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kikohao · 1 month

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ᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⋆˙. operation: one bed

★ ㅤㅤpairing ; agent!jeonghan x agent!reader ★ ㅤㅤsummary ; you and jeonghan were assigned a case together, you both played the roles of an engaged couple. why is it that you had to share a bed to sell the act? ★ ㅤㅤthemes ; spy au, one bed trope. fluff, mentions of seungcheol, soonyoung, and joshua ★ ㅤㅤwarnings ; cursing, kissing, slight jealousy, use of nicknames ("babe") ★ ㅤㅤword count ; 2k ★ ㅤㅤtaglist ; @nonononranghaee @abodyhasbeenfound ★ ㅤㅤa/n ; one bed trope with jeonghan has been rotting my mind for almost a week omg im really happy i was able to finish it on time! i've never really wrote a "kissing" scene before so im really sorry if its weird bye 😭 requests are always open! (texts, ot13 scenarios, drabbles, fics, mtls, etc) send an ask to be added to my taglist! likes and reblogs appreciated! <3

"Agent Kim, do you hear me?" You try to maintain a formal persona, as you talk into your built-in earphones as you make your way to the grand venue.

"Loud and clear. Make sure your earpiece is switched on at all times." A tuneless voice followed.

Upon entering the hotel, you and Jeonghan were greeted by the expansive lobby that screamed elegance and sophistication.

"They must be bloody rich," Jeonghan muttered quietly, but loud enough for me to hear. He was right though, there were multiple marble chandeliers, casting a warm, golden glow upon all the guests.

It was extraordinarily exquisite.

"Pass the details," Jeonghan spoke into his earpiece as we moved to a certain corner of the corridors, hoping to maintain a low profile throughout the whole party.

After a few shufflings of his notes, he responded.

"Agent Yoon, you're Jacob Choi, son of the most prestigious Grand Celestial Palace. I'm pretty sure no one would go into more detail about you, but make sure they buy the act. We can't risk anything. Agent Y/N, you're Ana Wang, Jacob's fiancee, I'll get back to both of you with more details on the individuals. For now, you both are an engaged couple, seemingly having an Alliance with Mr. Lin."

"Got it."

You and Jeonghan made your way towards the reception to mark you both in now that you've got your "personal" details. By doing so, you both were accompanied by a middle-aged man, possibly someone who worked there. He wore a black suit and bow, around 5'8?

"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight," Agent Kim spoke from the earpiece.

"Why are you so tense?" Jeonghan muttered, "I'm not." You replied swiftly with a scoff earning nothing but a soft chuckle from him that kept on making my ears ring.

Why did your stomach suddenly start to churn? You disregarded it, possibly assuming it was hunger or thirst. Your train of thought was interrupted by a man who made his way towards us. He looked old, although, his rosy cheeks and flawless demeanor said otherwise. Guess he was the well-known, Mr. Lin.

"Oh, Mr. Choi!" He exclaimed out loud for everyone to hear, grabbing Jeonghan's hand and shaking it vigorously.

You tried extremely hard to keep in the giggles that were trying to escape your mouth as you looked at Jeonghan's reaction to the sudden interaction from the man. You forcibly had to look away because you knew you'd fuck things up the second you made eye contact with him.

"It's been so long! How're you and your fiancee? Ms. Wang ain't it?" He questioned, looking towards you. Maybe it was just you and your overthinking capabilities, but you swore something was off about how he looked at you compared to how he looked at Jeonghan, but you decided to brush it off.

"We're doing quite well, thank you." Jeonghan put out, maintaining a calm composure that very well contrasted with his normal personality.

"How's your mom doing? I'm so sorry that happened to her," continued the man. You and Jeonghan shared a quick glance at each other, one that said -- "Oh we're so fucked if we mess this up."

"Mom is doing quite well, thanks for asking. She's doing much better." You replied, noticing the intense tension that followed. Seems like staying here for too long may be risky.

"Babe, why don't we get something to eat? I'm starving." You shared teasingly, looking at Jeonghan, enjoying the flushed expression that lay on his face as you managed to throw in a pout to make it seem more genuine. You both needed to instantly get away for a while to ask Agent Kim about the next plan, and this was the only resort.

Jeonghan excused himself as walked towards one of the empty tables, hand in hand. As soon as we took our seats, Jeonghan voiced through his earpiece, "What do we do next?"

"So far, we haven't found anything. And, I'm guessing neither have the two of you. I checked with Agent Kwon regarding the party details. Seems like everyone attending is encouraged to stay the night, I'm pretty sure it's just for them to make more affiliates, either that or just to show off how rich they are. Either way, I and the crew think it would be beneficial if you did so, in order to uncover more details on Mr. Lin, it would also help in selling your facade since I'm pretty sure he's catching up with suspicions of his."

"Are you sure about that?" You spoke softly into the earpiece, observing the surrounding area, "It sounds quite risky,"

"It is, indeed, but it's your call on whether you want to."

You look at Jeonghan, he seems to have similar thoughts as you do -- he doesn't seem too fond of the idea.

"What do you 'reckon?" you ask him, simultaneously taking a sip of the non-alcoholic wine they'd provided all the attendees.

"Well, it is pretty risky. But, we'd better do as per Mr. Kim and Mr. Kwon since we'd have to put up with these titles until we get the requirements. It'd help sell the act." He finally spoke.

It was unusual. It was unusual how he seemed calm and collected amidst something like this. You'd imagined him to be some kind of reckless person like the persona he usually played so you weren't quite fond of going with him.

You nodded -- he had a point. The faster Mr. Lin believed us, possibly the quicker we could get this case over with.

And, this was it.

Jeonghan hurried towards the hotel management before it was too late to get a room while you sat at your spot, gazing at everyone who attended such a social gathering.

Guess you realized you zoned out when a young man, maybe in his 20s, sat next to you and started up a conversation like good old friends.

"No way, Ana? Is that you?" He put up a question, his face in awe.

"Oh, yes, hello." you manage to spit out, giving off a small smile as you gaze at Jeonghan, his back facing towards you as he converses with the management team.

Guess I'm fucked.

"You were never the one for these kinda parties, you always mentioned that they were too crowded. Guess you grew out of your phase?" He smiled cheekily avoiding the fact that he most possibly just insulted you, or at least the role you're currently playing.

Is this gaslighting?

A phase? How is not wanting to go out and talk with people a phase? You didn't know who Ana was nor did you ever meet her, but you most certainly didn't like someone like him straight up insulting someone.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You questioned, maintaining a small smile. The last thing you wanted was your cover to get blown.

"Oh, Nothing. How's Jacob? He be treating you well?" He continued as he took a small sip from his cocktail drink.

You nodded, glancing every now and then at your so-called "companion" who's left you to talk to some guy who supposedly knows you. It made you laugh how he thinks he's all that -- you could easily spot how the guy was wearing a worn-out suit and tie, most probably already used, and how he just seemed sketchy.

"Keep an eye on everyone you see tonight,"

He did seem quite sketchy.

You spotted Jeonghan making his way back, guess God did hear your prayers after all. As soon as the guy spotted "Jacob" making his way towards us, he excused himself and left. Possibly to get another drink.

"Guess who managed to get us a room with my good looks," he winked at you, holding the keys high up. You couldn't help but chuckle.

Cute, you thought. Instantly regretting it when Jeonghan pointed out who flushed your face looked.

"Oh shut it, Yoon. Look, now you've ruined the mood." You shot back before he got a chance to say something sly.

His smile didn't last long though. "Oh and, who was that?" He asked, most likely mentioning the guy who'd been talking with you while he went to get the keys.

"Some guy who knows Ana. No clue, but he seemed sketchy." You replied, taking the keys from him.

A few hours passed with nothing but talking with the other participants, drinking, eating, talking again, drinking, talking...

"Huge thanks to everyone who was able to attend today. I wish all those returning back home a safe ride. Everyone who's staying for the night, you may make your way towards your rooms. Have a wonderful night!" Mr. Lin spoke out after clinking his wine glass, attaining attention from everyone present in the hall.

You followed Jeonghan as you made your way toward your room, slightly gazing in awe at all the picturesque art on the walls.

As soon as we entered our rooms, we both noticed the same exact thing.

There was only one bed.

One bed.

Anyone would expect Jeonghan to take up the sofa that was present in the room. Well, guess what? You were wrong.

There was a minute of silence before Jeonghan spoke out loud. "I'm taking the bed. You can take the bed if you want, but I'm not taking the sofa if that's what you're thinking." He smirked as he took off his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack before heading towards the bed.

Well, what did you expect?

That Jeonghan would give up the bed?

No chance and not at all surprising.

"You're such a gentleman aren't you?" You placed your shoes alongside him, making your way to the bed, not ready to give it up either. "They should've sent Joshua with me," You sighed out loud for him to hear.

"Joshua?"

"Well, anyone taking a good look at us would know that we're meant to be," You reasoned, followed by a breathy scoff from Jeonghan. You cooed at his reaction, "Aw, babe, didn't know you were the jealous type," you added, teasingly. You hated to admit it but playing Ana was fun.

"Yeah, right."

We both had got into bed by the time it was 11. You switched the lamp that was present in your dimly lit room.

4 AM.

He stared right at me, with his dusk-brown eyes. But, it wasn't a normal stare. But a stare that held desire within. You both faced towards each other, the middle barrier made of pillows long gone.

"What?" You slurred slightly, still half-asleep, heart, leaping in your chest.

It was now that you realized that you failed to realize how ethereal he looked. His tired eyes bore into yours, as his bangs lay lazily on his face.

He leaned in slightly, reducing the gap between us.

"Your eyes are really pretty," He muttered. It always amazed you how he didn't have much of a deep voice like other men, but still seemed dominant without it.

That was a stab to the heart. Not in a bad way though. In a way that made you want to kiss him. You wanted to hold him.

Maybe it was an exaggeration, but you swore you couldn't breathe as soon as he gently placed his lips, carefully molded into a heart, onto yours, locking it in place for a swift second before pulling away.

It lasted like a second or two, but your face looked as if you'd just run a marathon.

"Yoon, are you drunk?" you finally spoke out, not believing what just happened. You thoroughly enjoyed it, but how could he kiss you just like that?

"Yoon doesn't sit right with me, 'Babe' sounds much better."

465 notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 17 days

Note

request: nyx x female reader where they’re matted but don’t know it and reader visits him at the illyrian camps and she gets hurt and nyx loses it

Don't Touch // Nyx (ACoTaR) x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even thank you enough, anon, for this request! I've been desperate to write something like this (especially including my sweet love Nyx; I have an entire headcanon/long-form story of him already, oops). Thank you for requesting! To you or anything else, please request more SJM fics, I am adoring writing them.

Warning: there is a description of visibly seeing the colour of bruising on the skin. Also, intense emotions and responses to situations due to the mating bond.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, minor injuries, possessive behaviour/sex, obsessive behaviour, over-the-top reaction (or just right depends how you like your partners), threats of violence, aggression, rough sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, size kink, intense emotions/sex, sex until passing out :)

Words: 6.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"I've never seen you like this before, Mor" You observe your friend closely as the beautiful blonde woman checks her reflection in the glass of a passing shop.

Morrigan paused, where she was currently trying to perfect her already stunning hair. Trying not to baulk from the intense, fiery stare that turned your way as she raised a single well-groomed eyebrow and attempted to sound as unconcerned as possible, "I don't know what you're referring to. I'm acting completely and utterly sane".

Linking an arm with your friend, you both continued to walk as you sarcastically agreed, "Oh yes, of course. Except that was the tenth time you've stopped to stare at your reflection and tried to fix your already pristine hair, Morrigan".

Mor rolled her brown eyes playfully, moving closer as a brisk wind brushed over the two of you. "You already know I'm vain; why is it such an issue if I want to stare at myself?" she asked, leading in the direction the two of you were walking.

"I didn't say there was an issue. I'm just pointing out that we're heading towards a certain someone's shop, and she's going to love how you look no matter what". Mor hid her face for once, but you could still see the rosy colour deepening in her cheeks.

She quickly recovered by lifting her head and flicking the blonde strands behind her shoulders. "You're one to talk. I've seen you searching over your shoulder 50 times now. Wouldn't it be because of a certain family member of mine, would it?"

There was no hiding the grin that spread across your face as your pulse quickened ever so slightly. "Nyx doesn't even know that I'm in Windhaven. I might not even see him; I'm not here for him."

"Who says I was talking about Nyx? I'm pretty sure Feyre and Rhys are here too", she laughs as you shove your shoulder into hers playfully. As you both calm down, Mor's expression turns more serious. She glances at you, "I'm surprised he hasn't sensed you're here yet. I also don't necessarily think he'll welcome you with open arms; he's attempted to shield you from this side of his life. As hard as we are trying to change the cultures and traditions of the Illyrians, most of them are still unpleasant to be around, especially if you happen to be a female, wings or not."

"You didn't have to bring me here, you know".

"Yes, well, don't make me regret it. Stay nice and close to me, and anyway", Mor paused as she paused outside Emeries shop. "I needed an excuse to come here", she admitted with as much sheepishness as Morrigan would ever allow another person to see.

You couldn't help but grin as you squealed, "Ha! I knew it!"

The bell dinged above the shop door as you followed the blonde through the door. The answer, welcomed by Emerie by the counter, "There you both are! Welcome to Windhaven, stay away from the males, and please have a lovely time", she beams, walking around the counter towards Mor.

Glancing around to give both women a private moment, you admired her shop and eyed some of the winter clothing that would be perfect for the cold weather approaching Velaris in a few months. As you ran your fingers over the lining of a beautiful coat and casually suggested over your shoulder, "If you want, I can watch the shop if you two happen to find your way upstairs. Didn't you say you have some new socks in the back room?"

"Oh yes, thank you for the reminder!" Emerie played with your antics and took Mor's hand, dragging her into the back. Smiling at seeing their happiness, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the man whom you'd been searching for from the second of landing in Windhaven.

You and Nyx had been friends since childhood. You'd spotted a young boy flying over the Sidra, mesmerised by the freeness of his movements, not watching where you were walking, tripped and scratched your knee on the pavement. Having watched it all from the sky, Nyx landed beside you and helped you home. He hadn't laughed like the other children; he'd shown compassion and kindness.

The son of the High Lord and Lady quickly became one of your closest friends, spending every waking hour possible together when you weren't in lessons or he was in training. Along the way, lines became blurred, and you were infatuated with one another. The relationship was intense, to say the least, and the two of you often joked about being mates, but no sign of the bond had occurred yet.

Not that this mattered to you. You were thoroughly and obsessively in love with Nyx, and he was with you. In fact, his obsession and possessive behaviour were renowned throughout Velaris. Every occupant knew that you were Nyx's; if a single hair on your head was out of place, he would bring all of the power of the Night Court down on them. It was extreme at first, but in truth, you were not much of a fighter, so being able to walk around Velaris with the reputation of belonging to Nyx was a relief.

Now, however, it had been weeks since you saw him as he'd been training with the other Illyrians, and even though he used his daemati skills to talk mind to mind with you or he left intimate little notes throughout your home, it couldn't ease the ache in your chest. So when Mor mentioned visiting Emerie's shop in Windhaven, you jumped at the opportunity to see, hoping you'd run into him, even if he didn't want you near the camps.

Lost in your thoughts of black hair and vibrant blue eyes, you'd not noticed that someone had entered the shop until a male growled from behind you, "Where is she?"

Jumping and turning on the spot, you looked the Illyrian over from the golden-brown skin covered in the darkest black tattoos that stretched up his neck and over the sides of his shaved head, leaving a tuft of hair down the centre. His membranous wings were widely spread as he stood in a defensive stance, fists tightly clenched at his side and armour creased from lack of care.

"Who?" you asked innocently, facing him fully and trying not to let his anger intimidate you even though you could already smell the sourness of your anxiety and fear in the air. The stranger walks forward, the tips of his wings knocking into a collection of hats, all toppled to the floor. "Watch where you're walking!"

The male stops a step away, tilting his head and frowning with even more vigour, "What did you just say to me?" As he took another step forward, you matched his step with one backwards until you were pressed against the wall with him towering over you.

"Just - Just watch it, ok? You're knocking over the display" You pointed to the knocked-over items, but he didn't take his eyes off of you, searching over your body until your skin crawled with discomfort.

"Wherever that thief is, give her this", he shoves the letter that had been screwed up in his meaty hands into your chest. You gasp out loud at the pain that rips through your shoulder, knowing it is going to bruise, and you have to look away to hide the tears that had formed as you grasp the letter and watch him leave.

It was only as the bell rang as the male exited that Emerie and Mor rushed into the room with a dagger in hand as they rushed to your side. If it wasn't for the shock and pain in your shoulder, you would have commented and jested how they both looked flustered with dishevelled hair and swollen lips, but this was the last thing on your mind now.

"Who was just here? Why do you smell of fear?" Mor asked as she rested a hand on your arm, looking at you furiously with concern.

"I don't know his name, but he gave me this for you, Emerie." You held out the letter, ignoring how your fingers trembled as she accepted it with a roll of her eyes.

"His name is Prumlos. He works closely with my uncle, and they believe they have rights to my shop. No matter how often I tell them, they keep coming back. Unlucky for me, he trains here in Windhaven and often brings new threatening letters from my extended family. He's a really brute", she pauses as she eyes you closely, "are you ok? Did he harm you in any way?"

Swallowing the thick lump formed in your throat, you attempt to compose yourself, not wishing to seem weak in front of these two strong females. Maybe you'd been sheltered too much throughout your life, but you didn't want to be emotionally broken just because one arrogant male was rude to you, even if your shoulder throbbed terribly.

"He just gave me the letter", you managed to spit out, not looking either female in the eye.

"Bullshit. I can still smell your fear; what did he do?" Mor demanded, stepping closer.

"Nothing! I mean, he was just an arrogant male and just wanted to scare me. I'm fine, really. But could we go, please? Sorry, I know we've only just arrived. Maybe I can wait for you in the High Lord's mother's home, Mor? I just need to be shown the way". You held your breath, waiting for Mor to answer, hoping she didn't try to question you further, but thankfully, she agreed.

"I'm sorry you've been shaken up; I hope it hasn't deterred you from coming to visit me every so often," Emerie smiled gently while holding your hand.

Thanking her, you and Mor left the store and began walking down the street. "Are you sure you're ok? I can see you're still shaken up; talk to me, Little star", Mor asks a couple of silent minutes later and hearing the nickname the inner circle had named you from a child finally brought a smile to your face.

But then Mor tried to link her arm through yours, and you couldn't help but flinch as the movement caused the pain in your shoulder to worsen. Mor noticed and stopped abruptly, turning you towards her, "He did hurt you, didn't he? Tell me so I can go and deal with him".

"No! Please, Mor, can we just go? You know I hate violence".

"Do you want me to go and find Nyx?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"No!" you say urgently, looking up at her with wide eyes, "Please don't, you know how he'd react. I just want to go to Rhys' mother's home and forget about the day. I'll speak to Nyx another time".

With great reluctance, Mor nods, and the two of you continue the walk back to the home. Once inside and next to the fire, you could finally stop and relax, especially as Mor offered you a hefty glass of wine to help your nerves.

After half an hour of sipping away at the absurdly expensive win, shoes off and feet tucked beneath you, Mor suddenly sat up further in her seat with a smile, informing you, "You're about to be a very happy female".

You're confused by her statement, but then you feel it: the connection in your heart is strengthening, like the missing piece to you was suddenly warming and filling in. The front door opened, and Feyre and Rhys walked in first, followed by Cassian and Nyx.

You're half aware of Cassian's joyful greeting: "Ah, Little star! You've finally come to join the camps. We'll have you trained in no time".

You stand quickly, eyes only on Nyx as he stands in the doorway, not breathing as he stares only at you. One second, you're near the table, and the next, you're running full speed towards him, sliding across the wooden floor with your socks, not that you care as you're suddenly in his arms.

The pain had diminished the second you were reunited with him. All you cared about was breathing him in, the relaxing scents of spice and lavender, the strength of his arms as they wrapped around your waist, keeping you up off of your feet that had tucked around his hips. Your fingers clenched into curling hair at the nape of his neck, not caring that it was sweaty from where he'd been training. He could be covered in mud, and you would have jumped into his arms with as much enthusiasm.

The others in the room pretended to look busy as he continued to hold you, his face moving into the nape of his neck, and he took a deep breath, breathing in your scents. Nyx's voice was like dark silk, wrapping around you entirely as he said, "I knew you were here. I mean, I thought I was losing my mind; an hour ago, the tightness in my chest eased".

You couldn't help but giggle, kissing his cheek, "That was me; I arrived about an hour ago". Pulling back in his arms, the back of your fingers caressed against his cheek, admiring the light stubble that had grown since you'd last seen him. "I like this", you admire.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his thumbs stroking circles from where he still held up your body.

"I came to see my best friend, of course", you claimed, watching his handsome features as his smile grew to a grin, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath your thumb. "Yes, I came to see my best friend Emerie", you joked as Nyx rolled his crystal blue eyes before moving his face back to nuzzle against your jaw.

"I've missed you", he mumbles, not caring that you both had an audience and your heart clenched tighter at the need in his voice.

"I've missed you too, more than you could ever know".

"If you two aren't mates, I'll eat my trousers", Cassian quips sarcastically over the rim of his glass of wine. Mor slaps his arm for interrupting as you're lowered back to the floor by Nyx, but you still lean on the tip of your toes, pushing your chest against his to remain close.

Admiring the passionate way Nyx is searching your face, you turn to grin as Cass is over your shoulder when the sudden deathly shift in the air has you freezing. The faelights casting a golden glow across the house dimmed as the room became cold, the fire extinguishing in a single breath.

Your head spins as you turn back to Nyx, who is staring at the opening of your shirt beneath your neck.

"What's that mark?" Nyx asked, his voice a terrifying tone you'd only heard on a handful of occasions. Instinctively, you were stepping back, but his gentle hand grabbed yours, keeping you close. You can sense his family moving closer, and Nyx doesn't wait for you to answer his question. He carefully releases your hand and pushes aside the material of your blouse until your shoulder is exposed.

Glancing down, you could see now that where Prumlos had shoved the letter into your shoulder earlier had now formed a deep purple bruise. Nyx leans forward, sniffs your skin, and his spine instantly stiffens.

"Who did that to you?" he asks, voice thick with venom and anger.

You're unable to give him an answer as Mor is suddenly by your side, holding open your shirt to stare at the injury as she gasps, "I asked if he hurt you!"

"He?!" Nyx growls, looking between Mor and you.

Attempting to take a step away from both of them, you try and calm the energy, sensing it is escalating to a level that could not be returned from. It wasn't that Nyx was scaring you; it was quite the opposite, as his protection made you feel safe; you were just frightened that he would do something he couldn't undo and start a war within the camps.

"I'm fine; it doesn't even hurt anymore" you tried to reason, but that only made Nyx breathe heavily out of his nose as he turned to Mor.

"Who did this? Give me his name. Tell me right now, Morrigan!"

Thankfully, Mor didn't answer immediately and glanced at you from the corner of your eye, knowing that you didn't want to cause a fuss, so she didn't respond immediately, which only frustrated Nyx more in his crusade for revenge. "This is why you shouldn't have bought her here! I told you on multiple occasions that it wasn't safe!"

"Nyx, you need to take a breath; maybe you and your father should go outside and release some of that energy" Feyre tried to reason with him, stepping closer, but it was useless; Nyx was like a boiling pot of deathly anger. Shadows pulsed and darkened around him, travelling up the length of his muscular arms and around his neck. Rhys and Cassian finally began to step forward, moving into a warrior stance between Mor, Feyre and Nyx, even attempting to urge you behind them, but there was no way you were being forced away from Nyx.

Stepping toe to toe with him, your fingers moved back to cradling his face, forcing his now icey eyes onto you, and for a fraction of a second, he seemed calmer. "Nyx, please listen to me, I'm fine. Everything is ok, it was just-"

You were unable to finish your sentence because his knees buckled, and he audibly gulped down air as all signs of anger and pain disappeared from his eyes and tears lined the edges. "Nyx?"

"Mate", he whispers in awe, leaning his forehead against yours as his arms come around your waist, holding you delicately.

You could feel it, too, like an elastic band was tied around your heart, strengthening with each passing second. "I can feel it too"," you confirmed with glee, tears beginning to fill your eyes with the sudden realisation of what was happening. You and Nyx were mates. The Cauldron had blessed you both; even after waiting what felt like a lifeline for the bond to confirm itself, you both knew it had only been a matter of time. The relief was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

"Finally!" Cassian cheered, loosening his warrior stance to return to his glass of wine, raising it towards where you and Nyx stood in the entryway. "Welcome to the family, Little Star!"

You grin up tearfully towards Nyx, who in turn returns the joy, but that all disappears as the anger and rage return full force as he growls, "Someone hurt my mate". Moving away from you, he faces Mor and demands, "Tell me his name, Mor, I know you know it. Don't make me find it out".

Morrigan shifts, rolling her shoulders back as she looks down at Nyx, which is an incredible feat considering the fact that he is considerably taller than her. "Are you threatening me, Nyx??

"He hurt my mate!" he bellows at her, but she doesn't so much as flinch as she shifts her gaze to you, looking like she's contemplating a hundred thoughts at once. Then, without looking away, she confirms the man's name.

"Prumlos".

Nyx vanishes before you have time to stop him, and seconds pass before the ground trembles and shakes the home's foundation.

"No! I didn't want violence! Why did you tell him, Mor?!" you gawped at the blond, who didn't look remotely sorry.

As Rhysand grabs Cassian and winnows away, Mor steps closer with Feyre at her side. "I told him because we protect our own. Not only has he hurt you, but he's also threatening Emerie; he deserves what's coming to him. In fact, I shouldn't have faltered with telling Nyx, that is my only regret".

You feel defeated and stare at your feet with a thousand thoughts dizzying your mind. Was Nyx ok? Was he hurt? When would he come back? He was your mate. Nyx was YOUR mate.

A pair of brown leather boots entered your vision as Feyre stepped close, wrapping an arm carefully over your not-injured shoulder as she directed you towards the table, kissing your cheek as she moved, "Welcome to the family, properly that is. You've always been one of us, Little Star. Now, why don't you take a seat and I'll see if we have any healing ointments remaining in the cupboards".

Thankfully, Feyre had found a purple ointment that had already worked enough that the pain in your shoulder was considerably less, and the colour of the bruising was now a subtle yellow. Nibbling nervously on the corner of your thumb as you awaited your mate's return, it finally dawned on you. "Wait, how am I supposed to do this? Aren't mates supposed to have a ceremony or something?"

"There can be a ceremony where you offer Nyx some food; we can organise it once we return to Velaris if you'd like? Or if you'd rather not wait, you could offer him food whenever you'd like", Feyre explained warmly with a gentle smile that matched Nyx's.

"I don't think I want to wait. We've all known we would be mates, and waiting for this bond has been slow, so I don't want to wait to accept his bond.

"Why don't you go and have a look in the kitchen? There might be something here", Mor encouraged with a nod towards the back of the house.

You scoured the kitchen cupboards for any sort of food, but with the house having not been in proper use for years, there was nothing except some stale bread on the kitchen table with suspicious-looking green mould on the edges. Even after ripping away the discoloured sections of the bread, you still eyed it with uncertainty.

Stepping out of the kitchen and returning to the dining area, you were surprised to find that Mor and Feyre had gone, and Nyx now stood calmly in the centre of the room, his eyes watching your every breath.

"Where did everyone go?" you ask, trying to fill the thick tension with some noise.

Nyx smiled, not enough to show his dimple but enough to have your shoulders dropping with ease as he stated, "I don't care where they've gone, as long as you remain". Those blazing eyes lowered to your hands as he sucked in a powerful breath as he looked at the stale bread that you were still holding.

As he took several steps forward, you couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to him?"

"What he deserved". There wasn't a speck of blood on his leathery uniform. "What are you doing with that bread?" he asked in a low voice.

You're unsure why you're so nervous when you answer, "Oh, um. It was meant to be for you. I can't find anything else for the mating bond, but it's stale and has mould over it. Maybe I can find a little shop here to find some proper food and serve that to you- NYX!"

Closing the gap between you, he takes the bread out of your hands and, without taking his eyes off of yours, begins to chew the bread that was so clearly dry and stale as he chewed for considerably longer than he should have.

As he finally swallows, you're reaching up for him, resting your hands on his chest and feeling the racing of his heart beneath your palms. "You're my mate", you breathe in awe, forgetting everything that had happened that day and only focusing on the man before you.

"I am. I'm yours, and you're mine", he states with as much wonderment as you felt in your soul.

Grinning up at him, you remind him, "Forever. You're mine forever". The tension beneath your fingers eases as he takes a steadying breath, and then his eyes lower to the edges of your blouse.

You watch with bated breath as he checks the mostly healed bruise. "I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier".

"Nyx, you could never frighten me, " you reassure and tip a finger beneath his chin so that he has to look at your face, not the injury.

"I've always wanted to keep you safe. Seeing that bruise on you today, I was ready to destroy the world to find out who harmed you".

"I know". You watch as he nuzzles into your palm, kissing the centre as you try to lighten the mood, "You're very intense, you know that, right" you say with a light laugh.

Nyx grins, that precious dimple capturing your attention. "I'm more than intense; I'm obsessed. I've been obsessed for years, and now, there's no escaping me" he chuckles as his hand cups around the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, your arms and legs wrapping around his firm body.

"I thought it was just me with the obsession", you retort whilst curling your fingers into his hair once more. Leaning your forehead against him, you both just breathe the other in, eyes closed and hearing the hearts beating as one.

"There hasn't been a second since you entered my life where I haven't wanted you to be by my side. I think I always knew, even when we were children. And now, you're mine".

"Officially", you joke with a giggle, squeezing your arms and legs more firmly around him.

"Officially, my mate", he agrees and then sighs, balancing your weight on one arm so that he could move aside your blouse and kiss the lightening bruise. "I don't want you to come back here again if you can help it. I don't trust these males".

"That's fine with me. I don't particularly want to return, no matter how lovely Emerie's shop is. I don't know how you can stand to be here, let alone train with them", you agreed wholeheartedly.

"You deserve to be in nice and happy places like Velaris, and I can deal with dreadful places like this. It's in my blood, after all". Nyx took a moment to admire your beauty before he stepped forward and winnowed the two of you into his bedroom in the River House in Velaris. "Finally back where we both belong. Now, you're wearing too many clothing articles".

"Wait, don't you have training?" you ask in confusion.

"Not anymore. They'll have to come here and fight me to drag me back to that shit hole tonight. I have other plans now anyway". As he finished talking, he gently eased you onto the navy silk sheets of his bed, resting his arm next to your head as he looked down at you.

You giggle as his hair falls into his face. Reaching up, you pushed the dark curls back to see him grinning at you with just as much glee. "Mmm, I love that sound", he admires before lowering his face to the junction of your neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive area, causing a shiver to burst over your skin.

"What sound?" you ask in a daze.

"You laughing. Your happiness. It's the best sound in the world", he groans as his lips travel up the slope of your neck before teasing your earlobe.

"You're being extra soppy today, Nyx", you say halfheartedly, secretly loving how open he was with his emotions.

However, the man above you freezes, his mouth next to your ear as he asks, "Say that again".

You know exactly which word he wanted you to repeat as you sigh happily, close your eyes and say, "Nyx".

He moans deeply, his hips rutting into the bed with a thrust as a shiver shakes his large frame. "Again," he asks as he lowers his hands to palm your breasts through your blouse.

It was your turn to sigh before whispering, "Nyx".

He lowers his body, kissing down your sternum as he unbuttons the material, exposing your bra and soft skin to him. Your fingers continue to weave through his hair, subtly scratching against his scalp as he doesn't stop on his journey lower. Next, he removes your jeans and socks until all that remains is your underwear.

He appeared to be a man possessed as he stared at you beneath him, biting your lip in need. With an easy snap of his fingers, he tore through the centre of your bra and pushed the useless straps off of your shoulders and down your arms and then repeated the tearing with your underwear.

Nyx utterly admired every inch of your body, his eyes full of emotions and desires. He seemed conflicted, though, unsure whether to spend his sweet time kissing and tasting every inch of your body. Still, as you spread your legs and directed him where you truly wanted him, he growled lowly, lowering his body until he kneeled next to the bed, arms wrapped around your thighs and feasted between your legs.

"Nyx!" you cried out, eyes closing and back arching from the stimulation.

The two of you had been intimate for years, both losing your virginities together and exploring each other's bodies; you knew one another better than yourselves. Nyx liked to show this off as he perfectly flicked his tongue and held you firmly with his hands; you were begging in a matter of seconds. The man bringing you closer and closer to the edge chuckled as he felt you tremble with restraint, knowing he was only doing enough to keep you on the very brink, loving the desperate little cries you released until it was all too much, and you cried out, "Please! Nyx!"

Sucking on your clit was all that he needed to do to have you spiralling into euphoric bliss. Your thighs trembled as they squeezed around his head, but he would happily be suffocated between your legs, so let the warmth of the press into his cheeks until you'd calmed down enough to relax the muscles.

Breathlessly, you looked down your body to where he was grinning, kissing the top of your pubis before licking his shiny lips.

"You're wearing too many clothes". The armour he was wearing vanished in a flicker of magic. Sitting up on the bed, your hands wound around his toned shoulders, feeling the muscle ripple and move beneath as you tugged him closer and kissed him with all the desperation you could muster.

Both of you were moving with such urgency that your emotions were overwhelmed, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cried out the words, "Mine!" repeatedly. You'd heard of the frenzy after a mating bond is accepted, but you never anticipated it to feel this chaotic. You needed every single inch of him, wanted to taste his body, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the moans from between his lips. There was too much to do, and your brain was engulfed with the need to do everything simultaneously.

Gripping onto his arms, you pulled Nyx so that he was now the one lying in the centre of the bed as you moved to straddle over his waist. With your lips still desperately moving together, tongue caressing and deepening into each other's mouths, your hands finally grasped around the thick, veiny length of your mate.

During any other intimate moment, you would have admired the sheer size of him or the beautiful sensation of him throbbing between your fingers, but right now, all you were desperate to do was give him pleasure.

Squeezing your fingers more firmly around the shaft, you moved up and down, using your thumb to smear the precum over the head. He shivered at the touch, his abs tightening and flexing as he groaned in pleasure.

"Need to be inside of you", he pleaded against your lips. You didn't need to tell twice as you roused high on your knees and direct the tip of his cock towards your drenched hole. You only gave yourself a second to adjust to the sheer size of him before you were rotating your hips and beginning to rock back and forth with increasing speed.

Nyx's arms wrapped around your spine, reaching to grasp onto the back of your shoulder so he had a good foundation to hold and fuck his hips up in time to meet yours. The firmness of his strokes had you seeing stars with how deep he felt. You were utterly consumed by Nyx.

The two of you were fucking each other with such a bruising pace that all you could do was dig your nails into his chest and ride him like your life depended on it. It was only a matter of minutes until you were coming, squeezing your walls tightly around his cock until he, too, was tipping his head back and grunting your name with his own pleasure.

You all but collapsed on top of his chest, greedily sucking in air that smelled entirely of him, and you couldn't get enough. It seemed he couldn't for you either as you continued to feel his hardness within you, not softening even after his orgasm.

Before long, with your face still plastered to his sweaty chest, your hips began to roll, his cock nudging deep inside of you.

"I can't fucking get enough of you", you gasp as he throbbed within you.

Nyx rolled the two of you over, so now he was on top, your legs repositioned so that they were against his shoulders, and you were all but bent in half, the angle meaning he could fuck even deeper.

"Yes! Nyx, please don't stop!" you scream, reaching over his shoulders and stroking the sensitive membrane of his wings, watching them flare behind his back.

"Say it", he begs, his eyes glazed whilst looking down at you.

"Nyx!"

"Yes! Say you're mine!"

"I'm yours!" Nyx moves harder, his hand slipping down your legs until his thumb could circle your clit.

"That's right", he grunts between thrusts, "And I'm yours. Forever".

You orgasm so hard you're sure you black out for a couple of seconds because, in the next breath, Nyx is beside you, spooning himself around you, kissing along your collarbones and stroking his palm down your stomach.

"I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" he asks with a rough voice.

You smile softly whilst reaching up to scratch your nails behind his ear, tucking the curls behind his pointed ears, careful not to snag the strands on the multiple silver hoops in his ear. "Not at all, I loved every second".

Nyx grinned, and the starlight that usually glowed in his eyes returned for the first time that day, and he was finally at ease.

"I can't believe you ate that stale bread", you say, laughing at the memory.

"I would have eaten the mould too if you'd given it to me. Whatever food you gave me, I would have accepted it with need in my heart". Those perfect lips of his began to kiss across your cheek and down your throat; however, now that the madness of needing to have sex with him had calmed for a moment, you could actually look him over properly, and that's when you noticed the doting of bruises over his arms and chest, all in different stages of healing.

You tense and ask urgently, "Were these from him? Earlier in the day, I mean?"

Nyx moves away from kissing your throat to look at what you're referring to, shaking his head and casually explaining, "No, they're from training. That asshole didn't have time to make a move against me before I-". You'd lost the ability to hear anything further as a fire burned so thoroughly throughout your soul that it momentarily stole your breath. Red burning anger pulsed in your soul, unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

Before a coherent thought could drift through your mind, you're pushing away from Nyx and climbing out of bed on unsteady legs. Needing to half crawl on the floor before righting your posture, you marched towards his bedroom door.

"Woah, Little Star", Nyx is suddenly in front of you, blocking your exit as he holds his hands up.

You try and push past him, but he just carefully eases you away from the door, "Let me past!" you shout in frustration, trying to wiggle past him.

"I don't think so", he responds gently and calmly.

"Nyx, let me out of this house!" You don't get far through as he moves to press your body against the wooden door.

"And what exactly do you think you're going to do?"

Baring your teeth at him over your shoulder, you continued trying to get out of his hold. "I'll kill everyone who harmed you!"

"Oh really?" Nnyx says lightheartedly and with a slight chortle. "You'll kill them? Miss' I despise violence'?"

You turn around so that you're chest to chest with Nyx, looking up at his with eyes so full of fury he actually bulked and softened his laughter. "Whoever hurt you doesn't deserve to live! They hurt you. My mate. MY MATE. They won't live to see the night!"

Nyx wasn't sure how to calm you down, having never seen you with such anger pulsing through your veins before, but he did what he thought was best: distract you. His fingers clutched desperately into your hair as his mouth pressed against yours firmly enough to cause bruises.

You fight and push against him at first, but then thoughts of anger and pain dissolve into lust and need as you're once more desperately grabbing him. Tearing your mouth away, you kiss down his throat, tasting the salty spice of his natural scent.

"These feelings, they will pass", Nyx reassures as he closes his eyes, thoughts entirely on your mouth as you close your lips around his nipple, biting the sensitive bud.

"So you get to have revenge on someone that wrong me, but I don't get to do the same for you?" you ask whilst looking up at him through your lashes, your nails scratching down his abs before grabbing his once more hardening cock.

He releases another long breath, trying to keep his composure as he thrusts into your palm. "I'm saying that I've had a lifetime of training, and taking care of one pathetic asshole was light work. The mating bond is the intense anger you're feeling, protecting my pride. Everything is so new and fresh, but it will pass Little Star. You'll understand that these bruises were all part of my training in a couple of hours. Everyone has similar marks, making the training brutal and volatile. So this feeling, it will pass. Anyway, you are not leaving this room naked with my cum still dripping down my thighs".

You're finally beginning to relax as your harsh touches soften until you're gently cupping his shaft and looking up at him sheepishly, "I thought you would have liked it if everyone got to see who I belonged to?"

Turning on the spot, you rested your hot cheek against the cool wood of the door and began to grind your arse against his cock, "Mmm, don't tempt me", he growls against the side of your face as he moves closer, bending his knees so he could position his cock into your cunt.

Nyx proceeds to fuck you so hard against the door that it begins to crack down the centre. But neither of you stopped for hours. Not until you were both thoroughly exhausted that neither could stand.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips as you teeter on unconsciousness's edge.

"I love you too", you tiredly say back, eyes drooping, and the darkness of sleep welcomed you into its abyss.

#nyx #nyx archeron #nyx acotar #nyx smut #nyx x reader #nyx acotar smut #nyx acotar x reader #acotar smut #acotar #mine*

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emilysslvt · 7 months

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You're Hotch's daughter and you have a thing for Emily Prentiss. You've been on the team for a couple of years, and you never saw it going anywhere considering your dad was strict and they were best friends.

guys i've never posted on here before LMFAO so bare w me, i gotta figure out how to use this app

---

The BAU team was gathered around at their desks, doing the rest of their paperwork before going home. It wasn't too late, it was just a very long case and everyone was tired.

"Who want's drinks?" Rossi stood near the door of his office, looking down at everyone.

"Only if you're paying." You half joked. He smiled, and your dad came out of his office once he heard drinks.

"Not for you, y/n. You only turned 21 a year ago." He said sternly. Not cool.

Derek laughed, "you're not serious, are you, Hotch?" He didn't answer, but instead he raised his eyebrow. You knew he was serious once he did that.

You rolled your eyes, sick of his bullshit. "Well, I'm still going whether you like it or not."

He made his way down the stairs, Rossi quickly followed him. Everyone grabbed their things, and made their way out the door.

"I'll sneak you some alcohol, don't worry." Emily whispered, leaning over your shoulder. You smelt the perfume she was wearing, it was so intoxicating. Sure, it was a just a small crush at first, but over the years it became more than that.

You smiled, looking back at her. "Ohh, going behind your best friend's back? Risky."

Emily ran her tongue along her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth, she then smirked. Your eyes followed her tongue, she drove you crazy doing that. "I've thought about it multiple times." Emily shrugged, and she ran off to catch up with the team.

That left your mind wondering on what she meant. Thought about it multiple times how?

"You walk so slow." Garcia grabbed your arm, linking them together. She had gotten the memo of you all going for drinks, and she quickly left her office.

You smiled, leaning your head on her shoulder. "I'm just tired. Also, my dad won't even let me drink. He's so weird about that stuff." You whispered, so your dad wouldn't hear.

Garcia ran her fingers through your hair as you waited for the elevator to open, and you felt Emily's eyes on you.

"I think I deserve one drink, considering I caught the killer. Just saying." You said, lifting your head up. Your dad rolled his eyes.

"One."

You smiled, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, old man." Derek and Emily immediately started laughing, as they find everything funny.

"You're pushing your luck." You felt his eyes burning your skin from the dirty look he gave you. You shrugged, holding back your smile.

Once you got to the bar, you ordered your drinks and sat at a booth. Derek, Penelope, and JJ forced Spence to dance, and Rossi forced Hotch to dance. Leaving Emily and you alone at the table.

You felt awkward, to be honest. With your crush on Emily growing, you couldn't be in a room alone with her without blushing or staring at her. So, you didn't look or talk to her. You focused on your drink, not paying attention to Emily's wandering eyes.

"Something on your mind?" You heard Emily. Not ready for this conversation, you chugged everything in your glass. Faking a smile, you turned to look at her.

"Nope. I'm just tired, it was a long case." You responded. She squinted, trying to read your face. You needed another drink, or better yet, shots. Get's the job done quickly. You smiled again, excusing yourself from the table. You saw your dad looking the other direction, so you made your way to the bar.

"What can I get for you?"

"Cherry cheesecake." You've never had it before, but it had vanilla vodka and it sounded good. He nodded, and he started to make your drink.

As he put it in front of you, you saw Emily sit next to you out of the corner of your eye. You downed the shot, preparing yourself.

"I'll have what she's having." Emily told the bartender. He nodded, and she turned to look at you.

Emily watched you as you took the shot, and she smirked. "Looks like you don't need my help sneaking alcohol."

"Rossi will keep him busy for a bit. Might as well take advantage of it." You responded, putting the glass down. The bartender handed Emily hers, and you ordered another one.

You watched her as she put the glass to her lips, leaning her head back, and how she closed her eyes as she drank it. She looked so fine doing anything, you felt like you were a kid in a candy store every time you looked at her.

Everything she did was intriguing to you. You couldn't keep your eyes off of her, but thankfully the bartender placed your drink in front of you.

"Can I get 4 shots of vodka, and whatever she wants." You said, looking at Emily. She smirked, and ordered shots of tequila.

"And what if Hotch sees how drunk you are once he stops dancing. Or whatever it is he's doing." Emily looked over at him, then back to you. You shrugged, taking the drink he placed in front of you.

After you drank it, you placed it down and turned to look at Emily. "What is he going to do? Ground me?" Emily chuckled, shaking her head.

"No, but probably yell for not listening. You have to admit, he's scary when he yells." Emily replied. The bartender came back with the eight shots, and he placed them in front of you two.

You thanked the man, then grabbed a shot. "I know. One time he caught me sneaking back into the house, and I've never been so scared in my life. The whole neighborhood could hear his yelling." Emily tilted her head as she listened to you talk, and you felt your cheeks heating up.

"He told the team about it, actually. You were what, 17?" She asked, grabbing a shot. You nodded as you took the shot, then whinced at the taste. No matter how much you drank, that first shot of vodka was disgusting.

You quickly took the rest of your shots, wanting to go back to the table before your dad got back. Emily got the memo, and she took hers too.

You watched Emily as she downed the shots, not taking your eyes off of her once. She felt your eyes watching her, and she hated to admit it, but she liked the idea of you fantasizing over her. Emily licked her lips, getting the rest of the alcohol off of them. As she looked up at you, you looked away.

Emily placed her hand on your arm, "you don't have to look away every time I look at you. I think it's cute how much you stare at me." Your mouth slightly dropped, was it that obvious?

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Emily slightly scoffed, rolling her eyes. "It's obvious. Every time I come into the room, you look away or you stare at me until I look at you. You will talk up a storm until I walk in, then you're silent. You blush when I look at you, or compliment you. Shall I go on?"

You bit your lip nervously, not knowing what to say or do. "No, I think I got it." Emily moved her hand from your arm, and she placed it on your upper thigh. She looked over to the team, making sure they weren't looking, then she looked back at you.

"Want to explain to me why you do that? Why you get nervous when I talk? Or why your eyes follow my tongue when I lick my lips?" Emily asked in a low tone.

You looked at her hand as she rubbed your thigh, and you tried to form words. The alcohol hitting you like a truck, and Emily touching you and flirting with you. It felt like a fever dream.

You felt Emily lift your head, "my eyes are up here, y/n." Emily had a smirk plastered onto her face, and her words danced in your mind.

"Sorry.."

Emily ran her thumb along your bottom lip, and she had a mischievous look on her face. You grabbed her hand, pulling her up from her seat, and you dragged her to the bathroom.

Once the door shut, she pushed you against the door. Emily's arm was around your waist, holding you in place, and with her free hand, she pushed your hair out of your face.

You tried to read her face, wondering if she wanted this as much as you did. But your thoughts were cut off once she slammed her lips against yours. You never imagined this would be how your first kiss with Emily would go, but you weren't complaining.

The kiss was everything you dreamed of, it felt like you were high from her touch. Emily ran her tongue along your lip, slightly pushing her tongue into your mouth. You let her take full control of you, as you knew she would win either way.

You felt her hand trail down your stomach, and under your shirt. Her fingers danced along your chest, getting closer to your breasts. You were glad she was holding onto your waist, because you felt your legs lose feeling.

As her hand grazed your nipple through your bra, you slightly moaned against her lips, making her smirk. Emily pulled back, leaving sloppy kisses along your neck. You leaned your head back against the door, and Emily pushed your legs apart with her knee.

Her knee pressed against you where you needed her most, her hands all over you, her sloppy wet kisses along your neck. God you wish she would fuck you, even if it meant in this public, and dirty bathroom.

Your hands found her hair, and you gripped it tightly as she slid her hands under your bra. You pressed yourself against her knee as she pinched your nipples, as you needed more friction.

You couldn't help but let out a moan, but it only made Emily let out a low chuckle against your neck. As you used her knee to pleasure yourself, and her working your breasts, you couldn't help but let out low moans.

You were too focused on Emily that you didn't hear a knock, "are you two in there?" You heard your dad's voice. Emily used one of her hands to cover your mouth, and with the other, she kept pinching your nipple.

"Yes, just had to use the bathroom. We'll be out in a second." Emily responded, keeping her eyes on you. The risk of being caught only turned you on more.

"Ok. Just wanted to make sure you hadn't left." You heard his muffled voice. Once you two heard his footsteps leave, she removed her hand from your mouth.

Emily immediatly slammed her lips back onto yours, and you moaned against her lips. You felt her smile against your lips, but then she stopped touching you, and she moved her knee.

As she pulled away from the kiss, you whined from the loss of contact. "Don't be too disappointed. I want to take you out to dinner before I fuck you senseless, and plus, I'm not going to make you sit on a dirty ass sink."

You smiled, pulling her into another kiss. "It's a date then." You mumbled against her lips.

#emily prentiss #x reader #criminal minds #smut #emily x reader #paget brewster #one shot #alcohol #making out #fan fiction #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss x reader #fics

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spenzitz · 1 year

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VALENTINE'S DAY (dazai edition)

dazai isn't really into valentines day dazai x gn!reader, pre-relationship,

a/n ~ if you read this, you are now my valentines, ily ( ◜◒◝ )♡ words ~ 1.1K first post for my little valentines bsd 'event' thing (´･ᴗ･`)♡

dazai isn't really one for holidays. i doubt he keeps track of the days at all. so when valentines day rolls around, he isn't really all that conscience of it. sure, he sees flowers for sale on every corner and heart decorations everywhere, so he knows it's coming, but he doesn't really care when or how soon.

"aren't you going to get y/n anything?" atsushi asks innocently, dragging dazai out of his thoughts. the two were sitting in their regular booth at cafe uzumaki, resting after a long and tedious job. dazai stares absent-mindedly out the window and responds with a bored tone, "and why would I do that?"

atsushi looked at him blankly for a moment before saying, "well, I thought you liked them??" the boy waited eagerly for a response, staring at him, but dazai gave nothing. just a sigh as he turned his attention to his coffee.

"well, maybe you're just friends, and I'm making assumptions, but I don't think people talk about their friends the way you talk about them." atsushi spats, pouting and entirely done with dazai's bull shit.

this grabs dazai's attention. he grins and looks up at atsushi. "would you look at that. we might make a detective out of you yet."

atsushi smiles and lets out a sigh. he's not completely satisfied with the response, but he also has no patience left to push him further.

now that atsushi has given up, dazai decides he has no reason to defend his barely kept secrets. "let's say I did feel a lot for y/n. wouldn't something from me, on valentines day, just seem like a joke to them?" he's smiling at atsushi, but his tone is somber. he genuinely feels like he has no options, atsushi realizes.

when valentines day does roll around, dazai comes in to work fashionably late as he does every morning. he's lightly scolded by kunikida, just like every morning. kunikida starts telling dazai about a job the president wants them to take, but dazai isn't listening. since he strolled in, everything was a blur.

from the outside, dazai looked apathetic and unamused as always. but you saw his eyes change when he saw the envelope on his desk with his full name handwritten.

"Osamu Dazai"

everyone else had to wonder who it was from, but dazai was analytical, he knew your handwriting. he'd sat with you, distracting you from finishing paperwork at least a hundred times.

he takes a seat at his desk across from you, still calm and collected, ignoring kunikida. he opens the envelope and is immediately overcome by a wave of scent. your signature scent. just in case he hadn't caught your handwriting.

it's a handwritten letter, nothing special, just lined paper written on with a scratchy, cheap, ballpoint pen. the same kinds of pens you loved because they were, "reliable, professional but not too pretentious, and you wouldn't be upset if you lost them because they come in packs of 20."

kunikida had stopped his scolding by this point, and atsushi had noticed the handwritten letter, darting his eyes up at you, who seemed to be stealing glances at dazai.

atsushi, now thinking of himself as a wingman, suddenly stands up, grabbing you and kinukida's attention. "h-hey, mr. kunikida! do you think you could help me with the printer?!?" he practically blurts out. "smooth," dazai thinks.

"the printer?" kunikida starts, looking at atsushi confused. "i've already shown you multiple times, and you've done it on your own before, I think you can handle a printer atsu-"

"p-please help me, sir!" atsushi begs, stiffly. kunikida groans and stands up. pushing in his chair, he says, "fine, but this is the last time I'm doing this." atsushi follows kunikida to the printers, very proud of himself, and you try to hold in your chuckles.

pretending to go back to work, you remain aware of dazai as he scans your every stroke on the lined paper.

"Dazai,

I know you don't care much for holidays, so this probably seems silly to you. However, after much teasing from Ranpo and Yosano, I've decided there are a few things I want to tell you.

Simply put, I really enjoy spending time with you. You can be cryptic as hell, but it only makes it all the more satisfying when I put the pieces together.

You've made me look forward to the long nights in the office, finishing up paperwork. It's when you're tired, and you drop just enough of your façade for me to get a glimpse of who you are.

You are thoughtful and intelligent. I really like that about you."

you didn't sign the letter, he notes. not that you needed to, he would know who it's from.

dazai re-folds the paper and fans himself with it, enjoying the fragrance you left on it, wafting it towards his face. he looks directly at you, no side glances, just looks at you.

by this point, you've turned beat red, embarrassed and regretting every word you wrote. your head is turned down, staring intently at the piece of paper on your desk, as if it is going to help you get out of this situation you put yourself in. but dazai is a very impatient man.

"y/n?" he says with a smug tone as he shifts his gaze to the envelope and folds the paper back inside.

"dazai?" you respond nonchalantly. you keep staring at the paper, pretending to read it, but he sees right through you. it takes one look at you for him to conclude that you just wont budge.

"i think i'm simply too tired to work right now," he begins, putting the envelope in his coat jacket, which you don't miss. "care to join me for some morning coffee downstairs?"

you look up at him, still blushing, "actually, maybe you could use some tea? i hear it's good for calming your nerves." he adds with a wide smirk. you hear chuckles from being you, no doubt belonging to ranpo and yosano. was that kenji you heard as well?

"fine! fine!" you say, jolting out of your seat and pushing your chair in frantically. "but you're paying," you add, trying to hold onto any bit of dignity you can.

when you turn around to head to the door, you see practically the whole agency staring back at you with starry eyes and big smiles. all you can do is plant your face in your palms and walk towards the door. dazai swiftly strides in front of you to open the door, and you speed-walk through it, hearing them all burst out into a mix of "aww," "i knew it!" and "I told you so."

i get carried away with daz, what can i say (˃ᆺ˂✿)

masterlist

requests are open!

#dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #bsd x reader #dazai osamu x reader

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gloomylace · 2 months

Text

hii!! debunking cluvunies post because it is the SAME terrible excuse from their discord server! no tq, very long under cut. tw for rape && perhaps other things, be cautious

Establishing boundaries is hard, especially if you've been shut down multiple times. As well as the fact cluvunies had IGNORED previous attempts to establish boundaries. That's quite discouraging, ain't it? Plus other beings ignored my boundaries or just blatantly was an asshole about it. You wouldn't wanna keep trying if you were constantly ignored or hurt trying to do so, right?

The fact you never said anything about being an impulsive liar before is an issue as well. It's not hard to say 'I impulsively lie a lot, please don't believe everything I say.' But, you didn't do that and ended up causing more damage. Honestly, I don't even believe it's a lie. None of your stories ever add up. There's always contradicting information or pieces of the story missing. You also said something about doing things with your 11 year old cousin && turning the blame onto the little cousin? That's gross.

Pathological lying is not okay and that really really should be in your BYF or as a warning. Lying like that isn't okay especially since you could get in legal trouble for your lies. I could've easily told authorities that somebody was crushing on me and asking me sexual questions online but I didn't.

Also, asking sexual questions or anything like that is not okay. You never asked me, or anybeing else for that matter if it was okay. I am not okay with that, it makes me uncomfortable because I am a victim of sexual abuse && grooming myself. Sexual topics is not something I am comfortable with unless we're very close. As in like you've seen my face, heard my voice, etc.

Lying is not an excuse and it never will be. Lies aren't a justifiable reason for any of this. You can't justify half of this. You need to own up to the fact you've done some shitty things and apologize for it. You can't avoid this forever.

You also failed to mention the following: Your kokoa alter suddenly appearing after learning I was kokoa (&& all of my identity that they have basically taken from me, especially my typing quirk && editing style), your consistent trauma dumping on basically everybeing you talk to, especially me and another being, and you ignoring my boundaries on multiple occasions.

And again, establishing boundaries is hard. I get shut down every single time I try to && often try to hint at boundaries in other ways (showing a thing i made with the thing i'm uncomfy w mentioned && such), if I have something on my boundaries rentry (.co/smiled) it should be obvious if i'm okay with it or not, right?

Just 'wanting to see a reaction' is NOT an acceptable reason to do something. That's like bullying somebeing and then trying to justify it by saying 'I didn't mean it! I just wanted to see what would happen!!' Doesn't sound like a good reason, right? That's because it ISN'T a good reason.

Also, saying you'd want to die from r//pe is absolutely disgusting? I've been r//ped, it is not a fun thing nor is it something to wish to happen. It hurts physically and mentally. Wishing to be r//ped is not okay, especially if you haven't been r//ped at all before. If you haven't, you don't know how it feels both on your body and on your mind. Just because you're mentally hurting does not make that an okay thing to say. R//pe is never a fun thing.

You consistently avoid topics that make you seem bad to keep your image up. But you need to own up to the fact you messed up and stop avoiding it. Copy pasting a message from discord won't change anything. Please at least put some effort into it.

#Kisses。#important #please read #tw drama #cw drama #tw rap3 #tw rape #cw rape #cw rap3

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mskenway97 · 3 months

Note

Hello! Is it okay to request, a oneshot of TFA Blitzwing x (f!) Human Reader?

Reader that has a split or multiple personalities. they aren't involved with any bots/cons situations yet Reader is a close friend with Autobot's human friend/kid

Okay anon sorry if it took me a long time to show this request, I wanted to do some research when creating this request for you, I hope it is what you are looking for ^^

Tfa Blitzwing x Fem!human!reader

Change of side

Words: 990

Warning: kidnapping, multiple personalities, pet play, soft squeezes

Y/N had always been Sari's babysitter since the robots arrived in Detroit her work had diminished due to the problem of being near them could cause her to become the target.

Besides Y/N preferred to be involved as little as possible of them, just in case some of their personalities came out…. Y/N's treatment wasn't finished yet, she was lucky that taking care of Sari didn't have any problems, but the last few times those voices didn't leave her alone.

When her head allowed it she talked to Sari whenever she could until one day the little girl had told her to meet the autobots in person. Then she was already scared that one of their personalities would emerge… She feared for the craziest ones…. But it was hard to say no to an 8-year-old girl who had good debating manners and saying please all the time.

Y/N set off for the place Sari had told him about, an abandoned warehouse, it looked like a good place for some giant beings to hide. Y/N had a feeling that something was following her.

"Let it show itself" said a voice in her head.

"We are not helpless" said another voice.

Y/N walked faster to find another more secluded place to feel her mind was focused on a target but she was getting more and more scattered.

"Think about the techniques the therapist told you" thought Y/N as she tried to focus on something else.

-Y/N! - shouted someone causing her to shift her focus to see Sari approaching her with a smirk.

-Hey, how's my little girl… Sari? - Y/N said while giving her a hug.

"Sari?" he said again in his mind.

"Who is this little girl?" he said again different.

-Y/N? Are you ok? - asked the red-haired girl worriedly, Y/N shook her head as she nodded.

-Yes, yes everything is fine… You told me those cool robots are nearby, didn't you?

-Well they're my best friends, you'll like them, I think you'd fit in with Prowl you've always liked the calm and quiet or maybe with ratchet you two grunts are the same.

"That's not true!" said all the voices at once.

-I don't grunt all the time - said Y/N as he folded his arms making Sari laugh a little.

-Come on you'll like them in no time… Wait," said Sari as she led Y/N to another place.

Y/N was confused as she saw a jet transform into a tank near the area. Sari was stunned, she led Y/N to another part. I saw that the girl was a bit scared when she saw that vehicle.

"Is it one of your friends?" said a voice in her mind.

"we are running away it doesn't look like it" thought another voice.

-Sari, what's going on? - Y/N asked quietly as Sari saw her pick up the phone to see the tank chasing after them.

-It's Blitzwing, one of the bad guys I told you about! I've alerted the autobots to come as soon as possible… But don't worry, I have this," said Sari taking out the key.

"A key?" thought all the voices in her head.

Before Sari could do anything Y/N acted on another action of her head. Y/N had to get Sari out of here any way he could, before he saw the tank he had transformed into a robot where he shot to block their path with debris.

-Well, well… We got the autobots' mascot - said blitzwing in a happier voice.

-Plus we'll know his location in no time," said Blitzwing with a different face and a different voice.

-Eh? Sari, what's wrong with this guy? - asked Y/N confused.

-Let's say this guy has three personalities in one weird one don't you think? I will never tell you where my friends are! - said Sari as Blitzwing started to approach them.

"What do we do?"

"You should call the police."

"We'll be late."

"The girl is important."

"Be the hero."

Then you finally let go of the voices so that the giant being would focus on Y/N.

Hey, you piece of metal! You sure don't get me," said Y/N, leaving Sari surprised.

Blitzwing's face changed to an angry red one - How dare you piece of meat! You think you can hurt me? - said Blitzwing but he felt that Y/N was throwing stones at him all the time making him leave Sari and focus on Y/N.

Y/N ran as far as she could but was quickly caught by the jet-transformed robot that caught her in its servos.

-Now who caught you? - blitzwing said with a cold face.

Y/N smiled seeing that Sari had just escaped - I won, you idiot - said laughing making the bot squeeze her a little bit hurting her.

-You won't be laughing so hard after I crushed you! - said blitzwing while changing to another face.

-We can have fun with it! - said the funny face.

Not having time to react Y/N was taken to the Decepticons by Blitzwing, they smashed her phone and took her to a cell. One thing the Decepticons noticed was that she behaved differently every day: one day she was scared, another she was angry and another she was angry….

No one approached her thinking you were defective, except Blitzwing who found y/n more and more interesting.

She liked to watch you fight some and others you stayed so tame.

She kept you in her lap while she had you tied up. As he petted you, if he returned to Cybertron he would keep you all to himself.

He liked her changes, he felt y/n were moving.

-Easy, be a good girl and you'll get some more food," Blitzwing said as Y/N calmed down.

If he was starting to like this human, he would keep her forever.

#sam writes #transformers #transformers animated #blitzwing #tfa #tfa blitzwing #transformers x reader #transformers x human #maccadam #maccadams #tfa blitzwing x reader #g/t #giant/tiny #transformers g/t

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uncannily-adroit · 4 months

Text

the watch

eighth doctor x gn!reader

rating: g

warnings: none

a/n: i wrote this as a little comfort drabble for myself, i haven't written properly in over a year but i'm actually really pleased with this! eight certainly needs more love too <3

"Doctor, do you want me to wash your coat?"

He looks down at himself for the first time since he stepped foot outside the TARDIS. After a lively- or deathly, almost, in this case- adventure, his green velvet frock is covered in mud. He smiles a little, happy you noticed, because he probably wouldn't have until it was too late and there was dirt everywhere. "Thank you," he murmurs to you as he slips it off his shoulders. "Just empty the pockets, please."

You nod in response and head off, taking a few twists and turns down to where the laundry room usually is, setting the coat down on top of the washing machine to dig around in the nooks and crannies. You pull out his sonic screwdriver first- you set it aside to take back to him once you're done. Then a half-eaten paper bag of jelly babies. You swipe one- maybe two... maybe three, because that's the magic number. Then a yoyo, some lock picks, a spare TARDIS key in a funky shape on a ridiculously long chain, and lastly, a silver fob watch.

Something about it catches your attention. It's rather unassuming, honestly, a plain little thing, but you decide to open it anyways. The watch face is also pretty normal, but the noise that comes out of it isn't. Instead of ticking, you hear a tinkling sort of noise, like wind chimes. A pleasant chill runs down your spine, soothed in a deep way by it.

The Doctor's already made tea, yours waiting next to the comfy red chair, and he's preparing to start doing a bit of work on the TARDIS, making a move to grab his sonic screwdriver. He pats himself lightly multiple times, trying to find it, before he remembers he'd given you his coat. That makes him realize how long you've been gone. He figures you're wandering around one of the closets again; he found you one time practically submerged in a box of old scarves, happy as could be. He heads off in the direction of the laundry room, opting to check there first.

He finds you laying on the floor, thankfully with nothing wrong with you. Next to your ear lays his fob watch, open and playing its little songs. He can't help the smile that crosses his face. "What are you doing?"

"Vibing," you respond. "It's so pretty..."

He lets out a laugh on a breath and walks across the tile, settling himself on his back beside you. You look over at him and he meets your gaze, the smile still lingering on his face. His hair's spilling in his eyes; you push it away, and he captures your hand and presses a kiss to your palm before releasing you. "Do you want to know how I got that?" He nods his head at the time piece between you two. You nod. You always want to know more about him. You could listen to him for hours, and he can talk just as long. The chiming becomes background noise as he starts his story, still laid on the floor with you, the coat and sonic forgotten on top of the washing machine.

Eventually, your back does begin to hurt. You sit up, stretch and snap crackle pop. He grins, pleased by the sight of you from behind with an arched back. He follows suit, picking up the watch. He snaps it closed, looks at it for a moment, then takes your hand and presses it into your fingers, closing them around it. "Here. I've got plenty, and this one makes you happy. I'd like you to keep it."

Your heart skips a beat, fingers tightening around the cool metal and underneath his cold fingers. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

#dw #eighth doctor #eighth doctor x reader #eighth doctor/reader #the doctor/reader #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #im a little too obsessed with something thats only on screen for like five seconds

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archivalofsins · 4 months

Text

Hey, this isn't going to be a long post because I want to get back to playing Caligula Effect 2. However, confirmed that Double is mostly a dream with small snippets of reality while MeMe is reality with breaks into dreams. Also that the graphs we see displayed distortedly throughout Double are a polysomnography.

X X

"I’m probably just having a bad dream, I need to wake up soon." - "All I did was dream, and that’s what you found GUILTY? “He’s a liar”, you said, and made me out to be a scoundrel, why?"

So, let's talk about this for a bit.

all gifs made by @apatchworkstar

So, in Caligula Effect 2 there's a heavy focus on the meaning of the word dream. It's highlighted multiple times that a dream can be something you have at night while sleeping or refer to something you want to do in the future. So, throughout double the word dream itself even has a double meaning.

I think that when John states all he did was dream contextually he's referring to the dreams one has when they sleep. I believe this because the structure of Double as I stated before is more dream like than MeMe. Though I have another pertinent reason for believing this outside of that. Let's discuss the telltale signs of a dream displayed throughout Double first.

1. Takes place mainly in one location.

Unlike MeMe where we change locations frequently. From the underpass to the inside of their home, to the dumping area outside of their home, to their bathroom. Double is limited to the train station and the train only. Despite seeing John commuting he never makes it home or to work. He is confined to this location.

2. Seemingly endless terrains. (Never-ending passages or areas that seem to go on forever.)

3. Partial literacy or none. (Not everyone can read within dreams but those who can rarely can read the same thing twice. Instead the words will either keep changing or go blank.)

People who can read in dreams are pretty rare. They tend to be in communications based professions or writers.

CAN YOU READ IN YOUR DREAMS? SCIENCE REVEALS WHY MOST PEOPLE CAN'T

There are also other things that can't be done in dreams according to other sources.

That are helpful when it comes to differentiating between reality and dream in Mikoto's case. Also bringing more scrutiny to John's statements during the interrogation where he claims they attacked random strangers on the street an impossibility if it was really a dream like they both claim. We see in Double that none of the people have faces, they're all mannequins.

Since John stated he attacked some stranger it makes sense for everyone in Double to appear this way because in dreams you can't really just create a full ass person that you've never seen before. So, this makes everyone in John's version of events a stranger to him. However, you know where that's definitely not the damn case.

In MeMe where we see this guy plain as day-

As Mikoto does a very physical activity. However, this is a good time to interject- Dreams are very personalized.

Personal anecdote. I once had a dream when I was in a bookstore, and I was browsing around. I'd read a book I'd liked but I was unsure if I wanted to really commit to purchasing it but there was limited time was there with others, I had like twenty minutes at most, and I'd looked at a clock just to see what time that'd be. When I went to skim the book again it was blank. Then I looked at the clock and it was blank too. I was in high school at the time and had already looked into information around dreams and became acutely aware I was which led to a bit of lucid dreaming before I woke up. In other dreams I've been in fights, used weapons etc. even ran for a good while.

So, yeah, I've done physical activities in my dreams before, and I've seen people I know and have never known in my dreams too. It's different for everyone.

Yet, it's still valid to question-

Why would Double something primarily from John's perspective follow the rules of dreams more than Mikoto's?

If what they did was just a dream, then those rules should be applicable to both songs not just one.

It's not as though all of MeMe just shows the reality of the situation either. In fact, dream and reality are more neatly separated within their first trial song. Something that is displayed by one of those things listed. The inability to look in mirrors.

And being confined to one place regardless of how it changes over the course of the video.

So, yes there are very logical ways to discern between what is a dream and what is reality within Mikoto's trial songs. Milgram has done nothing to hide this. They even further displayed this by putting dream in large font for all to see over most of double.

Yet what's the other thing that makes me so sure that when John is discussing dreaming, he's discussing the dreams you have while sleeping and Mikoto is discussing dreams for the future?

For one Mikoto is specifically paired with the woman who sings this-

"Is the damage to get in the way of someone’s dream."- "If it damaged someone’s dream to the points of stopping it I’ll gouge you out with my fangs."

So chances are a part of the reason they were connected is because they lashed out due to someone gettting in the way of their personal goals and dreams. Yet there's also the fact he plainly fucking states what his dream was in his written trial one interrogation.

Q.04 Are you picky when it comes to fashion?

Mikoto: Of course I am. Nobody would want to ask for anything from an unfashionable designer, right?

06 What do you hate?

Mikoto: working overnight / reptiles / violence

Q.14 Where do you think you’ll be in 10 years?

Mikoto: It’d be nice if I could build up my own self-sustaining design business. That’d be pretty liberating.

"Hey now, I saved you, right? So why in the hell are you crying? Cling to me, hoist me up as your “savior”, stand up and sing out your gratitude, that’d be good."

Mikoto even uses similar verbage to that used in his first written interrogation when asked about these things in the lyrics of Double. Such as right, and that'd be good.

So, yeah there's all that.

#milgram #mikoto kayano

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colderdrafts · 11 months

Text

9: Back to the scene of the crime

Underground visitor, gn reader x monster (male drider). Sfw (mild suggestive). Previous Next

You're up and about before the crack of dawn, awoken by the sound of Dren gently calling your name.

The sun has yet to rise as you leave the cave out into the fresh morning air, suppressing a yawn. Since Dren insists trades are best done at sunrise, you'll have to make do with an odd daily rhythm you've yet to grow accustomed to.

You re-adjust the satchel at your side, a small clink escaping it from the crystals you’ve gathered that's nestled within.

The scent of the forest outside mixed with the crisp cold of autumn air is refreshing, however, and the stars still twinkle beautifully. It's been a while since you've seen them so clearly, back at home they would have been lost to light pollution. Are these the same stars that you're used to seeing? You can't seem to find the constellations you're familiar with. Perhaps you can get some books on the topic, if you ever learn to read here.

"They are rather pretty, aren't they?" Dren’s voice reaches you, speaking like he was just reminded.

He exits the cave, following your gaze upwards.

Two satchels rest at his sides tied over his back, containing items he intends to trade. The basket keeping his eggs is safely clutched between two middle legs, and hidden away under his abdomen. He's spun a tough thread around it and tied it to himself, ensuring taking it from him will be neigh impossible. Alongside the two satchels it's pretty inconspicuous, and well camouflaged. If you didn't know what was in it, you would probably take it for just another piece he intends to sell.

Dren stretches, moving his lower body back and forth, arms above his head. It's fascinating watching the way the spiders lower body and torso move simultaneously together, yet seemingly independent of one another. From his spine comes a slight pop.

"It has been a long time since I've ventured outside more than once in succession like this," he notes, yawning. His mandibles stretch at an odd angle as he does so. "You are re-introducing me to things I have forgotten."

"It'll probably be good for you to go outside, then,” you chuckle, still looking at him move. “Sorry for all the hazzle, though.”

"None of that," he smiles, waving it off. “This is necessary. We’ll all be fine.”

The darkness of the forest seem quite less eerie this morning, the sounds of the night gradually diminishing at the sun slowly creeps over the horizon, light bringing about the new day. It's a foreign, yet welcome, experience, to catch the first singing voices of the early birds, a gentle beginning of everything awakening.

You fill the silence with idle talking as you go, Dren telling you some stories of his life before he settled here. He's had quite a few temporary homes until he found this one, settling because of it's advantageous placement and differentiating between soil and rock in the system that makes for ‘excellent exploration and expansion possibilities’. It's the first place he's had where he had full artistic freedom to do with as he saw fit. His second brood were hatched here, and left a few years ago.

"You've been alone since then?" you ask.

"I have,” he says. The satchel on his back groans slightly as he moves. “Days pass by fast, though, if you know how to keep busy."

“So you've never lived with anyone else before?”

“I have not.”

“Not even a sentry?”

“Not even,” he says, slightly amused at your continued curiosity.

“Really? I just figured, since you’ve multiple eggs.”

“I’ve been lucky, mostly. I did extensive preparation work to remain hidden come winter, and it payed off. I’ve seen signs of hunters intruding once I awoke from hibernation, but none have had luck to find me. Or them,” he adds, pulling slightly at the basket under his abdomen. He thinks for a moment. “My father had a sentry, though.”

Another human? “He did? What was that like?”

He frowns, bringing the memories back to the front of his consciousness.

“Safe,” he settles on, a bit wistful. “They had quite a powerful bond, my father and him - Jonas, was his name. I remember seeing him staring at me with this look of pure joy the moment my eyes opened. I knew what he was the second I saw him - that he was reason I got to hatch that spring, that I got a chance at living.”

A solemn silence settles as Dren replays the memories in his mind.

“I can imagine why that would feel safe. Do you miss them?” you inquire, in case he needs support to voice the thoughts.

Dren shakes his head, and any trace of sentimentality leaves with the movement. “No. When it is time to leave, it is time to leave. We sever our connection with them then and there. We do not gain anything missing them, so we do not," he explains. He glances at you. "If I met my father now? At best, we would ignore each other and be on our way. At worst, we would get in a fight."

You have a hard time believing that, but perhaps that has to do with your understanding of how a parental relationship is supposed to work.

Surely, there must be some sense of longing for a person who have been so impactful on your life, and presumably so in a positive way? “What about Jonas?”

That makes him pause. He looks ahead for a moment, considering. “I would thank him, and leave him be.”

There's no trace of longing or remorse in the way he speaks, he simply states it as a fact, showing no emotional connotation to it whatsoever.

It is quite baffling.

“Your kind have an odd way at looking at relations," you tell him.

“I can imagine your kind would think so,” he replies.

The sun is peeking up over the horizon the moment you reach the outskirts of the forest, and the landscape blends into the small town that makes the marketplace.

You have to mentally prepare yourself to leave the protective cover of trees over the hill you know will bring you back there. Despite Dren’s reassurances, it seems like ill advice to go back so soon.

Even if your stomach is angrily protesting its rather limited option for sustenance these past few days.

Though it seems indeed most of the things that were knocked over have somehow returned to their original state, no worse for wear. It's rather striking, considering the destruction you bore witness to a fortnight ago. Common-folk seem to have very efficient carpentry indeed, apparently accustomed to such brutalities.

You’ve fallen into step with Dren, and the way he walks next to you here is different from back at the cave. He’s keeping a pace that perfectly matches yours, letting you step in front to his left. The pedipalp there is close, but not touching, and you sense his legs moving behind you. The proximity has an oddly reassuring effect.

People around you seem to snap to attention as you move closer, though, not doing much to soothe your nerves. A soft chitter behind you tries to remind you there’s no need to be on edge. It's still early, and it's mostly only vendors here and a few customers up and about. Perhaps coming here early and avoiding the worst of the crowd is a good strategy.

Once accustomed to your presences, common-folk move out of your way to let you pass without further issue - you don't sense exactly the same amount of tension from them walking next to Dren as you did Morgan. Perhaps Dren has a different reputation?

You find the market can be almost pleasant to experience when your anxiety is not running high and activity is more subdued. There's an upbeat energy here, and the noises of common-folk bustling and idle chatter brings a mood to the place that is almost fun to indulge in. It’s hard not to be swept away by the different smells and sights, and entirely new world opening up to you. Now that you’re not fearing for yourself, you have the emotional surplus to do so.

You end up actually communicating with a few of the strange patrons - not that you have much choice in the matter. Seemingly they're more comfortable talking to you, rather than Dren. Whenever you approach a stall you're the first to be addressed, as though you're the only one here calling the shots. Dren waits patiently while you ask questions and barter for items, only stepping in when you're unsure of a norm or missing a social cue.

It’s a contrast to how they were more stand-offish with you the last time you were here. Perhaps they're more at ease when they can actually see your 'bodyguard'.

You had planned to only be here for the morning and then get out, but you become so engrossed with this odd town you end up spending several hours here, being introduced to a multitude of items and people, experiencing a completely different culture.

You catch on to haggling quite quick, at times something for the same thing works, other times you use the crystals. You gain food items, more spare clothing your size, straw for Dren's creative projects and more.

On a whim, you also pick up a bag full of assorted wildflower and vegetable seeds. You still don't know how long you're staying here for, and having something to do outside might be grounding. Otherwise, it's fuel to counter boredom in case Dren needs a new hobby - it still has to do with soil, though less maddening than carving the walls for months on end.

“Oh, that’s an interesting one,” Dren says suddenly, gently nudging you and pointing.

His attention is caught by a particular booth it seems, a stall full of books. Without skipping a beat he practically drags you over there, almost startling the patron, a fox-person, with the head-on approach.

He stares through the collection meticulously, one by one picking books up, inspecting them with care, and putting them into two piles.

You look over at what he’s sorting – seemingly a pile for 'interesting' and one for 'not interesting'. You pick up a few and flip through the 'interesting' ones. While you can’t read the titles, the first few pages have images that can give you a clue. It seems Dren has an affinity for non-fiction.

"I wouldn't have taken you for such a nerd," you laugh, watching him excitedly flip through some sort of anatomy book.

"What is a ‘nerd’?" he asks, looking up at you over the cover.

Oh. How exactly to describe that multipurpose terminology? "Someone who likes to collect a bunch of knowledge, I guess?"

"I see,” he says, mentally adding it to his vocabulary. “Then yes, I am indeed a nerd."

Dren turns to start haggling for a price with the fox-like patron, who seems very much inclined to not agree. You leave him to it with a chuckle, and turn to see if anything else would be interesting to look at.

You've half turned away when suddenly you feel it.

Subtle, but very much there, the tiniest pull of a string that has somehow tied itself to your core and refuses to let go. You don't even need to turn to look.

You know they're somewhere nearby, and dread washes over you like a shower of sewer sludge.

The distracting sounds of the marketplace turn to a faint muttering as you turn the other way to stare directly at what is causing the feeling. You could tell exactly where they were.

Next to a house, partially hidden behind the side of a wall, stands Morgan.

They’re far away, but in broad daylight the silhouette of their gangly limbs, lean body and uncanny features is unmistakable. They’re bent slightly forward and covered in protective webbing.

Injured, but alive.

It’s too far to see their expression clearly, but there’s no doubt in your mind they’re staring directly back at you.

The cord in your chest tightens, begging you to step closer to lessen the tension brought by this distance between you. To counter it, you try to back up to will it away, get closer to the one who usually alleviates the unpleasant sensation.

You see their silhouette reach out toward you, slowly, testing. It looks like they’re grabbing something in the air.

When they do a tug, like pulling on an invisible rope, you promptly take several quick steps toward them without meaning to. Your body responded before your mind did, completely beyond conscious thought.

Your heart starts racing again as you stare back at them, sounds of the bustling plaza gone from your senses, despite you now standing in the middle of the stream of common-folk walking past you, alone in the middle of a crowd. The only thing noticeable is the little connection that’s being toyed with.

Morgan waves at you, and you can’t tell if it’s a greeting or a taunt. Perhaps it's both. Somehow you know that they’re smiling.

When something gently grasps you you gasp, the disturbance severing whatever spell you were under as you rapidly turn to look. Sound gradually returns to your senses as your eyes meet the obsidian of Dren’s.

“-ere you are! Are you alright?” Dren asks, staring down at you in alarm as he takes in your expression. The warmth of his palm seeps into your shoulder as he frowns at what he finds. “Do we need to go?”

You mentally cling to the feeling of his heat, and dare look back toward the building. Morgan is gone. Something deep inside you aches from their absence.

Why don’t you try following, then?

“Yes,” you breathe, swallowing hard. “Yes, I think we need to go right now.”

“Understood,” Dren says, hauling up the items, and haphazardly throwing payment at the fox he was haggling with. “This is sufficient,” he informs them with a potent stare, claws clicking on the ground.

The fox doesn’t argue.

“You're okay to walk?” Dren asks, returning his attention to you and gently nudging you in the direction toward the exit.

“Yeah,” you huff, doing your best to shake it off, not wanting them to get under your skin again. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

You leave the marketplace the same way you came, shivering from the sudden cold seeping through your body again. The urge to vomit doesn’t leave you until you’re back in the forest, safely hidden beneath the canopy above.

You unload the items in silence after your return.

The trip back was mostly uneventful, and despite the scare, the quest was successful. You managed to acquire supplies and items you set out to acquire, and Dren managed to pick up some new items for his book collection. No snatchers, no quarreling, and the eggs have remained where they were, safely tucked under Dren's abdomen. Since no one dares even come near him, you'd be surprised if anyone even noticed they were there.

Dren hasn't pushed you for answers on what happened yet, but you can tell he's struggling to keep back his questions. Your reaction has awakened his need to identify an unperceived threat as fast as possible, so that he may dispatch it.

His respect for your privacy, however, seems to triumph in this case, as he leaves you be to return his eggs after unloading most of his things in the living room and library.

He's cleared a space in the living room close to the ground to serve as a pantry, and leaves the shelving of food items to you, and you sort them as best as you can.

You take the items you've bought for yourself - some more spare clothes, a fabric to use as a towel, a small cooking pot and a small brush that may suffice for your teeth - and bring them to your sleeping pod.

And then you hurry back to the living room, eager to try out some of the new items you’ve gathered.

You set up the cooking pot on the fireplace, and get to work chopping up dried ingredients to cook for dinner.

Dren joins you again here, and sits across from you on the floor, watching you work. He still doesn't speak, but seems very engrossed with what you're doing, black eyes glinting with curiosity.

You look him over.

"Careful, dude. Your eyes will dry out if you keep them open and staring like that," you tease.

He blinks, as if heeding your warning. "Pardon. It is rather interesting watching you work."

"Never seen anyone cook before?"

"Not like this.”

He stands up, and walks over to stand next to you operating the small pot close to the fireplace, taking your engaging as an invitation. He leans in over your shoulder to get a better look. The proximity makes so that you can sense his body heat behind you, and you almost lean back to close the rest of the distance.

"Tell me what you’re doing?" he asks, intrigued.

His low voice ghosts across the side of your face and makes you shudder. You don't know if he caught it, but he doesn't move, save for a low chitter. You begin explaining your process at once to distract yourself from it.

He mainly hums in acknowledgment of what you tell him, just standing close and watching what you're doing, gently stirring the pot. It is rather distracting, and you put effort into not acknowledging the proximity. You can’t tell if he’s trying to tease you, or if he’s just genuinely invested in learning how you do this.

Eventually, a pleasant savory smell permeates the living room from your cooking, and you excuse yourself from the closeness to pull up a portion for yourself.

Though when you offer Dren a portion, he politely declines, settling in his usual spot across from you.

"I have my own pantry to feed from," he says. "This should only be for you."

"Oh come on, I didn't spend an hour learning on the fly to cook over an open fireplace, just to eat the fruits of my labor alone," you insist, plopping down on your sheepskin.

"Your labor, your 'fruits'," Dren says. "Please eat something now. You need the energy."

It’s the first real meal you've had in days. You can physically feel your body thanking you for this new supply of vitamins.

The silence stretches thin in the way it does when there's yet another elephant in the room to be addressed. There's a knot in your throat that doesn't want to, like speaking things out loud will make them real. It makes you hesitate to speak it at all. Dren's been giving you space to think things through, and you've already kept him in the dark long enough.

You finish your food, and give in to his undivided attention.

"I saw them today," you share, finally. "They're alive."

Dren just hums in acknowledgment, presumably he already had a feeling of what happened. Still, he does deflate a little in disappointment.

"I thought that might be the case," he sighs. "You were reacting in much the same way as the first day we were there. You are aware that I will not let them come near you again?"

"I know," you nod. "Just - I wish that wasn't necessary. It’s weird. It’s like I can still feel them – like they can influence me, even from afar.”

Dren's eyes darken. He speaks with a growl. "Hm. I should dispatch them for sure next time so they can't."

"What - no!" you protest with a chuckle. "No need for murder, dude."

You took it lightly, usually a friend can joke on violently getting rid of a problem, and it's not the first time you've heard a comment like that.

But Dren doesn't look like he's having fun. And you realize from the intense focus in his eyes that the sentiment was perfectly serious.

"Otherwise we risk them keeping coming for you," he says, a little softer. "I will not tolerate it."

You swallow a small lump in your throat. There's no doubt in your mind he can and will do so - he has before, after all. To him, it's very simple. There's a problem, you get rid of it.

Permanently.

"Don't do that," you say.

"Why not?"

"I don't like it when you do that."

"Kill?" he asks, curious. "I don't understand why you are against protecting your own."

"I'm not, it's just -," you falter, struggling to find the words. "Where I'm from we don't usually go to extremes to do so. We don't - kill. Ever."

He looks completely baffled by that statement. "Then how do you - you said you still have many violent disputes? How do you settle them without dispatching each other?"

"Well, we - hm. I guess sometimes we don't. We do kill and hurt each other. All the time."

"I don't understand. You don't, but you do?"

"It's - we do it when someone thinks it's necessary?"

"As do I. Why is this any different?" Dren asks. He is eerily still.

It's a fair question. Why is it any different? Because you know them now? Because it'd feel like your fault if they were to die? Because you can't distance yourself from a life lost when it's connected to you?

"Do you not want them to perish?" he adds after a beat, hesitant. "Is that why?"

The thought still makes your body shiver. Like you can't allow yourself to even entertain the thought of them gone, despite them still being nothing but a creepy stranger to you. If it sends all of your nerves on edge from just the thought, you don't care to think what it would be like if it actually happened. You don't know if your heart could take the pain, no matter how much you don't want to even have that pain.

"I don't know," you admit. "I don't like to think someone died because of me. Even if it's them - even if they're dangerous."

It's not untrue, but it's not the full truth either. Dren doesn't give any clue as to whether he knows, but he considers your words carefully.

"They're not threatening only you, unfortunately. And while that on it's own is enough to warrant my wrath, it means I cannot afford any risk. Though if it pains you, I will not hunt them deliberately," he offers. "If they keep their distance, I will keep mine."

There's a definite warning but hidden in there somewhere, though he chooses not to voice it. You give him the grace of not having to as you nod, accepting the offer.

He's right to remind you it might not be only you who could be in danger. If Dren were to perish, so would his offspring. This world is not yours. You can't expect him to not do what he feels necessary if they get close again.

"Thank you. And sorry I didn't think of that. I'll make sure to keep that in mind."

He smiles, grateful you show understanding. "I realize all of this may be.. different, for you, but there are certain ways things work here. Sometimes I will have to do unpleasant things to keep me and mine alive, and I will not hesitate to do them. I hope you will not think less of me for it."

"What? No way," you laugh. "I get it a little better now, I think. Besides, you're a good guy, Dren. If I hadn't tumbled upon you first I'd be dead or worse by now. I couldn't think less of you if I wanted to."

He chitters quietly at your words. "I'll try to keep it that way."

In the evening you go back up at the lake to wash off the grime from today's troubles, and find Dren already there, fully soaked in the water and washing his face. You're about to mutter an apology and turn around to give him some privacy, but he just waves and motions for you to join before you do so.

"You don't need to leave," he says, slightly confused. "There's plenty of room."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

"You're not, not to worry.”

He leans down and pulls his hair through the water, rinsing it out, politely leaving it up to you whether you stay or go. You note he’s taken the webs off his skin, presumably to clean out the still fresh wounds. The soft glow of the lanterns hanging from the ceiling illuminates the places where his skin was slashed open and sore - there’s a nasty bruise almost square in the middle of his chest, and several scrapes and cuts running over his arms and torso. You frown, still feeling guilty. After all, he got them because he was defending you.

At least they’re not bleeding anymore.

He looks back at you when you still haven’t moved. “Ah. Could it be that I'm making you uncomfortable?"

“No, no,” you reassure, and step closer. “I was spacing out, just checking your wounds. They look like they’re healing okay.”

“They are. Luckily that one wasn’t too experienced a fighter. Strong, quick, but they need to work on their aim,” he says, inspecting a superficial scrape on his arm.

“You had time to reflect on that while you were fighting?” you chuckle.

“I’m faster than them. I had time to enjoy a morning tea if I so did desire,” he huffs, wringing out his hair.

You grin at the bold confidence, and approach the edge of the lake, pulling off your shirt and discarding your boots. Dren doesn’t even glance up at your state of undress, so you can surmise that if he doesn’t care, then neither should you.

Once down to your undergarments, you step into the water, and try to suppress a shuddering whine from how cold it is. You aren’t successful, and Dren looks humored at your displeasure.

“You’ll adjust to it soon enough,” he teases, returning his attention to the cut on his leg.

“Yeah, yeah. Not like you have an unfair advantage with natural armor or anything,” you grumble at him, gingerly stepping out until the water level reaches your chest. “Eugh. This is horrible. Are you aware this is horrible?” you ask, starting the arduous process of cleaning yourself with very, very cold water.

There’s a soft splash as Dren lowers himself into the water so that his torso gets submerged to the same level as yours is, without skipping a beat. He doesn't say anything, but the message is clear.

“Show-off,” you mutter.

He chuckles.

There’s something oddly domestic about cleaning off next to each other, rinsing off the day’s activities in communal silence. Soon enough you’re adjusted to the temperature and can move about comfortably. Dren has settled almost in the middle of the lake and looking your way with a calm expression, perhaps just enjoying being submerged and the gentle sounds of water being moved.

“Who taught you to fight?” you ask after a while.

He blinks, apparently taking a second to zone back in before responding. “To fight? My siblings. Well. We taught each other. And then I’ve had practice as I grew.” “You did training together?”

“Something like that,” he muses. “We had to survive each other somehow. Scrapping was frequent, and our father encouraged the behavior. The quicker we learn to defend ourselves, the better. Best to learn by trial and error under guidance of one who won’t let the fight turn fatal.”

You frown at him. “It could?”

“If we don’t leave the nest once we turn old enough, yes. I left pretty early, once I was certain of my movement and capability to fend for myself. We mature emotionally at the same pace as you do, but our lower half ensures we can provide for ourselves from a very young age.”

You glance at him, slightly concerned. “So, you’re telling me you had to learn everything but fighting on your own?”

“I did,” he nods, unaffected. “It seems it’s different for you?”

“Some of my skills are self-taught, sure,” you give. “But as kids we rely on adults to look after us and give guidance until we are grown up ourselves. It’s pretty damn traumatizing for a human kid to be without a trusted adult to take care of them.”

“Interesting,” Dren says, intrigued. “If we run into any adult as younglings, we run the risk of them killing us.”

You gape at him. “What?”

“Less competition and 'danger' if we never reach an adult stage,” he shrugs. “We learn by watching others in secret, remaining hidden until we’re big enough to discourage confrontation. I was well past my adolescent years the first time I spoke to another common-folk.”

He squints, recalling the memory. “I had learned words, but not how to speak them. I think I scared the poor fellow with my incomprehensible rambling.”

“Dude, that’s so messed up,” you inform him. “Why is it like that? Are you okay?”

He gives you an odd look. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be? I’m alive, aren’t I? I learned, grew. Became an adult. I’m one of the lucky ones.”

“Lucky-!” you scoff at him.

You have half a mind to walk over to him to give him a proper scolding on how that is, definitely, not what luck is. Though you find quickly the depths of the water are deceptive, fooled by Dren currently sitting and his torso sticking out at a comfortable height, so you don’t get far before the water is up to your shoulders.

Dren looks at you in concern, standing up and reaching toward you. “Don’t go deeper if you can’t swim!”

You grin at how his safeguarding returns like that of a mother hen, taking a step back to alleviate his anxiety. “Hm, looks like I miscalculated. Could you come over here so I can knock some sense into you, please?” you ask.

Dren snorts, painfully aware of his overreaction, lowering his arms.

“'Knock some sense into me?' Could you clarify what sense I am lacking, and why it requires knocking?” he asks, though makes his way toward you.

There it is again, that feeling that makes you root into place when he's calmly stepping closer. Something about the head-on approach just make you want to stop moving, and you can't exactly pinpoint why. Perhaps it's the same reason a bug should keep still when stuck in a web.

Though it's not intimidation as much as a want to let him get nearer.

You still easily find your words as you narrow your eyes at him. “You clearly have had a very, very rough time in your life, and you’re waving it off like it’s nothing. I want you to know it’s not nothing, and you shouldn’t treat it like that.”

He stops short in front of you, towering over you and staring down. Hair wet and plastered to his face, it reminds you of the first time you saw him. Though now, his eyes are calm, his posture relaxed and there’s a faint smile on his lips. And your heart rate is not picking up because you’re afraid.

He leans down again, his face close to yours. “It’s in the past, and I’m an adult now. It doesn’t affect me anymore,” he reassures you, voice soft. “Thank you for being concerned for me. Now please take some more steps back before a current swipes you under.”

“I can swim, you know,” you grin at him, but still move back a bit. “Still a worry-wart, I see.”

“Can you really blame me?” he asks, casually following along, causing ripples in the water as he moves. “You almost vanished today.”

You sigh, and reach out to take one of his hands in yours. He stares down at the contact point, and you give it a squeeze to regain his attention. “Sorry for scaring you.”

He shakes his head, still stepping with you to keep the proximity. “I should be the one apologizing for that.”

“So we’re both scary,” you offer with a shrug. “Just in different ways.”

“You are terrifying indeed,” he sighs.

His other hand comes up to carefully engulf your fingers, and you wonder if this is to keep himself from fidgeting again. Your first instinct is to take the comment as a joke, but the solemn tone makes you think perhaps there’s a truth to it. You're still slowly going backwards, and it's hard to tell whether you're being urged or he's being led.

“Oh, come on, you can’t be scared of me,” you joke, voice a little smaller. “I’m just a big ol’ softie.”

It takes a while for your brain to register you’re back at the bank of the lake, but suddenly you plop back to sit on the rocky edge, your calves still submerged in the water. Dren keeps pushing forward, though. Slow and measured, as if giving himself time to gauge your response. And for you to think of one.

He’s getting awfully close, but you don’t think to stop him. Instead, you give his hands a slight tug to invite him.

He settles in front of you, close enough to stand in between your legs completely up against you. You can feel pedipalps carefully curling around your waist. He leans in over you, and you sense movement as front spindly legs comes to a rest on either side of you.

The familiar warmth engulfs you, and you’re completely caged in.

“I quite like soft things,” he mutters, black eyes staring down at you from behind the stray locks of hair partially hiding his face.

Your face heats up at the comment, and this proximity makes your nerves stand on edge. You pray it isn’t noticeable. Is he aware what he’s doing right now? Dren’s continued stare isn’t doing much to inform you. He simply remains quietly standing over you.

You reach upward and gently push some strands of hair away to get a better look at him, taking in the strange features. Most noticeable are the completely black eyes that always seem to draw you in, as if you would vanish if he looked away. He leans his face into your hands, and you end up cupping his chin.

“You don’t need to hide,” you inform him quietly.

He hums, expression shifting to convey nothing short of pure adoration. The pedipalps around your waist tightens their grip just a fraction. He leans further into you and rubs his face against your cheek, breathing deeply. “I know. Force of habit.”

You’re about to lose balance and fall backwards if he keeps pushing, so you reach over to hold onto him, feeling the warmth under his skin blossom as you move closer. His hands comes to a rest on either side of you to keep balanced, resting his face in the crook of your neck. Something sharps ghosts across the skin there and makes you shudder.

“Do you want me to move back?” he asks at once, breath warm on your neck.

“No,” you chuckle, shifting so you can hide your face in his shoulder. The odd hairs there brush against your cheek as you breathe him in. “No. Stay put for a bit, it’s cold in here.”

He nods an affirmative, and puts his weight on the front legs so he can wrap his arms around you. The heat from him seeps into your bones, and you practically melt into him.

“You give the best damn hugs in the world,” you breathe, somewhat to get some tension out from this not very subtle position you’re currently sharing with him. In your underwear. Don’t think too hard on it.

He just squeezes you quietly.

You stay like that for a bit, something unspoken passing between you. A want to be closer, to belong, but a very pressing knowledge that, in the long run, that won’t be possible. At some point, whatever you’re doing here is going to end. And it’s going to hurt that much more when that run is over, if you don’t keep the distance.

Because, when it really comes to it, you don’t belong here.

But, for now, you can lean into the experience and pretend that you do.

Eventually the prolonged exposure to cold water and the clammy texture of your wet undergarments becomes unpleasant. Reluctantly, you let Dren know.

He releases you at your request and moves back, frowning as he stares down at you. You gingerly run a hand over his arm, a silent checking in. The appendages curled around your waist tighten in response, like there's a shudder going through him. You can hear claws scraping, agitated, and realize just how much he must be holding back.

“You give some very god hugs, too,” he whispers, back to fidgeting. He tears his eyes from you, and promptly moves towards the edge of the lake, taking the warmth with him and leaving you with shivers. “I’ll give you some privacy to get dressed.”

He exits the water, and you look how the droplets seem to be stuck on the hairs on his lower body, rather than hitting to the exoskeleton. He shakes them off effortlessly, and you find yourself admiring the uncanny way in which he moves, the oddly reassuring softness combined with the sure-fire brutal strength.

He catches your eye and offers a somewhat strained smile, before he vanishes down the tunnel a little faster than usually.

And you flump down flat on your back on the rocky surface to breathe for a bit, resisting the urge to cover your face and groan like a flustered adolescent.

What in the living hell have you gotten yourself into?

#colderwriting #monster x reader #drider #gn reader #monster lover #monster boyfriend #drider x reader #monster romance #exophilia

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