#a market dimly lit???

[abirdie]

Gael García Bernal in Fidel (2002, dir. David Attwood)

Gifs are all 540px wide so you can click to see larger.

[other gael filmography gifsets]

[taylorrama]

mewithoutYou, "In a Market Dimly Lit" boygenius, "Powers"

[ansu-gurleht]

the music our collisions would make

[hoshifighting]

Aphrodisiac Liquor

— Synopsis: Where you're out for a night with your friends, and you decide to try an aphrodisiac liquor, feeling the warmth gradually spreading through your body, your best friend Mingyu starts to appear a little too sexy. — Word Count: 5.1k — WARNINGS: smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, chocking, overstimulation, alcohol consumption, horny asf reader, fucked out Mingyu, objetification (Mingyu mentions himself as reader's fuck toy), and dick riding.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, enveloping the dance floor in a rhythmic energy that matched the collective excitement of the reunited friends. You stood in the center of the vibrant chaos, surrounded by familiar faces and the lively atmosphere of the night.

Mingyu, your best friend, flashed a wide grin as he clinked his drink against yours. "Cheers to finally getting the gang back together!" he shouted over the music, laughter twinkling in his eyes. The last few gatherings had always felt incomplete, someone missing here or there, but tonight was different. Everyone was present, and the joy was palpable.

Woozi, the voice of reason in your group, raised an eyebrow as he observed the already empty bottles scattered across the table. "I hope you two are keeping your promise about not drinking too much," he teased, sipping his own drink with a smirk.

You and Mingyu exchanged guilty glances, aware that your resolve was already wavering. However, compared to the chaos that was unfolding around you, with Dokyeom dancing his way through the crowd like a human pinball, Seungkwan engaging in animated conversations that almost turned into arguments, and Soonyoung returning from the bar with two more bottles of liquor in hand, you and Mingyu felt relatively composed.

"Alright, I admit, maybe we'll take it easy," you chuckled, watching as Dokyeom narrowly avoided another collision on the dance floor.

Mingyu nodded in agreement, but his eyes gleamed mischievously. "Just a little more won't hurt, right?" he said, pouring a modest amount into his glass.

As the night progressed, the club transformed into a haven of laughter, dancing, and unrestrained merriment. The DJ played a mix of old favorites and current hits, prompting everyone to let loose on the dance floor. Woozi found himself reluctantly pulled into a lively dance circle, while Dokyeom continued his mission to navigate the crowd with unpredictable dance moves.

As Soonyoung proudly presented the array of liquor bottles on the table, your eyes were drawn to one particular bottle covered in an intriguing green and purple cloth. Curiosity piqued, you reached for a shot cup and poured yourself a small measure of the mysterious concoction. The liquid gleamed in the dim light of the club, promising an adventure for your taste buds.

Bringing the cup to your lips, you took a shot, savoring the sweet burn that spread across your tongue. The flavor was unique, a blend of sweetness and warmth that left a tingling sensation in its wake. Intrigued, you picked up the bottle to read more about the drink. Just under the bold name "Har" was a smaller inscription that caught your attention – "aphrodisiac drink."

You chuckled, dismissing it as a mere marketing gimmick. Placing the bottle back on the table, you rejoined the conversation with Chan, discussing music, life, and everything in between. However, as the minutes passed, you couldn't shake the subtle change in the atmosphere around you.

As Chan's voice faded into the background, your focus shifted to an inexplicable sensation coursing through your veins. A warmth, almost like a surge of electricity, tingled beneath your skin, spreading from the center of your being. Mingyu's concerned gaze met yours as you struggled to steady yourself.

"I-I'm okay," you managed to stammer out, trying to mask the sudden rush of sensations that seemed to intensify with every passing second.

But as Mingyu reached out a hand, concerned etched on his face, the effects of the mysterious drink became undeniable. Your heart raced, a flush painting your cheeks as your breaths quickened. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt – that bottle, hidden under the cloth, wasn't just any liquor. It was something more potent, something that had triggered a profound reaction within you.

"Maybe it wasn't just a slogan," you muttered, feeling both flustered and perplexed by the unexpected turn of events.

Mingyu's eyes widened in understanding as he glimpsed the bottle's label. His eyebrows shot up, mirroring your own astonishment. "An aphrodisiac drink? Seriously?" He sulks at you.

The room seemed to spin slightly as your senses heightened, and you struggled to regain composure. Mingyu steadied you, concerned. "We need to get you some fresh air," he suggested, guiding you away from the table and the increasingly curious gazes of your friends.

The air outside the club was cool against your heated skin, a welcome relief from the whirlwind of sensations that had taken hold. Mingyu hovered nearby, offering a steadying presence as you tried to regain your equilibrium.

"Is it getting any better?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, feeling the effects slowly subside. "Yeah, I think so..."

The two of you shared a glance, a mixture of amusement and disbelief coloring the moment. Mingyu chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "Note to self: avoid mysterious cloth-covered bottles from now on."

Mingyu's suggestion to head home triggered a mix of frustration and amusement within you. "I'm fine, really," you protested, your voice carrying a hint of irritation. The effects of the drink had subsided, leaving you feeling more embarrassed than anything else, but Mingyu's protectiveness had a way of both comforting and irking you at the same time.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, come on. You were practically ready to start a revolution back there," he teased, nudging you gently. "Let's not have you causing chaos in the club."

With a begrudging nod, you relented, acknowledging the logic in his words despite your reluctance. The taxi ride was a blur of streetlights and passing cars, the cool glass of the window offering a soothing sensation against your forehead as you leaned against it.

Mingyu sat beside you, occasionally stealing glances to ensure you were alright. "I know it's a bit annoying, but I'd rather get you home safe," he said, his tone softened by genuine concern.

A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of embarrassment and gratitude mingling within you. "I appreciate it, even if I'm not a fan of being babied," you admitted, offering a small smile in acknowledgment of his efforts.

The rest of the ride was spent in comfortable silence, the cityscape passing by as the taxi made its way toward your destination. Despite the unusual turn of events and Mingyu's overprotective nature, there was a sense of reassurance in having a friend who cared so deeply.

As the taxi rolled along the city streets, the heat returned, and your discomfort grew. The air conditioning in the taxi seemed to be struggling against the warmth, leaving you feeling a bit flustered. Mingyu, ever resourceful, rummaged through the pocket behind the driver's seat and emerged triumphantly with a flyer.

He grinned mischievously, turning the flyer into an impromptu fan. With a flourish, he began fanning you, creating a makeshift breeze that elicited a burst of laughter from both of you. The absurdity of the situation and Mingyu's quick thinking turned the taxi into a scene of amusement rather than discomfort.

Arriving home, the cool air of your apartment was a welcome relief from the residual warmth of the night. Mingyu, seemingly accustomed to the layout of your place, strolled in as if it were his own. The comfort of having him around, especially on a random Tuesday or after an eventful night, was a testament to the strength of your friendship.

As you disappeared into the bathroom for a much-needed cold bath, the sound of the TV coming to life echoed through the apartment. Mingyu had settled onto the couch, making himself at home with ease. The flickering light from the TV cast a soft glow on the living room, creating a cozy ambiance.

The cold water worked wonders against the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink, leaving you feeling refreshed – but not feeling like yourself, since the discomfort between your legs was still noticeable.

As you settled onto the couch beside Mingyu, he handed you a cold bottle of water, his concern for your well-being evident. The movie played on the screen, and you tried to focus on the plot, letting the scenes unfold before you. However, your attention kept drifting to the person seated next to you.

Mingyu's features seemed to catch the light in just the right way – the well-combed black hair, the slightly open buttons of his shirt, and the casual roll of his sleeves revealing the tan skin of his forearms. Your gaze couldn't help but linger on the details that seemed to intensify in the dim glow of the TV. His thick thighs encased in denim drew your eyes, and the flickering light played on his lips, making them seem unusually inviting.

Caught in the moment, your eyes met his, and a sudden awareness passed between you. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, attempting to redirect your thoughts back to the movie. You scolded yourself for entertaining such thoughts, trying to dismiss the images that lingered in your mind.

Mingyu, however, noticed the shift in your demeanor. He shot you a curious look. "Everything okay?" he asked, his eyes lingering on yours.

You nodded quickly, taking a sip of the cold water to distract yourself. "Yeah, just got lost in thought for a moment."

You fought to maintain your focus on the movie, but an undeniable sweetness lingered on your palate, a reminder of the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink. The cold bath, despite its earlier refreshing touch, seemed futile in quelling the simmering heat beneath your skin. – To be honest, now the bath didn't work shit – It pulsed through you, intensifying with each passing moment.

Your breath, once steady, now betrayed your internal turmoil. It hitched as your cheeks burned, a telltale sign of the heightened sensations coursing through your body. The discomfort between your legs became an increasingly insistent presence, pussy throbbing demanding attention.

Mingyu, sitting casually beside you, seemed to emit an allure that was impossible to ignore. His features, accentuated by the soft glow of the TV, drew your attention like a moth to a flame.

Your body seemed to betray your attempts to remain composed. Mingyu, your trusted friend, had always been someone you found attractive, but in this moment, every detail about him seemed to amplify that allure.

The internal struggle reached its peak, and you couldn't ignore the discomfort any longer. Closing your legs tightly, you attempted to find some relief, the unbidden desire making focus impossible. In a moment of desperation, you closed your eyes, hoping to regain some semblance of control.

Mingyu, sensing something amiss, took a deep breath and voiced his concern. "Are you really okay?" he asked, genuine worry etched on his face.

Opening your eyes, you knew that you looked far from composed, also known as, absolutely fucked. The internal chaos was surely mirrored in your expression. Mingyu, in his caring nature, reached a hand towards your forehead, then gently slid it down to your neck, checking for signs of fever or any indication of what might be troubling you.

As his hand moved across your skin, he could feel the heat emanating from your body, but the cause remained uncertain. The brief journey from your forehead to your neck sent shivers down your spine, and he noticed your body's involuntary response.

Meeting your gaze with a look of defeat, Mingyu asked, "What am I going to do with you?" The vulnerability of the moment was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected turn the night had taken. Mingyu, torn between concern for your well-being and the confusing dynamics of the situation, faced a dilemma that neither of you had anticipated. The unspoken tension lingered, leaving both of you suspended in a moment that seemed to redefine the boundaries of your friendship.

You found a temporary reprieve by supporting your elbow on your knees, your face cradled in your hands, desperately trying to manage the sensations coursing through your body. Mingyu, sensing your distress, gently asked, "Do you need any help?" His hand rested on your knee, the touch seemingly innocent, lacking any intentional undertones.

Lifting your torso, you looked at him with an expression that conveyed both suffering and confusion. "How?" you managed to utter, the desperation evident in your voice.

He pondered for a moment, sincerity coloring his words. "I honestly don't know," Mingyu admitted, his eyes searching for a solution to the unforeseen dilemma.

Closing your eyes tightly, you breathed loudly, attempting to steady yourself. In a moment of impulsivity, you grabbed his wrist, your eyes still shut, and began guiding his hand higher and higher. 

Mingyu's eyes widened, his attempts to maintain composure faltering. "You're not in the right mind right now," he warned, trying to inject a note of reason into the situation.

You, however, remained persistent, continuing to guide his hand higher with a suffered expression. Mingyu felt a mixture of confusion and a growing awareness that the dynamics of the moment were shifting. He struggled to compose himself, realizing that the unexpected turn of events was challenging not only for you but for him as well.

The charged atmosphere enveloped both of you as you laid your head on Mingyu's shoulder, intertwining your hands together. His touch on your thigh was hesitant, his caress slow and deliberate. Your breath, warm against his neck, sent shivers down his spine.

Mingyu bit his lip, deep in thought as he analyzed the situation. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken desires that hung between you two. The grip on your thigh tightened involuntarily as he contemplated the ways to help you, the weight of his own internal struggle evident in the furrow of his brow.

A soft moan escaped your lips, a sound that resonated through both of you. Mingyu, caught off guard by the effect his touch had on you, felt his body respond involuntarily. His grip tightened on your thigh, and a subtle warmth spread through him.

In the midst of the charged atmosphere, you sulked sultrily, your voice a low murmur that made Mingyu's body react. "What are you waiting for?" you whispered, your sultry tone sending a wave of heat through him.

Caught between the tension of the moment and the realization that there was only one effective way to help you, – fuck you until you're fully satisfied – Mingyu hesitated.

"Fuck, Y/N, I don't know," Mingyu uttered, his frustration and arousal intermingling in his voice. The charged tension in the air seemed to escalate as you lifted your face, bringing it dangerously close to his lips. Your noses brushed together, a subtle and tantalizing gesture that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Please Mingyu, please…" Your sultry tone continued to play with his senses, teasing and arousing. Mingyu, caught in the moment, found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull between you two. He managed to steal a glance at your tank top, the falling straps exposing your shoulder and the hardened nipple teasingly visible through the fabric.

In an unexpected twist, the charged atmosphere culminated in a daring move. Mingyu suddenly felt the touch of your lips on his, and his initial surprise transformed into a profound connection. Before fully giving in to the kiss, he took a momentary glance at you, a silent agreement passing between your locked eyes.

As your lips melded together, Mingyu's hand instinctively found its way to your hair, holding it gently. The kiss deepened, his mouth opening to caress your tongue with his in a dance of shared desire. The world around you seemed to fade away as you both melted into each other's arms, the unspoken tension finding its release in the passionate connection that had unexpectedly blossomed between you.

The intensity of the moment heightened as Mingyu's hand ventured inside your tank top, exploring the warmth of your skin, almost burning the skin of his hand. His fingers danced across your belly, tracing the contours of your waist, before finding their way to cup your breast. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and the heat radiating from your skin seemed to intensify under his caress.

Mingyu, his voice a low whisper, remarked on the undeniable heat emanating from your body. "Fuck baby, you're so hot…"

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips as Mingyu's touch on your breast elicited a visceral response. You acknowledged his observation with a sultry tone, admitting, "I know," the words laden with desire. The unspoken tension between you two reached a boiling point as you confessed, "I need you so bad Gyu!" 

Mingyu, propelled by a sense of urgency, swiftly guided you to the large couch. Without hesitation, he laid you down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. The fervor of the moment heightened as his hands moved with purpose, skillfully pulling down the elastic of your shorts and panties, freeing your lower half in one fluid motion. 

Mingyu wasted no time, his fingers skillfully exploring inside your wet sensitive folds, making squelching sounds reaching your ears, while his thumb worked circles on your clit, making your eyes close – finally a relief for your body – and Mingyu notices that too, making him smile at the way your body was slowly stopping from being tense. 

"Is it helping?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

You nodded, acknowledging the relief his actions had brought, but the sensations left you craving more. "It's good, but I need more," you admitted, the desire for something deeper and more intense evident in your voice.

He teased, recalling your earlier affirmation that it was enough. "Well, you said it was enough," Mingyu remarked, playfully challenging your request for more.

Your plea for increased intensity grew more urgent, and he paused, halting his movements abruptly. The sudden stop made you cry out, the rush of sensations abruptly cut off. "I need more Mingyu-ah!" you begged, your voice filled with longing and a desperate plea for the heightened pleasure you desired.

The atmosphere crackled with a palpable intensity as Mingyu, driven by the escalating desire, hastily removed his shirt, buttons scattering in the living room like a visual manifestation of the urgency in the air. His pants followed suit, tugged down with an eagerness that echoed the building tension between you two.

Just when you anticipated he would hover over you, Mingyu surprised you by getting down instead. From this new vantage point, he looked up at you, your legs spread, his gaze locked onto your aroused form, red cheeks, your pussy glistening, hair gluing on your skin and parted lips. 

Mingyu's words, spoken in a low, husky tone, carried a mix of surprise and desire. "I should've seen this coming, but... You look so wet," he remarked, his gaze shifting from your face to your core. 

Mingyu, his eyes still locked on the intimate revelation before him, couldn't help but voice the question lingering in his mind. "Is it because of the drink?" he asked, a hint of concern and curiosity in his voice.

You met his gaze, a mix of honesty and desire reflected in your eyes. "Yes," you replied, acknowledging the role the mysterious drink had played in heightening the sensations coursing through your body. But then, with a subtle but deliberate emphasis, you added, "But also because of you."

The weight of your admission hung in the air, and Mingyu, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and arousal, sought confirmation. "For real?" he asked, seeking assurance.

In response, you simply nodded. Mingyu, fueled by the shared desire and the realness of the moment, wasted no time. His mouth found your core, and the sudden sensation made you jolt, "Ah! Mingyu s-shit!" a gasp escaping your lips as you called out his name. 

He rolls his tongue around your throbbing and puffy clit, before sucking it between his red swollen lips. Mingyu's hands took hold of your thighs, pulling you closer and causing you to slide along the couch. The sudden movement left you in a state of disbelief, and your hands instinctively flew to cover your face. The realization that your best friend was now intimately between your legs, eating you out, overwhelmed you, and a mixture of shock and pleasure lingered in the air. "Fuck- gonna cum…" Your voice cracked.

The rush of sensations made your thighs involuntarily squeeze around Mingyu's head, a surge of pleasure intermingled with the overwhelming intensity of the moment. He shot you a glance, a mix of amusement and appreciation for the sudden pressure, as he continued to lavish attention on your most sensitive places. Your feet brushed against the skin of his back, the physical contact adding another layer of intimacy.

The warmth of your release against his mouth sent a shiver through Mingyu, the sensation exhilarating. The way you arched your back, screaming, calling out his name, in a tone he'd never heard you call before, made his cock twitch inside of his boxers. Mingyu found himself reveling in the sensation, realizing that this uncharted territory had opened up a new, unexplored dimension in your friendship.

Mingyu, still basking in the aftermath of the shared moment, took a moment to peel off his boxers. His arousal was evident, and the sight of his cock slapping against his abdomen left you watching in awe.

Feeling a surge of desire, you looked at him with a newfound boldness and asked, "Can I ride you?" 

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, a smile spreading across his face. He laughed, the sound filled with a mix of amusement and desire, before responding, "Sure, baby."

The air was thick with anticipation as you straddled Mingyu's thighs, his desire evident in the teasing glare he directed at you. Taking control, you began to pump his dick with deliberate movements, a sly smile playing on your lips. 

Guiding him to your entrance, you felt the stretch as he entered you, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. The ease with which he slid into you only intensified the raw pleasure of the moment. Mingyu's moan of approval, a low and satisfied "Hmmm" echoed through the room.

With your hips rolling in a rhythmic dance, you couldn't resist the urge to pull your top up, exposing more of your tits. However, Mingyu, seemingly wanting control, pushed your hands away. His fingers began to flicker over your exposed nipples, a teasing and tantalizing touch that made you mewl in response.

Mingyu's words, a command laden with desire, hung in the air. "Use me as your little toy," he urged. 

The suggestion lingered, and you, caught in the intensity of the moment, questioned if he was truly willing. "Will you let me?" you asked, smiling mischievous while your hips worked harder. 

His response came in a low, throaty moan, filled with both need and consent. "Yes, I'm yours. Use me as much as you want," Mingyu declared.

"Bet." 

As you lowered your body, sinking your hips harder with each motion, Mingyu's grip on your waist tightened. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving the promise of bruises. Mingyu, fueled by the idea of being your little fuck toy, couldn't contain the rush of sensations overwhelming his mind. 

The rhythm of your hips took on a frantic, fast pace, causing Mingyu to question whether his legs could even leave the couch. The intensity of the experience pushed him to the brink, as his cries grew louder, bordering on uncontrollable, he begged you to slow down, fearing he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. "Shit b-babe slow down!" His plea held a desperate undertone, a warning of what was to come if the pace continued.

In response, you choked him gently with one hand, a firm yet commanding gesture. "Be quiet," you whispered, a note of authority in your tone. The threat of a noise complaint lingered in the air. 

The sensation of your hand wrapped around Mingyu's throat, barely cutting off his air, made him gasp for breath. The delicate balance between pleasure and restriction sent waves of a delicious intensity through him. As you rolled your eyes, feeling your orgasm approaching, the grip on him tightened, and he arched his back, attempting to hold onto his own release.

The climax approached with an overwhelming force as your pussy crushed Mingyu's cock, inducing spasms of pleasure that rippled through his body. Your moans intertwined with the thick tears rolling down your cheeks, a culmination of the release from the tension that had built up throughout the night. The intensity hit like a tidal wave, leaving you feeling momentarily unstable.

Sensing your need for support, Mingyu struggled in pleasure to get up. He reached out to you, holding you close as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, crying out his name.

"Yeah, baby, I know it feels too good, right? I got you," Mingyu murmured, his words a reassuring melody in the aftermath of the intense orgasm. 

Driven by a lingering desire that had occupied your mind since the beginning of the night, – suck Mingyu's cock until you're unconscious – you decided to act on your newfound craving. Eagerly, you untangled yourself from Mingyu's embrace, his stability still offering support as you made your way towards your intended destination.

Your eagerness didn't leave room for hesitation. With a toss of your hair to the side, you seized the opportunity, pushing Mingyu's cock deep into your throat. The sudden, intense action caught him off guard, and his mouth opened wide in surprise, not expecting the eager and daring move you had just made.

The room was filled with a mix of sounds—the wet, rhythmic movements, his gasps of pleasure, and the unspoken understanding that the night had taken yet another unexpected turn. 

A prolonged "Fuuuuck" escaped from Mingyu's lips as you continued to bob your head incessantly, the wet, rhythmic sounds of your slurping echoing through the room. The intensity of your actions caused his cheeks to flush, and the pleasure you were delivering was almost overwhelming. Mingyu, lost in the sensations you were creating, felt himself melting into the couch, completely absorbed in the pleasure of the moment. 

Mingyu's tip pushed against the back of your throat, your lips grazing his pelvis. He held onto the material of the couch, feeling the tension radiate through his entire body. The moment climaxed with the forceful release of his cum, the spurts going down your throat.

"Oh my god Y/N!" As you continued to suck, Mingyu's body flinched in the aftermath of his release. His voice, now thin and breathless, pleaded with you to stop.

"Please, stop," he managed to utter, the intensity of the sensations still coursing through him.

You allowed Mingyu's soft cock to fall gently onto his stomach with a faint pop of your lips. Surveying his body, now laid defeated on the couch, you asked, "You okay?"

He nodded, his hands finally releasing their tight grip on the couch fabric. "Yeah," he affirmed, his breaths still slightly uneven.

Mingyu, his voice tinted with a mix of surprise and realization, whimpered, "You were horny as fuck, weren't you?"

A smile played on your lips as you replied, "Sorry if it was too much."

Exhausted, Mingyu closed his eyes and confessed, grinning "I loved it."

Mingyu, with a tired but content sigh, raised his arm, reaching out to pull you into a comfortable embrace. You settled against his chest, the warmth of his skin radiating through you. The living room was scattered with discarded clothes, a testament to the intensity of the night that had unfolded.

As sleep began to claim both of you, Mingyu's rhythmic breathing served as a calming lullaby. His fingers gently traced patterns through your hair as you drifted into a peaceful slumber on his chest. 

The morning light filtering through the curtains woke you from your slumber, accompanied by the gentle sensation of Mingyu's fingers tracing patterns on your back. As you lifted your head and rubbed your eyes, you realized you probably didn't look your best. Thankful that Mingyu had seen you wake up before, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, seeking a moment's refuge.

With a husky voice, Mingyu spoke up, breaking the quiet morning atmosphere. "I'm definitely buying another bottle of that liquor for us," he declared, the memory of the eventful night prompting a teasing smile.

The shared sentiment about the unforgettable night echoed in his words, encapsulating the adventurous journey you and Mingyu had embarked on. The unspoken understanding and the newfound closeness between you two lingered in the air, marking the beginning of a bond that had evolved beyond the boundaries of mere friendship.

[idolindrawer]

Snap

IVE Yujin x Male Reader Smut 3.4k words

I'm not a native English speaker, so some expressions might sound odd. I'm always open to suggestions for improvement.

"Whatever you wish for will come true if you wish for it correctly,” the fortune teller says.

"That's not what I came here for," you say, stubbing out your cigarette in the ashtray with a huff of annoyance. "Don't you have any better advice?"

"This is the best advice I can give you," the fortune teller replies, completely unfazed. "The key is to do it correctly. Wishes need a trigger."

Growing increasingly irritated, you begin snapping your fingers repeatedly to vent your frustration. You came seeking guidance on how to improve your life, but this is a huge disappointment. 

The fortune teller seems oblivious to your anger and says cheerfully, "There you go, use that as your trigger. Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers."

"This is like throwing 50,000 won down the drain," you sigh in exasperation, grabbing your bag and jacket, ready to leave the fortune teller's tent.

"Well, feel free to go,” the fortune teller says, looking surprised as if he had never met a customer who didn't believe in his words. "But it'll be worth 50,000 won if you give it a try."

Because of that fortune teller, the lunch break was wasted. You hurry along the path to your office, but as usual, you get held up by the traffic lights just 200 meters before. Being late is unavoidable.

While waiting, a bank advertisement on a nearby building catches your eyes. A celebrity girl dressed in the bank's signature green gives you a broad smile. You've seen her in other ads before. Isn't her name An Yujin or something? She must be a member of some idol group. You vaguely recall your niece being a huge fan.

Even when you look back at the red light of the traffic signal, you can’t get her out of your mind. How much did she earn from that bank ad, anyway? She’s probably around twenty, but her bank account must hold far more than my lifetime earnings... Damn it.

Seriously, if I were giving that huge amount of money to a young girl like her, I’d demand a much more provocative ad. I’d have her wear a skirt so short that her underwear can be seen in front of the press and have her shamelessly flaunt her ass to the cameras. Now that would be sure-fire marketing! You snap your fingers idly, indulging in this wicked fantasy of degrading celebrities to satisfy your ego.

Suddenly, someone's shoulder bumps into you from behind, jolting you back to reality. The light is green.

Just before leaving work, you scroll through social media and are stunned. It turns out that the girl from the ad you had seen at your lunch break was involved in a promotional event just a few hundred meters away. Moreover, she was wearing a skirt so short that it was almost revealing her underwear. The innocent young girl from the ad photo, now in a video from just two hours earlier, was dressed as if the whole of Korea had run out of fabric, shamelessly revealing her toned thighs to the gathered crowd. With a playful twirl, she revealed a glimpse of her white underwear covering her buttocks.

You happen to recall the words of that fortune teller: "Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers." Did I actually snap my fingers? If so, then that fortune teller must have been a true psychic. If, as he said, wishes can really come true, is there anyone who wouldn't wish for something bigger?

Mesmerized by Yujin's legs on the screen, you swallow hard and imagine her sensual image. Tight-dressed Yujin is kissing in the dimly lit hotel room. As her dress is unzipped, black lace lingerie is revealed. Her buttocks are just covered with a bare minimum G-string, which she teasingly lets fall to her ankles, spreading her legs to accept the cock...

You snap your fingers once, forcefully. If this is going to work, the closer to her, the better chances might be. The event should have ended about an hour and a half ago, but is she still there? Hastily gathering your belongings, you clock out and run out of the office building towards the event venue.

The streets around the venue are teeming with people who have gathered information from social media, yet Yujin is nowhere to be seen. Disappointed to find that the event has ended, most people slowly drift into nearby cafes. Some remain standing, visibly dissatisfied, and frantically searching social media for any trace of her.

You open social media, but find it worthless due to the numerous accounts already capitalizing on her popularity and leveraging it to gain attention. “We're selling rare photo cards!” “Try this dating app for guaranteed meet-ups.” #IVE #YUJIN “Click here for an AI-generated celebrity sex tape...” In the sample video, a porn star with Yujin's face, digitally altered and occasionally glitching, kisses a naked man in a hotel room. His hand reaches for the zipper at her back, unzipping it to reveal her skin, which is trimmed with black lace lingerie...

Wait, can this really be the wish come true? The video is eerily close to what I imagined, but if this is it, then it’s a joke taken too far. The fortune teller must have been a fraud after all. Feeling everything is suddenly absurd, you shove your phone into your pocket and start walking toward the station.

Near the venue, the same posters of Yujin that you saw during the day are displayed, her trusting smile reaching out to you. The fortune teller's words echo in your mind: "The key is to do it correctly." What if the fortune teller was a genuine psychic, and the way to wish was wrong? The first wish came true, after all, and her sex was pulled off even in a rubbish way. It might be too early to conclude that he is a fake psychic.

There could be several reasons for the failure, but simply imagining her sex scene wasn't enough. That is, it requires imagining myself having sex with her. As vividly as possible, the feel of her body, myself slipping in between her legs...

You imagine carefully, snapping your fingers. Fate should take care of the rest. If this doesn't work, tomorrow I'll storm back to that fortune teller and demand my money back.

Before catching the train at the station, you detour slightly to use the public restroom. Using this station over 250 days a year, you know exactly where to find the always empty and relatively clean toilets.

You finish your business, wash your hands carelessly, and as you lift your head to see a tall girl staring at you from the mirror. Her white skirt is so short that her underwear is almost visible.

"An Yujin...ssi?"

It's definitely her. She's wearing the same outfit she had on at the daytime event, her arms crossed, looking slightly displeased at you.

"Why are you here?" you ask timidly. 

"Isn't this what you wanted?" With that, Yujin strides towards you, her hand reaching for the belt of your pants without hesitation. "Let's get this over with." 

Intimidated by the girl's boldness, you calmly scan the surroundings to ensure it’s safe, then guide her by the arm into the cleanest stall you can find.

"Are you the real An Yujin?" You whisper, keeping your voice low to avoid being heard. 

"There's another me?" She glances at you exasperatedly, then returns to dealing with your pants. With the same detachment as unlocking a door, she unbuckles your belt, lowers the zipper, and pulls off your pants. Her movements are awkward, but she's completely focused on her task, as if you weren’t even there, and that annoys you a little.

Despite her businesslike demeanor, every time her slender fingers brush against your lower body, your cock stiffens with the intimacy of contact you haven't felt in a long time and the anticipation of what's to come.

“But I haven't done anything yet?” Her fingers caress through your underwear, confirming your arousal. Looking satisfied with the heat of your groin, she smiles.

“May I take these off?” Before you can even nod, she’s already crouching down, pulling the waistband of your boxer briefs down to your ankles, revealing you completely.

Yujin remains crouched, staring at your exposed cock with interest. As you glance down, you notice her tight white mini shorts peeking out from under her skirt. Your cock responds to it, twitching with excitement before her eyes.

“You like being watched, huh?” Yujin says with a knowing smile. As she wraps her hand around your cock, giving it a few strokes, she stands up. You, expecting oral sex or something more, are disappointed and surprised. 

“Hey, is that all?”

"I'll do what you wished," she says with a mischievous grin. Then, balancing on her tiptoes and spreading her legs slightly, she holds your cock between the middle of her thighs carefully. "Feel free to move.”

You realize you've messed up again. When you snapped your fingers, you may have been too focused on her legs, and the wish was misinterpreted as thighfuck with her.

“Uh, wait a moment, let me snap my fingers again. This time, I’ll do it right,” you babble in a flustered tone, causing Yujin to look at you with curiosity. “Snap your fingers? What do you mean? Are you already satisfied?”

No way. The wish may have been downgraded, but it's the worst outcome to lose the favorable situation that's already come true. You pull yourself together and direct your full attention on the sensations of her two legs.

Her thighs are curvaceous compared to her slender waist, wrapping around your shaft and transferring her warmth from all directions. As you hold onto her thighs and move your body slowly back and forth, you can feel her bare, soft skin follow together, and the firm muscle layer beneath grips your cock tightly and never releases it.

"Your legs are incredibly gorgeous," you mutter, and for the first time, Yujin looks genuinely embarrassed. It's unclear why this celebrity girl was sent here, but it’s clear that she’s here to provide sexual services to this stranger, so why not make the most of it?

You put your hands on her hips and accelerate the reciprocating motions. As you press your lower body against her legs, the silky surface of her thighs ripples in response. Yujin grips your shoulders to stay balanced, trying to keep steady despite the constant kinetic energy. Your chin rests on her shoulder, and her hair brushes against your face. The sweet scent of her conditioner unexpectedly captivates you.

As sweat beads on your forehead, you wonder why, even though the wish was downgraded, things are still happening that you didn’t expect. Perhaps there’s no rule saying that once a wish is granted in a silly way, nothing else can occur. It might be up to the one who wished to make use of the situation.

To get the most out of the circumstances, you begin to secretly explore the boundary. Slide your hands back on her hips slightly, then cover her ass. There is no indication of her resistance. You knead on Yujin’s tight buttocks and move as if you were thrusting her. It seemed you heard a faint noise leak out of her mouth, but she didn’t stop you.

Then you bring your hands a little bit towards her waist, slipping them under the hem of Yujin’s blouse. Carefully touching her bra in her clothes, your eyes meet hers.

"Can I touch them?"

“Get it done quickly, okay?” Yujin says, looking away. You take that as approval and rub her breasts roughly. She's wearing something like a bandeau bra with no wires underneath her clothing, and you can feel the softness of her breasts even though they’re covered with the bra. But seized by an inevitable urge to see the hardness at the center, you forcefully pull the bra down.

Yujin's breasts are perfectly proportioned, and their distinct curvature and firmness bring a sense of satisfaction. When you touch their smoothness, you’re amazed to see your fingers sinking more than you expected. At the center, a reddish-brown areola the size of a coin surrounds a taut, protruding nipple. You pinch them lightly, then electricity runs through her body. She bashfully covers her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to hide her rough breath.

When you get carried away and go to kiss her, she pulls you away. With her flushed face, she said, “Focus on finishing this” while suffering the pleasure of her upper body.

As you explore Yujin’s youthful body freely, your cock is growing more sensitive and nearing release under the pressure of her thighs. However, your overwhelming passion for the ultimate goal makes it impossible to be satisfied with just releasing your desire between her legs.

“But I wanna be inside you.”

“Just come like this,” she responds bluntly. Expecting this answer, you decided to try another approach.

You stop moving for a moment, pull the hot shaft out from between her legs, lift her hips up, and then push it back in, at a higher position than before, so it can rub against her mini shorts.

“Wait, what are you…” Yujin becomes upset, but when you start moving it, she lets out a small moan. Thrusting your thickness, you can feel the softness of her pussy through the fabric. As you adjust the angle to hit her sweet spot, her hips twitch slightly in response to the pleasure.

Yujin grabs your shoulders and lowers her head, rounding her back to resist the temptation. Although you can't see her face, her shallow, quickened breaths sync with your sensation. You shift one of your hands from her hips to her chest, palming her breast and teasing her nipple with your fingertips.

Her short cry echoes in the empty train station restroom, and both you and she look at each other in surprise. The air feels frozen for a moment, but as you realize there’s no one around to hear it, you both resume the session.

As you gaze into Yujin's eyes, she meets your stare with disheveled hair and a messy face. She is flushed and damp with sweat, and her eyebrows are filled with shame and pleasure. Every time you tease her breasts with a nipple, she bites her lower lip, indicating that your treatment isn’t wrong.

“Keep going,” Yujin murmured with words that were neither order nor plea, revealing her desperate need for ecstasy. You see this as an opportunity to negotiate with her in the heat of the moment.

"After I get it into you," you say clearly, and Yujin seems unsure of how to respond, looking confused. The wish granted you fake sex with IVE's Yujin, but if you want anything more, you’ll have to achieve it on your own. So, does this mean that the An Yujin in front of you is genuinely struggling with whether or not to accept your cock, regardless of the power of the wish?

You think the last push is necessary and sneak your hand inside her shorts, searching for her clit. Her pussy is already soaking wet, and as you slide your fingers on her sensitive skin, which is coated with lube, unbearable pleasure spreads throughout her body. Yujin lets out a muffled moan, and she hugs your neck to keep herself from collapsing. Finally, she gives in and says, "Okay, okay.”

She looks at you awkwardly, pinches the waistband of her shorts, and then lowers them with a polite gesture. As she lifts her leg and removes the high heels from her shorts, you catch a glimpse of her completely shaved pussy. With a hand on the stall door, she turns around and slightly lifts her skirt, presenting her buttocks to you.

"Oppa, hurry up.”

Her curt tone sounded like a cheap whore, which rather turned you on. You place your cock against her wet labia and press gently. You are permitted to enter through her moist skin and proceed into her feverish depth. As your head glides along with her mucus walls, she groans in sensation. Retracing the path, you feel her pussy waves and grips your cock tightly, pulling you back to inside.

While you teasingly savor her insides, Yujin gestures with her sweaty hand to thrust more. You grab her waist roughly and drag her buttocks toward your pelvis. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the empty restroom, her buttocks undulating, and the young idol's unrestrained cries fill the air.

Yujin's breathing becomes irregular and intense as a result of your relentless thrusting. She tries to soften the impact by moving away from you, but the small stall offers no escape. Despite her effort, the insistent slamming continues unabated, and she appears to be on the edge of collapse.

“Oppa, I need a…" She manages to whisper, shaken by the assault from behind. You pretend not to hear her while constantly stirring her pussy. You fiercely grasp the artistic shape of her ass with both hands, thrusting the heated shaft in and out of the lubricated hole in the center.

With one thrust, Yujin rounds her back and convulses her whole body. After a few seconds of trembling, exhaustion overwhelms her, and she’s about to fall. You quickly catch her, turn her around, and sit her down on the lid of the closed toilet.

Her face is flushed red, and she is barely catching her breath. Her nipples move up and down as she breathes, and her legs hang on either side of the toilet, displaying her undressed lower body. The contrast with her cheerful smile in the advertisement is intensely stimulating, but you avoid staring at her to keep her from realizing how she looks now and getting back to reality.

Yujin's inner thighs are glistening with a few streaks of wetness. You take and place them on your shoulders, inserting your still-hot cock from the front. She moans softly and becomes addicted to the sensation of your shaft stretching out her vagina.

As you push your cock through her labia and into her depth, the force causes her breasts to jiggle. You are immersed in the awareness of your movements piercing through her entire body, unable to stop yourself from moving frantically. Instinct guides your hands to her swinging breasts, your lips to her sweat-slicked neck, and then to her lips for a kiss. This time, Yujin doesn’t resist and gives in to your approach. You and this idol caress each other's lips, entwine their tongues, and share the taste of saliva.

Slamming your shaft into Yujin's pussy, you rub her clit with the thumb of one hand a few times. She twists her face and manages to remain silent in a desperate effort, but as the moment of release approaches again, her expression turns into a mix of fear and anticipation.

She presses both hands against her mouth, and after a split-second of weakness, her body trembles with orgasm on the toilet lid. Her inside is spasming around your cock, but you can't stop moving because you feel the dopamine approaching. Thrusting her lube-soaked, fluttering cunt just a few times, hot semen rushes into her depths.

Breathing heavily, you and Yujin watch the cock is pulled out of her pussy, which is glistening with mucus, and the sperm runs out. Yujin's hair is tangled, and she appears fatigued, but there is a strange satisfaction on her face as she looks at the spilled secretions.

As you're wrapping the toilet paper, you hear a few men entering the restroom. Hey, come on. It's gonna take a while to get out. The instant you are distracted by the noise outside, you feel a warm, wet touch on your lower body. Yujin is bending over, eagerly putting your cock into her mouth, and bobbing her head to suck out every last drop of your cum. Surprised, yet unable to resist the seductive sensation of her tongue gliding over your shaft, your cock quickly returns to its earlier state.

"Looks like we can't go out yet," leaving lips from your cock, Yujin whispers teasingly. "There's still time for another round, right?” she says, carefully sitting back down on the toilet lid so as not to make any noise, and spreading her graceful long legs wide.

Damn, it’s really worth 50,000 won.

[reiderwriter]

Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3

(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon

A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡

Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.

Masterlist

The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 

You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 

A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 

You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 

“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 

“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 

The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 

“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 

Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 

He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 

“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 

That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 

Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 

“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 

The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 

All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 

He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 

You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 

Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 

Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 

“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 

“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 

“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.

“My… my what?” 

“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”

“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 

Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 

“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 

“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 

He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 

Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 

He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 

When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 

You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 

You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 

You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 

So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 

You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 

You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 

It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 

Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 

You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 

“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 

“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 

You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 

Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 

Or a pedestrian. 

The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 

“We're here.” 

“Great. Let me walk you in.” 

In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 

“Okay.” 

Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.

“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 

“About what, Y/N?” 

He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 

You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 

“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 

You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 

“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 

“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 

His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 

Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 

“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 

Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 

He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   

“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 

“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 

“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 

Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 

“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”

“Good girl.” 

He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 

You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 

“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 

Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 

“You're being an ass.” 

“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”

“Spencer!”

“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”

His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 

“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”

You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 

“Yes, Spencer.”

“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”

He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 

By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 

He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 

“No clothes, Y/N.” 

“I know.”

“Underwear is clothing.” 

“I know that, too, Spencer.”

“Then take it off.” 

You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 

“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 

“I also said no clothes.” 

“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”

His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 

He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 

You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 

“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 

“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 

“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 

“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 

He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 

“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 

You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 

“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 

When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 

He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 

“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 

You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 

“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 

You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 

You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 

Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 

His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 

“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 

“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 

His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 

You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 

“Fuck, Spencer.” 

“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”

With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 

You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 

The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 

You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 

Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 

“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 

“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.

“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 

“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 

But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 

“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 

“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 

“I know, I'm going to stay.”

“In the bath?” 

“In the bath.” 

“Good.”

And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 

[ohisms]

↪     𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 , HISTORICAL 〳 FANTASY edition !   (  a  collection  of  25  settings  based upon the period 〳 fantasy genres ; meant  to  inspire  drabbles  or  be  used  as  prompts . WILL be updated .   )

001. the interior of an elegant carriage .

002. seated at a large dining table set with an elaborate meal .

003. the shadowy corner of a lively tavern .

004. the top of a light house during a raging storm .

005. along the dimly lit corridor of a large manor .

006. the damp , dark brig of a pirate ship .

007. the ruins of an ancient structure lost to time .

008. a theater hall brimming with attendees .

009. the bustling streets of a market town .

010. a sun - drenched vineyard .

011. along a boardwalk overlooking the sea .

012. a moonlit cemetery full of weathered graves .

013. on horseback , deep in the woods .

014. a luxurious drawing room smelling of tea .

015. a sprawling dragon roost , hidden atop craggy mountain peaks .

016. a war - torn battlefield .

017. a beautiful cathedral bustling with churchgoers .

018. within a crammed opera box during a performance .

019. an elegant tearoom serving afternoon refreshments .

020. a lakeside pavilion on an especially hot day .

021. a sprawling network of underground catacombs .

022. a hidden glade in the middle of the woods .

023. the deep , dark dungeon of a castle .

024. a market square full of fruit and fineries .

025. a baker's shop smelling of wonderful pastries .

026. the quiet stables of a large estate .

027. on the outskirts of a magnificent water fountain .

028. in a dimly lit library , hidden amongst the books .

029. among the high walls of a hedge maze .

030. at the front desk of a warm , homey inn .

031. under the protection of a gazebo as it rains .

032. on the landing of a busy train station .

033. a gambling hall alight with raucous laughter and drink .

034. a pristine infirmary , mostly empty .

035. on board a huge ship making a long voyage .

+   20  more  setting  prompts :    6 / 01 / 2024

036. in a sunlit garden adorned with blooming flowers .

037. at the edge of a serene forest lake under a starry sky.

038. within a quiet corridor of a castle during a lavish ball .

039. in a bustling blacksmith's forge , sparks flying .

040. on a rocky cliffside overlooking a vast ocean .

041. in a quaint village square during a festival .

042. within a secret chamber hidden behind a bookshelf .

043. in the grand atrium of a luxurious hotel .

044. along a narrow brick alleyway in a crowded town .

045. within a busy marketplace in a desert town .

046. on a tranquil beach at sunrise .

047. in a cozy cottage with a crackling fireplace .

048. at the helm of a majestic airship soaring through the clouds .

049. in a grand library filled with ancient tomes .

050. on a bustling harbor dock as ships come and go .

051. within a magical forest where the trees glow softly .

052. in an apothecary's shop filled with herbs and potion .

053. at a secluded cabin by a dangerously quick river .

054. within the opulent throne room of a powerful ruler .

055. in an enchanted glade where fairies dance in the moonlight .

[yandere-3-sagau]

Can I request SAGAU with reader coming into Teyvat but being very hush hush about it and they get a job at Wangshu inn or something but one day they end up cutting themselves and boom golden blood? Sorry if this is too specific

Don’t apologize, I love this idea!

I have so many ideas for this one ranging from crack to angst hskakdk

Let’s say that all the documents about the creator have vague descriptions so they aren’t too sure about your appearance. The only key signs of being the creator are golden blood and crystal like tears.

I hope you like it! I think this may be my first request ^.^

—

Yandere!SAGAU x Secret!Creator!Reader Part 1

Your arrival to Teyvat is sudden. One second you had fallen asleep at your desk after a long night. The next second you lift your head and you’re in a completely new environment.

Surrounded by greens and vegetables you note you’re on some sort of farm. You warily get off the ground, dusting off the dirt from your clothes. You look around hoping to figure out where and how you had ended up in this unfamiliar place.

However, what catches your eyes in the dimly lit farm, is a little glowing blue figure floating wispily.

A seelie?

Your heart drops and your eyes squint through the dark taking in more of your surroundings. Your eyes finally land on a large statue in the distance.

Your thoughts are confirmed as you drop to your knees, eyes locked on a Geo Statue of the Seven.

You’ve read the stories, you know what happens.

“Hello? Who is out there?” a shaky voice calls out. You want to get up and run but the shock kept you in place.

An old man makes his way over, holding a lantern over you. The light illuminates your worry-stricken face. Thoughts run wild in your head as the old man helps you into his home.

Not wanting to risk being chased by all these powerful characters thinking you’re an imposter, while also afraid of being confined by obsessive acolytes, you think it’s best that your arrival to Teyvat is kept a secret.

The farmer that found you, a widowed man with no offspring, decides to take you in. To avoid feeling like a burden, you help out the old man in anyway you can, starting with farming. As if the land is trying to show their love for you, the vegetables you plant grow absurdly quick. They grow larger than the farmer had ever seen before. Vegetables farmed by your hand come out with the perfect texture and consistency. To the farmer, you’re like an angel descended from the skies.

It isn’t long before the old farmer’s business booms with the best vegetables in the market. However, he’s become too old and it’s become too difficult for him to transport all of these vegetables from his isolated little home to the shops down in Liyue Harbor.

You volunteer to do it for him. It’s the least you could do in return for him letting you stay rent free. Despite your willingness, you still can’t fight the anxiousness that comes with traveling in Teyvat.

The first time you enter Liyue Harbor, your hands are so sweaty you nearly drop the boxes of vegetables you are holding. Staying the whole day to sell vegetables in Liyue Harbor means that you are exposed. But when you finally came across your favorite characters, you realize you worried for nothing.

You first meet the Traveler and Paimon. The exchange is simple. They buy a few of your vegetables then leave to Wanmin restaurant to use the stove to cook some meals.

Then you meet Xiao. One day, a group of Hilichurl’s almost attack you while you are transporting goods to Liyue Harbor. He quickly wipes them out while you hide behind the cart you are pushing. Xiao simply looks at you for no more than 5 seconds before disappearing.

After that, the worry of your face being recognized begins to fade. If it weren’t for your oddly golden blood, you would have forgotten that you’re the creator.

You become accustomed to living life in Teyvat. It is peaceful. No exams or deadlines. Such simple tasks done day by day. You spend one day farming and the next transporting vegetables. You sit at your little shop selling items before heading home and helping out the old man. It’s not super easy but it’s a lot less stressful than your life before.

Everyday you get to bask in the sunlight and enjoy fresh air while you admire the scenery you had only ever seen through a screen. You are content and happy.

Until one day you accidentally make the smallest mistake.

Xiangling is a regular of yours. Your vegetables are by far the best she’s ever had and you quickly become her source of ingredients for her dishes. She speaks so highly of you that Zhongli, one of the characters you fear most, decides to drop by your little shop.

His presence is intimidating with his golden eyes peering down at you and his tall stature towering over your little stall.

Despite his slightly domineering presence, his voice is as smooth and soothing as you remember it to be and you’re able to calm down enough to treat him like any of your other customers. You’ve already met many characters and none of them were able to recognize you. How could he be any different?

Except he’s not like the others.

He’s nearly 6000 years old. He’s seen things others haven’t and most importantly, he’s worshipped the existence of the creator far longer than any of the Liyue Citizens have been alive.

From the very beginning, he sensed that there was something different about you. Something familiar and oddly inviting. The former Geo Archon thought he knew everyone residing in Liyue but it’s his first time coming across you.

His eyes can’t help but follow your every move as you wrap up his box of vegetables. You finally finish tying up his box with some sturdy rope and grab a knife to cut off the long ends. Just as you’re cutting the rope, your hand slips.

The sharp knife slices shallowly into your opposite hand. Zhongli is only barely able to catch a glimpse of gold before you drop to the floor.

It isn’t the pain that’s brought you to your knees but the fear. You crouch over your hands, covering the wound as best as you can hoping with all your being that he hasn’t seen anything.

Both you and Zhongli can feel your hearts beating faster than ever before.

“Are you alright?”

The former Geo Archon attempts to walk over to the other side of the stall, when he hears the Traveler call his name. His attention wavers and it gives you just enough time to wipe your blood away and stuff the handkerchief into your pocket.

Zhongli glances at you amidst his conversation just to see you finish covering your wound with a bandage. Any trace of blood is gone and the wound is completely covered.

He walks away from the Traveler to speak with you. The geo archon’s eyes never once leave your hand as he stands in front of you.

“Is your wound alright?”

You nod waving your hand a little.

“Just a small wound,” you say, hoping he’d accept your answer and move on.

But he isn’t satisfied.

“Are you sure? It look like it hurt. It’s important to put some cream on it so it doesn’t get infected.”

“Of course! I’m a lot stronger than you think.” You smile before repeating his total. The Traveler ends up paying for the vegetables and the two leave, but not without Zhongli glancing a few more times at you.

When his figure completely fades, your smile drops.

It seems you’ve stayed a bit too long in Liyue.

Shaky hands clumsily pack up your stall as you race to close up the shop early and quickly head home before the Geo Archon decides to return.

While you rush, you don’t notice the small white handkerchief falling out of your pocket nor do you realize that the small piece of cloth would be the sole cause of the upcoming chaos that erupts throughout the nations of Teyvat.

Next

[capquinn]

Couldn’t Tell | Q. Hughes

summary: The relationship between you and Quinn is difficult to define. Friends and something more but you can’t be sure. Sidestepping the issue only prolongs the loop where the potential for something real stays just out of reach until one of you addresses it head on. pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes content: nothing crazy, just a lil situationalship angst word count: 1.6k ↪ masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s not like you had come to the party as dates, but he had asked if you were going so you had been hoping you’d find each other and spend the night getting tipsy in a dimly lit corner of the bar. That expectation made the disappointment hurt all the more.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

There is no way that he can’t see that she’s flirting with him, right?

Your eyes drift back to your friend, tuning back into the conversation you had only been half-listening to, trying to appear indifferent.

“So there I was, sitting in this meeting, with all these big wigs, and suddenly the CEO turns to me and asks for my opinion. Can you believe it?”

You nod absently, stirring your drink with the straw, gaze flickering back across the bar where Quinn is standing. He’s still engrossed in conversation with a brunette, his laugh ringing out through the room, mingling with the ambient party noise. She flicks her hair and lolls her head to the side, commanding his full attention. His smile widens, and he stares back at her like an idiot.

“I was so nervous but I just went for it. Told him all my ideas about improving the marketing strategy, and he loved it! They all did. They might even implement some of my suggestions for next quarter,” your friend continues, unaware of your distraction, voice a bright thread in the background.

Over her shoulder, you exchange glances with Quinn and it’s like a jolt of electricity, snapping you back to reality. “That’s amazing,” you murmur, focussing back on your friend. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks!” She beams. “It has been such a whirlwind. And the perks… Free coffee, flexible hours, and we even have an office dog called Max.”

“Oh, a dog. That’s so cute,” you say, trying to muster genuine enthusiasm, but now, the brunette is touching Quinn’s arm and he isn’t flinching away from her touch. He throws his head back with another bout of laughter, and a surge of jealousy washes over you, your heart crashing with heavy thuds in your chest. Is he serious? Your eyes meet again, and it’s a sharp reminder of just how out of sync you feel.

Each shared glance feels like a lifeline, as if he’s going to offer a smile and make his way towards you, but then he looks away and the chasm between you grows.

It’s not like you had come to the party as dates, but he had asked if you were going so you had been hoping you’d find each other and spend the night getting tipsy in a dimly lit corner of the bar. That expectation made the disappointment of seeing him with someone else hurt all the more.

“Anyway,” your friend says, leaning in, tone dropping conspiratorially, “enough about me. How are things with you and Quinn? I’ve seen you making eyes at each other all night,” she giggles, throwing a glance over her shoulder in Quinn’s direction. If she notices the other girl, she doesn’t mention it.

You force a laugh, bringing your glass to your lips, buying some time to think of an answer other than, ‘well, he’s over there with someone else and I’m pretty sure they’re flirting with each other and there isn’t anything I can do about it because I’m not actually sure where we stand and it’s driving me insane.’

You had hoped tonight would provide a renewed sense of clarity. A glimpse into whether or not the connection that shimmered between you both was more than a fleeting moment. Instead, his easy laughter with someone else highlights the lingering ambiguity and you wonder if you had been read the signals wrong all along. Are you merely a casual acquaintance, just a friend of a friend, rather than someone he genuinely cares about? Are your feelings misplaced or have you been expecting more than he’s willing to give? Perhaps you’ll always be on the periphery of his affections rather than at the centre.

But once you swallow around your racing thoughts, you settle with, “it’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” She raises an eyebrow. “What’s the deal?” The question hangs in the air, but your attention is already elsewhere.

What you had been dreading all night long finally happens. A cruel twist of fate.

The brunette glides closer to Quinn with deliberate grace, her hand trailing lightly over his arm, lingering just a moment too long to be casual. She leans in and her lips hover tantalisingly close to his ear, brushing against his skin. Intimate and unmistakable. Your heart twists in knots as the space between them charges with a private electricity, and it puts so much distance between you and Quinn that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to bridge the gap now.

And then there is a change in his demeanour that’s jarring. Quinn’s initial surprise morphs into a subtle discomfort. Body tensing and eyes widening slightly as the closeness of her whisper registers. The easy laughter falters, replaced with a hesitant smile. He shifts, creating a noticeable distance between them, gently moving away from her touch. In a swift move, his gaze sweeps across the room and lock on yours through the crowded space, his eyes a mix of concern and something that looks like an apology.

A ball of anxiety sits heavy in your chest as he looks directly at you, realising that he saw you witness the entire exchange. The weight of it feels like a direct confrontation to all your insecurities. The uncertainty of your relationship with Quinn has always been a hidden wound, but now it’s exposed and raw.

You turn back to your friend. “Sorry, I just need to…” you trail off, straining a smile as you collect your belongings. Unwilling to sit here a moment longer and bear witness to any further turmoil. “I think I need some fresh air. It’s getting crowded in here,” you excuse yourself, sliding on your coat.

She watches you fumble with your bag. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be back soon. Save me a drink,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

When you reach the exit, the cool night air is a welcome contrast to the oppressive heat inside the bar. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the tension of the evening. Just as you step outside, you sense a presence behind you, and then Quinn is suddenly in front of you, blocking your path.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper against the backdrop of the quiet street. “I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” you cut him short, your voice thick with exhaustion.

His brows furrow, a look of genuine confusion on his face. “I feel like I do,” he presses earnestly.

“It’s fine, Quinn.”

“It’s not fine,” he insists, his voice low and regretful. “I didn’t realize what was going on until it was too late. I’m sorry.”

“You really don’t need to apologize for being oblivious,” you start, your voice faltering slightly despite your best efforts to appear indifferent. “We’re not together so it’s not a big deal,” you hesitate, chuckling nervously, bracing yourself as you teeter on the brink of blowing this whole thing wide open.

You’re tired of the ambiguity that hangs between you, the way your conversations dance around the core of what you both really want. To be together or to go your seperate ways — you really couldn’t tell the difference anymore. The fear of pushing too hard and making things awkward has kept both of you on edge, leading to a pattern where everything remains in flux. It’s as if every time you think you’re getting closer to an answer, the goalposts shift, and you’re left grappling with even more questions than before.

But there’s a simmering resolve that builds with each passing moment. Continuing to sidestep the issue will only prolong the loop where the potential for something real is always just out of reach.

Gathering your strength, you take a deep breath and steel yourself. “It caught me by surprise because I thought you liked me back and that this was leading to something more. It made me realise that I don’t really know where we stand. Am I misreading the signals?”

Quinn’s eyes twinkle with a mix of amusement and warmth. “Am I doing this all wrong?” he asks, his smile playful.

You look at him, puzzled and twinging with frustration. Is this a joke to you? “What do you mean?”

He chuckles, a soft, disbelieving laugh that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Seriously. Am I not being obvious? I’m out here trying to apologise and explain so that you don’t get the wrong idea,” he pauses, gauging your reaction. “I’m interested in you, and I should have made that clear, not just to her but to you too.”

Your breath catches as his words sink in. “Oh,” you whisper. You take a moment, processing the shift in the conversation. “But tonight you were—,”

“I honestly didn’t even realize she was crossing lines,” Quinn interrupts, his tone apologetic. “Hand over heart. I thought she was just being friendly,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck, a flush creeping over his cheeks. “I mean, I should have noticed.”

The haze is beginning to clear.

“So, you’re saying…what exactly?”

A smile grows as he steps towards you, eyes locked on yours. “I’m saying that I like you and I want us to be more than whatever this is,” Quinn affirms, his gaze steady and sincere, fingers intertwining with yours.

You squeeze his hand, relieved. “I want that too,” you confess barely above a whisper, acutely aware of how your heart is racing as your bodies inch closer.

His smile widens, his eyes locked on yours. His hand gently cups your cheek, breaths mingling as he leans in closer, your noses nearly touching.

In that moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. You push up onto your tiptoes, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips to his. The kiss is brief but filled with a depth of feeling that words can’t quite capture.

As you pull back, the world around you settles into a new rhythm and the boundaries of your relationship are redrawn. What were once blurred lines are clearly defined; all is made explicit.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

Is it a Wonder I broke? (1)

Wandanat x human pet!fem!reader

Summary: Wanda and Natasha have been looking for a pet for some time, but they've had no luck until they meet you, will you be a good fit for their lives?

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: 18+ due to themes, MDNI, heavy pet play, human pets, abuse, violence, hurt/comfort

Authors notes: Hello I was listening to TTPD while I was writing the drabbles and when 'Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?' came on I was like fuck this would make a good fic. So this can be stand alone for now, but if you want more lmk! I've never written human pets like this before! They're basically hybrids in a way.

Wanda and Natasha stepped into the black market pet shop, their presence commanding attention even in the dimly lit, grungy space. The smell of decay and neglect was overpowering, a stark contrast to the pristine pet stores they had previously visited. Wanda’s heart ached with each step, while Natasha’s expression remained stoic but vigilant.

A grumpy, terrible old man greeted them with a disdainful look. "What do you want?" he grumbled, clearly not impressed by their arrival.

"We're looking for a pet," Natasha replied curtly, her eyes scanning the room.

The man led them through the front section, showcasing various human pets—dogs, cats, bunnies, foxes—all of them displaying various levels of distress. Wanda's heart sank further with each cage they passed. None of these poor creatures seemed right. She shook her head at each option, her expression growing more resolute.

"These won't do," Natasha said firmly. "Show us the others."

The man hesitated, his eyes narrowing, but he ultimately complied, leading them to the back of the shop. This area was even more dismal, filled with the so-called rejects. The noise was nearly unbearable—constant barking, meowing, and occasional screams echoed off the grimy walls. The man banged on the cages, shouting for silence, but the noise continued unabated.

Wanda's eyes softened with empathy as they walked down the rows. These were the broken ones, the ones no one wanted. She had a special place in her heart for such creatures. Natasha stayed close, her posture protective, her eyes scanning every inch of the space.

Then they saw you. Curled up at the back of your cage, you were a small, fragile-looking thing, trying to stay warm under a feeble heat lamp. You didn’t make a sound, just lay there, as if trying to make yourself invisible.

“I want to see her,” Wanda said softly, her gaze fixed on your small form.

At the sound of her voice, your eyes snapped open. Fear and confusion filled your eyes as you looked at the two women and the man who had caused you so much pain. You cowered as they approached, your body trembling.

Wanda knelt down, her movements slow and deliberate, and held her hand out for you to sniff. You snapped at her, biting her hand out of fear. But she didn’t flinch, didn’t try to hit you. Instead, her eyes were filled with understanding and sadness. Your hard eyes softened slightly, confusion mixing with your fear.

The man reeled back, ready to strike you. Natasha's hand shot out, gripping his wrist tightly before he could lay a hand on you. Her voice was ice-cold and firm. "You want this one, Wands?"

“Yes,” Wanda replied without hesitation, her voice gentle yet determined.

"You do love broken things, dorogoya," Natasha said with a small, affectionate smile.

"We'll take this one," Wanda stated firmly, turning her gaze to the man. "And we'd appreciate you not hurting our property."

The man sneered, his face contorting with disdain. "You'll be bringing her back in a week. She bites. She's loud. She's a runner."

Natasha ignored his words, writing out a check with a flourish. "This should cover her," she said, shoving the check into his chest with a look of contempt.

Wanda carefully attached a leash to your collar, giving you a moment to adjust. You stretched out tentatively, muscles sore from confinement. The three of you headed to their car, a sleek vehicle that contrasted sharply with the grimy surroundings.

In the car, Wanda sat in the back seat with you, her presence a calming force. She let your head rest in her lap, her fingers gently stroking your hair. Her touch was soft, reassuring, and you felt a strange sense of safety begin to wash over you.

“You’re safe now,” she murmured, her voice a soothing melody. “We’re going to take good care of you. We’ll get you all the things you need.”

As you listened to her, a glimmer of hope sparked within you. Maybe, just maybe, these two women would be different. Maybe, this time, you had found a place where you could heal, where you could finally be safe and loved.

You weren't sure how long the drive to their house had been, but you noticed the air smelled fresher and cleaner than the pet shop you came from. Slowly, you sat up, surprising Wanda as you looked curiously out the window. Nothing looked familiar anymore. The scents, the sounds—all new and strange.

As the car approached a large house, you felt a twinge of familiarity. Most of your previous owners had been wealthy, with big houses and nice cars. This was no different. But something felt distinctly unique about this place, a sense of calm that you couldn't quite place.

Wanda gently held your leash as you stepped out of the car, your nose twitching as you sniffed around. The lawn smelled fresh, a welcome change from the dingy pet shop. Natasha had already gone inside, leaving you and Wanda outside. You found a spot to mark your territory, your instincts kicking in.

Once inside, you couldn't see Natasha. Her strong scent of flowers lingered, and Wanda’s scent of vanilla and strawberries comforted you. Wanda let you off the leash, allowing you to explore. She stayed close behind, her voice soft and soothing as she pointed out different rooms.

“This is the living room,” she said, gesturing to a cozy space with plush furniture. “And over here is the kitchen. You’ll like it there; it’s where we keep all the yummy treats.”

Your nose led you from room to room, each one filled with new and intriguing scents. Wanda’s gentle narration helped ease your nerves. You paused at a door that was closed, pawing at it and letting out a small whimper.

“Daddy’s in there working,” Wanda said, her tone understanding. “We need to leave her alone for now.”

You tilted your head, ears flopping slightly, and Wanda giggled at the sight. “Daddy’s working, but Mommy will keep playing with you, okay?”

Her words perked you up a bit. You continued your exploration, feeling more at ease with each step. The house was filled with warmth and comfort, a stark contrast to the cold, impersonal places you had been before.

You eventually found yourself back in the living room, where Wanda sat on the floor with you, offering you a soft, fluffy toy. “Here, sweetie, this is for you,” she said, her smile genuine and kind.

Tentatively, you took the toy, feeling a sense of security starting to build within you. Wanda’s presence was soothing, her gentle touches and kind words wrapping around you like a warm blanket. For the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this place, with these two caring women, could truly become your home.

As you settled into the living room, Wanda continued to speak in soothing tones, guiding you through this new and strange environment. You felt a growing sense of curiosity and a cautious optimism as you explored each nook and cranny. The scent of fresh flowers from Natasha still lingered faintly, but it was Wanda’s comforting presence that kept you grounded.

Wanda reached behind the couch and pulled out a large, plush dog bed. It was soft, with a warm, inviting fabric that looked incredibly comfortable. She placed it in a cozy corner of the living room, patting it gently to get your attention.

“Look, sweetheart,” Wanda said, her voice filled with excitement. “This is your bed. We wanted you to have a nice, big space just for you.”

You approached the bed cautiously, sniffing it thoroughly. The fabric felt soft under your paws, and the scent of fresh linen was a stark contrast to the filthy cages you had known. You circled the bed a couple of times, your instincts guiding you, before finally settling down on it. The plush surface cradled your tired body, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a sense of comfort and safety.

Wanda sat beside you, her hand gently stroking your back. “Do you like it?” she asked, her voice a gentle murmur. “We wanted to make sure you have a cozy spot where you can rest and feel safe.”

Your eyes met hers, and you gave a small, tentative wag of your tail. Her kindness was unlike anything you had experienced before, and though you were still wary, there was a growing trust between you.

Just then, Natasha entered the living room, a small smile playing on her lips as she observed the scene. “Looks like she’s settling in well,” she remarked, her tone softening.

Wanda looked up at her with a warm smile. “Yes, she’s doing wonderfully. I think she likes her new bed.”

Natasha walked over and knelt down beside you, her hand joining Wanda’s in gently petting you. “You’re safe now,” she said softly. “We’re going to take good care of you.”

The combined presence of both women, their gentle touches and soothing voices, wrapped around you like a protective cocoon. The warmth of the dog bed, the softness of their hands, and the sincerity in their voices began to melt away the layers of fear and mistrust that had built up over time.

You laid your head down on the bed, your eyes growing heavy as a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The journey had been long and filled with uncertainty, but now, in this warm, safe home, surrounded by care and kindness, you felt the first true sense of peace you had ever known.

Natasha sat on the couch, leaning back and observing with a soft smile as Wanda continued to sit on the floor beside you, rubbing your back. "So, dorogoya, have you decided on a name for her?" Natasha asked her wife.

Your ears twitched slightly at the sound of her voice. You opened your eyes and lifted your head from the toy you were using as a pillow, curious about what they were discussing.

"I was thinking Bumble," Wanda said, her eyes twinkling with affection.

You perked up at the name, your ears standing at attention and your tail giving an enthusiastic wag. This made Wanda giggle, her laughter light and musical. "You like that? Bumble?" she asked, her voice pitched up slightly with excitement. Your tail wagged even more vigorously, and a small, happy noise escaped you.

"Okay, Bumble it is!" she announced with a smile.

Natasha chuckled, a deep, warm sound. "Well, Wands, Bumble needs a bath. Which you really should have done before letting her on her bed, but there's nothing to be done about that now."

Wanda looked at you fondly, her hand still gently stroking your back. "I'll give her one in a few minutes, okay? I just wanted her to be relaxed first," she spoke softly, her voice filled with understanding and care.

You felt a rush of warmth at their gentle banter and concern for you. As you lay there, you began to understand that this place was different. These people were different. They cared, not just for what you could be or how you could behave, but for you as you were.

After a few moments, Wanda stood up and stretched. "Alright, Bumble," she said, looking down at you with a smile. "Let's get you all cleaned up."

Natasha rose from the couch, offering her hand to Wanda. "I'll help you. It’ll be quicker and easier for both of us."

You followed them to the bathroom, your tail wagging at the prospect of their continued attention. The bathroom was spacious and well-lit, with a large tub that looked far more inviting than any you had seen before.

Natasha started filling the tub with warm water, adding a splash of something that smelled sweet and soothing. Wanda knelt beside you, gently removing your collar. "You're going to feel so much better after this, Bumble," she said softly, her hands still gentle and reassuring.

Together, they lifted you into the tub. The warm water enveloped you, washing away the grime and fear of your past. Wanda and Natasha worked in tandem, their movements careful and synchronized. Wanda lathered you up with a sweet-smelling soap, her touch gentle and comforting. Natasha rinsed you off, her strong hands steady and soothing.

Throughout the bath, they spoke to you in calming tones, their voices a steady murmur of reassurance. "You’re doing great, Bumble," Wanda said, her smile bright and encouraging. "Almost done," Natasha added, her voice low and soothing.

Finally, you were lifted out of the tub and wrapped in a large, fluffy towel. Wanda and Natasha dried you off, their hands moving briskly but gently, ensuring you were warm and dry.

As they finished, Wanda gave you a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "There you go, Bumble. All clean and fresh."

Natasha nodded in approval. "Now you really do look like a part of the family."

With a final ruffle of your hair, they led you back to the living room. You settled once more into your new bed, feeling cleaner and more relaxed than you had in a long time. Wanda and Natasha sat close by, their presence a comforting reminder that you were safe, loved, and finally home.

[aneluvs]

magnetic mishap | bucky barnes

summary: you bought magnets for Bucky's arm, forgetting that vibranium is not magnetic

warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, gn!reader, drunk!reader, alcohol consumption, tears, bucky in love™ (if i missed any pls lmk!)

word count: 0.8k

A/N: i saw this post by @redwolf1123 and i couldn't help myself! this is my first ever bucky fic! i hope i did him justice :) English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar/ spelling mistakes. feedback is appreciated!

The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the floor lamp casting a warm ambiance. Bucky Barnes sat on the olive-colored couch, resting his head on the taupe throw pillows you'd fawned over at the flea market, obsessing over the embroidered leaves on the pillows, exclaiming how well they'd match with the couch you'd bought when you first moved in the apartment. That was a memory he was fond of. It was after your first year together- when you moved in together, deciding to look for apartments in Brooklyn.

His legs were propped up comfortably on the other end of the couch. A copy of The Hobbit you gifted him sat in his hands, his eyes flitting over each word, totally engrossed in the worn-out book with deckle edges and a spine that can barely hold up itself he'd read many times.

He looked up from his reading as muffled giggles and the clinking of keys sounded from outside, along with a few curse words as you tried to fit the keys into the lock. After a minute or so, the front door creaked open, and in you came, a stumbling, drunken mess. Bucky's heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, his heart constricting at the bright look on your face as your eyes zeroed in on him.

"Hi, baby!" You called out, your voice slightly slurred with the telltale signs of a fun night out with your friends.

Bucky closed his book, placed it on the coffee table, and waited for you to reach the couch, a smile spreading across his face. He loved these moments- when you returned home all giddy and carefree. You were a ray of sunshine, lighting up his dark, lonely world.

"Hey, doll," Bucky replied, his voice filled with affection, and adoration, as he watched you walk towards him. His eyes were twinkling with love as you finally reached him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, guiding you into his lap, and you immediately snuggled up, like it was second nature for you- which it was. "You had a good time tonight?"

You nodded enthusiastically, your head all but bopped up and down and swayed from side to side, your face flushed. "The best time! We danced, and- and we... oh! I have something for you!" You reached into your purse, retrieving a small package wrapped in colorful paper.

Bucky's curiosity was piqued as he took the package from you, carefully unwrapping it, and revealing a set of magnets. His eyes widened in surprise. "Magnets?"

You nodded again, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "For your arm!" Your words slurred slightly as you laughed, your intoxication making the idea seem absolutely brilliant.

You took out a heart-shaped magnet, trying to stick it on Bucky's arm, to no avail. It kept falling; you huffed, annoyed, and took out another magnet from the set, this time, one shaped like a rocket ship. Aggravation was quick to take the place of your excitement when it kept falling as well.

Bucky chuckled softly, his heart melting at your drunken enthusiasm. He glanced down at his vibranium arm, knowing that the magnets wouldn't stick, he felt kind of guilty having to break the news to you. "Doll, vibranium isn't magnetic."

Your smile faltered, and your brows furrowed in disappointment. Your intoxicated glee quickly transformed into genuine heartbreak, as tears welled up in your eyes. "I... I didn't think about that," you murmured, voice laced with sadness and disappointment.

Bucky's heart ached at the sight of your distress. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped. "Hey, hey, it's alright," he whispered soothingly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You didn't know. It's the thought that counts." 

You sniffled, lower lip trembling. "But I wanted to your arm to look even cooler. Imagine how cool it would look with magnets, Buck." 

Bucky's heart swelled with love and adoration. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at your antics. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you sighed at the feathery touch of his lips, seemingly content for the time being. 

"I love you, Bucky," you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your eyes shimmering with affection.

"I love you more than words can express," Bucky confessed, his voice filled with sincerity.

At that moment, everything else faded away. Sat in Bucky's lap, wrapped in his arms, your love for one another radiating throughout the room. 

"C'mon," Bucky ushered, "let's get you to bed, honey." His voice was gentle.

"Next time, I'm getting stickers," you mumbled to yourself, a very serious look on your face.

Bucky smiled blissfully, a blush adorning his face. As he held you, he knew that his love for you was unbreakable, even in the face of small disappointments. Your bond was stronger than any magnet could ever be.

i hope you liked it, pls let me know what you thought of this. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[jetii]

A Dance With Danger

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader

Words: 19,621 (oops!)

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends to lovers, implied trauma and sex work, sexual assault type situations, canon typical violence, protective!Hunter, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, primal kink kinda? it's Hunter so...

Summary: Life has been pretty good since Hunter and the Batch unexpectedly entered your life, but you can't help but want more. When Cid offers you a job you can't refuse, you find yourself drawn back into the life you worked so hard to escape from, and Hunter's protective nature doesn't help.

A/N: I've had this one saved in my drafts for literal years, and it's a relief to finally post it. Somewhere along the way this got way longer than I intended so it's a bit of a hike to get to the smut.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

With a confident stride, you make your way through the colorful chaos of Ord Mantell City's market, a covered satchel slung over your shoulder. The city has no set market square. Instead, makeshift stalls and tents offering a variety of goods dot both sides of the street, creating a maze-like sprawl.

You focus your attention on your path, making sure not to bump into any of the other beings that are hurrying past you. The crowd thins a bit as you leave the main bazaar and head down a series of increasingly narrow and deserted side streets. A few minutes later, you step out of a shadowy passageway and into a dimly lit back alley.

Suddenly, loud gasp escapes you as you feel yourself being tugged forward and pulled into the alley's darkness, a pair of strong hands on your waist.

Before you can react, you’re yanked onto your toes and pinned against the wall, a knife jutting into the delicate skin of your neck.

"You’re dead,” a voice rasps.

But you feel no fear. Instead, you smile and laugh, leaning in to the edge of the vibroblade and pushing your body against the hard contours of the man who holds you. The weapon quickly pulls away from your neck before it can slice into you.

“Hunter!” you say, your voice laced with amusement.

In the near dark, you see his eyes flash in annoyance. 

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings,” Hunter admonishes.

“Oh, I’m plenty aware.”

Your eyes flicker downward toward the blade held deftly in your own hand, its tip poised towards the seam in his chest plate. He follows your gaze, eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise, before he draws back and sheathes his weapon.

He gives you a begrudging smile as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Fair play.”

You wink, sliding your knife into the sheath on your thigh. "What brings you to this end of town, Hunter? Business or pleasure?"

"Bit of both, really," he answers with a smirk, and you roll your eyes. "I had a delivery to make in the area."

You reach out to straighten the cloth around his shoulders, the red fabric soft and worn. "And how much was your cut?"

Hunter tilts his head, regarding you for a moment. "Not nearly as much as you'd think."

You pat his shoulder. "It never is, is it?"

“Where are you off to?” he asks as your hand retreats.

“Got a meeting with Cid. Walk with me?”

He nods, falling into step beside you as you begin to walk back through the market towards the arcade.

You move through the crowd in a comfortable silence, occasionally brushing against one another as you maneuver your way through the throng. You notice his gaze lingering on you as you walk, and a small smile crosses your lips. You’ve caught him looking before, but you never tire of seeing him do it.

You’re no stranger to the attention of men, and there was a time when you had relished it, but those days are long gone. Thankfully now, as you walk with Hunter, the gazes of the merchants and the other men seem to slide off you, unnoticed.

There's something different about him. He came into your life unexpectedly, and though his presence has disrupted the careful order of your days, it’s a welcome change.

He makes you feel safe. Protected. Wanted.

And he certainly isn’t hard on the eyes.

"So," Hunter begins, glancing at you. “You talk to her yet?”

“Ugh, yeah.” You roll your eyes. “Never heard her laugh so much before.”

As your foot kicks a rock in your path, he fixes you with a sympathetic look, but he doesn't say anything to try to comfort you. You like that about him — Hunter isn't a man of many words, so when he does speak, they count. And he never seems to tire of listening to you, somehow always knowing when you want to share something and when you want to stay in silence. He's good company.

“She said ‘it'll be a cold day on Mustafar before I let a circus freak tell me how to run my business,'" you say, altering your voice as you recall your boss's words. Normally, mimicking the Trandoshan makes you feel better in times like these, but it only serves to make your blood boil more.

Hunter sucks a breath through his teeth in a wince, knowing that you don't take that insult lightly. He stops walking and turns to face you, putting his hand on your shoulder to pull you aside before you can reach the arcade’s door. His hand is warm and firm, and you find yourself wanting him to leave it there.

"Hey. Look at me." His tone is commanding, but you detect a hint of warmth. You meet his gaze, taking in the rich brown of his eyes, the lines on his brow.

"Don't worry about Cid. You'll get your chance." He leans closer to you, and you're surprised at the tenderness in his voice.

A grin creeps across your lips.

"Hunter, are you giving me a pep talk?"

His expression doesn't change.

"Just a little encouragement," he says, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

You sigh. You want to believe him, but he doesn't know Cid like you do.

"She's right, though. I am a circus freak," you mutter.

"I don't see it," Hunter replies. "I mean, you are a bit of a show-off, but..."

You give him a shove, and he laughs, his eyes crinkling. You love when he does that — his smiles are few and far between, so you treasure every one you manage to elicit.

You shake your head at him, smiling in spite of yourself.

"Well, thanks. I'll take it."

He nods, removing his hand from your shoulder, a ghost of a smile still on his lips. "Anytime."

Hunter opens the door for you, and you make your way through the arcade, weaving past a group of Pantorans who are huddled together arguing over Sabacc. Hunter's brothers are already posted up at the bar, their usual spot. Omega is seated on the counter next to a bottle of some kind of soda, her legs dangling and kicking.

Cid looks up from behind the bar, her reptilian eyes narrowing in on you immediately.

"You're late," she barks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Had an appointment," you answer, giving the Trandoshan a saccharine smile. Cid doesn't ask for details, just snorts and gestures for you to join her in the back.

Omega looks at you and waves. "Hi!"

"Hey, kid," you reply, giving the girl a little wave in return. "How you doing?"

Omega's eyes light up as she speaks to you. "Good! We just got a new job. Well, we're waiting for the client to show up."

"Oh, really? That's exciting." You turn your gaze to the others, who are all looking at you, and offer a small smile. You're still a bit embarrassed by your behavior the last time you were on a job together, when you made an impulsive move and got yourself injured.

You spent several days recovering in the clinic, bored out of your mind, until one afternoon, Omega showed up to keep you company. You didn't mind her company; she was a sweet girl, and a smart one, too. She reminded you a bit of yourself at that age, though with a much better head on her shoulders.

Your attention returns to Hunter, whose brown eyes are fixed on you. He has a curious look on his face, like he's trying to puzzle something out, and you're tempted to ask him what he's thinking.

Omega looks back and forth between you, clearly noticing the silent exchange, and you give her a little wink, causing her to grin.

"Well," you say, turning toward the hallway that leads to Cid's office. "Have fun on your next job, guys."

"We will!" Omega calls after you.

In Cid's office, the older woman is seated behind her desk, the same scowl on her face that she has every time you come into the room. It doesn't matter how many times you go in there, or how much Cid trusts you — it's like her face is stuck that way.

"Sit," Cid commands, pointing a claw toward the chair in front of her desk.

You sit down, placing the satchel on your lap. The Trandoshan stares you down, her yellow eyes piercing.

"You're not gonna believe what I'm about to tell you," Cid begins.

"You're right," you reply. "I won't."

Cid snorts, a sound that you have grown used to over the years, and reaches for the bottle of liquor sitting on her desk. You watch her pour two glasses and slide one over.

"What's the job?"

Her answering grin reveals sharp teeth, and you know you're going to like what she’s about to say. "The biggest one I've ever landed. It's gonna be worth a fortune."

"Well, spill." You lean forward, propping your elbows on your knees.

"There's this artifact." Cid lowers her voice. "A crystal."

You frown. Not what you were expecting.

"Oh."

"It's supposed to give its bearer great power," Cid continues, undeterred by your lack of enthusiasm.

"Sounds like a load of bantha shit to me."

"Yeah, I know." The Trandoshan sighs, scratching her chin with her claw. "I told him I didn't believe in that crap, but the guy said he was willing to pay us 500,000 credits. Can you believe that? I can finally fix this place up, make it nice."

"500,000, huh?"

"Yeah."

You purse your lips. "Why don't we just grab the thing and sell it ourselves? Seems like there might be people out there who would be interested."

Cid narrows her eyes. "That's not how I do business, kid. If the client knows the location, it's better if we just do the job and collect the pay."

"And what if it's a set-up?"

"Then we deal with it." Cid leans back in her chair, taking a sip from her glass. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"I see." You pick up your own glass and take a swig. The liquid burns as it makes its way down your throat, but you enjoy the feeling. Better than sitting here sober, anyway. “This sounds too easy, Cid. All I have to do is go to this place and grab the crystal? That's it?"

"It's a little more complicated than that.” Cid shifts in her seat. You bite back a groan. “You see, it's already been stolen. The client hired us to find it and bring it back to him. He's got the money and the location of the thief."

"Oh, that's wonderful," you say. "Anything else I should know?”

"The thief is on his way to Nal Hutta to make a deal," Cid says, and your heart leaps to your throat. You immediately start to shake your head, the words escaping your lips in a rush.

"Cid, no. I'm not going back there."

"You go where I tell you to go.” She bares her sharp teeth, hissing.

"Cid, I'm not."

Cid snarls and rises to her feet. Her hands slam down on the desk and rattle the glass and the bottle. “This is a huge job, kid. We're gonna make bank."

"Why don't you send someone else?"

"Because I'm sending you.” She jabs a claw in your direction. "I've got a lot riding on this, so I need you to go and bring me the damn crystal."

You sigh, leaning back in your chair. The fight bleeds out of you as you realize that you won't be able to change her mind. “How?”

Cid's demeanor changes, and she relaxes, settling back into her seat. She picks up her glass and takes a sip, gesturing toward you with it. "It's pretty simple, really. You’re going back to your roots. Word around Hutta Town is Nola’s cantina is looking for new dancers, and I said I knew just the girl for the job.”

You feel yourself tense, and your fingers clench the arms of the chair.

"Oh, so you want me to dance for this guy? Maybe suck him off in the back room while I'm at it?" you snap, not bothering to mask the disgust in your voice.

Cid doesn't seem affected by your words, her expression remaining neutral. "Do whatever you have to, kid." She shrugs. "Just bring me back that crystal."

You take a deep breath, exhaling loudly. "Fine."

“What?” 

A voice just outside the door gives you both pause. Your eyes widen, and Cid looks downright murderous.

A moment later, Hunter bursts into the room, boots eating up the ground between him and Cid's desk before you can blink. He crosses his arms, fixing Cid with a look that would've made a lesser being tremble. 

“Absolutely not."

Your eyes widen in disbelief, and Cid's lip curls.

“You should keep that big nose out of business that doesn’t concern you, bandana,” Cid hisses, rising from her chair again. “She’s a big girl. One who works for me and does what I tell her to."

You sigh and rub your temples. "Hunter, please —"

"No," he snaps, his gaze still trained on the Trandoshan. “You’re sending her to steal from the Hutts without backup. That concerns me.”

“Hunter, I'll be fine,” you try to interject.

“Like hell you will be.” He glares at you, and you blink, mouth falling open. You haven't seen him this worked up in a long time, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. You rack your memory for the last time someone came to your defense like this and come up short. It’s a little flattering, but it also stings a bit.

Cid slams her fist down on the desk. You flinch, and Hunter doesn't move.

"Listen closely," Cid growls. "She's my employee. I'm her boss. She's not your responsibility. Now get out of here."

Hunter's gaze is hard. You watch the muscles in his jaw twitch.

"She can also take care of herself," you interject, and Cid points at you.

"That's right, she can."

Hunter whirls on you, his face incredulous.

"You can't be serious," he spits.

"I've done a lot worse for a lot less," you remind him, standing up. You're trying to stay calm, but his words are starting to get under your skin. You hate that you have to explain yourself.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," Hunter snaps. He’s nearly shouting now, and you grit your teeth. You're starting to lose your patience, and you can feel a familiar tightness building in your chest.

"I don't care how you feel. She's been doing this for a long time," Cid growls, baring her teeth. “Longer than you’ve been alive, probably."

Hunter turns to face her, and you watch him square his shoulders, preparing to go toe-to-toe with the Trandoshan. You wonder if he has a death wish, but part of you can't help but be intrigued by his brazen display.

You shake your head, reaching for the bottle of liquor.

You know Hunter and Cid are arguing, their voices becoming more heated, but the words fade away as you lift your glass to your lips and swallow. The alcohol is sweet and strong, burning down your throat and spreading heat through your limbs. You’re beginning to feel better already until the next words out of Hunter’s mouth hit your ears.

"You can't expect me to sit idly by and allow—"

“Allow?” You slam the glass down on the desk. The sound echoes throughout the small office, and Cid and Hunter both fall silent, turning their heads toward you. You fix Hunter with a glare, your eyes narrowed. "Excuse me, what exactly do you think you can do to stop me?"

Hunter's jaw clenches. "I can make you see reason."

"Or you could let her do her job," Cid says, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. “Listen to her if you know what’s good for you.”

"No." He crosses his arms. “She's not going alone. It’s suicide.”

"Well, it's a good thing it's not up to you." You stand up and take a step closer, squaring up to him. You're shorter than he is, and he has a good deal of bulk on you, but he doesn't intimidate you.

Hunter's eyes widen, and you think he looks a little taken aback, maybe even a bit impressed. But the emotion doesn't last long.

His brow furrows, and you can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to find another way to convince you to listen to him.

"I'm not letting you go."

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. This is not the first time you've disagreed about a mission, and it certainly won't be the last, but this time, you won't allow him to talk you out of it. Not with a take this big.

"Look, Hunter," you say, keeping your tone light, "I appreciate the concern, but I can handle it."

His expression shifts, and the anger and frustration in his eyes give way to disappointment. You try to ignore the way it stings.

"This is how I make my living. It's just a job, like any other," you say softly, hoping he can hear the sincerity in your voice.

He looks at you for a moment longer, his eyes searching your face.  Then he crosses his arms and shakes his head. "That's not good enough for me."

"Well, it's all I have."

He sighs and closes his eyes. “No. You're not going alone.” 

“Hunter—“

“I’m coming with you.”

The air around you seems to still. Cid sucks in a breath. Your brows knit together.

"What?" you ask.

Hunter's eyes meet yours, his expression determined. "I'm coming with you. You need backup."

You shake your head. "Hunter, no. I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking." He's smiling, and it's a soft, genuine smile. He places a hand on your shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. His gaze is warm, and it fills you with an unexpected sense of calm. "I'm offering."

You can tell he's serious, and the thought of him accompanying you both excites and terrifies you. You know you're strong and capable, but the idea of working with a partner again has you feeling nervous.

And the idea of working with Hunter specifically? Well, it does things to your insides that you don't care to examine too closely.

"What about the others?" you ask, and he shrugs.

"They can manage without me."

"That's not fair. You can't abandon them because of me.”

Hunter gives your shoulder a little shake, his expression earnest. "I'm not abandoning anyone," he says gently. “I'm coming with you. They will be fine. They're more than capable of taking care of themselves."

"I... Hunter, I don't know."

He lets out a quiet chuckle and removes his hand from your shoulder, the absence of his touch making you feel strangely bereft.

"We can argue about it, or we can agree to go together," he offers.

"Hunter—"

"Oh, this is too precious," Cid mutters, cutting off your objection. She looks back and forth between you, a toothy grin spreading across her face. "Look, lovebirds, I won't stop you if you decide to go together, but you're splitting her cut."

You open your mouth to protest, but Hunter speaks before you can, his voice low. "Deal."

"What?"

"Deal," he repeats, looking at you.

You shake your head, running your hands over your face. Your skin is burning, your mind racing. How could he be so willing to just...leave his team like this? To offer himself up for the sake of your mission, for the sake of your well-being?

It makes no sense.

And yet...

"Fine. We'll do it your way," you finally say.

"Good." Hunter gives you a curt nod.

"Good." Cid chuckles, the sound like a growl in her throat. "Here's the plan..."

“Do you really think I can’t do this alone?” you ask after nearly an hour of silence between you.

You're both en route to Nal Hutta, traveling undercover in an older model cargo ship, and you've been quiet most of the journey. Hunter had expected you to be angry with him, and perhaps a part of you was, but you've also been withdrawn and quiet. You spent the first part of the trip going over the details of the mission, and he can't help but feel like something has shifted between you.

He doesn't regret his decision, not even for a second.

He knows that you can handle yourself, that you've survived in the galaxy on your own since before he was even decanted, and he respects that. But it doesn't stop him from wanting to be there, to protect you if he needs to. It's something he can't explain, an instinct that he feels deep down in his bones.

But you're right. It isn't his place to make this decision for you.

Hunter turns toward you, his gaze roaming over your form. You're seated next to him, your legs crossed, and your gaze is focused out the viewport, watching the blue streaks of hyperspace pass you by. He wants to reach out and place his hand on your knee, to reassure you that his intentions are not meant to be condescending.

Instead, he chooses his words carefully, speaking slowly.

"I didn't say that."

You frown. "You were thinking it."

He sighs, turning back toward the viewport. "I don't think you need anyone," he admits, his voice quiet. "You're a…very capable woman."

You scoff. Yeah, he definitely could've phrased that better.

You lean forward, your hands folded together between your knees. Hunter can't help but admire the way the fabric of your shirt pulls taut against the curves of your body before he forces his eyes away.

"That's not what you said in Cid's office."

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He can't deny that his words were a bit harsh, that he allowed his frustration and concern to get the better of him, and he can only hope that he hasn't managed to completely ruin his chances with you.

"I'm sorry about that," he says. "But I can't help how I feel."

"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, your tone sharp. Hunter turns his head, finding you looking at him, your gaze curious and intense.

"I—" He pauses, licking his lips, searching for the right words. He can't very well tell you the truth. That you've come to mean more to him than he ever intended, that he's grown to care about you and respect you. That he's not sure he can let you out of his sight again, at least not until this is all over.

"It means that I'm concerned," he finally says, settling on a version of the truth that feels easier, less risky.

"You don't need to be," you reply, crossing your arms.

Hunter wants to reassure you, but the truth is, he's worried about you. The thought of you walking into that den of Hutts, alone and defenseless, makes his blood boil.

You've been tight-lipped about your past, and he hasn't pressed you, but he can tell you're hiding something. And the idea that you're going to be forced to relive it, forced to face whatever trauma you've endured, leaves him feeling uneasy.

He has his own demons. He can only imagine what yours might be.

"Look, I know what I'm doing," you say when he doesn't reply, your voice softening.

"I know you do,” he says quietly, his fingers drumming against the armrest.

“Then why did you come?”

He inhales sharply, exhaling through his nose. It isn’t an easy question to answer, especially given the tumultuous state of your relationship. He’s long since given up denying his feelings for you, but you're a wildcard. You’re unpredictable, and he never knows where he stands with you.

There are times when he feels like he could just tell you, but the timing is never right. You’re always on your way out the door, or off to some job or another. You flit in and out of his life like a ghost, and he can never seem to catch you.

And then there are moments when you're close, when he's caught you staring at him, when your fingers have lingered on him just a bit longer than necessary. There are times when he swears he sees something there, something soft and tender in the way you look at him. But then you put the walls back up, and he's left wondering if he’ll ever truly be able to get close to you.

Still, the desire to confess his feelings is always there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for an opportunity. At this point, it's almost inevitable, but he knows that it will take time, patience.

And so, for now, Hunter settles on an answer that isn't entirely the truth, but that's not exactly a lie, either.

"I couldn't let you go alone."

You blink. "Why not?"

He's quiet for a moment, searching for the right words. 

"It’s not a regular job, cyar’ika. This is dangerous. I know from experience how often missions go sideways, variables change…with the Hutts involved, it complicates things.” He sighs. “And I couldn’t just stand by and watch you go into that den alone."

You purse your lips. "I could handle it."

"I know you could," he says, the corners of his lips quirking up.

"You're insufferable," you mumble, shaking your head.

He chuckles. "Maybe, but I'm telling the truth."

"Mmm."

You look back out the viewport, your expression thoughtful. He watches you for a moment, taking in the subtle curve of your cheek, the delicate arch of your brow. There's a slight flush to your skin, and he knows that you're trying to hide the way his words are affecting you.

It's adorable. You don't blush easily, and seeing the color rise in your cheeks makes him want to lean closer and press his lips to your temple.

The urge is almost overwhelming, and he's forced to look away.

It's strange, the effect you have on him. He's used to keeping his emotions in check, used to being in control, but around you, he feels like a ship spinning out of control. You make him feel things he's never felt before, and it scares him. Hunter is far from the only man who has noticed how beautiful you are, but it's more than just your physical appearance that draws him to you.

There's something about the way you move, the way you carry yourself, the way you speak, the way you fight. It all appeals to him on a primal level. He feels protective of you, and the desire to keep you safe is strong, but the urge to make you his is even stronger.

He's not sure if it's just lust or something more, but he knows that he wants you. Badly.

He just doesn't know how to tell you.

"So, you came along because you were worried about me?"

His attention returns to you, and he finds you looking at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. He doesn't return the expression.

"Yes."

Your smile falters, and you sigh. "Hmm."

"What does that mean?"

You turn away from him again, staring out at the stars. He can tell that there's something on your mind, something that's bothering you.

He knows that asking will only push you further away, and so he bites his tongue, resisting the urge to prod.

"Just that you're a bit of an ass, is all," you say, and the words are soft, without any real bite.

He laughs, and you shoot him a small grin.

"I never said I wasn't," he retorts, and you snort.

"Yeah, I suppose not." You smile.

Silence stretches between you, but it's not as awkward as he expects. Instead, it's comfortable, and he allows himself to relax a bit. He missed this in the short time you've been apart, the easy banter, the feeling of being close to you.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped," he says after a moment, keeping his tone light.

You shake your head. "It's okay."

He studies your face. There's no anger there, only acceptance. It's not the reaction he expected, but he's grateful for it.

"Really," he continues. "I didn't mean to make you feel like you couldn't do it."

"It's okay, Hunter." You pat his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. "I know you're just looking out for me."

He swallows hard, his eyes dropping to where your hand rests on his arm. You must notice his gaze, because your fingers curl slightly, and a shiver runs down his spine.

“I appreciate you tagging along. Even if I don’t think it’s necessary,” you admit, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s nice to have some company for once.”

His heart swells at the confession, and he nods, unable to speak. You're looking at him with such openness and affection that it nearly knocks the breath from his lungs. He's grateful when you finally pull away and return your gaze to the viewport.

"Just don't let it go to your head," you add.

Hunter chuckles, leaning back in his seat. He watches you out of the corner of his eye, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he admires you.

It's not the first time he's wondered what it would be like to kiss you, to run his fingers through your hair, to feel the warmth of your body pressed against his, but it's the first time he's considered acting on his desires.

It's a tempting thought.

One that he quickly pushes aside, not wanting to make a fool of himself. You're not some random stranger at the cantina or an easy conquest. You're important to him, and he wants to take things slow, to treat you with the respect and reverence that you deserve. No matter how attractive he finds you, no matter how badly he wants you, he can wait.

He hopes.

Hunter feels his body heat up, and he forces himself to look away, clearing his throat. Now is not the time. You turn your head and give him a questioning look, and he realizes he hasn't spoken in several minutes.

"So, um..." he begins, trailing off as he tries to find the words.

"What?"

"I didn't know you could dance," he says.

You raise an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh?"

He nods. "I don't think I've ever seen you dance before."

You smirk, and the look makes him feel warm. Your brow arches. "Oh, you don't know the half of it."

He doesn't know what he was expecting you to say, but it wasn't that. His eyes widen slightly, and he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Is that right?"

You nod, crossing your legs. He tries not to stare, but his eyes are drawn to the exposed skin of your thigh, and he swallows hard. You laugh softly, and the sound makes him look back up at you.

"Yeah, it's part of my act."

"What?"

You nod. "Back in the day, I had a routine."

"A routine?" he repeats. Not because he didn't hear you, but because he doesn't know how else to respond. His mind is supplying him with all sorts of images, and he can't seem to focus on anything else.

"Yeah. It's pretty standard. Some dancing, some acting, a little bit of seduction..." You trail off, giving him a coy look.

Hunter blinks, his brain finally catching up with the conversation. He sits up straighter in his chair, clearing his throat.

 "Seduction, huh?"

"What? You don't believe me? That hurts, Hunter. I'm hurt." You pout, placing a hand on your chest, and he bites back a groan.

"No, I, uh... I didn't say that."

"I can be very convincing when I want to be," you murmur, leaning closer.

His heart rate quickens, and he licks his lips. He has no doubt that you could be, especially with the way you're looking at him. He's seen how good you are at manipulating others, and he knows you're probably just messing with him, but his body is responding to your advances nonetheless.

He takes a deep breath, his voice low and husky when he speaks.

"You should show me sometime."

The tension between you is palpable, and he finds himself leaning closer to you, his body moving of its own accord. Your gaze drops to his mouth as the space between you shrinks. His skin tingles, his lips parting, and he's almost certain that you're going to kiss him.

Instead, you sit back, grinning.

"Maybe I will."

He exhales slowly, his heart hammering against his ribcage. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. You're watching him with an amused look on your face, and he can't help but chuckle.

You're infuriating, and he should be frustrated, but he isn't. You're teasing him, and it's working. You're pushing him to his limits, testing his self-control, and he's enjoying it. It's not something he's experienced often, but he's finding that he likes it. He's never met anyone who has made him feel like this, and he wants more.

Hunter leans back in his chair, breaking eye contact, and you giggle. He closes his eyes and rubs his hands over his face, groaning softly. When he looks up, you're watching him with a knowing smirk on your face. He can't help but smile back.

"We should probably focus on the task at hand," you say, your voice light and teasing.

"Yeah. Probably." He shakes his head, the corners of his lips still turned up.

"Right. So...let's go over the plan one more time."

He nods and takes a deep breath. "Right."

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Nal Hutta smells every bit as awful as you remember. The stench is overwhelming — the swampy miasma of rotting vegetation, pollution, and the smell of too many beings packed into a small area. Inside the cantina isn’t much better, but at least you can breathe without choking on the fetid air.

You make your way through the crowded club, the music blaring and the lights dim. You can feel eyes on you, the patrons watching as you pass. You ignore them, keeping your gaze straight ahead. You're dressed to impress, and your clothes leave little to the imagination. You're showing a lot of skin, and while the outfit is functional, you still feel a little vulnerable, but you've always enjoyed being the center of attention.

You've changed a lot in the last few years, but there are some things that will always stay the same.

Your hips sway to the beat as you cross the dance floor. You catch a few admiring glances and appreciative stares, but the one you feel most keenly is Hunter's. He's watching you, keeping his distance, and you can feel his gaze burning into your back as sure as if it was a physical thing.

Normally you find Hunter’s protectiveness endearing, but right now, it's nothing short of infuriating. When you returned to the ship to tell him Nola had given you the job, he insisted on coming along. Not that you would have allowed him to stay behind, but it would have been nice to have a say in the matter.

You had hoped that by allowing him to accompany you, he would have enough faith in you to allow you to work alone.

You were wrong.

He's been glued to your side since the moment you landed, hovering, and watching, and making you nervous. It was like pulling teeth getting him to agree to hang back and let you handle the situation on your own, and even now, his presence is distracting.

You try your best not to look Hunter’s way. You’re supposed to be making eyes at every customer, after all, not just the brooding man posted dutifully in a corner booth, an untouched drink in his hand. And he is brooding. You can practically feel his displeasure coming off him in waves as his eyes follow you around from table to table.

Thankfully, no one else seems to notice. They’re much too busy drinking, gambling, and attempting to grope you as you walk by to detect anything amiss. Your gaze flicks up briefly, and you catch his eye, and you see the way they narrow as a drunk patron reaches out and grabs your wrist.

You freeze, the touch like ice on your skin. The man yanks you forward, pulling you close enough to speak directly into your ear. "How much?"

You stiffen, and your stomach roils.

"Sorry," you mutter, pulling your wrist free. "Not for sale."

You don't wait for his response. Instead, you turn on your heel and walk away as quickly as you can without breaking into a run.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you duck around a corner, pressing yourself against the wall as you take a few breaths, trying to calm yourself. It's embarrassing, really, how rattled you are by such a simple gesture. It's only a stupid drunk patron, and yet here you are, hiding in the shadows and struggling to pull yourself together.

You curse under your breath. You’ve done this a hundred times, and you aren’t some wide-eyed child. There's no reason to let the encounter affect you so deeply.

Except, it's the first time you've been back in a place like this since you left.

You shake your head, taking a deep breath and forcing your hands to unclench.

Get a grip, you tell yourself.

A hand settles on your shoulder, and you flinch, your hands flying up in front of you.

“Easy, sweetie," a vibrant pink Twi'Lek murmurs.

You lower your hands, giving the woman a shaky smile. "Sorry, Isa."

"I get it." Isa shrugs, the motion jostling the crystalline beads dripping down her bodysuit. Isa pulls off the look far better than you could ever hope to, and she's got an ease about her that comes from years of experience. It’s no surprise she’s the longest-standing employee here and the most well tipped.

"I don't blame you for being skittish,” she says, retracting her hand. She makes a disgusted noise in her throat. “These people are all sleemos. You want something stronger to drink before the show?"

You shake your head. As much as you'd love one, you're going to need a clear head to make it out of this alive. "Thanks, though," you say.

"Alright, just let me know if you change your mind. You're gonna do great, kid. Just stick to the choreography, and you'll be fine."

You nod, stomach in knots. Isa breezes by and steps on stage as the crowd hollers and cat-calls, the music beginning. You watch as she performs her opening routine, her movements hypnotic and graceful. She's a beautiful woman, and you can see why the patrons are so drawn to her.

"Hey," Hunter's voice is in your ear, his tone soft. You shiver at the sound. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. "Just a little nervous, is all."

He's silent for a moment, and you picture him frowning. You know he's probably not happy that you're doing this, but there's nothing he can do about it. Not now, anyway.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine, Hunter."

"You can always abort the mission," he says, and your stomach sinks.

"I'm fine," you say, and you can't keep the edge from your voice. "Don't worry about me."

You make your way behind the stage, palms sweaty and pulse pounding. As you wait for the cue, the music changes and spotlights hit the stage, bathing it in bright light. You watch Isa dance gracefully and feel a twinge of envy. You used to be like her, graceful and seductive.

You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, steeling yourself. You can do this. All you need to do is play your part and keep your head on straight. The target is the only one that matters.

It doesn't take long for Isa to step off stage, smiling and waving to the crowd before passing you with an encouraging grin.

The announcer calls out your name, and you step onto the stage.

Hunter has been a soldier for years, and he's seen a lot of things that would make most people recoil in disgust or horror. He's been shot at, stabbed, nearly blown up on more than one occasion, and that was all before he and his brothers started working for Cid.

But nothing has ever shaken him the way watching you perform does.

His mouth goes dry, and his jaw drops. He's thankful the cantina is so dim, because he knows he's staring, but he can't help himself.

You're beautiful, your hair swept up, the pale blue light casting a glow over you. And the way your hips move, and your back arches, and your lips curve into a teasing smile, make his blood heat and his heart pound. His eyes follow you as you move, your body twisting and undulating to the music. It's a sensual display, and one that he knows is part of the act, but your movements seem to reach out to him, pulling him in.

Your hips roll, and your fingers slide down your thighs, the sheer fabric of your dress clinging to your body, and the light from the stage highlights the curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts. Your movements are graceful, and it's clear that you're no stranger to performing, and yet, there's an edge to them. An intensity. A hint of danger.

The way you're moving, the way you're looking at the crowd, the way you're teasing the audience... It's like watching a predator stalking its prey, and he finds himself transfixed, his body reacting to your every move. 

The crowd is eating out of the palm of your hand, and Hunter is right along with them, transfixed by you.

As if sensing his thoughts, you glance at him, a wicked smile curving your lips. It's a look that makes his pulse race and his imagination run wild. He can almost imagine you whispering in his ear, telling him to meet you after the show. He can see you taking his hand, leading him to your room and letting him explore every inch of your body. He can picture what it would feel like to touch you, to taste you, to bury himself inside you.

Your gaze lingers for a moment longer before you turn away, the music growing louder. When you spin around and bend over, giving him a full view of your backside, he knows it's intentional.

You're teasing him, and he can't say that he minds.

Your hips sway and gyrate, your hands traveling over your body. He knows he should look away, should give you the respect and privacy that you deserve, but he can't.

He wants you.

The thought hits him like a freight train, and he feels the blood rush to his groin. His breath catches, and he licks his lips, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. It's a thought he's had before, but it's never been this powerful. It's more than desire, more than a passing fancy. It's a burning need that he can't deny. He's never wanted someone the way he wants you, and the realization leaves him reeling.

He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down and focus on the clientele. He can hear the wolf whistles and cat calls, and it makes his skin crawl. But as much as he wants to go up on stage and put an end to this, he knows he can't. Not yet, at least.

Instead, he does what he does best and watches the room, observing. Most of the audience is made up of humans, a few Twi'leks, and a smattering of other species. There are a couple of Hutts, their massive bulk taking up two tables, and several other creatures in the dark corners of the cantina. Hunter has a feeling they're the reason for the high number of bouncers posted at the doors.

This is the sort of place that draws the dregs of the galaxy, he thinks, just as his eyes catch sight of a pale horned head at the bar. His back is to him, but he doesn't need to see his face to know that it's your man.

Hunter tenses, and his fingers twitch.

There you are.

As you dance, you can hear the crowd cheering, and you let the music carry you. You’ve spent many nights in places like this, and you can read a crowd. You know what the patrons want to see, and you can give it to them. You just hope you were attracting the right attention.

When the song ends, you give a little bow and blow a kiss at the crowd, the smile plastered on your face feeling more natural than it did a moment ago. The applause and cheers follow you as you turn to leave the stage, and your legs feel like jelly as you walk, your breath coming hard.

“I have eyes on the target. Zabrak at the bar in the blue vest," Hunter rasps in your ear.

You glance out of the corner of your eye toward the bar. A Zabrak you saw earlier was wearing a blue vest, and sure enough, there he was. He’s in conversation with the droid bartender, which gives you the opportunity to examine him further. You spot his hip pack — likely where he’s storing Cid's crystal — and smile. It’s almost too easy.

The target turns suddenly and catches you looking at him. You mask your surprise with a flirtatious wink, and his expression immediately dissolves into one of interest. He takes his drink from the bartender and lifts it in your direction before taking a sip.

Over the rim of the glass, you can see the darkness of his gaze, and a plan immediately begins to form in your mind. It's not the one you'd intended to follow, but it will work just as well.

“I’m engaging,” you mutter quietly to yourself.

"What? No!" Hunter hisses in your ear.

"Hunter, trust me," you insist. "This is what I do. Let me do my job."

"Your job?" he snaps, his voice rough.

"Yes," you reply sharply, your irritation rising. “I can get the crystal without you having to lift a finger. Just keep your head down and let me do my thing."

"I don’t like this."

"Trust me."

Hunter is silent, and you can practically feel his disapproval.

Fine. Let him be upset. You can handle yourself.

You take a deep breath, your eyes still locked with the Zabrak. He’s decently attractive, with strong features and an impressive physique. Not the worst mark you'd ever had, that's for sure. You can do this.

You give him a coy smile, turning and making your way down the stairs and over to the bar. Your hips sway as you walk, and you put a little extra swing in your step. He keeps his eyes on you as you approach, and the closer you get, the more you can see the clear lust in them. Cid mentioned he had a thing for human women during the briefing, but this was something else.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" he says, his voice a low rumble.

You smile and lean against the bar, your fingers tracing patterns on the worn surface. "I was hoping you’d say that."

"Why's that?"

"Because you seem like the kind of man who could show a girl a good time." Yuck.

"Is that right?" he asks, leaning closer. His hand brushes against your hip, and his breath tickles your neck. "And what makes you say that?"

"Call it a hunch," you say, smiling coyly.

"You have good instincts."

"I have a few," you say, your gaze flicking to the pack at his waist. You lean forward, your hand cupping his cheek. “Is this seat taken?” 

The Zabrak smiles, revealing yellowed teeth and sharp canines as his eyes rake over you. He sets his drink down on the bar and turns toward you to pat his lap with a clawed hand.

Pushing down the shudder threatening to creep up your spine, you slide onto his legs. Your arms wrap around his neck so your fingers can caress the back of his bare skull. The leathery texture of his skin feels wrong, but the claws on your hips are much worse.

His fingers squeeze your flesh, and you fight the urge to flinch. You hate this. Hate being this close to someone, hate the way their hands roam your body. It's too familiar, too dangerous. You can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, and your skin crawls. But this is the only way to get what you need.

"I'm Vesh," he tells you, his voice deep and gravelly.

You respond with your name, your voice a whisper.

Vesh repeats it, and his fingers flex on your skin. "It's a pleasure."

"Mmm," you murmur, your hand trailing down his chest.

“Haven’t seen you around here before,” he says as you swing your legs around to dangle off the side of his own.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. At his nod, you lean in closer, nose nearly brushing his ear. “It’s my first day.”

He draws back and grasps your chin with a clawed thumb and forefinger. You resist the urge to jerk your head away as he brings your face close to his.

"Is that right?" he asks, his breath hot on your skin.

"Mmhmm," you nod, your fingers curling into his vest. “You’ll tell me if I’m doing a bad job, won’t you?”

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he growls, his hand sliding up your thigh, "I'll make sure you're nice and thoroughly trained."

The innuendo is glaringly obvious, and the implication is clear. You can't help but wonder if he thinks he's being charming. He's not.

You force yourself not to recoil from his touch. Instead, you lean in, pressing your body against his. "I hope so."

You hum, running your hands over his chest, the muscles beneath your palms tense and firm. Your gaze drops to his hip pack. It would be so easy to snatch the crystal and run, but the last thing you need is to alert him or the guards. Instead, you allow him to tilt your head, your body pliant in his grasp.

As he leans down to kiss your neck, you can hear a noise that sounds suspiciously like a growl over the comlink.

“I’m coming over," Hunter rasps.

“Don’t!” you blurt out. Vesh makes to withdraw, and you quickly hold onto his neck to keep him in place. “Um, don’t stop. You’re so good at that.”

He needs little encouragement from there. With dry lips, he mouths at your neck and chest, hands moving to caress your waist and thighs. You give sighs in all the right places, leaning into his touch, all the while feeling a pair of eyes burning into you from across the room.

It's an easy plan. One you've pulled off more times than you can count. Seduce the target, steal the goods, and run.

What you didn't anticipate was your reaction to Hunter's presence. The way his gaze is practically boring into you, his displeasure rolling off him in waves. Or the possessive noise that escapes him when Vesh touches you. It's thrilling and terrifying all at once.

It's been a long time since someone has felt so protective of you, and while it's unnecessary, there's a part of you that likes it. It's a heady feeling, knowing that someone cares enough about you to get angry on your behalf.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Vesh's hand slip under your dress. You tense, your thighs clenching around his leg. He growls in your ear, low and throaty, and his hips buck up, grinding against you. His claws rake across your skin, leaving burning trails behind.

It takes every ounce of your willpower not to pull away and run. Instead, you force yourself to stay put and focus on the task at hand.

Vesh's free hand reaches up to cup your breast, and your breath hitches.

"So eager," he murmurs, his voice thick and heavy with lust.

"I can't wait," you purr, your eyes sliding over his shoulder to meet Hunter's. His gaze is molten, and his jaw is set, a muscle ticking in his cheek. You force yourself to turn back to Vesh, a smile on your lips. "Why don't we take this somewhere private?"

"I like the way you think." He grins and nearly shoves you off his lap as he moves to stand.

Vesh leads you forward with a hand on your lower back towards the staircase leading to the private rooms. You glance over your shoulder in the hopes of meeting Hunter's eyes, but he's nowhere to be found. Kriff. You wanted to do this alone, and now here you are. Alone.

Once you reach the top of the stairs, the target takes you by the hand and leads you down the hallway. It's empty, and you can feel your stomach sinking with every step you take. You try your best not to drag your feet, but the hot breath on your neck and the hand pressed against you is anything but encouraging.

When you arrive at a door at the end of the hall, he crowds you against it, eagerly pressing his hardness to your lower back as he wraps an arm around your stomach. He types in the code, and as soon as the door slides open, he releases you to shove you inside.

The room is a small square with a bed and a single chair. The only other door leads to a refresher, but much more worth noting is the small window embedded deep in the wall behind the bed. It'll require climbing up to reach, but it's large enough for you to slip out and drop to the roof below. Easy.

The door slides shut, casting the room in shadow.

Time to put your skills to use.

"Don't move," Vesh orders. There’s a strange, misplaced sound, like metal clicking, and it takes you a moment too soon to realize.

You turn slowly, and the sight that greets you makes your blood run cold. The barrel of the Vesh’s hand cannon stares you down, his glowering face just behind it. 

“I must say, you put on quite the display back there,” he says with a tilt of his head.

You swallow hard, your eyes flicking from the blaster to his face.

"But you just had to go and ruin things, didn't you?" he snarls, taking a step toward you. “You almost had me convinced. But I know what you’re really after.”

You freeze, your eyes widening. You try to keep your expression neutral, but you can feel the panic rising in your chest. Your eyes flick to the door behind him, hoping beyond hope that it hadn’t locked automatically.

"You think I haven’t dealt with thieves before? You're not the first,” he sneers. “Though I will admit, you are the most attractive."

"Well, you got me." You hold your hands up, palms facing outward. "I'm sorry. Now, just let me go, and we can forget this ever happened."

Vesh gives a mirthless laugh. "Oh, I don't think so." He steps closer, his grip on the blaster tightening. "I think you're going to stay right here and do exactly what I tell you."

“Wait—let’s talk. I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.”

“How about this: you strip, and I’ll think about not blowing your pretty little head off. How does that sound?"

Your eyes dart from the gun to the door, then back again. Your mind is racing, and you know you need to think fast. If you can get close enough to him, catch him by surprise, you might be able to make it out of here in one piece with your prize.

You bite your lip, considering. If you play your cards right, this could work in your favor.

"Okay, okay. I'll do whatever you want," you say, your voice trembling.

"That's my girl," he growls.

Slowly, you reach up to the straps of your dress, letting them slide down your shoulders. You can feel his eyes on you, drinking in every inch of skin as it’s revealed. You hate the way he looks at you, and the thought that this is for him makes your stomach turn, but you need to buy yourself enough time.

Vesh’s breathing becomes heavy, and he shifts his weight, his grip on the blaster slackening ever so slightly.

"More," he growls, his eyes darting to the exposed swell of your breasts.

You take a step forward, then another, until the barrel of the blaster is pressed against your collarbone. The metal is cold, and the promise of death lingers in the air. But it's enough. It gives you just enough room to maneuver.

You prime yourself to spring forward, your fingers closing around the handle of your knife, but you’re thrown off when the door slides open, bathing the room in the light of the hall.

A gloved hand appears, pushing the blaster aside, and Vesh lets out a surprised grunt. You stumble backwards, your back hitting the wall as you watch Hunter take down the Zabrak. You barely blink, and then the target is flat on his back, his weapon kicked aside and Hunter's foot pressing his windpipe into the floor.

He leans down, and your breath catches.

"Stay down," he growls.

Vesh sputters and coughs, his hands clutching at Hunter's boot. He tries to speak, but Hunter's foot only presses harder.

"What the hell are you doing?" you gasp, your heart hammering in your chest.

"I told you I was coming," he replies, his eyes never leaving the man underneath his boot.

"I had it under control," you insist.

"Like hell you did!"

"What is it with men not thinking I can handle myself?" you demand, throwing your hands up.

"I can't leave you alone for a minute without you nearly getting yourself killed," Hunter snarls, the anger rolling off him in waves. Vesh pushes against his boot, but Hunter's knee presses into his chest, effectively pinning him.

"Get off me!" Vesh spits.

Hunter leans in, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "You’re lucky I don’t kill you."

"What the hell are you even doing here, Hunter?"

"Making sure you don't do something stupid," he shoots back.

"I had everything under control."

"Under control? It looks to me like he was about to have his way with you!"

"That was the plan," you retort.

"Plan?" Hunter's gaze snaps to yours, and his eyes are dark. He looks furious. "You mean you were going to let him—"

"He was about to give me what I want," you cut him off, your temper flaring.

Hunter's expression hardens, and he turns back to the Zabrak, pressing his weight onto the man's throat. Vesh coughs and struggles against the pressure, but Hunter's relentless.

"Hunter, stop," you shout, panic rising in your chest. This is going downhill fast, and if you don't do something, he is going to ruin everything.

"No," Hunter says, his voice tight. "He doesn't get to hurt you."

You move forward, grabbing his shoulder and tugging. He doesn't budge. "Hunter, listen to me."

He opens his mouth to reply, but he hesitates, tilting his head. A second later, you hear heavy footsteps pound up the stairs and down the hall.

"We need to go," he snaps.

"No, wait, we’re so close—"

"Now!" Hunter pulls Vesh up and pushes him against the wall before grabbing your arm and dragging you to the window. He throws the latch, and it swings open.

"Go," he orders, gesturing for you to climb through.

"What about you?"

"I'm right behind you. Go!"

You don't need to be told twice. You scramble up the wall and slide through the window, dropping down onto the roof below. The sound of shouting and running feet comes from behind you, and you spin around to see Hunter climbing out the window.

"Come on," he says, grabbing your arm again and pulling you across the roof.

You run to the edge, and you hesitate. "It's too far," you say, looking down at the narrow street below. 

Hunter doesn't seem to hear you. He blows past you, scaling down the wall with ease. You watch him go, jaw slack. Is he really just going to leave you behind?

He reaches the bottom of the alley and turns back, his face illuminated by the glow of the street lamps. "Jump! I’ll catch you.”

“You can’t be serious!" You yell.

"Do you want to get caught or not?" he yells back, his arms spread wide.

You glance back, and your heart leaps into your throat. Vesh’s angry face appears in the window, followed by his hand cannon.

There's no time. You have to go.

Taking a deep breath, you jump.

For a terrifying moment, you feel weightless, suspended in midair. Then, strong arms wrap around you, catching you and pulling you close. You fall back against the wall together, and you bury your face in his neck, your heart pounding.

"See, I told you I'd catch you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're crazy," you mumble.

"And you're reckless."

You lean back and glare at him, and his grip on you tightens. You can't believe he dragged you away from the job like that. He ruined everything.

"What now?"

"Now we get the hell out of here and go home," he says, setting you down on your feet. You immediately pull out of his grasp, ignoring the way his hand lingers on your arm.

"What?" you hiss. "What about the job?"

"Forget the job." His hand moves to grab yours. "We're leaving."

You let out a sigh and let him pull you along. As you run through the streets, your mind races. The night didn’t go the way you planned, but somehow, you made it out. And if you’re honest with yourself, a part of you is relieved. Relieved that you didn’t have to go through with your plan. Relieved that Hunter was there to protect you. But your relief is tinged with frustration. Frustration at yourself for letting your guard down. Frustration at Hunter for being right. 

And, more than anything, frustration at the fact that you’re going home empty-handed. Again.

As you run, the sounds of the city fade away behind you, and you can't help but feel like this is only the beginning. Like this is just the start of your troubles. Because the truth is, Hunter’s right. You are reckless. And when it comes to your own safety, you’ll do whatever it takes to get what you want. Even if it means risking your life.

As soon as the two of you are back on the ship, the doors seal, the engine rumbles to life, and the atmosphere around you turns yellow and then black. You let out a breath and lean back in the copilot’s seat, your stomach roiling.

Hunter doesn't look at you.

He didn’t say anything as you entered the cockpit behind him, his jaw tense and his expression blank. When you sat down, he put the ship on autopilot, and then simply stared out the window, his eyes fixed on the stars.

You can't stand it. The tension in the air between you, the unspoken words. It’s suffocating. You've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and you hate it.

"Hunter..." you start, not even sure where you're going.

"Don't."

The word is harsh, sharp, and it cuts through you like a knife. Your mouth clamps shut, and you sit back in your seat, your eyes wide.

Hunter's gaze is still fixed on the stars, his expression inscrutable. You can't read him, can't tell what he's thinking. He's closed himself off to you, and it hurts more than you want to admit.

"Hunter, please."

He shakes his head, his fingers tightening on the controls. You can hear them creak under his grip. "You should shower.”

"What?"

"You should shower. Clean yourself up," he repeats, his voice tight.

"No," you snap, your temper flaring. You don't care if he's upset. He doesn't get to treat you like this.

His shoulders tense, and his jaw clenches.

“You smell like him,” he elaborates.

Your blood runs cold. You didn't notice. The adrenaline must have been covering up the scent, but now that he mentions it, you can't help but feel the ghostly touches. Hands and claws and lips on your skin, the scent of booze and cigarra smoke.

You suddenly feel guilty, and it’s not a feeling you're used to. Your hands clench into fists in your lap, and you try not to think about the way his lips felt on your neck, the way his hands felt on your body.

Your mouth opens and closes, the words stuck in your throat.

 “We’ll talk when you’re done,” Hunter says, his eyes still not meeting yours.

You sit there for a moment, your hands clenched tightly in your lap, and you can feel the heat building behind your eyes. You know he's right, but it doesn't make it any easier. 

“Fine.” You swallow thickly and stand up, your legs trembling slightly. The crystals dangling from your dress ping together with the movement, and you swear you see him flinch at the sound. You don't look back as you head out into the common room.

You grab some clean clothes and your toiletries and head into the refresher. When the door closes, you sigh and lean against it. You can still feel his hands on you, and you want to scrub your skin raw until there's nothing left. You shake your head and push the feeling away. It's not productive. Instead, you strip and step into the shower, allowing the water to wash away the night.

It was far from the first time this has happened to you, but it never gets easier, not entirely. You’re just numb to it. Just another in a long line of unsavory decisions you've had to make in an effort to survive in the galaxy. To feed yourself and keep a roof over your head. To get what you need. But this... this feels different, somehow.

Hunter shouldn’t have seen you that way. He shouldn’t have seen you so desperate, so willing to do whatever it took to get what you wanted. No one should see you that way. But especially not him.

You scrub your skin until it’s red and raw, but it doesn't seem to matter. The shame and frustration inside you continues to build, your fists clenching and unclenching as you replay the scene over and over in your mind.

The way Hunter looked at you, the anger and disgust in his eyes.

It's the same way everyone else looks at you.

You've always been seen as less than. Less than worthy. Less than capable. Less than important. It's not something that's ever bothered you before, but now, in front of him, it does.

It stings.

It shouldn't, but it does.

And you hate it.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to relax, your shoulders slumping. The water cascades down your body, washing away the grime and dirt, the evidence of the night's activities.

It's not a big deal, you tell yourself. Hunter was just trying to help. And maybe you needed the help.

As much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You were reckless. You're used to being on your own. To making your own decisions and dealing with the consequences. Working with a partner — a team — is new. Not bad, necessarily, but definitely new. Hunter made it clear from the start that you're in this together, but clearly he wasn’t ready to see you like this.

It isn't the first time you've used your body to get what you want, and it won't be the last. It's a useful tool, one you've honed to a razor-sharp edge. You can read a room and a target in an instant, and you're always prepared to think on your feet.

Hunter’s seen you at your best — smart, witty, skilled. But now he's seen you at your worst. Vulnerable. Desperate. Pathetic.

And he doesn't like it.

You understand why. You don't like it either.

As soon as you’re clean and dried, you get dressed. You don’t linger in the refresher, don’t even bother to look in the mirror. You just grab your things and leave. You have no desire to spend more time than necessary hiding away.

When you return to the cockpit, Hunter is still there, his eyes fixed on the streaks of light outside. He doesn't turn to look at you, doesn't acknowledge your presence, and the silence between you grows thicker and more oppressive.

"You want to talk," you say at last, breaking the tension. "So let's talk."

"Fine." Hunter stands and pushes past you, stalking through the cockpit toward the common room. You follow, your heart hammering in your chest. You're not sure what to expect, but whatever it is, you know it's not good.

As soon as the two of you are in the common room, Hunter rounds on you, his expression dark.

"You jeopardized the mission."

Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

"Excuse me?" Your anger flares, and you step closer to him, your chin jutting out. "Need I remind you whose mission this is?"

"And need I remind you that we're a team? We're supposed to work together."

You scoff, shaking your head. You can't believe him. After all that, this is what he's upset about?

"We are working together," you snap.

"Is that what you call it?” Hunter growls. "Because to me, it looked like you doing everything you can to prove you don't need my help."

"I don't!”

"Clearly." His words are heavy with sarcasm, and it makes your skin crawl.

You hate him, hate the way he makes you feel, hate the way he can read you so easily. He's always been able to see through you, and it makes you feel exposed, vulnerable. You can't stand it.

"Look, I don't need you telling me how to do my job."

"I wouldn't have to if you weren't so reckless," he shoots back.

"Reckless?" Your voice rises, your temper getting the better of you. "That's rich coming from you. I'm not the one who charged in there guns blazing and nearly got us both killed."

"But I'm not the one who was going to sell myself to some lowlife for a chunk of rock!”

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

"Really?" he snarls. He steps closer, looming over you, his eyes dark with anger. You refuse to be intimidated, but your stomach does an unpleasant flip.

"Yes, really," you snap, holding his gaze. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"You went off script. We agreed we’d approach the target together and you just went right up to him!” He’s shouting now, and his voice echoes in the small room. "You didn't tell me the plan. You didn't wait for my signal. You just acted without thinking. Just like always."

"I had it handled," you yell back. You jab at his chest plate with a finger, and unsurprisingly, he doesn't budge an inch. If anything, he leans closer.

"Handled? You call getting caught 'handled'?"

"If you hadn't barged in, I would have had him eating out of the palm of my hand," you insist.

"You can't be serious. That man was seconds away from having his way with you!” he shouts. “He was going to use you, and when he was done, he was going to kill you. And I wouldn't have been able to do a damn thing about it."

You scoff and roll your eyes. This is ridiculous.

"So that's what this is about? You're mad because I didn't let you play the hero?"

"Haar'chak, I'm mad because I'm the only one around here who seems to care if you live or die!"

You reel back as if struck. You're not sure if it's the sudden realization of what he said or the fact that he's shouting in your face, but whatever the case, it feels like a punch to the gut.

You open your mouth to retort, but no words come out. Hunter's eyes are dark, his brow furrowed, his mouth set in a tight line. He's breathing hard, his nostrils flaring. You've never seen him like this, so angry and out of control.

"You don't think. That's your problem. You act on impulse and don't think things through. It’s like you don’t care at all about your own safety."

"So what?" you finally manage.

"So what?" Hunter echoes, his voice incredulous. He steps back, his arms gesturing wildly. "So, what if you hadn't been able to seduce the target? What if he had seen through your little game and shot you? What if I hadn't been there to stop him?"

"Well, thank the Maker that you were, isn't that right?"

"This isn't funny!"

"I'm not laughing," you retort, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You're so--" He breaks off, and takes a deep breath. His hand covers his face, and he shakes his head. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and strained. "You act like it doesn't matter, like your life doesn't matter. But it does."

His words take the wind out of your sails. You've never heard him sound so... defeated. Like he's tired of fighting. Like he's given up. It's unnerving.

You're scrambling for something, anything to keep your anger burning. It's the only thing holding you together right now. If it fades, if you let yourself feel the shame and guilt and humiliation, you'll fall apart. And you can't let that happen.

"You don't understand," you mutter, turning away from him.

"You're right, I don't.” He grabs your shoulder, forcing you to face him. His eyes search yours, his brow furrowed. "I don't understand why you're so willing to throw yourself into danger like that. You deserve better than that."

"Better than what?"

"Better than this." He gestures around the ship. “Better than having to use your body as a weapon. Better than letting Cid take advantage of you."

"That's my choice," you snap, pushing his hand away, and it falls back to his side. "This is my life, Hunter. This is what I've had to do to survive. It's not pretty, but it's the only way I've found that works."

"There's a better way," he says, his voice firm.

"Not for me. Not when all I have is this." You gesture to yourself, to your body, and he flinches, his jaw clenching. "I have nothing. I'm nobody."

"You're not nothing," he insists, stepping closer to you. "And you're not just some weapon to be used and thrown away. You're important."

"I'm not."

"You are," he says, his voice low and rough.

"Why does it matter to you?"

"Because I—" He pauses, and his gaze softens, his eyes searching yours. "I care about you. I care about what happens to you."

The words echo in the small space between you, hanging in the air like a bomb ready to go off. Your heart races in your chest, and you take a step back.

"Hunter, I—"

"No, don't." He closes the gap between you, his hands reaching out for yours. "Just, please, just listen. I know I'm probably the last person who should be telling you this, but you need to hear it. You need to know that you're more than just a body to use. You're so much more. You're strong, and capable, and kriff, you're brave. Too brave. But that's not a bad thing. It's just part of who you are. And I..."

His hands are warm on yours, his voice a low rumble. Your stomach twists into knots, and your head spins. Hunter cares about you. He's said the words aloud, and you don't know how to process them.

No one has ever said that to you before. Not like this.

"I know what it's like to be used. To be seen as nothing more than a means to an end. I know what it's like to do things you're not proud of." He pauses, his eyes searching your face. "And I don't want that for you."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart aches. You can't believe what you're hearing.

“I’m sorry for yelling." Hunter says, his voice strained.

"It's fine," you mumble.

"It's not. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. But seeing you like that, with him..." His jaw clenches, and his fingers flex around yours. "I hate it. I hate seeing you like this, using yourself like this. You deserve better, and I'm not just saying that. It's true."

You're not sure how to respond. A part of you is still angry, still hurt, still defensive. But a larger part of you is moved by his words, by the concern in his voice. He means what he's saying, and that's enough to make the knot in your stomach loosen ever so slightly.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize."

"No, I should. You're right. I should have talked to you before I did anything. I should have trusted you."

"It's not that I don't trust you," he says, his hands sliding up your arms. "I do. I trust you with my life. But I care about you too much to watch you get hurt."

"Hunter, I—"

"You don't have to say anything. I know I've probably crossed a line, and I'm sorry. I just had to say it."

"Thank you," you murmur.

You feel him shift, and when you open your eyes, he's close. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against him. He rests his chin on top of your head, his grip tight. It feels good, being held like this, and a sense of peace washes over you. You're not used to feeling safe, but with Hunter, you do. It’s a bit terrifying that he’s come to mean this much to you.

His thumb strokes along your spine, and you lean further into his touch. It's intimate, more than you're used to, but it's nice. More than nice. You've never had anyone hold you like this, care about you like this, and it makes you feel warm all over.

"Say it again," you whisper.

"I'm sorry," Hunter repeats, his tone questioning. You pull back and meet his eyes, and the worry, the hope in his expression is enough to take your breath away.

"No, the other thing," you say.

Realization dawns on him, and a small smile plays across his lips. "I care about you."

This time, when the words are spoken, they don't hurt. They don't sting or burn. They settle over you like a warm blanket, like a comforting embrace.

You smile, and a small laugh escapes you. It's a silly, stupid sound, but you don't care.

"You care about me," you repeat, as if saying the words will make them more real.

"I do," Hunter says.

His hands cup your cheeks, and he tilts your head up, his gaze searching yours as his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, and then he's kissing you, his lips warm and gentle on yours. You close your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest as you melt against him. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and a soft moan escapes your lips.

Kissing Hunter is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It's soft and sweet, but there's a hint of hunger, of desperation, like he's been holding himself back. You can't help but smile, and his lips curl into a smirk against yours.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, his breath hot on your skin. You feel giddy, drunk on the kiss, and you can't keep the smile from your lips.

"Hunter..." you begin, but you're not sure what else to say.

"I meant it," he says, his voice a low rumble.

Your smile widens, and your hand reaches up to trace along his jaw. His stubble is rough under your fingers, and you can't help but admire the sharp lines of his face.

"I care about you, too,” you whisper.

He smiles, and his arm slides around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your heart is still racing, and you feel like you're floating, like your body is made of stardust and light.

Hunter's gaze is tender, full of affection, and it's almost too much to bear. He makes you feel like you're the only person in the galaxy, and it's a feeling you've never experienced before. It's overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

"I'm still mad at you," he whispers.

"I know," you say, smiling. "But I'm mad at you, too."

"Fair enough."

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours once more. The kiss is brief, but it sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but chase after him as he pulls away.

He lets out a muffled noise of surprise as you crash your lips onto his. You kiss him, hard, pouring everything you feel into the moment. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as he kisses you back. His mouth is hot and insistent, and you feel the heat of desire pool in your belly.

You've kissed plenty of people in your life, but never like this. Never with such abandon, such need. Never with such raw passion. You can't get enough of him. You press your body against his, desperate to be closer, and he responds in kind. 

It's like a dam has burst, the two of you crashing together in a tangle of lips and teeth and tongues. Hunter guides you back until you’re pushed against the wall, his body caging yours. His hands are everywhere, on your waist, your hips, your breasts. Your fingers dig into his back as your leg lifts to hook around his waist. He takes the hint and grabs it, then the other, lifting you up.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and his hands slide under your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin. He pins you against the wall with his body, and you can't help but moan at the contact. You're already aching for him, and the feeling of his codpiece pressing against your core isn't helping.

When his lips finally leave yours, you're gasping for air, your body trembling with need. Hunter's eyes are dark and wild, his lips swollen from the kisses. You've never seen him look so undone, and the thought that you did this, that you're the one responsible for the desire burning in his gaze, makes you dizzy with lust. 

He looks at you, his gaze raking over your body, and he swallows hard. His voice is low and husky when he speaks.

"I can't believe I almost lost you," he says, his breath warm against your skin. "If anything happened to you..."

"It didn’t," you whisper. You reach out and gently trace the outline of his tattoo. "I'm here. I'm safe."

"You scared the hell out of me.” His eyes meet yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. "Don't ever do that again."

You bite your lip, and a sly smile spreads across your face.

"What?" Hunter asks, his eyebrow quirking.

"It's just..." You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "You're kind of a hypocrite."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I'm not the only one who does reckless, stupid things." You tilt your head and smile at him.

His brow furrows, and then realization dawns on him. He chuckles, and a sheepish smile tugs at his lips.

"You may have a point," he admits, and you laugh.

You lean in, your nose brushing against his. His eyes flutter closed, and he leans into the touch, his lips brushing against yours. It's gentle and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body is pressed against yours, and you can't help but sigh softly.

"What a pair we make, " you murmur.

"That we do," he agrees. His eyes open, and he pulls back slightly. His gaze is intense, his pupils blown wide. His hands are still on your thighs, and you can feel his thumbs moving in small circles on your skin. It's a tiny gesture, but it makes your heart race, and a shiver runs through your body.

The tension between the two of you is almost palpable, and you can't stop staring at his lips, at the way they're slightly parted, like he's waiting for permission.

You don't hesitate.

You kiss him, hard. His lips are warm and soft against yours, and you feel him smile. You can't help but smile too, a laugh bubbling up in your throat.

The kiss grows deeper, and Hunter's tongue slips past your lips. His hands move from your thighs to your waist, pulling you closer. You're completely pinned against the wall, his body flush with yours, and your hips cant against his, desperate for some kind of friction.

He lets out a low groan, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasp, and his grip tightens, his fingers digging into your skin. He trails his lips down your jaw, and his teeth graze over your neck, his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin.

"Hunter," you gasp, your head falling back against the wall. He lets out a groan and grinds his hips against yours, his codpiece rubbing against your clit as his hands slip under your shirt.

The feeling is electric, and you can't help but buck against him, desperate for more. He responds in kind, his body rocking against yours, his mouth hot on your skin. Your fingers bury themselves in his hair, pulling him closer, and his lips trail up to your ear, his breath hot and heavy.

"Do you want me to stop?" he murmurs.

"Stars, no."

Hunter laughs, and his lips find yours once more. You can't help but moan, the kiss sending sparks through your body. His hands slide up your sides, his thumbs brushing over the curve of your breasts. You arch into his touch, and his fingers deftly unhook your bra.

He pulls away just enough to lift your shirt, and you let your bra fall off your shoulders, your hands reaching up to help him take it off. You're left completely bare from the waist up, and his gaze is hungry, his eyes roving over your exposed skin.

He doesn't give you a chance to feel self-conscious. His hands are on your breasts, kneading and squeezing, his thumbs rolling over your nipples. The sensation is incredible, and you gasp, your head falling back against the wall. His head ducks down, his tongue trailing over your skin. When his mouth closes around one of your nipples, you nearly lose it, a moan tearing from your throat.

Your fingers bury themselves in his hair, and you can't stop yourself from grinding against him, the pleasure building inside you. His teeth graze over your nipple, and his hands slide down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants.

"Please," you whimper, the word slipping past your lips before you can stop it.

He lets out a low, satisfied hum and kisses his way across your chest, his mouth hot on your skin. One hand cups the back of his neck, pulling him closer, while the other grabs his wrist, urging him lower.

Hunter doesn't disappoint. His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants and underwear, and then he's stroking you, his fingers sliding easily through your slick folds. You let out a choked moan, your hips bucking against his hand, and he smiles against your skin, his teeth grazing over your nipple.

“Never thought I'd hear you beg," he murmurs.

Your cheeks flush, but before you can respond, his thumb presses against your clit, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. His touch is electric, and your hips rock against his hand, desperate for more.

Hunter chuckles, his breath hot against your skin, and then he’s pulling away, his fingers slipping out of you.

You nearly whine, the loss of contact making you ache, but then he's dropping to his knees in front of you, and you can't think of anything else. His hands find the waistband of your pants and underwear, and he slowly, tantalizingly, drags them down your legs. You step out of them, and he tosses them aside, his gaze raking over your naked form.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his hands sliding up the backs of your legs.

He doesn't give you a chance to respond. He hikes a leg over his shoulder and presses a kiss to your inner thigh. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and a low, needy sound escapes your throat.

"Hunter..."

He doesn't need any more encouragement. He moves in, his tongue licking a hot, wet stripe over your folds. Your hips jerk, and he lets out an obscene groan, his hands sliding up to grip your ass. He pulls you closer, his tongue circling your clit before flicking over it.

"So good," he rasps against you, and the sound goes straight to your core.

You can't help but moan, the pleasure building inside you, his mouth hot and wet and insistent. Your hips roll against his face, and his fingers dig into your skin, his breath coming in ragged pants.

He devours you, his tongue delving inside you before returning to your clit. He alternates between teasing licks and hungry sucks, his pace relentless, his desire to make you come clear in his every movement.

The way his mouth moves over you, the way his tongue works you over, it's unlike anything you've ever experienced before. He's focused, his eyes closed, his lips and tongue working tirelessly. He's clearly enjoying himself, and it shows.

You've never had anyone eat you out with such enthusiasm. With such need.

His fingers spread you open, and his tongue plunges deeper, his nose rubbing against your clit. It's almost too much, and you can't hold back the moans spilling from your lips. His mouth is perfect, and the pressure is building, the pleasure mounting. You're so close, so kriffing close.

Then, his eyes open, his gaze locking onto yours.

And he doesn't look away.

He holds your gaze as his mouth works you over, as his tongue swirls and flicks and teases. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide, and there's a hunger in them that takes your breath away. Hunter's always been intense, but this is different. This is a whole new level, and it's enough to send you hurtling over the edge.

You come, hard. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you let out a cry, your orgasm ripping through you as you double over, your fingers gripping his hair for dear life. He doesn't stop, his tongue licking up every last drop of your release. Your hips buck against his face, and he groans, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body.

It's a long moment before you come down, and even then, you're trembling, your body flushed and spent. You can barely stand, your legs weak, but Hunter's arms are there, supporting you. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and you let out a shaky breath.

When you finally manage to open your eyes, Hunter's still kneeling in front of you, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Enjoy yourself?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Maker, yes," you say, laughing. You shake your head and run a hand through your hair, your mind reeling. “You’ve been holding out on me, Sergeant."

Hunter stands and takes your face in his hands, his gaze searching yours. There's a heat in his eyes, a desire that makes your breath catch in your throat. His thumb brushes over your lips, and he leans in, his mouth ghosting over yours.

“Want more?” he whispers.

"Please."

The word is barely out of your mouth before his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and hungry. He pushes you back, and you let him guide you, his mouth never leaving yours. He steers you until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bunk, and you stumble backwards, landing on the bed with a small yelp.

Hunter doesn't waste any time. His hands move to the latches of his chest plate, and he quickly removes it, letting it clatter to the floor. The sound of it hitting the ground echoes through the ship, and a jolt of anticipation runs through you.

You're really doing this.

You're really going to have sex with Hunter.

As he steps out of his boots, the realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and your stomach does a little flip.

You've been dancing around this, whatever this is, for weeks. Months, even. You've wanted him, wanted this, and now, you're finally going to have it.

It's exhilarating and terrifying, and you can't wait.

Your hands reach out for him, and you undo the belt at his waist. It falls to the floor, and he lets out a soft chuckle, his hands finding yours. He lifts them up, and places a gentle kiss on each of your knuckles, his gaze meeting yours.

The gesture is sweet, tender, and it takes your breath away. Your heart skips a beat, and you can't help but smile, a fluttering feeling filling your chest.

This man, this soldier, who's seen and done so much, and still manages to be kind and caring.

Who makes you feel safe.

Who makes you feel cared for.

You can't believe your luck.

"Hunter," you murmur, unable to look away from him.

He pauses, his eyes searching yours.

"What is it?"

"I..." You trail off, not sure how to express what you're feeling. It's all too much, and the words don't seem enough.

He lets go of your hands and cups your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

"It's okay," he says. “We don’t have to do anything you're not ready for."

You laugh, a small, breathless sound. "No, that's not it. I want this. I want you."

His eyes widen, and he swallows hard. For a moment, he doesn't move, doesn't speak. Then, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"Force, the things you do to me," he murmurs, his thumb running along your bottom lip.

You can't help but smile.

Then, his lips are on yours, and the rest of the world fades away.

It's not a gentle kiss. It's raw and desperate, a primal need driving the two of you. His hands are everywhere, and yours are, too. You can't get enough of him.

Your hands tug at the fastenings of his blacks, and he pulls away just long enough to shed them along with his briefs, leaving him naked before you.

Hunter’s skin is hot beneath your fingertips, his muscles taut and defined. You can't help but admire him, his broad shoulders and trim waist, the dark tattoos that cover one side of his body, the scars that mar his skin. He's a sight to behold, and a small sigh escapes your lips.

"See something you like?" he asks, a playful tone in his voice.

Your eyes dip lower, following the trail of hair down his stomach, and a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. His cock is already hard and straining, the tip glistening with precum. You bite your lip, and when you glance back up, you catch him watching you.

A blush rises to his cheeks, and he gives you a sheepish grin.

"Like I said, the things you do to me," he repeats.

You laugh, and reach up, pulling him in for another kiss. You let yourself fall back, and he follows, his body covering yours.

His skin is soft and warm, his muscles firm under your touch. You let your hands roam, sliding over his shoulders, his back, his ass, anywhere you can reach as he pins you underneath him.

He shudders under your touch, his hips rolling against yours, and a groan escapes his lips. The feeling of his cock sliding against your clit, even with him between your legs, is enough to send a shiver through your body. You can't help but arch up into him, and he lets out a soft grunt, his breath hot on your neck.

“Kriff, you're killing me," he murmurs.

You laugh, and nip at his neck. He gasps, his hips jerking against yours, and you can't help but revel in the feeling.

Hunter is usually so in control, so disciplined, but you can see that control slipping, his restraint crumbling. It's a powerful feeling, knowing that you're the one who's making him lose his mind, and a sense of pride washes over you.

You slide a hand between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and he lets out a choked moan, his body tensing above you. Your thumb teases the sensitive tip, spreading the precum around, and he drops his head to your shoulder, his breathing ragged as his eyes squeeze shut.

"Fuck, that feels good," he groans.

"Yeah?" you ask, giving him a squeeze.

"Yes," he breathes, his hips rocking into your touch.

"I bet you'd feel better inside me," you murmur.

"Fuck, I bet you're right."

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you, deep and hard, his tongue exploring yours. You stroke his cock, slowly, and he lets out a muffled moan, his hips thrusting against you.

His hands slide down your body, grabbing your thighs and pushing them apart. The movement is rough and sudden, and a small gasp escapes your lips as he holds you open. Your hand falls away from his cock, and he takes the opportunity to settle between your legs, his body pinning you against the bed.

He rests his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy, his eyes locked onto yours. The weight of his body, the heat of his skin, the tension between you is almost too much, and your heart hammers in your chest.

He reaches down, taking himself in his hand, and rubs the head of his cock against your clit. The sensation is incredible, and a choked moan falls from your lips.

He gives a small, teasing thrust, the tip just barely entering you, and a shudder runs through your body. You want him so badly, and he's barely giving you anything.

You let out a frustrated huff, and Hunter smirks.

"Ask nicely," he murmurs.

You swallow, the heat building between you, and your mind is reeling. You’re too far gone to worry about your pride, and if that's what he wants, then that's what you'll give him.

"Please, Hunter," you breathe, and he lets out a low groan.

Then, finally, he pushes inside you.

It's slow, agonizingly so. His tip pushes past the tight ring of muscle, and then he's stretching you, inch by glorious inch, the feeling of his cock filling you stealing the breath from your lungs. The way he’s holding you open, the angle he's at, it's all perfect, and it's all for you.

He doesn't stop until he's fully sheathed inside you, and even then, he waits, his cock pulsing against your walls, giving you a moment to adjust. The teasing look in his eye is gone, replaced by a heated desire. He watches you, his gaze roving over your body, drinking in every detail.

The feeling is almost overwhelming, being stretched so completely, and you let out a shaky breath.

"How does it feel?" he asks, his voice strained.

"Good, really good."

He smiles, and gives a small, experimental thrust. You both gasp, the pleasure of the movement making your toes curl. He does it again, and again, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back, and his eyes close, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

"Don't," he grunts. "I'm barely hanging on as it is."

"Don't what?"

“If you keep that up, I'm not going to last."

The words send a jolt through you, and a wicked idea crosses your mind. You rake your nails down his back, and he groans, his cock twitching inside you.

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, his grip firm. You can't help but laugh, a smirk tugging at your lips.

"That's not playing fair," he chides.

"What, you can't handle a little teasing?"

He laughs, and shakes his head, his eyes locked onto yours. Then, he starts moving, his hips rolling into you, his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt.

The rhythm he sets is steady, but deep. Each thrust is deliberate, calculated, and the way his cock fills you, the way he stretches and rubs against your walls, it's enough to make you forget everything but him.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

"Yes," you gasp.

"What else do you want?"

"I—"

You're not sure how to answer. You're not used to someone asking you what you want, what you like.

"Tell me," he says, and his fingers lace together with yours, pressing your hands against the bed.

The intimacy of the gesture sends a rush through your body, and your walls clench around his cock. He lets out a surprised noise, his eyes fluttering shut.

When he opens them again, his gaze is intense, a hunger burning in his eyes. He looks at you, really looks at you, and you feel a thrill run through your body.

You take a deep breath, and try to focus, to collect your thoughts.

It's not easy.

He's not making it easy.

You think back to all the times the two of you have been together, all the times you've teased each other, all the moments where the tension between the two of you has threatened to boil over.

There's a question you've always wanted to ask him, a fantasy you've had ever since you first met him.

And now, it seems like the right time to ask.

"I want...I want to know what it feels like to have you come inside me."

He goes still, his cock throbbing inside you, and a shiver runs through his body.

His eyes widen, and he stares at you, his mouth slightly agape. For a moment, neither of you say anything. You hold his gaze, and your cheeks flush, the confession hanging in the air.

Finally, he lets out a strangled groan, and his head drops to your shoulder.

"That's..." He trails off, his voice rough.

"Is that not—"

"No, that's..." He groans, and his hips buck against yours, his cock pulsing.

You let out a breathless laugh.

You never would have thought Hunter could be flustered. But here he is, the man who can stare death in the face without flinching, and the mere thought of coming inside you has him practically vibrating.

"I've never done that," he confesses, and his voice is barely a whisper.

The confession is surprising, but it's not entirely unexpected. Hunter's life hasn't exactly given him a lot of opportunities to indulge in pleasure.

"Do you want to?" you ask.

"Yes." He lets out a low growl and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "But only if you're okay with it."

"I'm more than okay with it," you say, smiling. "I want to feel it."

"Maker, you're going to kill me," he murmurs.

His voice is a low rumble, and a shudder runs through you. The desire in his words is undeniable, and the thought of him giving into it, letting go, makes you dizzy with lust.

He shifts, releasing your hands, and his own move down to your hips. He pulls out of you, and you can't help but let out a disappointed whine, but before you can protest, he flips you over, pressing your chest against the mattress as he guides your knees beneath you.

He moves behind you, his hands running up your thighs, over the curve of your ass, and a moan escapes your lips. Your cheek is pressed against the sheets, and the vulnerability of the position sends a shiver down your spine.

You feel his fingers part your folds, his thumb brushing over your clit. His other hand slides down your back, and then his cock is pushing back inside you, filling you completely. The position allows him to go deeper, and you feel him hit the furthest point inside you, a choked moan escaping your throat as a flood of heat washes over your body.

He leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, and his hands come up to rest on either side of your head. He's practically bent over you, his hips rolling against yours, and the feeling of his weight bearing down on you, the sensation of his skin warm against yours, it's enough to drive you crazy.

You can't believe this is happening, that the two of you are finally here, after all the teasing, all the flirting, all the stolen glances and secret smiles. You feel his lips on your neck, his breath hot and ragged, and a low moan slips past your lips.

You're not sure how long you can last like this, his cock buried inside you, his body pressed against yours, his hands pinning you in place. And judging by the way his hips are thrusting, his pace growing erratic, he's not going to last much longer either.

The thought sends a jolt through your body, and you push back against him, eager to meet his thrusts. He lets out a choked sound, his fingers digging into the sheets, and his breath is hot against your neck.

"Stars, that feels good," he pants, and his voice is strained. “I’m getting close."

The words send a rush through your body, and you can't help but clench around his cock. The feeling makes him groan, and his hands leave the bed, wrapping around your body. One grips your hip, his fingers digging into your skin, while the other finds your clit, circling the sensitive bud with his thumb.

"I'm going to make a mess of you," he murmurs, and his voice is low and rough, the promise in his words sending a shiver down your spine.

The image flashes through your mind, of Hunter's cum leaking out of you, staining the sheets, and a surge of heat washes over your body, making your toes curl.

"Do it," you breathe, and he groans and pinches your clit, making you gasp.

"I will," he says, his voice a low rumble, and you feel his mouth trail up the back of your neck. His lips find your ear, and his breath is hot against your skin as he speaks. “I want to feel you come, and then I'm going to fill you up. Do you want that, cyar’ika?"

The words are practically a growl, and the raw need in his voice sends a shiver through your body. You can't take much more. Between his words and his cock, you're about to lose it, and his thrusts are becoming desperate, his movements frantic.

“Please,” you whimper, and that's all he needs to hear.

His thumb presses hard against your clit, and his hips snap forward, his cock burying itself inside you. The pleasure is intense, and a cry falls from your lips, your eyes squeezing shut as the orgasm tears through you.

He doesn't stop. He keeps thrusting, his rhythm fast and uneven, his breath coming in ragged gasps as your walls flutter around him. You're overwhelmed, your senses overloaded, and you can't help but buck against him, riding the waves of pleasure coursing through you.

"Fuck, that's it," he moans, and his fingers tighten on your hip.

His pace is punishing, and the pressure builds, his cock slamming into you with each thrust. He's lost himself in you, and you love it, the knowledge that you're the one bringing him this pleasure.

You feel his cock twitch inside you, and he lets out a broken moan, his hips stuttering. And then, he's coming, burying himself as deep inside you as he can get as his cock pulses. The feeling of his cum spilling inside you, the wet, warm heat of it, sends a shockwave through your body, and another wave of pleasure washes over you.

It's the most intimate, the most erotic thing you've ever felt.

Hunter shudders against you, his body shaking as he gasps, his breath coming in short, harsh bursts. His hips jerk, and his grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you still as he empties himself inside you.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, neither of you speaking. The only sound is the ragged breathing coming from both of you. It takes a few minutes for the haze of pleasure to clear, and when it does, he slowly pulls out of you.

He collapses on the bed beside you, and you roll onto your back, looking up at the bottom of the bunk above you.

You're completely spent, the adrenaline and pleasure leaving your body. You glance out of the corner of your eye and smirk.

Hunter is staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his eyes wide.

"You alright, Sergeant?" you tease.

He lets out a huff and turns to look at you, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Give me a minute," he says, and lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

He's beautiful like this, relaxed and carefree, his hair a mess, his face flushed. It's a far cry from his usual serious demeanor, and the sight sends a wave of affection through you. You want to reach out and touch him, but you're not sure if that’s what he wants. You’ve never really done this, never had the opportunity to have someone stay afterwards.

You're not sure what the protocol is, or if there even is a protocol. Do you cuddle? Do you make small talk? What if he's expecting you to leave?

“C’mere.”

Hunter pulls you against him, his arm wrapping around you, and your worries fade away. You snuggle closer, resting your head on his chest and throwing your leg over his. His body is warm, and his heartbeat is strong and steady, a comforting rhythm against your ear.

Your eyes flutter closed, and for a long moment, the two of you simply lay there, content to enjoy each other's company. His hand trails lazily over your arm, and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.

A small, satisfied sigh escapes your lips.

You didn’t expect this to happen, but stars, are you glad it did.

The thought crosses your mind that maybe you should have some regrets, maybe you should have second thoughts. But you can't find it in yourself to care. There is a question on your mind, though, and it’s one you can’t help but ask.

"What does cyar’ika mean?" you ask, your hand tracing the outline of his tattoo.

Hunter tenses, his body going rigid beneath you. You immediately regret asking, and you start to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place.

“Did I say that?” he asks, his voice quiet.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

He's silent, his fingers absently tracing the outline of your shoulder. You're afraid he's not going to answer, but then he sighs. “It means sweetheart. Darling. Something like that."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Oh," you manage, and your cheeks flush.

"Sorry, it's...it just slipped out. I wasn't thinking." He shifts, pulling back just enough to look at you, and he looks almost nervous. “You don’t mind, do you?”

"Mind?” You blink, and shake your head. A smile tugs at your lips, and you let out a small, surprised laugh. "No, I don't mind."

His brow furrows, and he stares at you, his eyes searching yours.

“It's just...no one ever called me anything like that before,” you say, a little embarrassed.

A surprised expression crosses his face, and then his expression softens. He cups your face in his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

"They should have,” he murmurs.

It's such a simple, earnest statement, and the emotion in his voice makes your chest tighten. You look away, suddenly overwhelmed, and a shaky laugh slips past your lips.

“I’m nothing special, Hunter. Not really."

He lets out a small scoff, and the hand on your cheek guides your face back to his, his gaze locking onto yours.

“You are to me."

There's no hesitation in his voice, no uncertainty. The words are spoken with a quiet conviction, and the weight of them settles around you, a warmth blooming in your chest and flushing your cheeks. Your heart flutters, and you swallow, suddenly at a loss for words.

"You're cute when you're flustered," he murmurs, his tone teasing. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to be shy."

"Shut up," you grumble, and his smile widens.

"No, I mean it. I love seeing this side of you." He pulls you in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. When he pulls away, his eyes are warm, his gaze filled with an affection that takes your breath away.

Your heart swells, and you can't help but smile.

It's too soon for love. You know that. But the way he looks at you, the way he touches you, it makes you feel things you've never felt before. It makes you feel like it might be possible, one day.

And that's enough.

You rest your head on his chest again, your hand reaching up to run through his hair, and he lets out a sigh, relaxing against you.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," you mumble, unable to stop the words from coming out.

"That's true." His voice is quiet, his touch gentle, and he nudges you, his chin pressing into the top of your head. "But I'd like to learn. If you'll let me."

You're not used to being asked for anything, much less given a choice. Hunter's words, and the implication behind them, leave you speechless. You stare up at him, not quite sure what to say, and his expression falters, uncertainty crossing his face.

You swallow, and nod.

A grin spreads across his face, and he looks like he's trying to suppress it, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

It's a rare sight, a genuine, unguarded smile from him, and you can't help but chuckle.

The sound is enough to break him. His expression softens, and a low, rumbling laugh escapes his chest, the sound filling the room. You lean in, and kiss him, slow and tender. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and his laughter fades, replaced by a contented sigh.

You've never felt more comfortable, more safe.

Or more at home.

As the two of you lay there, tangled together, you realize something.

You're not sure how it happened, or when, but somewhere along the way, Hunter became a part of your life. And now, it seems impossible to imagine a life without him.

And for the first time in a long while, the thought of the future doesn't fill you with dread.

It fills you with hope.

You fall asleep like that, wrapped in his arms, your bodies pressed together.

You sleep better than you have in a long time.

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[iamnotoriginalphil]

Friends with Benefits (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Barbra finds out that you and Melissa have been getting up to some after hours activities

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: mentions of smut

AN: Just a little thing for @maybe-a-humanbean after 3x08. A nice 'what if' if you will.

You lent over to Melissa, standing in the dimly lit room full of cpr dummies. Pitching your voice low so it would not carry to the other people around you, you whispered in her ear.

“How about you practice on me, give me some mouth to mouth attention.”

She turned her eyes on you, lips pressed together to keep in a grin, eyes sparkling at you with unspoken mirth.

“Stop it,” she whispered back.

“I can certainly think of something that would block my airways,” you said.

“You’re pushing it,” she warned you.

“You’re worth the choking hazard,” you murmured.

She hit your shoulder but you could see the flush on her cheeks in the dim light, practically glowing at your words. You grinned at her, loving when you could fluster her. She turned away from you, doing her best to listen to the fire chief. Ignoring him, you brushed your fingertips along the back of her hand, before moving over to Jacob’s workstation.

“You’re not working with Melissa?” he asked.

“I figure Barbra needs some Mel time,” you replied with a small shrug, “I’ve taken up more than my fair share.”

“You have been spending a lot of time together,” the woman in question said, leaning around Melissa to speak to you.

“Too much, some might say,” Jacob muttered under his breath.

You shot him a look, trying to tell him to shut up. His eyes were averted and you were sure he hadn’t gotten the message.

“You went out for drinks on Friday night, you went to that cute little farmers market on Sunday, and didn’t you say you were going to try out that new restaurant down town together?” Barbra asked Melissa.

“Why bother when you can just finish my box of cereal in the morning?” Jacob said.

“I told you I was going to replace that,” you snapped at him, not needing to start that argument again.

“You ate breakfast with Melissa and Jacob this morning?” she asked you before Melissa could answer any of her previous questions.

“She was certainly eating something this morning,” Jacob muttered. Clearly he was still sulking.

“No need to be crass,” you admonished.

“Are you seeing each other?” Barb asked, still not having had any of her questions answered.

“No,” you said at the same time as she said, “of course not.”

“What do you mean of course not?” you asked her, “it’s not a crazy question to ask given the context.”

She scoffed.

“You don’t want to be tied down to an old woman like me,” she said.

“What?” Your voice was sharp.

“So you’re not seeing one another?” Barb asked.

“They’re hooking up,” Jacob said.

The gasp from Janine was not appreciated, both of you shooting her a look. She looked hurt, as if the two of you had betrayed her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Barb asked, also sounding hurt.

“Because there’s nothing to tell,” Mel said, exasperated with the whole thing.

You sighed, staring down at the dummy on the table. The thought that Mel found the possibility of the two of you dating so unbelievable was surprisingly hurtful. And not in the way you were expecting. She thought she was the part of the equation letting the side down, not that she didn’t want you. It was her own insecurities, not about what she wanted.

The conversation stalled as Captain Robinson tried to continue with the course but you could feel the heat from your right. Janine had come and gone and you were doing your best to compress the chest beneath your hands. Jacob was purposefully avoiding making eye contact with Robinson’s helper and Mel was avoiding making eye contact with you.

“Are you seriously mad?” Mel asked Barbra the moment there was a break in proceedings to do so.

“Why would I be mad? It’s not as if my friends have been keep their courtship a secret from me,” Barb snapped.

“Courtship?” you asked.

“This ain’t Bridgerton. It’s casual,” Mel protested.

“Casual what? It’s not casual friends because she and I are casual friends and we don’t share breakfast,” she said.

“It’s not casual anything. It’s just sex. Friends with benefits,” Mel said.

You wanted to argue with that but you couldn’t. That was the arrangement. Nothing serious, just sex between two friends who found the other hot. Because she wasn’t interested in more.

Maybe.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Barb asked, finally turning on you.

“We didn’t think you’d understand,” you said, “I mean, come on, Barb, you’re quite… traditional. And this is… not.”

“I can understand new fangled dating. You talked to me about Gary,” she said, rounding back on Mel.

“Yes, because that was a real relationship you would approve of,” she replied.

“And we’re not dating,” you supplied.

You were beyond caring about the other people in the course. Janine was popping in and out with the kind of frantic energy you hadn’t missed around Abbott. Jacob was dealing with his own hookup drama. You just wanted to take Mel off somewhere and drown in her to forget the argument.

“Sorry for assuming you wouldn’t understand,” Mel said, but you could hear an undercurrent of sarcasm in her voice.

“Thank you.” You weren’t sure Barb had completely grasped the sarcasm.

The going on between Janine, Jacob, and the handsome EM came to the forefront of the moment. You ignored that, your fingertips gently tapping against the pulse point in Mel’s wrist. Familiar green eyes turned to you, eyebrow quirking in question. You nodded to a point in the room, slightly further away from the others.

“What?” she asked with an undertone of exasperation. You couldn’t tell if it was aimed at you or one of the others.

“Do you really think I think you’re too old for me?” you asked. It had really been playing on your mind since she’d said it.

“Hon, it’s okay. I know where we stand. You’re so much younger than me,” she said, giving you one of those looks that said you were being an idiot.

“So? Mel, you’re gorgeous, you’re fucking sexy, and you’re a wonderful person. I would be lucky to be in a relationship with you, younger or not,” you replied, “you’re not too old for someone like me. You’re wonderful just the way you are.”

“Hon,” she breathed but you could see the flush on her cheek and the smoulder in her eye.

You weren’t often given over to saying sentimental things to her. Nothing beyond what would be considered platonic, if verging into grossly flirtatious. You tucked some of her hair behind her ear, lingering on her jaw for a moment.

“Just thought you should know,” you said, keeping your voice quiet so it would remain between the two of you.

You left her to her thoughts, rejoining your friends. Barb looked over at you, and you sighed.

“I really am sorry we didn’t tell you. Your opinion matters to me so much I just didn’t want you to think badly about me,” you said.

“You’re an adult, you can make your own life choices. If you’re happy, then girl, I’m not going to tell you off like you’re one of my students. As long as you are happy,” she said.

“I am for now,” you replied, not willing to go into a lot of the minutiae of the situation.

“Then I’m happy for you,” she said.

Her arm curled around your shoulders in the comforting way you’d grown accustomed to. In your peripheral vision, you saw Mel sidle back up to the group on Barb’s other side. Her fiery hair shone in the warm light and you felt your breath catch.

“Are you coming to get a drink with us?” Barb asked you.

“Really?” you asked.

“Sure, hon. Wouldn’t be the same without you,” Mel said, glancing over at you.

You grinned at her, leaning into Barb’s embrace more. Yeah, you were happy enough with what you had, because what you had was pretty damn great.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part I

Word count: 3600+

Warnings: mentions of blood, body remains; reader is from Hewn city (I believe that says enough about what to expect here)

Note: I'm posting this just because I'm curious if there would be anyone interested in this story. There won't be next chapter any time soon, not until the rest of Heal me is up. Hopefully I won't need to pretend it's oneshot😮‍💨

Declaration: I hate dancing and have zero knowledge about it, so excuse the lack of description or any vagueness in that part. I tried to look things up, I swear, but the unstoppable rolling of my eyes made it hard to focus🤷

Dividers by amazing @tsunami-of-tears

Part II

A male slowly stepped out of the darkness, the pale face lifted up. His amber eyes found yours, gazing straight into them with hate, all-consuming fire blazing in his irises. His unbounded long red hair flew around him, dancing in the air as flames. He was scary but handsome. Then his mouth twisted into a sadistic grin came in focus and you cried out in fear. His white teeth were covered in blood, streams of it running down his chin, dripping on the front of his shirt.

Blood was dripping even from his long fingers with sharp nails of predator. Down at his feet lay remains of a body, pile of flesh and broken bones, burned so badly that nobody could recognize the person whom it belonged to.

His grin widened and he suddenly dashed forward towards you, his hand reaching for your throat.

You jolted up in dimly lit carriage, cold sweat covering your body. Thankfully, you were all alone and nobody saw you or heard you. This nightmare haunted you almost every time you closed your eyes ever since you were told that you would marry a new High Lord of Autumn Court.

You were born and raised in Hewn city, the cruellest place known to fae world where it was lucky to be born as a male. Unfortunately, you were a female which meant that you were a toy in hands of your father who was just as brutal as that whole place.

You'd spent most of your life in your room without windows, allowed to come out only when you were called or needed. You'd never seen a daylight until this day. Growing up you were often punished whether you did something wrong or not, because you were just a weak female, a possession that could be sold if the offer was high enough. That's how you ended up betrothed to the Heir of Autumn Court on the first place.

You didn't know why you were chosen. You had never spoken with him nor met him in person. You saw him only from afar when he came to Hewn city to negotiate with Keir and later at a ball organized by your High Lord where he danced with one of the High Lady's sisters. It was quite an interesting show and he seemed to be smitten by her.

You watched that all from your dark alcove where you were exposed for the chosen ones but otherwise hidden from prying eyes of others. You weren't allowed to participate directly. You weren't even allowed to talk with other guests. The ball was a market and you were the goods.

However, the horrific rumours about the Heir got to your ears nevertheless. You heard all stories about his cruelty and punishments that he loved to deliver, and later even the stories about how he killed his father and became a High Lord. None of them was a good one, but he wasn't judged here. In Hewn city, he was admired for his rigour. Every male wanted to be like him, every female either feared she would catch his eye or longed for that.

You, for sure, didn't belong to the second group. You didn't want to get married at all. All you dreamt about, was freedom, the possibility to go and do whatever you wanted, but that was out of question for you. You were just a puppet that danced only when a male pulled the strings. Now you were a property of your father who had planned to sell you for the highest offer from the day you were born, and soon enough you would became a property of your husband. You were nothing, you didn't count.

You were aware of the offers that piled on your father's desk. They started coming when you turned 15, but your father had waited. You didn't know what he did or who he spoke to, when suddenly a marriage proposal came from Autumn Court soon after your 18th birthdays. He didn't hesitate this time and immediately accepted. He couldn't get any higher offer than from the future High Lord himself, could he.

If you thought your life was a torture before, after that it became a hell. Whole year you spent learning all kinds of manners that wife of male with such high position had to know. They taught you what your place in the court and in the private would be, what you had to do to keep it, they beat it into you, breaking you again and again until there were no errors and you were perfectly submissive.

You also had to become an outstanding dancer because your future husband seemed to have a special interest in dance. Even now your toes were still bleeding into your shoes as your last lesson ended right before the departure.

In every aspect you had to be perfect and worthy of High Lord of Autumn. Lady of Autumn Court, your future husband's mother, was given to you as a model of such a perfect wife. Quiet, obedient, representative, beautiful.

Perfect doll to be ruined by her husband when no one was looking.

You feared the future but you had no choice.

You slightly moved the curtain to look out and see the bits of the country behind the window. Because of the nap you lost track of time. Your heart squeezed in dread when you found out you were already in a forest full of red and yellow and golden brown leaves. You had never seen an autumn foliage with your own eyes, but even you with your limited knowledge knew that these were colours of Autumn. You were getting closer to your final ordeal.

It took another hour or two and carriage stopped. Before you could reach for the doorknob, the door flew open and your father's always angry face came to view.

"Get out now," he ordered. He seemed to be in quite a good mood today.

You immediately moved closer to the door and get off. Your heels clicked on the sandstone in the courtyard of a beautiful castle, but you had no time to look around as father shoved you to the entrance. Bowing your head, you submitted.

At the gate you were welcomed by High Lord's advisor, a male with rather a cool demeanour, and some maids who took you to the chamber where you were supposed to get ready and wait until the ceremony began. You didn't bother to even try to lift your gaze, you were too scared to look at people directly. Whenever you dared to look at someone, most of them had no face in your eyes, only an empty mask. You distinguished people mainly by their voices.

You felt your father staring after you coldly as you silently followed the maids, his gaze felt like a sharp knife poking into your back. You were scared he would follow you because you were his priced ticket to wealth now, but soon he turned around and walked away with the advisor in the opposite direction.

Maids were quiet and quick as they helped you to bath and dress. They skilfully braided your long hair into a complicated hairstyle, attached the veil to it, letting it fall down and cover your face. When they were done, with a slight bow they left.

You let out a breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding the entire time they were hopping around you. Nobody bothered to inform you how much time you had left, but it didn't matter anyway. You couldn't run away from your fate.

You were sitting at the vanity table where they left you, looking at the ground as you were taught, your mind empty. You couldn't even mourn the life that you never had and never would have. They successfully turned you into a puppet, a blank canvas ready for your husband to paint on.

Soft knock sounded on the doors and a female's voice called that it's time. You slowly stood up with bowed head and stepped out from the chamber. Small maid led you through corridors and halls to a chapel.

You'd like to look around, wanting to see at least something of your wedding day worth of memorising it, but your father was already waiting for you, angrily tapping his foot.

"Good for nothing as usual," he grunted. "How long do you think we have to wait for you?"

"I'm sorry, father," you said in a small voice.

"Speak properly! You are like your mother, useless. Thankfully from now on, you will be your husband's burden."

He offered you an arm and you immediately took it not wanting to make him any more angry. Together you got ready at the threshold and as music started to play you stepped inside.

The chapel seemed to be quite spacious, full of warm light and crowded with guests. As you walked to the altar you caught glimpses of gold, yellow and white decorations. Your father halted, a pair of shiny black boots stepped closer. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that your father was smiling kindly. You were shocked. It was the first time you saw such expression on his cruel face.

Your father said something to that male and he answered. Your heart was beating so fast and loudly that you hardly heard the music. Father took your hand and offered it to the male who surprisingly gently accepted it. Fingers that wrapped around yours were pale and long just as in that nightmare, but instead of icy cold you felt warmth seeping into your skin. Your father stepped away, leaving you with this male. The transaction was apparently successful.

"Can we?"

A deep voice spoke lowly, snapping you out of the new kind of darkness that began to pull you into its void. You inhaled sharply. It wasn't that deadly voice that haunted you in sleep but a quite pleasant, rich one that felt like a warm blanket, a liquid honey flowing into your ears that were used to only harsh words. Rich aroma of spicy cinnamon and apples roasted on fire filled your nose.

You nodded, still not daring to look up. He led you to the altar where a priestess was waiting for you. As you stood before her, he turned to you one more time. His fingers touched the edge of the veil, lifting it up. You kept your eyes down as you were taught.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

Carefully, inch by inch you raised your eyes, taking in first his trousers in cream colour, then his elegant tailored moss jacket with gold details that hugged his chest perfectly. He didn't look like a mass of muscles as the general of Night Court did even though before he had the same rank. Your soon-to-be husband seemed to be rather lean, but definitely a warrior with muscles on right places. And so tall, impossibly tall, that you hardly reached up to his shoulders.

It felt like forever until your gaze finally reached his face. Like in the nightmares it was pale with bright amber eyes and high cheekbones, his nose was straight and lips full. He wasn't smiling, yet corners of his mouth seemed to be twisted in a permanent smirk. In golden rays of sun penetrating through a round window behind the altar, his red hair had a warm shade, and looked so silky that you had to wonder how it would feel to touch them. Now cut much shorter than the last time you saw him, he just casually combed them back, a few unruly strands falling on his forehead.

His eyes roamed over your face, brows lightly furrowed, then one corner of his lips lifted in a half smile. He was handsome, attractive, there was no doubt about it. You expected him to have the cool, cruel aura you noticed before and he didn't disappoint, but as you were watching him for a while, in his eyes there was something you'd never seen before. Perhaps it was kindness, but what did you know. It was just a foreign word to you, something you never experienced.

It was confusing.

He didn't say if he liked what he saw, his expression gave nothing away. He just turned to priestess, signalling her with a nod of the head to begin the ceremony. You allowed your eyes to linger and watch his profile a little longer before your gaze again slid down to the floor. Hardly perceiving priestess's words, you returned to that quiet place in your mind where you felt safe from the world.

When the ceremony was over, Eris leaned down, gazing at you. This was the part when the groom should kiss the bride. You stayed still, expecting him to move, but he was just waiting. You looked up with silent question in eyes. As soon as your full attention was on him, he moved forward and his lips sealed over yours in a tender kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, breath caught in your throat. You expected anything from him except of this. He didn't close his eyes either, closely watching your reaction.

Eris tasted like honey and some alcohol. It was a strange combination, but not unpleasant. His lips slightly moved against yours, testing the waters and then it was over.

As if nothing had happened he straightened up and turned to the crowd, offering you an arm. You exhaled shakily, internally shouting at your body to move. You couldn't keep him waiting. Your fingers gripped on his sleeve. Still weak in your knees you could only wish that you wouldn't fall down.

His other hand went up to yours on his arm, adjusting it. Holding it firmly he tugged you closer and led you to the ballroom where the party would take a place.

Why did he behave like this? Did he genuinely care? Or did he notice your state and wanted to just prevent an embarrassing incident? He was supposed to be cruel. Everyone said that about him. Was it just some kind of masquerade and later he would make you pay for your mistakes? You were so confused and nervous.

The celebration program was simple. The ceremony was to be followed by a banquet and finally a party. When you came into the impressive ballroom decorated in the same colours as the chapel, the tables were already bending under the amount of deliciously looking food.

Eris led you to the table in the centre, a bit higher than the rest. He held a chair for you and then took a seat on your right. The other chairs were gradually filled as the guests were coming. Your father was seated at the table on your left, giving you a cold stare. Shiver ran down your spine and your heart started to beat faster. You knew that face. Whatever you had done he was very displeased right now.

Your husband inconspicuously leaned closer.

"Is everything alright?" he asked lowly, eyeing still coming guests. Did he hear your heartbeat even over this noise?

"Of course, my lord," you blushed, focusing on your hands folded on your skirt under the table.

Eris's eyes narrowed on you and then his gaze moved behind you to your father. He immediately stopped frowning at you and instead he conjured a pleasant smile at his new son-in-law. Eris made a small displeased noise and looked away.

When everyone took their seats Eris stood up to give a short speech and a toast. You took a goblet with wine but didn't drink. Could not. You weren't allowed to drink alcohol.

After your husband a dark haired male stood up to toast to newly wed couple. As he spoke you recognized the voice of your High Lord.

Nervously you swallowed.

It was unexpected, but not incomprehensible. Of course he was here. A member of his Court married his ally. This wedding was an important political event. There were certainly also other allied High Lords between the guests. The most powerful beings of this country had eyes on you. And your husband? He was one of them. Not an ordinary High Fae or some aristocrat. A High Lord.

Sudden realisation hit you hard and you felt a growing nausea, heart throbbing in your throat.

When everyone was done toasting, silent servants appeared seemingly from nowhere and started to serve the food to the plates. Not remembering when you had eaten for the last time was your last concern. You were too nervous and frightened to even think about the food right now.

Eris seemed to notice that you were just poking the vegetables with a fork around the plate, pretending you were eating as everyone around.

"Isn't the meal to your taste?" he asked with raised brows quietly.

Under the table you clenched fingers into the skirt of your dress. This male could turn you into a pile of ash if he wanted.

"Everything is delicious, my lord," swallowing hard you answered in a small shaky voice.

He just huffed and after a while returned to his plate and the conversation he had before. You bit on your lower lip. Did you offend him? Would he punish you later? You were on the verge of crying. From the other side of the table you could feel your father's angry gaze. Breathing raggedly you willed the tears back and put down the fork. Your trembling hand reached for a glass of water. Focussing on not spilling it's content, you brought it to your red painted lips and took a sip. You needed to pull yourself together, to overcome it. The show wasn't over yet.

By the time the clattering of cutlery has died down, you managed to calm down a bit. Music that played whole the time, got louder and some of the guests moved to the parquet.

Eris turned to you once again, his eyes lingering on your face. He seemed to think about something. For a brief moment his lips pursed into a thin line.

"We have to dance the first dance. It's a tradition," he spoke coldly.

"Yes, my lord."

You already knew that and you were more than ready even though your healing toes still hurt. This wouldn't be the first time you had to suppress the pain and pretend everything was okay. You could do this.

Despite the too high expectations of your teachers and father, you loved dance. It was the only quite funny activity you were ever allowed to do.

High Lord helped you to stand up and led you to the centre of the parquet. The guests created a circle around you.

Eris's warm hand heavily landed on your waist, holding you firmly, his fingers leaving marks on your skin through the corset. The sudden roughness surprised you and you slightly winced. Thankfully nobody seemed to notice it, not even your husband. Taking your other hand into his, you two took a position and started to move at the exactly same time to the rhythm of the song in a small circles. Eyes pinned to his strong chest right in front of you, you performed your best.

You moved gracefully as you were taught, small sparks in your veins slowly becoming a fire, consuming you. After the first rather stiff steps, your body relaxed and you blended in with the melody, becoming the music. The long skirt of your dress was sweeping the floor with every your step, looking like a flowing mountain stream. You loved that feeling. Eris spun you and you made a perfect pirouette so fast that you whirled two times. Someone in the watching crowd gasped in amazement, several others applauded.

If you dared to look up, you would see the fire in your husband's eyes and a wide smile. He was enjoying this, too, more than he was willing to admit.

The two of you started dancing in bigger and bigger circles, your every move faster than the last one. The crowd around had turned into a blurry smudge, but none of you minded. Eris decided to test you by changing the steps and adding figures, and you responded to every change with ease, without a mistake.

As the song was coming to its end, your husband decided to end the dance with a pretty deep dip. Your back arched under his fingers and suddenly you came face to face with him, your noses almost touching. Your eyes widened in surprise.

Two blazing amber eyes were piercing you with genuine interest, wolfish grin on his lips. His usual merciless expression was replaced by something wild, beautiful and kind of dangerous. He was mesmerising. You were definitely playing with a fire when you reached up, tips of your fingers lightly touching his jaw. Eris blinked and it was gone.

He straightened up and you followed, once again scared that you possibly made a fatal error when you touched his face.

Now all the guests were applauding. Looking around his cold gaze jumped from face to face. He didn't say anything as he bowed to you, kissing the back of your hand and then escorted you back to the table. Both of you were still heaving as you took your seats. He grabbed your glass of water and handed it to you. You thanked him to which he just responded with a nod. Then he took his empty goblet and held it out for the servant to fill it with wine. He drummed with fingers as he waited. As soon as the servant stepped back, he emptied the goblet again.

The musicians started to play another song and parquet filled with dancing pairs. When it seemed that nobody paid you attention any longer, without even looking in your direction Eris reached out under tha table, his fingers lightly brushing your arm from elbow down to your wrist. Finding your hand rested on your lap, he clasped it in his much bigger one and held it for the rest of the evening.

[kalinysu]

Hi there! Can I request Muzan x fem! slayer! Reader? :)

Slayer! reader going into an abandon house right after some villagers told her that things happen at night inside the abandon house and when she turns up, she meets Muzan again after encountering him alongside with Tanjiro from the night market. Muzan confessing his love and begging and telling the reader to stay beside him and become his and become a demon. (slight Yandere! Muzan maybe??)

Thanks!!! :)))

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄. — Muzan x F!Slayer

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Yandere behavior, murder, blood, kidnapping.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Still taking requests! I’ve always got too much free time, and i’m also working on a surprised fluff story on the side.

You were a strong hashira. Not the strongest, but definitely no where near the weakest. You were also the only hashira to ever meet face to face with Muzan Kibutsuji. Having ran into him in Asakusa after meeting a new demon slayer, Tanjiro Kamado. You didn’t fight him, as there were far too many people in the area, and it’d be risking thousands of lives. So the two of you had no choice but to let him go on. Today, you were out on a mission you had received from Ubuyashiki.

There were some strange things going on in an abandoned house on the far part of a village, along with people frequently going missing. You arrived late at night, which was perfect. There was nobody outside, and if it was a low rank demon, you could kill it easily without anyone seeing or being disturbed. Though, when you walked into the abandoned house, you were greeted with the unpleasant smell of blood. And the first thing you saw was a tall figure right in front of you, his crimson red eyes glaring down at you.

Your hand was quick to unsheathe your sword, before it was flung far away. Now you recognized him, and he had already recognized you. “We meet again, darling.” His voice was deep, and filled with malice. Your eyes were wide, and you were frozen in place for a moment, moving quickly to run and grab your sword before you felt his cold hands grabbing you. “Come on, you know, i’ve missed you. I knew I recognized that beautiful face of yours.” He said, his arm around your waist, holding you tightly against him, his other hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

“Let go of me.” You said sharply, your body tensed up as you tried to move away from him. Your hand pressed against his chest as you groaned. “What kind of man would I be if I did that? You are much too beautiful for me to let go of, your rare.” He said with a dark chuckle. “Ive loved you since the first moment I laid eyes on you, despite you being a slayer and all. But that’s an easy fix.” He said, gripping your chin tighter, causing you to try harder to get away from him. “Get off of me! I don’t give a damn if you love me or not, I hate you and I always will!! I have a boyfriend already anyways, you could never compare to him.” You shouted at him.

“Do you now?” He said with a chuckled, allowing your line of sight to trail behind him. The body of your boyfriend was on the ground, his limbs torn apart and blood practically everywhere. Your eyes widened, feeling a terrible sense of dread. Your breathing sped up, your heart pounding. “You—monster!!“ You screamed at him, tears forming in your eyes as your attempts grew more aggressive. “Your far too noisy.” He said, before suddenly your vision went black.

As your vision fades to black, you find yourself overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness and despair. When you regain consciousness, you realize you're in a dimly lit room, restrained by chains that bind your wrists and ankles. Muzan Kibutsuji stands before you, a sadistic smile on his face, relishing in your suffering."You thought you could escape me, my darling," he taunts, his voice dripping with venom. "But you're mine now, forever."

Fear courses through your veins, but you muster your strength and defiance despite the dire situation. "I'll never be yours, Muzan! I'll fight you until my last breath!" His smile widens, amused by your futile resistance. "Oh, how I adore your spirit. But don't worry, my dear, I have plans for you. You'll come to love me, just as I love you." Your mind races, desperately searching for a way to escape or find a weakness in Muzan's hold. You remember the stories of his immortality and his insurmountable strength, but you also recall the determination of your fellow demon slayers and the bond you shared with them.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you lock eyes with Muzan, determination burning within you. "You may have me trapped for now, but my comrades will find me. They will defeat you and put an end to your reign of terror." Muzan chuckles darkly, amused by your defiance. "Ah, yes, your fellow demon slayers. How quaint. But they won't find you in time. And even if they do, they'll fall before me, just like the countless others who've dared to oppose me." With renewed determination, you refuse to let despair consume you. You know the strength and tenacity of the demon slayers, their unwavering resolve to protect humanity. You also hold onto the memory of your fallen boyfriend, using his sacrifice as a source of strength.

"I won't let you win," you say, your voice filled with conviction. "Even if it costs me my life, I will never succumb to your bullshit. I will fight until my last breath, and my comrades will carry on the fight in my honor." Muzan's grin falters for a moment, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. But he quickly composes himself, his crimson eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "We shall see, my darling. We shall see how long your defiance lasts." Muzan said, kneeling down to your side. “How does becoming a demon sound? Perfect huh?” He said, leaning close to your face. “Come on, you’ll get to be by my side forever, I won’t let anyone harm you, ever. And you wont have to worry about demons hurting you anymore. It’s such a wonderful idea, really. Your so perfect already, but it’d be better if you were immortal.”

You tugged against the chains, managing to break of of the only for you to be pinned to the floor immediately. “S-stop it!! Let me go!!” You screamed. Though your cries for help were ignored.

“Yeah, let’s get see just how much of my blood one of you hashira can handle.”

[godsfavdarling]

Have you seen it?

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn! reader summary: You start explaining the 'Pretty Little Liars' plot to your bf words: 440 warings: spoilers for pll obviously! a/n: how about pll/criminal minds cross over where spencer and spencer start dating? Has anyone ever thought of that? Is there a market for that?

You and Spencer sat comfortably on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting gentle shadows in the dimly lit room. The movie, A Cinderella Story starring Lucy Hale, played on the screen.

You had a soft spot for these light-hearted, whimsical films, and every once in a while, you managed to persuade Spencer to watch one with you. To his credit, he always agreed, happy to partake in anything that brought you joy, even if it was a bit out of his usual interests.

"This girl was in this one show, Pretty Little Liars. It was crazy and had so many plot holes," you said, your eyes lighting up as you remembered the series.

"Have you seen it? It's actually about crime... kind of. Well, there's this group of girls who start getting scary messages and threats. Season 1 is pretty good actually. Oh, and this girl, Lucy Hale, she plays Aria, who starts dating her English teacher."

Spencer's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?"

"I know, it's crazy," you laughed, shaking your head. "Also, one of the girls... you'll never guess it. Her name is Spencer! And she’s super smart."

Spencer chuckled, a warm, affectionate sound that made your heart flutter.

"She is! She can hack and stuff, and she knows everything. Just like you!"

"How long was the show?" Spencer asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.

With that question, Spencer unknowingly opened the floodgates. You forgot about the movie you were watching, your excitement bubbling over as you launched into a detailed explanation of the convoluted plot of Pretty Little Liars.

"And then it turns out CeCe is Charlotte, who used to be Charles, but she’s actually trans," you explained animatedly, your hands gesturing wildly. "And guess what? There's another character who has a secret sister."

Spencer's eyes widened as he tried to keep up with the barrage of information. Despite his impressive intellect, he struggled to piece together the tangled web of relationships and mysteries you were describing.

You grabbed your laptop, pulling up images and character charts to help illustrate your points.

"The movie ended an hour ago," Spencer noted, glancing at the dark screen, a bemused smile tugging at his lips.

You barely heard him, too caught up in recounting the show's most outrageous twists. "Spencer has a sister! An evil British twin sister! That was crazy! It was wild!"

Spencer's smile widened as he watched your enthusiasm. He loved seeing you so passionate, even if he couldn't quite wrap his mind around the labyrinthine plot of Pretty Little Liars.

For him, moments like these were priceless, reminding him of why he adored you so much.

You two were so different, but so similar at the same time.