#what are we even calling her nowadays

[bishopony]

bubbles

[hella1975]

loveeeeeeee when my one very spoilt flatmate says some shit about how she treats her mum/how she talks to her mum and me and my other flatmate just look at each other for a silent moment and both just go 'no id be dead'

[astrxealis]

astarion... the man that you are.....

[peanutpinet]

Little Things - Sylus x Isekai Fem Reader

Summary: When your consciousness somehow ended up in the LADS MC’s body right as Sylus’ character was released. You went through what the MC was supposed to do in the game and while waiting for the next update, you’ve gotten closer to Sylus that he treats you with everything you couldn’t have in your world

A/N: I can’t help but make a fic where you took over the MC’s body and became the MC. Though in this fic, Sylus already knows that you’re not exactly the MC yet he’s also not complaining about your company and even started to open up to you and even allow you to use his money but he’s confused as to why you’re not spending as much as he thought

I was inspired by a fic that I read on Tumblr by @atoltia

Sequel: Welcome to My World

Disclaimer: I do not own the images nor the characters or you (the MC). All images were taken from Pinterest.

Warning: will be using MC instead of (Y/N) as it’s easier for me, fluff, slight angst (no character death), overthinker MC, soft Sylus

“You go talk to him” Luke nudged his twin brother who stared back at him thinking that he was crazy

“Are you crazy? I’m not talking to him. Have you seen how he’s been the past few weeks? He’s been on his phone, checking something out almost every day unless he’s with MC” Kieran replied back as both he and Luke were eyeing Sylus who was in his study, wearing some comfortable clothing and glasses while scrolling through his phone

“Do you think that he’s planning to do something for MC? Like maybe propose to her? I mean. ever since their first meeting, he’s been different? More attentive towards MC. He even gave her the brooch which is the direct access to the N109 zone. He even let her drive his cars and do whatever she wanted with the place though I like her style. It feels more homey nowadays” Luke pointed out and Kieran agreed with his twin

The twins kept on talking in front of the study room until Sylus had it and called the twins inside. “I know you both are out there. Either come in and report what you want to report or leave before I stop letting either of you peek around”

Immediately, the twins walked into the study where they saw their boss still not looking up from his phone. The twins looked at each other before agreeing to speak at the same time.

“We cleaned up at the next like you said” Kieran mentioned

“Are you going to propose to MC?” Luke mentioned

The twins looked at each other, confused that their twin telepathy was not working when they needed it. Hearing a grunt, the twins immediately apologised and begged Sylus to not hurt them or worse; make them clean the entire penthouse.

“What Luke meant was how is MC?” Kieran quickly changed his twin’s wording

“Yea. That’s what I meant. I mean, you seem to be glued to your phone boss. We assume that it’s because of MC so we were wondering if anything happened to her or if you need us to watch her?” Luke added on

“Actually, perhaps you can watch her for me” Sylus mentioned and the twins sighed of relief until they heard the next words come out of Sylus’ mouth. “I’d like to know why isn’t she using my card like I expected her to”

The twins looked at each other, confused once more. “What do you mean she’s not using your card, sir?” Kieran asked

“Do you think she lost it? Or perhaps she gave it to someone and that’s why her spending is crazy” Luke added on and for the first time, the twins saw their boss put his phone down only to open up several holographic files; specifically transactions from his card

“No. It’s quite the opposite actually. She has my card. She uses it but not as much as I thought. She’s only spending on the daily necessities and occasionally a book or two. Never any jewellery, any new clothing. She only bought one hairdryer set and never any other hair tools except a brush and clips and even those are cheap. The most she spent was just a water dispenser and an air fryer. What, does she think that she’s being stingy if she were to spend a lot of my money? Or perhaps she wants to seem more independent? What if she thinks that I’m in debt?” Sylus kept going on until the twins stopped him

“Uh, boss. I don’t think it’s any of those reasons” Luke mentioned, catching Sylus’ attention. “What do you mean, Luke?”

“I mean. I’ve, we’ve, talked to her sometimes and she just mentioned that she doesn’t know what to use all the money for. I don’t think that she thinks you’re in debt or feel bad about using your money. It’s just that she’s not used to it. Not used to having a lot of money that she’s overwhelmed?” Luke explained while Sylus had a deep thought

“Overwhelmed? It’s the first I heard of this. You would think that when someone has this amount of money in the palm of their hands, they would go crazy almost immediately” Sylus replied

“Well, she’s not like most people, sir” Luke added on and that’s what got Sylus to get up from his study room and go to find MC

Sylus looked around for you in the penthouse from the kitchen, living room, the guest bedroom where you typically like to be when you’re alone, and finally, his bedroom which is practically your shared bedroom ever since an incident that happened early in your meeting together.

As he was walking towards the master bedroom, Sylus could hear some music playing. Slowly opening the door to the room, Sylus peeked in and saw your small figure on the bed, humming to the music that was playing from your phone at the same time doing something.

Smiling to himself, Sylus decided to lean by the door as he made himself noticed by you. “Sweetie, what are you doing in here all alone?”

Looking up from your hands, you looked at Sylus who put on that soft smile only for you. “Hi Sy. I’m just trying to stitch up a T-shirt of mine. I’m almost done. Do you need help to make dinner?” you asked, finishing up the T-shirt you were stitching as Sylus made his way towards you

“No. I’ve decided to order in for tonight. I got your favourites” Sylus mentioned as you hummed

“There we go. Finally done. So, dinner?” you mentioned, placing down the T-shirt you were sewing which made Sylus chuckled

“It’s on its way, sweetheart. Which means…” Sylus grabbed your hand and yanked you towards him, laying down on the bed together as he held you close. “We have a bit of time to ourselves before dinner comes”

Giggling at his clingy behaviour, you accepted defeat that you couldn’t fight him on this and just leaned your head to his chest, listening to his slightly abnormal fast heartbeat while feeling Sylus’ fingers going through your hair.

“Sweetie…” Sylus called you while you hummed, feeling a bit drowsy

“Why do you work so hard to sew your T-shirt when you could’ve bought a new one? You know that I can find someone to make the exact same one with the same materials and everything” Sylus mentioned

“I know” you answered, drawing circles on Sylus’ chest while continuing. “I know that you could most probably buy anything I want and more. But while all that sounds good, it’s the little things, the memories that come with what I have now that matter”

“Is that so?” Sylus asked, as if he was still unsure of your answer and the tone he used made you look up at him. “Is there something wrong with my answer? Was it not what you expected? Along with how I’ve been using your card?” you asked back which made Sylus chuckle

“You know me so well, don’t you kitten?” Sylus chuckled, caressing your cheek with his large hands now making you giggle

“I mean, I’ve been observing you longer than you observing me. But you should know, I’m more than grateful for you giving me your card. It’s an incredible privilege and it makes me know how much trust you have in me. Though, I don’t need all that when I can do all the little things with you. Even as simple as cleaning together or moments like right now is what I cherish the most” you mentioned and using his hand that was on your cheek, Sylus gently lifted your face as he gave your lips one of the softest kisses you ever had whilst caressing your cheek at the same time

Pulling away, you were met with Sylus’ soft gaze and smile once again and instantly felt the heat rush to your cheeks as you questioned him. “W-what’s with the sudden affection”

Smirking, Sylus pulled your smaller body with him as he sat on the bed, leaning at the headboard. “Why not? You said you cherish the little things and moments. If you won’t accept being spoiled by my wealth then I might as well spoil you with what you actually want, isn’t that right?”

Hearing those words out of his mouth made your head feel light. Throughout your life back home, you rarely get any affection from those close to you; resulting in indulging yourself with what used to be a “silly game” until you somehow ended up in the silly game yourself.

You closed your eyes, worried that water that was building in your eyes would spill because of the constant worry and thought that this was all just a dream. Noticing your quiet self, Sylus grew worried and cupped your face with both his hands and saw that a tear managed to slip out of your eye. “Sweetie? What’s wrong? Was I pressuring you?”

Shaking your head, you managed to reply to him. “No. You’re not. It’s just…I’m, I worry”

“Worry? About what sweetheart? Take your time. I got you” Sylus replied

“I…you know I don’t belong here and yet you still spoil me. What if one day, I somehow wake up and I’m back in my own world? What if one day when you wake up, it’s who you were supposed to meet that greets you? What if…” Sylus didn’t let you continue as he immediately kissed you once again, though this time was slightly rough with a sense of urgency

“I don’t want any what ifs, kitten. You’re here. In my arms. My lips are on yours. Your body might be someone else’s but your soul is what I care more about. Even if one day you go back. I’ll find a way. Against all odds, I’ll find a way back to you even if it’s against the universe” Sylus stated, his grip on your face getting a bit tighter as if he was afraid that you’d slip away

“Sylus…” you softly called him, holding his hand that was on your face when Sylus grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers together

“You feel this? It’s real. Just like me. Just like right now. So stop saying these things or do you need me to show you how real this is?” Sylus mentioned, his tone was a bit harsh but soft at the same time

“You’re crazy you know that. Defying the universe to go to another” you pouted but it successfully made Sylus chuckle

“I am. I would do that you know” Sylus took your hand and kissed the knuckles. “I’d do whatever it takes to find you”

“But you don’t know what I actually look like” you argued

“I know your name, your age, how you act” Sylus replies, making you chuckle

“You really are a stubborn crow, aren’t you?” you teased and Sylus leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Only for you, sweetie”

“Come. Dinner should be arriving. We can put on that show you’ve been wanting to watch. Or we can do something else” Sylus mentioned, picking you up so suddenly that you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck

“Can we just chill on the sofa with some chill movie and cuddle?” you asked

Smiling, Sylus kissed you again. “Anything you want, sweetie. We’re making the most together and appreciating all the little things, remember?”

Sylus then brought the two of you to the living room where he let you turn on the TV and ate dinner together, wrapping a blanket around the two of you as you both enjoyed the rest of the night basking in each other’s embrace and enjoying these small intimate moments together.

A/N: OMG thank you so much to everyone who has been reading, liking, and reblogging my Sylus fics T^T I truly did not expect so many people enjoy my writing especially the fact that I'm new to the LADS space. If anyone wants to be mutuals on the game, do message me!! Otherwise, thank you for reading and hope this fic managed to brighten your day!! xoxo peanutwott

[aduh0308]

stupid fucking parents [choi beomgyu]

kinktober 2024 !! summary: if you'd never met him, this would be a lot easier. granted, if you never met him, this wouldn't be a problem in the first place. genre: smut, non!idol au, p with little to no plot warnings: stepcest,:stepbrother!beomgyu, perv!gyu, rich!gyu, he’s a year older, sub!gyu, mean dom!reader, dom!gyu, sub!reader, he uses your soap, mommy kink, mommy kink in a condescending way, praise kink, dacryphilia, voyeurism, degradation, exhibitionism, slight spit kink, big dick gyu, handjob, blowjob, titjob, readers tits are big enough to give said titjob, nipple play (on both), he’s got sensitive nipples, sending nudes, lots of smut, masturbation, fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex (pull out method), creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mentions of cunnilingus, beomgyu refers to himself as ‘gyu’, reader calls him 'dumb pup', 'slut' 'whore', 'pet', 'good boy’, ‘pretty boy’, ‘gyu’, and ‘pretty’, beomgyu calls reader ‘pretty girl’, ‘baby’, ‘darling’ and ‘good girl’, mentions of anxiety and depression, he’s lowkey sleazy for 100 words (he fucks someone else), she hits him in the face once and he gets turned on by it, she sucks on his Adams apple for half a second (real), y/m/n is your moms name, and b/d/n is beomgyus dads name bc idk what im doing, take a shot every time I use the word ‘fuck’ (hint: its more than 50) word count: 7.3k 🎧 — rubberband (tate mcrae) + lovers in the night (seori) + the killa (txt)

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the holy matrimony of Ms. y/l/n and Mr. Choi."...

"Fuck, look at you, fucking me like some animal, aren't you?"

"Do you, y/m/n y/l/n, take b/d/n choi, in sickness and in health, through prosperity and through hardship..."

"Dumb pup, can only think with your dick, can't you?"

"I do."

"C-can't, feels so good, gon' cum, pl-please!"

"Do you, b/d/n choi, take y/m/n y/l/n,  in sickness and in health, through prosperity and through hardship..."

"Go ahead, cum like the whore you are..."

"I do."

"Don't make a mess of me, though, can't let everyone out there know i'm fucking my soon-to-be step brother..."

"You may now kiss the bride."

"N-not my fault, fucked you—ah! B-before they even got together..!"

You snap out of your mind's replay of the day’s prior events, eyes on the ground, even as your mom and Beomgyu's dad share their first kiss as husband and wife. You feel eyes on you and look up— it's him, of course it is. And fuck, does he look good. Suit and red tie, brown hair laying just perfectly, you can feel exactly what possessed you to ruin him this morning.

But you can't anymore.

And that's what pisses you off, because Beomgyu was yours before your parents even laid eyes on each other.

That's how they met, actually. You'd been over at his house, dad gone at work, so you two could get up to exactly what you wanted to. Laying on his couch afterwards, his dad had come home, and your mom stopped by to pick you up— she'd dropped you off on her way to work since your car was in the shop.

And it was love at first sight. You couldn't pretend like it wasn't, you saw the way they looked at each other. You just hadn't expected it to escalate to this. Walking back down the aisle together with everyone standing to clap, you can barely keep your eyes on them.

You're crying, but not in happiness. It's selfish, you know. You've seen how happy your mom is nowadays. And she deserves it. But you can't help but feel like you've lost something.

You and Beomgyu are last to leave the altar, following the other groomsmen and bridesmaids into the wedding hall for the afterparty. He tries to grab your arm, but you shake your head at him. You can't do this anymore. It's for real now.

The look on his face is pure hurt and you know it, only heading to sit next to your mother at the dinner table. Soon, you're sucked into conversation with one of her cousins, mind completely off of Beomgyu and your lack of conscience when it comes to him.

After dinner, however, it's time for the first dances of the night. Bride and groom, bride and her father, groom and his mother, and then, your mother's genius idea, a dance for the groom's son and the bride's daughter. Which you'd forgotten all about, until the mc of the night, one of Beomgyu's relatives, calls the both of you up.

You swallow when Beomgyu's hand rests itself on your waist. So gently you almost shiver, he pulls you closer until you're pressed against him in waltzing position. The music is slow, soft, but speeds up until the two of you are just spinning in circles, identical wide grins on your faces.

The song ends with him dipping you, and you come up with an elated grin. That is, until you realize your predicament. You step away from him with a soft smile but a pointed look, and he only nods. He grips your wrist in a hand. Dropping his lips to your ear, he whispers, "Leave early with me? I want to show you around the house."

Right. You'd forgotten that Beomgyu's (significantly larger) house was now yours. God, you have no idea how you’re going to be able to handle this.

You only nod, let him know you'll be ready in an hour, and join the dance floor once more with the rest of your mom's family.

The hour flies by with you teaching multiple line dances to Beomgyu's family, including Cotton Eye Joe and the Wobble, and by the time it's time to leave, you're flushed and breathless. Giggling and taking his hand, you're led to his car.

"Are you wasted?" Beomgyu laughs, helping you in before climbing into the driver's seat.

"No! Didn't drink anything but the kid's lemonade." You flinch when his hand meets your thigh out of habit. Getting the message, he lets it drop to the center console instead.

"Your things are already in your room," he tells you when he pulls into the driveway.

"And where's my room?"

"Across from mine."

You don't have to ask where his room is. You've been in it enough times in the past 3 years to have memorized exactly how many steps it takes to reach it from the front door.

"Alright, sounds good."

Beomgyu opens the front door for you and ushers you in. He opens every door for you to help you find your way around as well. You soon learn that there are 4 bathrooms, 5 bedrooms, a game room, a living room, 2 dining rooms (a formal one and an informal one), a kitchen, and too many closets to count.

When he opens the door to your bedroom, you smile at the coziness of it all. Your things have been put up in an almost identical fashion to how they were in your old room. And there was only one person in this house that knew your room well enough to be able to recreate it to this level of detail.

"Did you do this?" You whisper, turning to him with a look of incredulity.

Beomgyu nods, a small smile pulling at his lips. He flicks the hair out of his face with his pinky, a small habit you've noticed since day one. "Do you like it? I tried my best to do what I remembered, but some things might not be how you're used to..."

"I love it, Gyu, it's perfect." You flop backwards into your new bed, skirt piling around you. Beomgyu slides beside you when you pat the bed—  this might not be the best idea, but right now, you can't think of anything else you’d rather do.

He's taken off his suit jacket, left only in the vest and white shirt and tie, and he looks so good and desirable that you have to close your eyes. He's warm against you, body taut with muscle, and against your better judgment, when Beomgyu's lips meet yours, you don't resist.

He pulls you up and into his room across the hall, dragging you back down with him onto his own bed.

"Gyu, we shouldn't, you're my stepbrother now..." The word leaves you with a bad taste in your mouth, but he shakes his head with a pout.

"Please, need you..." His hands grip the hem of your dress, pulling you closer by your hips, into his lap. You're protesting the whole time, pressing kisses to his lips either way. And oh, the way his whines are so pretty when you slide his dress pants to his ankles make it all worth it.

Tugging at his dick with a scoff, you spit on it once. "What a desperate little slut, wanting to fuck me the night our parents get married, wasn't enough for you this morning, was it?"

Beomgyu shakes his head quickly, tears already beading in his eyes. "N-no, always need more, need you so bad it hurts..."

"Yeah? Gyu needs his dick wet every second of the day, doesn't he? Always such a mess."

He's nothing less than a mess now, drool leaking out the corner of his mouth, wetting the pillow beneath his head. There's a sheen of sweat glossing his face and he writhes beneath you when you squeeze the base of his dick. "P— please, 'm gonna, gon' cum if you don't stop, stop, please, wan' be able to fuck you!" he begs, gripping your wrist in a hand.

"You can't fuck me if you cum now?" He nods, little sniffles leaving his lips. "How pathetic, can't even last a few minutes, what a fucking loser."

"Please, can't— ngh— just wanna get you 'round me, please, n/n..."

His voice is low, breathless and a little choked, and you finally give in. Beomgyu's chest shakes up and down while he watches you slip your dress over your head, exposing the blue lace bra you'd put on this morning. You don't even bother taking it off, nor your underwear, simply sliding your panties to the side to rub his dick against your soaked cunt.

As soon as your dripping walls suck him in, he's a goner, head rocked back into the pillows and hips twitching up to yours pitifully. Shifting your weight down against him only once, he's got tears running down his cheeks. This isn't unusual— there's a reason you always top him. As soon as the boy gets his dick wet, he's gone, off to another planet or some shit.

"Won't you open your eyes, want you to look at me while your dick's inside me, you're not that much of a whore that you can't keep your eyes open, are you?" you hiss, grabbing his chin in your hand.

Beomgyu nods with a weak look, eyes trained on your tits, and he's pulling the lace down with his fingertips. You grip his chin harder, looking down at him with a glare. "Don't you dare, take it off properly if you want it off. This was 60 dollars, I'm not letting a dumb pup like you ruin it."

His fingers fumble at your back, desperate to see you but unsure of where the hook is. A low moan leaves his lips when he finally gets it off, taking your tit in his mouth almost immediately. Swirling his tongue around it, you grab a fistful of his hair, shoving your hips towards his again.

You're lucky that he's big, big enough to hit all the right spots inside you without you having to do much, because the look on his face tells you that he's not capable of anything other than sucking on your breast. And despite all your words, you're not very capable of anything other than fucking yourself down against him.

Beomgyu's eyes are practically rolled back into his head when you look down at him again. The sight is funny, even if it causes something to twist in your stomach. The way this pretty boy can't even make the proper faces once his dick's in your cunt.

“You’re so fucking disgusting, don’t you now? Fucking me when you’re like this?” you hiss, gripping his hair in your hands.

 “’m sorry, 'm so sorry, i know, know 's gross but I can’t!”

His eyes fly open to meet yours in a panic when your fingertips pinch at the pink of his nipple. "D-don't, m-mommy, gon—gonna cum, y'know I can't take it, t' sensitive, please..."

You do know. And that alone is why you toy with him more, rubbing over the puffy bud while he squirms under you. "Don't you dare cum inside me, you hear? Don't want a dirty pup's cum inside me."

He nods frantically, eyes red and glazed with his tears, and he weakly tugs his dick from your cunt. You wrap your hand around yours to jerk him off until he reaches his peak, white cum painting your stomach in ropes.

"N-no, don't, what are you doing, c-can't!" Beomgyu lets out a choked noise when you roll your hips back towards his.

"Shut up, you can, gotta make me cum too, remember? Cause you're such a good boy, aren't you?" He nods fast, and you lower your torso to his to press a consoling kiss to his lips. They're bitten red, swollen from the constant tug of his teeth, and the familiar desperation he retaliates with makes you smile. Pulling back once more, you watch his hips twitch up to yours. "See? Told you you're a good boy, making me feel so good..."

"S' glad, let me touch, please?" He's slurring his words now, hand running through the soft brown of his hair.

"Go ahead, jus' this once, cause you're being so good..."

Beomgyu's eyes light up immediately, and his hand flies to your swollen clit without hesitation. Rubbing in circles, you have to admit, he's always been good at this. Even though he's sloppy with his movements, direct stimulation making you hiss through your teeth, he's still expert in the way he plays with your clit.

"Fuck, Gyu, gon' make me cum if you keep up with that, don't stop, will you?"

He nods, though you can tell the way your walls flutter around his dick is making his brain go fuzzy. "Can make you, 'm a good boy, gon' make you feel s' good.."

His hips grind up against yours with one particularly rough motion, and you're gone, form shaking above his.

"Doing so good, mommy, so pretty..." Beomgyu coos, spare hand resting on your cheek.

You roll onto your back next to him, chest heaving, and a wave of guilt hits you when you realize just what you've done. You fucked your stepbrother. On the day of your parents' wedding.

You sit abruptly and gather your things. "Goodnight, Gyu."

He pouts at you, dick pressed flush to his stomach, and you have to avoid looking at him. "Stay? Please?"

"No. I'm going to my room. Goodnight, Beomgyu."

And without a backwards glance, you step through the threshold of his doorway and promise you'll never be back in to answer his request.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

And you weren’t even considering it, not even thinking about it until weeks later, when your parents decided to watch a family movie before they leave on their honeymoon.

Your parents on the couch across from you, Beomgyu sits next to you on the “loveseat” in your living room. You’d never heard of such a thing as a loveseat until you moved into the Choi house– it must be a rich person thing. But the chair was just big enough for two people, sitting side by side, to have about four inches of room between them.

Not exactly the situation you want to put yourself in. 

You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it only gets worse when he tugs a blanket over the two of you and hooks one of his legs around yours.  He’s in basketball shorts, and the feeling of his skin on yours is not something you want to be feeling right now. Shooting a warning look his way before scooting as close to the armrest as you can, you try your hardest to tamp down all the memories of things you’ve done with him.

But it’s hard when he slides closer to you again, side pressed flush to yours. 

“You’re all up on me, pet, I swear to god…” you whisper. 

This was the only nickname you’d kept up with since you cut him off. Your parents were innocent enough to think that it was a cute thing– your mom had even commented on it, “You calling him pet is so cute, I’m glad the two of you are still getting along when you’re living together.”

But Beomgyu knew that it wasn’t.

His breath catches in his throat the moment the name slips from your lips, and his hand grips yours under the sheets. “I’m cold, warm me up, please?”

You relent with a sigh. A small smile twitches the corners of your lips when he nuzzles against your body, and your focus finally turns back to the movie. 

It was one of your mom’s favorites, one from the year you were born called “A Walk to Remember.” It was a sad movie– you knew the whole time the girl was going to die eventually, which made it hard to enjoy the film itself.

Good thing it was sad, though, when Beomgyu coaxes your hand down the waistband of his pants. Because he’s panting, sniffling in your ear while your fist slides up and down his dick, and his father comments on how funny it was that Beomgyu’s crying so badly at this movie.

You only laugh, looking at Beomgyu with a twinkle in your eyes. “Had no idea you were so sensitive, Gyu.” His eyes are tear-filled when he looks up at you, a little squeak leaving his lips when you thumb over his tip.

“N-not my fault, she’s gonna die, it’s sad!”

Good lord, you could praise this boys acting skills right now. Beomgyu’s trembling against you, tears slipping down his cheeks so shamelessly. Your mom tosses you a box of tissues. You catch it and take two— one for his tears, and one to wipe up the cum that’s streaking his tummy in white.

You tuck the second tissue under the blanket to clean him up while Beomgyu catches his breath. His chest is heaving, up and down, and when your palm accidentally grazes his already re-hardening dick, he sucks in a breath so sharp he starts coughing.

“I—I’m okay, I swear,” he chokes out, and you rub his back, trying your hardest not to laugh. 

“You know,” your mom says when the movie finishes, all four of you in tears. “I’m really glad we can have moments like this, as a family, even though the two of you are all grown up.”

You manage a weak smile at her. You agree with everything in that sentence— except the family part. You go to say something, but a warm hand on your thigh turns your attention once more to the brown-haired boy beside you.

“Wanna come play with me?” He asks, lips pulled into a pout. If he were asking this a month ago, you would’ve agreed, no hesitation. You know exactly what his idea of “playing” entails. 

But now, in your current situation, you shake your head. “I’ve got homework to do for my class on Monday. Maybe next time.”

You leave the room in a silent stupor, mulling over the thoughts in your head. God, you’re so stupid. How could you fall for him like that again? You promised yourself to leave him alone, and look, here you are, all self-respect gone the moment his body touched yours. 

You need to distance yourself from him again. You can’t fucking do this, any and every choice you make regarding him is going to hurt both of you, and your parents. 

So you vow to yourself that you’ll never have to be in a situation like that with him again. Because you can only assume, with your parents leaving for two weeks, that Beomgyu’s going to pull something like this again.

By then, you hope you’re able to say no.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Once your parents leave, you find ways to keep yourself busy all day long, only coming home once you know Beomgyu is asleep in bed. You can’t risk being in the vicinity of him— you don’t have enough self control for that, and you know it.

But your friends cancel plans the morning of your sixth day home alone, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Beomgyu’s in the kitchen making coffee when you wake up. He’s in a pair of grey sweats and a regular black t-shirt, but the simple pairing sets off the glow of his honey-gold skin and you have to take a moment to catch your breath,

“Good morning,” you say, opening the fridge to grab a quick snack. 

“Morning,” he hums in response, not turning to look at you.

If he had, he would’ve noticed the way your jaw fell slack, cheeks going hot purely at the sound of his voice. At least half an octave deeper than his regular speaking tone, his morning voice had your stomach twisting the way it used to when he touched you.

“Coffee?” Beomgyu asks, finally looking your way. You can see him mentally making note of your state— hair a little disheveled, long shirt hanging to your mid-thigh, tiny shorts not even peeking past the hem.

“Sure,” you manage, taking a bite of the protein bar you found in the fridge. It’s cold, and you almost break a tooth on it, but it’s better than nothing.

Beomgyu grabs your favorite mug from the cabinet, pouring in just the right ratio of cream, sugar, and coffee. You take it, fearing you’re unable to hide your surprise. He catches your eye and a small smile peeks through the otherwise stony expression on his face. “You think I’d forget how you take your coffee after three years?”

You sip your drink to hide your smile. “Of course not.”

Over the scent of your coffee, you catch another, familiar smell. Not the smell of Beomgyu— that you remember all too well. But the smell of your body wash, coming from the boy right next to you. 

“Did you use my soap?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed. You watch Beomgyu’s body language closely; he’s turning back away from you, shoulders hunched, fidgeting with the silver ring on his finger.

“N— Yeah, I did, mine was out..” He mumbles, running his hand through his hair.

“Oh.”

That’s not the truth, you can tell, but you don’t push, and Beomgyu quickly changes the subject. “I’m having someone over later, just so you know. If you’re here.”

“My friends ditched me, so I’ll be here.” You smile wryly. “Thanks for the head’s up.”

“Of course.”

The two of you stand there in awkward silence for a moment. The only noise comes from the sipping of your coffee, and the slight hum of the air conditioner pumping out cold air.

“I… I’ll be in my room.” You say. Beomgyu nods, looking down at his phone as if he couldn’t care less.

Chewing your lip while you walk back to your bedroom, you flop on your bed. Why would he lie to you about using your soap? It’s not like you’d be mad at all. It’s entirely fine, you’ve used his soap before. Of course, that was for completely different reasons… 

Wait.

That couldn’t be it at all. He’s not that perverted, is he? To use your soap to jerk off? It’d certainly explain his behavior…

You take a deep breath to clear your thoughts. No, you are not going to think about Beomgyu jerking off with your soap. But the mental image won’t leave you, and before you can even realize what you’re doing, you’re sliding your shorts off your hips and slipping your middle finger between your folds. It brushes your clit— oh, fuck, you haven’t done this in weeks, not since the wedding, and your poor, desperate clit can barely even handle the slight stimulation from your fingertip. 

Your knees knock together the second the middle finger of your non-dominant hand presses against your awaiting hole, slick already spreading through the thin material of the underwear you’re wearing. The pressure in your abdomen never ceases when you nestle your middle and ring finger entirely between your fluttering walls.

“F—fuck,” you breathe, rolling your hips towards your fingers. Images of Beomgyu are running through your mind with every circle of your finger around your clit— Beomgyu between your legs, tongue on your clit, fuck, he always loved that… Beomgyu with his dick pressed flush to his tummy, whining and pleading for you to touch him, tip leaking precum and making him all a mess…

You’re cumming in seconds at the memory of how he’d whimper under your touch, his pretty brown eyes swimming with tears. Mouth dropped open in silent pleas, you chase your high until your body aches for a break. You rest against the cold of your bedsheets to catch your breath. 

Settling down with a book, you forget almost entirely what Beomgyu’d said about bringing someone over, until it was almost 4 in the afternoon.

Downstairs, the front door opens. Voices from the living room travel perfectly up to your awaiting ears, and you find yourself pressing your lips together in frustration. Beomgyu didn’t mention that the person he was bringing over was a girl.

“Is anyone home?” You can hear her ask, a sickeningly sweet smile lacing her question.

“Just my stepsister.”

And just like that, you’re reduced to nothing but a single word. His stepsister. Like you weren’t his sole reason for existence for the past three years. Who did he go to when he was spiraling at night, who did he call up at four in the morning because he knew she’d always answer? That was you. Not whoever this other girl was.

“Oh, good. She won’t mind, will she?”

“Of course not. Especially if you can stay quiet.”

You can practically hear the wink in his voice, and it makes your skin crawl. Is he gonna have sex with her? He wouldn’t dare, not with you in the house.

Right?

“We’ll have to see how good you are, then..~”

“Trust me, baby, I’ll show you a good time.”

You shove your earbuds in your ear and blast the most hype music you can, 2010s dance-pop type beats, trying your hardest to drown out anything else that comes from their lips. You can still hear the door to the room across from you slam shut—can still hear the girls forced pornographic moans. Where the hell did he even find this girl?

After an hour and a half, you’re convinced she must be gone, and you pad down carpeted stairs to make yourself a sandwich. Just in case, music is still playing as loud as possible through your earbuds.

As you slice your sandwich in half, ready to go back to the safety of your room, Beomgyu’s door opens a crack and a lithe figure slips from it. You have to assume it’s the girl you heard before— she’s about your height, wearing a crop top, short shorts, and she’s got mascara running down her cheeks. Damn. He must’ve managed to do her good, then. How come he never pulled that out with you?

She catches sight of you. “Oh, you must be the stepsister?”

You nod, and she smiles, running a hand through her hair. “I hope we weren’t too loud. I’d hate to disturb you.”

“No, no.” You’re quick to assure her that everything is alright. “I’ve had music playing the whole time.”

“Okay, good. Well, I’ll be off now. It’s nice meeting you!”

“Nice meeting you too!” You call after her retreating form. With a huff, you settle down on your mattress once more, taking a bite of your sandwich.

There’s a knock at your door. “Yes?”

Beomgyu pokes his head in. “Wanna play?”

Your mouth falls open at his pure audacity to come in here and ask you that after fucking another girl. “No, I do not.”

“Why not?” There he goes with that fucking pout again, the one he knows gets you to snap.

“Why not? Because you just fucked someone else, and I don’t feel like fucking someone’s sloppy seconds. Plus, I’d probably get an STD of some sort from you.”

“Please?”

He’s sitting at the edge of your bed by now, and you reach to grab his chin. “I said no, pet.”

“See, you’re saying no, but you’re acting all fem-dom and calling me pet, which makes me think that you really do want to fuck me.” Beomgyu gives you a singular shit-eating grin, and you slap him in the face. Hard.

“You’re such a whore, Beomgyu, god! Why the hell do you think I’d want to fuck you?? You already got your dick wet once today, is that not enough for you?”

He rubs his cheek with a shocked, wide-eyed expression. Your gaze drops to his crotch— there’s a very obvious tent there, and you raise your eyebrows in disgust. “You’re getting turned on by this?! You’re fucking disgusting!” You exclaim. “Get out!”

“Fine, whatever,” he mumbles under his breath, slinking out of your door and back into his bedroom.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Over the course of the next week, you don’t see Beomgyu out of his room once. You can hear him, though. Good lord, can you hear him. This house makes you finally realize what “thin walls” actually means— and every night, you can hear perfectly how he’s whining, whimpering as he gets himself off, gasps of your name the only semi-intelligible sounds that leave his lips.

The past two days, he’s even resorted to leaving his door open all day long. Best be sure you’ve seen him changing one too many times, and you’ve made sure to be quiet playing with yourself after.

Scrolling on your phone mindlessly, three texts come through simultaneously. Two from you and your friends’ group chat, and one from Beomgyu. The latter is an image, which is already suspicious in itself, but, against your better judgment, you find yourself opening it. A small noise of surprise leaves your parted lips when you do.

The image is blurry, but you can make out the subject easily— Beomgyu, laying back in bed, face-fucked, drool leaking down his chin, all while he holds his dick in one limp hand.

You you’re such a pervert

Gyu <3

don’t yiu lije ir?

You

are you seriously jerking off right now?

Gyu <3

Sent a video

You

it was a simple yes or no question you didn’t have to send a video to answer

Gyu <3

aswers yws mpmmy

cime plsy pls?

You

if you can’t even type out a simple message how am I supposed to believe you’ll fuck me good?

Gyu <3

plsplspls neesd yoi sp bsd :()((

You

fine. just this once.

You both knew you were lying.

You peek through the crack in his door, and lord, he’s a sight to behold. Pretty throat on full display with his head rocked back, he’s sliding his hand up and down his dick, small whimpers leaving his lips.

“Knock knock,” you whisper, breathless.

Beomgyu’s glossy eyes light up when he sees you in the doorway. “Come in, please mommy?”

“Does my pretty boy need help?” You coo, easily slipping into your old dynamic. It’s familiar, comfortable, so much so that you can almost entirely ignore the guilt pooling in your stomach. 

“Please, hurts so bad,” he whimpers, and when you finally take a moment to look at him fully, you believe it.

His dick looks painfully hard, tip red and leaking precum all over the soft skin of his tummy. “I bet… awh, pup, why didn’t you call me in sooner?”

Lips pulled in a pout, he says, “You got s’ mad last time, didn’t want you to say no.”

“Wouldn’t, not when you’re like this…” You wrap a gentle hand around his dick, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re extra sensitive today, aren’t you, pretty?” 

He nods quickly. “Been like this all day, ‘m so sorry…”

You settle between his legs with a smile. Nosing along the inside of his thigh, you look up at him, eyes narrowed. “Did you use my soap again?”

Beomgyu’s cheeks flush an endearing shade of pink. “Tha’s what got me like this in the first place, only wanted to jerk off smelling like you, but then I couldn’t forget how you feel ‘gainst me, so pretty and soft…” His eyes shut when you slowly run your hand up the length of him.

“Don’t worry, mommy’s got you now, gon’ take such good care of you..~”

His sheets are soft, cool to the touch, and soon there’s a wet spot on them from the way your saliva slides down his dick. You hollow your cheeks around him as you welcome the familiar taste— this isn’t anything you haven’t done before together. Your nose rests against his pelvis and Beomgyu squirms under your touch. His knuckles are white from gripping the blanket. It’s almost cute, the way he’s such a mess already, tongue lolled out of his mouth like a dog. 

His hips twitch up to your mouth and you gag on him once, pressing them back down to the mattress. “Don’t move, pretty, let me make you feel good.”

Beomgyu nods again, almost frantically, looking down at you with a wide-eyed look that makes you throb. “F-feels s’ good, mommy, not gonna be able to last, I-I’m sorry…”

You only hum around the girth of him, reaching up to pull at his nipple, rolling the bud between your fingers, and you feel him twitch in your mouth. “Wait, mommy, w-wanna, fuck, wanna cum on your tits, please?”

“I’ve got a better idea…” Shifting so your face is almost parallel to his chest, you hike your shirt up and press your tits together around the base of his dick. A single choked sound falls from his lips and he fucks up towards your tits with a desperation he’s never fucked your cunt with in all your years together. You lick over his tip every time it peeks through your tits, and soon, he’s got tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Mommy, so close, please let me, wan’ cum, please please please!” His hand flies to your hair, gripping it so hard your scalp twinges.

“Go ahead, pup, you deserve it…”

The pretty boy underneath you lets out a pathetic whine, and rope after rope of warm cum paints your tits in white. Beomgyu pants underneath your touch— you stroke his cheek consolingly, pressing kisses up the line of his neck. You can feel his heart beat running faster and faster when you lick up his Adam’s apple, sucking a purpling hickey onto it.

“You alright, pet?” You hum, and he only nods again.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, Gyu?”

“Can I try topping you?”

His tone is sincere and you could curse yourself for the noise of surprise that slips past the restraint of your lips. Beomgyu looks away, tears filling his waterline again. “Nevermind, ’s stupid, just thought I’d ask, been thinking about it…”

“No, no, Gyu, of course you can, I was just surprised.. We’ve never, you know? Not once in all the years… But yes, go ahead, fuck, at least try.” You rush to reassure him, and his eyes go wide.

“Fuck, are you being serious?” He runs a hand through his hair, sitting up, and you sit back on your heels.

“Yes, I’m being serious if you are.”

“Okay, fuck, alright, I didn’t expect you to say yes…” He seems unsure of what to do with himself, and you slide up the bed until your head is against the headboard, then tug him onto you by his wrist.

“C’mon, pretty, don’t tell me you’re gonna chicken out?” You smile, and his eyes fill with an emotion you’ve never seen before in him.

Beomgyu kisses you so hard that it catches you off guard, and you smile when his tongue meets yours. He’s doing well so far, actually.

He pushes your thighs apart, yanking your shorts and panties down and off, slotting himself between your legs to rub three fingers against your clit. An embarrassing mewl of a noise leaves you the moment he makes contact with your swollen bud. You can’t pretend you don’t notice the cocky smirk that stretches itself over his features. “Pretty girl’s already whining for me, what happened, mommy?”

Two long, slender fingers slip to rest between your gummy walls, and Beomgyu’s eyes blow out wide. “Fuck, you’re soaked, you’re not usually like this, are you?”

You shake your head, unable to speak when he curls his fingers in towards your stomach at a pace so fast it sends goosebumps up and down your body. “N-no, you know that, don’t know why it’s different…”

He bites his lip in a smile, fingers jackhammering into you. His free hand pushes your thighs back apart when your knees jolt together. “Don’t tell me you’re into this, are you, baby?”

“Fuck, shut up, Gyu, will you please fuck me?”

“Not with that attitude, baby, not gonna fuck ungrateful brats.”

That makes you shut your mouth. Beomgyu grins down at you again, and the look on his face makes you want to smack him. But you stay quiet, until his other hand finds your clit and you’re cumming around him with a squeak. Beomgyu pulls his fingers out of you with a smug smile, licking them clean, then kisses you again, hiking your shirt up and over your cum-stained tits. 

“Clothes off, darling,” he coos in your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth.

You slip the shirt off the rest of the way, and Beomgyu narrows his eyes, tongue between his teeth as he looks you up and down. “Fuck, you’re so pretty…”

“Gyu…” you whisper, and his gaze rests on yours. “Please?”

“You’re asking so nicely… might as well, think I can cum inside this time?”

“If you can actually top me without turning into a mess the second you get your dick inside, you can do whatever the fuck you want.” 

And you mean it. It’s not like you haven’t thought about him as a dom— the thought’s ran through your head almost every day since the first time you fucked him. It just hadn’t occurred to you that it was possible for him. He’s consistently a, for lack of a better word, pathetic sub, whining and panting the moment you touch him. Even if he’d decided to be extra bratty, he’d still lose it all the minute your skin is on his.

So this new change is definitely not unwelcome.

“Sounds good, mommy.”

Tip pressed to your dripping cunt, he rocks his hips forward til he’s all the way inside you. You sigh in relief, fitted perfectly. Beomgyu’s always fits inside you like a missing puzzle piece, like he was made to stay here, between your legs.

“Feel so good ‘round me, baby, always taking me so good… I’ve fucked this pretty pussy into being shaped just for me, haven’t I?” He rests his forehead against yours, pressing a light kiss to your lips before pulling back to rut his pelvis towards your thighs.

Every drag of his cock along your walls sends ecstasy rolling up your limbs. Fuck, thank god he’s good with his hips. The fact that he’s managing more than the measly twitches of his hips you’re used to is impressive in itself, but he’s even better than that, and the pure pleasure settling in your lower stomach is enough to have fresh tears sliding off your cheeks and onto his pillowcase.

“Gyu, fuck, need more, f— oh fuck— faster, please?” You mumble, left hand clutching his forearm, while your right hand wound itself through the silky strands of his hair. Your thumb brushes over the slight stubble of his cheek, and he smiles at you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

He pushes his hair back and out of his face, and the simple sight of his forehead on display has your stomach twisting deliciously. Pace turning from quarter notes to eighth notes, your body jolts in reaction, and you swallow thickly. He looks so good above you— pretty chocolate brown hair swept out of his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, your gaze drops to the smooth bare of his torso. He wasn’t “buff” by any means, but your eyes settle on lines of muscle under his skin that definitely weren’t there a month and a half ago.

“Pet, have you been working out?” Your words are embarrassingly choked. Beomgyu gives you another shit-eating grin.

“I have, do you like it?” Despite the mocking tone in his voice, there’s an underlying note of something else, like he’s waiting for you to say yes.

So you do, because it’s the answer, and the look of pure joy on his face makes it all worth it. “Like it s’ much, Gyu, look so pretty…”

“Not as pretty as you, mommy, look at you, all a mess underneath me an’ I swear you’ve never looked better..~”

Your walls fluttering around the girth of him betrays your straight face, and Beomgyu presses a kiss to your parted lips. “Like when I tell you that, mommy? Like when Gyu says you look so perfect under him, all fucked out on his dick, hm?”

You nod frantically, and he nods back at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Mean every word of it, pretty girl looks like a fucking angel with my dick inside her…”

You tighten desperately around him with a whine, gripping at the hands he’s got on your waist to pull you closer to him. “Gyu, fuck, gonna c-cum, t’ good, please, wanna..!”

“Go ‘head, baby, cum all over my cock, love the way you feel ‘round me..~”

You can feel him quivering above you when you clamp down on him, orgasm hitting you like a fucking truck, and Beomgyu kisses away the tears on your cheeks. “There we go, there’s my good girl… C-can I cum too, please?”

“Go ahead, Gyu, you’ve done so good, made mommy feel so good, oh fuck!” 

He’s fucking into you with a new desperation to reach his high, completely disregarding the fact that you’ve only just came, and the overstimulation makes your grip tighten on his arm. “Gyu, calm down, fuck, hurts, can’t— can’t take it, Gyu!”

Beomgyu shakes his head, panting in your ear, body trembling against yours. “Can take it, you’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Gotta get me off now, ’s my turn.”

Fuck, how the tables have turned. A complete 180 from the night of the wedding, and he’s coaxing you to take him despite the way your body begs for a break. The sound of his hips meeting yours over and over again is prominent over the short moans that every one of his movements pulls from your lips.

“Oh, oh fuck, fuck, taking me so good, thank you, thank you, fuck!” Voice breathless, he pins your hips to his, milking himself inside you.

Oh shit. It’s not like you’ve never had the boy cum inside you— it’s happened once or twice, on accident, and you best believe you both freaked the fuck out afterwards— but this time, it’s different. He’s holding your body to his, both of you shaking, and the way you can feel his warm cum in your womb is making you weak.

Beomgyu stays like that for a moment, arms around you, yours around him, dick nestled between your walls. He’s so fucking warm against you, pants painting your skin. The intimacy of it all is almost enough to have you running out of the room immediately, but something in the tone of his voice convinces you to stay. 

When he finally pulls out, his cum drips from your cunt and onto his sheets, but you can tell Beomgyu couldn’t care less. His eyes are transfixed on the white of his cum on your thighs, the way it seems like his seed could be leaking from you forever.

Finally, he gets up to find a washcloth to clean you up, and does so with such tenderness that your heart twinges.

“Gyu, we have to talk…” you mumble against his hair.

Laying in his bed, the both of you are dressed only in the bare minimum, Beomgyu’s face resting on your chest, and every once in a while you can feel him sucking a purpling mark onto the flesh of your breasts.

He shakes his head in response to your suggestion. “No, we don’t.”

“We do, we can’t keep doing thi—“

His finger on your lips cuts you off. “Shush, you’re ruining pillow talk. This is not how it’s supposed to be.”

“Listen to me, Beomgyu! I can’t do this, fucking you isn’t gonna do anything but hurt everyone around us. Don’t you understand?”

He’s got the same pout on his face and you know you won’t be able to argue with whatever he’s going to say, that look gets you every fucking time. 

Before he can answer, however, the front door bangs open and two voices, one male, one female, call out, “We’re home! Where are the two of you?”

You’re cursing your parents for ruining your important talk, but Beomgyu’s thanking them as the two of you frantically pull your clothes on. 

Conversation postponed. ;)

[cafterdark]

Posted 16:35, 12/5 to r/puppyplay

How do I get used to nerve integrating tail

So my gf a few weeks ago admitted she was into puppy play. Now I'm a pretty vanilla guy so I was a bit wary, but open to try it. We've gotten a collar and leash that I wear when we play, but I just got my Christmas bonus, so we splurged on a nerve integrating tail. It feels pretty weird to have it on, but my gf is ecstatic. It certainly has brightened up our bedroom life lately. I'm still not entirely into puppy play, especially when she calls me a "good boy" but I do admit it's quite fun. My only question is how do I get used to it.

Posted 22:51, 12/17 to r/puppyplay

Is it dangerous to wear NIT for more than two weeks?

Hello again,

Thanks for all the advice y'all gave me in the last post, I'm really used to the tail now. I love the wave it wags when I'm excited and so does my gf. It has come to the point I feel like I'm missing something when I take it off. I know the general advice is not to keep it on for more than two weeks but I kind of want to keep it on. I work from home so none of my coworkers know I'm wearing it. And when I do need to go out, it's really easy to hide it under some clothes. So is there any risk to having it on for more than two weeks?

Posted 08:11, 1/7 to r/puppyplay

Skin grown over NIT port

So I just woke up and looked at my NIT and saw that skin has grown over the port. Whenever I try to take the tail off it hurts like hell. What can I do?

Posted 09:12, 1/7 to r/medicaladvice

Any way to remove an overgrown nerve integrated prosthetic?

I wore a NIP longer than the recommended time and skin has grown over it, is there any way to take it off?

Posted 18:15 1/7 to r/puppyplay

Gf is okay with permanent NIT

It's been an eventful morning for me and my gf. I told her the news that I'm stuck with a NIT from now on. I expected my gf to leave me, but she's been nothing but supportive. I'm usually not one for being the little spoon, but she cradled me and comforted me. I love her so much. Thank y'all for your kind words and support. I know it's fairly common for people to have eccentric prosthetics nowadays, but as much as I love this tail, it's going to take a while to get used to it. I'll keep y'all updated.

Posted 13:43, 2/9 to r/puppyplay

Side effects of permanent NIT?

Hey again,

So I've gotten used to the NIT being permanent, but I've been having some things happen to me that I'm wondering if they're caused by it.

To start, when I was done with a workout, my gf noticed I was panting with my tongue out. I hadn't even realized I was doing that.

Another one is that my body and facial hair have stopped growing. Not that I miss them, but it's kind of weird. Weirder still, my hair has been growing rapidly. I was starting to bald before, but now it's down to my shoulders. It's gotten so long and full that my coworkers joked that it looked more like a woman's hair.

Are these side effects of the tail or am I just losing my mind?

Posted 12:21, 3/15 to r/puppyplay

More side effects of tail?

Hi

So I know y'all said that permanent tails don't have any mental or physical side effects, but I'm not so sure.

I'm not sure when it started, but I'm starting to make more dog like noises. When I'm excited I bark up a storm, whimper when sad, growl when angry. I'm not doing any of those on purpose, it's like the rise from my throat. When I see a squirrel, I feel the urge to chase after it now. My gf has joked that she needs to collar and leash me when we go out, but I'm a bit nervous.

Speaking of my gf, I used to tower over her. Yet today, she was my height, maybe even a bit taller.

Other strange things, my nipples is a bit swollen and puffy. It really hurts to touch them.

What's happening to me?

Posted 10:23, 3/30 to r/puppyplay

Tits?

So I've been in denial for a while, but my tail is making me grow tits. I realized this when I was putting on a tight shirt and my boobs were really clearly visible. My gf nearly died when she saw them. After a bit of laughing/leering, she measured and found they're A cups. She gave me one of her bras to wear, which feels a bit itchy.

Posted 17:12, 3/31 to r/puppyplay

My tail is feminizing me

Hello again,

After looking at old photos of myself compared to me now. I'm certain my tail is feminizing me. I'm shorter than my gf, my skin is soft, I basically have no body hair, my hair is super long, I have tits, and um, my equipment is tiny now. I look better at least, but idk what to do.

Posted 15:35, 4/10 to r/asktransgender

Why does my GF calling me a "good girl" make me so excited.

So I'm a cis? guy. Due to a faulty prosthetic I'm wearing, it has slowly been feminizing me. Now, I'm having some mixed feelings about it and my gf asked if I liked being a guy. I really hadn't cared about my gender before so I said yeah. She then asked me how I felt about the phrase "good boy." When I told her it made me feel weird and awkward, she called me a good girl. I suddenly got so happy and my prosthetic went wild. My inside felt so warm and complete that I couldn't even try to hide how happy I was. What does this mean? Am I trans?

Posted 11:13, 4/19 to r/asktransgender

New Name!

After a week of introspection with my gf, I've realized I'm a trans woman. And to thank her for all the help she's done making me realize that, I let her pick my name.

So hi, I'm Bella

Posted 22:12, 4/21 to r/puppyplay

Gf acting weird

So me and my gf do a lot of puppy play and usually it stays in the bedroom. But lately it's been weird.

To start, she insists on cooking for me. It's such good food, but what's weird is that whenever I eat it, she clicks something. Weirder still, its the same click that I hear whenever I cum.

Also, she's gotten a lot more dominant lately. She's constantly telling me how cute and hot I am. How much she just wants to mark me up. She insists I wear my collar 24/7 so "Everyone knows who owns me." She even asks me to call her owner sometimes.

I get so flustered and my tail goes wild any time she acts like this but it's still weird. She never used to be this direct and dominant. I'm not against it but it's kind of weird.

Posted 16:37, 4/30 to r/asktransgender

Why do clothes feel weird?

So me and my gf have been clothes shopping for a new wardrobe lately and we've run into a brick wall. Every bit of clothes I've worn lately has felt tight and itchy. Even my old boy clothes.

Why is this?

Posted 18:15, 5/7 to r/puppyplay

Why can't I disobey my owner?

Um, so my owner has made some really big changes to my life lately. She's told me I'm not allowed to wear clothes anymore, sleep on the bed, eat on the table. She's gotten me a dog bed to sleep on and some labeled dog bowls for me to eat out of. I have to wear my collar 24/7 and whenever we go out I need to be leashed. I can't even walk on two legs anymore.

Yet I don't want to disobey her. It's not like she's abusive or anything, the opposite really. But my brain can't even think of not listening to her. Especially when I hear a click and every bit of my brain is filled with devotion to her.

What am I doing wrong, why can't I disobey her?

Posted 11:17, 6/5 to r/puppyplay

Y'all were right

Y'all were right. It's so much better being a good puppy for my owner. I don't have to worry about anything. She's so kind and sweet and wonderful and caring and ugh my tail is wagging so fast just talking about her. I'm so glad I've accepted my place. Thank you all so much for helping me realize this.

Posted 14:25, 12/5 to r/puppyplay

Gifts for a really good Puppygirl?

Hello

I'm the owner of a wonderful little puppygirl. She's had a big year of changes and I want to get her something wonderful to cap it off. Any suggestions?

[stormbornwitch]

When I was a child, I was often left in the care of my Nanna. It is from her that I learnt many of the pieces of what she would call "little magic".

At her side, I learned how to sew and make little finger puppets and 'dollies'. We walked through the park, and she pointed out the plants and trees and their properties. With her, I made my first lavender filled bag to help me sleep. She would spoil me with peanut butter and butter sandwiches (which my mother was staunchly against), and then showed me how to feed the house spirit (a bowl filled with crusts of bread and milk poured over the top with a bit of honey drizzled over it).

She also told me stories - so many fairytales and folktales that would horrify parents if told to their children nowadays. But it was only when I was older and in school that I realised the stories she told me were different from the ones my friends had been told... mine were darker and full of old truths and lessons I still remember to this day.

-

One of my favourite tales was of a little girl with honey blond hair and blue eyes whose name started with a V (I can't for the life of me remember her name). Her father was a merchant, and her mother was kind. Their little family of three were quite happy until the little girl's mother got sick. The merchant hired healers and priests to help his wife, but all failed to help the little girl's mother, her sickness worsening with each passing day. Soon, it was clear that her mother was dying, and the little girl's father refused to leave his wife's bedside, leaving the little girl to fetch water from the well, light the fires, cook meals for her family and care for the home.

One day, her mother called the little girl to her bedside and asked her husband to step outside of the room for a moment. The little girl approached her mother's bedside with trepedation. Reaching under the bed, the mother pulled out a strange little cloth doll with no face. The doll was made from a scrap of her mother's favourite dress, with her mother's hair ribbons binding it into the shape of a doll.

"Here, my child. She will protect you when I am gone. All you must do is feed the doll a drop of your blood and tell it your problem, and it will be fixed."

The little girl did not understand but took the doll from her mother. "But how will I feed her a drop of my blood if she has no mouth?"

The little girl's mother smiled, and for a moment, she didn't look sick anymore.

"Promise me, my beautiful daughter, that you will keep her with you, for she will act in my stead once I am gone."

The little girl did not understand her mother's words but promised again to keep the doll with her at all times.

The mother suddenly surged forward and tightly clasped her daughter’s hands in her own. "No one can know you have her, not even your father. Let no one see her. Keep her hidden on your person at all times unless you have need of her."

The little girl, now afraid at her mother's vehement pleas, nodded frantically to show she acquiesced and would do as she was bid.

Her mother, seeing the little girl's compliance, collapsed back into her bed and dismissed the little girl, bidding she tell her father he could return.

Her mother died that night; her father distraught at the loss of his beloved wife.

Though it was not long after the little girl's mother was buried, that her father remarried once more.

The little girl's new mother was a widow with no children of her own, and the little girl's father told her "She will make a good mother for you, my child" But she was not a good mother.

For you see, any time the little girl's father was home, the woman would treat the little girl kindly, but as soon as her father was gone, her stepmother would turn cruel and demand the little girl do all of the housework and chores. If little girl refused, her stepmother threatened to beat her, and told the little girl she would go to bed without supper if the work was not done. Since her father was away, and there was nothing the little girl could do, she did as she was bid; completing the work until her hands were cracked and bleeding with sores. However, despite the little girl's efforts, her stepmother was still unsatisfied with the little girl's work, locking her outside the house overnight.

Cold and exhausted, the little girl crept into the storeroom and laid down on the floor.

It was then that the little girl remembered her promise and the little doll she had kept secret in a pocket inside her dress. Carefully, pulling out the strange little doll, the little girl remembered her mother's words.

"Though you have no face, I will feed you a drop of my blood." And so the little girl dabbed one of her bleeding fingers against where the dolls mouth would be if it had one. "Please help me, little doll, for my stepmother is a cruel woman, and I can not possibly do all that she has bid of me."

It was then the little girl heard a voice inside her head, "Sleep, my child, and I will complete all that has been asked of you."

With a small smile of relief, the little girl went to sleep, and when she awoke, it was to find all of the chores her stepmother had requested, completed.

Surely, with all of the work done, her stepmother would let the little girl inside. So she tucked the doll back into the inner pocket of her dress and left the storeroom. But upon seeing the jobs miraculously done overnight, the stepmother's face turned ugly.

"I suppose since you've done all that was asked, you can come inside to break your fast."

The little girl meekly entered the home and ate the cold porridge she was given without comment. But as soon as she was done eating, her stepmother gave her another list of jobs to do, even more than the day before.

And so the little girl worked all day until her feet were sore and her hands were cracked and bleeding. But her stepmother remained unsatisfied, as all of the chores were not completed. Resigned, the little girl crept back into the storeroom for the night.

With bloodied hands, the little girl pulled out the doll from her hiding place and dabbed a drop of her blood where the doll's mouth would be.

"Please, little doll, I need your help once more. I can not do all that is asked of me, and my hands are blistered and sore."

Again, the little girl heard the doll's voice inside her head, "Sleep little one and all will be well, I will show you where the healing herbs dwell."

With a smile, the little girl went to sleep on the storeroom floor, and when she awoke, she found that once again, all of the jobs her stepmother had told her to complete were done.

Again, when the little girl went up to the house and knocked on the door, her stepmother seemed furious the jobs were done. With gritted teeth, she bid, "I suppose since you've done all that was asked, you can come inside to break your fast."

And so the little girl ate the cold porridge placed afore her as her stepmother once more listed more outlandish jobs for the young girl to complete.

And so the years went by, the little girl growing into a beautiful and capable young woman. Her hands and body were strong from all of the work she would complete each day, and thanks to her mother's blessing, she knew and harvested all manner of healing herbs and edible plants from the nearby forest.

But every time her father was home from his business trips, he would always comment "You are becoming so beautiful my darling daughter, just like your mother" These comments would make her stepmother scowl and her face turn ugly with rage. So, as each year passed, V became more beautiful, and her stepmother became more hideous in her hatred.

In her hatred, V's stepmother began sending her into the forest for ridiculous errands. V knew that her stepmother probably intended for her to get eaten by wolves, or worse, by the witch that supposedly lived in the wood. But thanks to her mother's blessing and a sharp thorn kept in the pocket of her dress, V was always able to fetch whatever her stepmother requested from the wood and return home safely.

One night, V's stepmother came to the storeroom door where V was sleeping on the floor. "Get up at once. Your lazyness has allowed the hearth to go out, and not even coals remain to light a fire. You must go to the witch of the wood and ask her for a coal"

"But stepmother," V cried out in vain. "The witch if the wood eats people! Surely she will not give me a coal!"

V's stepmother sneared down her long nose at her. "Go afore it is too dark to see the way."

And so V set off into the forest until not even the light of the moon could guide her steps. It was then that the quiet whispers of her mother's doll began to give directions through the dark wood.

Soon, V emerged into a strange clearing. In its centre, a wooden hut sat on top of tall wooden posts that looked almost like chickens feet. At the base of the hut was a small garden with all manner of plants growing. And surrounding the garden was a fence that seemed to be made of bones. Thankfully, as V approached the hut, she could see a warm light coming from within. This must be the home of the witch of the wood.

Following the fence of bone, V reached the garden gate. On either side of the gate were skulls set atop large bones. Small candles inside the skulls seemed to light as if by magic as soon as V touched the gate.

"Why are you here, child?" A voice called out from the hut. There in the doorway stood an old woman, her back bent from many years of hard work and her long grey hair gleaming in the moonlight.

V plucked up her courage and called out, "My stepmother sent me to find the witch of the wood to ask for a coal."

At her response, the old woman barked out a laugh that sounded more like the cawing of a crow than a human laugh. "And what will I get in return? I will not give you a coal for free."

Again, V plucked up her courage and responded, "I will work for it. I promise I'm a hard worker, you can see from my hands." At this V raised her hands for the old woman to inspect.

Seeing the calloses from many years of hard work, the old woman nodded. "Very well, you will work for me for a day and a night, and you will receive a coal from my hearth that will never go out."

With that, the old woman turned around and began to walk up to the hut. As she walked, she began to list the chores she wanted V to perform. "You will clean the house and yard, wash the laundry, and cook us two meals; breakfast and supper. You will go into the storeroom and separate rotten grains from sound grains and gather and store seeds from the garden."

After years of dealing with her stepmother's ever expanding list of demands, this old woman's jobs seemed almost easy by comparison.

"First, let's see your skills as a cook. Go to the garden and fetch us something for supper"

And so into the witch's garden, V went, gathering edible and medicinal plants until she had enough to make a hearty soup, which would helpfully ease some of the old woman's pain.

The old woman nodded at V's selection and led her up the ladder into the hut. On one side of the hut was a large stone hearth, and at its heart, five large coals gleamed as they cradled the base of a large iron pot.

"Take the pot to the stream and fill it halfway with water. Then return to make your soup." The old woman bid.

It took all of V's strength to lift the large iron pot from the hearth and carry it carefully down the ladder so as not to scorch the wood. Down the garden path, V carried the pot past the bone gate and back into the forest. Thankfully, her mother's blessing whispered directions, and V was able to quickly locate the nearby stream and fill the pot halfway.

Returning to the hut, V began chopping herbs and vegetables and throwing them in the pot. Soon the hearty supper was bubbling away in the pot and ready to be served.

The old woman passed V two wooden bowls and a large wooden ladle.

"You want two bowls of soup?" V asked the old woman.

"No, the other is for you, child." The old woman barked before hitting V with the large spoon. Doing quickly as she was bid, V ladled out two portions of the soup; one for her and one for the old witch.

With the soup placed in front of her, the old woman quickly ate her supper seemingly ravenous. V ate her portion much slower, not used to having supper anymore, though she was happy to refill the old woman's bowl with more soup when she was bid to.

With supper eaten, V gathered their bowls, spoons, and knife into the now empty iron pot and carried it down the ladder, through the garden gate and down to the stream to wash.

Upon her return, she found a pallet bed had been made up.

"That is for you," the old woman muttered as she walked over to her own bed tucked into the wall of the hut.

"But how will I get all of the jobs done if I sleep here?" V asked.

The old woman turned back to her with a strange smile on her face. "I'm sure a hard-working young woman such as yourself can find a way."

With that, the old woman climbed into bed, leaving V to climb into the pallet bed. When she heard the snores of the old woman, V pulled out her mother's doll from the secret pocket of her dress. "Please, little doll, I need your help once more. I can not do all that is asked of me, and my hands are blistered and sore."

Again, the little girl heard the doll's voice inside her head, "Sleep little one, the jobs will be done upon the rising of the sun."

With a smile on her face, V fell asleep, assured that her mother's blessing would help her once more.

When she awoke, V saw that the old woman was already awake and was staring into the hearth as she sipped on a strong smelling tea. "I see you were quite busy while you slept." The old woman said with a crooked smile and a gesture to the iron pot full of hot porrige.

"Are there other jobs you need me to complete?"

"You will eat this porridge and carry one of these coals to your stepmother's house. Then you will return here."

Once more, V did as she was bid.

Upon finishing her porridge, the old woman gave V a fox skull. Using large iron tongs, the old woman reached into the hearth and removed one of the hold glowing coals and placed it in the jaws of the fox.

"Take this to your stepmother's house to light her hearth and then return here."

And so V carried the skull, down the ladder, through the garden, out the gate and through the forest until she reached the edge where her father's house stood.

V knocked on the door, and her stepmother quickly opened the door, a look of shock and horror gracing her features.

No sooner had her stepmother opened the door, and then the coal had begun to glow brighter and brighter. Within moments, her stepmother's dress and the doorframe of the house began to smoke, and soon, both were burning merrily until naught but ashes remained.

Once more, V did as she was bid.

She returned to the witch in the wood and learned all that she could.

-

As a kid, I loved this version of the Baba Yaga tale, and now as an adult I love how these stories were the avenues for or my Nanna to pass on examples of small magic and witchcraft.

This is also probably why I've never had an issue with blood based magic when so many other witches do have an issue with it.

[imjustreadinglmao]

BLUE

Paring: Azriel x Reader, Lucien x platonic!Reader

Summary: After Azriel and Elain‘s courtship is revealed, their mates, Lucien and Y/N, are left to deal with the consequences. While fighting against Koschei and for Prythian‘s freedom, Y/N has to navigate her emotions and learn how to live with the heartbreak of a one sided mating bond. But what happens when long kept secrets are revealed and everything turns out differently than they thought?

PART I

word count: 3k

A/N: this is part 1 of BLUE. I changed the beginning a bit to fit the storyline. Please be nice this is my first fic :)

Warnings: light angst, unrequited love, mention of childhood trauma/ mention of ãbuse (not described)

part 2

I stir my black tea as Rhysand files through the report I handed him just seconds ago.

The steam from the tea rises, curling in delicate tendrils, carrying with it a sense of fleeting warmth that I desperately cling to.

Rhysand’s office is both grand and simple.

Bookshelves line the walls, filled with volumes on history, strategy, and magic. A fireplace to the right. Above it, a large portrait of Velaris shows the city bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. Feyre gifted it to him last starfall.

Heavy velvet drapes in shades of midnight blue frame the windows, ready to be drawn shut for privacy.

In the distance I can make out the mountains with their snow-capped peaks and the Sidra winding through the valley below.

“I have to say, I’m impressed you were able to convince Devlon so fast.”

I look up at Rhys and chuckle, the sound hollow to my own ears. “It does help if you threaten to cut his balls off and stake them to the wall for everyone to see.”

Rhys lifts a brow and barks out a laugh. “I see.”

I rarely go on missions anymore, choosing to work as an advisor for Rhysand.

Missions used to be exciting, but nowadays I prefer the comfort my room provides. The sense of security it brings is a balm to my soul, now more than ever.

I take this as a sign to stand up and lift my bag from the floor. I sling it over my shoulder and make my way to the door.

“Don’t forget tonight’s family dinner,” Rhysand calls after me. I don’t look back, just give him a thumbs-up and close his office door behind me.

As I make my way downstairs and through the foyer, I spot Lucien strapping on his sword. Presumably getting ready for training, he has always been an early riser.

“How did the mission go?” Lucien doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s me approaching.

I let out a sigh and rub my temples. “Good.” I stop beside him and flop onto the recamier right next to the front door. “Well, as good as paying the camps a visit can get.”

Lucien cracks a smile at that, his amber eyes twinkle with amusement. He knows exactly how difficult it is to convince Devlon of something he isn’t particularly fond of.

“Are you coming to the family dinner tonight?” I ask, my voice betraying a hint of reluctance.

Lucien sheaths his blade and nods. “Feyre will have my head if I don’t show up. I already missed the last one.”

I cringe at the mention of the last family dinner. The memory alone sends a sharp pang through my chest.

———————

I walk into the dining room, ready to face yet another family dinner. I spot Mor right away, radiant in her blood-red gown. The sight of her is always one of familiarity and comfort.

“Hey, got another one of those?” I point to the wine glass in her hand. She arches a brow and hands me one filled to the brim.

“Are we so exhausting that you need liquid encouragement to get through the night?” she muses. I just roll my eyes, trying to hide my amusement.

Right as she opens her mouth to say something, the back of my head begins to tickle. He is here.

I turn around to see Azriel walk through the door, and he is not alone. Elain is beside him, their hands intertwined.

Even though I was expecting it to happen soon, the sight still hits me like a physical blow. It was always just a matter of time till Azriel and Elain decided to go against Rhys‘s order and make their love official.

I‘m glad, Lucien isn’t here to witness this. I can’t imagine how it would be for him.

Since only my side of the bond snapped into place, seeing how in love they are, is somehow… manageable. For Lucien it would be almost deadly.

I look back at Mor, her expression as shocked as mine. “I didn’t know,” she whispers, her face now bearing a look of worry and pity.

To say the dinner is awkward would be an understatement. Nobody really knows what to say after Elain and Azriel walked in holding hands.

I just shove the potatoes on my plate around, too nauseous to eat anything. The lump in my throat makes swallowing impossible.

Cassian clears his throat and points to Azriel and Elain. “So how long has this been going on?” Nesta jabs her elbow into his ribs, which earns her an “oww”, and throws me an apologetic look.

Besides Mor, only Lucien and Nesta know about the bond between me and Azriel. Their concern a constant reminder of the bond I try so hard to ignore.

“Well…” Azriel coughs, noticeably uncomfortable with being put on the spot. “It all happened very quickly. We spent a lot of our nights up and talking and realized we didn’t want to hold back anymore.”

He gazes down at her, smiling. I recognize that look. The realization twists the knife in my heart.

That’s how I look at him.

—————————

“Are you even listening?” Lucien waves a hand in front of my face to snap me out of my haze. His voice pulls me back to the present, but the ache remains.

I rub my eyes. “Uh… sorry. What exactly were you saying?”

He crosses his arms and looks down at me. “I was asking if you wanted to go training with me. But it seems what you really need is some sleep.”

I roll my eyes and stand up. “You know me so well, Lu.” I pat his shoulder and walk out the door. “See you at dinner tonight.”

Velaris is most beautiful at night, but nothing can beat the quiet and peace of the early mornings.

I walk down the high street, greeting some of my favorite vendors with a smile, until I reach the familiar townhouse.

After I officially became part of Rhysand’s inner circle, he offered me to stay at his townhouse.

It had many perks: no rent, right in the heart of Velaris, and an endless wine supply thanks to Rhysand’s "secret" wine cellar.

There is really only one downside.

“I didn’t think you would be back so soon.” Azriel sits at the dinner table eating breakfast. He has his fighting leathers on, probably on his way to the House of Wind for Valkyrie training.

Cassian and Azriel still train the Valkyries every morning. Sometimes I join, but only when Nesta drags me up there.

“Well, sorry to disappoint.” I laugh awkwardly. “I’m going to head upstairs to rest. Say hello to Nesta for me.” The words taste bitter, a poor attempt to mask the hurt.

I turn around before he has the chance to say something else, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me.

Yes, that is the downside. The constant reminder of what I had lost and could never have.

Him.

——————

The dining room buzzes with conversation as everyone settles in for dinner.

Azriel and Elain sit together, a vision of contentment that sends a pang through my heart.

Across the table, Lucien’s jaw is tight, his gaze fixed on his plate.

“Thank you all for coming,” Rhysand begins, standing at the head of the table. “I have an important announcement to make.”

He glances at Lucien and me, a hint of apology in his eyes. “We’ve decided to support Eris in overthrowing Beron.

Lucien and you,” he points at me, “will lead the mission to the Autumn Court.”

A murmur runs through the room. Lucien looks up, his eyes meet mine.

There is a mixture of determination and vulnerability in his gaze that makes my heart ache.

The Autumn Court doesn’t hold great memories for either of us.

But before I can fully process Rhysand’s words, Azriel stands abruptly, his expression dark and tense.

“Why them?” Azriel’s voice is sharp, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. “Why not send someone else?”

Rhysand frowns slightly, clearly not expecting this reaction.

“Both of them have a unique advantage given their history with Eris and the Autumn Court. It’s a strategic decision.”

Azriel’s eyes flicker to me, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous.”

I feel a surge of frustration. Azriel’s protectiveness, though touching, is misplaced and completely out of character.

“What’s your problem, Azriel?” I snap, unable to hold back.

“I’m more than capable of leading this mission. Or do you think I’m not good enough to do my job?”

His eyes narrow, the tension between us thickening. “That’s not what I meant,” he retorts, his voice lower but no less intense.

“I just don’t think it’s wise to send specifically you two into such a volatile situation. You can’t just throw yourself into danger like that.”

My heart pounds in my chest. “That’s rich coming from you. You’re always in danger, always risking everything. How is that different from this mission?”

“It’s different because—” Azriel stops himself, glancing at Elain, who is watching us with wide eyes. He seems to struggle for a moment before finishing, “It doesn’t matter, just let someone else do the mission. You’re an important asset to this court.”

Before I could respond with something I’d surely regret, Elain’s voice cuts through the tension.

“Azriel, stop.” Her voice is calm but firm, a hint of desperation in her eyes. “This isn’t helping.”

Azriel turned to Elain, his expression softens slightly, but the tension remains. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “I’m sorry. I just… I worry.”

Lucien’s gaze hardens, “We’ve faced worse,” he says, a challenge in his tone. “We are capable enough to lead this mission, we don’t need your approval, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “It’s not about capability. It’s about safety. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

“Anyone?” I echo, my voice rises. “Or just Elain’s mate?”

The words hang in the air, charged with emotion. Azriel flinches slightly.

“This has nothing to do with Lucien being Elain‘s mate,” he says, though the slight tremor in his voice betrays him.

“But it does, doesn’t it?” My words laced with venom. “If Lucien were to get hurt, it would cause Elain distress, that’s how a mating bond works. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Elain looks down, her face unreadable, while Lucien’s gaze flickers between Azriel and me.

“We all know the risks,” Lucien says more calmly this time, “And we’re prepared to face them.”

Rhysand interjects, his voice low but authoritative. “Enough. We’re all on the same side here. This is a mission we need to undertake for the greater good. Personal feelings need to be set aside.”

I take a deep breath and try to steady the storm of emotions within me. Rhysand is right, the last thing we need is Azriel and me fighting.

Rhysand sits down, his tone final. “This mission is vital. We need to trust each other and stay focused. We’ll discuss this further tomorrow. For now, let’s try to enjoy the evening.”

The atmosphere is strained as we resume our meal. I can feel Azriel’s gaze on me.

Lucien reaches over, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it meant everything in that moment.

I don’t say a word throughout the whole dinner. Choosing to stay quiet instead of lashing out.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission would change everything.

---

The garden of the River House is a haven of tranquility. Blooming flowers and lush greenery everywhere Elain truly is a talented gardener.

I find Lucien leaning against a stone pillar, his gaze lost in the Sidra's gentle flow.

I approach him quietly, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. “Mind if I join you?” I ask softly.

Lucien looks up, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Of course not. I was just enjoying the peace before the storm.”

I halt beside him, the tension from the dinner still coils tightly in my chest. “Quite the announcement, wasn’t it?”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I knew something like this was coming, but hearing it confirmed… it’s different.

Eris must be desperate if he reached out to Rhysand.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Yes, it’s a lot. I wish Rhys would have told us separately. This topic is already very emotional I really didn’t need Azriel’s… concern too.”

Lucien’s eyes darken at the mention of Azriel. “He’s protective, that’s clear. But he doesn’t have the right to undermine your abilities.”

“It’s not just that,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “His words, his actions… they confuse me. One moment he’s distant, the next he’s overly concerned. I don’t understand him.”

Lucien’s gaze softens, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “He cares about you. He might not be aware of it but you’re his mate, bond snapping into place or not, it’s his priority to keep you safe. That can’t be changed, even if he’s in love with someone else.”

I look away, the garden blurring before my eyes. “It hurts, Lucien. Seeing him with Elain, pretending to be something they’re not. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Lucien reaches out, his hand covering mine. “You’re not alone in this. We’ve all got our battles to fight, and sometimes the hardest ones are with our own hearts.”

A moment of silence stretches between us, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.

“And what about you?” I ask, turning to look at him. “How are you handling all of this? Eris, the Autumn Court… it can’t be easy for you.”

Lucien’s expression grows somber. “It’s not. But I’ve come to terms with my past and everything my father did to me. I knew this was going to happen. Eris has the chance to change things, to make the Autumn Court a better place. I can’t turn my back on that.”

He smiles at that. “And maybe, when all of this is over, we’ll find some semblance of peace.”

As we stand there, the garden enveloping us in its quiet embrace, I feel a sense of calm settle over me. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I know we have each other’s backs.

—————————

The war room in the House of Wind is filled with dread as we gather around the large oak table.

Rhysand stands at the head, his usual easy demeanor replaced by a grave seriousness.

To his right, Amren sits with her usual enigmatic expression, while Cassian leans against the wall, arms crossed and a stern look on his face.

Azriel is on my left, his gaze unreadable, and Lucien sits across from me, his eyes focused and determined.

Rhysand unfurls a detailed map of the Autumn Court, its forests and strongholds marked with meticulous detail.

“Eris has provided us with information about Beron’s movements and the layout of his court. Our objective is to infiltrate the main stronghold, gather intelligence, and support Eris in his efforts to dethrone Beron.”

Lucien nods, his jaw set. Rhys continues. “We’ll enter through the southern border. Eris has arranged for a distraction that will draw most of Beron’s guards away from the main stronghold. This will give us the opportunity to slip in and meet with Eris.”

Amren leans forward, her sharp eyes assessing the map. “And what about Koschei? He’s been a wild card in all of this. His alliance with Beron could complicate things.”

Rhysand nods in agreement. “Koschei is a concern. According to Eris, Koschei has been providing Beron with dark magic. We need to be prepared for any magical traps or barriers.”

Azriel’s voice cuts through the discussion. “I’ll handle the reconnaissance. I’ll fly ahead and ensure the path is clear before they move in.”

I glance at him, he hasn’t looked at me or said a single thing to me since yesterday. If I didn’t know better I would say he was sulking.

Rhysand continues, “Once inside, our main goal is to secure the throne room and neutralize Beron’s guards. Eris will confront Beron directly. You,” he gestures to Lucien and me, “need to be ready to support him.”

Lucien nods again, his eyes meeting mine across the table. “We’ll be ready.”

Rhysand’s gaze softens slightly as he looked at us. “This mission is dangerous, but it’s necessary. Any questions?”

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the responsibility settle on my shoulders. “What if things go wrong? Do we have an extraction plan?”

Amren smirks. “We have a plan. Azriel and I will be your backup. If things go south, we’ll get you out, girl.”

Azriel nods, his eyes meeting mine. “You won’t be alone out there. We’ll be watching.”

There is a moment of silence as everyone absorbs the gravity of this mission.

Finally, Rhysand speaks again, his voice resolute. “We leave at dawn. Get some rest and prepare yourselves.”

As we all stand to leave, Azriel catches my arm. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod, following him to a quieter corner of the room. “What is it, Azriel?”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I know you’re capable. But this mission… it’s dangerous, and I can’t shake the feeling that something might go wrong. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

His concern should touch me, but I can’t help and feel angry. “I know the risks, Azriel. And I’ll be careful. But you need to trust me to do my part.”

He sighs, running a scarred hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or your abilities. I just… I can’t lose you.”

Before I can respond, Lucien approaches.“Ready?” Lucien asks, his eyes flicker between Azriel and me. I nod, giving Azriel one last look.

“Ready.”

[celuere]

Random SFW Arlecchino x wife!reader hcs that have been floating in my head for the past weeks now

cw: fluff. There is so. much. fluff.

I‘m so serious when I tell you that this woman changed my brain chemistry.

She lets the kids braid her hair when she feels like it, for example whenever she is doing things like reading reports, doing paperwork etc.

Will ALWAYS. And I mean ALWAYS find an excuse to pop into your office/laboratory during work

„I wanted to hand you over some reports, dear“

„…Arle, we have subordinates for that.“

„…Cant a husband do her wife a favor nowadays?“

You just have to throw her a look for her to know whatever is going on in your head. You want to go out to dinner tonight? Just make eye contact with her for longer than three seconds and she is already making a reservation at your favorite restaurant.

Now if you happen to go out for dinner, she‘ll make sure to buy you a brand new dress/suit (whatever you prefer) along with some quite expensive jewelry, which of course she wants to wear at said restaurant

An absolute GONER for you. And I mean that with all my heart. She thinks you’re beautiful no matter what and lets you know it on any given occasion. You‘re changing in front of her? Gods above, she CANNOT keep her eyes off of your beautiful body, even if she wanted to. You got a new haircut? You don’t even have to tell her and she already showers you in compliments. You tried out a new clothing style? She‘d marry you all over again, even if you wore a trashbag instead of your wedding dress.

Speaking of wedding, i dont think arle would be the type of person for a big ceremony at all. It was just you. her. the pastor. and of course some of the more older children present when you vowed to each other to stay by the others side until death does you part.

She always wakes up at exactly 5:30am, something that got drilled into her from „Mother“. I think she is the type of person to completely skip breakfast, only sipping on a cup of her favorite tea while reading through whatever reports were due for today. Leaving the house at exactly 6:00am, but not before kissing you awake and placing a cup of your own favorite drink on your nightstand (she is actually your personal alarm clock)

The first time you tried to sneak some more seasoning into her food besides salt and pepper she straight up gagged. Gagged. Save to say, that you never messed with her meals ever again.

You‘re quite literally the only person who gets to pull off ANY shit with her and be alive the next morning. Burst into her office during important negotiations? Oh, what a great opportunity to mention in front of everyone that you‘re her wife. Kicking her leg underneath the table at a Fatui Meeting because you want her attention? You won’t get as much as a glare from her.

Also arguing with her would be so???? Rare??? And even then, I would hardly call it argue since Arle pretty much never looses her cool, the worst you might be getting is a sharp, cold comment from her but yet she can’t stay mad at you for longer than a few hours. But again, discussions with her would always be collected and objective imo

Do NOT take a walk through the city with her ass unless you want her to buy you literally everything you‘re eyeing for longer than 5 seconds. It‘s impossible for her to just keep her purse inside her jacket if she notices you looking that one necklace up and down for more than two times.

Literally cannot get sick is immune to most poisons because the Balemoon Bloodfire in her veins casually kills everything off that doesn’t belong into her blood circulation

Has a deathgrip on you in her sleep, it’s not even intentional but there is NO way of getting out of her embrace without waking her up

Is on the other hand a rather light sleeper, which is actually essential to her at times, you never know who might wanna take revenge on her etc., also R.I.P. to any teenager trying to sneak out past bedtime. You‘re getting caught. But waking up anytime you have to make a run for the toilet or get a glass of water in the middle of the night is rather hard on her.

Hates physical touch until it’s from you, especially when you’ve known each other since childhood. It actually calms her raging mind, so receiving a hug and a kiss from you after a long and dreadful day is the equivalent of asking her to marry you again.

Now dare I speak about Papa!Arlecchino. Your shared daughter taking a liking into insects, just like her dad so the two of them end up taking long walks through whatever forest is the nearest. Arlecchino educating her little girl on every animal they come across and OWNENNSKRLALENWN I AM SO NOT OKAY I LOVE HER SM.

I‘m gonna make a whole series out of Papa!Arlecchino JUST WATCH ME. anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk, I could talk about her and my oc 24/7😭

[suiana]

could i ask for a yan!childhood friend. but the childhood friend is the friend of our daughter and we’re her parent. (we think he likes her but he likes us. 18+ obviously) the darling is like a milf or whatever. pretty please with a cherry on top :)

SHUT UPP i love this idea, childhood friend redemption arc?!!?! maybe he wont be my most hated yan anymore!?

(yandere! childhood friend x gn! parent reader)

"my dear, you need to calm down. you don't like me, it's just the hormones-"

"please! pleasepleaseplease just give me one chance! i know you and your spouse aren't together anymore so just give me a chance. i may be younger but i promise i'll treat you so good that you won't regret choosing me!"

the male whines, his hands clasped together in front of his face as he begs you to accept his confession.

obviously you weren't going to accept. why would you? you practically watched him grow up alongisde your daughter! and yes, you knew he's had a little bit of an obsession since he was young but you always thought it was just a kid thing. you never encouraged it, always politely told him that he'd grow up, find someone else his age he'd truly love, maybe someone like your daughter.

what you never expected was for him to continue his obsession well into his early adulthood. especially when it's on you, a 40 something year old that was the parent of his best friend.

you knew you were attractive. you've had lots of people tell you that since forever, and the compliments only rose after you became a parent. you've even heard some kids nowadays call you a... parent they'd like to fuck? was it? you always found it weird. but either way, you never entertained any of their words, especially confessions as you had not wanted any of them to get the wrong idea.

most of them moved on. unfortunately not this boy.

"you're literally the only one for me! i don't care if you're almost 50! it's only like... 20 something years! i'm legal already!"

he continues to beg, hands caging you against a nearby wall. you merely let out a sigh, shaking your head as the male continues to ramble on about how much he adores you.

"my dear, i will not get with you no matter what."

you merely reply to his heartfelt words with a simple sentece, patting his shoulder before you try to push him away. though, you could only freeze in place as you feel the air around you drop in temperature, the aura around the young man changing in an instant.

"if you don't go out with me i'll kill myself in front of you and change the trajectory of your life forever."

"what?!"

ah, younglings and their passion for older people. how fun! not for you though.

[woso-dreamzzz]

IKEA

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Sam Kerr x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You go to IKEA

It was Guro's fault.

Everyone could agree on that, though Guro insisted it was actually Millie's fault for bringing up the idea of a trip to IKEA in the first place.

Everyone else disagreed because Guro was the one that was meant to be holding your hand before you disappeared.

Either way, you were gone and they were fucked.

"I mean," Erin says as they wander through the winding halls of IKEA," She's Swedish so this place must be a second home. She's probably not lost."

"She's practically a baby," Millie replies bluntly, dipping into one of the showrooms to check you're not hiding there," I think we should be more worried about someone kidnapping her."

"You don't think she's been kidnapped, right?" Guro asks, gnawing on her bottom lip as she glances around," I mean, no one actually kidnaps kids, nowadays? Right? I thought we've moved past that."

"No one's kidnapped her!" Sam insists," She's somewhere around this place. We'll grab her and not let Magda and Pernille know she even got lost."

The others nod in agreement before Millie makes the choice to split everyone up. They'd cover more ground by themselves and hopefully find you a bit quicker.

IKEA is already a maze for normal people. She doesn't want to think about how confusing it must be for such a little kid.

Although, you don't think you're lost at all. It's not your fault that Guro got distracted by something and told you that you were free to wander for a little bit. You didn't mean to go so far and out of sight but this shop is exciting.

It got even more exciting when you hit the toy section. There's lots of toys for you to choose from so you're not quite sure which one you would like.

All of them would be a good choice but Momma only gave you a little bit of money to spend and you're just learning your numbers but you know that it's not enough to buy everything.

That's a little sad but Morsa's always told you that you can't have everything so this must be one of those times.

You keep staring at them though, eyes wide as you try to decide which one you want to take home with you.

You can hear movement behind you, footsteps pounding on the shiny floor. You don't turn around though.

This shop is busy so it must be someone trying to find something. You don't want to get in their way so you press a bit closer towards the toys.

Sam doesn't want to let you remain lost any longer and she certainly doesn't want to call Magda and Pernille to let them know.

Her feet pound against the linoleum as she tries to find you.

Erin's stayed behind to check where they've lost you while Sam, Millie and Guro have moved forward to check in the other areas you could have wandered to, peeling off from each other to cover more ground.

Sam's hoping she can sprint to the exit before you can get there with your little legs. Even if she can't, she's sure none of the staff will ignore a little girl wandering around by herself so hopefully, one of them can nab you and announce your disappearance through the tannoy system.

Sam's sprinting so fast that she almost misses you.

Almost.

Before she got to take you out for the day, Magda and Pernille made her memorise what you're wearing, just in case you wandered off a bit like now. She'd been made to stand on their doorstep with her eyes closed as she recited exactly what you wearing, straight down to your sock colour and pattern.

It comes in handy now as, out of the corner of her eye, Sam catches sight of the exact same colour of your shirt and leggings.

She skids to a stop, turning around to look properly.

You're right there, head tilted up to study the big bear toy in the crate in front of you.

"Hey!"

You recognise the sound of Sam's voice behind you and turn to look at her.

"Sam!" You say," I have enough?"

You hold out your fistful of money out to her to inspect.

"W-What?!"

"I have enough money for the bear?" You elaborate, pointing at the toy you want and shaking your hand to draw her attention back from your face to your money.

"You scared us!" Sam says instead," Why did you leave?"

You frown. "I didn't leave. Guro said I could walk by myself for a bit."

Sam's just about to tear her hair out at your clear misinterpretation of Guro's words. "Okay, well-"

"Sam!" Guro comes sprinting up behind her. "Pernille's calling! What do I do?!"

You tilt your head to the side in confusion. "Why are you scared of Momma calling?"

"Oh my god! We found you!"

"I found her," Sam replies, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't hide!" You say stubbornly, stamping your foot on the ground," Making a new friend!" You point at the big bear you want to buy.

"That's nice," Guro says before her phone is pressed against your ear," Talk to Pernille."

"Hi Momma!" You chirp," I'm buying a bear!"

"Hi, princesse," Pernille coos in your ear, finally feeling settled and calm now that Guro finally picked up her fifth call," Are you having fun?"

You nod before realising this is a phone call and Momma can't see you so you speak again," Yes! Sam was running to find-"

Sam's hand covers your mouth and she hurries to speak. "To find a new lamp! Helen broke my last one."

At home, Pernille frowns, waving over Magda and putting the phone on speaker.

"You were running to find a new lamp?"

Sam chuckles awkwardly. "Er...yeah...I'm really into lamps. Did I not tell you?"

It's clear this is the first time Magda's hearing of it too, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Sam?" She asks.

Sam squeaks hearing Magda's voice and her own goes very high pitched as she replies. "Yes, Magda?"

"What kind of lamp do you recommend?" Magda asks," I've been thinking of getting a new one."

"Er...One that fits next to your bed?"

"Uh-huh. What about decoration? Just plain or pattern?"

"Er...I think...Erm...You can get patterned lamps?"

Magda rolls her eyes. "Put my daughter on the phone, Sam." There's a rustle. "Princesse, can you tell me what Sam was searching for?"

"She thought I was hiding!" You giggle and Magda can hear squabbling in the background. "Which is silly because I wasn't! I think she thought I was lost!"

You keep giggling and Pernille takes a very deep breath.

"Princesse," She says," Please put Sam and Guro back on the phone, please. Morsa and I need to talk to them."

"Okay, Momma!"

"Sam, Guro," Magda says through clenched teeth," You get Erin and Millie and you get back to this house within the hour."

"Do-Do we have to?"

"Yes!"

[mydemimonde]

'Honey, Are You Coming?' (Baby Said, Part 2) — Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

divider is from @plutism

a/n: hello! i'm soooo so sorry for taking too long in doing the second part of baby said, college and work are driving me insane and i barely have time to write. i really hope you like this

Summary: After that mindblowing night after the bar, you find yourself waiting for Aemond's call, growing slightly disappointed.

Words: 4691

Warnings: +18 (minors dni), female reader, no use y/n nor specific physical description, swearing, dirty talk, hand kink, praising, tiddy sucking, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slightly dominant aemond, riding, no proof reading! english is not my first language, i apologise in advance if there are any mistakes.

It’s been five days and you haven’t heard anything from Aemond. Not a call, not even a text message. Nothing. You started to feel a little bit anxious and somewhat offended. Perhaps he didn’t like you that much, or worse, he had a girlfriend and still had sex with you. You shake your head, trying to get rid of those thoughts, focusing on the task at hand.

A year before your graduation, you got a job in a small publishing house, working as an editor. You didn’t earn a fortune, but it was more than enough to make ends meet and pay rent. Still, you were trying to find a job in a bigger place, freelancing didn’t appeal to you and you were actually looking for a new flat, closer to the capital, which meant higher prices.

“For fuck’s sake,” you hear Arianne curse next to you, making you startle. With a frown, you lift your head to look at her. “You have been eyeing your phone for the last fifteen minutes, it’s quite annoying,” she says, half serious, half joking. The brunette tilts her head and places a hand on her hip. “He hasn’t called you yet, has he?”

You shake your head, pursing your lips. “I don’t know why it affects me so much… it was just a one night stand” you explain, running a hand through your hair and sighing.

“Perhaps he’s busy…” your friend tries to reason with you, seeing how defeated you looked. She gets on her knees and grabs your hands. “Hey, I don’t want you to feel like rubbish, you shouldn’t feel like this, even if he was a mindblowing fuck.” She says, quoting the words you said when you told her about that night, giving her all the nasty details over a cup of wine during dinner. “Have you checked his socials?” She asks, to which you nod.

“Yep. Private account on Instagram, no Twitter. Didn’t even bother to check Facebook, no one uses it nowadays” you move your hand in the air. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t ask a following request.”

“What’s stopping you?” She asks with a frown and clicks her tongue in annoyance when you shrug. “I swear to God…” she mutters under her breath before plopping down on her chair, opening an incognito tab in her browser, as if what she was doing was illegal.

You frown and move your chair next to hers. “What are you doing?” You watch as she types his name on the search bar. You read the first few results with narrowed eyes. They scan the many search results populating the screen, but they focus on one particular title. Meet the Targaryens: The Powerhouse Family Behind ‘Valyrian Press’

Oh God. “Click that one…” you point at the title and Arianne immediately clicks. The webpage loads quickly and a big picture pops up on the screen. Your eyes fall to Aemond’s figure in the family picture. He was looking into the camera, a serious expression on his face, his hands into the pockets of his black suit. He wore all black.

Arianne turns to look at you. “You didn’t tell me this snack was the son of Viserys Targaryen…”

“I didn’t know!” You whisper-shout, shrugging. “I had no idea he was the son of Viserys Targaryen, though the surname did ring a bell.” Just when she opens her mouth to speak, you interrupt her, lifting your index finger in the air. “Hey, it wasn’t a date, it was a fuck, okay? We didn’t just sit down to talk about our families” you explain, defending yourself. She lifts her hands in surrender.

“Didn’t say anything at all.” Your friend turns again and skims the article. “Well, my dear friend, you had sex with a single billionaire, son of the owner of one of the most important publishing houses in the country. If you don’t send that Instagram request, I will do it.” Just when she finishes saying that, your phone vibrates. Your head jerks and you extend your hand to grab it, your eyes widening when you see the notification. Arianne frowns. “Is it him?”

You nod, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Arianne gasps and chuckles as you open the text message.

Hi. I apologise for not writing sooner. May I call you?

You fight the urge of jumping up and down and screaming of happiness, and instead you take a deep breath to calm down the butterflies in your stomach and type an answer, your hands shaking in excitement.

Hi there :) Sure, you can call me.

Just a minute after you sent that message, your phone vibrates once more, and you take the call, eager to listen to his voice. “Hi?”

“Hello, gorgeous.” Gorgeous. You hear him hiss. “I’m so, so sorry for not calling you back. I have been quite busy these days, travelling and accompanying my father to so many meetings…” you can picture him moving his hands around, explaining things to you. “I meant to call you right after that night, but work got in the way. I hope you accept my apologies…”

You smile against the phone. “Don’t worry, Aemond. It’s okay, I suspected you were busy,” you reply, biting your lower lip to try to stop a laugh, seeing Arianne making faces at your words and mouthing ‘I told you’.

“Anyways, I’m in the city right now… are you at work?” He asks after a soft sigh and you find yourself twirling a strand of your hair like a high school girl. How pathetic, you think.

“Yes, but I finish my shift at 5pm. We can grab a coffee or a sandwich, if you want…” you suggest.

“Of course, darling. Give me your address, I can pick you up and we can go to Honeyholt Bakery, they sell delicious lemon cakes.” You beam, lemon cakes were your favourites, but you never told him that. You give him your job’s address before saying goodbye and hanging up.

You plop down on your chair, a dreamy look in your face as you look at the ceiling. You feel Arianne’s gaze on you, and you look down at her. She slowly shakes her head, a smirk making its way on her face. “I sooo envy you, lucky bitch” she jokes, making you giggle.

Knowing that you were hours away from meeting Aemond was all the motivation you needed to get down to work quickly, going over the document you had to edit before sending it to the executive editor. You finish a bit earlier than expected and grab your jacket and purse, kiss Arianne’s head and head towards the exit to wait for Aemond. You leave him a message letting him know you were ready, and not even a minute later you receive his reply. On my way ;)

Less than ten minutes later, you see a black BMW with tinted windows steering around the corner, slowing down and parking right in front of the doors of the building. The driver’s windows roll down and you see Aemond, with his hair combed back and wearing sunglasses. Fuck me.

He smiles at you and you smile back. “Hello, darling.” His voice is smooth and it makes you swallow hard. He steps out of the car, not before shifting the gear level into park mode and pulling the lever so that the car stays right in place.

“Hi, Aemond” you reply, your eyes sweeping over his lean figure clad in some brown polished shoes, black trousers, black shirt and black leather jacket. A lot of black. He looks delicious. He leans in to kiss your cheek, his expensive cologne filling your nostrils.

He places a hand on your lower back and indicates you to get into his car, opening the door for you, which you thank. He closes the door and walks around his vehicle to get inside, and you take a moment to look around, noticing how clean it smells. There’s music playing, the electric guitars and drums echoing in the small space. When Aemond gets inside and closes the door, he turns the volume of the radio down, but the music is still audible. You can recognize the song very clearly.

Meet me there where it never closes

Meet me there, I'll give you your roses

All is fair in love, oh-oh-oh

Honey, are you coming?

He takes his glasses off and begins driving the car at a normal speed as he talks. “How have you been, gorgeous?”

“I’ve been great… I have a lot more work now, but it’s so fulfilling,” you reply, your gaze falling to his hand on the steering wheel. He looks so confident as he drives, and you suddenly feel your cheeks getting hot, so you move your gaze to the window, watching the shops as you pass by.

Aemond smirks and glances at you. “I’m happy for you. The most important thing is enjoying and loving what you do” you hum at his answer, showing your agreement. “You work at a publishing house, right?”

“Yeah, I work as an editor, have been doing it for a year now” he raises his brows and nods.

“So I take it that you’re comfortable in that place…” his eyes are fixed on the road, concentrated on driving.

You purse your lips to the side, humming. “I’m actually looking for other publishing houses. I’m thinking about moving closer to the capital, and the rent is obviously higher in those areas, so I need a better wage.”

Aemond nods, taking in your words. “Well, my father has a publishing house. Valyrian Press, you might have heard of it.” Your eyes widen in surprise —fake, of course,— at his words. “There are some vacancies, and the pay is really good.”

“Your dad owns Valyrian Press?” He hums. “Oh, that’s why your surname rang a bell…” What a big fat lie.

Aemond huffs a laugh. “You’re telling me that you didn’t google my name?” How the fuck does he know things?

“Not me, my friend did.” He chuckles. “It never crossed my mind to google anything… but perhaps I did look up your social media…” you trail off.

Aemond chuckles again, the sound making your heart flutter. “Well, I barely use social media, I have an Instagram account but I’m not very fond of those apps…” You look at him and shake your head, letting out a soft chuckle. He parks the car outside the café. “What do y’wanna eat, darling?”

You. “Uhm, a cappuccino and some lemon cakes would be fine.”

He winks at you and smirks. “Excellent choice. I’ll be back soon” and with that, he exits the car. You watch him as he walks towards the bakery, biting your lip at the sight. You rest your head against the back of the seat, sighing and thinking about that man you barely know. You don’t know why, but you feel so drawn to him and you want to kick yourself because you’ve never felt like this for anyone. Not even your ex, for God’s sake.

You see Aemond getting out of the shop with two cups in one hand and a small white box with a yellow bow on top on the other hand. You stretch to get the door open, making it easier for him to get into the car.

“Thank you, beautiful” he offers you a smile and you sit comfortably in your position. He hands you the coffees and sets the box in the middle of your seats before closing the door and starting the car. “Where would you like to go?” He asks you, grabbing his cup and taking a sip from it.

“Wherever you want, Aemond… is there any specific place you wanna go?” You ask as you look at him, your eyes momentarily drifting to his hand on the steering wheel, the other one wrapped around the cup. Fuck, how is it that his hands were enough to make you go wild, the mere though of having them roaming over your body, pushing your legs apart, grabbing your hips, squeezing your tits, choking you… and his fingers, God, his long fingers.

“Hey!” He calls you, startling you. His glances at you once again, smirking when he sees you blinking and wide-eyed. “I asked you a question…”

You blink a few times more, frowning. “Uhm, sorry… what?” Your voice comes out meekly as you try to gather your thoughts. He stops at the red light.

“I asked you if you wanted me to take you to your apartment…” when you don’t answer, he huffs a laugh. “Cat got your tongue, hm?” He murmurs in a husky voice. He places his cup on the cup holder and extends his arm, his left hand coming up to your face to cup your cheek. “You like my hands, don’t you?” Aemond looks at you, giving you a smug smile when you mutter something inaudible. “You think I didn’t notice how you were staring at my hands, love?” You swallow hard as his thumb grazes your lower lip and you take the opportunity to open your mouth slightly, the tip of your tongue licking his digit before sucking it, the sensation going straight to his cock.

You hear him curse under his breath, his chest heaving. He sees the light going from red, to yellow, to green out of the corner of his eye and, reluctantly, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, fearing that if you did that again, he might lose control of the vehicle. Before he retreats his hand you take it and guide it inside your jeans, letting him feel you.

“Fuck, you’re soaked” he mutters as he feels your wet folds, his other hand gripping the wheel tightly, his knuckles going white. You keep him there, pressing his hand against your cunt to get some relief. “Holy shit, babygirl, wait…” he retreats his fingers from your cunt and you whine. “Shh, relax…” he shushes you, his fingers quickly undoing the button of your jeans and pulling down the zipper to get more space.

He hisses when he gets his hand inside your lace panties again, his middle finger trailing up your entrance, gathering some of your essence to rub your clit with his digit. “Oh, fuck” you curse, throwing your head back and closing your eyes as the pad of his finger rubs lazy circles over your bud.

“God, love, you’re really wet… thinking about my hands turns you on, huh?” He taunts you, a low growl rumbling in his throat when he feels your cunt sucking his finger in. Aemond slides his finger inside you and you mewl as he starts pumping it. He continues driving, his gaze focused on the road ahead, his mind racing. “Want another finger, baby?”

“Hmm… ngh… yes, Aemond- oh!” You squeak when he inserts his index finger. You grip the grab handle above the window, trying to hold onto something as his fingers continue his work. “Fuck, right there” you moan when his fingers curl up, hitting your sweet spot with ease.

Aemond hums, curling them again and increasing the pace of his fingers. You were thankful the windows were tinted, otherwise passers-by would see what you were doing inside that car. Aemond’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he feels your cunt tightening around his fingers, you are so close to cumming so he slows down the movements.

“N-no, Aemond, don’t stop, I’m so close…” you complain in a whine, and he groans lowly.

“Baby, I’m so fucking hard right now and if you continue making those beautiful sounds I might cum in my pants and crash this vehicle. I need you to tell me where you wanna go, I can’t focus on the road if I have you squeezing my fingers like that…” he explains, panting a little bit.

“Pull over… drive to a parking lot, I don’t know…” you plead, bucking your hips slightly. You don’t know how long you can last, not when the heel of his palm is pressing against your clit, eliciting whimpers from you.

Aemond drives towards the nearest parking lot he finds, his fingers moving inside you again at a relentless pace, making you gasp. “Fuck, baby, I can feel you getting closer, you’re squeezing my fingers so tightly…” He says through gritted teeth, smirking when you let out a high-pitched moan the moment his fingers reach that rough patch inside you, making you jolt. “C’mon, pretty girl. Cum all over my fingers, wanna feel you…” he coaxes.

He grunts when you press your legs together as you come, head thrown back and jaw open, incoherent words and moans spilling past your lips. His fingers continue working inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm. He pulls them out, and you nearly choke as you watch him, through half-lidded eyes, how he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean and moaning at the taste.

“You taste incredibly sweet, baby. You have no idea how much I need to put my cock inside you” you moan in response, head spinning at his words. He enters the parking lot and rushes to find a spot, parking the car immediately. “Come to the back” he orders, and he peeks around to check that no one sees you in the almost empty place.

Both of you get to the back of the car, almost throwing yourself at him. His lips capture yours in an intense kiss, his hand cupping your neck to pull you closer and angle your head to deepen it while the other rests on your waist. The tip of his tongue presses slightly against your lower lip and you gladly part your lips, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. You can taste the strong coffee in his mouth.

Your hands trail down his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your palms. Aemond growls into your mouth when one of your hands cup his evident bulge, palming him through the fabric. “Holy… shit…” he mutters against your lips. You take the opportunity to leave open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, his neck, all the way to his earlobe.

“Want to suck your cock, Aemond…” you purr in his ear before taking his earlobe between your teeth, nibbling softly as you lower the zipper of his jeans, slithering your hand under his boxers.

“F-fuck…” he curses through gritted teeth, closing his eyes for a moment as you pull down his jeans and boxers in one motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock straining against his stomach and you move in your place, bringing your legs up to kneel next to him, your ass propped up in direction to the window. Your index finger grates the weeping tip, making him shudder. “Don’t tease… put your mouth to work, needy girl” he instructs, his hand landing on your ass with a loud smack, making you yelp.

You swallow hard and lick your lips as you lean forward, your right hand wrapping around his base. Like a lollipop, your tongue licks his cock from the base to the tip, eliciting a hiss from him. The hand that smacked your ass comes to rest on the small of your back, hiking up your blouse and rubbing circles on your skin.

Your lips wrap around his tip, sucking it gently and swirling your tongue around it. “God… yes, like that…” he breathes out, his voice rough. You stroke his shaft with your hand in rhythm with the movements of your mouth, up and down his length. Your hair falls to the side but Aemond is quick to grab it, putting it in a ponytail as your head bobs up and down. He resists the urge to buck his hips up, trying not to hurt you.

You stop stroking him and move your hand to cup his balls, which ignites something primal in Aemond. He can’t help but thrust his hips upwards into your mouth, making you moan. “Fucking hell, you’re taking me so deep into that wet mouth… love it” he coos, biting his lip at the sight of your mouth around him and your head bobbing up and down. His cock is covered in your saliva, glistening under the dim lights of the parking lot.

You hollow your cheeks as you go up, your hands wrapping around his base again, adding a bit of pressure. That makes him growl and pant, the sounds he makes going straight to your cunt. He continues praising you in choked, needy moans, telling you how good your mouth feels on his cock, how he’s going to wreck your pussy immediately afterwards, his hand guiding your head up and down his length. You feel him twitch in your mouth, the signal that he’s close to cumming.

“Are you coming, Aemond?” You ask, your hot breath fanning against his length before taking him deep into your mouth, gagging around him.

“Y-yes… s-stop… I’m so close…” he warns, the obscene wet sucking sounds that fill the car making him let out a strangled moan. He pulls you away from his length, a trail of saliva still connecting your mouth to him. You use the palm of your hand to wipe your mouth, licking your lips and looking at him.

“Why did you want me to stop?” Your hand presses on his inner thigh, making him sigh deeply and let go of your hair.

“Because when I cum, I want to do it deep inside your cunt, alright?” He explains as he leans his back against the seat, his words making your jaw drop. “Now, get rid of those jeans and ride me.”

You eagerly do as told, putting your legs down and shimming out of your jeans and soaked panties. You toss them aside and straddle him, your bent knees on either side of his hips, your chest pressing against his given the constricted space you are in. His hands immediately land on either side of your hips, guiding you to sink down on his cock.

Both of you moan at the contact, your eyes close as he lets you adjust to his size. When you open your eyes you find his hungry gaze on you, his pupils dark with lust. He licks his lips, bringing one hand to cup your neck and pull you down to kiss him. The kiss is slow but passionate, sensual. You find support on his shoulders and you start moving your hips, finding the right rhythm.

Aemond pulls back to breath, his lips hovering over yours as you rest your forehead against his. His fingers grip your hips tightly, certainly leaving marks. “Hmm…” he hums, feeling how your cunt sucks him in, engulfing him. “D’you feel me deep inside you, baby?” He murmurs against your lips.

“Y-yes… you’re so deep, Aemond,” you reply in a shaky whisper. You feel his breath against your face due to the close proximity, hearing the low grunts and whines that leave his lips. His hands move from your hips to your abdomen, lifting your blouse to feel your skin, his touch setting your body on fire.

“No bra?” His eyes widen in surprise and he smirks. “Naughty girl, I might have to punish you…” He taunts as he pulls the straps of your blouse down, freeing your breasts. He mutters a curse and dives into your chest, his hands bringing your tits together, squeezing as his tongue swirls around your right nipple, making you arch your back against him. “You fit perfectly in my hands, baby…” he squeezes your tits once more, making you throw your head back. Aemond leans forward and leaves wet kisses on your throat, sucking the junction between your neck and shoulder as his big hands knead your tits.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you increase the speed of your movements, letting out desperate whines as the tip of his cock bullies the rough patch inside you. You’ve never been this wet before, the squelching sounds making you blush furiously in embarrassment. “Fuck, you’re so wet… can’t wait for when you soak my cock as you come” those dirty words  he mutters against your ear have you gasping loudly and furrowing your brows. Aemond rests his forehead against your shoulder, the sounds escaping his lips coming out muffled.

“Aemond… I’m… fuck, I’m so close…” you speak in a choked moan, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bounce on his dick.

You feel him smirk against your skin, his teeth nibbling your collarbone. “Yeah, I can feel that… you’re so tight, love, you feel so fucking good” he praises, his voice hoarse and deep. Aemond lifts his head from your shoulder, looking up at you, his eyes roaming over your face. “Look at me” he demands in an authoritative, stern voice. You do as told, locking your eyes with his. “Do not tear your gaze away from me, you understand?” You nod frantically, your brows knitted together in pleasure.

His hands lower to your backside, gripping your ass tightly, helping you as you move on top of him. He brings his legs together, plants his feet on the floor and starts bucking his hips up, meeting your movements. Your eyes close shut involuntarily, wanton and sinful moans spilling past your lips as he pounds into you. “I said, fucking look at me” he says through gritten teeth, and you obey, as hard as it is to do so.

His eyes roam over your face, committing every detail to memory. “Y’gonna cum all over my cock, hmm? Can feel you squeezing me.” You nod, unable to speak. His hands grip your ass tighter, his nails digging into your skin. “Come, baby… let go and soak me, c’mon,” he gives your ass a loud smack, and that does it to you. His mouth is agape as he watches you come undone above him, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and lips parted as you gasp for air. “That’s it, baby… I got you.”

You feel blood rushing through your ears, your eyes flutter close and your legs tremble. You feel Aemond’s hard grip on your ass as he keeps pounding into you, chasing his own release. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna…” his hips stutter and his arms wrap around your waist tightly as he cums deep inside your cunt, a guttural groan coming out of his lips, the sound muffled as he hides his head in your shoulder.

Both of you stay there, panting and holding each other as you come down from your intense orgasms. You feel like you’re walking on a cloud, feeling boneless. Once you finally catch your breaths, he lifts his head to place a kiss on your lips. He pulls back and huffs a laugh.

“Shit… are you okay?” He asks, placing soft kisses along your collarbone, bringing you back to earth. You struggle to find the words, but eventually open your mouth to speak.

“Yes… I feel amazing…” he chuckles at your answer, your voice coming out croaky.

“I’m glad. Did I fuck your brains out?” He smirks when you nod, and places another kiss on your lips as his hands rub soothing circles on your back. He rests his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes. You untangle your arms from around his neck and place your hands on either side of his face, admiring his features. “I was serious, you know. About the vacancies,” he explains to you. “I can ask my father to arrange a job interview. I’m dead serious, darling.”

You chuckle, the sound of your soft laugh making him smile. You tilt your head. “Hmm… I think you’re just trying to get into my pants…” you tease, to which he chuckles.

“But I already did. Twice” he replies in a low voice, making you giggle. “Oh, and one more thing.” He adds, looking at you, his playful expression turning into a soft one. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Your lips curve into a smile. “Yes. I would love to.”

taglist: @melsunshine @tsujifreya @fan-goddess

[avis-writeshq]

06 — untouchable

summary: “come on, come on, say that we’ll be together/”i’m caught up in you.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn,  warnings: rated 16+ for two mentions of nakedness, short blood mention, brief mention of dead things, mostly canon compliant (s4 e23 ‘amplification’), wc: 4.3k a/n: thank you again to the lovely @astrophileous for beta-reading <3 good luck on your thesis babes MWAH SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

38 Hours Before the Phone Call – Monday, 8:42AM, BAU Office

Spencer arrives at the office with a stupidly giddy smile on his face. His cheeks are flushed as he grips a hot takeaway cup of coffee in his hands. He taps the cup idly with his fingers, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he steps out of the elevator unable to shake the smile off his face. It’s ridiculous and insane and borderline delusional but he knows it’s far from that. After all, he has a perfectly good reason as to why he is in such high spirits and that reason is you. After years of pining and psyching himself up (only to psych himself out) he managed to actually ask you out on a date. And, he reminds himself with a silly smile, he actually kissed you. And it wasn’t one of those platonic kisses, no, this was an actual kiss to the lips and he couldn’t be happier. 

He thinks back to the previous night, visualising the way your cheeks grew warm and the way your lips felt against his. His own cheeks flush at the thoughts and he remembers committing that version of you to memory. How on earth are you so beautiful? Even while sleep deprived with dark bags under your eyes or unruly hair, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. 

“Pretty boy,” Derek comments in a teasing sing-songy voice as Spencer takes a sip of his coffee, trying to appear nonchalant. “Ooh, I know that look.”

Spencer chokes a little, wiping his mouth with a tissue in his bag. “What look?”

“Someone got lucky last night,” Derek responds with a grin. “It must be the hair. I heard that long hair gets all the ladies nowadays.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Spencer is quick to deny, walking through the big glass doors of the office. 

“Who got lucky last night?” Emily asks, poking her head out of her little stall. Her eyes flit to Spencer and she grins. “Oh… I see how it is.”

“Nothing happened last night,” Spencer says adamantly, swiping a hand over his face. “It isn’t like that. Whatever we have is good. It doesn’t need to be–” He coughs quietly as blood rushes to his ears– “to be sexual. I like her. More than physically.”

Emily coos at his confession, twisting around her desk to ruffle his hair. “You’re such a gentleman, Reid.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he says through a laugh, swatting Emily’s hands away. “Being a gentleman. Some women prefer it over the whole macho act.”

“Hey, I am plenty gentleman,” Derek says swiftly, holding a finger out. “And chicks dig the macho thing.”

*** 

14 Hours Before the Phone Call – Tuesday, 7:09AM, BAU Office

It was supposed to be a normal morning. It was supposed to be an average Tuesday with your average, run-of-the-mill serial killer with daddy issues but instead, JJ called the entire team in the early hours of the morning, saying to get to the BAU as quickly as possible. 

“Case must be local. JJ said not to bring a go-bag,” Spencer says as they enter the office. 

In moments they were met with a complete arsenal of military personnel, bustling around their desks and storming throughout the office. Others were answering and sending phone calls, demanding for processes to be sped up as Hotch speaks to a group of people in his own personal office, Rossi beside him.

“What’s the army doing here?” Derek asks, his brows furrowed.

“What the hell is going on?” Emily demands, eyeing the uniformed professionals as they splay casefiles across their desks. 

They all enter the conference room where JJ was waiting for them, along with a neatly dressed Asian woman with her hair tied up in a ponytail and out of her face. 

“Guys, this is Dr Linda Kimura, Chief of Special Pathogens at the CDC,” JJ introduces, filling up styrofoam cups with water and placing them around the round table. 

“Hello. I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances,” she says as she places pills on a shiny metal tray. 

Spencer frowns at that. “What circumstances?”

Hotch enters the room instantly, gripping a case file in his iron fist. “We need to get started.”

“Last night, twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms in and around Annapolis. They were all at the same park after 2PM yesterday. Within 10 hours, the first victim died. It’s now just past 7AM the next day, we have twelve people dead,” JJ explains as the rest of team look through the manilla files. 

“Lung failure and black lesions,” Derek murmurs thoughtfully. “Anthrax?”

Spencer flicks through the papers, scanning the tox screen. “Anthrax doesn’t kill this fast.”

“This strain does,” Kimura says, an edge of fear in her tone.

“What are we doing about potential mass targets– airports, malls, trains?” Emily asks, turning to Hotch who shakes his head. 

“There’s a media blackout.”

“We’re not telling the public?”

Derek looks over at Emily. “We’d have a mass exodus.”

“The psychology of group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack,” Rossi explains.

“Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples,” Spencer says as he sifts through the papers. 

“Or if they wanted attention and didn’t get it, they might attack again. Doesn’t the public have the right know that?” 

“If there is another attack, there’s no way we’ll be able to keep it quiet,” Hotch says urgently. “Our best chance of protecting the public is by building a profile as quickly as we can.”

Spencer wets his bottom lip nervously, his thoughts drifting to you. You work indoors all day. You’ll be fine, you have to be. “What do we know about this strain?”

“The spores are weaponized,” Kimura explains, “reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. Odourless and invisible.”

Rossi nods, almost as if he wasn’t surprised at all upon hearing the news. “A sophisticated strain. Only a scientist would know how to do that.”

“These lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours,” Derek points out, gesturing to the less than positive crime photos in their files. 

“It’s not the lesions I’m worried about,” Kimura begins, taking an ultrasound scan of a patient’s lungs and presenting it to the team. “Its the lungs. We don’t know how to com2bat the toxins once they’re inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all.”

“The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed Hospital. Our offices will become a small command centre,” JJ tells them.

“We’ll be working with military scientists from Fort Detrick,” Hotch adds on.

“General Whitworth is coming here?” Rossi asks.

Hotch nods in the affirmative. “He’s in charge of sit containment and spore analysis. Determining what strain this is will help inform who’s responsible.”

“My team is in charge of treating all victims,” Kimura goes on to tell the team, looking at each person.

“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura to the hospital, interview the victims,” Hotch says, dishing out responsibilities. “Morgan and Prentiss, there’s a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene. There’s Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

Linda hands a small plastic container, each one having two round tablets resting inside. “We don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s something.”

Emily lets out a nervous breath as she toys with the rim of the container. “This… is really happening?

“We knew this could happen. We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it,” Hotch says as reassuringly as possible before knocking his head back and taking the two Cipro tablets. 

“Cent’anni,” Rossi toasts, holding the little container out. “May you live one hundred years.”

*** 

Everyone rushes about, gathering files and resources before the head off to complete their allocated assignments. Regardless of how much is at stake in this certain situation, Spencer feels his heart spike with anxiety. It’s against protocol, sure, but shouldn’t he call you? Tell you to take a sick day and stay at home, or to just stay indoors the entire time you’re at work. Maybe if he’s lucky he could get you into witness protection. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hotch says slowly, seemingly appearing out of thin air behind him. 

Spencer freezes, his hands pausing as they rummage through his bag in search of his cell. “I’m not.”

“You’re not thinking?” Hotch asks, raising an eyebrow. “I know what you want to do.”

“I can’t just– I can’t just keep her in the dark, Hotch,” Spencer insists, continuing to feel for his cell phone. “She could get infected and–” His mouth runs dry at the idea and he swallows thickly. “If I can protect her, then why shouldn’t I?

Aaron sighs, his forehead wrinkling as his eyebrows knit together. “I know you care about her and I know you’re worried, but she isn’t on this team anymore. If we all called home and used this information to give them the advantage that other people don’t have… is that really the right thing to do?”

“Don’t give me a moral dilemma, Hotch. This isn’t a hypothetical,” Spencer counters, finally finding the little device buried at the bottom of his satchel. “When I– when the incident with Tobias Hankel happened, she never gave up on me. She went out on a limb for me. I’m returning the favour.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment before finally, “What about the guilt?”

Spencer balks. “What?”

“If she is saved because of the information you gave her… can you imagine the guilt she would feel? She’s a selfless person, Spencer, and knowing her… well, you can guess what she would do,” Aaron says, glancing back to his office where Rossi is waving him over. “I’m sure you’ll make the right decision. Kimura is waiting for you.”

Hotch is gone before Spencer could say anything. He huffs quietly, guilty after hearing Hotch’s words. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it, he has to accept that his boss is right. The best way to keep you safe is by finding this UnSub before he could hurt any more people. He rubs at his eyes in frustration, stalking out of the BAU offices. Hopefully you’ll forgive him.

*** 

“Dr. Lawrence Nichols? Yeah, I read about him. He was highly respected doctor who studied anthrax prior to the attacks in 2001,” Spencer says as he gets into the passenger seat of Derek’s SUV. He rolls up the sleeves of his dark purple shirt, brushing some sweat from his forehead. “They think that he’s behind it?”

“There was a video of him at a conference with the with the National Defense Committee. He was paranoid after the Amerithrax attacks in 2001, proposing some crazy high budget to ‘protect the people of America’,” Derek explains. “He matches the profile exactly. Prentiss and Rossi are heading to his work. Apparently he got demoted into working with influenza.”

Spencer grimaces as he stares at the overgrowing rose bushes at the front of Dr. Nichols’s house, his nose scrunching up in distaste. Do people not hire gardeners anymore? He squeezes past a few bushes to follow Derek closer to the house, hissing when his hand gets caught on one of the thorns. He shakes his hand out, a scratch already blooming on the back of his hand with small droplets ot blood already emerging. 

He continues to walk into the house as Derek’s phone rings, entering the house through a glass sliding door. The whirring of the fan above him grabs his attention and he frowns. The fan is on but the door is open… someone must have left in a hurry. He takes another step forward, jolting when he hears the sound of glass being crushed under his feet. Shit.

“Reid?” Derek yells, and Spencer jumps. 

“Morgan, get– get back!” Spencer yells, slamming the sliding door shut so hard that the glass shakes. “Get back! Get out of here!”

Derek frowns, tugging at the handle. ‘What are you doing? What’s wrong?”

“No, don’t!”

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks again, tugging once more at the handle; Spencer is a lot stronger than he expected.

“What’s wrong?”

Spencer pushes his hair out of his face in frustration as he locks the door, turning back to his friend. “I’m sorry.”

It is in that moment that Derek’s eyes turn to the ground, his eyes widening in disbelief as he sees the white powder in the room leaking from a broken test tube with a bright yellow symbol for ‘biological hazard’. 

It feels like hours before Hotch and the military arrive at the house, along with an ambulance and a hazmat team. The stench of Dr. Nichols’s dead body lingers in the air even though the air-con is blasting and the air is circulating through the room. He doesn’t even want to think about the dead animals and test subjects in the cages, his stomach churning at the mere thought. From what he could tell, the doctor was dead three days ago, meaning that he couldn’t have been the one to infect those people at the park. His head is pounding and his throat itches and all of a sudden he can’t breathe. He tells himself to relax but how can he when he very well could die in here? He knows the statistics; only 55% of those who receive aggressive treatment survive. He doesn’t like those odds. 

“Hotch, I really messed up this time,” he says hoarsely into the phone, wiping the sweat off his upper lip.

“Reid, we need to get you out and to the hospital,” Hotch says firmly, and Spencer watches as he puts the call on speaker. 

“What– no, I’m staying right here,” Spencer insists, frowning. 

Derek interrupts swiftly, “No, you’re not, Reid.”

“I’m already exposed,” Spencer says, his voice straining as he turns back into Dr. Nichols’s makeshift lab. “It’s not gonna do me any good to stop working the case.”

General Whitworth grimaces in response. “He’s already infected. Now, if Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure.”

“My best chance is to stay here, see if there’s a cure, and try to figure out who killed Dr. Nichols,” Spencer insists as he searches through the lab for what seems like the millionth time. 

Test tubes, files, and text books litter the lab, a flurry of papers splayed across the floor. The sight of them remind him of the first time he met you when you had ran into him on his first official day at the BAU. You were a swirling rainstorm as you practically slammed your head against his chest, the paperwork you were carrying flying into the air as you toppled over like a house of cards. In that moment, Spencer could have sworn that you were untouchable. You were like a fire, burning brighter than the sun, and he would be damned if he ever made that flame flicker away. 

“Come on, Hotch, say something to him,” Derek tries again, worry laced in his tone.

Aaron hesitates as he considers his options before sighing. “He’s right. His best chase is inside. We’re gonna get a suit and mask in to you right away.”

“Don’t bother, it’s not going to do me any good. I’m already infected.” Spencer knows that if you were still part of the team that you would be scolding him about being so stubborn. Hell, you’re not even on the team anymore and you still scold him about it. 

As he continues to try and search for more clues and filtering the information he finds through to Derek, his thoughts continuously drift back to you. You and your blissfully unaware state. He thinks of the way you smile and the way you felt in his arms that day. He is sure that the universe is playing tricks with him because the one moment he finally has you, you’re ripped away from him. His mind wanders back to the way your eyes lit up and the way your lips felt against his and in that moment he’s begging. He’s begging whatever higher power there is that he is part of the 55% of people who survive an anthrax attack after treatment. 

“Hey, Reid,” Penelope’s voice echoes through the phone, sad and mopey. It’s unlike her, incredibly uncharacteristic and Spencer chokes out a quiet laugh. 

“Reid? Wow, no, uh… no witty Garcia greeting for me?” He asks, running his fingers through his damp sweaty hair. It’s disgusting and gross and he hates it because he knows that it’s a symptom of the disease. 

Penelope chuckles weakly from the other side of the line. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that so instead he asks, “Garcia, do you think you can do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“I… I know I can’t call… I know I can’t call (Y/N) or my mother without, uh–” he coughs, wiping his face with the palm of his hand and feeling his clammy skin– “without alerting everyone.”

“What do you need?”

“I– uh– I need you to record a message. Two messages. One for my mother and the other for… for (Y/N). In case anything happens to me.” His voice cracks as he speaks, his hand trembling because oh God, this really could be the end. After everything he went through going to those Narcotics Anonymous meetings, getting clean, going to therapy… this is how it ends?

“Oh, nothing is gonna happen to you,” Garcia says, wholeheartedly believing it. “You’re gonna brilliantly find ut who did this and we’re gonna treat this strain.”

Spencer lets out a nervous breath. “I hope you’re right. But if you’re not, I just… I really want to make sure that they hear my voice. Both of them.”

“Okay. Just– just give me a second,” Penelope mumbles, clicking away on her keyboard. 

“Are you ready?”

“Ready.”

“This– um, it’s for my mum first…” He clears his throat, trying to keep his voice even. “Hi, mum. This is Spencer. I just– I just really want you to know that I love you, and– and I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son.”

Penelope presses pause on that message, murmuring, “Okay. And– and for (Y/N)?”

“Is it on?” He asks quietly, coughing as the itchiness in his throat refuses to relent. “Hey, angel, it’s me, Spenc– Walter. It’s your Walter.” His voice catches in his throat as he speaks, tears slipping past his eyes as he tries to choke out the words. “If you’re getting this then something happened and I just wanted you to know that– that– that I love you. I didn’t get the chance to tell you that before but I do. I love you and I wish it didn’t turn out like this but I am– I am so glad that we had that moment.”

“Reid?”

Dr. Kimura enters the room through the sliding door, clad in a bright red hazmat suit. “Prep the victim for transfer.”

“I gotta go,” Spencer says quickly, hanging up the call and pocketing his phone. 

“Dr. Reid,” Kimura says, walking over to him.

“You look nice,” he says drily, staring at the uniform. It looks very similar to an astronaut costume and if he were in any other situation, he would have started to laugh.

Kimura chuckles quietly. “I haven’t been in this outfit for a while.”

“How… how are the patients doing?” Spencer manages to ask, and suddenly it feels as if all the air is kicked out of his lungs. His head throbs with each attempt he makes to take in a breath and sweat pools at the top of his lip. 

“Let’s worry about you.”

“I actually… I feel fine,” Spencer lies through gritted teeth, the muscles in his shoulders aching with each heave of his chest. 

Kimura nods, her concern palpable. “Okay, if you feel any pain, I can give you something.”

In an instant, the fear of losing all the progress he has made in the past year pools to his stomach and he shakes his head adamantly, ignoring the way the room spins. “No, I’d rather not take any pain medication.”

“We can at least make you feel more comfortable.”

“I am comfortable and I don’t want to take any narcotics!” Spencer says firmly, and he can see the realisation dawn in Kimura’s eyes. 

“Okay… tell me how I can help.”

“I think the cure for this strain is in here somewhere,” he says through heavy breaths, sucking in a mouthful of air with every sentence. 

It isn’t long before the hazmat team has Spencer in a decontamination tent, the smell of sterile plastic filling his nose. They’re hosing him down behind a clear plastic curtain, Derek standing in front of him. The feeling of the cold water splashing against his back is uncomfortable, and Spencer grimaces at the feeling of his clothes sticking to his skin. It’s gross and his work shirt is growing heavy from the waterweight, sagging down on his shoulders. The anthrax isn’t helping either. It’s too hot and too cold all at once, it’s too hard to breathe and it’s like his head weighs a million pounds. 

“Go help Hotch,” Spencer croaks out to Derek, shivering as they continue to spray water on his back and front.

“Hotch has plenty of people helping him,” Derek dismisses. 

Spencer shakes his head and regrets it immediately, his head starting to spin. “He needs you more than I do.”

“Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital.”

“I’m about to get naked so that they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?” Spencer deadpans.

Derek grimaces before finally saying, “What if (Y/N) were here? Would you tell her to go?”

“(Y/N)  wouldn’t mind seeing me naked.”

Derek’s eyebrows shoot upwards at Spencer’s less than innocent words, immediately turning away. “We are having a conversation about this later. Take good care of him, please.”

The ambulance is stuffy and cramped, and the scrubs that he has to wear is itchy and uncomfortable. They’re menial thoughts that don’t even matter considering the severity of the situation, and Spencer wheezes out of a cough; a reminder that he might not even live to see the next day. The nasal cannula that is attached to Spencer’s nose isn’t doing much to assist him to breathe, and he coughs again. 

“How are you feeling, Dr. Reid?” Kimura asks as she checks his vitals. 

“My throats a little dry, but other than that I feel– I flee– feel…” He blanks. His mind knows the words but they get stuck on his tongue and he panics. It can’t end like this. He refuses for it to end like this. “Flee– fleel– I–”

Kimura nods in understanding, a sense of urgency behind her words. “Okay. Okay, you’re doing okay. Driver, faster!”

“Call–” Spencer tries again, the words spinning in his head. “Pelen– Penel… low… len…”

Call Penelope, he tries to say, the lights in the ambulance growing brighter and brighter. She needs to give (Y/N) the message, she needs to… she needs to…

All he sees is white.

*** 

The first thing Spencer notices when he regains consciousness is the smell of lavender and oranges overpowering the sterile scent of antibacterial wipes. It’s comforting and familiar and he wracks his brain as he tries to remember where he remembers it from. He doesn’t remember much; only getting into the ambulance and Kimura asking him questions. He shuffles around in his hospital bed, stretching his aching muscles. He forces his eyes open little by little, and he quints at the woman at the end of his hospital bed. 

“(Y/N)?”

“You ass,” you respond tearfully, your voice cracking as you swat him lightly on the arm. “You refused treatment?”

He smiles a little, sitting up on the bed. “Hey, angel.”

“Don’t ‘hey angel’ me,” you sniffle, taking hold of his hand and stroking his palm with your thumb. “You scared me.”

Spencer hums softly in acknowledgement, squeezing your hand back. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. Kimura said that you should be free to go in a couple of days but you need rest afterwards,” you tell him, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. “You owe me a date.”

“I do,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushed and a giddy smile on his face despite where he is. He looks at you, you and his oversized CalTech hoodie. The hoodie in itself is ugly; a muted grey with a half-assed logo slapped to the front and Spencer has hated it ever since he bought it with what little funds he had back in college. Yet, for some reason, he doesn’t hate it so much when you wear it. “You look beautiful.”

You roll your pretty eyes at him, moving your chair closer to him. “Liar.”

“Never,” he whispers. “Never to you.”

You smile at him again, bringing your lips to the back of his hand. “You told me you loved me. Is that true, too?”

“Love,” he corrects you quietly, “and I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

Heat rushes up your neck at his words and you beam at him, kissing his cheeks. “I love you.”

He reaches a hand out to hold the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the line from your ear to your jaw. “I love you,” he says into the space between you, before kissing you again. 

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[bekolxeram]

I'm usually very block happy, but sometimes a couple of hot takes from the opposite side of the fandom manage to slip through. I'm no saint, I admit I do get quite worked up at first, but after some time, I realize they give me new perspectives to scenes I've watched countless times and discover things I didn't pick up before. So this one is for all of you, staunch Tommy haters, thank you for enriching my viewing experience.

In 7x04, when Tommy goes to Buck's loft to talk things out, this line gives some people the ick, because it echoes what Taylor said in 5x05. In that episode, Buck thought his team was off because they blamed him for Chimney leaving. He talked to Taylor about it, she shared her own experience with her boss being sulky around her, and it turned out her boss was just in a lot of physical pain, she ended the conversation with "maybe not everything is about you". While what she said was absolutely right, and she made an effort to make Buck feel appreciated at the end of the episode, but I can also see Buck not feeling supported emotionally at the time the conversation occurred. In a fashion true to her profession, Taylor delivered it in a very blunt, direct and advisory way. Her being right did not cancel out Buck feeling insecure about everyone acting weird around him and him not knowing why.

What Tommy says here though, is in a a completely different context.

Before all of this, Tommy has already reassured Buck that he's not trying to replace him, that his place in Eddie and Christopher's life is irreplaceable.

Look at Buck's smile, he's apparently in a better mood than before. It's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

So going in this next part, Buck is more receptive to what he frankly needs to hear: Eddie isn't hanging out with Tommy because Buck did something wrong, he just enjoys Tommy's company.

We've witnessed Buck's growth over 7 seasons, now he can recognize that getting jealous easily is one of his character flaws, he tends to overthink and make other's action personal when he's feeling insecure in a relationship. He's telling Tommy this probably to signal that he understands he messed up and he understands what he did wrong. He never expected Tommy to validate his feelings.

But Tommy does empathize with his predicament.

Buck doesn't understand what Tommy, the cool, confident (and hot) pilot would be jealous over. And he almost can't believe Tommy gets what he's been feeling.

Tommy tells Buck that he's envious of the ride-or-die familial bonds within the 118 nowadays, as if he didn't also put his career and life in danger just to save Athena and Bobby (probably Hen's career as well), after one phone call from Chimney.

Now it's Buck's turn to reassure Tommy.

Another hot take I've seen from the other side goes like "if Tommy was nicer to Hen and Chimney back in the days, he wouldn't have to be jealous over what the 118 has now". You know what? Judging by Tommy's face here, he probably would agree. This is not the face of a man who is proud of what he did. This is the face of a man who is burdened by guilt and regret, this is a man haunted by his past, this is a man who doesn't think he deserves the praise.

Buck even cites fake mouth static as an example of Tommy's effort in aiding the 118's clandestine rescue mission, and they naturally fall into a flirty dynamic. I have no explanation for that, except, your honor, this is exhibit A against the "no chemistry" allegation.

Buck then spells it all out for Tommy that he also put everything on the line just for the 118, without hesitation. Tommy looks like he still has a hard time accepting it as an act worthy of redemption for his past behavior.

We've all made mistakes, and we all know we can't go back to the past and change what we did, so the best way forward is to change ourselves and be better. Judging by Tommy's "and [Gerrard] didn't make me a better person" line in 7x10, he quite possibly reflected on this a lot. Yet, sometimes you still can't help but doubt yourself over if you've learned enough from your past, if you're a good enough person now. I can't imagine how good it feels hearing Buck say out loud that he actually likes the person Tommy is now.

Apparently Buck likes Tommy so much that he came up with excuses just to hang out with him and get to know him.

Tommy is pleasantly surprised, because he did tell Buck to call him when he wants to go up. In fact, Buck can call him for whatever reason, Tommy accepted the Harbor tour request, there's nothing indicating that he would feel weird just hanging out with Buck. Tommy just doesn't know how much of a overthinker and bi disaster Buck truly is yet, but that's the story for another time.

Buck and Tommy really don't know much, if anything, about each other at this stage, as you can see in 7x05, but they're already validating each other's feelings. We've seen Buck get his feelings ignored, hurt, dismissed and kind of fetishized for 6 seasons, now this is something he's been looking for the whole time, for someone to understand what he's going through. At the same time, this interaction must also be quite freeing for Tommy, who's been haunted by demons from his own past.

[radiance1]

Danny was having a good night, laying down on his side and purring contentedly while his tail swayed lazily. He was living a good life nowadays, freed from his responsibilities as the eternal prince of the Infinite Realms and taking on the mantle of the head of a Familia.

Perhaps, one of these days, he should try and find the wizard who turned him into a cat and thank them for it. What would a wizard even like anyway?

He pondered on that for a moment, perhaps a magical artifact or another could suffice? He stretched. Oh well, it didn't matter right now, he wasn't going to do it so soon anyways.

He opened his mouth, a yawn escaping him as he finished his stretch, tongue peeking out to lick his lips. He changed his position to something more comfortable, sinking into the lavishly soft pillows and reminding himself to get Catwoman something once again for giving him this high-quality cat bed.

Custom made too, multiple times bigger than him, the softest pillows he's ever felt and smelling extremely good. Even when multiple others forced themselves into his bed, even though they had their own as a gift from her as well.

Perhaps another diamond is in order?

His ears perked up as the sound a crash echoed throughout the warehouse, and he lazily peeked an eye open as the sound of paws running towards his direction made themselves known.

His nose twitched, the familiar scent of iron controlling the air as he sighed.

Kevin.

"Graaaaaaaaaaaamps!" A cat of what was once white fur, now stained with blood, skidded to a stop in front of him. Danny sighed once more, other eye opening as he looked at his first, and what others call his second-in-command. "I'm not that old, 150 is still quite young Kevin." He spoke calmly, no real heat in his voice and instead, amusement.

Kevin, predictably, ignored him. "You won't believe what happened tonight." Kevin then turned cheeky, stepping forwards towards his bed, and Danny had half a mind to try and prevent him from staining his bed, before discarding that thought just as quickly. "Guess!"

Danny's stare turned flat, and he had an urge to facepaw. Instead, he sighed, staring at the blood staining the other's fur before resting his head back on his bed. "You died again, didn't you?"

"Yep!" Kevin stepped onto the bed, both face and reply cheerful as the sun. "But that's not it!" Kevin bounced his way over to the elder cat, bloody pawprints marking his path on the previously clean bed.

Danny sniffed, a faint unknown tickling his nose before Kevin flopped on top of him, the blood stains on the smaller cat rubbing off on him, causing Danny to shift position, one that would support the younger better. "Oh, really?" He inquired, reaching out to grasp a glass shard from Kevin's side and placing it onto the bed.

"Yea! I fought spark, the spark!" Kevin purred, tail swishing behind him. "Can you believe it!?"

Danny hummed, picking another shard of glass from his first's skin.

"She was suuuuuper strong! Not stronger than you obviously, but she was really tough, I almost couldn't keep up with her!" Danny used a paw to silently request for Kevin to turn, and he did, with Danny plucking another shard from his skin. "She went all woosh, and boom! And then I went swish, and whish and she could barely touch me!"

"Mhm." Danny shifted, gently lowering the other, younger cat from off of him and instead to his side onto his stomach, reaching over to pick the shards from his back. "Then, then she used her power and then I was going fwoosh! Then I crashed into a nearby window and then we had to scatter because the human inside was mad about it." Kevin chirped, easily moving through his story despite the biggest pieces of glass being currently taken out of his back. "Then I ran all the way here because I wanted to tell you about it!"

"That's nice Kevin," Once he was done, Danny reached forward to lick the other on his head, his tail moving forward-the fur turning from black to glowing white- and flinging the shards of glass up through the air and into the rafters. "However." Danny's speech turned from that of a cat to one of a more humane-like tongue, his eyes narrowing at the form of one of those vigilantes running around the city- this one seems to be the Robin, based on his description of the hero- took the thrown shards of glass as a sign to drop down onto the ground.

"It seems you've managed to have drawn one of the humans into our territory in your excitement." Danny rubbed his chin against Kevin's head, uncaring for the blood soaking into his fur. "I don't blame you, that strain of human is known to be quite sneaky when they want to be."

Robin stood up, cape shrouding his form from ankle to shoulders. He narrowed his eyes at the scene, and Danny, in turn, narrowed his own as the rest of his fur turned glowing white, toxic green eyes staring at the lone human in a den of cats.

A silent threat.

"Care to explain, human known as Robin?"

[grandlinedreams]

|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification

|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching

“Where are we going?”

Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.

“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.” 

She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.) 

Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.

“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”

“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”

Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ” 

“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.” 

Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels. 

Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.

He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow. 

There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands. 

Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”

She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.

“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.” 

To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner. 

“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.” 

Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”

The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”

“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”

Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route. 

“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”

“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”

The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.” 

You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.” 

It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him. 

The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something. 

That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.

 

“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?” 

You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.” 

It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body. 

When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”

You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”. 

“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?” 

This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.

He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts. 

Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.  

“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.” 

You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that. 

Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.

Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too. 

“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.” 

Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ  but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now. 

“Take me with you.” 

That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”

“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”

Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time. 

“That's not an answer, Cooper.” 

He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”

“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.” 

He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.” 

Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.” 

Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.

Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.

Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander. 

Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg. 

“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.” 

His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him. 

The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest. 

“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest. 

“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?” 

Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face. 

“Well? Got what you need?"

Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.

And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused. 

“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”