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womanmanipulator · 1 month

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prove your love

spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

synopsis: lila gives your boyfriend heart eyes. when he’s assigned to stay over at her place you’re pissed. when spencer comes home, he makes sure to show his love for you. SMUT!!! minors dni

warnings: dom/sub, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), piv, various positions, overstimulation, pet names such as trouble, sweetheart, love, etc. very cheesy.

you slip your heels off in the hall with an aggravated huff. ‘look on the bright side, the case is over.’ your brain tries to tell you but the many sights and experiences of lila disrespecting you and glaring at you wasn’t going to leave your brain anytime soon. meanwhile, spencer got the opposite treatment, compliments, heart eyes, and lingering handshakes the entire time. she even slipped him her number, that little—

“hey,” spencer says, knocking you out of your thoughts. he can tell your brains conjuring something up. he can practically see the cogs turning in your head. “what’s got you so worked up?” he asks, taking a step towards you. his hands settle on your hips then travel to your lower back. he smiles down at you.

“nothing.” you dismiss, light and airy. trying to act unbothered. “why do you think i’m mad?” you question back, a little too defensive for your liking. “are you asking me to profile you?” he grins. you don’t get the chance to speak before he starts, “for starters, you practically ripped your heels off and threw them, you’re all tense, your fists were balled up and i can tell your thinking hard about something.” he exaggerates.

“you’re wrong because i am perfectly fine.” you state matter of factly. brushing his hands off you and walking to the bedroom. he follows after you. “holding in emotions, specifically anger, can have detrimental effects on one’s mental health. the constant internal struggle to suppress emotions can lead to even more stress, anxiety and even depression.” spencer explains. you just hum in response, searching in your closet for something comfortable, your mind doesn’t stop running about stupid lila though. he watches you. it wasn’t uncommon, he loved to observe you. most of the time it was just to see your pretty face while you were in thought but other times he liked to study your behavior and learn your routines. spencer liked to do it with you.

“you’re staring,” you comment. “i can’t help it.” he flirts. “oh please, did you tell lila that too today?” you let slip. you flush. glad you aren’t face to face with spencer right now. “that’s what this is about?” he chuckles. “cmere,” he says. you stumble over to the bed and he pulls you onto his lap. “you know i love you right?” he says. you nod. not looking at him. “so much, like i am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you, or whatever bella said.” he makes a twilight reference. you were the one who forced him to watch it. you giggle a little, meeting his eyes. he smiles. “there’s my girl.” he murmurs. your heart swoons. his hands settle on your waist and he leans in. you kiss, it’s almost like a breath of fresh air. when he pulls away, still keeping close he speaks. “i think i need to prove how much i love you, hmm?” he hums. “you don’t need to.” you mumble. “but i want to, please?” he pleads. you don’t protest for long. “okay.. if you must.” you giggle. he smiles. he’s so pretty you feel like your going to explode.

as he places you on your back, unbuttoning your shirt, he starts to spit out another fact. “did you know men are more jealous of sexual infidelity than emotional?” he asks. “women are actually the opposite, they get more jealous with ‘emotional cheating’ than sexual.” he takes his time, you always loved how smart he was. it turned you on.

“i wasn’t jealous,” you say. “oh really?” he snorts. slipping off your shirt. “yeah.” you say. he instructs you to lift your hips so he can slide your pants off. “mhmm..” he says. eyes focused on your body, he’s too distracted to make a smart comment. “she was pretty, i guess.” you try to say. lila was gorgeous. he just chuckles and shakes his head. not bothering to comment. he dips down and kisses you. nose accidentally bumping against yours and teeth clashing. it was messy, just how you liked it. “what was that thing about kissing and shaking hands?” you ask, just to hear him talk.

“the number of pathogens transferred from just a single handshake is staggering. it’s safer to kiss,” he says into the skin of your neck. “that’s interesting, tell me more.” you smile. he groans. “i can tell you all about it later, can’t i just take care of my baby now?” he smiles. “baby? what happened to trouble?” you grin. “you are trouble,” he sighs. lovingly of course. you giggle as he kisses down from your neck to your collarbone, then unbuckles your bra without struggle. pulling it off. he trails down to your tummy, pressing little kisses here and there. making you antsy. he reaches the spot you need him most and smiles into your skin as you squirm a little. “patience, trouble.” he says. he plants a firm kiss on your hipbone and pulls your panties down with one hand. “you’re so pretty,” he smiles. eyes flickering to your face. “all mine, hmm?” he hums and you nod enthusiastically. he chuckles and thumbs experimentally at your clit.

you press your hips up into his touch, leaning into it. chasing that feeling. he smirks, inserting two fingers slowly. he paws at that spongy spot within your walls. you let out a quiet moan and spencer doesn’t deem it good enough, he starts punching at the spot. abusing it almost. this pulls another moan out of you and he speeds up the movements on your clit. you almost see heaven as you arch your back, eyes rolling back. he leans down, attaching his lips on your clit and sucking harshly. thank god you weren’t standing because you would’ve doubled over with how strong your orgasm was. you try to get the words out but only pant. spencer can tell, “gonna cum, trouble?” he asks. then continues his attack on the bundle of nerves. the coil in your belly snaps, climaxing with his name on your lips.

the sound of your slick fills the room as spencer works you through your organism. eyes trained on your pussy. his fingers are pulled out, given a quick lick and suddenly his mouth is on you. lapping and drinking up your release like a man starved. “spence, wait— gimme a minute-“ moan.

your begs fall on deaf ears as he’s absolutely lost in you. there’s no pulling him out. you reach your hand down and bury it in his hair. pressing your hips into the bed to escape the overstimulation. trying to tug him off, he doesn’t listen though. moaning into you when you pull on his hair. the vibrations make you even more sensitive before, his nose brushes up against your clit as two strong hands come to hold you down on either side.

you moan, tears pricking in your eyes from the overstimulation. everything’s magnified by 10. the obscene sounds of your pussy fill the room as your poor clit is abused, spencer’s tongue prodding into you, milking you for everything you have to offer. the familiar hear fills your belly and you can feel the coil start to unwind. “spence—“ you sob. cumming again. riding against his face. you can feel that bastard smirk against you as he greedily laps up your release. “you’re okay,” he coaxs. finally pulling off of you. he presses a kiss to your mound then pulls himself up, he kisses your cheek. then wipes the stray tears on your cheek.

“hi pretty,” he says with a smile. your eyes meet his and you smile, a little dazy. “you have something on your face.” you say, remaints of cum. “do i?” he chuckles. he wipes it off with the back of his hand and kisses you. you can taste yourself on his tongue. “love you so much,” he mumbles against your lips. you don’t get the chance to respond before he’s kissing you again. a little tongue slipping in as he gets carried away. he messily kisses the corner of your mouth, then latches onto your neck. he works at his zipper, multitasking.

begrudgingly, he pulls away from you, slipping down his pants and kicking them off haphazardly. you tug at his shirt and he takes the hint to pull it off. undoing his tie and throwing it somewhere. when he FINALLY takes his shirt off you get to run your hands along his torso giddily. “y’so pretty,” you mumble. “this isn’t about me, it’s about you, trouble.” he says. slipping off his boxers. his cock slips angrily against his stomach and you almost whine. he leans down and kisses you as he slowly pushes in. the stretch burns but is bearable. “i know. its okay,” he whispers. he presses to the hilt, nudging against your cervix. you feel full, his hand slithers down and presses against your lower belly. “mmphh.” you whimper against his lips. he devours the sound and keeps his lips on yours as he starts to thrust in and out of you. pulling his head back to see your face every so often as the tip nudges against that sweet spot. it’s torturous how slow he’s going. you’re so overstimulated, tears start falling out of your eyes.

he smiles down at you, picking up the pace a little. his face contorts and he lets out a moan. you involuntarily clench at that and it punches out another sound. “trouble— can’t keep doing that.” he slurs. the wet sounds of him shoving your slick out of you fill the room as your hips collide. teeth and noses brush together messily and he’s practically devouring you. everything’s happening so fast. before you know it you’re coming again, his name recited on your lips. he works you through it, slamming into you with a feverish pace. you constrict around him and he’s not long after you, pressing himself as far as he can into you and coming. he’s whining,

you pant, he’s collapsed ontop of you. buried in your neck. tears roll down your face. “good girl, good job. taking me so well.” he praises breathily. taking? “..taking..?” you say. “don’t you mean took?”

“we aren’t done.” he lifts himself up from your shoulder, pushing his glasses up. the both of your climax leaks around his dick and spills out of you slowly. “i can’t!” you start to cry as he pulls out, he presses your knees to your chest and shoves himself back in. so much for catching your breath. “you will,” he says softly. beginning to thrust in and out of you, he’s so deep you feel it in your stomach. “that’s it, my good girl huh?” he praises into your neck, a pang of arousal shoots through your body and you can feel yourself get wetter. “spence—“ “none of the whining, you can take it.” he says. he bites at your jawline. you moan loudly. everything feels so good, it’s too much. he reaches down and starts to rub figure eights into your clit gently, a contrast to the brutal pace he had going. “there ya go, taking me so well.” he murmurs, pulling his teeth off and kissing gently. “ah- i- gonna.. cum.” you force out. almost forgetting how to talk. “let go baby.” he says. your back arches, eyes rolling back, clinging to him as if he was the one keeping your grounded. he follows after, shooting cum into you with a whimper and a “nngh.”

it’s unreal. you see stars.

when you come down from your high, your sat on spencer’s lap, dick still intact. you sob, falling into his shoulder and clinging onto him. “i can’t spence.” you sniffle from the overstimulation. if you had to come again you’d probably scream. you’d also scream though if he pulled out.

“the world record for most female orgasms in an hour is a hundred and ah- fuck, thirty six” he says as you clench around him. “i think you can.” he smirks. you push his glasses up.

you bite back, “nerd.”

that’s it

not proofread

i’m sick asf rn 🥰

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dom spencer reid #sub reader #criminal minds fic

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prod-ddeonu · 10 months

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POOL PARTY (l.hs)

MDNI! MDNI! MDNI!

PAIRING: brother's best friend! Heeseung x fem! reader

WC: ~7.3k (whoops my bad)

CW/TW: older brother's best friend, smut (MDNI, 18+) , 1% angst, family problems, fluff, degrading + praise (receiving), oral (both), fingering (receiving), protected (BE SAFE), choking (receiving), spit, hickeys, hee calls reader a slut/whore like twice, public sex/outdoor sex, drinking, assault (if you squint), jealous heeseung, he kind of has a corruption kink and size kink (?), inexperienced reader, lmk if I missed anything!

SUMMARY: Blaring music, colorful lights, free alcohol, horny girls, cool water: pool parties were Lee Heeseung's favorite type of party. When you heard that your older brother, Jake, was throwing one in your back yard for Heeseung's birthday, you took your chance to have Heeseung finally notice you. Luckily for you, Heeseung knew your plan; and two can play that game.

FEATURING: Taehyun of TXT, enha (minus Niki and jungwon)

Buy me a Ko-fi!

Much like every college student, Lee Heeseung loved three things: money, alcohol, and pool parties. You recalled this as Heeseung and your brother walked into the living room shouting about how “awesome” their party will be, raving about your parents finally deciding to go out for the weekend. Heeseung stopped in the doorway upon seeing your figure curled onto the couch, watching Twilight for the thousandth time.

“Hey, birthday boy,” you teased, your eyes leaving the television in front of you. Jake locked eyes with you before rolling his own.

“No, you can't go,” Jake replied, annoyance coating his tone. “This party is for cool people only," he swiped at a loose strand of his blonde hair as it fell over his face.

You sighed, putting a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Then why are you going?” You joked back. Heeseung laughed lightly at your response.

He walked to where he could see the screen before turning to Jake. “I don't see why she can't come, it'll be here and all the guys will be here to make sure she's safe,” Heeseung reasoned. His arms rested against the top of the couch, leaning forward as he came closer to you.

Your head turned to face your brother’s best friend, eyeing how his newly silver hair complimented his tan skin. He wore a silver chain over his shirt, the metal dangling dangerously close to you.

Jake groaned, rolling his eyes again. “That's the problem, dude! Tons of guys will be drinking and looking at my baby sister like a piece of meat!” He shouted. “It's best if she just goes to her friend's house and stays far away that night.”

Jake angrily tapped his phone, sending a text to his friends.

You scoffed. “‘Baby sister’? Jake, I'm almost twenty years old.”

He ran a hand through his hair, aggravation evident on his face. “Twenty, twelve, same shit. My answer is final, you are not going to our party.”

You shrugged in response. “And if I happen to want to go for a swim in my own pool with Sunoo, then what?”

“I’ll inflate the kiddy pool for you two.”

You fiddled with the tiny black box in your hands nervously as Sunoo, your best friend, examined its contents. “Y/N, I'm not sure this is a good idea,” he sighed, placing the object back in the box.

Your shoulders fell as you put the box next to you. Sunoo came to sit next to you, running his hand over your back soothingly. “Maybe if you would tell me why this damn thing was ‘so cool’ I'd reconsider my opinion,” the blonde gestured towards you.

You held the silver sun-shaped pendant in your palm. “It's embarrassing,” you mumbled.

“Then why are you giving it to hot boy Heeseung?”

You slapped your palm on top of Sunoo’s mouth, glancing towards your door in a panic. “Don't say that shit so loud, Sunoo!” He raised his arms in surrender before you spoke again. “I just… It's something between me and him, and I'm sure he'll understand the meaning.”

“Ooh, did you two fuck on the beach or something?” Sunoo bounced up and down, hitting his knees excitedly. “Tell me EVERYTHING!”

You laughed lightly. “No, that's not it,” you traced the outline of the metal Sun. “It’s much more meaningful and realistic than that.”

When you were sixteen, your family took a trip to the beach. You had just begun to bloom into womanhood, according to your mother. Jake had decided to bring his friend from school, Heeseung.

Heeseung was possibly the most popular senior at your high school, your brother a close second to him. You had sat at the bottom of the food chain your entire freshman and sophomore year, until you’d come to school after spring break with a completely new look.

It was the last night of your trip, and you'd decided to go out to the shore one more time before going home. You made your way out in your tank top and shorts, the sandals on your feet crunchy with sand.

The sea greeted you with its soft crashes, the salty, sticky breeze hitting you slowly. You closed your eyes and relished in the tranquility.

Quietly, sniffles began to enter your ears. Your head snapped in their direction, seeing your brother's best friend still shirtless and in his swim trunks that he'd worn all day. He sat with his knees curled into his chest, his brown hair blown askew from the wind.

You walked over to him quietly, sitting next to him with your legs out and arms behind you. “Wanna talk about it?” You asked gently, your eyes never leaving the shore.

He shook his head as it sat against his knees with another sniffle. You brought your hand up to run through his hair, a common gesture you did. Stopping mid-air, you watched as his shoulders shook with the force of his breathing.

Heeseung’s body visibly relaxed at the feeling of your fingers gently carding through his hair. “Whatever it is, it'll be okay. I'm here for you, if you need someone to talk to,” you comforted him in a light voice.

He couldn't get himself to pick his head up, too afraid to have anyone see him so disheveled. “It's- It's-” he stammered, hiccuping between words.

You shushed him, whispering that it was okay and that he didn't need to force himself. He lifted his head up, watching the way you stared towards the open ocean as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

He admired the way your hair fell over your shoulders, slightly wavy from the salt water. He watched a smile grace your cheeks, freckles and a slight tint from a sunburn being gently illuminated by the moonlight bouncing from the water.

“It's my family,” he scratched out, his throat burning from his emotions. “They just, God, they're so shit. My parents fight all the fucking time, and then they expect me to clean up their messes when they throw shit and scare my little siblings. I come home half the time to one of my parents drunk as shit, high off their ass, or flipping their shit at one of the kids.”

He glanced at you, as if to ask if he could continue. You nodded slowly, your eyes giving him all of the reassurance he needed. “I don't want to go home,” he mumbled. “This week with your family has been the best week of my life. I'm not scared to walk out of my room or talk to you all, your family is so loving and easy to be with. I'm so thankful your family let me come and treated me like one of their own.”

Heeseung cracked out another choked sob. “I'm so tired of having to work my ass off to pay bills, and fix shit, and take care of my siblings in my parents’ place, and do good in school, and-”

Heeseung felt his body freeze at the feeling of your soft fingers wiping the tears from his cheeks. He leaned into your touch as you continued to hold his face, his eyes closing in comfort. “You don't have to keep this all to yourself, y'know,” you smiled down to him.

He lifted his eyes to yours, making your breath hitch. The delicate moonlight created a shadow over his face that only served to increase his attractiveness, despite his puffy eyes. His round, doe eyes had a white shine from the illuminated night above him, and you couldn't tell if the stars you were seeing lived in the sky or if they simply lived in his eyes.

“Heeseung,” you breathed out. “You'll always be part of our family.”

Heeseung wrapped his arms around your arms, his chin coming to sit on your shoulder. You let your hands hold his back soothingly, your palms running up and down as he breathed. He brought his face back, staring into your own eyes.

His breath reached your lips with each exhale. “Y/N, you're like a ray of sunshine, y'know?” He laughed, a perfect smile over his features.

“You sound cheesy,” you joked. “But if I can be a ray of sunshine for you when you need it, then I'll be your Sun.”

The two of you sat like that, the last words of your conversation hanging in the air. His face was so, so close to your own.

His eyes flicked down to your lips as he slowly leaned in. “Whenever I need it?” He asked, gauging your reaction.

“Anytime,” you breathed out, almost whispering.

His arms unraveled from your body, hands holding your chin and cheek softly. “What if I just want it?”

You closed the distance, pressing your lips against his, hoping to God that he'd reciprocate. His lips moved against your own slowly, never escalating the kiss beyond just that: a kiss. He pulled away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against your own. He laughed lightly, his shoulders bouncing with him. “Thank you, Y/N, for talking to me. I won't forget this.”

Sunoo sat with his jaw hung open as you finished recalling the story of your conversation with Heeseung. “So you two kissed?!” Sunoo all but yelled.

You jumped up and slammed your door shut, a threatening glare in your eyes. “Shut up!” You whisper-shouted. “The last thing I need is for Heeseung to hear you, or worse, Jake!”

Sunoo swooned in your bed overdramatically. “And you got him a sun pendant to remind him you're his Sunshine, oh my GOSH! So romantic!”

You put the box back onto your desk. “Not exactly,” you smiled. “Just… friendly.”

“Oh, shut up! You guys kissed all romantically, have you two been sneaking around?”

“Nothing ever happened after that, actually. We just went back to how it was before, with him being Jake's friend and me not being allowed to interact with Jake’s guy friends.”

Sunoo slammed his hands onto your mattress. “Okay, I see the problem. We have to kill Jake.”

Your eyes widened as Sunoo wordlessly slid his finger across his throat. His eyes were wide with exaggeration.

“Oh my God, Sunoo, no! We're not killing my brother!” You laughed, your large t-shirt falling over your gym shorts.

Sunoo shrugged. “No fun,” he mumbled. He suddenly snapped his fingers as he got an idea, jumping off your bed and tearing through your closet.

You ran over to him, catching clothes as he threw them behind himself. “Sunoo, what are you doing?!” You shouted, laughter tearing through your body.

He mumbled, “I know you've gotta be hiding your sexy clothes in here,” as he flipped your entire dresser drawer of swimwear upside down. He smiled devilishly, pulling out a white bikini. He held it over your body, his tongue poking from the side of his mouth as he squinted his eyes.

“Sunoo, what are you planning?”

“We're crashing that party, and you're crashing Heeseung,” he stated. He nodded once as he examined where the suit fell and exclaimed, “SEXALICIOUS!”

You giggled, the two of you falling into fashion show mode, trying on different clothes from your closet.

Heeseung stood outside your door, a blush on his cheeks. As he'd promised, he never forgot that night on the beach. In fact, he thought about it quite often. Hearing you laugh every time he came over, seeing you run around with Sunoo happily, the way you would innocently smile at him as if he wasn't thinking about how beautiful you were that night: it drove him crazy.

As time passed and you grew into the adult you are now, Heeseung began to think about how beautiful you would be in front of him, with his cock down your throat. He wanted to ruin the innocence behind your smile.

The day had finally come. It was Heeseung’s twenty-first birthday, the day that you and Sunoo had been planning for weeks. Your parents cooked a simple ramen for everyone, the cake being the main course.

Of course, you'd helped decorate the cake. Your mother was only capable of making a sheet cake, so you helped her ice it with smiley faces everywhere and “HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEESEUNG” being drawn in the center.

Heeseung watched as you placed the candles carefully, wanting all twenty-one to be even. He walked over to you as you placed the finishing candle, noticing you were alone.

Heeseung had been planning for this day. At least, he'd been planning since he overheard your plans. He was going to drive you to your absolute limit, and put your simple plan (which he knew would already be highly effective) to its fullest potential.

He smiled at the cake, glancing at you. “Thank you, Y/N. This looks delicious,” he commented.

Your eyes shot around the room. “Watch out, Heeseung. Jake might froth at the mouth if he sees any of his friends talking to me tonight.”

“Well,” he swiped his finger into the icing, gathering a dollop of white on it, “we'll just have to be sneaky, then.”

You turned to him, mouth open and ready to scold him for messing with the cake (and your head). He smirked, dragging his finger along his tongue slowly. You watched as the icing spread over it, his tongue flat against his finger. He quietly groaned at the flavor. “Fuck,” he practically moaned.

“‘Fuck’?” You breathlessly whispered.

He looked at you, licking the rest off of his lips. “Tastes so good, Y/N,” he murmured with half-lidded eyes.

Suddenly, his sweet eyes had opened back up as his smile reached his ears again. “Can't wait to eat it!” He cheerily harped before walking out of the room, leaving you in a state of confusion and with a puddle in your skirt.

“BITCH!” Sunoo shouted upon hearing of your interaction with Heeseung. He laughed loudly, his tropical shirt and black swim trunks complimenting the sunglasses he wore atop his head. “He is so flirting with you!”

You walked out of your closet, doing a dramatic twirl in your bikini. You had a pair of glasses on your head, matching Sunoo’s. He clapped and hooted while you did a few more moves, including the iconic Elle Woods “bend and snap”.

Sunoo scanned your figure, from your curled hair down to your painted toes. “Are you seriously wearing an anklet?” He asked as you stood.

You looked down at it. “Yeah, what's wrong with it? It matched the pendant I'm giving Heeseung, I thought it would be cute.”

“It is,” Sunoo nodded, “if you want to tell him you want it to dangle over his shoulder, that is.”

He looked up at you, expecting you to take it off.

When you made no move to do so, his eyes widened as he began to shout. “Oh my God! You dirty whore, look at you growing up!”

He stood next to you, eyeing the both of you in your mirror before putting an arm over your shoulder. “We could pass as a cute couple, couldn't we?” He commented.

The two of you faked it for about two more seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunoo holding onto your shoulder to keep from falling.

As you heard the door to your house opening, followed by boisterous laughter and shouting, you knew that the party was starting. You and Sunoo walked down the stairs, your gift to Heeseung in your hands.

Jake's friend, Sunghoon, whistled lowly as you walked into the room. “Damn, Jake, didn't know you had a girlfriend,” he commented.

Heeseung turned to you quickly, his eyes going wide and his cheeks turning red as he checked you out. If he had been trying to hide it, he did not do a good job of it. He shut his open mouth and blinked quickly before trying to get ahold of himself.

Jake looked at you in shock and disgust. “That's my sister, you douche!” Jake shouted.

“Is she single?” Sunghoon asked flirtatiously.

Heeseung and Jake both shot a look at the boy.

“Off limits.”

“Don't even try it.”

The two looked at each other after they spoke simultaneously, both shrugging and looking back at Sunghoon with glares.

You came up between Heeseung and Jake, eyeing Sunghoon up and down. “Actually, I am single,” you smiled. “I'll be at the party all night, if you wanted to hang,” you hoped your attempt at blatantly flirting would get to Heeseung.

From the way his jaw clenched, it did.

Your bubble was burst, however, by Jake’s hand on your wrist. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I told you, you are not invited,” Jake dragged you back to the stairs. “Whether you live here or not, you will stay in your room.”

You opened your mouth to protest, only for Heeseung to come up next to you and pluck the sunglasses off of your head. “Why do you have these anyways? You do realize it’s nighttime, right?” He asked, putting them in his own hair.

You rolled your eyes. “Can I at least give Heeseung his birthday gift?”

Jake shook his head no as Heeseung nodded at you. He smiled tenderly, his hand settling on your shoulder. “I'll find you after the party's over so you can give it to me, yeah?”

You sighed, pretending to give in. “Alright, that works. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my room all night. All alone! The one right by the-”

“Alright, horndog, I'll be sure to relay the message that your brother will beat the shit out of anyone who tries to go, don't worry,” Jake began to push you up the stairs.

As Jake and Heeseung greeted more people, you watched the red solo cups fill outside your window. “Sun,” you called out, “do you think girls are gonna hit on Heeseung?”

“I think girls are going to flash him, too,” Sunoo deadpanned. You frowned at him, your makeup not being able to hide your worry. “Girls are going to throw themselves at a hot guy like him, but that guy out there was one of many who will be begging for your attention tonight.”

He walked over to you, rubbing your arms. “You are hot shit tonight, babe. If you want Heeseung to notice you, you've gotta flaunt it.”

After the two of you snuck back into the party, it took about five minutes before a guy offered to show you how to use a keg. Once you'd gotten that information, you were unstoppable.

You had about four cups of beer before deciding to take a break, the buzz making you dizzy. You let your feet dangle into the water of the pool, watching the way the water rippled under your feet.

The slight waves in your pool from people swimming reminded you of that night on the beach so many years ago. There was no way Heeseung remembered, you thought. You were probably just a kid to him, or a little sister.

You looked up and took in the scene of your backyard. You’d seen it from your window many nights, but you’d never been immersed into it. Girls ran around with pool floats in skimpy swimsuits, guys targeted one another with water guns, your pool was decorated with LED lights and stray solo cups, and your brother was easily the life of the party.

Currently, your dad’s expensive speaker setup for the pool was blaring “Beauty and a Beat” by Justin Beiber. You watched as a beach ball was tossed around the party, beer splashing onto the ground and water dripping down bodies.

You felt a leg brush against your own as someone sat next to you. A shirtless man with big eyes and an impressive physique sat next to you, his hair dripping with water. “You ever been to one of Jake’s parties?” The man asked.

You shook your head, “I’ve only ever heard of them, this is my first party.” The man watched as you took another chug of your drink.

He let his hand touch against the flush on your cheeks, smiling at you. “I can tell, you look bored as fuck. My name’s Taehyun.”

“Hi, Taehyun. I’m Y/N,” you smiled, holding your hand out for him to shake.

He looked at you with a confused smile, shaking your hand slowly. He then intertwined your fingers, his pink hair dripping water into your hand. His muscles flexed as he helped you stand with him, his pretty hand coming to steady you. “Say, do you want something a little better than beer? It tastes like shit, a pretty girl like you needs quality drinks."

You glanced at your cup, eying the amount of beer you had left. You chugged the rest, nodding as you swallowed. “Yeah, what the hell? I'm always up for a challenge.”

He cocked a brow. “Oh? I like that,” he held your hands as he led you to the drink table.

You handed him your cup as he poured a mixture of clear liquid, lime, and frozen pink lemonade into a cup. “Try this. It's good, and it's not enough to fuck you up off one cup,” he smiled.

You pushed the drink down your throat, your eyes widening as you swallowed. “Holy shit, Taehyun. This tastes like a fucking slushy.”

“I know, it's awesome,” he praised himself.

As you laughed, you felt a pair of eyes glaring at you. You hoped it wasn't Jake as you sound around.

Heeseung sat behind you, a girl sitting sideways on his lap. You watched as she ran her hand up and down his chisled abs, his hands behind his head. She whispered into his ear, a smirk crossing his lips, but you knew she didn't have his undivided attention at the moment.

His eyes were burning into you, and if looks could kill, the entire neighborhood would have gone up in flames. With a clenched jaw and raised eyebrows, he glared at you as if to say don't even try it. He stared at you so intently that you felt almost ashamed for talking to Taehyun.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your trance. “Taehyun, do you want to try a sip?”

He looked you up and down. “I mean, sure,” he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close enough to have you pour the drink into his mouth yourself.

Your lips curved into a smile. “Flirting, huh?” You teased him.

He smiled back. “Is it working?”

You grabbed his chin, forcing his face closer to yours. “Only if you're looking to get laid tonight,” you said, sure that Heeseung was reading your lips.

You glanced at the boy, his jaw clenched again. He returned his focus to the girl on his lap, his hand gripping at her thigh. You watched as she turned to him, a gasp escaping her lips.

Taehyun smirked as he crashed his lips into yours, a much different kiss from the one you shared with Heeseung four years ago. His hand wove its way into your hair, his other hand holding your hip. He pushed your body against his, your back arching into him as you let out a moan.

He took the opportunity to insert his tongue into your mouth, clashing against your own. He sucked your tongue harshly, his lower hand gravitating towards your ass. You brushed your leg against Taehyun’s crotch, a low groan leaving his lips as he pulled away. “Maybe we should take this where we can't be seen by everyone, yeah?”

You nodded, Taehyun already starting to lead you to the side of your house. You watched as the two of you walked into the seclusion of the shadow cast by it, your heart racing.

Maybe, having seen Heeseung with the other girl and believing he doesn't want you the way you want him, you could move on.

Taehyun placed a hand on the wall of your house, your foreheads touching. “God, you're so hot,” he sighed, capturing your lips again. It was one filled with lust, with teeth clashing and lip biting.

You grabbed his hand and lifted it to your chest as he backed away and looked at you. “Are you sure?” He asked. “I don't want it to be the beer talking.”

You nodded, throwing your head back as he kneaded your boob over your swimsuit. He squeezed your mound in time with every jab of his tongue into your mouth, occasionally pinching your nipple through the material. You had all but cum from him just kissing and touching your chest when he was suddenly ripped away from you.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Taehyun shouted, bracing himself as he hit the ground.

You watched as Heeseung didn't spare the man a glance, his attention entirely on you. His eyes raked over your figure mercilessly, making you feel small in your own yard.

Taehyun looked between the two of you, confusion and anger evident on his face. “Tae, go back to the party. You don't want her,” Heeseung said in a low voice.

Taehyun scoffed. “And who are you to make decisions for her?” His arms came to cross in front of his chest.

“She's Jake’s little sister,” Heeseung turned his head to face the other. “He'll kill you.”

Taehyun cursed under his breath before running off, hoping your brother hadn't seen your show earlier. Your eyes followed him, wondering if he could’ve given you what you’d been hoping for.

You glared at Heeseung. “What the fuck is your problem, Hee? You can't just tell me what to do!” You pushed him back by his chest, your smaller hands barely moving him.

Heeseung’s eyes locked onto yours, his stare harder than anything you’d seen before. He stared at you like you were wrong for kissing Taehyun, wrong for kissing anyone else. His hair, which he used your sunglasses to push back after jumping into the pool, still dropped some water onto his neck and shoulders. You watched as a droplet fell down his collarbones, trailing down his chest and stomach, collecting in the waistband of his swim trunks.

You wanted to lick every bead of water off of his body.

His tongue peeked out of mouth to wet his lips, his teeth catching the bottom of the two as his eyes fell to where Taehyun had touched.

His hands balled into fists as he fought his desires. He closed his eyes, groaning in anger. “Go to your room. Jake will never talk to either of us again if we do this.”

He turned to walk away, taking two steps before you spoke up. “Do fucking what, Hee? Instead of me falling for that fucking show you put on earlier with the cake, I decided to go and find someone who was actually into me. Nowhere does that involve you!”

Heeseung turned around. “You think I’m not into you? You don’t think I’ve been fighting myself to not kiss you all this time?” He raised his voice, the tension finally getting to him.

Suddenly, it was too hot outside. In the cool night air, your body temperatures began to rise to unseen numbers.

“I don’t know, Heeseung. You sure didn’t have to do much fighting if you’ve lasted four years.”

He slammed his hand against your head onto the wall, much harder than Taehyun had. Your faces were inches away from one another, you could smell the beer on his breath. “I see your pretty fucking lips in my dreams, Y/N. I’ve had to imagine your pretty little face and how it would look if you were choking on me for ages, and tonight, I have to watch you parade around with your ass out and your tits barely covered? Do you know how badly I wanted to rip these clothes off you when you walked down those stairs?”

You held your breath, his eyes glancing to your lips. “What makes you think I won't just walk away and go find someone else?” You asked. The two of you both knew you were bluffing, an empty threat that only served to make Heeseung angrier.

“If anyone’s fucking you tonight, it’s gonna be me.”

Heeseung looked into your eyes, how they were wide with anticipation for him. He looked down to your lips, admiring how they were already pouty and puffy for him, begging for him to kiss you right. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to your own.

You threw your arms over his shoulders, his hand holding the back of your head as he pushed your mouths impossibly close. His other hand slid down the curve of your hips, holding onto your leg and pulling it up to wrap around his hips. You moaned as you felt his hard-on press into you, Heeseung taking the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. The two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, Heeseung winning and taking your lip between his teeth. He backed away, loving how you looked under him. “Go inside. I’ll excuse myself from the party and meet you in your room.”

You nodded, walking towards your front door to sneak back in. Heeseung jogged back around the house to find your brother. Jake was laughing with his friends, a girl sat on his leg as he played with her hair. “Yo, Heeseung!” He called out, obviously plastered.

Heeseung walked to him, yawning. “Dude, I hate to say this, but I’m feeling super tired. Must’ve been all the swimming and all the beer, man.” Jake looked around the party, seeing how everyone else was still partying.

Jake put his cup onto the table behind him. “Do you want me to call off the party? It is your party, after all.”

Heeseung shook his head. “Nah, keep it going. I’m just gonna head inside and go to bed, but don’t stop the party. Keep it going as long as possible, actually.” Jake cocked a brow at him in confusion. “In my honor, y’know,” he added. Jake gave him a thumbs up, standing and shouting something incoherent, to which everyone else cheered.

Heeseung ran inside, practically flying up the stairs and to your room. He swung your door open, slamming it shut and smashing his lips onto your own again. He reached his hand behind your back to push the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders, halting all movement when you pushed him off of you.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with worry.

You shook your head, grabbing the black box from your desk and handing it to him. “I wanted to give you this first. I think you’ll like it.”

He nodded, opening the box. “Is that for this?” He asked, holding his chain out. You nodded, helping him put the pendant on.

You sighed as you looked at it. “It’s supposed to be because-”

“Because I called you my ray of sunshine, I remember. I go to sleep thinking about that kiss,” he mumbled at the end.

You pointed to your ankle. “I have the matching anklet. Figured it would look good over your shoulder.”

Heeseung looked up at you, the toothy grin on his lips contrasting the filthy words coming from them. “I know exactly what position I want you in first.”

He kissed you again, unclasping your top and pulling it off of you as he made his way down your jawline and neck. His fingertips fluttered down your arms gently, goosebumps appearing behind them. He bit along the bottom of your neck, leaving small bruises in his wake. You swallowed a moan, earning a harsh bite from him. “Let me hear your pretty voice, babe,” he whispered into your ear.

His hand slid to your boob, experimentally pinching your nipple with his thumb and index finger. You let out a quiet moan, melting into his touch.

He brought his other hand to your waist, his thumb rubbing circles onto the side of your stomach. He kissed his way down your chest, leaving hickeys all the way down to your free boob. You moaned as he licked your other nipple, the cold air hitting his saliva and making it perk.

You let out a loud moan, hands flying to the top of his head as he sucked harshly and rolled your other nipple between his fingers. He pushed you against your bed, your legs falling over the side as your back lay on the edge. He continued to roll your nipple between his fingers as he kissed down the valley of your tits, down your stomach, and to the hem of your swimsuit bottoms. "Already so wet for me, why didn't you say you needed me, baby?" He smirked against your stomach, his fingers already curling underneath the material.

“You talked so much shit earlier, and now look at you. You can't even tell me how bad you want me to eat your fucking pussy,” he mused. “Tell me, am I the first?”

You felt his hot breath fan over your clothed core, your wetness showing through the white material. “Y- You’re the first,” you breathily said. Heeseung let out a low groan, a dark smile appearing.

He ripped the clothing down your legs, throwing them to the corner of your room. He looked down at your core, your lips glistening with your wetness. “Fuck, I’ve barely even touched you,” he let the sight and smell invade his senses. “So pretty, baby, so pretty for me. Almost like you were made to be my pretty whore.”

Your hole clenched around his words, the praise going straight to your stomach. He put his finger on your clit, rubbing slow circles over it before dragging it down to your hole and back up. He pulled his finger to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. Sucking your juices into his mouth, he closed his eyes and moaned. “Taste so good, might have to just eat you out until you’re begging for my cock.”

“Hee, please,” you whined.

“Please what, babe?” He cooed, the tip of his finger pushing into where you needed him most. “You think Taehyun could’ve made you needy like this? Think he could’ve had you whining for him like this?”

“N- No, Hee, only you,” you moaned as he pushed his finger all the way in, curling it to make your back arch.

He laughed cruelly at how sensitive you were, fanning his breath over your heat. He wanted to watch the way you squirmed over a singular finger, wanted to see the way you saw stars from him doing so little to you. He wanted to stay strong, palming himself over his shorts to the sound of you.

You moaned loudly, your legs twitching. Heeseung growled, his resolve shattering into pieces as he dragged the tip of his tongue up from your hole to your clit slowly, eyes rolling back in his head at the taste.

"Fuck, Y/N, you taste so amazing. Could eat you all day."

He latched his lips onto your folds, licking and sucking your slick until his nose and chin were shiny with it. He pumped his finger fast, a relentless pace building up. You felt a knot in your stomach building, his lips coming to latch around your clit and suck. “‘m close,” you mumbled, your head thrown back.

He sloppily licked over your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the euphoria he’d been building you up to. He added a second finger, stretching you out and pushing you over the edge. You saw white and your ears rang as he swallowed as much of your juices as he could, the rest coating his chin and nose still. Once he was sure you’d come down from your high, he brought his lips to your own and kissed you, forcing you to taste yourself. It wasn’t as sweet as he made it out to be, but if he enjoyed it, you guess.

“So good for me, you’re so, so good for me baby. My pretty baby, already all fucked out for me,” he commented, holding your jerking hips down. “Get on your knees.”

You obeyed, sliding to the floor on your weak legs, your eyes staring into his. He pulled his shorts off of his body, his hard dick slapping his stomach, leaving a string of precum attaching his tip to his lower abdomen. He looked at you expectantly. “Can’t expect me to teach you everything, not when you were gonna give another guy the same like I haven’t been waiting.”

You wrapped your hand around his member, the tip continuing to leak into your hand. Heeseung wasn’t monstrously thick, but he was long. His girth was what you’d consider average, if not a little above, but his length was longer than you’d imagined he could be. You used your thumb to spread his precum down the underside of his cock, bringing your head to lick up the trail you created from base to tip. He threw his head back, a pretty moan slipping past his lips as you put your lips around the tip and sucked.

The tension in his shoulders released, his jaw going slack as you tried to fit him inside your mouth. He found it so cute how you tried your best, but so sexy that your proportions were so much smaller, that he had to fit himself in you.

You used your hands to stroke where you couldn’t reach, your head not going very far beyond his head. He moaned loudly as you used your tongue against his slit, his hand collecting your hair into a ponytail. He thrusted into your mouth, his dick going down your throat and making you gag. “Shit, baby, are you okay?” He asked quickly.

You nodded, pulling yourself off of him. “I’ve never done this before, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he stroked the side of your face. “That makes this more fun. I can help, if you want.”

“Please.”

His cock twitched in your hands as he looked down at you, your eyes teary and your chin dripping with slobber. You were fully naked on the floor in front of him, your hair messy and your chest marked. And you looked so beautiful for him.

He moaned at the begging tone of your voice, the hand in your hair holding your head in place as he thrusted forward. He was holding back from going fast, you could tell. You gripped his thighs, your nails digging into them as you moaned around his dick. He sucked in a breath, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit,” he hissed, “I almost came doing that.”

He pulled you up by your hair, the pain making you drip down the inside of your thighs. You moaned loudly as he jerked your head around, littering your chest with more hickeys. “Trying so hard to be gentle with you, I promise. You’re just so perfect, want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Hee, be rough. Wanna feel you,” you moaned into his kiss.

His eyes squeezed shut, a low groan emerging from the back of his throat. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He threw you onto your bed, climbing on between your legs and pinning your hands above your head with one hand. He kissed you roughly, his teeth grazing whatever skin they could.

His finger tapped the side of your lips. “Open,” he commanded. You opened your mouth, watching the glob of saliva fall from his lips. “Swallow.” You let the warm liquid travel down your throat as he said it. “Good girl,” he cooed in your ear sweetly, his stomach filling with warmth as he watched you. “Want everyone out there to hear how good you are for me. So bratty and talkative outside, and now you want my cock so bad you’ll do anything, isn’t that right?”

You nodded. “Want you s’ bad, Hee,” you whined as he rubbed his thumb against your clit. “Wanna feel you in me.”

You reached under your pillow, pulling a condom out and handing it to him. He ripped the package open with his teeth, sliding the rubber on easily. “Had it ready for me, you knew I’d be in you tonight, didn’t you? My pretty little slut,” he teased as he pressed the tip of his dick against your hole.

He grabbed your legs, bringing them over his shoulders. True to your word, your anklet dangled next to his face as his matching necklace hung over your face. He pushed your legs closer to you, pressing you in on yourself as he slowly started to push in. “Stop teasing,” you stammered. “P- Push it in all the way.”

He threw his head forward, watching his cock disappear into you and bulge in your stomach. “S’ tight, s’ happy I got to fuck this pretty pussy. Can’t believe you almost let someone else see this when you know it’s all mine,” he spoke filthily over you.

He slowly began to thrust in and out, building up to a fast pace that had your bed creaking. His jaw hung open, shameless moans spilling from his mouth. His breath would catch in his throat, short gasps telling you he found this as pleasurable as you did. His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing until you felt lightheaded. He brought you up by your neck to kiss you.

This kiss was much softer and slower than the others. He took his time savoring your lips and their pillowy feel, he committed the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his to memory. He let your head fall back down as he brought his head into your neck. You felt the familiar tightening in your stomach that you had before, his dick filling you up entirely. He moaned into your ear, words of praise falling from his delicate lips with each thrust. “‘S good, ‘s perfect, all mine,” he said. "Ngh, fuck, feels 's tight around me."

Your nails scratched down his back as he ruthlessly pounded into you, a loud moan escaping him as he felt the pain. You moaned his name louder the harder he pounded into you, only fueling his drive. He picked his head up, his eyes bearing into your own. “Tell me whose cock is making you feel this good, hm? Who’s making this tight little pussy cum so hard, hm? Is it anyone out there, or is it me?”

“You, ‘s all you, Heeseung. Don’t want anyone but you, Hee,” you moaned. You felt your orgasm coming quick the more he teased you. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Heeseung sucked hard against your neck. “Fuckin’ love when you call me that,” he groaned in your ear. “You’re my baby, all mine, I’m all yours,” he cooed. “Only this pretty pussy makes me feel this good, nobody else.”

You pulled Heeseung back down to you, “Shut up and kiss me, ‘m so close.”

“Fuck, me too,” he said, molding his lips to your own. His mouth caught your whines and moans as you came undone onto him, your cum coating his abdomen and thighs. Your hole spasmed around his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm, making him release into the condom.

He panted into your ear, his forehead against your own. The two of you sat in that position for a few minutes, catching your breaths and kissing one another.

He slowly pulled out of you, tying the condom and tossing it into the trash can. He came back to lay on top of you, holding your waist as he did so. He pulled your blanket over you both, bringing you up to your pillows. “Jake’s gonna wonder where you are, Hee,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he laughed, his hand intertwining with your free one. “Just had sex with the girl I’ve been in love with for four years, he can suck it up.”

You looked down at him. “You’re in love with me?”

He looked back up at you and nodded. “You couldn’t tell?”

“Heeseung, I was going to give up on you after tonight if nothing happened.”

“I was supposed to move on from you too, but I realized I didn’t give a fuck about Jake’s overprotectiveness.”

You laughed. “I don’t think he’ll be too mad. He does trust you with his life, after all,” you smiled while rubbing your thumb over his hand. He brought his head to lay on the pillow next to you, bringing your body closer to his. “So, what does this mean for us?”

Heeseung ran his hand down your side soothingly. “Well, Sunshine, even though I did it insanely out of order,” he laughed, “I’d like to take you out on actual dates and get your parents’ approval and all. Y’know, court you and shit. Treat you like someone I want to spend my life with.”

You smiled. “I’d like that, Hee.”

The two of you fell asleep like that. Needless to say, Jake was not pleased when he went to look for Heeseung in the morning. Your parents immediately gave him the seal of approval to date you, but Jake took much longer to come around. It wasn’t until Heeseung told him he wouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend until he got Jake’s approval that Jake realized how stupid his friend was.

“You mean to tell me, you’ve been in love with my little sister since that vacation, but you’re waiting on something as stupid as my approval to ask her out?” Jake had asked one morning while the three of you ate breakfast together.

Heeseung nodded, pouring another bowl of cereal for himself. “Yep, pretty much,” he smiled.

“Dude, it’s been, like, a fucking month!” Jake exclaimed. “Why would you do that?”

“He wanted to wait for his best friend to be happy for him and the little sister,” you grumbled, morning crankiness being your worst enemy. Jake looked between the both of you, his eyes wide.

Heeseung’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes like it usually did, his spoon aimlessly stirring his meal. “I want my best friend to not hate me for life if I date his little sister,” Heeseung corrected you.

Jake slammed his fist onto the counter, making you both jump. “Dude, I might beat your ass. Really,” he glared at Heeseung. “I can get over you two dating, but I won’t be able to get over you hurting her.”

“I would never-”

“That includes being an idiot and making her wait,” Jake interrupted Heeseung. “Ask the girl out-”

“Hello, ‘girl’ is right here,” you waved.

Jake held a hand in front of your face. “Ask the girl out, and make her happy.”

Heeseung pushed Jake’s hand out of your face, leaning over the counter. “Hey, girl,” he smiled. Jake rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, leaving his cereal on the counter. Heeseung grabbed your hand with his. “How happy would it make you if I took you out tonight?”

“Well, in my mind we’ve been dating for four years, so I’d be pretty happy,” you smiled as you put a spoonful of cereal in your mouth.

“Well, girl, I’m excited to celebrate our imaginary four year anniversary when you become my girlfriend tonight."

NOTES: ohhh my gosshhhh this took so long to write 😭 never really written this much before, I'm scared it's repetitive or boring. I just listened to Beauty and a Beat and my mind was like "omg heeseung at a pool party yass"

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated, and my asks/requests are always open!

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alexiethymia · 3 months

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Yor Briar, Yor, and Yor-san

I was reading an excellent post about the nuance in the original japanese and now I thought I’d take a crack at what this means for Loid (although other people have already made an excellent analysis on this).

Loid has only called her Yor Briar in the beginning and when he was suspecting her of playing him. But Fiona’s insistence on her full name, Yor Briar, and her notice of Loid’s seemingly stubborn refusal to use it seems to me that Loid had always previously referred to assets by their full name. It could also be pragmatic in that he knows Fiona wants the ‘role’ of his wife hence her stubborn insistence of using Yor’s maiden name, so he uses Yor-san to counter Fiona’s way of delegitimizing Yor’s role. But I don’t think Loid can sense the real reason for Fiona’s insistence, so while in his view Fiona may be acting unprofessionally, generally speaking, I think Loid would be the one acting unprofessionally in constantly using ‘Yor-san’ to refer to his ‘wife’ to his WISE colleagues especially if he didn’t use to do that before (which yeah it’s hard to imagine him addressing his other marks that way).

Although the audience knows that Fiona is acting far from being professional, with Loid’s limited knowledge of her feelings, wouldn’t she actually have a point in referring to Yor as YOR BRIAR in a working setting? Because isn’t that all she was supposed to be? An asset or a tool? And yet Loid seems annoyed by that and insists on humanizing her by calling her, Yor-san.

Now someone might say, that’s nothing to make a big deal about. It would have been a big deal had he referred to her as ‘just’ Yor without the honorific. Because using someone’s name without honorifics is supposed to connote a deeper sort of intimacy. But that’s the thing. It would have been a forced intimacy for show. ‘Yor’ is his mode of address when he’s putting on a show of being a loving husband, complete with that <fake> Loid Forger voice. Yor is what he calls her around her colleagues or his colleagues (Nightfall undercover as Fiona at the hospital) to present how they’re a completely ordinary, close and loving family. In a way, it’s a subtle cue to Yor as well that they’re in ‘family’ mode now or ‘husband-and-wife’ mode. Yor denotes her as being a mask.

Which is actually why Yor-san is perfect. If Yor Briar is her as an asset, Yor is her as a mask, then Yor-san is her as a partner. He’s used women to get to his goal before. The only thing different now is Anya and the fact that on some level he is also working together with Yor. Had he actually succeeded in his first honeytrap attempt with Yor when he thought she had fallen in love with him, I imagine that he might have started treating Yor the same way he did his other assets before. But thank goodness it didn’t succeed, and in my view, he ended up falling into the trap instead.

Yor-san is perfect because it parallels the way Yor calls him. It’s perfect because it conveys the perfect level of intimacy. They’re not actually a lovey-dovey couple as ‘Yor’ would imply, but unfortunately for Nightfall, she’s also not just ‘YOR BRIAR’ another tool to him. It’s perfect because it conveys respect which Loid has a healthy amount of for Yor. If he can help it, he doesn’t like using her. And Nightfall is right to be worried that this comfortable mode of address of Loid’s is bleeding over to Twilight as if to blur the two. Loid is supposed to be an entirely different person or character so what does it mean that Twilight also calls his wife the same way Loid does? ‘Yor-san’ and ‘Loid-san’ are partners in a lot of ways. Yor-san is whom he can let down his guard down around, and someone this perfectionist spy can ask help from and rely on.

So what about Yuri Briar? He doesn’t know the true nature of Yor and Loid’s arrangement. Shouldn’t he be calling her Yor in front of him to keep up the ruse? Again, I think part of it is pragmatic. He doesn’t want to further aggravate the siscon. But especially in light of Chapter 86 and Volume 10’s inner cover, I think (at least unconsciously) it’s because Yuri is family. I notice that Twilight hasn’t even kept up the Loid persona as much in front of Yuri anymore (which tbf can’t blame him cause how do you even react to Yuri) but it’s not as if Yuri is someone to be underestimated. Some way or the other, even if he doesn’t fully realize it, I think Twilight is starting to treat Yuri like how Yor treats him or at the very least he can’t treat him like any other enemy or bystander because he’s someone important to Yor. Which again as CH 86 would show, Fiona has already noticed, and Twilight himself is angry at himself about. I don’t think Twilight has realized any sort of feelings for Yor yet, but I guess to Fiona, his mode of address for her is and has always been telling.

It’s actually interesting to think that perhaps it’s when he’s calling her ‘Yor-san’ that he’s most like himself - like Loid, Twilight and the boy before there was Twilight all at once - with her.

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wayfayrr · 14 days

Note

Yo yo yo guardian headcanons here

The links have been arrested.

What crimes are they charged with?

Hard mode.

No repeats

honestly not hard to belive they would be for one reason or another

Time - Identity theft Twilight - Goatnapping Legend - Shoplifting, embezzlement, Tax evasion, loitering, aggravated assault, kidnapping, rebellion, resisting arrest Wind - Piracy Warriors - War crimes Wild - Arson Tears - Unlicenced driving Sky - Property damage Hyrule - gambling Four - Insurance fraud, counterfeiting

#legend has a lot of games #he's got a lot of crimes too #I am mean to that man #lu legend #lu twilight #lu time #lu wind #lu warriors #lu wild #lu tears #lu sky #lu hyrule #lu four

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thelreads · 3 months

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OH MY GOD YURI PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD YOU WANT TO KILL TWILIGHT OR ME?

Why do I feel that this question is only gonna aggravate the situation even further?

TWILIGHT'S GONNA FUCKING HAVE AN ANEURYSM I CAN SEE IT HAPPENING

#theLreads #reading #manga #liveblog #Spy x Family #SxF #Spy x Family Liveblog #SXFC80

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aralezinspace · 3 months

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Summer Knight Part 1

When Crown Prince Morpheus is summoned to his father's court for the summer, he expects it to be just as tedious and aggravating as any other season spent in the Dreaming's capitol. What he doesn't expect is an attempted kidnapping, a successful kidnapping, uncovering designs on the Dreaming's throne, and a handsome esquire he really isn't supposed to fall in love with. How can he not, when Hob Gadling sees him for who he is, and not just his station? How can he not, when Hob is willing to burn down the world for him? Or: Prince!Morpheus/Commoner!Hob Gadling medieval/fantasy AU

~~Masterlist~~

After three months (probably more tbh) here it is! My contribution to the Centennial Husbands Big Bang.

This would not have been possible without the support of the entire Sadman server, for which I am endlessly (haha) thankful. @delta-pavonis and @signiorbenedickofpadua, I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without your eyes and encouragement. Thank you for letting me scream about these boys at/with you, for ideas when I got stuck, for helping me tease out the snags. Y’all are fantastic. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE

This beautiful incredible art by @wolf-and-raven-dreaming / @ambarden I’m just blown away. Thank you so much for bringing such a beautiful moment to life, especially one that I didn’t get to give as much detail in this fic. I’m obsessed with it, prob gonna make it my phone background 💖

If this story inspires you to create something of your own, please share with me so I can keysmash and gush over what you make!

Divider by @cafekitsune

Prologue

Once, in a time out of thought and memory, there was a realm called the Dreaming- so named because a place so magical and splendid could only possibly exist in one’s most vivid imaginings. The weather was always as it should or needed to be, the land lush and bountiful, even in the harshest climates. The people of the land were, on the whole, prosperous and contented. The Dreaming was not without its troubles and hardships and tragedies- no land is, no matter how prosperous- and for some, life was rather hard, but never unbearable.

Like any kingdom in a faerie story, the Dreaming was ruled by a king, a queen, and their children. This story, however, only concerns one, the third son, Prince Morpheus Aeterna. Morpheus and his six siblings each ruled a shire within the Dreaming, with the capital city of Istoria on the eastern coast, the lands of the Dreaming appearing to fan out from the city like rays of the rising sun.

Morpheus was lord of one of the Dreaming’s most important and vital border shires- after all, that’s what you did with a third child, a second son, with a great aptitude for ruling. One who also happened to be heir to the throne, the next in line to be called Dream King. His shire was called Fiddler’s Green- the land was varied, a little corner of everything: snow capped mountains, lush fields of vibrant grass and wildflowers, bountiful forests, a beach of black sand bordering a navy inland sea.

Morpheus’ kingdom shared a border with the realm of Fawney Rigg, a land of dense thickets and haunting mists and old, angry trees. It was ruled by King Roderick Burgess, a ruthless and bitter old man who should have had many happy years yet before him. But, his greed and jealousy were near endless; he had already conquered several other realms by war, subterfuge, or a combination of both. In the twilight of his life, he set his sights on the Dreaming, and it is here our story begins.

“My lord?”

Morpheus was jolted from his wandering thoughts by Lucienne, his most trusted advisor.

“My lord, a message has arrived from your father the king.”

A frown etched itself onto the Prince’s face as he pushed his breakfast to the side- what an aggravating way to start his morning. He took the tightly rolled scroll of thick, handmade paper and unrolled it with long, bony fingers. His frown grew more pronounced the further he read.

“My lord?” Lucienne was almost hesitant, her fingers tight around the ledger she carried. “What news from his majesty?” Morpheus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture he had picked up from his father despite his best intentions.

“It is a summons,” he ground out. “He wishes me to attend him at court for the summer.”

Lucienne frowned with a pang of sympathy. To say that Morpheus and his father King Chronos Aeterna did not get along was well beyond an understatement. Morpheus was the opposite of everything his father had wanted him to be, showing more interest and aptitude in creative and scholarly pursuits than learning the craft of war, as was expected of a crown prince responsible for strategically valuable border territories.

Spending any amount of time at his father’s court was tedious at best. An entire season was sure to be nigh unbearable.

He gave a resigned sigh. “Begin making travel arrangements. I will draft a response to my father.” He gave the order with all the flat dread of someone about to face the noose. It was going to be a long summer.

And so it came to pass that Morpheus began the four day journey, following the border of his land and Fawney Rigg until they reached the Gates of Horn and Ivory, massive gates and walls carved of white stone that spanned the entire border of Istoria. If one walked along the wall from end to end, they would see the entire history of the Dreaming laid out before them, carved into the stone. Morpheus could feel his hackles rise as the gates creaked and groaned open, allowing him and his party into the bustling city. He thought he could feel the mythical creatures carved into the gates frowning at him. Folks going about their business immediately stepped out of the road and bowed, looking up through their lashes, hoping to catch sight of the Prince and not just a flutter of emerald livery in the wind.

The procession slowly made its way to the palace, where the King, Queen, and their retainers were waiting at the top of the great stone stairs. Marble walls and gates that were miniature recreations of those guarding the city, depicting the history of the Aeterna line, were flung wide open, knights standing at attention. Banners bearing the golden Aeterna crest on deep blue fabric flapped in the breeze.

Morpheus’ first thought was that his mother seemed pale. Queen Nocturna had always been fair- Morpheus owed his complexion to her, along with his bright blue eyes- but under the light of the late afternoon sun she looked frail and sickly in her midnight gown, as if the slightest breeze would scatter her into dust. Her hair had long since faded from inky black to the shining silver of the moon, but it lacked the luster Morpheus remembered. Had it really been that long since he had seen his parents? Had something happened?

Beside her, King Chronos stood as regal and stony as ever. There were a few new lines on his face, and a few more gray hairs in his dark beard, but the frown he had reserved for his third child since Morpheus reached his majority was dour and disapproving as ever.

The Prince was announced as he dismounted and approached the foot of the staircase, a herald bellowing his numerous titles for the assembled. When that list was exhausted, he ascended the stairs until he was two steps below where the King and Queen stood, leaving him shorter than his parents– normally he was of a height with his father, and half a head taller than his mother.

Chronos shook his son’s hand with a stiffness only Morpheus could see. “Be welcome, my son.” The King ground his teeth. “It is good to see you.”

Morpheus quickly bowed his head with a curt, “Father.”

Once Chronos released his hand, the Queen enfolded Morpheus in her willowy arms. She could feel some of the tension leave his body in the relative safety of her embrace. Her smile was beaming when she pulled away to look at him.

“You look well, Morpheus. I’ve missed you, my dear.”

Morpheus kissed her cheek in greeting with a tenderly murmured, “Mother.” The Queen had always been a refuge for her son when his father insisted on Morpheus being someone he was not- she encouraged him to pursue his passions, constantly reminding him that there was more than one way to be a strong King. Always out of earshot of Chronos- even to his wife and son, he was their King first, a father and husband second, and his word was law.

“Come,” Chronos said to Morpheus, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “You must be weary from your journey. Be welcome and make yourselves comfortable.” He clapped Morpheus on the back and guided him into the palace, followed by his retinue. Once the royals were out of sight, the crowd dispersed, the spectacle now ended. Only one man lingered near the bottom corner of the ancient palace stairs, leaning on a stout quarterstaff.

It is here necessary to briefly introduce Robert Gadling. Orphaned at seven, he was one of a good number of parentless children, now adults, who did odd jobs for the businesses of the city, as well as the government- everything from construction to loading and unloading ships’ cargo, from running messages to protection from overzealous loan collectors if need be. On occasion, a few would be hired by the day to work in the palace, mostly on structural repairs and maintenance.

Robert, or Hob as the townsfolk called him, was a natural born protector. He had never been one to back down from a fight, and, as he planned to live through all his fights, he dedicated much of his time to developing his skills. He would often be seen near the docks or the entrance to the market, talking with foreign merchants and their guards, asking them to teach him what they knew of combat in exchange for a day’s labor. His friends constantly warned him that knowledge wouldn’t buy him food or lodging, but he would just laugh.

It was in this fashion he honed his skills over the years and taught them to his fellows. He could disarm anyone in a matter of seconds and have a man twice his size on his back in under a minute (so the children said). He had even studied the blade, something his fellow brawlers stayed away from- too much like the royals and knights, they argued, and rolled their eyes when Hob insisted on learning anyway. No one would think it to look at him, that an average sized and modestly handsome day laborer would have such a knack for survival and zest for life.

Hob’s best friend noted the glazed, entranced look on his face and gave him a teasing shove. “Come on, Hob,” he goaded, “Leave the royals to their tea and cakes, we’ve got work to do.”

“Piss off, Adrian,” Hob replied as he returned the shove with a brief smile. “Not every day you get to see one roll into town. Besides, I’ve never seen Prince Morpheus before. Heard the rumors, but I had no idea he was so- so…” That glazed look returned as he searched for the right word.

“Arrogant?” Adrian supplied. “Sour? Pompous?”

“Beautiful.” Hob’s response was barely a whisper, as if the sentiment was something he wanted to keep secret but couldn't stop it from slipping out.

Adrian rolled his bottle green eyes. This was not the first time Hob had been besotted with someone after a glance, nor was it likely to be the last. The man had so much love in his heart to give, he just also happened to have a bad habit of choosing the worst possible people to bestow that love upon. Adrian could only hope this would be one of his shorter and less depressing devotions. Gods knew Hob had less than a figment of a chance with the Prince.

“Come on, lover boy, Waldren’s waiting for us.”

Adrian wrapped an arm around Hob’s shoulders and turned him away from the palace. Hob went willingly, but not without one last misty-eyed glance over his shoulder, wondering idly what the Prince was doing behind those marble walls.

Chapter 1

According to Morpheus, attending his father’s court and sitting in on council meetings fit the definition of ‘cruel and unusual punishment’. He rarely had anything to contribute to the other nobles’ gossip- not that he wanted to get involved in the first place- and the council advisors just loved passing off his suggestions as their own. His presence amounted to little more than an interesting trinket brought out at opportune moments to curry favor- or, in some cases, to parade in front of potential spouses. It seemed that this summer would see at least a dozen suitors visiting the palace over the course of the five and a half months Morpheus would be at court.

Finally, one sweltering and humid summer day, the Prince reached his tipping point. He was hot and sticky, aggravated and on edge. This breaking point came around mid morning, when he had had enough of listening to the pompous treasurer drone on and on. Without preamble, he rose from his seat and stomped out of the council hall, ignoring the calls of his father and the advisors. Everyone he passed in the halls jumped out of his way, able to feel the ire rolling off him like the heat rising from the cobblestones.

He needed to get out, away from the palace, and burn off some of this aggravation before he did or said something rash.

His first stop was his chambers, where he changed from the fancier attire expected at court to a loose-fitting gray shirt and black cotton breeches tucked into tall riding boots. Already feeling a little better, he made a beeline for the stables. His piebald mare Jessamy was munching happily in her stall, but perked up when she heard Morpheus’ footsteps. The Prince waved off the anxious stable boy who stumbled over the words, “Should I saddle her sir?” in favor of slipping on the bridle himself and swinging up onto her bare back.

With a few clicks of his tongue and a gentle nudge with his heels, Jessamy gamely trotted out of her stall, past the stable boy, and all the way into the courtyard before tossing her head and cantering out the palace’s southern gate, away from the city.

The paths through the forest were wide and well kept. Morpheus followed the main road for about a mile before turning onto a trail that was barely visible, unless one knew where to look. He slowed Jessamy to a walk to better navigate the tall grass and rushes that threatened to overtake the narrow trail. This far into the woods, all the Prince could hear was the birds, the wind, and the puffs of his and Jessamy’s breaths. A relieved sigh rattled out of his lungs and he slumped slightly on her back.

The trail ended at a small lake surrounded by willow trees. The air was cooler here, almost like stepping into another world. Baby shoots of grass were starting to poke through the previous year’s fallen leaves, and twittering birds fluttered between branches. The lake was surrounded by intermittently placed boulders of various sizes, giving it the appearance of a faerie ring, or a window to another world. Some of these boulders were light and bare, others dark with patches of lichen and moss. They all made for excellent perches to sit on and dip one’s feet in the water.

Tiny fish swam about in their schools, the concaves of their nests visible on the lakebed through the crystal clear water. A frog croaked from somewhere within the leafy plants growing stubbornly between the rocks and into the lake.

Morpheus dismounted with another sigh and loosely tied Jessamy’s reins to a branch. The mare shook her head again and began to delicately nibble on the new spring grass. While she enjoyed her snack, Morpheus sat on one of the flatter boulders at the edge of the lake and tugged his boots off, followed by his socks, then his shirt.

The moan he let out when his feet slipped into the cold water was almost indecent. He let his eyes flutter shut and his head tilt back as he dug his toes into the soft silt. After a few quiet minutes, he rolled his breeches up to his knees and waded further into the lake, his arms held out slightly for balance as the sand shifted beneath his feet. He waded deeper and deeper, all the way to mid-thigh, not caring in the least that he would be riding back with soaked trousers. Adding one more item to the list of things his father berated him for wouldn’t make a difference.

Morpheus already felt much better than when he left the palace, but he could still feel his hackles bristling, could still sense the undercurrent of tension and resentment running through his shoulders. The cold water was, apparently, not to be enough to cool him off.

With an almost aggravated sigh (how could it have come to this?), Morpheus loosened the ties at his waist and reached past his undergarments into his breeches. A rumbling groan slipped past his self control as his fingers wrapped around his cock. His other hand shifted the waistband of his breeches so his cock could spring free, a shiver running down his spine at the contact with the humid air. His toes curled into the lakebed as he moved his hand faster, occasionally running his thumb over the slit.

He had worked himself to full hardness and was eagerly chasing his high when a branch snapped in the trees behind him. He jumped, startled, and his head swiveled, looking for the source of the sound. The Prince held still, so still that no new ripples formed in the water around his ankles.

After moments that seemed like years, Morpheus relaxed ever so slightly. It was probably just a deer stepping on a dry twig. His cock throbbed insistently, as if urging him to get back to the task at hand. Morpheus shook his head and turned his focus back to between his legs.

Another rustle in the bushes, this one closer. Morpheus frowned; he had now been twice interrupted, and the agitation was creeping back into his bones. “Who’s there?” he called, hoping he sounded more angry than anxious. He tucked himself back into his trousers and sloshed out of the lake, muscles coiled in anticipation.

Out of the trees stepped a man. Clearly a commoner, if his worn shirt and breeches were anything to go by. Dark hair was pulled into a respectably long tail at the nape of his neck, and a neatly trimmed beard of the same dark hair covered the lower half of his face. Morpheus could see a small patch of yet more dark hair peeking out from the low V of the man’s shirt. Earthy eyes sparkled in the patches of sunlight that made their way through the trees, and they were hazily focused on the bulge in the Prince’s trousers. He had clearly been lost in his own thoughts, an apple raised to his lips as if he were about to take a bite.

Morpheus was still frozen, but for an entirely different reason. For a commoner, this man was exceedingly handsome- had he been born to the nobility, he would have lords and ladies alike falling over themselves to win his favor.

Hob jumped when his mind registered he was standing before the Prince. For one, he thought that he and some of his friends were the only ones who knew about this little lake in the forest, and, two, holy shit that was Prince Morpheus standing in front of him, barefoot and bare chested, a semi creating a small bulge in the front of his breeches.

“Oh fuck!” The apple flew out of his hand- he fumbled to catch it, just barely holding on to the fruit as he sank into a low bow, one leg in front of the other, back leg bent, eyes firmly fixed on the ground, arms out to the sides as he had seen the other nobles do.

Morpheus held up a placating palm as he awkwardly said, “Please rise, there is no need to stand on ceremony,” even though the other couldn’t see the gesture.

Hob rose out of his bow and placed his hands behind his back so Morpheus wouldn’t see his nervous fidgeting. How was it possible this man was a prince, was incredibly gorgeous, AND had a voice that could lure any sailor to their watery grave? “A-apologies, sir, Highness, I- I didn’t think anyone else knew about this place-” He swallowed hard, trying in vain to control his nervous babble. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I can just-”

“It’s quite alright.” Morpheus chuckled in spite of himself- it sounded a little strained to his own ears, but maybe that was because the erection that had fled in his momentary fear was starting to make a comeback at the sight of the beautiful man before him. “I wasn’t aware others knew of this spot either.”

Hob laughed as well, tense and awkward, scratching the back of his head. But oh gods, his smile could light up the darkest of dungeons. Morpheus could feel his heart clench in his chest, already wanting to see that smile again. The Prince asked, “What is your name?”

“Robert,” Hob answered quickly with another little bow. “Robert Gadling. But my friends call me Hob.” He let out a bashfully choked laugh. “I already know who you are, Prince Morpheus. I mean, just about the whole realm knows who you are. Your Highness.”

Morpheus had taken a breath to respond when there was more rustling in the trees behind Hob, much more than what could be created by a single man or animal. The Prince froze again, lowered into a slight crouch. Hob immediately whirled around and positioned himself protectively between Morpheus and the tree line. His apple lay forgotten on the forest floor as he settled into a ready stance, his hands curled into loose fists, ready to strike or protect his torso.

Morpheus had always been independent to the point of being described as a loner, therefore the swirling feeling in his gut at the sight of Hob ready to defend him was completely foreign. It curled in his stomach and slithered between his legs, bringing back that inner heat the cold lake water had once absorbed. And if Hob didn’t see him glancing at the curve of his ass every few seconds… Well, that was between Morpheus and the trees.

The trees and grasses rustled again to reveal two men in dark gray rags, the lower halves of their faces covered with another piece of fabric. Dirt smudged the visible skin around their eyes. They were each carrying a wicked looking dagger, the blades sharp even if the handles were dotted with rust.

Hob immediately knew these were bandits- highwaymen that lurked in the trees and waited for the opportune moment to pounce. And they had just found quite the prize.

Jessamy snorted and stomped her feet, sensing the imminent danger. The bandits inched closer, step by step, knives held threateningly aloft. Hob glared at them, refusing to back down, hoping they would develop some sense and realize that whatever they had planned was not a good idea. One of them chuckled in eager anticipation.

“Turn around,” Hob ground out softly, eyes darting between the two, “and I won’t have to bash your heads in.” The bandits exchanged a momentary glance, as if debating the merit of Hob’s words. Apparently, they reached the decision that they had none, because they continued to advance, knives gleaming and ready to cut into flesh.

Morpheus crept back towards the lake, inching toward Jessamy, heart pounding in his throat. He had never encountered bandits before; the closest he had ever come to someone who had broken the law was on formal inspections of rehabilitation facilities where the offenders had been cleaned up and supervised by wardens. Now, he didn’t have wardens or his retinue or even his hunting knife- his only protection from these two bandits was another commoner who could just as easily decide Morpheus was worth the trouble of kidnapping, or killing, or both.

“Last warning,” Hob growled, the bandits now within striking distance.

The one on the right turned to his companion: “Get him.”

Hob swore then yelled to Morpheus, “Go! Leave!” as the first bandit came at him with the knife aloft, intending to bring it down into Hob’s shoulder, or wherever he could reach. He sidestepped the blow and redirected the bandit’s momentum so that he went stumbling towards the water.

The second bandit charged forward, knife point aimed at Hob’s chest. He grabbed the bandit’s wrist with enough force to make him drop the knife and drove his knee into the bandit’s side. The attacker grunted and doubled over, using the forward momentum to drive his shoulder into Hob’s stomach.

It was a lucky shot that knocked the wind out of him. Hob shoved the bandit away from him, hoping to buy a moment to catch his breath.

The first bandit had recovered his footing and rushed in from behind Hob, wrapping wiry arms around a golden throat. Hob’s eyes went wide as his breath was cut off, the bandit only squeezing harder as he struggled. The two assailants coordinated their next move with eye contact alone, one holding Hob by the throat while the other stepped into striking distance and threw a sloppy but strong punch at Hob’s face.

The bandit’s knuckles hit him square on the cheekbone. Hob cried out as his head snapped to the side. The man’s other fist came up and landed a punch across his mouth, hard enough to make his nose bleed and teeth rattle and split his bottom lip open.

“Fuck-” The swear was strained and came out with blood and spit. His vision starting to blacken around the edges, Hob reared his arm up and drove his elbow into the soft midsection at his back. Instantly, his windpipe was free as arms released him and the bandit doubled over in pain. Hob took several gasping breaths as he turned to the bandit who had been choking him and drove his fist into his temple, all the force and energy going down, hard enough to knock him out.

Hob turned his attention to the remaining bandit. The scrawny man was in a ready stance, hands curled into loose fists held up by his face, but clearly hesitant after watching his partner literally get beaten into the ground. Hob grinned, feral and almost cocky as he mimicked the man’s stance- on a closer look, he was barely a man, just an older boy with his first whiskers. Hob didn’t want to hurt the kid, but he may not have a choice.

With unexpected ferocity, the boy lunged closer, fist ready to fly. Hob dodged one punch, then another, the third glancing off his shoulder- poor lad was already panting for breath, sparking just a hint of pity.

“Come on, lad,” he tried reasoning, “just walk away.”

The young man’s only response was a desperate yell as he charged Hob, going for a grapple. Hob easily deflected him with a step and a twist, sending the bandit falling hard on his back. Hob settled into his stance, and with a well-aimed kick to his temple, he too was dealt with.

Silence suddenly rang in the clearing, broken only by Hob’s slightly panting breaths. His hands were still clenched into ready fists at his sides.

Morpheus had sprinted a quarter of the way around the lake to where he had tethered Jessamy. He had been ready to bolt at Hob’s word, now he soothed the mare with soft words and gentle caresses. It was like he was watching the whole thing through hazy glass, observing and present but removed, just left of in tune with the world. His chest felt tight, his hands shook uncontrollably as he tried to process all that had happened in a few short moments.

Hob moved out of his combative stance to crouch beside one of their would-be assailants. Morpheus quickly retied Jessamy to the branch and walked over to Hob, feeling extremely awkward and somewhat out of his depth. What did one say to the handsome stranger who had undoubtedly saved him from being abducted, if not worse? ‘Thank you’ did not seem to be anywhere near enough, far less than what Hob was owed for his deed. And yet, the words ‘thank you’ seemed to stick in his throat, refusing to come out.

He stood uncomfortably over Hob, who was pawing through the bandits’ clothes, hoping to find some clue as to their motives, and whether they went beyond simple highway robbery. The Prince had taken a fortifying breath to thank his protector when Hob ground out a curse in another language he had learned from a merchant. In his hand was a worn letter, folded and held together with a black seal. A sigil of stars and other symbols of magick was pressed into the wax.

It was, without a doubt, the seal of Roderick Burgess, King of Fawney Rigg.

“You might want to see this, Highness.” Hob rose to his feet and handed Morpheus the letter. His free hand swiped at his split lip and bloody nose- at least it wasn’t broken, again. He could feel the flesh around his cheekbone swelling painfully. Hob caught the Prince’s sympathetic flinch, small as it was, as he took the paper. Icy eyes quickly scanned its contents, dark brows furrowing closer together the more he read.

“I must return to the palace.” The words tumbled out of him as he refolded the letter and stuffed it in the waistband of his breeches. Moving quickly, Morpheus tugged his shirt back over his head and boots onto his feet as he continued, “My father needs to be made aware of what happened. Burgess sending armed men across our border with orders to watch and intercept me is no idle threat.”

He unhitched Jessamy and used a fallen log as a mounting block, swinging a lithe leg over her back and expertly gathering the reins. He looked down at Hob as he wheeled her around, holding himself with the distant majesty of a monarch despite his disheveled state. Hob could only stare up in awe, a worshiper at the foot of his god. Dappled beams of sunlight illuminated the Prince like a halo, and Hob was sure in that moment the Prince was indeed fae touched as the rumors went, if not outright divine in his own right.

“I think it is no exaggeration to say you saved my life,” Morpheus proclaimed, even if the forest and the man before him were the only ones to hear the royal edict. “I am in your debt, Robert Gadling. And I will settle that debt once this threat to the Dreaming is resolved.”

Hob bowed at his words, low and slow and reverent. A few globs of blood dribbled out of his nose and onto the grass. As he rose, he said, “Then at least let me escort you out of the forest and to the main road. I doubt there are any more of these men lurking around, Highness, but I would feel better seeing you to safety.” The last part was true, but Hob figured he probably shouldn’t mention the other reason for his offer: Prince Morpheus had utterly enchanted him, and this was likely to be the last time he’d see the man up close, let alone speak to him one to one, and he wasn’t ready for it to be over.

Pale, elegant fingers twitched briefly around the reins as Morpheus considered his words. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for the right response. Finally, he settled on, “I would be glad of your company. Let us go.”

He clicked his tongue to get Jessamy moving at a walk, Hob keeping pace beside her. They were silent as they picked their way back to the main forest road, but Hob was on high alert. His eyes darted back and forth, fists clenching and releasing in time with his steps. It was relatively easy to ignore the stickiness of drying blood around his mouth and chin when he was so focused on looking for signs of danger. Thankfully, the trip passed without incident. Morpheus pulled Jessamy to a halt once they were inside the city gates.

“My thanks again, Robert Gadling.” Jessamy pawed at the ground as Morpheus spoke, eager to be back in the safety of her stall. “I do not like leaving my debts unpaid.” The unspoken request for Hob to name his price hung in the air like a phantom. Hob merely gave the Prince a gentle smile and bowed again, still formal but relaxed and easy.

“This time spent with you is payment enough, Highness.” He paused and bit his lip, plucking up his courage with a slight wince of pain. “May I… Could I call on you? If my day’s work brings me to the palace.”

Morpheus turned the request over in his mind long enough for Jessamy to grow impatient. He soothed her with a few gentle pats on her neck. “You may,” he finally replied. “As long as my duties permit, I will be glad to receive you.” Morpheus had already turned his horse and urged her into a trot before Hob could say a proper farewell. The gentle goodbye hung unspoken on his lips. Finally, he sighed and kicked a stray pebble as he made his way to the boarding house he called home for a bath and some rest.

#the sandman #dreamling #centennial husbands big bang

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astromechs · 3 months

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a slightly late (but still within february, at least in my timezone, so it still counts!) fill for fluffbruary prompt 25: twilight | sweat; cassian is so incredibly stupid in this fic and i enjoyed writing every minute of it ❤️ also on ao3!

In sum: Plaorm, a jungle planet at the edge of the Kamdon system, is not a candidate for a new base.

That had been obvious from the moment they’d landed here nearly a standard week ago, when sheer luck, more than anything else, had just barely allowed Cassian to maneuver the ship away from crashing into a tree. While a near-constant cover of clouds would make it difficult to track anything, providing an admittedly significant advantage, it’s also not feasible to work with in practice; little visibility, at best, means no one can reliably take off or land, and those aren’t conditions under which to operate anything. More often than not, those clouds also bring heavy rain for days at a time, which is only a further complication.

All of this could be worked around — if not for the fact that the Empire had gotten there first.

Between the thick cover of clouds and jungle, no scanner could’ve picked up a settlement or life signs, but that’d been no excuse for his guard being down, for not hearing steps through brush until it had nearly been too late. Pain from his back, aggravated by the humidity, hadn’t been an excuse, either; he should’ve had his blaster aimed and ready, and the Imperial should’ve been dead before he’d even turned around. It should’ve never gotten to the point of actual blaster bolts in their direction, but it had, and as a result, Cassian had stepped in, shoving Jyn out of the line of fire before he’d been able to manage three decent shots.

That had happened more than half a day ago, and Jyn hasn’t spoken to him since.

He hasn’t seen her, either; even in the small space of the U-wing they had flown here in, she’s managed to keep her distance, to keep herself well-hidden. Considering that she has particular skill in disappearing when she doesn’t want to be found, that shouldn’t surprise him — and it doesn’t. It makes the oppressive air of the planet as a whole feel even more oppressive on his lungs, certainly, ties his chest in knots and has him so tense that any given muscle might snap, that his teeth might crack from how hard they’re grinding together, but surprise him? No.

By this point, Jyn’s behavior isn’t hard for him to predict, even when he can’t read the intent behind it.

Outside the viewport, through a still-constant curtain of rain (if their tracking is correct, it won’t clear enough for them to leave the planet for another two days), light is beginning to fade; night will fall soon. It won’t be long before he’ll have to push himself up out of the pilot’s seat and check that the ship’s systems, which have mostly been switched off for the day to preserve energy, will be operational while at least one of them sleeps.

Admittedly, he’s prolonging that inevitability, for a few reasons — the most obvious being that the combination of the humidity that’s seeped in from outside and the durasteel of the chair he’s been in for hours have been hell on his back, and he knows that any movement will aggravate it. But he knows what’s really keeping him here: if Jyn is insistent on this silent standoff, he’s not going to be the one to blink first, even if just by happening to encroach on her hiding space while moving around the ship, entirely without meaning to.

No, she can come to him when she’s ready for an actual conversation.

Folding his arms across his chest, he huffs out a sigh; it’s barely audible over the sound of rain clanking on durasteel above.

It’s a sound so loud, in fact, that he nearly misses the footsteps coming in from somewhere behind him.

Caught off guard for the second time in one day, Cassian nearly falls backward in his chair.

He manages to keep himself upright, though, turning slowly, breathing slowly, even as his heart jumps into his throat and won’t right itself again. Even as the tension that’s filled the space around him, in him, is pulled so taut that he might actually fracture. As it has since the moment they’d landed here, sweat beads on his forehead, drips down the side of his cheek. The air on this planet has never felt more oppressive to breathe than it does right now; not even trying to make it through the jungle at the height of the day’s heat, with all the humidity and the exertion of having to shove underbrush with every step, can compare.

Jyn, for her part, appears almost completely unaffected as her steps come to a pause a small distance away. Strands of hair are sticking to her forehead, but otherwise, he’d never know just by looking at her that she’s existing in the same conditions as he is. Her face is stone, inscrutable, and her jaw is set.

The gaze that meets his is cold; the voice that aims one word in his direction is even colder.

“Why?”

In the immediate aftermath of that one word, the first that has passed between them in well more than half a day, something in him, reflexive, snaps. His eyes narrow, a mirror, an equivalent exchange; his voice is the tip of a vibroblade. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

They both fight with the necessary weapons in their respective arsenals. That’s how they’re still alive.

Her jaw twitches, then; her mouth curls into something dangerous. His eyes don’t leave her face, but if he had to predict, at least one of her hands is curling into a fist, too. At least until —

“I could handle that.” Her arms cross over her chest as she takes another step forward, closer. “I had it handled.” He notes that her fingers lay flat; no need for fists when her words are doing enough. “I don’t need that from you.”

Cassian scoffs. “He was shooting —”

“Which I knew!” Her voice, raised for the first time, bounces off the walls of the ship, echoing to the point of being piercing. “Not the first fucking time I’ve ever been shot at.”

“So, what?” It’s then, finally, that he stands. He doesn’t take his time with the motion — and the agony that he’d been asking for with his carelessness sears down his spine — but he doesn’t care about that. His eyes, and the entirety of his attention, are locked on Jyn; she doesn’t blink as she’s locked on him, in turn, watching him step closer. The toes of his boots nearly bump into hers. “If someone’s shooting, I’m not supposed to cover you?”

What a stupid question, he thinks, folding his arms to match her, to even have to fucking ask. Ridiculous. This whole argument is ridiculous, and she’s the one who’s made it that way. He shakes his head, breathing out a quiet laugh with no humor.

Her fire had already been burning, noticeable and steady, but that seems to spark it to another level; with one more step, she practically collides into him, grabbing him by the shirt to force him to bend as she rises on her toes, until their faces are centimeters apart.

“I don’t need you to throw yourself in front of a blaster bolt for me when I’m more than capable of getting myself out of the fucking way!” There’s no distance between them, but she’s still on the verge of shouting. “Why would you do that?”

Without thinking, without breaking his gaze, he matches the volume. “Because I love you!”

Only then, only after the words explode out of him, and hang in the air between them, can Cassian truly absorb what, exactly, he’s just said. As if by recoil from a sniper rifle, he draws back, then freezes, breath caught halfway to inhale, heart firmly in his throat.

The last echoes of their voices reverberate, and then fade. Aside from the residual ringing in his ears, all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart as he drops his eyes to the floor.

It’s not as if he’s never orbited around the thought before; it’s not as if the thought hasn’t been as constant as the rain still falling outside, as constant as breathing. It’s hit him like a blow to the chest, knocking the wind out of him, every time she’s caught his eye across a room and allowed him to see a smile, soft and small and oh so achingly beautiful, tug on her mouth. With every brush of hands, of lips, he’s felt it, intrinsically, a lightness, an ache, and a terror all at once.

But it’s not a thought he’d planned to give voice to — and certainly not like this.

Whatever tentative thing that’s formed between them will only wilt now, and it’s all his fault; he’s pushed it, pushed her, too hard.

Nothing can be unsaid, but the least he can do is give her the grace of being the first to back away, of telling her, even if he can only manage just barely above a mutter, “Forget it.”

Somehow, though, he can’t bring his own feet to move. Out of all the things he’s done, this has be to be one of the worst, on account of its pure selfishness.

His head hangs, heavy, but —

Gentle fingers graze his cheek, and a thumb tips up his chin. In spite of himself, his shaking breaths ease, and his heart settles back to where it’s supposed to be. Under Jyn’s gravity, he’s back on his axis.

“No.” Her voice is as achingly soft as her touch, and the last of any resolve to try to step away crumbles; his eyes flick back up, searching her face. The hard lines and cold fury from just minutes before have completely vanished, leaving only the smile that he knows (that he loves), the light that’s steadily fading outside casting it in a glow that makes it something new.

He loses his breath.

When she kisses him with the same certainty that’s in everything she does, she gives it back to him.

It’s an answer, unequivocal, to an unspoken question that’d still lingered even as he’d tried to retract it, and far more than he’d ever deserve to have.

And yet — when their lungs are burning and they’re forced to break, she murmurs against his lips, “I love you, too.”

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fluffbruary #cassian andor #jyn erso #* fic

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skyloftian-nutcase · 7 months

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@gryphonlover, here you go friend <3

(AO3 link)

Fluffvember prompt - "Us against the world," comforting a loved one

Four was… not in a good mood.

He hadn’t quite parsed out what the issue was. All he knew was that Wind was speaking too loudly, Sky was being too attentive, Warriors was teasing Legend too much, Legend was getting too irritated about it, Twilight was spending too much time with Wild, Wild was being too somber, Hyrule and Time were gone too long—

Clearly, Four just wasn’t in a good mood.

Sighing, the smith walked away from the camp, grabbing his sword as protection and a means to sort this out. When he was far enough away, he gripped the hilt of the blade firmly, eyes squeezed shut as he frowned.

Okay. I need to figure out what’s wrong before I snap at someone.

Drawing the blade, he felt the magic trickle through his arm and into his mind and heart, chiseling away with searing heat until he was ripped apart into four pieces. The transition was never pleasant, but the end result was hopefully helpful.

Red immediately burst into tears.

“What the hell?” Blue asked, startled and irritated. “Could you put up a sign or something before you just explode like that?”

“Okay, okay, what is wrong with us?” Green asked, waving his hands. “Red, why are you crying?”

“Our friend almost died!” Red hiccupped, rubbing his face in an attempt to calm down.

Vio blinked. “Is that what this is about?”

“Of course it is, genius,” Blue fired back. “You think we could get over it in a day just because he got better? He’s still suffering from it.”

“A-at least we made peace with the Champion,” Red added, his stream of tears starting to slow. “B-but… it’s… it’s still a lot…”

Green sighed, looking away. “Yeah… I guess it is.”

“So now what?” Blue huffed. “We duke it out until we’re too tired to be upset?”

“Or we could talk about it,” Red offered feebly.

“We just did!” Blue argued, throwing his hands in the air.

“Emotions aren’t just… that straightforward and you know it,” Vio explained, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t be pissed if that were the case.”

“That’s literally how the magic makes me,” Blue snapped. “I’m always pissed.”

Green rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not.”

His blue reflection turned to him, face flushed, but the fight blew out of him with a sigh. “I’m just frustrated, okay? Red’s right – that was a lot. And like… there’s still so much to process.”

“Did we do the right thing with Champion?” Vio asked. “Confronting him the way we did?”

“He apologized,” Red reasoned. “Was that not enough? He seemed better.”

“What about Rancher?” Green asked quietly. “Is he really okay?”

“He is,” Vio said firmly. “He is and we know it. He might just heal slowly.”

“That’ll make me sad to see,” Red mumbled.

“It’ll be aggravating to see,” Blue clarified. “He’s a Hero, it isn’t fair to him to be down like this. I want to beat the crap out of that Shadow.”

“The Shadow’s dead.”

“Is he thought? You think he can be defeated that easily?”

“We don’t know anything!”

“What about that dark magic for his transformation? You think that made him more vulnerable? We should talk to him about it!”

“He’s still recovering, it’s too soon for that!”

“But I’m worried!”

Blue growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is this helping or just making things worse?”

“At least we’re getting it out in the open,” Green reasoned with a shrug. “That has to count for something.”

Red watched all of them before hugging himself. “I think… I think no matter what, the important thing is that everyone is better than they were. That has to count for something. We should hold on to that.”

Vio smiled at his red reflection. “He’s right. We’re not going to be able to address everything all at once, and that’s okay. We need to take this one issue at a time. We’ve already worked on mending our relationship with the Hero of the Wilds. That’s a good enough start for me.”

“But I still feel upset,” Blue resisted a little tiredly.

“Maybe y’all just need a hug.”

The four aspects of the Hero jumped, startled, and whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice. Twilight stood in a clearing, eyes a little wider than they should be but smiling reassuringly nonetheless.

“When did you—” Green asked, trying to slow his racing heart.

“Sky had mentioned you’d left camp. I beat Wars here,” Twilight explained lightly. “I’m glad Champion warned me about your ability or I’d be really confused.”

Blue let out a disappointed scoff. “That little snitch.”

“It’s pretty cool, right?” Red asked excitedly.

Twilight chuckled. “Yeah. It is.”

There was a pregnant pause after this, everyone waiting for some sort of way to avoid the suggestion Twilight had made, and the rancher pressed onward. Holding out his arms welcomingly, he tipped his head to the side. “Well?”

The four glanced at each other, red eyes eager, blue defensive, purple curious, and green resolute. Then they gripped their swords in unison, slowly fading back into each other, and Four took a steadying breath as the world pieced itself back into a single image. He felt dizzy for a moment before blinking and looking back at Twilight, who was still waiting, and damn it all if everything he hadn’t just hashed out welled in his heart and soul and begged for comfort nonetheless.

Biting his lip, he slowly made his way to his friend, sinking into the embrace. Twilight held him so tightly, almost tight enough to make breathing hard, but he was warm and there and alive and by the goddesses if that wasn’t reassuring and soothing, Four didn’t know what was.

He was slightly disappointed in himself that he couldn’t handle this alone. Usually the Four Sword helped him hash out these issues in a healthy manner.

But, he supposed as he felt a few trace tears fall, sometimes a hug was just what someone needed.

#writing #fluffvember #lu four #lu twilight #linkeduniverse #linked universe #talking about one's feelings is good #but I find sometimes that doesn't make the feelings any better - it just acknowledges them #so Twi is helping Four release them too <3 #because I love hugs lol

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1wishand1thought · 1 year

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MY SNEAKY LITTLE FOX| PART 2

Kaz Brekker x Fem. Y/N

Here you have part 1, in case you haven't read it yet: part 1

Summary: Kaz struggles to keep y/n out of his mind, her absence making him worried about the possibility of losing his most secret investment. The uncertainty of her presence in Ketterdam forces him to get into deep waters, using his knowledge to get to where she lives, only to find himself lost in the sound of her voice.

Warnings: NSFW/ Nudity descriptions, naughty vocabulary(is that even the right word? I only see this as poetic writing lmao, OKAY SORRY. let's continue).

A/N: OH SAINTS THIS ONE WAS A WHOLE CHALLENGE GUYS. I had a clear path to write this, and then a million Kruge stepped in my way avoiding me to keep going. Seriously, I lost motivation like Jesper lost money when betting. Anyway I hope you like it, it's a bit longer than the first one, I'll put the word count later. LOVE YOU, TKYSM FOR 114 NOTES IN PART 1🫶🏻🥹

Wordcount: 3417.

A week had passed since the incident. A whole damn week where her inner struggles to not think of him just got worse.

The night washed over the city, only with the twilight and the stars flickers enlightening the dark and empty streets of the city. She was in her house now, an underground place in Ketterdam.

Y/n paced back and forth as if she was trying to solve a puzzle to finally ease her thoughts, but instead, failed every time. Her mind kept replaying his voice, as she had memorized every detail, treating it like a meticulous plan: no flaws or loose ends. All she wanted was to forget him, to comply with the words that left his mouth like a hundred bullets:

"You better keep your mouth shut and never bring this up in a conversation ever again, y/n... Or else you'll regret it for the rest of your days," he had warned her back then, as he covered his bare hands with a pair of leathery gloves.

She regretted everything about that night; the way his neck seemed so tight, as if he was a disguised thief, holding back a painful scream. She remembered how the vein on the side of his forehead pumped fiercely as if it was trying to break free from his face. Anger rose inside her.

Why did he let her watch?

Was that a sort of "taunting you because I know all your secrets" improvised joke? Because yes, she felt the heat and arousal bubbling inside her when he fidgeted with his shaft that night. She even felt as if she was the damn cock in his hands.

But did he know all her secrets? Did he know that she hadn't reached the climax in years? Perhaps he even knew where she lived. It aggravated her that he let her see him in such a vulnerable state, so intime, so... appealing.

A tattoo was carved into her frightened mind. Did he do it to taunt her, then? Does he know all about her?

She discarded every suggestion. The only personal information she had divulged to Kaz was her name and skills. She had also warned him to keep her recruitment a secret, and maybe she had even mentioned how she preferred to keep to herself rather than socialize with the people of Ketterdam. So all her personal information was deeply buried in her mind.

What she had yet to realize was that Kaz had her entire birth chart stored in a well-guarded section of his restless brain. He always found a way to know everything, as he couldn't bear not knowing it all.

He somehow, and with the help of his witty brain, managed to get her full name and the address to her place. He had also discovered details about her lineage and parents, who were long gone either to hell or with the saints. It wasn't much, but considering the time it took him to obtain such valuable information, it was certainly something.

Y/n hadn't even sneaked near the Barrel to eavesdrop from outside Kaz's office. Her eyes were glued to the stonewall in front of her now, and the cold moonlight brought back memories of Kaz's figure. His image haunted her like a nightmare, constantly invading her thoughts for the past seven days.

She needed to let go, but she was certain she couldn't do it. She hissed in frustration, her back landing on the bed behind her. The cold bedspread sent shivers through her warm body. She was only wearing her underclothes, as she was alone in her home.

The place had no walls dividing the spaces except for the bathtub and toilet in the corner, where no natural light reflected on the porcelain washbasin or bath other than the warm light of the candles she had spread there.

Her gaze drifted back to the long, narrow window that looked out onto the bustling street above. In the morning and through the murky glass, she could make out the feet of pedestrians as they hurried past. It was a small connection to the outside world that faded at night. No pedestrians were outside now, mostly because all the nearby buildings were full of early workers and showmen waiting for the early hours to head back to their workspaces.

A few candles illuminated the dining room placed a few steps away from the kitchen, the warm light spread only to the border of her bed and collided with the cold tone of the moon. Still, the kitchen was dark, as the candlelight reflected on the only tall furniture in the kitchen. The stone step separating the table from her bedroom space prevented her from having a clear view of the entrance.

Back at the club, Kaz's stress had accumulated in the last few days and had now reached its peak. He fidgeted with the crow head holder of his cane as he sat in his office, his eyes fixated on the wall, his breath coming out in short, heavy gasps. His free hand tightly gripped the edge of his desk, causing his knuckles to turn white beneath the fabric.

To his right, a half-empty bottle of brandy sat on his desk, and untouched papers and bills piled up in a messy tower before him. He couldn't focus on them, not with her image haunting his thoughts.

《Where are you?》 he wondered as his mind drifted back to her face. He could recall the subtle movements of her thighs, the panic in her blushed cheeks as she tried not to get caught. It was all too appealing.

It was for the best that he cut the emotional ties with her. He had a club to run, money to make, and he couldn't afford any distractions. But he needed her for the job. He needed her unique set of skills. The way she could vanish into the shadows of Ketterdam like Inej once did. The only difference between them being a few distinguishable features.

He considered going to check if she was there, fearing that she might have left Ketterdam after their last encounter. He needed to be certain of her presence, otherwise, he would have to find someone else to do her job, which he didn't want to do.

As time passed, his anxiety grew, and he was unable to shake the memories of her from his mind. His thoughts were in turmoil, and he knew he needed to find a way to focus before it was too late. It shouldn't have been difficult to concentrate, given that he didn't like her.

Kaz didn't even realize when he left his office, unconsciously stepping out and leaving his cane on his desk. He didn't scold Jesper for flirting with Wylan at the bar when he was supposed to be working. Of course, the couple wondered where their boss was going, but neither of them dared to ask him about it. He seemed lost in thought as his leg wobbled a bit from the imbalance. His frown was deeper than usual, and one of his gloved hands was clenched into a fist at his side.

Fortunately, her place was not too far from the club, but it was far enough that, as if by a miracle, her slightly warm body became warmer, her cheeks flushed, and eventually, after a few minutes, she found herself breathing heavily. Her hands moved in time with her thoughts, and the images of Kaz, so vivid in her mind, only served to fuel her fire. She had done this a few times in the last week to try to free her mind of the torture his image spur her to do, at the same time that she put all her efforts to release the moan fighting to come out. This time felt different, as if her body knew something she didn't.

Unbeknownst to her, Kaz was nearby, clenching his teeth so tightly that it made his jaw hurt. It made him wonder if it was due to her absence from work, or the way she made him feel that produced this sort of reactive action.

He knew a knock on the door would be odd, considering that she told him she was not a very social person, hence didn't have any friends.

So, he decided to use his brain. He made sure to see if there was any visible light reflecting into the streets from the visible lower window almost glued to the floor. No light was visible. Good.

He knew she lived unseen in Ketterdam.

Like a fox hiding from the danger, without knowing the danger it held inside. He new it though, probably why he called her that.

He would just leave an envelope with the tasks he had for her and then he would leave. If she read it, she would show up in his office. If not, then she had made her choice very clear.

His lockpicking skills gave him easy access to her place. He tried to keep his limp as light as possible so as not to make his presence obvious. He opened the door with little noise, which was surprising considering it was a wooden door. However, the floor was made of pure stone.

He noticed the dark, small kitchen and immediately took in the warm light of the candles illuminating the rest of the space.

He thought she might have left the candles on, so he didn't take a wider glimpse of the room. He left the envelope on the dark counter and right after reaching for the door handle, he heard it.

His feet locked to the floor, and his chest stopped. Kaz turned his head to the side to take in the sound more clearly. It was as if someone was having a nightmare, with uneven but barely audible breaths. The table and chairs of the tiny dining room obstructed his view, preventing him from seeing the full scene.

His feet moved as a reflex, after silently closing the door before him, he took some cautious and slow steps forward. And then, when he got a clear view, a flame that he feared had been extinguished was ignited from the ashes, burning fiercely inside him. Evaporating all his senses of destruction and vengeance, and replacing them with a gutting desire.

He took in the scene, his hands were sweaty, his mouth slightly opened, and his chest heaving.

Whimpers.

He froze, not making a sound; like a sculpture, he didn't move a muscle. He just stood there, transfixed by the sight before him, his eyes locked on it.

On her.

She was caressing herself, one hand occupied with her breasts, fidgeting with her nipples, and the other under her panties. Her eyes were closed, portraying pain and torture, but deep inside her arousal increased with every touch.

She unlocked a part of her mind that allowed her to visualize Kaz in front of her. As she seemed to have found her only inspiration that may allow her to finally cum. Something she had avoided the last week.

She tried before touching herself thinking of something else, making up someone else’s face in her mind, failing relentlessly every time.

Now, in her mind, a bulge was evident in Kaz's usual black pants, his hands bare, and his cheeks flushed. The image made her wince from pleasure. Her lower lip was tugged between her teeth. Each brush of her hand made her body quake.

A few seconds later she opened her eyes, and she swore she saw her boss's face.

There, in the darkness.

He was staring at her intently, and for a moment, she stopped, bewildered. Her red cheeks acted like fire in her body, burning her entirely with embarrassment and excitement.

《Why are you stopping? I didn't stop when you caught me jerking off》 He thought. His brain took such action as offensive, breaking the pleasant view.

"Don't," the shadow spoke, panting, desperate, and begging almost.

Kaz Brekker wasn't the type of man who begged, not even when he was staring death itself in the face. But now his mind betrayed him, his words being a reflex to his needs.

His dark figure leaned closer to the bed, finally revealing his pale temple. Y/n's heart hammered in her chest as if it was trying to escape like a frightened child. "Don't... don't stop, y/n," There it was again, his voice roaring. His thoughts now sprinting out of an opened cage that would be too hard to lock again given the view. His hoarse and needy voice echoed along her soft gasps.

It took a few seconds for her to realize it wasn't a trick, it wasn't a hologram, something impossible to touch. Kaz Brekker was in front of her, his jaw looked tight, his expression sharp like a blade cutting trough her; his gaze taking in every inch of her skin.

He was like a starved animal waiting to finally get its prey after several failed attempts. He watched every movement, enjoying what he had craved several times where only his imagination was able to put it to work. Now, being real and having her in flesh and bones before him, he didn't want her to stop, nor would he allow it.

It felt as if the candles turned into a hundred torches. The heat around them was both pleasing and hurtful. He wanted to touch her, but somehow his hands were blocked to each side of his body. Loose strands of hair fell over his eyes, but it didn't act as a distraction, his focus being only on her figure. The drip of the several candles blended with the sound of her wet pussy.

His sharp blue eyes found their way to hers, an invisible string forcing to look each other, making it impossible for any of them to break eye contact.

Kaz made his way in front of the bed and sat in the nearby wooden chair. His Adam's apple wobbled as he swallowed hard. The bulge in his pants was evident now, just as y/n had imagined minutes ago.

"What...," her voice cracked, making it impossible for her greedy self to form a full sentence as she was overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. He cut her off sharply, in a demanding tone.

"Shush," he growled, the usual gelid expression covering his face entirely. He was fighting the urge to take his glove off and replace her own hands with his.

Oh, he wanted to squeeze those tits and lick her nipples so badly.

However, his hands still wouldn't move. He felt like a prisoner in his own body, struggling to break free. The uncertainty of how his body would react when he touched her still lingered in his mind.

"Just keep doing it," he demanded, his eyes moving from her face to between her legs, as to try to send her an indirect message of what to do next.

She pushed her underwear aside, mostly due to the desperation taking over her entire body, and for the hint she caught in his eyes. Her wet cunt being visible now.

Y/n closed her eyes, enjoying how she felt when she fingered herself, just as he enjoyed watching her doing so. Her mouth gaped as the shivers she felt took her higher with every touch, the orgasm closer with every passing second.

"Open your eyes," Kaz urged, his voice growing deeper and more desperate. He felt his dick pumping, trying to break free and holding back the urge to cum right then beneath the black fabric.

An inner fight with his mind allowed him to move again a few moments later. A pair of eager hands unbuttoned his pants, showing his greedy bulge over his black boxers.

Y/n complied with his orders and opened her eyes, only to catch him with his gloved hands now full of his cock, just like the other night, adding the fact that she was also with her hands occupied doing the same to herself.

He didn't even bother in taking his gloves off; he just needed to stroke it.

It went on for a few more minutes, with him watching her thrust her fingers in and out of her pussy faster, and she watched him stroking his dick. Both of them, with their arousals and voices, provided the only sound that bounced off every wall, echoing in their ears and carving like an unforgettable memory inside their minds.

With their eyes locked onto each other, their hands fully occupied, and a layer of sweat on their faces under the warm light of the candles, they finally came. Kaz was the first one, and he was more silent this time given all he wanted to hear was her, as he'd imagined: her voice breaking, her legs squirting, her chest going up and down as if she had just run a marathon throughout all of Kerch. He wanted to hear her say his name.

Y/n came a few seconds later, her voice breaking, the sound louder than ever between the walls, she finally gave in, letting the moan out. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and the next words would carve in the deepest part of Kaz's mind, like a catchy song that only he could give himself the pleasure of repeating. "Fuck— Kaz!" She yelled, not so loud but enough to make Dirtyhands bite his lower lip.

He compared what he had imagined to the view before him, they were quite alike, except for the lack of Kaz's touch on her skin.

It took a few moments for Y/n to ease her breathing. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling. Embarrassment washed over her as she didn't dare to look at the man in front of her.

His lips twisted and contorted into a crooked grin, revealing his satisfaction with what he had just seen. His usual dark eyes betrayed little emotion, but deep down he was afraid to accept the eagerness that burned within him. He wanted her and hoped to make her his right then and there, but the option of him panicking when touching her frightened his mind. It aggravated him: to have her in his gaze and not be able to feel her skin.

Hidden inside Kaz's heart, the flame was still on. He longed for the day when he would finally take his naked hands and feel how wet she was, with no intrusive thoughts in their way.

He took his right glove—now covered in cum– off, whilst still glaring at her body on the bed.

"I need your presence for the job," he muttered, ignoring the fact she was still naked, panting slightly, and her eyes lost in her thoughts.

She wasn't mad about him changing the topic. She hadn't yet found the words to say something anyways.

His normal façade cut sharp like a knife. He knew it was for the best. He tried to convince himself that there would not be a third occasion, given that, if he stood any longer, he would not cum over his gloves but on her stomach. And his hands would not be holding his cock but her hips, keeping her still in the bed.

"If you still want to work for me, I'll be expecting you tomorrow night at the usual time," he said, tilting his head toward her direction as he turned around to leave, taking her utter silence as a reply.

On the other hand, Kaz didn't want to say what echoed in his mind. An uncontrollable pull was trying to stop him from leaving, encouraging him to just give in to her. To finally betray his mind and let something other than revenge and money in his heavy heart, allowing his hands to touch someone else's skin.

He wanted to feel hers under his fingertips, to taste her breath in his mouth. Something that through the passing of months he never accepted until now. But words failed him as they often did, forcing him to repeat the same romantic situation he had with Inej years ago.

So, with the clicking sound of the door closing behind him, they gave an end to their interaction, which would allegedly be the last one, and both let out a long sigh of relief.

Putting an end to his torture of not being brave enough to touch her, and to her torment of not being able to feel his touch.

HII!! So, as I wrote at the beginning, writing this was a love-hate relationship considering my sudden motivation loss. I was so motivated writing this and then BANG, my mind goes blank as fast as Kaz's heart when he sees Inej haha.

Anyway, I really, reaaally hope you like it and if you don't then it's okay we can pretend that this doesn't exists 🫶🏻🤣

Tag list ( the lovely users that asked for a part two):

@outlawqueen17 @bunneex

@tiana76 @freddycarterswife

#kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker oneshot #kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker #six of crows #six of crows one shot

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