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xbellaxcarolinax · 10 months

Note

Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!

Sorry

MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣

Word Count: 2k+

NSFW below the cut.

Part 2

...

Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.

You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete.

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.

The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.

“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”

“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.

You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors.

“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.

“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”

“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”

“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.

“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips.

“I know.”

…

You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes.

You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog.

“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.

“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch.

“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.

“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated.

“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”

Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.

His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.

Miguel was big.

His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length.

You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”

“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to force—”

“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter.

Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.

“Then help me.” He hissed.

…

You needed a new suit. Immediately.

Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.

You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.

Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock.

He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find.

His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment.

He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.

He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”

Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—

You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on.

Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.

He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.

He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you.

“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.

“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.

“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.

You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy.

He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you.

Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—

…

It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.

You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair.

“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”

“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.

You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.

“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.

“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”

“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.

You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you.

“Miguel?”

“Mm?”

“You better get me a suit like yours.”

“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”

“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?”

Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.

“Deal, Hermosa.”

...

Quèdate quieta- Keep still

#ask response #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv

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pathologicalreid · 17 days

Text

total eclipse of the heart

spencer reid x gn!reader, fluff

w/c: 665

this was written solely because bri asked. this is for you. sorry for not sending you my strands results. re: spencer is a simple man and just wants you to not blind yourself by staring at the eclipse.

"I am going to zip-tie those glasses to your head if you don’t stop taking them off,” Spencer scolded from where he sat next to you. The two of you were sharing a blanket in Rossi’s backyard, waiting with the rest of the BAU for the eclipse.

Currently, he was standing in front of you, body blocking the rays of the sun from getting to your retinas.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back on your hands, “That would be a great idea if you had zip-ties with you,” you challenged.

Your boyfriend watched you astutely, making sure your eyes didn’t flicker up to look at the sun. “You are severely underestimating the various items I keep in my bag,” he rebutted, continuing to rattle off the bits and bobs that he kept in his shoulder bag.

Sighing, you inclined your head toward him, “If the sun isn’t totally eclipsed yet, then I don’t know why I shouldn’t be able to look at it.”

“I’ve explained this to you at length over the past week. Even though the sun is partially blocked by the moon, the ultraviolet rays of the sun are still strong enough to do damage to your retinas,” he lectured you, waving from the sun to your face with his hands. “You remember all of this, don’t you?”

You nodded begrudgingly, “The damage done to the retinas is similar to an injury called ‘welder’s burn.’”

Spencer’s face lit up in the recognition that you had in fact been listening to him while he rambled about the solar eclipse. “It’s not painful, but the burn is a result of staring into the sun. The light comes from multiple different wavelengths, and your eyes focus on that powerful light.”

“I don’t like the glasses, they block out everything except for the sun,” you explained, you wanted to be able to see everything. Henry had already fallen victim to the glasses, hitting his head on a table while running around with impaired vision – JJ and Will were inside with him now.

Spencer laid back on the blanket with a huff, “Y/N, I love you, but I am not taking you to the ophthalmologist tomorrow.”

Waggling your brows at your boyfriend, you grinned, “What do I get out of wearing the glasses for the eclipse?”

Naturally, he had his glasses on, and he couldn’t see anything you were doing. “You can see. You could not go blind.”

You flicked your eclipse glasses down onto your nose and joined Spencer in laying back on the picnic blanket. “You make a fair argument, Dr. Reid.”

“It’s not an argument, I’m telling you that you will do irreparable damage to your eyes. This is exactly why we went to the library for the glasses,” Spencer reminded you. The two of you had actually gone to three different libraries for eclipse glasses. Mostly because you had been morally opposed to buying glasses if you could get them for free elsewhere. “This is not a situation where you can argue your side, you either go blind or you don’t.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you sighed defeatedly, “I won’t go blind.”

Spencer hummed, “Good, that’s the right choice, baby.”

After just a few moments of watching the moon cover the sun, you lifted your glasses to look over at Spencer, who quickly reached out to put the glasses back over your eyes, “no, wait!” You said, seeing Spencer start to dig through his leather bag.

“I told you,” Spencer explained, waving the zip-ties in the air. Why he had zip-ties in his bag, you couldn’t say.

Shaking your head, you quickly put the glasses on, “That time was an accident!” Your voice was insistent as you collapsed into a fit of giggles.

“You two are being too loud!” Emily called from her blanket.

In a surprising turn of events, Spencer pinned you to the blanket just as you whispered, “Who’s gonna tell her it doesn’t need to be quiet for her to watch the eclipse?”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #written by margot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble

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illyrianbitch · 2 months

Text

Back to Our Roots

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the Acheron sisters out of town, you and your family plan for a quiet night in— just like old times.

Warnings: drug use, just fun lil high times tbh. Az being a cute partner, Cassian and Reader being best friend and war strategy planning goals

Word Count: 2.3k

An installment of the Mirthroot Mini-Series

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

As if she had sensed their arrival, Mor squeezed through your half-opened door and shut it swiftly behind her, wearing a sly smile that made Rhysand instantly still.

“Heyy, guys.”

Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a look before bringing their attention to the blonde in front of them once more, her body angled awkwardly to block the entirety of your doorway.

“Mor,” Rhys said, eyeing her with a scrutinizing gaze, “Why do you look so guilty?”

She held his gaze for a moment, her mouth falling open slightly as she blinked. Then, she casted a glance to her side before giving a small sheepish smile “Because I am?”

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed even more. “Is that a question or an admission?”

Mor’s smile widened as she gave a small shrug.

“Mor.”

Her eyes were brought to Azriel as he spoke, an expression on his face that mirrored that of Rhysands. His shadows hadn’t warned him of any imminent danger, hadn’t informed him of any threats. Yet Mor stood in front of him with a sense of suspicion he wasn’t able to read.

She remained quiet, opting to raise a brow at him instead.

“Morrigan.”

Mor's smile faltered. "I had no part in this. It was their idea, I swear," she admitted.

Rhys dipped his chin slightly. "Whose?"

"Y/n and Cass.”

Azriel had grown tired of the conversation, of the strange stalling Mor was attempting to do. The mention of your name snapped the last threat of his patience, and with a swift and determined movement, he brushed past Mor, his expression unreadable as he entered your home. Instantly, his shadows slithered along the walls and floors, guiding him unerringly toward you.

Mor trailed after him, her steps quickening. "Truly, I didn't realize how... well, you'll see," she called after Azriel, her voice echoing in the hallway.

It had been a long day. Azriel was looking forward to relaxing tonight, to spending time with his family in a way he hadn’t been able to recently, not when there had been so many concerns, so many threats to worry about. Driven by his eagerness to see you, and a small growing fear that had nestled into his heart at Mor’s welcome, he paid little attention to the subtle noises drifting around him or the faint aroma that began to fill the air.

It didn’t properly hit him until he began opening the dainty glass doors to your living room.

As they swung open, Azriel was instantly hit by a powerful scent, his hand flying to his nose reflexively. Earthy and woody, with a sharp edge that hinted at… skunk?

Azriel blinked.

He recognized this smell. It was one he knew deeply— one he hadn't encountered in what felt like centuries. Blinking rapidly, Azriel squinted to see through the dense cloud that enveloped the room, the air thick and difficult to breathe. With his vision obscured, he could barely make out the shapes on the ground before him. But quickly, through the haze, he discerned your and Cassian's forms, laying leisurely amidst the swirling smoke.

A smile tugged at his lips.

From behind him, Azriel heard the shuffling of Mor and Rhysand as they entered the room, a strong cough following their entrance.

Rhysand let out a whistle, walking to stand next to Azriel. “Damn.”

Despite the three new presences in your living room, neither you nor Cassian seemed to notice. The cloudiness of the room, now seemingly thicker than before, suggested to Azriel that you and Cassian were indeed on a completely different level than him and Rhysand– than Mor, as well, from what he could gather.

You laid on the ground, your hair messily sprawled over your soft rug, eyes closed in bliss, a gentle laughter escaping your lips. Azriel could make out the movements of Cassian’s frame beside you as he mirrored your laughter.

"It's been like this for hours. I thought it would wear off by now," Mor murmured.

Azriel turned his head to look at her, watching as she walked over to one of your bookshelves. She picked up a small container before turning around.

"I guess it's just... really strong?" Mor offered, her expression marked by furrowed brows and a hint of uncertainty. She offered the container towards Rhys with an extended hand.

Rhysand grabbed it gently, examining it before giving it a light squeeze, the top popping off with a small sound. He brought it to his nose. Instantly, he recoiled with yet another small cough.

“Gods, Mor. That is horribly potent.”

Azriel grabbed the container next, bringing it up to smell in the same manner his brother had. Faintly, he felt the cool slick of his shadows as they snaked up his body, a few around his arms, a few curling around his ears in curiosity, attempting to get a better look. The scent tickled his nostrils and he drew back, his shadows mirroring his movements as if the scent had, somehow, also hit them too. Azriel looked up through his brows, casting a quick glance over to where you laid.

“This has rootdust,” Azriel stated, holding up the container for emphasis. “Mor, this is basically all rootdust.”

Mirthroot was a tricky herb to work around. You and Azriel had your fair share of expertise, spending many of your younger years sneaking out into the mountains to smoke together. All of you dabbled, at some point, with holidays spent at the cabin covered in smoke. You and Az had a habit of collecting as much rootdust as possible, a tradition of making the last smoke of the holiday the strongest one— a grand finish, you used to say. Azriel always loved it. But it had been years, and from what Az could tell, Mor wasn’t as skilled as she once was in recognizing the quality of what she was taking in.

“Oh,” Mor breathed out. “Well. I guess we got a really good deal then, huh?”

Rhysand let out an amused breath. “Are you telling me that Cassian and Y/n have been smoking the most highly concentrated part of mirthroot casually?”

“For hours?” Azriel added.

Mor sheepishly smiled once more, "Like I said– it was their idea," she responded, her tone laced with a hint of amusement.

With a thoughtful hum, Azriel turned away from Mor, his gaze now fixed on you. He made his way towards you, his shadows leaping forward eagerly, swirling around him like excited children. Within seconds, they reached your form, gently dancing around your body in movements that elicited soft giggles from your lips. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, curiosity flickering within them as you lifted your hands to watch the shadows playfully run along your hands.

Azriel watched as the realization dawned on you. With a sudden burst of energy, you sprang up from the ground, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you looked up at him. Cassian's head snapped back in surprise, his own grin widening as he caught sight of his brother.

"Az!" you exclaimed with a big grin, a sheer joy evident in your voice that made his heart flutter.

His gaze swept over the coffee table next to you, noting the scattered papers, remnants of ash, and the loose mirthroot nuggets. He let out a laugh at the array of snacks messily spread amongst the herbs, crumbs from what he could only assume were some sort of baked goods— cookies, his shadows informed him. Chocolate chip. He met your eyes again with a grin.

"Hi, gorgeous," he greeted warmly.

With a gentle ease, he made a move to sit down next to you, his movements accompanied by the subtle sound of his knees cracking in response. He lowered himself to your rug, leaning his back against the couch as you scrambled to reposition yourself, your movements slow and uncoordinated. Somehow you managed to settle yourself between his legs, pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You craned your head to look up at him.

Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at your face, illuminated by a wide grin that stretched across your lips. Your eyes were narrowed and slightly puffy, a faint blush painted on your cheeks. Still gorgeous, Az thought, always so gorgeous. A shadow brushed over your cheek, moving to push back a stray strand of your hair.

Cassian’s voice disrupted the moment in a small whine. "Hey, what about me?"

In unison, both you and Azriel moved your heads to look at him, watching as Cassian’s eyes floated between you two. Just like you, Cassian’s eyelids were puffy and half-lidded as he held your stares.

Azriel let out a small snicker. "Hey,” he said.

“What?” Cassian's expression shifted into a frown. "Am I not gorgeous?"

You gasped in mock horror, your body pushing up with the force of the sound. "You are so gorgeous!" you exclaimed earnestly.

Cassian seemed content at the answer, a small smile gracing his face. His gaze then shifted to Azriel, and you followed suit, both of you staring at him with eager eyes. The sight itself was more amusing than anything Az had seen recently, two of the most feared members of the Night Court staring at him like two curious animals.

Azriel flicked his eyes between the two of you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. With a laugh-sigh, he looked at his brother. "You're so gorgeous," he affirmed, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Cassian's gaze lingered on Azriel as he continued. "So gorgeous. If I didn't have her," he gestured towards you, then waved his hand casually, "Nesta would have competition, brother. I mean—"

"Ah, suck a fat one, Az,” Cassian grumbled, pouting to himself as he leaned against the coffee table. “Can't take anything seriously."

Azriel grinned at the response, pulling you closer to his chest as you laughed, the sound caressing him with a familiar warmth. His gaze was pulled up as Mor and Rhysand approached the rug, both wearing amused smiles on their lips.

"We run late and you decide to have all the fun by yourself?" Rhysand teased, raising the container in his hand.

"Actually," Cassian responded, his voice carrying a hint of excitement, "Y/n and I were discussing some strategies."

Rhysand's amusement only seemed to grow at the comment. "Strategies?"

Azriel felt your nod against him.

With a grin, Cassian leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "For, you know, Koschei," he added, emphasizing the last word with a mischievous sloppy wink. Mor snorted at the sight, a laugh falling from her lips.

Rhys glanced between Mor and Azriel. "And?"

Cassian's grin widened, "And we solved it."

Rhysand's gaze returned to Azriel, whose eyebrows lifted in surprise, the corners of his lips turned upwards. "You did?"

Cassian leaned back, with a confident nod. "Ohhh yeah. Tell 'em, Y/n," he prompted eagerly.

You shifted into a new position, leaning sideways against Azriel, as you moved your gaze between all of them. Even the movement of your head was slow, sluggish, and Azriel wondered just how well you were able to see all of them considering how closed your eyes were.

"Koschei is confined to the lake, right?"

The room went quiet as you continued to move your gaze between your family, silence falling upon the group as they waited for you to continue. When a beat passed, Azriel met your gaze, understanding dawning in his eyes as he realized you were seeking confirmation. "Right, yes," he responded with a nod, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you grinned at him.

"So,” you paused, the grin spreading across your face, "what if," you continued, your voice tinged with excitement, “we just drain the lake?"

You and Cassian exchanged a look.

“What’s he gonna go without a lake?” Cass emphasized, “Nothing.”

“Exactly. And we get free water. We could make a pool.”

Finishing your sentence with a sound of content, you looked between everyone in the room. Cassian nodded enthusiastically, as if your combined strategy was the strongest plan he’d come up with in centuries. And he was really excited about that damn pool.

There was a sleek silence as your words were processed.

And then Mor’s reaction came first.

"Oh my Gods," she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth in amusement.

Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a knowing glance before Rhysand let out a bellowing laugh, the sound echoing across the room as he ran his hand down his face.

"That is," he managed to say between laughs, “The best thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel looked down at you with a smile that threatened to split his cheeks, small chuckles reverberating through his chest.

You stared up at him, leaning your head closer to his. "Right?" you chimed in eagerly, seeking validation for your idea. “Right?’

He nodded, unable to resist leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly. "Genius plan, my love," he praised softly.

"I know," you replied with a satisfied grin.

With another laugh, Mor walked to her cousin and grabbed the small container from his hand, eliciting a small eyebrow raise in response.

"For old times' sake," she declared with a grin. With a small groan, she settled down next to Cassian, nudging him to make room. She looked over her shoulder, "Maybe we can brainstorm how it was possible for you to accidentally send a love letter meant for Feyre to Cassian.”

Rhysand’s mouth dropped as he let out a small scoff.

"That happened once!"

“Wait,” Cassian frowned. "That wasn’t for me?"

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

i wrote this while on mirthroot *cough cough* so ignore any typos

p.s i want to make an entire mirthroot series with fun one-shots just cause i luv the idea of the IC just getting time to relax and do silly goofy stuff like recreational drugs (i’m also a stoner so this is my territory 🙏🏻). should i? yes no maybe so (3/9 update: it has been created!! Read the Mirthroot Mini-Series

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