eventually approached by an archeologist, named Mya, who is requesting their specialized services for an archeological expedition in the Amazonian jungle of southeastern Peru, hours away from where they stashed Lorea's money just over the border in the mountains of northern Chile.

Frankie is hesitant to accept the job, but with Pope's insistence this could be their cover to go back for the money, he relents. However, Frankie soon learns their new job assignment only further puts them and his new love interest in danger in an unexpected way as they set out to find the lost Incan city of Paititi.

Word Count: 10.6k

👉 Warnings: smut (MDNI), angst, mentions of mental health struggles and past drug use (it's Frankie), there are bad guys with weapons (gun violence, physical violence, death). Frankie Morales comes with his own warnings.

Chapter A/N: The beginning of this chapter was previously released as a longer teaser, but there have been minor changes since then. So, if you feel like you have read the first little bit, that could be why. 😉

Chapter Quote: “You’re already pissing me off and we haven’t even started yet…”

Frankie’s POV I stood leaning against the door frame to my office, arms crossed over my chest as I listened to Benny run through our options for schedule changes. Will stood nearby, listening intently and occasionally offering up his opinion. He was about to speak when his attention was drawn to movement outside the front window, “Hey guys, looks like we got a new client. A fancy blacked-out SUV just pulled up.”

That automatically had my attention, my mind jumping to thoughts of a similar vehicle passing by my house a couple of weeks prior.

Benny moved to stand next to his brother to peer out the window, “Oh damn, this chic’s hot.”

That was Pope’s siren call. He immediately stuck his head out of his office after spending the last 30 minutes ignoring our conversation about scheduling issues while he no doubt played games on his phone.

“Did you say you needed me, Ben?” he asked nonchalantly, just as our topic of conversation walked in. Pope nearly tripped over his own feet when he caught sight of her. Not that I could blame him. She commanded the attention of the room as soon as she stepped over the threshold and took off her expensive looking sunglasses.

For me, it really didn’t have anything to do with her looks. She just had this magnetic aura that drew you in and intimidated the fuck out of you. She was dressed in a black pants suit that hugged her curves in all the right places, yet still leaving everything to the imagination. Her spiked heels added a few inches to her height as she confidently walked across the lobby with her shoulders back and chin up. Her long mahogany hair swung around her shoulders, perfectly straight with no strands out of place. She was sexy as fuck and not our typical clientele.

We all seemed to be stunned into silence as she came to a stop just in front of where we had congregated near the conference room entrance. Benny was the one to speak up first, standing a little straighter before he opened his mouth. “Hi there ma’am, can we help you with something?” he sputtered out.

“I’d like to speak with Mr. Morales please,” she said without hesitation.

Benny stood there, mouth hanging open as his eyes shifted to me. Will spoke then, “Mr. Morales typically doesn’t meet with new clients. Mr. Miller here and I handle that.”

She feigned a polite smile, “I realize that, but I would prefer to speak with the owner directly as this is a bit urgent and sensitive. I’m sure you can understand.”

Her tone made it clear that was her final answer. Pope obviously didn’t read the room as he stepped forward to intervene, turning on his charm and giving his best flirty smile, “If you wanna step into my office, we can have a chat about your situation. I’m sure I can get you taken care of.”

Her eyes narrowed on him, a playful smirk forming on her lips as she scanned him from head to toe, “I don’t believe you’re Mr. Morales.”

Pope’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. That wasn’t the response he was expecting. The woman’s eyes shifted to me as her smile widened, “But you are. Mind if we have a chat in private?”

I was momentarily frozen by the intensity of her gaze, then confused about how she knew I was who she was looking for. My brows arched as I pursed my lips. We just sort of stared at each other for a brief moment. It felt like she was analyzing every move I made as her gaze raked over me. I uncrossed my arms and moved aside, motioning for her to step into my office.

I glanced over at the guys, all three of them watching her retreating form. If I looked hard enough, I could probably see the drool coming out of Pope’s mouth as he salivated over the possibilities. His eyes finally met mine, sparkling with mischief as he smiled and said, “Será mejor que cierres ese trato.” (You better close that deal.)

I rolled my eyes at his insinuation, “Vete a la mierda,” (Fuck off.)

I could hear Benny and Will snickering as I turned to join the puzzling woman waiting in my office. After closing the door behind me, I was met with her amused expression as she stood with one arm across her chest, the other propped on it so she could rest her chin on her fingers.

“Do you always let him flirt with clients?” she asked in an amused tone.

I shrugged, “I do enjoy watching him stick his foot in his mouth. I can’t help myself.”

She chuckled as our gazes met. My heart rate suddenly spiked as I cleared my throat and moved to lean against the desk, “So, you gotta name? Seems like you already know mine.”

She smiled, not moving from where she stood, “Sorry, that was rude of me to not introduce myself. I’m Mya Carnahan.”

I crossed my arms, “Well, Miss Carnahan, what can Delta 5 Security Solutions help you with?”

She dropped her hands to her sides, smiling up at me through her lashes, “Getting right to it then…I like that.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as I watched her unbutton her blazer. Her hands snaked into the pockets of her pants as she began to pace my office and claim control over our conversation. I could already tell she was going to be a problem. I just wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad one. Maybe both.

“I’ll be leading an archeological dig in the Southeastern Peruvian jungle. I’m gonna need security for my team while we’re there.”

My brows furrowed, “And why would an archeological dig site need our kind of security?”

She paused her pacing to look at me, “The locals won’t exactly be excited about it. Many believe those sites should remain untouched because of old Incan legends. We also have the narcos to worry about. I’m sure you’re aware drugs are heavily trafficked down there?”

I nodded, obviously very familiar with that fact. I was already feeling reluctant about taking this on. I knew exactly what this would lead to once I told Pope about it. The location was too close to where we stashed Lorea's money. He would want to go back for it. I also had a weird feeling about this situation. I didn’t know if I could trust this woman.

“The narcos sometimes move product through those remote areas, have stash houses, and even cultivate in the middle of the jungle. If we were to...unknowingly encroach on their territory, they wouldn’t hesitate to put an end to things.”

I pushed off my desk, moving to stand with my hands on my hips, “Not trying to be rude, but you don’t strike me as an archaeologist. What exactly is it that you do, Miss Carnahan?”

Her eyes were fixed on me as she fought a smile, “When I’m not digging up mummies and old relics, I’m an antiquities dealer. Before you ask…I’m a reputable dealer with ethical sourcing.”

I arched a brow. Somehow, I doubt that. “Who’s your benefactor? I know these digs are expensive. Do I need to be concerned that they’ve pissed anyone off?”

She tucked her plump bottom lip between her teeth, deciding on how to respond. Thoughts of biting that lip myself flashed through my mind. I had to quickly shove them away.

“That’s confidential information. I’ve been asked to keep it under wraps. Best I can give is that he’s a well-off gentleman that does business on a global scale. So yes, he’s probably pissed a few people off. He doesn’t want his name attached to it. As far as anyone is concerned, the dig is funded by donations, which isn’t completely untrue.”

I scoffed, “I’m sorry, but if you can’t give me all the information, then I’m not interested in taking this on. I require a certain level of trust with our clients, and I don’t take unnecessary risks.”

She ignored my response, pacing again and continuing on as if I hadn’t just told her no.

“I haven’t gotten my team fully assembled yet, but I’m thinking we'll have 30-40 people. We’ll need at least one pilot to fly some of the bigger equipment in. Though, I’d prefer two, just in case we need to make a quick exit. We’re planning to be there for at least three months for the initial expedition. We leave in two weeks.”

I stared at her wide-eyed, “Did you hear what I just said? I’m not interested unless you give me all the information I ask for. And who says we have pilots and enough staff on hand to travel to the Peruvian jungle for three months on short notice?”

She was smiling at me again as she approached, crowding my space as we stood toe to toe.

“You’re a pilot, right? There’s one…and I know you hire veterans, so I’m betting you have another one. I’d also wager that a lot of your guys would jump at an opportunity to do something like this. I’m sure your three out front would if given the opportunity.”

How the fuck does she know so much? I was beginning to worry this might be some sort of setup to get us back to South America. The thoughts of that blacked out SUV flashed through my mind again.

“How do you know I’m a pilot?” I asked as I held her gaze.

She turned to look around my office and motioned to the pictures on the wall. I chuckled and nodded. That was a rookie mistake, Fish.

“I don’t do field work anymore…and like I said…you haven’t told me all the information.”

She leaned in just a little closer, still giving me that sweet smile as the scent of vanilla and jasmine invaded my senses. “I’m fairly confident you’re not gonna turn me down, Mr. Morales. You’re too intrigued.”

I’m not sure intrigued is the correct word at this point.

She pulled a business card from her pocket and held it out in offering. I took it, tracing my fingers over the glossy black material. I briefly examined the shiny gold embossed lettering that spelled out Hathor’s Gallery of Antiquities framed with a gold border. Even her fucking business card seemed expensive.

“I need to know something by noon tomorrow, or else I’m moving on to another security firm.”

My head snapped up to meet her gaze, “Another firm? There’s no one else locally that can provide what you need.”

She gave me a smug smile, “You sure about that?”

She had to be fucking with me. I couldn’t help puffing out my chest as I replied, “Yeah, I am.”

She moved to open the door, pausing to look back over her shoulder in my direction, “By noon, or else I’m moving on.”

“We haven’t even discussed payment details,” I added following her to the lobby.

She halted in the middle of the waiting area to look my way, “You only need to name your price, and I’ll pay it.”

I could feel the eyes of Benny, Will, and Pope on us as we stared each other down for a beat. I didn’t know how to respond to that as I stood with my jaw clenching.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow once you’ve officially made your decision," she said as she turned toward the exit. She shifted her attention to the guys still standing outside the conference room entrance, “Mr. Garcia, try to stay outta trouble…Millers, enjoy your afternoon.”

Without another word, she was gone, climbing into the back of the SUV as the driver held the door open for her.

“What the hell was that?” Benny asked.

I sighed and shook my head, “I...don’t fucking know.”

They stood with curious stares, waiting for me to elaborate. Instead, I waved them off and returned to my office. I needed to think through this before I shared anything with them.

After sitting down at my desk, I pulled up the internet browser to do a little research. Hathor’s Gallery of Antiquities had been in business for several years. At least that part of her story added up. It was a legitimate business with a history. As I clicked around on their website, I came across the staff page where I found Mya’s picture next to the title of ‘Owner and Head Curator’.

I sat staring at the image, realizing there was something familiar about her, but I couldn’t figure out what. Had we met before? That would certainly explain how she knew who I was. No. That’s not it. There was no way I would forget her. There was something sort of exotic about the way she looked, alluring and mysterious.

My mind drifted back to the blacked-out SUV. Had she been spying on us? She made it obvious that she knew who we all were. How would none of us have noticed that? My gut was telling me something was off about this whole thing. However, she was right. I was intrigued, to put it mildly.

I continued to click around on the website, eventually coming to a donation page for the Archaeology Preservation Foundation. Listed there were high level details about the proposed expedition. She wasn’t lying about it being funded by donations, but how much could she really get from that? Something like this was going to cost a lot of money, yet she told me to name my price.

I sank back into the seat and rubbed my hands down my face. This was too good to be true. There had to be a catch. There was a certain level of danger that came along with this, of course, but it did give us a legitimate reason to enter Peru - no fake documents or cover stories needed. We could go down early under the guise of checking out the area for security purposes, fly right over the border, grab the money, then return to the site.

I had to chastise myself for even going there. I had done nothing but continuously shut Pope down on this, and here I was doing the same damn thing that I had been giving him hell for. There was no way we could accept this job because I knew that it was only going to lead to trouble.

My thoughts were interrupted by Benny knocking on the door before sticking his head in, “Hey Fish, you ready to head to the gym for training?”

I glanced at my watch, realizing I had been ruminating on this for an hour and a half. I nodded, “Shit…yeah…sorry, lost track of time. I’ll meet you there.”

I puffed air out of my cheeks before standing and gathering my things. I made my way to the truck, telling Pope and Will that I would see them at the bar later as I exited.

When I got to the gym, Benny was already doing leg presses. I quickly changed clothes and joined him but was completely distracted the entire time by my thoughts. Initially I was focused on Lorea’s money, but then my thoughts drifted to Mya Carnahan. I could not wrap my mind around her. She was a puzzle that I couldn’t figure out. Her cool confidence and authoritative attitude baffled me. She was beautiful, no question about it, but she also felt dangerous. There was something enticing about that thought, causing a sudden urge to explore that feeling a little more and get to know her. Though something told me she was going to push every button I had and enjoy the hell out of it. I was now realizing there was a very real possibility that I might enjoy it too.

Benny pulled me from my thoughts again, “Sooo, you gonna tell us what that meeting was about?”

I shook my head, “I dunno…I haven’t decided yet. I may turn it down. It’s…risky…for several reasons.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, but if we get to work with someone who looks like that…it might be worth it.”

I scoffed and shook my head as I met his gaze, “You sound just like Pope.”

He shrugged, “I’m just calling it as I see it. She’s hot. You should ask her out before Pope does…just to piss him off if nothing else.”

I laughed, “I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t give that asshole the time of day. Her taste seems a little too refined…for either of us.”

Benny was smirking now, “You sure about that? She definitely seemed interested in you…Mr. Morales.”

He said my name in a high-pitched suggestive tone before chuckling to himself. My eyes narrowed on him, “Fuck off. She didn’t say it like that.”

His brows arched, “You sure? She definitely had a tone...”

I rolled my eyes as I reached for the handle to release the footplate on the leg press machine to begin a new set of reps. I wasn’t going to bother to entertain that conversation any further, that didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it though.

After finishing with the weights, we moved to one of the sparring rings. It wasn’t my best day, still too distracted to focus on Benny’s movements. He at least got some practice in, even if it wasn’t much of a challenge. After having my ass handed to me for what felt like the hundredth time, I gave up. Waving my white flag and begging him to move on to the punching bag or call it a day.

Given the time, we decided to head out. I ran home to take a quick shower before throwing on a fresh set of clothes and grabbing my hat. Afterward, I was on my way to meet the guys at our favorite dive bar. I had given up drinking along with the coke, but I didn’t see any reason to impede on their fun. I still joined them, gorging myself on hot wings and soda instead of beer and tequila.

I was still on the fence about telling the guys what my meeting with Mya was about, they however, were not giving me any choice on the matter. The badgering began as soon as I sat down at the table. Will seemed more concerned than anything when he inquired. Pope jumped in, being pushy and accusing me of keeping it to myself because I was interested in Mya. He wasn’t completely wrong. I was interested, but I wasn’t entirely sure in what capacity. Benny just wanted to know because he’s a nosey bitch, but also curious about the odd interaction he had witnessed between us in the office.

I managed to deflect the conversation to another topic the first time it came up. However, that didn’t stop them from throwing jabs at me about it as the night went on. After kicking all their asses at darts, just like I did every time we were there, we settled into our usual secluded corner booth and ordered some wings and another round of beer for them and soda for me.

Pope inevitably turned the conversation to the bags of cash we had stashed in the Andes, making me feel more anxious than usual. Having new knowledge and a possible plan brewing in my head made me feel fidgety and keyed up. Pope picked up on it immediately. The fact that I hadn’t told him to drop it yet was probably a red flag too. His whispered words about his latest plan trailed off as he eyed me, “What’s going on, Fish? You good?”

I shrugged, not bothering to look at him as I spoke. “Yeah, I just wish you would stop bringing this up. You know how I feel about it.”

He leaned forward to catch my gaze, his eyes focusing intently on mine. “What's going on, hermano? Did you…”

It took a few seconds to dawn on me that he thought I had slipped and fell back on old habits. I could see why, because my behavior was…off.

I shook my head, “No. Estoy bien.” (I’m fine.)

He didn’t look convinced as his brows furrowed in doubt. I sighed, rubbing at the back of my neck as my eyes drifted around the small table. I could now see the worry and concern etched on each of their faces. Fuck. I’m gonna have to tell them.

“That woman that came in today…she has a job for us…”

They all looked confused by the turn of conversation. I leaned back in my seat, still debating telling them even though I knew I was going to. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t something I could keep from them, no matter how much I wanted to.

I let out a steady breath before continuing, “It’s…an archaeological dig…in Southeastern Peru.”

I stopped there, allowing them to digest that small bit of information. It was obvious when realization hit, causing their eyes to light up from the possibilities of the assignment. Pope was the first to speak, “Fish, we’ve gotta take that. This is our chance…”

I held up my hand to quiet him, “I know, but I do have some concerns…”

They waited for me to continue, all three leaning closer with wide eyes. Pope looked like he was damn near vibrating out of his seat.

“There’s something…off about this woman…and it seems too good to be true. What if she’s working for the cartels…luring us down there to get us killed? She’s purposely holding back information, and I don’t like that. I’m not sure if we can trust her. There’s a lot of risks here. And even if the job is legit…there’s a very real possibility of live fire. She claims to need security because of the locals and cartels operating in the area. It could get messy…”

Benny grimaced, “Not to be Captain Obvious here, but we run a personal security business. There’s always gonna be risk and a chance for live fire. We knew that going in. If it’s a legit job, that’s literally what we’re here for…to protect people. Whether it be here or Peru.”

Damn him and his rational way of thinking. Pope of course was quick to agree. Will, on the other hand, was not. He glanced over at his brother and jerked his chin up toward me as he began to speak, “No, Fish is right. There are additional risks here. What if it’s a trap? Even if it’s not, what if they know it’s us and find out we’re there? We need to consider all that before deciding…”

At least one of them sees it my way. I nodded along with what Will said, jumping in to share more details. “This woman knew things about us. I don’t know how much, but she knows who we are. I think she’s been watching us…I’m almost positive I saw that black SUV pass my house a few weeks back.”

Pope slumped back in his seat, the weight of my words finally sinking in. Benny stared at me in confusion, “Why would she need to spy on us for that though?”

I shrugged, reaching for my glass of soda and taking a sip to soothe my suddenly dry mouth before responding. “That’s the 250 million-dollar question. Like I said, something is off about the whole thing. And besides that, the expedition lasts three months…in the middle of the Amazon jungle. If it is legit, it won’t be easy.”

I could tell the wheels were turning in all their heads as we sat in silence for several minutes. It was Pope who finally broke it, “What if we check into her, get some more background…see who she’s affiliated with…”

I chuckled, “That would be ideal, but we don’t have time. I have to let her know something by tomorrow or else she says she’s moving on to another security firm.”

Will’s brows pinched together, “There’s no one else around here that can handle that…”

I nodded along, “I know…that’s what I said, but she insisted she had another firm in mind.”

All three mumbled out an annoyed, “bullshit” in unison. I shared their sentiment because I knew we were the best. No other firm came close to offering what we could.

Will peered over at me with a pensive look, “What’s your gut telling you?”

I puffed air out of my cheeks as I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table. “I honestly don't know. I couldn’t get a read on her.”

I pulled my hat off to push my hair away from my face before plopping it back onto my head. “Maybe…Maybe I go talk with her tomorrow…See what other information I can get and go from there? I need some questions answered before we agree to anything.”

They all nodded as apprehensive looks passed between them, letting the silence stretch out for a beat. Benny’s lips tugged upward as he met my gaze, “So…if she passes the vibe check, you gonna ask her out? Because if not…”

The admonishing look I shot Benny’s way caused his words to trail off into a snicker. “If we take this job…she’s off limits.” I cut my eyes toward the one I was most worried about following that rule, “You hear me, Pope? She’s a client. Nothing else.”

They all exchanged knowing glances before Pope spoke, “I’ll be sure to remind you of that as needed, hermano.”

I rolled my eyes as I stood from the table, “I don’t have to stick around and listen to this shit.”

Benny laughed before elbowing his brother, leaning over to speak conspiratorially, “He’s gotta go get his beauty sleep…can’t be looking haggard when he meets with the hot archaeologist.”

They all laughed louder than necessary. I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose, “Keep it up Ben, and I’ll dock your pay and leave your ass on desk duty while we’re living out your Indiana Jones fantasies in the middle of the Amazon jungle.”

He was not amused by that, scoffing before giving me the middle finger. I returned the sentiment with a playful grin. Having gotten the last word, I made my exit.

Ben wasn’t far off; I did want to get a decent night’s rest before my conversation with Mya. I felt like I needed to be alert and on top of my game. I needed to sort out my thoughts and think through the things I wanted answers to. I wasn’t sure if I would get any of it from her, but I was damn sure going to try.

I took my time going through my routine the next morning, even having an extra cup of coffee before heading out the door. I was feeling strangely anxious about my impending conversation, and I didn’t really understand why.

When I parked in front of Hathor's Gallery of Antiquities, I felt a tightening in my chest. It was a familiar feeling that I hadn’t had in some time, not since Lorea’s. I felt like I was going into battle.

I inhaled a few deep breaths, attempting to clear my muddled thoughts as I took in the exterior of the gallery. It had an old-world feel in the design with large columns lining the entryway. There were two identical statues on either side of the doors. They looked to be Egyptian, a woman with horns supporting a red circular disk as a crown.

Curiosity got the best of me as I pulled out my phone, doing a quick google search for “Hathor Egypt”. I tapped on the first link in the search results. The included images on the page banner looked similar to the statues in front of the establishment. I scrolled down, one passage catching my attention:

Hathor is known as the Egyptian goddess of love (among other identities). She possessed the ability to manipulate any mortal, God, or beast to do her bidding. She is known to be as wild and menacing as she is warm-hearted and seductive. She did not hesitate to inflict harm on those who stood in her path and would do whatever necessary to reach her goals.

Hathor was consort to many gods, but most notably acted as the Eye of Ra. She served as Ra’s feminine equal, often called ‘The Golden One’, wielding his powers and becoming vengeful in her pursuit to protect him from his enemies. In these instances, she is sometimes depicted as four striking cobras or a lioness…

I had to stop reading as goosebumps formed on my flesh. Something about that description had my head spinning. I had a feeling that the goddess Hathor was not chosen at random. If anything, I felt like I was reading a description of Mya, but I wasn’t sure why considering I had hardly spent any time with her. I sighed, slipping my phone back into my pocket as I stepped out of the truck and made my way toward the entrance.

The inside of the gallery looked about how you would expect, matching the old-world aesthetics of the outside and feeling oddly like a museum. The same large columns from the outer entrance were strategically placed along the inner atrium. I realized now they had intricate carvings that extended to various stone focal points on the walls. My eyes were drawn to a carving of four cobras above a mural depicting an Egyptian deity who had the head of a bird and was standing on a boat. There was something about it that drew me in and held my attention. So much so, that I didn’t hear the petite brunette approach and come to a stop at my side.

I could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke, “Ra’s journey across the sky…it’s a beautiful representation of the story.”

I glanced over at her with a small smile of my own, “Oh yeah? What’s it represent?”

Her eyes sparked and suddenly seemed excited that someone had shown interest. “Do you know much about Egyptian gods?” she asked.

I shook my head, “Very little, but I do find the subject fascinating.”

Her smile widened, “Ra was a God of Gods and father to the pharaohs…he ruled the sun and heavens….and was known as the giver of life. He was a protector but had the capacity to bring great destruction. He’s often depicted with the head of a falcon wearing the sun disc as a crown to symbolize his power and connection to the sky.”

She paused, raising her hand to the mural, pointing out small details as she continued, “This is one of the most popular reliefs of Ra… it shows him sailing the celestial waters on his solar boat by day. By night, he battles the serpent known as Apophis…it’s meant to show the struggle between light and darkness.”

Oddly enough, I found Ra to be incredibly relatable. Too bad he didn’t have the head of a catfish instead. I turned to the woman beside me with questioning eyes, “I’m assuming this mural was chosen for a reason. How does it relate to the goddess, Hathor?”

She gave me a toothy grin. “You’re very astute. Hathor was the wife of Ra and his defender. She was also known as the divine mother of Pharaohs. She’s often referenced as the Eye of Ra…” she said as her small hand moved to point at another prominent figure in the mural.

“The sun disc on her crown is often represented as an eye…she joins Ra on the voyage, stealthily surveilling for signs of danger from Apophis.”

I had to laugh to myself given I had just been drawing parallels between Mya and Hathor and myself and Ra. It almost seemed like a cruel joke. I half wondered if Benny had set this up as payback for threatening his Indiana Jones fantasies.

My attention shifted back to the woman, still giving her a gentle smile, “Well, that was a riveting history lesson. I wasn’t expecting to learn something new when I walked through the door.”

The woman smiled up at me, flushing slightly as her eyes scanned my face. She held out her hand, “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself before I started rambling. I’m Emily, head Archivist.”

I shook her hand, “Frankie Morales…and not a problem. It was interesting, really.”

Her eyes widened slightly, “Oh, Mr. Morales…Miss Carnahan said you might be stopping by.”

My brows pinched together as she turned and motioned for me to follow her. I never said I would be stopping by…

I followed behind Emily, watching as she pulled out her phone, furiously texting as she shuffled through the building. We eventually came to a long hallway with two very large ornately carved oak doors at the end. She turned toward me with a timid smile, not looking at me directly.

“Miss Carnahan’s office is just through those doors. She’s expecting you.”

She gave me a small head nod before disappearing in the direction we had come. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, noting her odd dismissal before making my way to the double doors and feeling my stomach flutter slightly.

When I entered, the sheer size of the space took me off guard. There were floor to ceiling shelves covered in books on every wall, small tables with scrolls and books stacked haphazardly, and a large wooden desk with two leather wingback chairs in front of it. The same large columns found throughout the building separated the space into smaller sections. My eyes finally drifted to Mya, who was leaning over a large wooden table covered in maps, documents, and more books. Her attention was intently focused on whatever she was looking at.

I ambled toward her, taking in the curve of her ass in the tight black leather-like pants she was wearing. Her loose and flowy black satin blouse draped over her torso with the front of it tucked in. It had a dangerously low v-neckline that framed a gold medallion necklace hanging between her barely covered breasts. Her hair was twisted up into a messy bun, held in place with what looked like a pencil? She was barefooted, having abandoned the very tall strappy heels that sat nearby. She had dark rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose as she shuffled some pages around.

She looked like a fucking dream. The words from the passage I had read, manipulative and seductive, passed through my mind again. I needed to watch myself with her. It already felt like she had some sort of power over me, and I was pretty sure my dick was taking the lead on submitting to it. Maybe Pope was right. Maybe I did need to get laid - by someone other than her just so I could get it out of my system.

She peered up at me over the top of her glasses, still leaning forward and causing her low neckline to hang loosely from her body, which revealed the curve of her breast. She definitely wasn’t wearing a bra. My brain must have short circuited over the sight, because I had apparently stopped several feet in front of her, staring like an idiot.

Her brows arched as she smirked at me and stood upright, “It’s good to see you Mr. Morales. I wondered if you would be stopping by today.”

I cleared my throat, “How did you know I wouldn’t just call?”

She reached up and pulled the pencil from her hair, shaking the silky looking strands loose as they fell around her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it as she approached me with a teasing look, “Something told me this was a conversation you would wanna have in person.”

I diverted my eyes, trying my hardest not to look at her chest as she fiddled with her hair. My gaze landed on her bare feet, realizing her toes were painted a deep red color. It felt strangely intimate to see her bare feet. My attention was drawn away from them by her chuckle as she stopped in front of me, “You see something you like Mr. Morales?”

I choked out a laugh, “I just think it’s funny you’re walking around barefooted. You seem a little too…sophisticated…to do something like that.”

She was still giving me that fucking smirk when my eyes finally met hers. I now realized they were the deepest shade of blue, like sapphires. I could easily get lost in them.

“I apologize; my feet were killing me. It’s been a long day already…but, you have a lot to learn about me, Mr. Morales. I’m only sophisticated when the occasion calls for it,” she finally said.

She enunciated the word ‘sophisticated’ in a mocking tone, like it was a joke.

I smirked back at her, “Excuse me. My mistake. I guess I do have a lot to learn…how about we start with how you seem to know so much about me and my team? Have you been spying on us?”

She was smiling now. Not the least bit embarrassed at having been caught. She took off her glasses, rolling her shoulders back as she tilted her chin upward, almost defiantly, to look me directly in the eye. Her expression shifted to something more serious.

“I needed to be sure I could trust you. Can I trust you…Frankie?”

The fact that she called me ‘Frankie’ didn’t go unnoticed. She said it with what I could only describe as vulnerability. She was attempting to create familiarity between us. It was a manipulation tactic. I couldn’t help smiling, I was on to her.

“You can if you cut out the manipulation bullshit. I’ll be as straight with you as you are with me. Otherwise, I can play the game just as well as you can.”

She smiled briefly, before turning serious again. “Touché… Alright, fine. Serious question though, can I trust you? If I can’t…this stops here.”

My brows furrowed. What did she really expect me to say? No? “Of course. I take my job seriously.”

She stared at me for a beat, like she was trying to make a decision. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she nodded slightly, “Ok…Does this mean you’re taking the job then?”

I scoffed, “No. It doesn’t. You still haven’t answered all my questions.”

Her shoulders dropped, “Yes, I was watching you. I have been for weeks. I needed to make sure you could handle this…and that you won’t fuck me over.”

I snorted out a laugh and tried not to be distracted by her saying the words ‘fuck me’. “So, I guess we passed your assessment then? What the hell is this, Mya? What are you trying to get us mixed up in?”

She inhaled deeply, “If you accept the job, I’ll answer any questions you have.”

I rolled my eyes, “Ok, let’s start with…who’s paying for it?”

Her mouth fell open slowly before she answered, “I told you; it’s funded by donations. That’s all you need to know.”

I shook my head, “How the hell am I supposed to trust you when you can’t answer that basic question?”

She rubbed her hands together as her eyes wandered around the room to avoid mine, “I swear, I’ll answer any question you have aside from that one. I’ve been asked not to share that information…I gave my word, and I plan to stick to it. You can respect that, right?”

I did have to respect that. I stood there with my hands on my hips, trying to get a read on her. She seemed more sincere at this moment than she had been so far.

“I swear, if at any point, you need to know who it is…I’ll tell you. Right now, it’s not a need to know,” she added.

I sighed and nodded as I rubbed at the back of my neck, “Ok…fine. I need you to be honest with me if this is gonna work. No secrets…aside from that one…I guess. I need to know what kind of risks we’re up against. Don’t be jerking me around…this could get dangerous. People could die.”

She nodded, “I know…and that’s why I want the best looking out for my team. They’re all good people…in it for the right reasons. I need for them to be safe.”

There was something in her tone. It was almost anxious and weary. Her mask of confidence was slipping.

“You’re people? And what about you? You need to be safe too,” I said.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I can take care of myself. I’m not worried about me. I’m hiring you to protect them.”

I felt my stomach turn sour over her words. Something told me she probably needed the most protection out of all of them, but I knew she would never admit to it if I asked.

I sighed, “I can get you a team of 15 guys, with three pilots for the full three months. You’re looking at 2 million…and that’s not covering the air assets or supplies.”

Her eyes narrowed on me, “Are you one of the three pilots?” I nodded in affirmation. She seemed almost relieved before continuing.

“If I make it four mil to start and put you in charge of securing the assets and supplies that your team needs, will that work?”

My head was spinning. Is she for real? Against my better judgement, I made my decision. My jaw ticked, “Alright. We’ll do it. Now I need you to tell me what the fuck I’m signing up for.”

Her lips curled upward into a brilliant smile as some of the tension left her body, her facade dropping some. She motioned toward the table for me to follow her, “What I’m about to tell you…no one else knows the full context of it. I’m trusting that it will stay between you and me. You can’t even tell your team. None of them. You got it?”

I was a little taken aback by that, but I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll keep it between us.”

Her eyes roamed my face, analyzing and calculating, seeming satisfied before continuing.

“What do you know about the lost Incan city Paititi?”

I shrugged, biting back a laugh, “Is that like…El Dorado?” There’s no way she’s serious.

She sighed, “Umm, some researchers conflate the two…but to me, no. It’s two different things. El Dorado is more mythical. That name gets slapped on any legend that mentions a city of gold. However, some people refer to Paititi as El Dorado, but the city itself did actually exist from what history tells us. It’s not myth.”

I nodded along, still trying to keep a straight face. She huffed air out of her cheeks, “I can tell you think I’m crazy. Just…let me explain. OK?”

I gave her a polite smile, “OK. Explain. What makes you think you can find Paititi?”

She hesitated. I arched my eyebrows, waiting for her to continue. She began to shuffle through the mess of documents and books on the table, pausing to grab a worn leather-bound journal.

“This is the part I need for you to keep to yourself…”

I drew an ‘x’ over my heart, “I promise. Not a word.”

I could tell whatever she was about to say was a big deal, to her at least. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing.

“In 2001, a researcher found a manuscript in the Vatican archives that went into detail about the location of Paititi. It had been dated to around 1600 and was written based on the word of a Jesuit missionary. It described a city filled with gold, silver, and gemstones located in the middle of the Amazon jungle. It was initially dismissed as being unreliable third-hand information, so it didn’t get much attention.”

Ok, this is getting a little more interesting. “Alright, so, why does any of that matter if it was found to be unreliable?”

She hesitated again, then smiled nervously. I couldn’t help thinking how adorable she was like this, in researcher mode. As if to prove my point, she slid her glasses back on, then gathered her hair to one shoulder as she flipped through the journal. My eyes were briefly drawn to the curve of her neck as she searched the pages and began to speak.

“Well, the document was eventually moved to the Vatican’s secret archives… which is the Pope’s private collection. It was no longer accessible to the public. A lot of the information has since been lost or misconstrued over time…until now.”

She slid the journal toward me, taped inside were high quality images of some old documents - pages of them.

I glanced up at her, “Is this?”

I couldn’t finish my sentence, but she knew what I was asking. Nodding as she continued, “Yes. It is. And the thing is, there were more pages than originally thought…and I have them. All of them. No one knows about the extra pages. You’re the only person I’ve told. As far as anyone else is concerned, I’m going off previously released information.”

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, “So, why are you telling me this?”

She seemed unsure of herself as she met my gaze, “I knew you wouldn’t go into this blindly…that you would need proof. You also have skills that I’ll need to rely on…it helps if you know what you’re looking for. You might see something that I don’t…aerial searches aren’t exactly in my area of expertise.”

Things were beginning to come together now. While I was still nervous about taking this on, I was confident she wasn’t setting a trap.

My brows pinched together, “Aerial searches?”

She nodded, “Yes. I have a general idea of the location…but it's still a jungle. It’s gonna be camouflaged by hundreds of years of overgrowth. I need your eyes, Frankie…and your navigation skills. So, I’m trusting you with the Vatican documents.”

A thought struck me suddenly, prompting me to ask, “How did you get those documents anyway?”

She gave me a cocky grin, “I dropped in from the duct work, Mission Impossible style, and took them while the Pope slept.”

I snorted out a laugh, “And you’re also full of shit.”

She grimaced, “So, I may have fibbed. That’s another one of those things you don’t need to know…but that should be the last one...I think.”

I felt my jaw tighten and my nostrils flare in frustration as I gave her an admonishing look. “You’re already pissing me off and we haven’t even started yet…”

She gave me a nervous smile, “Sorry. I’m just keeping my word.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, Ok.” I could already tell; she was going to be difficult to deal with.

I puffed air out of my cheeks, placing my hands on the table and leaning forward to inspect the images. “So what language is this? What does it say?”

Mya moved in closer, the length of her body nearly pressing into me as she leaned down to look at the documents with me.

“It’s Latin. This one is a papal authorization to evangelize the city…meaning the Pope did in fact send missionaries.”

She paused, leaning in just a little closer to turn the page and allowing her vanilla and jasmine scent to surround me. Her proximity made it hard to focus on the images in front of me as she began to speak again, “This page documents a ten-day trip by foot between Cuzco and Paititi made by the Inca…there’s a note from the Jesuits indicating that detailed clues should be withheld to avoid a gold rush on the city, but somebody messed up. There was a map that made its way into the collection. It was filed separately, so it wasn’t found by the original researcher…but it has been now.”

She pointed to the image she was referencing. It was indeed a map…a very hard to read map.

“Obviously the landscape has changed since then, but hopefully…between the two of us…we can figure this out.”

I turned my head to glance over at her, our noses inches apart as we locked eyes. I felt a sudden electricity sparking between us that had my skin buzzing and heart racing. I noticed her eyes briefly dropped to my lips before our attention was drawn to the heavy oak door of her office opening.

When I shifted to face the door, I was met with a set of dark eyes and furrowed brows staring at us. The man with greasy looking slicked back hair and a scowl didn’t seem too happy to see me. I almost felt like he was sizing me up and ready to attack at any given second.

Mya’s aura shifted, her jaw clenching as she shot daggers at him with her eyes. I noticed her hand moving to slide some loose papers over top of the journal as she spoke with a forced politeness, “Veracruz, I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here?”

She now seemed uncomfortable. I watched as his scowl shifted to an almost unnerving smile as he replied in a thick Spanish accent, “I just came to check in with you and see how everything is going with the planning.”

Her nostrils flared as she regarded him, “I see. Well…we’ll catch up just as soon as I’m finished with this meeting. You can wait in the conference room.”

I stood to my full height and crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the need to take up more space as he glanced my way. He gave me a cocky smirk before giving a small nod and exiting the room. Something told me he was going to be a problem.

Mya smiled weakly, “Sorry about that. I hate when people interrupt meetings.”

I eyed her, waiting for her to say more on the subject, but she didn’t. Instead, she was back to business, “Well, since you’ve officially agreed…I’ll start gathering all the documents you guys will need and putting plans and contracts into writing. We’ll get back together to go over the finer details once everything is set.”

I nodded, “Sounds like a plan. Can’t wait.”

I watched as she picked up the journal and moved toward one of the stone columns that separated the table from the office space. She squatted down, then pushed in on the flat square part of the base, causing a small drawer to pop out. She lifted a lid and slid the journal inside, then pulled her necklace off, manipulating it in some way to turn it into a key. She quickly locked the lid shut before closing the compartment. I never would have guessed that the compartment existed if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. It was completely undetectable.

She eyed me as she stood and returned the chain around her neck, “I’m trusting you. No one else knows about that.”

I huffed out a small laugh, “Wow…OK. I guess we’re gettin’ into some Indiana Jones type shit.”

She chuckled, “You have no idea…come on. I’ll walk you out.”

As I walked beside her to the main exit of the building, I couldn’t help asking, “Why the goddess Hathor?”

Her eyes cut toward me as she smirked, “I admire her skill set.”

She didn’t elaborate, but I could take a guess as to what she meant. Once we reached the exit, I turned toward her, reaching out to shake her hand. “I guess we’re doing this. I look forward to working with you, Miss Carnahan.”

She gave me a polite smile as she took my hand and gave it a firm shake, “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Morales.”

Her smile shifted to a smirk as she watched me leave. I couldn’t be sure how long her eyes were on me, but I swear I could feel them burning into me until I pulled out of the empty lot.

My head was reeling as I drove toward the office. I wasn’t sure what I was going to tell the guys. I guess the only thing I had to omit were the documents. I hated keeping something from them, but like Mya, I always kept my word. For some crazy reason, she was trusting me, and I didn’t want to break it. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy though. I could already tell she was going to be a handful. I still needed to be careful with her. It was obvious she had a penchant for deception. I just wasn’t sure in what way.

I would be lying if I said part of me wasn’t hoping she would open up to me more…become something more. She had this magnetism about her that I couldn’t seem to resist, and I knew it was probably going to get me in trouble. I almost welcomed it, but I was also hoping she didn’t become my new addiction. I had to remind myself to keep this professional - that she was off limits to me too.

Mya’s POV I stood watching Frankie’s broad frame walking toward his truck through the windows. The more I got to know him, the more intrigued I became. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this. He was observant and intuitive. There was something about the way he looked at me, like he could see through all my bullshit. He did basically call me out on it right away. I didn’t know how to handle him going forward. All I knew was that I needed him to trust me, realizing that having him on my side could work in my favor if things went south and that he might even be the key to finding Paititi.

My thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps, heavy footfalls encased in rubber soles. They came to a stop just behind me as the familiar sandalwood and musk scent invaded my nostrils.

“I thought I told you to wait in the conference room?” I asked before turning to face Veracruz’s stupidly handsome and smirking face.

He shrugged, “I wanted to make sure there were no problems.”

I arched a questioning brow. He was beyond transparent, letting his jealousy show at the mere sight of me talking to another man. I really hoped this wouldn’t become a problem. “We’re all good here.”

His eyes briefly shifted to the window before coming back to me, “Who was that? Anyone we need to be concerned about?”

I shook my head, “No. He’s actually the owner of the personal security firm I’m hiring for the expedition. So…I’m gonna need you to play nice with him. No arguing or questioning his methods. He’s in charge. Got it?”

He gave me a disgruntled look, “You should just let me handle it…”

I looked around, realizing this was not the place to talk to him. “I need you to go to the conference room, like I told you to do. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He sighed, nodding in agreement as he turned to head that way. I watched him go, making sure he did what he was told. He was such a loose cannon. I never knew what to expect from him.

Minutes later I found Emily in her office to let her know that I would be unavailable for the rest of the afternoon unless a limited few special people happened to show up. I didn’t want to risk anyone else inadvertently seeing Veracruz. She gave me a thumbs up as she reached to answer the phone. I mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before walking away.

When I entered the conference room, Veracruz was fiddling with a astrolabe displayed on a nearby table, nearly knocking it over when he heard the door open behind him. I gave him a very unamused glare as he righted it.

“What the hell are you doing here? We had an agreement…”

He placed his right hand on his chest, “I’m sorry, cariño. Collazo wanted me to check in with you and see where we are with preparations.”

I was fuming. I could feel the heat rushing to my face as anger continued to build, “I don’t care. Collazo nor any of his men are to step foot in this building. I refuse to be implicated in whatever he’s gotten mixed up with.”

He approached me, much like one would approach a scared animal, hands up in surrender and talking quietly. “I was careful. I came through the back. Not a soul saw me.”

I huffed out of frustration, “No one saw you? Frankie saw you. Then you waltzed out into the lobby like you own the place just because you can’t help yourself. Anyone could have walked in...”

His shoulders dropped, “Please forgive me. You are right. I should not have done that. However, Frankie is going to see me eventually anyway, right? So, that does not count.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, now feeling a headache coming on, “You shouldn’t be here at all. We could have set something up.”

He was crowding my space now, placing his hand on my cheek. “I’m sorry. I did not want to wait to see you. I have missed you. Let me make it up to you.”

I sighed, stepping away from him. Now that Damien was out of the picture, Veracruz wasn’t even trying to hide his feelings for me. I entertained his advances to a point, just so I could maintain my influence over him, but I still didn’t know how far that would get me if his neck was on the line. It was a delicate dance between us that was becoming much more complicated as he was not so subtly begging for more.

It’s not like it wasn’t tempting. Veracruz looked like sex on two legs and had been very attentive toward me. He went through great lengths to look after me when I was recovering from Collazo’s mini torture session several months ago. I had no question that he would probably be an amazing lover, but I knew he would only suck me further into the life that I was desperately trying to get away from.

“You can’t keep saying things like that to me,” I replied.

He gave me a soft smile, “Why? Because you like it? I will win you over eventually.”

I shook my head, “No. I’ve already told you…it’s a bad idea…”

It was his turn to shake his head, “I do not think so. Collazo would welcome it. He would trust you again.”

I peered up at him with an empathetic gaze, “That may be true, but I’m trying to get away from that lifestyle, Veracruz. I can’t do that if I’m with you.”

He looked deflated, “I understand, but that does not change how I feel. I cannot help it.”

I turned away from him, needing to change the subject. “Why does Collazo want you to check in?”

He began to pace the room, inspecting all the knickknacks on display. “You know how he is…it is more about control. He wants to remind you who is really in charge and make sure you are doing what you need to.”

I nodded, “Of course, I figured. Well…you can report back that we’re on track with the plan. Nothing has changed…and I’ll be ready on the set date.”

He turned toward me, “I had not planned to tell him anything different, no matter your answer. I am trying to keep him off your back as much as possible.”

I gave him a soft smile, “I do appreciate that. Thank you.”

An awkward silence stretched between us. I really was beginning to hate being alone with him. Not because I disliked him, but because I felt like I had to manage him and his expectations every second that we were together. It was exhausting.

I sucked in a sharp breath, “Well, I have things I need to attend to. If that’s all you needed…”

He gave me a tight smile, “Of course. We will be in touch soon.”

He moved to exit but paused to look back at me when I called his name.

“Please make sure you’re not seen when you leave,” I reminded him. With another curt nod, he was gone.

I spent the remainder of my afternoon preparing the contract and instructions for Frankie, being careful as to what I put in writing. There were some things that he was just going to have to memorize. It was too risky to have the information floating around. I made a mental checklist of what those things needed to be as I packed up and headed home for the evening.

As soon as I got home, I changed into my workout clothes, wrapped my knuckles, and made my way to the punching bag in my home gym. I really needed to blow off some steam. The last two days had left me feeling on edge and conflicted about how I was handling everything.

Veracruz randomly showing up at the gallery without warning had taken my anxiety over the top. I didn’t really know how I was going to manage him through this whole thing. I could only assume his advances would continue once we were in the jungle. He was becoming more brazen each time we were together. I needed to keep him close without crossing the line, it had to stay professional. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could walk that line without repercussions.

Frankie had taken me completely off guard. I had seen pictures of him and watched him from a distance but seeing him up close was an entirely different experience. The second I walked into Delta 5 Security Solutions the previous day; he had my attention. It was almost like I could feel his piercing dark eyes burning into my flesh. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I did well to keep my cool and reel him in, but internally I was a mess as I stood across from him in his office.

Sure, he was a little disheveled and had the whole tortured soul vibe about him, but there was something sort of beautiful and poetic about him too. He was much bigger than I had realized, his broad shoulders seeming to stretch on forever. The way his arms and chest flexed in the tight grey t-shirt he had been wearing today definitely couldn’t be ignored. Even with his aquiline nose and messy curls, he was handsome in sort of a boyish type of way. That was only emphasized when I drew a laugh from him earlier today, causing his cheek to dimple. And the way he smelled, gods, it was amazing. It was an enticing mixture of leather, summer nights, and man.

He seemed like a decent person with good intentions. If I wasn’t careful, there was a real possibility he could be trouble for me - as in causing me to fuck up and let my guard down. He completely saw through me today. He knew what I was doing before I had even tried it. He was definitely going to be harder to bend to my will. However, some part of my brain was telling me there was a real possibility that he might submit willingly if I did the same for him. I really thought I had met my match in Damien, but Frankie might turn out to be the biggest adventure yet.

Chapter 3: So it Begins

✨If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to shoot me a DM or leave a comment.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! I hope you enjoyed chapter two. We got some fun stuff with the guys this chapter. They are already giving Frankie hell over Mya. We got to see some of their dynamics and how life is post money-gate. They are definitely looking to Frankie more as a leader these days. Pope is still Popeing and the Millers are just along for the ride.

We finally got Frankie and Mya together. How are we feeling about their dynamics so far? They are definitely both feeling each other out. Frankie is already smitten and Mya is getting there. That doesn't mean they are immediately going to jive though. They will be bumping heads, a lot. Then of course, we have added Veracruz to the mix. He and Frankie have already begun their pissing match.

Now for the nerdy stuff...

Vatican Documents: The Vatican document about Paititi is a real thing! It's discovery in 2001 really happened and it was indeed removed from public access. I've obviously taken some liberties with those 'extra pages' but this is where our adventure begins. I'll continue to share some of these little tidbits with you as we go along.

Egyptian References: So, some of you probably know I'm a huge history nerd. At one point I did want to be an archeologist/Egyptologist. With Egypt being my favorite ancient civilization, I couldn't help squeezing some of that stuff in. There is no funny business here. We are not getting into any reincarnation story lines or anything like that. I just thought it would be fun to draw some parallels between the god of the sky and Frankie and the goddess of Love and Mya because they have similar traits. And well, Ra and Hathor were together. Their story may have some foreshadowing elements, just to make things more interesting. 😏

Please feel free to sound off with your thoughts and predictions. You know I love to hear them! Especially as our adventure starts to pick up.

💜Mysty

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@auteurdelabre @avastrasposts @biggetywitch @bitchwitch1981 @bluestar22x

@bunniboo0015 @burntheedges @captainredspade @chaoticfestninja @cheekychaos28

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #reblog love

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 days ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

For my sanity and cause people have been asking... here's a wip of the Found Family Book Club fic I'm working on: ---

No sex for three weeks.

“That’s part of the fun though, isn’t it dear?” The wicked spark in Stede’s eye told Ed that his goldenlocked husband had much more planned than just a simple “book club party”.

For as long as Ed had known Stede, the eccentric blonde had been hosting weekly book club meetings at his ridiculously sized house with their “extended family”, also known as “The Revenge Crew”, also known as a bunch of Book Club Queers that Stede had somewhat adopted.

“You’re a proper fucking maniac, you know that?” Ed tied his just below shoulder length salt and pepper hair into a messy ponytail, staring down at the fancy Barnes & Nobles special edition of “Pride & Prejudice” planted on his lap.

Ed propped himself up lengthwise on the bedroom loveseat, because, of course they had a love seat in their bedroom, what else would you expect of Stede Bonnet, executive of one of the biggest textile companies in the country? Stede, his gorgeous, talented, brilliant husband who was staring into the full length bronze framed mirror, trying desperately to get his curls to behave while they chatted. Spoilers, they never behaved.

Calloused fingertips from years of hard labor and artwork traced the ornate raised edges of the book’s cover. He could appreciate good craftsmanship, it was pretty obvious just by the design that someone had really poured their soul into the silly cover.

“Yeah, but babe, I thought you said no more romance novels.”

The yelp that escaped the blonde looking in the mirror left Ed grinning.

Right on queue.

“Edward!” Stede’s voice cracked and went up an octave like it always did when he was offended. Fucking adorable bastard. “Take that back! Pride & Predjiduce is not a romance novel, it’s a CLASSIC! There’s a difference!”

Ed raised his long lashes upward towards his husband’s now disgruntled, incredibly expressive face as he sat down at the end of the love seat where Ed’s bare toes wiggled playfully.

Oh, Ed knew that. Edward Teach knew a lot of things. Most of all, he knew that a little tease like that would get Stede’s blood moving, and it wouldn’t take much to entice his little goldfish into something a bit more romantic.

“I mean, yeah, Outlander’s technically not a romance novel either, it's a time traveling– fantasy–whatever, but we sure as hell won’t be reading ‘Dragonfly in Amber’ aloud with the group anytime soon now, will we?”

Stede blushed at the memory. His husband’s blushes weren’t just pink, they were splattered and chaotic– like someone’d dipped a wide headed brush in the softest of rose colored paint and dry brushed it across his nose and the tips of his ears.

Lucius and Pete had gotten pretty animated with their reenactment of some of the end scenes of the first Diana Gabaldon book, and Stede had to break them up once the various couple/throuples started getting handsy with each other.

The pure commotion that ensued from that night had left a very inebriated Ed at a level of laughter that just couldn’t be contained, which only worsened as Stede shoved frilly throw pillows in front of people’s crotches while shooing the hooping and wailing drunken friends out the door to their car-shares.

Ed remembered it quite vividly given the state of his rum-hazed brain. Stede had stomped back into the house, rounding the corner from their entranceway, looking as dashing as always, if not mildly perturbed. He’d dusted off his hands as if he could wipe away the image of Pete quite literally trying to go down on Lucius’ through his pants, out of his mind. His eyes had locked with Ed’s, who tried to hold in the laugh, but instead exploded in a sonic boom of a gufaw. Rolling up his sleeves, Stede had trudged up to him with these piercing, fiery, “Oh you’re going to get it” eyes. Gods, watching the fabric rolling up those adonis sculpted forearms was enough to finally break him of his giggle fit, pleasantly satisfied in Stede making good on the promise his eyes had made.

10/10, no notes.

Best. Book. Club. Ever.

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#wip wednesday #gentlebeard #stede bonnet #edward teach #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd fic #blackbonnet

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eddiesmunsxn · 2 days ago

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I love you, goodbye

pairing; eddie munson x reader

content warning ⚠️: crying, character death. sorry 😕

Summary: Eddie thought that cutting the rope was a good idea to buy everyone more time. He looked up to where you and Dustin were. Screaming his name, wanting him to come back. But, what he didn't know was that he wasn't going to make it.

Writers note; i hope you enjoy this. im going to try my best to make it make sense, anyways enjoy!

March 1986

You sat in Max's trailer with the group, going over the plan on how you will defeat Vecna. The plan was for you, Dustin, and Eddie to distract the bats. That way, Nancy, Robin, and Steve could get to Vecna himself. Max, Lucas, and Erica were going inside Victor Creels' house. This should be simple. Right? Or so you thought.

Nancy: "No one goes into the next phase until it's clear, got it? Okay. Let's go over the plan one more time." Nancy looked to Dustin: "Make sure that you three distract the bats. And nothing else. " Dustin and Eddie nod, clear of what they're going to do. But you, you weren't listening.

Instead, you sat with your head in your hands, terrified of what's to come. You felt an arm on your shoulder. It was Eddie. He looked at you with a smile. "Are you okay? "No, I'm terrified. What if you, Max, or Dustin doesn't make it? I can't - " He covers your mouth for you to stop talking. "Y/n sweetheart. We will all survive this and make it out alive. Okay?" You nod, "Yeah you're right." You let out a big sigh. Not knowing what's to come.

You gathered in the RV. Firstly, dropping off Lucas, Max, and Erica at Victor Creels. Steve drove away, making you look back as the house disappeared in the distance.

Next, to Forest Hills Trailer Park. It felt like forever driving to Eddies trailer. You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing it'd be the only way to calm you down.

Steve slowed down and stopped. You all got out. You stopped in the doorway of the RV, face pale. Eddie noticed and turned around. "Y/n? What's the matter?" You look at him: "I'm not sure if I can do this. I need to know that we will win this, and the nightmares of this town will all be over." He looks at you, sadness and fear in his eyes. You know he's just as terrified as you are. The whole town hates him, and he's wanted for murder, for a murder he didn't do. So, you understand why he's terrified.

Dustin walks to where you two are: "You guys ready?" Yn looks at him." "Aren't you terrified, Dustin?" He nodded: "Yeah, but we got this, okay?" He puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You nod. Dustin always had a way of cheering you up, he was like the younger brother that you never had. He always looked up to you.

Steve; "Hey." He stops you three, "Don't try to hero's, okay?" You and Dustin smiled, and Eddie snickered, "Look at us, we are not heroes." Steve nods and starts to walk away, but Eddie stops him. "Hey Steve? Make him pay." Steve nods and walks off to Nancy and Robin.

As you three watch them walk away, you grab the tools that you need to bolt up the trailer to keep the bats from getting inside.

After that, you stand in front of the trailer, looking into the distance. Millions of thoughts running through your head. Images of Eddie and Dustin dying. You shake the nauseating feeling off, turning back to the two boys. "Okay, let's go." Dustin smiles. Eddie pats his shoulder, "Ready for the fun part?" And with that, you follow them inside the trailer, and into Eddie's room. Memories of you and Eddie together, but you know... without the darkness and vines.

Eddie saw his guitar, you remember watching him and his band play at the Hideout. "It's like she was destined for alternate dimension." Dustin watches in awe, and so do you. Eddie looks between you two "What do you say, are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?" You smile and nod. Dustin "Is that a rhetorical question?" Eddie slings that guitar around him, "Let's do it!"

And with that, you three are standing on top of the Munson trailer, ready to distract the bats with music. Dustin amps up the speaker "Let's hope they hear this." And Eddie takes his guitar pick that was around his neck and goes over to kiss your cheek. You smile and hug him.

Eddie takes the pick and says "Chrissy, this is for you." Knowing Chrissy died a horrible death, this was a good way to honor her.

He starts playing Master of Puppets by Metallica, one of his favorites. You and Dustin watch, as red lightning flashes all around you.

As Eddie is still playing, you notice a hoard of bats flying in the distance towards you three. Dustin notices this too. He yells to Eddie as he is finishing up. "10 seconds!!" Eddie nods.

As the song is over, you don't see Dustin or Eddie. "EDDIE? DUSTIN? WHERE ARE YOU?" But they made into the trailer before you, Eddie put his hand out for you to take. Instead, you slapped him on the back of the head. He yelped "Ouch! What was that for?" You looked at him "You two were supposed to wait for me." Dustin nervously laughs "Oops." He then realizes something "Did you cover another window so the bats couldn't get in?" He looked at Eddie, but knowing that look on his face, it was a no. "Come on, we need to hurry, we don't have a lot of time." You walked into where the gate opening is, followed by Eddie and Dustin. You hear the bats getting closer. You looked to Dustin "Hey, you go first, me and Eddie will be right behind you." He nods and climbs the rope, making it to the other side safely. You look to Eddie who is looking to where the noise of the bats is "Hey, c'mon, we need to get out of here. It's not safe."

He looks at you "Go, I'm right behind you." You grab the rope, pulling yourself up and through the worlds, safely landing on your back on the mattress. Dustin helps you up. "Where's Eddie?" You look confused "He said we was right behind me." You both look to the opening and see Eddie about to climb the rope. Dustin shouts "HEY, EDDIE COME ON. LET'S GO." You see that he's not moving. "Eddie! Hey, come on. Climb the rope. Please." He looks at you two, bringing the sword up and then... your heart drops at what he did. He cut the rope.

"EDDIE WHAT THE HELL, WHAT'RE YOU DOING??" Dustin is shouting no over and over again. He looks up to you, and looking into your eyes he says, "I love you." You start crying, and yell for him again. He says that he's buying more time. But why? If he made it through the gate, everything would be fine!

Eddie disappears, ignoring both yours and Dustin's calls to come back. Dustin looks at you, tears in his eyes. "What're we going to do? We can't just let him do this alone." "Dustin, hey, hey, calm down. Eddie will be okay, I mean, it's Eddie we're talking about." He nods and says, "We need to go make sure he's okay though." You want to say no that it's too dangerous, but you know that he's right.

"Okay, go grab some chairs and I'll help you through." He does so, and goes through the gate, landing on his ankle. He yelps in pain.

"Dustin! Are you okay?" "Y-yeah, I think I broke my ankle." You climb onto the chairs, and make it through the gate, landing on your back.

You go to Dustin "Here, wrap your arm around my neck." He does so, and you look around the trailer. "Which direction did you see Eddie go in?" Dustin points "That way."

EDDIE'S POV

I cut the rope. I can't believe I just did that. Dustin and Y/n were yelling at me to come back, but I just ignored them. Oh god, Y/n is going to be so mad at me.

I make it out of the trailer, it's so dark, and cold. There are vines everywhere. And lightning flashing in the sky. Dustin was not kidding about this place. I hear screeching in the distance, it's the bats. They're getting closer. So, I run. I try to fight the bats off as best that I can, but more start to come and surround me.

And then, I felt pain. The bats surrounded me. I am on the ground, screaming in agony.

Back to Y/n and Dustin's POV

Dustin is limping next to you, and you're looking everywhere, for your boyfriend. You're so angry at him, but you're scared that something bad happened to him. Just then, Dustin started shouting "EDDIE!" And you look in the direction he is limping towards.

Your heart drops. You run past Dustin and to Eddie. He is lying on the ground, blood coats his body. "Oh, my goodness." You kneel next to him and so does Dustin. Dustin lays Eddie on his lap and looks down at him. He looks up to Dustin "I d-didn't run away t-this time, right?" Dustin shakes his head "No, you didn't."

Dustin tries to pull Eddie up, but Eddie groans in pain "No-no it's no use Henderson, I won't make it through the gate." And with tears in his eyes "Y-you need to look after those lost sheep f-for me and you n-need to look after Y/n t-too."

Y/n sits next to Dustin, silently crying to herself. And Dustin looks to her, with a hand on her shoulder.

She's angry at him for not listening to her, and it got him in this position.

Eddie weakly says, "Y/n.. l-look a-at me." And you do. But your heart churns at the sight of your boyfriend, all bloodied and weak.

"I need you t-to do me a favor. Find W-Wayne and t-tell him that I'm sorry. For e-everything that I put him through." You shake your head."No, you are going to do it yourself because you're going to make it. We are going to get you to the hospital, and we're going to clear your name."

But it's no use. He's getting weaker by the minute. You can tell by the look in his eyes.

"I love you, man." He tells Dustin, and Dustin sobs."I love you too."*

"I love you, Y/n. Thank you f-for always believing in me, when I d-didn't believe in myself." You nod your head."Of course. You needed someone like me by your side to keep you sane." You chuckle.

A few minutes later, Eddie took his last breath. A single tear going down his cheeks. You hold Dustin as he cries. "We need to go. We can't stay here."

Dustin wants to say no, but he knows that you're right. It's not safe. "What do we do with him? We can't just leave him in the open." "Let's move him behind that car."

And so, you and Dustin slowly move Eddies body behind a car. You kissed his forehead one last time.

Dustin makes his way through the gate, landing softly on the mattress as well as you. Steve, Nancy, and Robin, we're all waiting. "What took you guys so long?" Dustin looks at you before turning back to the three teens who have very concerned looks on their faces.

"Why are you both covered in blood? And where is Eddie?" You realized your hands had his blood on them, and so did your clothes, as well as Dustins.

Nancy's eyes widen as she looks at Steve and Robin, and then to you,"Y/n/n? He didn't make it, did he?" You shake your head no as you start crying. Robin and Nancy hug you as Steve hugs Dustin.

A FEW DAYS LATER.

After the incidents that had happened, Hawkins police declared it an earthquake. And that everyone in need of clothes and food, we're welcome to go to Hawkins High School.

Eddies name was finally cleared. Of course, when he "goes missing," which everyone says. They finally say he's innocent. That's bullshit. He went through too much.

Y/n and Wayne talked, Wayne didn't understand a thing you said obviously. But he was heartbroken that his nephew had to go through that. He believed he was innocent all along. Eddie wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone kill someone.

The end.

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #Spotify

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un-pearable · 2 years ago

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in which zane did not know before he died

remembered this very old au concept i’ve had since i was tiny watching ninjago for the first time… it completely unravels everything i enjoy about zane in the early seasons and i refuse to think of the necessary rewrites atm but i needed to make at least this one scene exist. can an au be naught but a single panel that makes me Sad?

#ninjago #zane ninjago #cole ninjago #tournament of elements #art✨#loadbearing nindroid #notorious s4 enjoyer makes sad s4 content for first time. this has lingered in the back of my mind for a literal decade probably #lettering makes me too powerful bc now i can get away with all the repetition and exaggerated punctuation that gets clunky in fic form #now it’s Pacing™️ . also why do so many webcomics ditch text bubbles they’re SO fun and emotive #i think i’m gonna play with this quick comic style a little more. all my full comic ideas are more detailed and actually colored but for now #this is fun :] and good for getting the images out of my head and into the world #also why do i keep drawing people from behind it is SO unhelpful #ninjago au #no potential au

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randmwizardpart2 · 3 months ago

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fanart for chapter six of Neath the grove is a heart by @amberqueen01

this scene has lived rent free in my head, so i had to draw it. still pretty rough since i dont have finalized evbo or seawatt designs but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

featuring: seawatt doesn't know where to put his hands, i don't know how evbo fit his wings under that jumper, and I still can't do faces despite drawing for years

#evbo #parkciv #parkour civilization #seawatt #fanart #fic fanart #amberqueen01 #i cant get parkciv out of my head but #i really cant get this fic in particular out of my head #definitley recommend!!!#anyway this evbo has never heard the word hygiene before #and i may do more art of this fic to mess with my evbo design and i love the wings the author decided to give evbo #they match the color scheme!#and this fic has some other good moments that would be fun to draw as well #anywayyyy #just a little piece of art because i could see this image so strongly #not sure im done with it but im calling it for now #my art

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seventh-district · 3 months ago

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“Why’s he call you Darlin’?”

on my knees begging my brain to stop trying to associate this song with Sam

#(it’s too late guys i’ve already added it to a couple playlists. i can’t help it)#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted sam #redacted darlin #rp audio stuff #Seven’s Blorbo Songs #music stuff #i fell down a rabbit hole of music videos on YT last night and decided to give this song a chance based on the title obviously #skipped through all the exposition just to quickly find out if i liked the song or not #and as soon as the first line came in i went head-in-hands at my desk bc i just Knew it was over for me #i hate that i like it #it’s very repetitive and giving strong Modern/Mainstream Pop-Rap-Country vibes #but i’m not too proud to admit that i eat that shit up on occasion #‘You’ve been beatin’ ‘round the bush so much you’re knockin’ off the leaves.’ goes kinda hard tho i’m ngl #‘ole boy in a Ridgeline and i drive a Chevy’ would Sam be a truck elitist? hmm #i doubt it. i see him as too practical-minded to care about brand names and shit like that #like irl i think it’s very silly. and perhaps a little questionable to hate on a ‘foreign’ vehicle. but i don’t even like trucks at all so #insecure country boys and their obsession with big trucks are ruining the road for us regular people that just want a normal ass car #but i’ll stop before i go off on a rant about america’s transportation problems #anyways. i can separate reality from fiction and i love the image of Sam in a beat up beloved old truck. cliché as it may be #getting back on track. my POINT was that the song doesn’t even necessarily fit Sam’s vibes i just. can’t undo the association #been trying to think of a way for it to fit him but that would require Darlin’ to be cheating on him and i don’t like that thought #like i love some types of angst but cheating isn’t one of them #i could view it through the context of being directed at Alexis bc i already hate her lmao but once again it doesn’t fit in canon #and i don’t know how i feel about the thought that he used to call her Darlin’ too. though it’s very possible. mmm angst #not that it has to fit with canon for me to attach a song to a character. certainly not! but i need to make it work in my mind Somehow #and i can’t even come up with a good HC to make this fit. the idea of Jealous!Sam is fun in theory but idk if i’d like it practice anyways #tldr: does this really fit canon Sam? meh. Is it forever tied to him in my mind anyways due to the use of the petname Darlin’? absolutely.#anywho. one of these days i’ll open this app to do something other than vent post or yap abt rp audio blorbos. but that day is not today!

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mrehkka · 1 year ago

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This is a Zim who's universe-hopped (perhaps a zim that made it out of the ZimVoid?) and ends up finding an earth that is zim-less so he sticks around. Dib isn't around anymore in his home universe so it caught him by surprise

Dib is still on his zim-is-sus kick... but he's noticing some differences. Which honestly just makes him more suspicious of him lmao

#invader zim #iz zim #iz dib #zadr #my art #as far as dib knows zim disappeared one day #and now he's back with a legit good human disguise #he's like WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING NOW #if it feels like I have a new au every few days it's bc I listen to music on the bus a lot and it gives me lots of ideas #and I'm trying to sketch every day so it's fun to get those images and thoughts out of my head =D #normally I give zim freckles but I don't think I did that in my past few arts #idk sometimes the brush I switch to doesn't give the right effect for it #this one is very thick for example so it takes a lot of space on the face #I could do the cartoony three or four dots... but I like the more subtle widespread look so 🤷‍♀️

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doodlejoltik · 6 months ago

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my favourite writing device is having an un-Rei-liable narrator

#rei #volo #cheren #// tikposting #// character meta #the crowd booes me off the stage #forgive the pun XDDD his name is too easy to pun on #the way i write it it's not a conscious choice. it's just how the pov character (rei) experiences and contextualises the world #revealing backstory and personality and mindset through narration !!!!#not necessarily out of malice it's just. how he views things #interpreting new and foreign experiences through the lens of what came before...#conversations which read differently to different people.#in the context of rei that's stuff like unease around authority figures #always choosing his words carefully to project an image of competence (he has to be needed)#distrust and not taking things at face value but also paradoxically a fragile and nurtured sense of almost blind optimism #when it comes to friendships. like volo. (everyone turned on me when the sky turned red but it all resolved itself in the end didn't it?)#(what makes this different? / a lot of things. / i choose to believe)#volo [directly]: “i won't be stopped from my goal” rei thoughts: we can work with this!!!!#and everything with Arceus too and his divine blessings and a plan that will work out in the end #if Rei can just... figure out what part he's meant to play. interpreting events as a narrative hurtling towards some unknown conclusion #i am talking about rei here specifically but this writing device is so good in general #would be fun to try get inside volo's head. there's so much going on there i don't understand yet #quite fond of that one analysis post about how volo lacks emotional intelligence and sees relationships as transactions #not necessarily out of malice it's just how he views things. whether because of past experience or brain chemistry #also need to give a shout to cheren my guy who is an outsider pov who projects his own experiences onto new things so that he Understands #(an outsider to Hilbert and N's clash of truth and ideals. life changing experience and knowledge but felt just a little off to the left)#(the narrative repeated again with new heroes. all he can do is help them but it falls on their shoulders in the end)#(no wonder he tries to insert himself into Situations)#anyway tag ramble over feel free to also ramble to me about your takes XD #rei pokemon

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icewindandboringhorror · 2 months ago

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Recent-ish things ~

#photo diary #1 - love this image of Noodle.. such a weird angle that makes his head look entirely round like a puff ball or something #2 - a more recent (still from months ago) collection of my pressed flowers and 4 leaf clovers I found.#3. Being one of the only people in 2024 still going 'hee heee I've just bought a new wii game!' but.. I have. >:3 #It's kind of like Wii Sports Resort but is like.. open world? so your character can actually walk around and stuff. REALLY makes me #wish I had the type of set up where I could record video from my wii and stuff like some gaming youtubers have. I think it'd be a really #fun game to play on video and to DOCUMENT it!!! I keep wishing I could screenshot my little guy walking around but I caaant..#I've literally just been taking out my phyiscal camera and photographing the screen which always looks bad.. augh..#4. Something in the froxen food aisle called 'Wellington Bites' a play on beef wellington. suprisingly good actually. but I guess anything #with like beef and mushrooms usually is. But it seems like.. oddly decent for frozen food stuff.#5 - boye looking Round again.. 6 - updated score in the wii fit minigame again. This time less than 4 seconds #for each round? which may be a record for me? 7 & 8 - fat bird in the snow. fatt bird in the SNOW!! Hoping that climate change and H5N1 #don't eventually remove all trace of birds and winter weather from my life in the future... -_-#9 - ..ough... a few paltry writings.. Except for the one day of 4000 words. But for the most part I have been making soo litte progress #because of the holidays and drs appointments and such a rush of all these other mind distracting things.. Or if I'm not doing something the #I'm feeling tired from having PREVIOUSLY done something so I waste the whole day being sleepy and headachey... GRR...#the funny thing is that like many many years ago I wrote a note on my wall saying 'FOCUS! write 2hr a day or more or youre going to finish #your game in 2025!!!' - which back in 2018 when I wrote it was like unimaginably far into the future but now... ahem.. hem... I guess that #is quite literally the case LOL. To my credit I did parctically abandon it entirely since late 2019 and JUST now picked up really #trying to focus on it in mid 2024 but still... My '''ridiculous'' projection being actually likely the correct one..#10 - I just thoughtit would be silly to put a bunch of keychain things on the wii remote. imagine playing this way. getting constantly #jabbed in the hand by plastic bits. and the jingling clinking noise it would be always making lol #11 - sky.. huzzah for the sky as always. Clouds my beloved #Gr.. I just really want to wriiite. My new years hopes are to finish my game and to get stuff set up to start selling sculptures again.#AND then maybe do more game videos lol... I miss playing games. I dont think I've posted on that youtube for like 5 months #I've just had so much appointments and Things and Stuff and focusing so much on other projects. But that is the thing that really #feels relaxing and fun for me. so like.. 1. finish game 2. sell sculpture/make sculpture 3. play games 4. find more friends #and social connection and networking or whatever the hell people have to do to be successful 5. do more costume/outfits.#<( saying this all on a day where I did none of those things LOL... I got erm.. maybe 400 words done today.. >:'3c )#6 is MOVE away from the evil west coast (hot.. fires in summer. etc) but like. not happening unless I suddenly become a millionaire so. -_-

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mokutone · 2 years ago

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I kind of adore how in ur tags you're talking about his foot position being off and everyone (including me) in the tags is too busy being memorized by tenzō's arm and armpit hair to notice or comment.

ITS REALLY FUNNY!!! AND HONESTLY KINDA HEARTWARMING!!!! I LOVE IT!!!! LMFAOOOO also u + everyone else is right body hair is sick as HELL!!!! its easy to forget to add onto drawings too

#yamswers #icouldreallyuseanewurl #this drawing isnt of kakashis body hair bc i tack on already-drawn things to ask answers. but i feel like u in specific will enjoy it #bc of the kakashi back of the head hair getting ruffled LMFAO #anyway yeah #it reminds me vaguely like. back when i was 16 and first came out as trans i made the intentional choice to grow out my leg hair #and i didnt pass at all so people asked a LOT of questions abt it + whenever they did #my response was always “its gorgeous. i tend to it lovingly. like a garden”#16 yr old me had confidence and a sense of humor for sure LMFAO #genuinely i love it its sooo funny to me. hello body hair enjoyers. ur objectively correct. body hair is so fun to draw too bc it kind of?#grows in swirls? like obvs theres the swirl on the top of the head. but there are directional swirls at the elbow...the belly...the chest..#dont even get me started on facial hair swirls. for people who love drawing lines i think bodyhair is REALLY good #image desc in alt text

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cherry-shipping · 1 year ago

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one of the (admittedly many) reasons i love love love LOVE my uf and ht self inserts i think is because all the shit i hate about myself is amplified with them and i LOVE them for it. theyre weird gross perverted overbearing annoying creeps who nobody really feels comfortable around. and its the BEST!!!!!!!!! like yeah they suck shit. they dont know anything and theyre genuinely disturbing and disgusting people. arent they just the BEST

#cherry chats #i happen to love girls who are the worst ever. is the thing #when my ht/uf inserts make everyone around them uncomfortable and gross people out and when nobody likes them i think its so awesome and fun #they both suck so bad. theyre awesome #they dont KNOW shit they cant DO shit theyre weird nasty FREAKS #theyre overbearing and clingy and creepy and selfish and completely fucked in the head. and theyre everythinf 2 me #^____^#i love my fucked up little self inserts. they are so not okay over there #had a visual image of my uf self insert lighting they and sans’ bed on fire cause he annoyed them. lmfao #blame kiss with a fist That song is everything in the world to me Ok #btw speaking of which i should really give my most common self inserts nicknames #because going ‘my uf and ht self inserts’ every time is a pain #like. my trollsona although i dont talk about them much is a favorite too and their name is zairku Cuz troll names etc #and in my head i nicknames my horrortale guy 207 for. some fuckin reason #ermm. whadda hell do i call that underfell freak then.#……………… cherry???? bc thats qhat i used to go by way way WAY back in the day???#and it. SORTA fits the general uf aesthetic…..???#well. just like how 207 was a placeholder that just became their nickname i guess cherry would be the same #if i called them that as a temporary placeholder while i think of something else itd just end up being their name anyway. lol #okie dokie hehehee thats good then ^__^ i think ill add that 2 my pages when i get out of bed #which is. very soon bcuz i wanna smoke. so im goin outside. its -4° out

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helielune · 6 months ago

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#i was like lets make a cute little thing really quick and then i tunnel visioned for.... 20 mins?#don't open the tags unless you're prepared for a wall of text #my art #another one of those images which uncomfortably straddle the line between 'my scribbles' and 'my actual work that i put real effort into'#anyway this is me after i was like let's make a proof of concept for a productivity app it'll be fun and fast #and in order to make a full proof of concept i went back to the initial thoughts i had about the app (which i wrote down of course)#so i could. y'know. get the full concept down. and then i read like thousands of words of completely disorganized spitballing. head spinnin #but also did you know that me from what. like 3 years ago? shares remarkably similar ideals as me today. who would have thought really.#i had forgotten about half of the stuff that i originally wanted in the app and now my app idea is slightly bigger #(my already big mind palace app is already. big)#and maybe you'd be like 'wow okay that just means you grew up and developed so you don't need them anymore!' false sense of security it's #actually because i am no longer a student and also have no job so my daily life is different but my work ethic (lack thereof??)#is still the. same. so if i were ever to work in a society again i would need. them. most likely #and the other half of the stuff that i originally wanted are things that i unwittingly wrote into my recent drafts so yeah i got kinda #blindsided by myself back there. 'oh shit YOU were the one who came up with this first. wtf i thought i was being original and innovative'#slight exaggeration bc what im making is like 98% clone and 2% not clone (but maybe still 99% clone bc there might be another app out there #that i just haven't heard of but is like exactly the same as what i am thinking in my head)a nyways #okay yeah uhhhhhhh so i'll be back at some point with more fun words good night fellows #also did you know that ms paint has layers now (not that new news) and also doesn't let you save in layers that's crazy shit

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my-thoughts-and-junk · 6 months ago

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still thinking about my ideal horror game

#random thoughts #horror #okay so i love it when characters who you initially assume are good are actually bad people #so i would love it if the protag of a game were doing their first big hangout with a friend group they're new to #maybe the mc just moved to town and one of the people in the friend group is their cousin or smth #so you don't know anyone that well and they seem like decent folk #except when you get into the horror situation it's revealed that they're all extremely bad people #like maybe one tries to sacrifice you to save themself #some of them are cheating on each other. some of them are bigoted. just a lot of bad traits which are revealed #i have this image in my head of a scene #where one of the main characters is the older brother of someone in the friend group #and he's there because he's the only one who can drive and he's not close to the friend group at all #and he's like the classic bad boy bully with his own circle of friends he hangs out with #and if you make specific choices he'll eventually pull you aside #which you initially think is in a 'oh no i pissed him off and got the bad end' way #but in reality he's like 'okay so i think you're actually pretty decent so here's a head's up'#'those guys over there - don't look at them look at me act like i'm chewing you out - they're bad people. don't trust anyone.'#and then he shoves you against a tree in a huff and walks back over to the group like nothing happened #leaving them all to think he was trying to intimidate you and be an ass #and at that point in the game it's like. is he fucking with you? he has to be right?#im thinking the choices you make to get that scene are when you stand up for other people when he specifically is poking fun at them #like you see everyone else is too uncomfortable to take a stand against him but YOU do. and he respects that

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pixiesholloworld · 5 months ago

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put 'em on the glass .ᐟ

╰┈➤ synopsis: me putting my your fav jjk men in car shmex scenarios

cw: f!reader established relationships w/ sukuna, geto, nanami,, fwb!gojo, hook up w/ toji, fear play? w/nanami agoraphilia (obviously), slight exhibitionism? fingering, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving), riding, pet names (like baby, honey, sugar), degradation (toji calls you a whore/brat/bitch/slut), high sex w/toji, spanking, missionary, backsh!ts, the whole 9 yards. [✿] is meant to be y/n

a/n: idk how much im gonna clean this up or proofread it but i hope you guys like

sukuna - [attachment 5 images] you'd never seen someone drive so fast before in your life, you watched as the little blip on your phone struggles to keep up with sukuna’s actual speed, updating only every few seconds until you see that he's around the corner. you put on the last few sprits of perfume and run outside to greet him, he quickly pushes the door open for you so you can hop in and before you can even get in good

"think its fun to tease me all day, huh? sending pictures of you bent over like that.." his voice, rough and consumed with desire. you felt all giddy after having successfully worked him up sending him picture after picture, of you in the skirt he bought you not too long ago— teasing him, you could feel your cunt begging to be relieved from this aching feeling, excitement smearing your thighs as he pulls into an empty parking garage.

you watch as his big veiny hands turn the wheel with finesse until he stops perfectly into a parking spot on the 3rd floor, the floor baren, the lights dim and flicker above the car as he reclines your seat and positions himself over you, "fuuck this," he seethes, "i'm not waitin' another minute to touch you". your hands reach over his shoulders and bring him in for a sultry kiss, you feel his breath shake as his lips press into yours again and again.

his hands wonder over your body, cupping your cheeks, and slowly moving down to unzip your jacket, knowing nothing lies under there but your hardened nipples. you feel his index and thumb squeeze and pull at them, beckoning small whimpers to leave your lips between kisses. you feel his lips curl against yours

"mmm, i like the sound of that" he moves one of his hands down to your legs, lightly grazing your thigh and following the heat to your puffed folds. the feeling sends a rush of electricity through your veins as his fingertips kiss at your folds and spread them, smearing the slick all over, "no panties?"

his thumb finds your soddened bulb and pushes against it slightly, you feel that same ticklish feeling start around your thighs and stomach, your brows furrow as your sweet moans fill his mouth. he moves his other hand from your nipple to your neck and squeezes slightly hearing how your voice cracks at the sudden pressure.

his finger moves at a quicker pace and you find it harder to keep up with his mouth but eventually you give up, letting him move his lips all over your face, your hips rhythmically jitter against his thumb. his hand grows tighter around your neck as your moans become louder

"k-kuna" you croak out, "more, kuna", your hands reach down to his and you guide two of his fingers inside. he lets you and releases his hand from around your neck, placing it beside your head, his thrusts are slow at first, watching as your body becomes more undone to his touch.

his lips slowly trail from the corner of your mouth, kissing at your jaw and slowly going down until he reaches your neck, his sharp teeth graze your neck as he leaves wet open kisses that turn into bites, biting you lovingly of course. he feels you clutching around his digits and thrusts faster feeling you lose yourself all over him

"kunaaa" you whine, fingers wildly massaging his tufts of hair, your body felt so heavy, you knew it was impossible but you felt like his fingers were so deep, feeling how they dove in and out so steadily, his palm kiss up against your clit every so often. it all gave you a feeling that was just a step up higher than euphoria

you could barley say anything other than his name when he started to sneak his lips over to your ear, kissing and licking all over it like a starved animal, shushing you while moving one of his hands over your mouth

he wanted this feeling to last as much as you did, but that single action ended it all, you two were so lucky that it was so far into the night that no one could possibly hear you.. at least no one outside the parking lot

even with all the windows rolled up and his hand over your mouth sukuna was sure your screams could be heard. "such a loud mouthed brat" he teases, removing his hand from both your mouth and weeping cunt, he instead forces his cream coated digits into your mouth so you can clean it off

"sorry" you muffle out, as your tongue languidly rolls between his thick fingers. your half lidded eyes stare into his deep crimsons as if you were trying to telepathically tell him what you wanted, feeling his length grow on your thigh

he looks at you with a fiendish grin and starts unbuckling his belt

gojo - rear service

you had no idea where your taste in men came from

as the oldest sibling it was only natural for you to be drawn to only children or younger siblings

and for some reason you chose to be fwb with the most annoying one you could find, though you suppose he was annoying in a charming way

when saturo invited you out you thought you’d be getting your pussy ate, not sitting in the middle of the beach parking lot watching all of the digimon movies in order. counting grains of sand could be more interesting than this shit

but at least he made it comfortable for you, you were in his custom made baby blue tesla, the 2 front seats were put all the way down and you were huddled up next to him under a blanket as the screen played in front of the both of you

you tried to stay focused, so so so hard, but the longer the movie went on the more you felt like leaving, it didn't make it any better that every few minutes he'd drop a fun fact about one of the characters, like you really gave a fuck

something needed to give and fast, you slyly move your hand over to his stomach and casually start toying with his pajama pant drawstring, thinking you were doing it so sneakily too, playing it off as an attempt to caress his smooth skin

but then all so abruptly you feel his hand run over yours and glide it into his pants and boy was he hard. feeling him take control so suddenly when you thought he was distracted caught you by surprise

"god, i was saving the fun part for later" he moves your hand down further so your grasping it now, "is the movie really that boring?"

you flash a smile at him, holding his length and slowly stroking it, "yeah, reallly fucking boring" you pull it out from his boxers and move your lips to meet with his. while kissing was cool and all you felt yourself growing more impatient by the minute

you find yourself moving lower on the seat, letting him hover right over you. you could feel the beads of pre drip onto your clothes, his breathing becoming more shallow as his wet, pink, lips force your mouth open to let his tongue in

he's rutting into your hand at this point, whenever he gets like this he starts whining and rambling, "sorry f'borin' you to death, let me make it up to you, yeah? come on, pretty" he starts pawing at your shorts, smiling against your swollen, spit colored lips,"let me eat it for you, or better yet let me fuck you, yeahh, could fuck you real good night now"

maybe this was why you happened to get with men that were an only child, always so eager to please, or maybe it was just him, either way you weren't complaining. gojo loved when you took control, so when you told him if he wanted the privilege of fucking you again he needed to prove he deserved it first, he did exactly that

it was such a pretty sight to see, his white locs of hair draping over your sprawled out legs feeling how hungrily he lapped up your juices. his tongue running swirls around your hardened bulb, sending shocks throughout your body, you could feel him nibbling and sucking on your clit all in an effort to hear your sweet sweet moans

“mmm, just like that ‘toru” you could tell he was losing himself in your taste, your scent, your moans, the feeling of your thighs threating to squeeze his head open if he kept going at this pace, he didn't care though he'd just pry them open again like he always does

he looks up at you so innocently too, knowing something vile is going on inside of that head of his. he didn't have to say it but you knew that would be your last time trying to stop him from getting what he wanted, feeling how his sinewy arms held your legs down while gripping the fat of your thigh, groaning into your cunt like he was the one being eaten out

the nerves in your stomach built up, and up, and up, not only from how his tongue quickly lapped at your folds but there was an added thrill doing this outside on public property… fact that you two could get caught at any moment added to the pleasure

your hand reached for his head trying to pull him in deeper, saturo loved getting his hair pulled and usually welcomed your gentle tugs but this time he took your hand away from his head and held onto it, looking you deep in the eyes as the hardened tip of his tongue bullied your clit

your body felt so limp and your legs shook like crazy at every movement he made begging to close up just to suppress your climax. you squeezed his hand, trying to keep yourself grounded as he groaned into your clit, licking and sucking at it until you were drowning in pleasure, your breaths becoming more exasperated

“ah, i-i’m gonna, ‘toru i- ahh!”, you moaned, arching your back as he held your legs open, hungrily sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves. he lived for your taste, loving how your voice cracks when you’ve had too much for his sinful tongue for one night, most of all though he loved holding you in place while you squirmed into his arms, bucking your hips straight into his mouth so you could ride out your nut

saturo lifts his head up, admiring the sticky mess between your thighs as he works his way up, his dick poking right at your mound

“now for the fun part”

geto - no license

suguru loved, loved, loved, loved making you hit high notes, you promised to ride him one of these days but you were failing miserably, you weren’t making all the pretty noises you usually do

so naturally he took matters into his own hands—literally—by fucking up into you, guiding your hips up and down to match his movements. you could feel your legs juddering from having your legs in one position for so long, nearly ready to give out as you buried your face into his neck, clawing into the leather behind him

he was unrelenting, he probably wasn’t gonna be satisfied until he’s made you cum more times than you can count, to make matters worse though you were fucking in his car in front of a church, not only was it humiliating to know the car was definitely moving in the dark of night but in front of a church made thing so much worse

you’ve always wanted to have car sex and leave it to suguru to make it a night worth remembering with the stakes so high. he told you you had no need to worry since a church is the last place the cops will think of checking on you two, and with every thrust you slowly started to worry less and less

or was that your brain turning into mush? you didn’t even notice suguru was talking to you until you felt a mean smack on your ass, “you hear me talkin’ to you?” you yelp in response struggling to find words as he slams you down harder on his girth

“m-mmhm”

“my poor dumb baby, you’re all fucked out already?” he grabs a fist full of your hair and forces you to look into those fanciable purple irises of his, he hums contently admiring what a mess you’ve made of yourself. your make up that you worked so hard on smeared all over your face and the drool splayed all across your cheek, you were oh so cute like this

another mean smack snaps you out of your daze, dragging a more high pitched yelp out of you than before, “answer” he demands, can’t he tell? the answer was so obvious, your delayed speech and mindless babbling, the way your body would lurch forward in an attempt to impede the next thrust, the tears threatening to fall from those cute little puppy eyes suguru adored so much

“y-you’re being— fuh, s’mean— ngh”

“oh? am i? s’your fault you’re in this mess y’know. making me get my own nut off”

“don’t mean to” you say behind half gritted teeth, your eyes shut in an attempt to deny the inevitable but his hand smacks your ass twice in response

“open those pretty eyes f’me, wanna see that look you give me when you cum”

suguru knew you loved his voice, it was so deep yet soothing, everything about him was so tantalizing, the longer you looked into his eyes the hotter you started to feel. you were practically naked in his car having only your socks and shirt on, he had teased you for hours before your promise to ride him fell through and those hours were starting to catch up to you

“think you can ride all by yourself now?” his hand smacking your ass again just to hear you scream

“y-yes!”

“go on, don’t disappoint me”

you adjust yourself and hold on to the headrest bouncing in the same rhythm he had you going at, his curve hitting that same spot over and over it was driving you fucking crazy. you felt hot all over and the stinging from his constant smacks weren’t going away anytime soon, the inside of your knees started feeling sweaty and slowly but surely you started to wind down

he wouldn’t let that go unpunished though

smacking your ass again and placing his hands on your hips to fix your speed, “you were doin’ so good, what happened huh?”, he gifts you another smack before letting go of your hips, “don’t let it happen again, ok?”, you heard a hint of irritation in his voice, he meant big business

so now with sudden newfound inspiration you go at the exact pace he wants you to go, clutching around his girth every few thrusts, feeling his dick pummel through you so quickly made you so wet and his breathy moans made everything so much wetter until, pop

his dick slipped out, “uh oh,” he lifts you up by your waist and eases it back in, grabbing your hips and slamming you right back down into his balls again, “pussy’s so wet baby, you feel so fuckin good”, then all at once his hands roam up to your waist and he slumps back making you fall against him, thrusting right into you while hitting that g-spot

“who’s pussy is this?”

“ah! ah! yours! ngh”

he smacks your ass really fucking hard this time, forcing you to correct yourself

“ahh fuck! yours suguru, it’s yours!”

then another, smack,

your screaming moans could probably be heard from outside the car but you didn’t care and neither did he all he cared about was hearing those broken pornographic moans scream his name

“that’s more like it, keep going baby, yeahh just like that. here, take that shirt off too”,

he slides your shirt off with ease then cups your breast and places it in his mouth, letting it fall out every now and again to fuck you and then placing it back. near growls leave his mouth as you feel his balls crash into you over and over, making the most lewd papping sounds you’ve ever heard. all this added stimulation started to make you feel lightheaded

his hands were glued to the sides of your hips forcing you to take every inch he could offer and then some, he could feel how your walls would clutch around his dick so tightly, it made him chuckle a little, thinking you might actually break it off. he slows down his pace a little, his hands roaming up to your face, keeping steady eye contact with you, "you take it so well, sweetheart, wanna keep going like this?"

you nod your head rapidly, not knowing what suguru had planned for you next

"use those words of yours" he teases

"y-yes" you exhale, feeling his hands roam back down to your hips lifting them up once more

"come on then, put your arms over me"

nanami - murder road

when you told your husband you wanted to try something different you did not have this in mind

when he first brought up going to a murder road you were curious and excited, thinking it was something similar to halloween horror nights, but when you got into his car and started to see the city lights slowly disappear you grew a little concerned not really knowing what the road ahead had in store for you

"honey, where are we going?"

"you'll see"

the road ahead twisted and the pit in your stomach grew into an abyss, you looked up what a murder road was on your phone since he wasn't coughing up any answers but all that came up was this stupid book and then your service went out!

you knew kento had no alterative plans for you like murder per say... but you didn’t feel entirely comfortable driving into a literal black hole either. as if things couldn’t get weirder you stop at a cliff, its dark as shit out here, you’re cold and you want to go home

you feel sudden warmth on you leg and look down to see your husband's hand he’s looking at you with those same loving eyes he always gives you looking as though he's impressed with himself

“kento— dear, where the fuck are we?”

“this is the murder road i was telling you about”

“yeah but… what are we doing here.. this place is giving me the creeps”

his hand creeps up your thigh, fingers brushing against where your clit would be, “you said you wanted to try something different didn’t you?”

it all started coming together now, the secrecy, the long car ride, all building up to this moment, you’d be lying if his seriousness and dedication to his role didn’t turn you on a little bit, you felt a little more at ease

still freaked out that your husband decided to fuck you in the middle of nowhere but relieved that you won’t end up on the news tomorrow. you both climb in the backseat staring at each other hungrily until you make the first move, taking his tie off of him slowly and sensually, before moving to his button down

“[✿], what were you so afraid of?” a bit of concern tainting his tone

“hm? i just wanted to know where we were going”

“does not knowing things scare you?”

“i guess so”

he then unexpectedly took his tie from you and held it in his hands, "you wanted to try something new, right?"

your hands move away from his button down, his chest was exposed down the middle, his eyes were focused directly on you, unwavering

"y-yeah?"

"you mind if a blind fold you?"

blind folding? what the fuck

was it not enough that you two were surrounded by darkness?

"you've got nothing to be afraid of, no one can see us out here"

it’s not being caught that scared you it’s not knocking whatever coming next that did, then, a familiar feeling started to pull at your stomach again, it was like when you were on your way up here, or when you'd be left in the dark as a child— you were scared, but for some reason this time it felt good. you let him tie the tie around your head, it completely covered your vision and you could only feel kento's warmth in front of you at this point

"tell me if its too tight"

"so'kay"

"you ready?"

"yes"

your body felt so tense but it was all so exciting at the same time, you could hear kento taking off his clothes, the clinking of his belt, the ruffling of his shirt and pants. the anticipation was dreadful, until you felt his hand on your thigh, "can i take these off for you?" he pulls at the loop attached to your jeans

"mmhm"

he unbuttons your jeans first, and then slides them over your hips, you lift yourself up a little to make it easier for him and then he moves over to your long sleeve, only leaving on your bra and panties. your tummy was doing backflips by this point, not knowing what you looked like or what he looked like, just knowing that he was in front of you and that the inevitable was coming soon

"you look so lovely" he professes, guiding you to lie down on your back, you couldn't even fathom that this was happening right now, you felt so many different sensations now that your sight was gone, you felt how strong he was, muscles daring to burst from his smooth, taut skin. his body heat was so strong and it felt almost as if the heat was carrying his scent

you felt something coming closer to your face until you felt his warm lips press against yours, you just now noticed how plump they were, your hands roamed around his body moving up to his back and pulling him in closer, wanting more of his warmth

you could feel his teeth gently clash against yours beckoning you to open your mouth wider to let his tongue in, the texture is rough but wet, you felt one of his hands tuck under your back, bringing you closer to him as his dick nestles between your legs, slowly rutting against your laced panties

his lips would diverge from loving kisses to bites so suddenly, biting your lower lip and slightly sucking on it before sticking his tongue back in your mouth, the unpredictability and lewdness of it all made you throb, the wet sounds your mouths made, hearing how his breath would hitch and his hips would jitter after every whimper that fell from your lips

it must've been so hard from him to hold back because the second you ask for him to put it in you can feel him racing to take your panties off, you can feel the heat radiating from his tip and coming closer, feeling as though its about to burst

he teases the entrance a little covering your clit with the mixture of pre and slick before sinking himself in, shaky moans pour out as your hands try to reach up for him and he comes to you immediately letting you feel his warmth as he kisses your lips

"that's alright honey, ive got you"

toji - put 'em on the glass, girl!

you both knew you were dead wrong, you more than him though, what would the other club members think if they saw you like this? you were part of a very very well known car club, you weren't only apart of it but YOURE THE HEAD of the club

you had it all, the money, the cars, the attention, so what were you doing here? face pressed against the glass of the rival club leader's car with his dick balls deep in your guts?

the only reason you got into this situation was because you decided to match, not only was toji in a car club but he also sold weed and you like to test your products before you buy..

"fuck- toji! ughmygod!"

"somethin' wrong doll?"

"more, more please, more"

"more? awh, must really like me, huh?"

"shutupand fuckme" you say behind gritted teeth, you grab his hand and start throwing it back faster, what can you say? you were gonna get your nut off one way or another

you felt the car bouncing beneath you two, it shook so viciously especially when he started going deeper, it felt like he was pushing your cervix farther back. he grabbed the back of your head, pushing it more into the glass just to watch your breath fog up the mirror, like it wasn't hot enough in here already

you could see his smug grin from the corner of your eye as he pummeled into you, you used to despise that shit eating grin. he'd always show up to takeovers in the flashiest cars that were wayyy out of his tax bracket, there's no way he could afford them, he was definitely a theft waiting to be caught.. but all of that started to fade from your mind when he took his hand off your head and put it between your thighs

you had to let go of him and hang onto the car door to keep your balance by this point, your legs started to buckle and tremble, you could hear him let out a dark chuckle, his fingers spreading your slick covered folds to find thatt spot, the added stimulation was driving you crazy

you can see his face coming closer, stopping just short of your ear, "that feel good? like when i play with your clit like this?"

"uh-huh- yes! don't stop!"

"you gonna cum soon?" he cooed, you weren't even listening to his voice with your ears anymore but your drooling cunt, "i can see your cream on my dick, you nasty whore"

“shutuptoji”

“such a mouthy little bitch, dont’chu know who the fuck y’er talkin’ to?"

all you could do was moan in response as his hips thrusted deeper and harder just to feel you grip onto him tighter, you both knew you were gonna cum soon and it was gonna be messy

“nothin’ to say back huh? who knew that all i needed to fix that mouth of yours was stick my dick in ya”

“just- ngh, fuck— ah, me”

“awh 'm sorry princess, not goin’ fast enough for you?”

then almost instantly his hips started pumping faster, he pulled your head off of the glass and placed it up to look at him, he had moved his hand from between your thighs by now, slowly moved his hands down your waist to your ass, a hand on each cheek, gripping the fat and pushing it together, spanking it, groaning at each thrust loving how he could hear the sound of your ass falling back against him, fucking you so good you started to lose your arch

“t-toji, slow down! ah, ah!”

“hm?" smack! "why the fuck would i?" smack! "s’only one way to shut nasty fuckin’ brats like you up— nghfuck, you’re so wet—", smack! "you run that fuckin' mouth all day n' all i wanna hear is —mmm shiitt baby, fix that fuckin’ back, yeahh"

toji went on and on about how nasty you were fucking him out in public like this, how loud you were being, how much your body loved being on him, all while fucking you the way you deserved to be

"such a needy little bitch, huh? you need my dick? mmhm, fuck— sound like you need it," smack! "mmm, you want it dont you?" smack! "need it huh, dollface?"

a familiar feeling pulled at your womb, filling your insides from how good you felt, your hands scrapped against the fogged glass in an attempt to get away from him, but he holds you down against the glass again forcing you to take it

"fuck are you goin’? we’re not done yet"

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incognit0slut · 1 month ago

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Champagne Kisses

A night involving champagne gives you the perfect excuse to end up naked after weeks of harmless flirting. Spencer thinks one night isn’t enough.

category: smut, fluff word count: around 8k content: softdom!spencer, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (but no creampie he’s testing his pull-out game), alcohol consumption, food play (more like drink play), and i wanna say spit kink but they’re using champagne instead so does that count? a/n: merry 2025 please tell me you remember me or else i might actually cry

You’re doing it again.

You’ve been clawing at his face for the past hour, stealing fleeting glances and looking away just as quickly, because every time you do, you find the same thing.

Brown eyes. Chocolate, marbled in hazel with tiny golden speckles. Pinning you in place. Dismantling you layer by layer. And somewhere in the quiet heat behind them, in the barely-there twitch of his jaw, you’re pretty sure he’s already mapping out the fastest way to get you out of your clothes.

It’s nerve-racking. Smart Spencer you can handle, awkward Spencer you can charm. But flirtatious Spencer? Flirtatious Spencer is dangerous.

Even more so when you’re squashed between Penelope and Luke at the overcrowded booth of O'Keefe's, who are mid-argument over something you can’t even muster the energy to care. Not when long legs stretch in front of you, and strips of neon lights slice across the table in a glow that crosses his form, curving around handsome features that make him look far too inviting.

Because that’s what your mind keeps drifting to. Taking him back to your place, where the only thing glowing would be the dim light of your bedroom.

Or maybe the pale light from the hallway.

Perhaps the soft flicker of the lamp in your living room.

Either way, your mind is already drawing images of him doing whatever it is he’s picturing in his own head. The location doesn’t matter.

“Don’t you agree?”

Your gaze fall over him once more before you force yourself to look away, catching Penelope staring at you expectantly. “Agree to what?”

“That margaritas are objectively the most fun drink and clearly better than boring beer.”

This is the argument they’ve been debating for the last five minutes?

Luke scoffs from your left. He doesn’t look angry though, his expression is more amused than irritated, lips formed in a cheeky smirk. “I can tolerate margaritas if we’re on a beach. But beers are solid all year round, pop a cap and you're good to go."

“You’re such a guy."

“I'm telling you, you don't need fancy ingredients or a blender. No little umbrellas."

“Literally proving my point. Beer has no personality.”

“Are you saying I have no personality?”

Bright pink-framed glasses shift as Penelope tips her head. “If the shoe fits.”

You’re at the point where you’re no longer surprised by their arguments. Loud and pointless, is how you'd describe them. You suspect Luke does it to get a reaction, and normally you’d add fuel to the fire, because Penelope is a pretty fire-cracker when her nostrils flare in absolute indignation. But your attention is elsewhere tonight.

Knees brushing yours under the table. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips. Deep set of eyes dragging over your face, your neck, the spot between your collarbone and shoulder where the pulse of your heartbeat seems to echo louder each second.

You slide with your back against the chair, thighs clamping shut.

You feel him imprinted on you, heated gaze traveling beneath your skin. You wonder if he realizes what he’s doing, if he’s even aware of the effect all the time his eyes fall on you. Since the moment he walked in the room, since he took that seat directly across from you, and if you’re being completely honest, that glint in his eyes has been there probably for weeks now. The when of it all is a bit fuzzy.

Tonight feels adamantly different though, and you feel like you might just need a little extra something to quiet the nervous hum beneath your ribs.

But you’re not entirely sure whether it’s nerves or something far more indulgent that has your mind secretly leading you to a very unholy place. A place where you wonder if the rough, scruffy drag of his jaw feels the same below his navel.

You’re a hundred percent certain that it does.

“You know what’s a better drink?” your voice cracks, desperately needing that extra little something. “Champagne.”

Penelope’s head whips toward you. “Champagne? Here?”

You glance around the bar and raise a hand, trying to flag down the bartender.

The wood-paneled walls are covered with vintage beer advertisements, and the sticky floor is dotted with peanut shells from the complimentary bowls on every table. It’s the kind of place where the closest thing to champagne is probably prosecco poured into a plastic flute for a wedding after-party.

“What’s wrong with champagne? It’s a classic drink, great for celebration.” You order a bottle and four tall glasses before fixing her with a look. “It’s the New Year.”

She snorts. “We’re already halfway through January.”

“Penelope, we had to work on Christmas and New Year’s. We finally have this night to breathe, let me have this.”

There’s a beat of silence before she sighs dramatically. “Fine. But it still feels weird drinking champagne in a bar where the most sophisticated cocktail is a rum and coke.”

“Which is exactly why we’re elevating the night,” you reply, watching as the bartender sets the bottle down with (thank god) proper crystal flutes. You pour the first glass, the golden bubbles racing upward like tiny fireworks as you pass it to her.

Luke accepts the next glass without the same hesitation, but when you offer one to Spencer, the curly-haired man shakes his head.

“Right. I forgot you don’t really drink alcohol.”

The faintest smile tugs at his lips. “I don’t have anything against alcohol, just not in large amounts.” His gaze shifts to the bottle on the table. “I also happen not to like champagne.”

Penelope looks mildly offended. “Why not?”

“Because the carbonation overpowers the flavor. It’s hard to enjoy a drink when it’s constantly popping on your tongue.” You stifle a laugh before you can stop yourself. He looks at you. “What?”

“I think you’re overthinking it,” you reply with a grin. “Here, maybe this will change your mind.”

You pour him a glass and nudge it toward him. He simply looks from the glass to you.

“Come on,” you coax. “We’re celebrating the New Year.”

“Seventeen days late."

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"Do not ruin the fun. We’re still celebrating, and you can’t toast with water. That’s practically begging for bad luck.”

He exhales sharply, lips twitching in what might be defeat or mild amusement, before reaching across the table. Everyone raises their glasses. The instant the bubbles hit his tongue, his nose scrunches in subtle distaste, and the sound of your laughter flies through the small space.

“It’s not that bad,” you insist.

“I still don’t understand the appeal.”

Champagne isn’t exactly your first choice either. You’ve always been more of a wine person. A good wine. A rich Burgundy that makes you close your eyes on the first sip to taste the faint of autumn in a glass. But champagne feels right for the occasion.

This taste blooms on your tongue, crisp and bright with hints of green apple and citrus and that faint yeasty richness at back of your throat. They dance across your palate, leaving a lingering sweetness through your veins that doesn’t soothe your nerves so much as ignite something beneath them, something warmer, deeper, curling into your bloodstream.

It makes you very bold.

Bold enough to hold his gaze without flinching. Bold enough to let your tongue flick across your lips. Bold enough to let your foot glide slowly up the length of his long, long leg.

You’ll have him taste his own medicine.

You, too, can play with fire.

“Maybe you’re drinking it wrong,” you hum, feeling him tense for the briefest, tiniest moment before he relaxes. “There’s another way to make champagne better.”

He grips the stem of his glass. “Something tells me you have a suggestion.”

“I do.”

He tilts his head. The din of conversation around you slowly fades into a muffled hum, the clinking of glasses and Penelope’s laughter barely registering as you notice the curve of his smile, the question lingering in his eyes.

Will you show me?

And that’s how you find yourself naked between his thighs two hours later.

It started innocently enough—or at least that’s the lie you fed yourself when you watched Penelope and Luke stumble their way to the dance floor, giggling as they poured yet another round of sparkling wine. But the champagne didn’t keep your attention for long. A few more stolen glances later, you found your hand wrapping around his arm, the other clutching a half-full bottle of champagne like some reckless lifeline.

It is reckless. Even you can’t deny that. You’ve always been cautious when it comes to bringing a man home. But this isn’t just anyone. This is Spencer. Someone who already knows too many pieces of you, someone who doesn’t need to be deciphered or explained.

And maybe that’s why you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging him out of the bar.

The ride in the stuffy cab felt like an eternity and a blink at the same time that the moment your apartment door clicked shut behind you, his mouth was already on yours. You barely had time to process how surprisingly good he tasted before your clothes started to disappear.

It’s a dizzying rush of hands and heat, and you’re now standing over him, knees brushing his as he sinks into your couch.

Yes, your couch. The soft, slate-blue one you’ve spent countless evenings curled up on, legs tucked under a blanket, flipping through books or half-watching shows you never finish. But now it cradles a completely different weight—the heavy heat of him radiating with tension-laced curiosity and a barely contained lust that seems to bleed right into the fabric.

“I can’t believe I’m kissing you,” he mutters dazedly, trailing his lips along your jaw with a hand resting on your naked back.

“I can’t believe you can unhook my bra that fast.”

He catches the sheer black fabric now hanging haphazardly over your lamp where he’d tossed it aside moments ago. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Should I be concerned about how much practice you’ve had?”

“Not really. I’m a fast learner.”

That, you believe. But you’re not entirely sure if it’s his innate skill or the way your body seems to respond to him so effortlessly that leaves your lungs feeling like they’ve forgotten how to work. Breathing is no longer instinctive now. It’s a function you have to remind yourself to do as his tongue dances along the curve of your breast, and by the time he takes the achingly hard tip into his mouth, your chest tightens.

You suck in a desperate need of oxygen while he sucks the last thread of composure from you.

“Sweet.”

“Huh?”

“You—” He pulls back just enough to let his teeth graze the delicate skin before soothing it with a slow drag of his tongue, “taste sweet.”

Your hand slides to the back of his neck with a sigh. “You’re exaggerating.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bodies don’t taste like anything, it’s skin.”

Spencer shakes his head as he cups the weight of your other breast with the same care you’ve come to expect from him. Taut nipple rolls under his thumb. “How do you explain this then?”

You don’t respond. Not with words, anyway. Your body speaks first as you arch into his touch, chasing the warmth of his hands before you can form any thoughts.

“How do you explain,” he continues, his lips trailing down the slope of your stomach, “why I can’t get enough of how sweet you taste?”

Your mind finally catches up, and the words settle over you like honey itself.

“You think so?”

“It’s not a thought, it’s a fact.” He presses a kiss to the soft skin just below your navel. “I don’t know how you can taste better than this.”

Your laugh is breathless, barely steady enough to be called one. “You’re laying it on thick now.”

“I’m just being honest.”

It’s cute how he says it with such conviction, like it’s the simplest truth in the world and not a line that’s turning your legs to liquid. Your knees threaten to buckle as you step away, reaching for the half-empty champagne bottle perched on the coffee table. The glass feels cool against your overheated skin as you twist the cork free.

“What are you doing?”

“Considering your words.” You hold up the bottle, the champagne fizzing invitingly at its neck. “What do you say we make this even sweeter?”

His eyes light up with interest. “Is this where you show me the right way to drink champagne?”

You nod and sink back between his thighs. “I know you’re not big on sharing food, but I think you’re gonna like this.”

“You do realize I’ll share anything with you.”

Your lips curl into a soft smile. You’ve already learned that kissing Spencer feels deliciously messy. It’s sloppy in the way passion tends to be when control is the last thing on either of your minds, with tongues and teeth colliding in an unpolished rhythm that’s as raw as it is consuming. Adding champagne to the equation doesn’t feel like much of a stretch.

You step forward at the same time his hands fall to your hips. “There’s a trick to drinking champagne.”

“I’m listening.”

The bottle’s rim grazes your lips as you take in his appearance. His shirt is wrinkled, hanging just a little more loosely around his chest with two buttons undone. He’s the very definition of disheveled that’s entirely your doing. He looks absolutely irresistible.

“You need to linger on the taste,” you start, your voice dipping into something softer as your eyes meet his again. “Be patient. Let it sit and overwhelm your senses before you swallow.”

“You mean marinate it in my mouth?”

A giggle burst out of you. “Exactly. The longer you let it linger, the more it softens, and the sweeter it gets.”

You tilt the bottle to your lips. The sweetness starts to bloom on your tongue, subtle at first, but then richer, fuller against the roof of your mouth. There's a flicker of recognition in his eyes when you pull him closer by the nape of his neck, the exact moment he realizes what you’re about to do.

Your lips meld seamlessly with his as the Champagne slips from your mouth.

His lashes flutter briefly. There’s a soft flush spreading across his pale cheeks, and you feel the faint hum of pleasure, vibrating against the delicate curve of his skin as a liquid thread drips down your chin.

And then you’re kissing him. Or he’s kissing you. It’s hard to tell who moved first, but it doesn’t matter. His lips part further, and you swear you can taste every nuance of the champagne in a way you've never experienced before. Sharp citrus, a whisper of honeyed sweetness, and beneath it all, something clean and cool that reminds you of first snowfalls.

His lips are swollen and wet and perfectly shiny when you finally pull back.

“What do you think?”

“I think we should drink champagne every day.”

Your hand drifts to the side of his neck with a smile, thumb brushing lightly against his pulse. “Even when we’re working?”

“Especially when we’re working,” he counters, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, tasting what’s left of you. His gaze flickers to the bottle in your hand. “Can I try it?”

You pass it to him, your eyes fixed on the way he tilts it to his mouth. You’re sure the bubbles in your system aren’t the reason your pulse races as he sets the bottle aside and rises to his feet. You’re also sure that no amount of champagne is responsible for the way your lips part eagerly when his hands cradle your cheeks.

There it is again—that sweetness. It hits you the moment his mouth captures yours, but it fully overwhelms you when he tilts his head and gently coaxes the champagne from his lips to yours.

You’re not surprised at how quickly he picks this up. It’s common knowledge that he’s a very diligent person, but it’s still a bit astonishing how he’s taken to playing with a drink he supposedly doesn’t even like. This is nothing like solving cases or flexing his impossibly sharp brain, nor the crosswords you’re used to seeing him hunched over at his desk at lunch.

This requires a different kind of finesse that involves his lips and tongue rather than a pen and paper.

It also seems like he might be enjoying this even more. He leans back just enough to let his tongue sweep across the seam of your lips, collecting the last trace of sweetness clinging to you.

A thumb swipes over the wet trail under chin. “I could get used to this.”

“Champagne or me?”

“Both.”

Satisfied with his answer, your fingers trail down to undo the last few buttons of his shirt. “Do you wanna try something else?”

He quirks an eyebrow as you push down the fabric down his shoulders. You don’t say anything all the while you start to unbuckle his belt, peeling every layer of his clothing until you’ve stripped him completely bare—and would you look at that? The faint trail of hair down his belly matches the scruff shadowing his jaw.

There’s a brief pause as your eyes travel down his body, lingering on his surprisingly impressive size, and a comment sits at the edge of your tongue. You decide to let your actions speak for you.

Your delicate fingers wrap around his delicious thickness. You swipe the first signs of precum glistening over his tip with your thumb, and a low sound of pleasure rumbles in his chest.

“Is this what you had in mind?”

He sounds like he’s in pain, and you shake your head with a playful smile curling at your lips. “Sit back on the couch.”

Spencer sinks into the cushion.

“This might get a little messy.”

His brow furrows slightly, and for a moment, he looks genuinely intrigued. What he doesn’t expect is the way you slowly pour the remaining liquid down your chest. His mouth parts in surprise, and then his gaze follows every single drop like it’s gravity itself pulling him in.

You’re mesmerizing. Always have been, actually. There is no doubt in Spencer’s mind that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met in his life. Your mind is brilliant. Your heart is kind. But watching the champagne mix with the sheen of sweat on your skin, you’re something else entirely. You look lethal. A different kind of captivating.

He’s already pulling you by the waist, and you’re a mass of giggles as you twist out of his grip to set the bottle safely aside. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Can you blame me?”

Honestly, you can’t. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably look at him the same way.

When his hands finally find your hips again, there’s no point in pretending you don’t want to be caught. You bend your knees and shift on the couch. He helps you swing your thigh over his own and deposits you in his lap.

Desperate is a good enough word to depict for him because as soon as you're close enough, he’s tasting you all over again. His tongue drags slow over the curve of your shoulder, across the hollow of your throat, and down to the soft swell of your breasts. Goosebumps ripple across your skin with every pass, every flick of his tongue, his touch leaving a trail of heat that you swear you can feel seeping into your bones.

You don’t even realize when you start to move until you feel the slow, unintentional rock of your hips into him. His cock fits snugly between your folds that you start grinding as the words fall from your lips without much thought, “What do you think of sex without a condom?”

His pupils dilated, lips parting, but no sound comes out right away.

"Spence?"

His gaze flickers to where your wet bodies are pressed together. Damp moisture from his tip smeared erotically between puffy lips, clear liquid coating his hard length.

“I think… it’s very intimate."

“Too intimate?”

"No." His fingers trail along your skin before his thumb settles just under your breast, in the delicate curve where your rib meets, and finally looks at you. "Is that what you want?"

You're bobbing your head up and down.

“Then I'd really, really like that.”

You shift your weight on your knees. “So you trust me?"

"More than anyone."

“I trust you too,” you say, your voice dipping low as your fingers wrap around his cock, guiding him to your entrance. “Can I request something, though?"

"Anything."

You pause just long enough for your words to land. “I don’t want you to come inside me.”

He exhales a soft laugh. “That can be arranged.”

His answer makes your lips twitch, but as you start to sink down, your body seems to have other ideas. There’s a resistance you didn’t expect, a sudden tautness that refuses to give.

Your eyes widen in surprise.

Oh my.

“What’s wrong?”

When you first wrapped your hand around him and took in the full reality of his size, you’d been impressed. Now you wonder if maybe you underestimated just how much he has to offer.

You bite the insides of your cheeks and try again.

“It’s been a while,” you confess quietly. You can’t even recall the last time you were this intimate with someone that the hesitation feels foreign, like a hiccup in a moment you’ve been eagerly anticipating.

And you are eager. Maybe a little too much. It feels almost ironic, considering how much you’ve thought about this, how your imagination has filled in the blanks a hundred times over. Now that it’s real, your body seems to be having second thoughts your mind absolutely isn’t entertaining.

You shift your hips, determination flaring as you take a slow breath. Left, right, up, down. But then a sharp sting shoots through you. Your face quickly twists into a grimace.

"Hey,” he calls gently, thumbs brushing gentle circles against your hip. “We can stop. You don’t have to push yourself.”

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You want him to push past whatever invisible barrier your body is putting up. The idea of stopping now feels more unbearable than the sting itself.

Your lips press into a stubborn frown. “No,” you say firmly. “We are not stopping.”

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm. I think my body's just being weird. I'm sorry."

His brows knits together almost immediately. “I should be the one apologizing.”

Frustration suddenly wells up in your chest, and this time your teeth sinks into your lip, unsure whether it’s the tension in the muscles between your legs or the ache of wanting him that feels stronger.

And you want him. So fucking bad.

“You need to relax,” he soothes, running his hands up your waist, past your ribs, across your back.

“I am relaxed,” you huff.

“I don’t think you’re relaxed enough.”

Before you can respond, he carefully lifts you from his lap and settles you back onto the couch. The cushions dips under your weight, and you barely have time to process the change before he gracefully drops to the floor.

“Should we move to your bed?”

He grips one of your ankles, his thumb brushing along the soft curve of your bone before he leans down, pressing warm lips to the skin above it.

“After this,” you reply, glancing at the sticky champagne trail still glistening faintly on your skin. “Don’t want my sheets getting sticky.”

There’s a flicker of amusement on his handsome face. “After this?”

“Did you think we’d be stopping after one round?”

His laughter vibrates against your calf. “How many times are we talking then?”

“Until I can’t feel my legs.”

The smile he gives you is slow and warm. It curves one corner of his mouth first, almost shy, before spreading fully, lighting up his face in a way that steals the breath right from your lungs.

“You’d let me have my way with you all night?”

“I’d probably let you have me anytime you want.”

His grin is almost blinding that you can’t help but give him a pleased smile of your own.

“Let’s focus on tonight first.” He moves to your other the leg. Delicate bone and tendon brushes against his lips. “I need to get you ready for me. Would you let me do that?"

Words fail you as his mouth moves closer, and the heat of his breath against your skin makes your entire body tense in anticipation. He presses another open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"You're still tense."

Kiss. Kiss.

“Really need you to relax.”

You try, but then again, it's impossible when his lips are so close, yet still not where you need them the most.

His name slips in a desperate whisper.

"Hm?"

"Stop teasing."

His lips quirk in response, but he doesn't argue.

He dips his head and finally— finally! —drags his tongue along your achingly wet folds. Your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

"Better?"

The question is entirely rhetorical.

You don’t bother answering. Words seem sparse when his actions are spelling out everything you need to know in bold, underlined strokes. His touch is distinctly different from the playful, champagne-dampened kisses he had gifted your skin.

Now he’s utterly focused. He’s researching, and it appears his diligence isn’t confined to his academic when the same focus he applies to his studies is translated so flawlessly into reading your body like a favorite book. One he’s intent on memorizing every line of, delighting in every pause and whisper between the chapters of your sighs.

It’s this thought that tickles the back of your mind when he slips a finger in. He’s always been about comprehensive understanding, and well, you’re all about empirical evidence. Right now is proof of a hypothesis you’re too pleased to confirm that Spencer Reid might just be a genius in more ways than one.

Especially in how his steady thrust of his finger syncs perfectly with the hot, wet pull of his mouth, scratching such a carnal itch that it resonates deep in your brain. You sigh in pleasure when he adds another finger, and he lifts his head then, lips shiny and pink from his ministration.

"Do you think you can take a third?"

Your heart gives a few extra thuds in your chest cavity. “Please, please.”

Look at you, reducing yourself into begging, but really, how could you resist? Who could withstand the intensity of his gaze, the way his voice dips low like velvet wrapping around your senses?

Your head tips back against the couch, a soft whimper lashing out as he adds that third finger. The stretch is almost overwhelming but oh so good.

"Does it hurt?"

You let out a loud exhale. "No."

"Tell me if it hurts."

"Feels good." Your legs fall apart even further. "Don't stop."

He smiles, and then he's doing things to your body that have you questioning how you're even still breathing. The wet, sticky slosh of your arousal fills the room, a sound so explicit it should mortify you. But then three knuckles press deeper, stroking against that rougher patch of nerves and all rational thought dissolves.

A sound you didn't even know you could make escapes your throat. You're gasping, moaning, a little bit squealing as his free hand slides up your plush thigh before finding your puffy clit. And dear god, you’re choking on the breath that lodges in your throat. You're so close it's almost unbearable. A hand shoots out, and you’re gripping his forearm with a desperation you can't even pretend to hide.

You need him inside you.

“I'm ready," you gasp harshly, your lips parting in quick, desperate puffs. "I'm ready. I’m ready.”

He has the audacity to shake his head.

"I'll decide when you're ready."

Your breath stutters even more.

Why does that sound so hot? Why does that simple, infuriatingly calm statement make your thighs clench, your pulse race, and a fresh wave of heat roll through your body?

Before you know it, he’s coaxing your orgasm from you with just the right pressure, and every movement feels like it’s designed to bring you right to the edge. You’re not surprised by how wet you are, you’ve been dripping for what feels like hours. But what does surprise you is just how much your body can take. The intensity that doesn’t wane, that keeps pushing you higher, drawing out gasp after gasp until hot syrup gushes out of you in long, sticky droplets that pool on his fingers, down to the couch.

It’s endless, relentless, and you can’t even tell where one orgasm ends and the next begins. Your hand claw at his wrist.

“Spencer,” you whine, your voice breaking on the syllables. “Sensitive.”

He stops immediately, his fingers still inside you, his other hand slipping from your clit to rest on your thigh. “Too much?”

“A little,” you smile breathlessly. “C’mere.”

He crawls towards you as you lay on your back, relaxing your thighs.

His eyes trail over you, scanning your sweat-slicked skin, lingering on your perky breasts, moving down to where your legs are fallen apart, waiting for him. The sight is so overwhelmingly enticing that he finds himself wrapping a hand around his cock, muttering a low praise under his breath, “I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you are.”

Your eyes flick downward, and a spark of confidence—or maybe pure desperation—pushes your reply out without hesitation.

“Tell me again while you fuck me.”

You’re so blunt and shameless that a part of you might have blushed if you weren’t so far gone. Spencer doesn’t seem fazed, though. If anything, his eyes flash with a knowing sparkle that only deepens as he presses his bulbous head right at the shy of your entrance.

“I think I’m going to enjoy telling you,” he muses.

And Spencer is one to keep his promises.

He thinks you’re devastatingly pretty when he’s sinking into you. There’s a dazed look in your glossy eyes, and the sweetest sound coming from your lips as he stretches you in a way that leaves no part of you untouched.

He sings praises under his breath when the heavy weight of him finally settles deep inside your body. He patiently waits as your walls flutter around him, all the while his lips brushes the delicate curve of your collarbone, between low, broken whispers of how perfect you are.

Although perfection might not even capture the essence of what he sees in you at this moment. You’re a breathtaking array of contradictions. Powerful and vulnerable, fierce yet tender. You’re nothing short of divine as he gives another smooth, long thrust that pulls a sound from your lips that he knows will echo in his mind long after.

The heat of you surrounds him completely, and he swears he feels every pulse of your body welcoming him deeper. You’re slathering his entire cock with your slippery slick, and the dampness imprinting against his pelvis only seems to spur him on. He moves in steady, languid strokes, and your toes curl at the sensation burning in your belly.

He’s hitting you so good your ankles find themselves running down his back.

“Spence,” your voice is raspy and wet. “Fuck me harder.”

His quiet groan harmonizes with the rhythm of your heart. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t—”

You stop, and he looks through the mist of bliss you've shrouded him in. Your face twists, eyes going wide, lips parted to take in sharp breaths. He panics for a moment.

“You’re in pain,” he decides, reading the way your brows knit together, the way your breath stutters in your chest. It seems the most logical conclusion—until he realizes how wrong he is.

Because you’re writhing under his weight when he pushes in deeper, and your mouth trembles, not with discomfort, but with something devastatingly good.

“Oh,” he exhales. His smile is uncharacteristically smug. “It’s not pain, is it?”

You shake your head.

“You want it rough.”

It’s more of a statement than it is a question, but you’re nodding vigorously.

His restraint snaps like a frayed thread.

The next thrust is sharper, it pounds into you with enough force to shift your body slightly back against the cushions. Your lips mouth around another shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

Still. Not. Enough.

“Harder,” you slur against his tongue.

What’s a hot-blooded man to do when asked so sweetly? He answers in the only way he can.

A hand curls around the back of your knee to pull you open just enough for him to drive deeper. The angle makes you feel impossibly full, how the folds of your vulva hugs around his shaft greedily, letting him claim all the space you didn’t even know existed. You can even feel the wet drag of his cock against your swollen clit with each hard thrust, a sensation so piercing it rips a gasp from your throat and a plethora of groans wailing from the couch.

“Like this?”

The relentless thwack-thwack-thwack of skins colliding is making you delirious.

“Yes,” you cry out. “Fuck—Yes. Yes.”

Your vision blurs as you blink, and—god, you think you might actually cry. And honestly, with how full you feel, with how every nerve is sparking to life under his loud rhythm, it wouldn’t even surprise you.

Your lashes feel wet as you squeeze your eyes shut, but you force them back open, unwilling to miss the way he looks above you. Jaw tight, sweat beading at his temples, eyes locked on you like nothing else exists.

Nothing probably does, not when he moves with a rhythm that feels both gentle and crude, like he’s savoring every second so sweetly while simultaneously chasing the most carnal kind of pleasure known to mankind.

Pleasure that has you melting, pleasure that has your body fully acclimating to his size. And now you’re teetering on the edge of another intense orgasm that begins its ascent from the tips of your toes and fingertips, spiraling a tingling rush up through your legs and arms, gathering force at the pit of your stomach, and exploding into the point where you’re intimately connected.

It happens all at once.

You’re trembling.

You’re shattering.

You’re pathetically whining.

Euphoria floods every inch of your body until you’re drowning in it. A liquid fire in your veins. Your cunt clenches around him, so tight you swear you feel every ridge and vein of his cock as keeps pressing you into the couch. Again and again and again, until you’re nothing but an incoherent mess, your words blabbered in a breathless rush of pleasure-induced nonsense.

One heartbeat stretches into two, then the muscles in his arms flexes as his pace falters. He’s shaking now, his pelvis moving in hurried, shallow thrusts as though he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach before the heat of him presses into you one last time.

He abruptly pulls out, his cock visibly pulsing in his hand and strokes himself with a stuttering groan as thick, pearly ropes splutters across your stomach. His fingers dig deeper into the back of your thigh while he continues to paint your skin in messy streaks, and you watch in fascination the moment his head tilts back in pure, unfiltered pleasure.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this beautiful.

His brows pinches in concentration for a few more seconds before his gaze slowly meets yours again, and a faint, blissful pink colors his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly, looking a little out of breath. Devastatingly handsome and sweaty. Flustered in the best way.

You brush the damp hair sticking to his skin with a small, satisfied smile. “Are you kidding? That was extremely hot.”

His laughter fills every corner in the room. Then his hand drift down a comforting path down your thigh as he leans to capture the giggle tumbling from your lips with his own. It’s then you realize that kissing Spencer isn’t just enjoyable, it’s downright addictive.

You’re beginning to think he’s just as addicted to you too, because when he pulls away, it’s reluctant, his lips leaving yours with a faint, wet sound that lingers as sweetly as the kiss itself.

“Will you really let me have my way with you all night?” he asks gently, and you can’t help but wonder why he even feels the need to ask.

“Was I not obvious enough?”

You feel his smile before you see it. “Bedroom now?”

To tangle your naked limbs with his again sounds pretty close to heaven. Absolute, indulgent heaven, except for the distinct stickiness of champagne, sweat, and a cocktail of other body fluids clinging to your skin. The thought of sinking into cool clean sheets in this state makes your nose scrunch.

“We need to make a stop to the bathroom first,” you say, running a hand up his arm to squeeze his bicep. “Have you ever tried shower sex?”

“Can’t say that I have,” he admits truthfully.

You make a sound of disapproval.

“We definitely need to change that.”

Spencer realizes a lot of things can change in one night.

He also discovers how much he’s capable of learning in such a short period of time. Granted, he’s always been a quick study, but this is different. The hours between midnight and sunrise completely upend his understanding of things he’d only ever read about—sex, intimacy, the intricacies of how touch can feel as much like a language as words.

But beyond the newfound knowledge (and let’s face it, an entirely new appreciation for his muscles), there’s something else. Something that surprises him even more.

He likes waking up with another warm body beside him. More than likes it. There’s a strange kind of peace in the way your leg drapes over his, your hair a tousled mess against the pillow. Peace that makes him wonder if this, too, is something he could get used to.

Even if you’re hogging the blanket. He can feel the cool air on his back while you’re wrapped in most of the covers, leaving him to soak up whatever body heat he can steal by staying pressed against you. Not that he’s complaining. He’d happily stay like this for hours, but the sun is already creeping higher through your window, and your phone has been vibrating nonstop ever since he opened his eyes.

The sheets rustle as he shifts closer, mouth puffing warmly on your cheek with a breath of your name folding into your skin. You blink through heavy eyelids, and Spencer thinks you look adorable all wrapped up like a cocoon in the tangled linens.

“Hey," you croak, then clear your throat. “Morning.”

The soft rasp of your voice is even as endearing as the sight of you.

“I think we’ve already passed morning,” he says, slipping a hand under the covers, finding the goosebumps prickling on your upper arm.

“We slept in?”

“My guess is it’s almost noon.” There’s another buzz vibrating from the bedside table that stops him from pressing you against his chest. “Someone keeps calling you.”

He wonders if you can sense the slight annoyance in his voice. He wonders if he even has the right to be annoyed. It's Saturday. You clearly have plans—or at least someone thinks you do based on how persistent they've been.

If you catch the flicker of irritation in his voice, you don’t acknowledge it. You stretch lazily for your phone instead, and his attention is momentarily snagged by the way the sheet slips down your shoulder, revealing the constellation of freckles and moles he’s spent the entire night memorizing with his lips.

"Nobody’s calling.” Your thumb scrolls through the notifications. "Penelope just doesn't understand the concept of personal space when she texts."

Spencer feels the tightness in his shoulders ease, though he doesn't miss the way your eyes narrow into sleepy slits at the screen.

"Oh."

That one syllable is enough to set his mind buzzing.

"What?"

"Um."

It’s the subtle crack in your voice that hooks him. He’s never been good at sitting with unanswered questions, especially not when your expression shifts just enough to make him wonder what could possibly warrant that little noise.

He finally curls an arm around your waist, and the faint trace of your scent fills his lungs as he gently draws you back against his chest. A relentless stream of messages glares up at him over your shoulder.

Penelope [Sent 23:37]: Where are you?? Penelope [Sent 23:45]: Is reid with you? Penelope [Sent 00:05]: Did you leave? WITH HIM?? Penelope [Sent 00:17]: You did, didn't you? Penelope [Sent 00:33]: You can’t just vanish like this, you know I have questions!!!

Spencer barely registers the way his hand drifts down to rest against your stomach. He pulls you in unconsciously as his eyes scan over the flood of texts that started piling up this morning.

Penelope [Sent 09:19]: Good morning. Penelope [Sent 09:25]: Answer me. Penelope [Sent 10:24]: Seriously, are you alive? Penelope [Sent 10:39]: YOU OWE ME DETAILS. Penelope [Sent 10:48]: Last chance. Calling you in ten.

"I think she's onto us."

It’s not so much a matter of thought as it is a fact. Your words are less a theory and more a confirmation of reality, as undeniable as the relentless stream of texts lighting up your phone.

"What should I tell her?"

Spencer leans in closer. The soft scent of your shampoo drifts up, clean and faintly sweet, wrapping itself around him in a way that makes his chest ache, though he’s not sure why. He’s inhaling everything—your warmth, the curve of your shoulder brushing his chest, the way your voice carries an edge of hesitation that feels so out of place for someone like you.

And that’s what truly catches him off guard. Not the fact that Penelope is practically banging on a metaphorical door with her texts, but that you’re hesitating. You, who rarely second-guess yourself, now unsure about sharing the details of last night with one of closest people in your life.

Or maybe the surprise lies closer to home. How easily the words form in his own mind, bypassing the overthinking that usually rules him.

He has ten minutes to think before Penelope supposedly calls, but he doesn’t need ten minutes, or even ten seconds, because the answer is already there, so obvious it practically tumbles out of him.

"The truth," he hums against the crown of your hair. "You should tell her the truth."

You’re quiet for a while.

“Are you sure?"

For someone who invited him into your home, who let him press you into the couch cushions, spread you out on the cool tiles of the bathroom, and pull every sound he wanted from you on the soft give of your mattress—on your back, your front, even sideways—you seem awfully uncertain now. Very out of character.

So what’s changed this morning? Is it the stale morning breath he’s sure he hasn’t fixed yet? The mess of his curls sticking up in every direction from a night spent pressed into your pillows?

Or is it something much deeper that he hasn’t quite put his finger on?

The thought clings to him as his thumb brushes your stomach. "I’m sure," he says. "Are you?"

You hesitate for a beat too long, and that tiny pause lands heavy on his chest.

"This is going to change everything," you finally say, sounding somewhat like a warning.

He frowns. "Didn’t you want it to?"

"I did. I do." You pull in a breath that shakes on the way out. "Maybe we should discuss this before we say anything to anyone."

Your phone slips quietly onto the bed as you twist in his arms. Face to face.

"Do you like me?"

What kind of question is that?

"Did I seem not to like you last night?"

"No, Spencer, I need to hear it. Do you like me?"

He studies the delicate fold between your brows. He watches the quiver on your parted lips. And your eyes—watery and glossy and wide. Soft lashes framing the quiet expanse of irises that shimmer like glass.

He knows what you need. Spencer has spent most of his entire life reading people, pulling truths out of their silences and decoding what they can’t (or won’t) say. And even though he hates applying that skill to you, he knows this isn’t just about reassurance. You’re not only questioning what happened between you last night. You’re questioning what comes next.

The time glares from your phone over your shoulder: six minutes. That’s all he has to convince you that his feelings go far beyond fleeting lust or the heady haze of alcohol. Six minutes before Penelope inevitably interrupts.

But he’s not the greatest with words, is he?

Sure, he’s read more books than most people will touch in a lifetime. He can recite Edgar Allan Poe by heart and dissect layers of meaning in Dostoevsky’s prose like it’s second nature. But his own feelings don’t come wrapped in poetic declarations. That’s not who he is.

What he can do, though, is tell you the truth.

“You know how you told me I could have you anytime I want?”

A strand of hair brushes against your cheek as you nod.

“You’ve already had me from the very beginning.”

Your gaze softens, then you sigh sweetly, and he knows without a doubt that the truth is exactly what you need. “Before all the sex?”

“Before we even kissed.”

The distance between you slowly becomes nonexistent. You slot your knee between his thighs, a lick of smile curling at the corner of your lips.

“So… when I ran my foot up your leg?”

His lopsided smile is no different from yours. “No.”

“Last week when I wore your cardigan because the AC got too cold?”

“You looked really pretty in it, but no.”

“Last month?”

“Even before that.”

You click your tongue. “Give me a clue. A hint.”

But you don’t need clues. Clues are for puzzles, for cases that demand solving. This has never been a mystery. He’s known it for longer than he cares to admit, and he wonders if you’re asking because you genuinely don’t see it or because you just want to hear him say it.

Either way, he’ll happily say the truth as plainly as it exists in his mind.

“From the moment you joined the team.” You pause for just a heartbeat, and he reaches out to brush away the stray of hair slipping down into your eyes. “You probably didn't notice, but I couldn't stop staring at you.”

“You’re lying,” you accuse softly.

“I’m a terrible liar.”

He watches as you mull over his words. He knows you’re trying to decide whether to believe him, though he doesn’t think it’s really a question of if. You already know he’s telling the truth.

Your voice is awfully quiet that he has to perk his ears for it.

“What took you so long then?”

Because while he’s a terrible liar, he’s always been painfully good at keeping his heart to himself. Years of compartmentalizing, of burying emotions under layers of logic and detachment, have made it almost second nature. And maybe that’s why it took him so long.

That, and bad timing.

Countless abductions.

A never-ending chase after unsubs.

Death of a team mate.

And prison.

God, prison.

He wonders if these are valid reasons or just excuses. Had there ever been a perfect moment? Or had he let his fears and the chaotic nature of his job push his personal happiness to the sidelines too often?

The words knot in his throat, and in the end, all he can muster is an apology.

“I’m sorry.”

For waiting so long.

For not saying this sooner.

For only finding the courage to make a move under the guise of flirtation and champagne.

He’s selfish. He is. Because he's reaching for you based on his time, his terms, waiting until he was ready to fit you neatly into his schedule. But you simply shake your head. Because that's what you are, isn't it?

You’re selfless, and so profoundly lovely that you offered yourself to him last night without reservation. And now you’re even more radiant, wrapped in the soft light of vulnerability, tinged with doubt, yet always so giving. Pulling him closer to your chest with a hand on his back. Fingers splay across his skin, nails dragging idly along his spine.

“Don’t be,” you reply, feeling his body expand and deflate under your palm when he breathes. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

See? Selfless. The least he can do now is give you back the words you need to hear, the assurance you deserve to hear. Your foreheads press together, and he reverently lays his hand on your cheek, spreading lean fingers into your hair.

“If you must know, I do like you.”

But the word feels so inadequate for what he’s finally trying to tell you. Like doesn't even scratch the surface of how much space you take up in his mind.

"I more than like you,” he decides to add.

It doesn’t take long before you kiss him. Soft petals bloom warmly against his mouth, puffing humid breath he tastes on his tongue. A blissful moan he swallows greedily, lets it settle deep in his chest, his bones, his veins, filling every corner of him with the sweetest weight of you.

A flutter of lashes skims against his cheekbone when you tilt your head, pulling back by the barest inch. “You’ve made a huge mistake, by the way.”

The pad of his fingers presses gently on your scalp. “Why?”

“You’re never getting rid of me now.”

His thumb moves against your hairline as he takes in your words. For a moment, all he can do is absorb them, replay them, savor them. Then his eyes soften, the corners crinkling with genuine delight, and he lets out a soft huff of laughter that melts right into the narrow space between you.

He scoots impossibly closer, hoping your skin will somehow mold with his. Because after all the surprisingly creative positions he discovered with you last night, it’s the only conclusion he can come to: you fit into him. Perfectly. Soft curves finding their place against the lines of his frame, every piece of you adhering like glue to his skin.

Chest to chest, nose to nose, and lips so maddeningly close to yours that he can still taste the warmth of your breath, sweet and intoxicating in its nearness. It’s enough to drive him a little insane, though he’d argue he’s always been slightly off-center where you’re concerned.

His fingers twitch, ready to close that infinitesimal gap when the sharp buzz of your phone suddenly slices through the moment.

Six minutes.

That’s all the time the universe has granted him, and it’s woefully too short.

"Might need to block her number," you mutter under your breath as you shift slightly to reach for your phone. He watches the way your fingers fly over the screen rapidly before placing the device back on the side table.

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth." Then you drop on him like a dead weight, limbs tangling in the most inconvenient ways until your head is tucked in the crook of his neck. "Also sent her an eggplant and water emoji.”

A crease forms between his brows. “What does that mean?”

You fail to keep in your laughter. “You don’t want to know.”

He’s fairly certain he does want to know. In fact, he’s starting to realize he wants to know everything about you now that you’ve given him the chance. Beyond the pull of bodies and the way they slot together so seamlessly, beyond the electricity of skin against skin.

Though he can’t deny his curiosity at one precise moment, the way you’d slightly gasped when his fingers accidentally brush around the base of your throat. He wouldn’t mind knowing what that meant for you, and, surprisingly, what that even implied for himself.

But as intriguing as that is, it’s not what lingers the most. It’s the subtleties he wants to unravel, the pieces of you he hadn’t even realized he’d been aching to explore.

Your wit, your thoughts, your mind—that lovely, intricate thing he’s admired for so long. Full of nuances and depths he hadn’t even realized he’d only been skimming the surface of. He’s sure there’s something far greater than even his endless mind could have imagined that ties to the beautiful shape of you.

And you’re so beautiful. He’s known that for years, but mere hours ago, he learned it in an entirely new language. Even when he understands seven different ways the world chooses to communicate and speaks four fluently, yours is his favorite.

Yours doesn’t need words or perfect pronunciation. It’s instinctive and warm, written in every sigh, every glance, every unspoken verse that linger in the subtle shift of your body. In every nuance of your taste.

God, your taste.

He knows you’re right, skin can��t be sweet. The dichotomy isn’t lost in him. Yet it doesn’t matter, because not even the crisp, effervescent bite of champagne compares to the warmth of you. Not even sugar, and he basically lives on sugar. In chocolate-sprinkled donuts that he grabs on the way to work, in the endless cups of coffee that fuel his day.

You’re something else entirely, beyond comprehension.

And if one night was enough to saccharine his senses with you, he can only imagine what forever could do.

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